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eupheme · 3 months ago

Text

— trouble will find me

[part ii | masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, reader is shorter than Logan, club setting, use of alcohol, cigar smoking, mutual pining, flirting, light brat taming!logan, references to violence, competence kink, semi-public vaginal fingering, kissing, forbidden relationship

a/n: I can’t stop thinking about dofp!logan sleeping with the girl he’s guarding, this is inspired by that scene! huge thank you to @pr0ximamidnight who let me chit chat about this little idea. you are amazing! 💖💕

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You hum, “But what if I want a little in me?”

You can feel his eyes follow you.

Which shouldn’t really be surprising. It's his job, of course. Keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

But there’s something in the way he watches.

A curl of smoke from a lit cigar. Fingers tracing the rim of a half-downed whisky, a worn leather jacket thrown over a broad shoulder. The tilt of his chin when your eyes meet his - dark and narrowed, missing nothing. Slipping over you like the soft silk of your dress.

Indulging, almost. Unashamed.

You might have a crush.

You're trying not to think about it too much.

Tonight, you're just trying to enjoy the after-party.

It's all bright lights.

The room is bathed in pinks and yellows and flashing red. Disco club music pumped through the speakers, the panels of the floor flickering to the beat. You've been here for two hours already. Nursing tequila sunrises and pink squirrels. Sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, as the minutes tick by, bleeding past midnight.

He's not going to stop you, just yet. You can have your fun tonight - sway to the beat of the music - as long as you play by the rules.

Logan is so different from the ones before him.

Tripping over their feet to check on you. Breathing down your neck, with their padded-shoulder suits smelling like cigarettes and cheap cologne. Too afraid for themselves, of your father, to actually do a good job of protecting you.

Stifling and all too willing to tell you yes to anything.

It was exhausting.

Logan had come recommended - an acquaintance of a friend. He'd 'get the job done' from what you heard. Motivated. Needed the cash and would listen, no questions asked.

Just the type your father thought he could sway - a half-wild guard dog, his salary a leash. Heeling at the click of a tongue, the snap of fingers.

It's not how you saw him, though.

His silence was not obedience. There was nothing bought about this man - watching you from the line of leather booths along the wall.

You've wondered if maybe - you're just desperate to find some form of kindred spirit in someone. Too used to feeling like an accessory instead of a person. Your appearance at your father's events drove home his image. The good, family man who was oh so generous with his time and money.

Articles were written weekly about how philanthropic he was.

You had no idea if anything ever came from the numerous events you hosted - an attempt at doing something with your education. How much was skimmed off your blood, sweat, and tears, funneled back into what he did best.

Maybe you both saw through the bullshit.

He'll last longer than the others, at least.

More than once you've been halfway out the door, headed off to East Village or SoHo, only for him to catch you by the scruff of your sweater - whisking you back inside or into the Lincoln Town Car before you realized what happened.

An angry fist connecting with the nose of a man who had gotten too close at a gala last week. Cornering you in the coat room. Logan, charging in like a snarling beast when you had whimpered his name - red dripping down to stain the pressed white collar as the man was hauled away.

You’ve been thinking about that for days.

There was no sucking up. No flashing of a holster under his arm, some grandiose promise that you don't need to worry. You've never even seen Logan near a weapon but somehow, you feel more safe with him than you ever have with anyone else.

But this bit of internal tenderness that has sprouted, paired with his competency, has been seriously cramping your style.

It’s been enough that he's been hard to get out of your mind. Two weeks of teasing and poking at the limits set. Never giving you much, with that glare - thick arms crossed over his chest. A little thrill rippling up your spine, when his voice goes low and gruff.

The lights go dim, as the music begins to slow.

With the way your eyes wander, you know he sees you when you pick up a partner.

A man that moves with you, peeling off to crowd your space after your hips swivel with the hustle. His hand dipping low from where it rests on the small of your back.

Bold, when he bends to ask you 'if you'd like to get out of there'.

You meet Logan's eyes when you tell him yes.

Telling yourself that it's just to forget him. Definitely not because you're desperate to see the look on his face. To hear that tone he takes when he's pissed off.

A way to ascertain if you've taken root in his mind, even for just a moment.

There's zero chance Logan heard you from across the room. But it doesn't stop him from moving. Pushing to his feet, cutting straight through the crowd to wrap a hand around your bicep the second you start peeling off with the stranger - heading towards the side door.

"No fucking chance." It's gritted out, as he yanks you to him. Your shoulder collides against his chest as he steps between you and the man.

A sloppy hand pushes against his arm. The man's eyes are hazy under the neon lights as he makes a grab for you.

"Come on, man. I saw her first."

Logan pivots you away with a snarl, "She ain't leaving with you, bub."

Another sloppy shove, glancing off the brown leather jacket.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Logan's tone drips with warning, with knowing, "Gonna regret starting something in a room full of people like this."

And it's now that he takes in how big Logan is. The flex of splayed-wide fingers, knuckles curling into a clenched fist. A look in his eye that says that punches won't be pulled - not tonight.

The stranger takes a step back. It's enough.

You're already getting hauled away before they can answer. Guided into one of the many VIP rooms. A snarled "get the fuck out of here" to the attendant, before Logan's crowding you against the bar - hands bracing on his hips.

Fuming, you push yourself up to sit on the top - an attempt to get closer to his height.

"What was that about?" Your chin lifts, as your arms cross.

His eyes flash - a curl of his lip, "Can't you make my job easy, kid?"

Kid. It always makes you bristle. So far from that, and it's the way he says it. That dripping edge, like he knows something you don't.

"Maybe he was a friend." You deadpan.

"Yeah. Real friendly," He scoffs, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You think your daddy is gonna like you going home with a piece of shit like that?"

That makes your teeth clench - a glare sent his way, "I don't think it's any of your business."

"It's literally my business, sweetheart." Logan huffs. His hands curl around the edge of the bar, braced on either side of your knees.

Your breathing hitches, for just a second. The soft name is ground out between his teeth, but it still shoots straight to your pussy.

You haven't been this close to him before. Enough to see the bleed of brown to green in his hazel eyes. The sharp mark between his brows that you want to press your thumb against.

The shorn-down hair at his chin, before it grows thick across his cheeks. Handsome in a way that makes you ache, your fingers curling into fists to keep from touching him.

There's been moments alone - car rides, lounging in the armchair in the corner of your room when he barks at you to hurry up.

But it hasn't been like this.

Maybe it's the opportunity. Maybe it's the amber glitter of tequila in your veins, but you let your palms press against the shining wood. Your knees inch a little further apart, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs.

"That the only reason you whisked me away?” Your eyebrow lifts, "Kidnapping, if I recall, is one of the things you're supposed to be keeping me safe from."

"You are safe." He deflects, "'s not kidnapping when it's me.”

Those eyes are still on yours. Not dropping to where his hips nearly press against the edge of the bar top.

You break the eye contact first.

“Well, it’s fine.” You sniff - as if his actions had been your idea, “I didn’t want him anyways.”

Logan grunts. There’s the slightest brush - the flex of his thumb at your thigh, where your dress rides up. A long look before he’s pushing back to step away, but your fingers reach out, catching on his white shirt.

“Are you going to ask me what I do want?”

There’s the slightest twitch of his nose. Lips parting to show the peek of a tongue, caught between teeth. The briefest dip of his eyes. Down to the shadow between your breasts, pressed together as you lean forward to catch him.

“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Not gonna happen.”

The rejection stings, and you pout, “What isn’t?”

A sigh, and he’s stepping back into your space. Your hand flattens against his stomach, hard muscles beneath as his head tilts.

“You want a man to take you home. Treat you nice.” Logan’s eyes burn into you. Wide hands curving around your knees, thumbs pressing into flesh, “I’m not that guy.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. How it thunders to the beat of the music muted outside this room. Dropping down to pulse between your thighs.

Wondering if he’s thought about you, the way you have him. How he could both see and miss so much at once.

“You’re wrong,” Your head shakes, “I don’t want that.”

A breath, before you’re confessing, ”I want you.”

Logan's eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip.

“‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You echo, “But what if I want a little trouble in me?”

The smile you give him is sweet, a tilt of your head as he catches your hand. Thick fingers curl at your wrist, holding your hand in place. A thumb pressed up against your pulse.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” He rasps, voice low.

You’re undeterred.

“Could get on my knees.” You coo, “You could show me. Would you like that?”

Logan’s jaw grits. His grip loosens just long enough to feel your wrist flex - before he guides your hands, pressing your palms flat against the polished wood.

“It’s not going like that,” He husks. The tone is the same as when he’s ordering you around, one that makes your back go straight, “Those are staying right there. Got that, honey?”

All you can do is nod, as his hands skate up your thighs. Fingers massaging into flesh, soft and smooth as he eases them wider apart. Fitting himself closer between them.

The way he looks at you now is the way he did before.

Focused, as your dress inches higher. The fabric pooling at your hips as they tilt toward him, the pretty lace between your thighs now on display.

“Look at you,” His tongue clucks. A finger tracing the elastic edge, as you clench in anticipation, “Need this, don’t you?”

Drifting across, a thumb pressing against the fabric. It sends a jolt through you, your fingers almost reaching for him before you remember.

“Good girl.” He muses, as your hands flatten again.

The slightest pressure as the pad of his thumb slips up. Nudging against your clothed clit, as you inhale a sharp breath.

Pressing, and circling. It’s agonizingly slow, his eyes flicking up to watch the way you bite back a whimper. Your hips flexing into his touch, aching for more.

It lifts, so he can see how the fabric has dampened. Clinging to your skin, his knuckle tracing your seam.

“Making a mess.”

You can only whine in reply. Afraid that he’ll stop if you make too much noise. If you move - he’s made it clear he’s in charge here, and for once you’re willing to follow.

The pad of his thumb pulling back, a faint shine in the neon-bathed room.

“That for me?”

Your head nods, “Logan, please-”

There’s a sharp flash of teeth. Fingers pressing low, fitting against you, “You want me here?”

“Yes.”

You need him. Need anything he’ll give you, the sharp pinch in your palms where your nails bite into flesh.

“Ask me.” He coos.

“Please put use your fingers,” It comes in a rush, “Want you in me-”

Logan smirks, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband. Air sucked through clenched teeth when he meets slick, soaked skin. A teasing swirl against your clit before he’s parting you.

The tip of his middle finger tracing your hole, before it dips inside. His hips flex against the wooden edge, when you clench around him immediately. Trying to draw him deeper, as he works himself further in.

His fingers are much thicker than yours. A second already tracing where he opens you up. Teasing the tip in as his hand flexes, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

Your head tips forward. Each breath growing shorter, as you’re stretched around him. That slight ache unfurling into pleasure. Panting, as the pump of his fingers grow louder - the muffled cadence of skin against skin each time his palm collides with your cunt.

The fabric strains against his hand, his knuckles pressed against the soaked fabric.

Something bright burns in your belly, as your knees press into his hips. It makes you break the rules - a hand grasping at his arm. Anchoring yourself with your grip.

“I wanna watch. Let me see you.”

He lets you. A tap against your hip so you can lift. Carefully pulling your underwear down, easing them over the heels of your boots.

The lace disappears into his jacket pocket. His palms against your inner thighs, spreading you open. A throaty groan when he sees you, one that he can't quite manage to bite back - the rough sound shooting straight through you.

You both watch, when his fingers fit inside you this time. Two sinking down to the knuckle, slick and shining.

Unable to bite back the moan this time, though he does not shush you. His eyes fixed on your face instead, watching how your brow pinches when his fingers crook deep inside you. Searching.

The way you go jolt and then go tense when he finds it, a soft cry loosening.

“You been fucked like this before?” Logan growls, his fingers dragging against that soft spot inside you with his emphasis.

Your head shakes, when he does it again. Eyes dropping to watch his how hand looks, how you wrap around his fingers. The slick shine as they pump a little faster.

His other hand taps against your thigh.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No,” It comes out hushed. Needy. “Never.”

His lips part with his groan, baring his teeth. With the way he touches you - his thumb moving to rub circles against your clit - it’s not long before he has you close.

A swiftly building pressure in your belly. That space between you eases as your knees close around his hips. His head tilting until his nose ghosts against your cheek.

Breath hot against your neck, as he inhales you. The slightest scrape of teeth that makes you bear down on his fingers - so careful not to leave a mark behind.

“Logan,” You pant. “That feels, ah, I think I’m gonna come-”

He groans against your skin, keeping the same pace. Feeling how you forget yourself - grasping at him, arching into his touch. Your muscles going tight as your breath grows short - panting.

“Give it to me,” Logan growls, “Come on my fucking fingers, baby.”

It’s impossible not to listen. You come, with his thumb pressing against your clit. His fingers notched deep inside you, as he feels your pulse racing beneath his lips.

The moan that rips from you pitches up, and then goes silent.

It leaves you breathless. Deep waves throbbing inside you, as you dampen his palm. Washing over and pulling you under, as your vision darkens.

“That’s fucking it. Come on, honey.” He coos, “Just look at you, so fucking pretty.”

The pump of his fingers goes still, the tips still crooking, as the tight pulses wane. The air comes rushing back into your lungs as you come back to yourself, your hands fisted in his jacket.

His chest heaves. Eyes hungry, when he slips from you. Slick clinging to them, webbing between his fingers as he pulls them up to the light.

Before he’s focusing on you again, his other hand thumbing at your lip.

“Open.”

They part automatically. Closing around the fingers he feeds you. The salt of his skin pairing with the sweet tang of your release, too blissed out to do anything but suck them clean.

“Good girl.”

It’s soft, as his fingers press down. Spreading, until you’ve cleaned yourself from them. Only when they slip from you, does his head dip.

A soft sound as his mouth presses against yours. There’s the sweep of his tongue against your lip, needy and insistent. You part for him, swallowing the moan as he tastes you. Teeth and tongue - deepening the kiss as his hands grip at your waist.

Letting your hands grasp at his shoulders. Tug at his hair until you’re pulled flush against him, your tits crushed against his chest.

Hungry, threatening to devour you, until you mumble his name.

Bringing him back to himself. Sharing a breath, Logan’s forehead pressed to yours when he pulls back. Those spit-slick fingers dropping down.

Palming himself roughly, where his cock strains - thick and hard against his jeans. A bitten-back groan, the word “fuck” rumbling deep in his chest as his hips flex into his hand.

“You going to listen now? Get that out of your system?” It comes out ragged, and you’re nodding.

All your sharp edges smoothed down. Blissfully complacent, as his fingers get a better grip on your waist. Bringing you down to the floor with wobbly legs, his hand coming to grasp at your upper arm.

“Good.” He growls, “Come on.”

A sharp tug, and you almost trip over yourself to follow.

“I’m taking you home.”

ahh I had the idea for this and had to jot it down! and I do know he goes by james/jimmy in the 70s because it’s pre-weapon-x, but I'll be keeping it as logan for this. (And I am thinking this will be a two-shot - give her a chance to get what she wants 😏💖)

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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violetpixiedust · 27 days ago

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14-02-21

dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader

description: you were somewhat content living in kildare with your beautiful twin girls, collecting child support cheques, and staying out of the kook limelight. that was until your ex and baby daddy rafe cameron got clean. the now head of cameron development finally realized that he needed to step up, and be the father he always promised he would be for your children. not to mention the man you had practically begged for before that devastating night you left him. but will you give him the chance?

warnings: afab reader. no description of appearance. featuring ex!rafe cameron x ex!reader. dad!rafe cameron x mom!reader. girl dad!rafe cameron. toxic!rafe. businessman!rafe. pogue to kook!reader. sweet!reader. florist!reader. angst. not teen pregnancy, but not adult either. co-parenting. mentions of drugs. mentions of domestic violence. 18+. mdni.

a/n: a new series i’m working on! let me know if you’d like to read more?

1. 𓍼

it was awkward to say the least.

that brand new car smell of rafe’s porche made you queasy, holding your breath to the best of your ability despite your twin daughters babbling in the backseat. they were enraptured with the brand new jelly-cats rafe- or perhaps- rafe’s assistant had purchased for them.

it hadn’t always been this way. there had been a time when you believed you knew rafe, the real one behind the glitz and glamour of being outer banks royalty. behind each stinging line and dime bag of coke, cigar smoke, and tightly wound up bills that came with capitalizing on people’s addictions. rafe was top dog, barry his right hand man, running their drug operation past the cut and then some under the guise of cameron development- which had been newly inherited.

amidst the fancy cars, motorbikes, top shelf whisky, tannyhill, designer clothes and 18k gold jewelry, you were rafe’s most prized possession. a sweet little bar cart girl from the country club turned co-ruler of the rambunctious beach side town. you were a pogue turned kook long before rafe had noticed you, but you still managed to catch his eye whilst being decorated in vintage prada and blumarine, skipping in the ocean coast at the boneyard.

your romance grew hot, blooming faster than anybody could fathom. within a week you were the angel bar cart girl turned rafe’s lover. you wanted to believe he loved you, did believe him for longer than you should have. even when his saltwater eyes would be rimmed with scarlet, pupils dilated despite the fact that he promised he would stop dipping into his own supply. even when his once gentle hold would leave an ache beneath your tender skin, his gold signet ring often threatening to leave a brand. even when his booming voice would vibrate off the decorative wallpaper, blowing your hair back with the sheer force of his anger in your face.

and especially when you sat alone at the country club, rafe’s empty seat mocking you from where you picked at your cooling dinner, numb to the local’s pitiful and amused stares.

that had been rafe up until your period was two weeks late, two vibrant lines on four home pregnancy tests snapping him into gear. it wasn’t a discussion. you would be having the child- children- two twin girls, and he would be the father he never had. he would stop the coke, the dealing, the parties. be the man you always wanted. the man you knew when it was just the two of you between your silk sheets. in the early hours of the peaceful and serene morning, staring at his sober expression that was filled with love rather than turmoil.

that had been rafe for longer than you thought he could be.

“you sick or something?” despite your ex’s harsh tone, you knew he wasn’t angry. annoyed most likely- given that this was the first time you had agreed to an outing with him and both of your children since the separation. the children lived in a gorgeous house with you a few blocks from tannyhill since before they had turned one- their fourth birthday now a mere few months away much to your disbelief. rafe had ensured his children would still have a spectacular view of the ocean that he had grown up having. he was good at that. making sure the three of you were taken care of. throwing however much money you needed for necessities, toys for the girls, furniture and decor for the home, and then some for your own pleasure.

your oldest daughter by five minutes- valentine, spoke up. “is mommy sick?”

you quickly turned in your place from the passenger seat, ignoring rafe’s piercing cobalt eyes only to meet valentine’s that matched them almost identically. your mustered up smile quickly turned genuine at the sight of your sweet babies in their car seats, stuffed animals flopped in their laps. “‘m fine, val-“

your younger daughter- rosette- or rosy for short, appeared as a mirror of your younger self- with her doe eyes so similar to yours staring back at you. “pwomise?” her sweet voice was quiet, hiding behind her new scarlet bunny jellycat. your expression softened immensely, holding out your chipped manicured pinky. instantly, both of your daughter’s latched on with theirs, the trio of you giggling for no apparent reason, missing rafe’s uncomfortable expression from behind the wheel.

your twins were aware of their father, which was a miracle given that rafe had always struggled to keep his word about being the dad he never had. a continued presence in their lives despite your separation. as the breadwinner however, he couldn’t be there all the time- and living separately only made things harder. the heir of cameron development visited at least once a week for coffee at your home. the two of you would watch your daughters play with the new toys rafe purchased for them weekly, helping them when they occasionally got stuck. it would be tense between you two at the beginning of every visit. rafe keeping to a strict routine of asking if everything was working properly, that the girls were healthy, that you had enough. you would assure him every time that you did, but held your tongue when describing your week. he had been in the bahamas on business when you had given birth, but had never missed a birthday since. he had been out at the country club with topper when valentine had said her first word- cat, which caused him to spiral when he heard he had missed it. he’d been absent when they learned how to walk, when they were potty training, learned how to talk, learned how to read small words, write small words. still, he couldn’t abandon his legacy for his children that he had spent under a hundred hours with during the year. as long as they had enough.

rafe’s porche eventually pulled up outside of a bakery he had never been to- let alone heard of teetering on the edge of the cut. the blonde held his tongue when you initially offered the location of the establishment you had the liberty of choosing, mentioning that they had a kids menu the girls would enjoy. he wondered if you regularly brought his children to places near or on the poorer side of the island, knowing how firmly against he was on the subject.

it had always been a point of contention between you two that you could never fully assimilate to kook culture. despite your mother becoming a successful name in the real estate business through pure dedication and hard work in your freshman year, you never wanted to take full advantage of it. rafe couldn’t forget your old car, one that was still parked outside of your mother’s house the last time he checked. a violet 1965 chevrolet impala that had been passed down from your grandmother after she died. the doors were squeaky, handles slightly sticky, the silver bumper rusted some, and the paint was chipped, but you refused to get rid of it. it was only until rafe threatened to have the piece of junk towed if you ever thought about driving his children around in that metal death trap that you folded. instead, you picked a sensible audi as your new car when he took you to the dealership a few weeks before your separation. a model so unlike either of you much to his chagrin.

speaking of, your vintage handbag that was speckled with age and decorated with cutesy keychains no doubt picked out by your daughters, jingled in the summer breeze when you stepped out of his car. despite how much your stubbornness and individuality got on his nerves, rafe couldn’t deny that you still held his heart after all these years. you stuck by him till the end of the line. endured his mood swings, his violent tendencies, his addiction, all because you loved him. he couldn’t fault you for leaving when it got to its worst, especially since it was for the sake of your girls. your tearful voice still echoed in his ears as if it were yesterday. i can’t have them growing up in this house thinking that this is what love should feel like, rafe. i can’t. you can’t seriously want someone like you as their example for marriage.

that had kept rafe up at night for months after you moved out.

before he could pull rosy out of her car seat, the blonde heard your soft melodic voice singing from the other side of the vehicle. the short haired man straightened up slowly, as if disbelieving of the sound.

you were cast in a beacon of sunlight. the early summer morning glowing against your stunning complexion that your daughters’ shared. he hadn’t said anything about your darling mini dress when you had opened your front door only a half hour ago, just stared for a moment too long before stepping past you inside. rafe wasn’t sure how to verbalize that every time he saw you, you reminded him that nobody else could ever hold a candle to how gorgeous you were.

the eldest cameron inevitably grew up since you discovered you were pregnant. having shaved off his juvenile curtain bangs, swapping his colourful polos and graphic tees with button down dress shirts and neutral designer short sleeves. wearing the family ring on his finger with pride, along with a watch that cost more than the house you grew up in on his wrist. replacing his dirt bike with a number of luxury cars, each more expensive than the last. despite that, he couldn’t deny that it seemed like not a second had passed since the first time he saw you in that bar cart, all those reinventions of himself ago.

you were still the sweetest girl in the outer banks apparently. only with him, now, you were more reserved. speaking when spoken to and keeping details concise- just in case he had to fly out the door that next minute to tend to a number of other responsibilities a man like him had. wheezie kept him updated. you still smiled at everyone you came across, kook or pogue- your daughters’ following in suit, sharing your sweetness. the residents of outer banks only had nice things to say about his family. rafe regularly heard about you picking some flowers for the elderly woman who lived down the road from your home, as her son was one of his business partners’.

a few weeks ago, you had donated some of the twins’ old toys that they explicitly said they didn’t play with to unprivileged children on the cut. after he heard about that one- he immediately drove to your house to confront you- the gifts for his daughters’ meaning more to him than you had initially realized. even still, you were under the impression that his assistant had been picking them out. sensing he felt as if you were donating his affection.

you were perfect in every sense of the word, and rafe couldn’t help the feeling of your small hand squeezing around his heart- unable to look away from where you and your eldest daughter were singing a song he didn’t recognize. the grip her little hands had on your shoulders tightened after you lifted her up, swinging her around as best you could- much to her delight.

rafe jumped when he felt a tiny hand pull on his left fingers, absent from a wedding band. you two hadn’t gotten that far before everything went to shit. the sun kissed man looked down, your doe eyes staring back up at him from where your youngest daughter was still sat in her car seat. his adams apple bobbed with a harsh swallow, quickly unbuckling the little girl before plopping her on his hip. the scent of the baby shampoo you still used on rosy’s hair wafted up to rafe’s nose after the toddler quietly rested her head in the crook of his neck. a dull ache pulsed behind his cobalt eyes when he remembered his little girl as a baby. the chub in her cheeks had softened since then, and rafe knew her features would only keep growing in every day he wasn’t there.

the exterior of the bakery was painted a deep green shade, and valentine had excitedly commented on how it was the same colour as your neighbour’s new ‘boyfriend’ (engagement) ring. inferiority wormed it’s way into rafe’s chest, a feeling that seemed to make itself known when he was faced with the topic of marriage and companionship. you were raised by a single mother yourself. your father having skipped out on the two of you before you learned how to walk. rafe knew you appreciated everything he did for you, but he wasn’t blind when faced with that bittersweet look in your eyes every time your daughters would mention something rafe had no knowledge of. wether it be a show, something funny that had happened earlier that week, or something you had done.

the four of you walked through the open glass door, with rafe managing to hide his surprise at the charm of the small hole in the wall bakery. the bottom half of the walls were painted a warm butter yellow, the tops cream with matching engraved trimmings, paired with deep grey tiled floors, and a small strip of patterned green carpet that ran beneath the petite tables on the right hand side of the establishment. each small circular table was decorated with a clear vase of stemmed flowers, coinciding with the decorative floral piece that hung from the middle of the ceiling. a leather booth seat ran down the entire right hand wall of the seating area, turning the corner with a window that faced the lot. the left hand side showcased a matching window, displaying freshly baked bread, along with a glass case of sweet and savoury baked treats. behind the long counter and barista machines was a wooden board displaying the menu, which admittedly looked delicious to rafe.

before he could even speak, a short haired woman walked out from behind the serving counter. “hey, you!” rafe watched intently at the way your expression instantly brightened at the sight of the mystery woman. her quirky mushroom crocheted earrings bobbed when she gave you a hug as best she could with valentine between you. jesus, rafe rolled his eyes. it was as if he wasn’t even in the room when the employee started speaking. “i’m so glad you’re here! i was going to text you! architectural digest is doing a segment on flowers in public spaces, and they came in this morning to take photos of your display.”

rafe could’ve dropped rosy at that statement, his pink lips falling agape. architectural digest? your floral display? you made-?

“what?” your normally soothing voice was a mix between incredulous and excitement, teary with emotion. valentine’s cobalt gaze finally tore away from the treats, her eyebrows furrowing in concern at the crystals balancing along her mother’s waterline.

“you- you made that?” rafe asked dumbly, mildly embarrassed at the way his question came out. the employee seemed to register rafe then, her fading smile bleeding with recognition. the cameron man hardened his expression to mask his various feelings at that look, tightening his tense lips before sending a poisonous glare in the short haired woman’s direction. she answered before you did, her initially friendly tone now clipped.

“she did. she’s been making them for us since we opened last year.” guilt immediately flooded the man’s rigid body. last year? how had you- the mother of his children- been making floral displays for the last year, and architectural digest knew before he did? rafe turned to look at you, but you stayed silent, choosing to bounce valentine in your arms to avoid his intense glare. frustration began to seep into rafe’s veins, filtering out the guilt in the only way he knew how.

“she’s always been quite humble, hasn’t she?” it would have been a sweet sentiment, had rafe’s bass toned voice not been coated with distain. why hadn’t you told him this was something you were interested in? something you wanted to pursue? how did you even have the time to do this? who was watching his children when you were doing this?

the short haired woman turned to look at you, her hardened expression softening at the weak smile of embarrassment you sent her unbeknownst to rafe. “well, i bought a hundred copies. along with two extras for you and your mom.”

you gasped, unable to do anything but protest. “sandra, you didn’t-“

sandra, only laughed as if it had been the easiest decision in the world. “of course i did, and to say thank you for bringing ad to the bakery, lunch is on me today. anything you and the kids want.” valentine laughed when sandra tickled her tummy with her pointer finger, causing you to finally smile brightly once again. the two of you hugged tightly once more before sandra left your family to their own devices, another kind looking employee standing on deck behind the counter for when you four made your decision.

“we’re not done talkin’ about this.” rafe harshly broke the silence between your little family. you didn’t respond, only leading the way to a corner table that would allow you two the most room in the albeit empty bakery. there were only two other people enjoying what was assumed to be a coffee date on the other end of the establishment. rafe bitterly couldn’t help but wonder how sandra made any money if her bakery was this empty on a friday morning.

your twins were silent, meeting each others eyes with seemingly twin telepathy. you and rafe didn’t notice when you both sat down on either side of the corner booth, too engrossed in your own thoughts with valentine and rosy in your laps respectively. “mommy, can we have treats later?” valentine peaked up at you unsurely, foreign to the somber energy you were radiating.

tears threatened to drip down your throat. you were so unsure of how a man who had given you the two greatest and sweetest things in your life could be so mean when he wanted to be. “of course, baby. mommy wants some too. we just need to eat some real food first.”

“what d’you girls want?” rafe asked your daughters, addressing them for seemingly the first time today besides his initial hugs and hellos. you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, bouncing valentine on your lap much to her delight while you scanned the kids menu.

“they have pancake cereal.” you managed to put on a grin for your children, valentine and rosy gasping with excitement once they realized what you had said. rafe furrowed his eyebrows, reading over what that was.

mini pancake cereal

fluffy, house made, mini buttermilk and vanilla pancakes with fresh strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries.

comes with your choice of whip cream, maple syrup, or mixed berry compote

“can we please get it, mommy!” rosy exclaimed, one of her tiny fists balling rafe’s black polo in it’s grasp, her other arm clutching her new bunny stuffie to her chest. rafe’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, never having heard his youngest speak so loud unless she was playing tag with her sister. she was usually so shy in her father’s mind. you laughed sweetly, as if you were expecting it.

as if it were a regular occurrence.

“of course we can, lovie.” your ex felt his heart swell and break simultaneously while watching you with the twins. you were such an amazing mother. it was so clear you adored them, and in turn they adored you. rafe swallowed dryly when the kids began to babble nonsense about this supposed pancake cereal, letting himself look at you properly. his cobalt eyes raked across the serene slopes of your face, catching sight of the sparkly eyeshadow and rosy lipgloss that decorated your angelic features. it was like you to put in the extra effort on your appearance when going anywhere, something rafe admired heavily about you when you first started dating, but he couldn’t help but wonder if you had put in a little extra effort for him this time. it had been years since the pair of you went out like this, only now you had two children who emulated your beauty to a tee.

“what’re you getting?” you seemed shocked that he was speaking to you, figuring you would get the silent treatment. rafe sighed through his nose, knowing if he wanted this to be a regular occurrence, he couldn’t let his anger get the better of him. you didn’t deserve that- no matter how much he made you feel like you did. you watched carefully when his large hand began stroking rosy’s back- as if he had been doing it her whole life. rafe gritted his teeth momentarily, looking away before catching sight of the floral display that hung from the ceiling.

it’s textures were dazzling. a tilted silhouette made up of beiges, hints of yellows, pinks, and whites. vines, cotton ball flowers, feathered plants, and dried flowers were among the many plants it contained. it was masterfully chaotic, and acted as a skillful conduit for the outside to match the in. “it’s beautiful- your- uh, your installation, i mean.” rafe caught himself. “i wish that i-“ he bit his lip, chuckling humourlessly at the fact that he could speak to a whole conference room composed of the most powerful businessmen in the country, but couldn’t tell you the truth. “i-i wish that i knew that part of you.”

he avoided your eyes, unknowing to the way they softened at his quiet admission. you knew that took a lot for him to admit, to be vulnerable after everything that’s happened. it wasn’t even a fraction of enough to get you back to the highest of highs in your relationship, but it was the strongest start in a long time. “thank you, rafe.” rafe looked at you then, ignoring the goosebumps that travelled up his arms at the way you said his name. you were blissfully unaware that he just narrowly avoided asking all the questions that balanced on the tip of his tongue. “do you know what you’re getting?”

“i’ll do the same.” rafe decided quickly, your eyebrows furrowing when you realized you hadn’t told him what you wanted yet. his eyes widened a moment later in realization, clearing his throat to the side before mumbling quietly. “you- uh, you always used to get the vegetarian hash at the country club for brunch. jus’ thought you would do the same here.”

a sharp gasp left your glossy lips. you couldn’t believe he remembered that. thankfully, valentine spoke up before you could internalize what that meant. “mommy, could i get orange juice? rosy wants apple.”

rafe held rosy in his strong arms, cradling the little girl to his chest much to your rapidly melting facade. it was completely different watching him interact with them in public. only having seen him somewhat cautiously playing with your daughters’ on your living room rug under your watchful eyes, or scooping them up for a quick hug when he came through the front door at the beginning and end of his visits. “‘course, baby.” rafe answered for you. valentine spared her father a look before turning back towards you for the final verdict. your doe eyes flitted towards your ex, immediately noticing how enamoured he was with rosy on his lap, gazing at her relaxed form with pure adoration. your heart raced at the little grin that spread across his pink lips, rosy staring back at her father with the same agape lips that rafe was often known for supporting.

you spoke up after ensuring both juices were on the menu. “of course, val’s, but you don’t have to ask only me. you can ask daddy too.” rafe inhaled a sharp breath, in utter disbelief that you had just acknowledged him like that. a genuine smile directed towards him spread across your lips for the first time that morning. “coffee. black. no sugar?”

there was something in rafe’s cerulean eyes that gleamed, glittering with cautious hope before he whispered. “yeah. only if you get an oat chai.”

once the food had been brought out, and your girls’ fruit juices had been poured into their travel sippy cups, the four of you began to eat. sandra had gotten the chef to make the pancakes extra mini, allowing the girls’ to use their hands and chew their breakfast safely. still, rafe and yourself stood by in case they needed help.

“s’it good, baby?” rafe whispered to rosy, smiling softly at her nod before pressing a gentle kiss to the chub of her soft cheek. unable to help himself, his calloused fingers pinched valentine’s identical chubby cheek, chuckling at her little grin.

it was clear to both of you that valentine was a leader, taking after rafe in that way. she always looked out for rosy. asking her questions that she could answer yes or no to, letting her parents know what her shy little sister wanted in case she didn’t want to speak. she was fiercely protective and intuitive, which is why you found that she often assessed your reactions with rafe. she loved her father, but you could tell she was having a harder time completely warming up to the man in front of her. meanwhile, rosy was more than happy to fulfill her role as a daddy’s girl. though it made you nervous for when rafe inevitably had to leave. you tried not to think about it, quickly putting on a smile. “what do you say to daddy, lovies?”

“tank you.”

“tank you, dada.”

rafe felt his breath catch in his throat for the twentieth time that morning. it meant more to him than he realized having them acknowledge something so little like breakfast. it was different than toys, a gift. this was time spent with their father, and they were thanking him. the blonde blinked, a wide smile eventually spreading across his pink lips. “you’re welcome. thanks for comin’ out with me today.” despite him looking at your daughters’, you knew the last part was directed towards you. quietly, you reached your left hand out, rafe finally noticing the promise ring he had given you at the height of his addiction adorning your ring finger. it was a smaller gemstone than he would’ve liked, but he knew you wouldn’t have appreciated something so flashy. he hadn’t seen it since your separation. your birthstone stared back at rafe, and immediately his right hand caught yours before you could change your mind.

the pair of you tensed up at the feeling of your hands meeting, before eventually relaxing once the initial sparks subsided. rafe gently ran his thumb over the back of your hand, travelling down to the ring he had given you in the bed of his old truck, parked at the beach all those years ago. it had been a final resort to keep you from leaving him, knowing he couldn’t do the right thing and let you go despite his addiction taking control of his life. rafe could feel the guilt beginning to swirl in his stomach, parting his lips before valentine giggled mischievously.

“mommy and daddy sittin’ in a tree-“ rafe froze, multiple scoldings halted at the hint of shyness that cloaked your giddy expression. you could believe how cheeky your daughters were being in public, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the fire engine red shade that burned atop your ex’s now bare ears.

rosy joined with a delighted laugh. “k-i-s-s-r-o-t.“ you both laughed at the misspelling, letting go of each others hands almost reluctantly. rafe chuckled again before kissing rosy’s head who giggled. your manicured fingers tickled valentine’s tummy playfully, the little girl squirming in delight at the feeling. the sight of your little family together like this had you wishing that it could feel like this all the time. like rafe had been there everyday since the twins came into this world. that he didn’t have to pull several strings to get a day off for the first time in months. you blinked back your approaching tears, hiding your bittersweet smile from behind your lukewarm oat chai.

after cleaning the girls’ up, and rafe admittedly buying too many treats for just the four of you to go- which you promised the girls as dessert that night despite their pleading- you were driving back to your house. it was a gorgeous day out. the sun not even at it’s peak yet despite the heat already making itself more than known to the residents of outer banks. your manicured nails flicked together in contemplation, the feelings of finality weighing heavily in the luxury car. you knew rafe wouldn’t push for more time today. it was a mutual understanding that he was on thin ice, and this visit would be on your terms, but would it be so wrong that you wanted him to stay?

“lovies, do you wanna have a pool day today?” the girls’ cheered before you could take it back. despite the underground pool that took over most of your backyard, you were terrified at the thought of the girls starting to learn how to swim. they were still so little in your mind. so you conceded, buying them a larger than normal pink kiddy pool in the shape of a heart for pool days. you figured this was something you should speak to rafe about, along with a number of things the quicker your girls’ seemed to grow up. while the toddlers talked amongst themselves, you hesitantly rested your hand on rafe’s shoulder at a red light, feeling the muscle tense before relaxing beneath your palm. “you can join too.” the blonde man turned to look at you then, flickering his eyes over your soft expression before nodding in agreement.

rafe stored the treats in your refrigerator while you got the girls’ dressed in their swimsuits. he had a pair of black swim shorts in the trunk of his car, leftover from when topper or kelce had decided they wanted to spontaneously go to the beach a few weeks ago. you had asked him to fill the pool up after he got dressed, which confused him at first, but now he could see the heart shaped kiddy pool about fifteen paces away from the actual pool. the man couldn’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes half heartedly before he got to work.

once the pool was about halfway filled with lukewarm water- he’d be damned if his babies were cold- he heard the patio door slide open. rafe looked up, spotting the twins dressed in their matching frilly bathing suits with protective hairstyles. valentine’s was a pale teal colour, and rosy’s a vibrant magenta. rafe was ashamed to say he still got the twins mixed up until a few months ago, remedied after he had gifted them little gold necklaces with a ‘v’ and ‘r’ respectively. you had smiled softly at his admission, letting him know that the only way you were able to tell them apart at first was because wheezie had painted one of each of their toenails a different colour. rafe ignored the pang in his chest when you told him that. wishing he could’ve seen it. wishing that he could’ve looked up from his own reflection long enough to help you out more.

their little feet padded up to rafe, standing on either side of his knelt down form as he continued to hold the hose into the pool. rosy’s short fingers reached out to touch the stream of water, flinching away while hissing out a giggle at the funny feeling. rafe grinned, chuckling when valentine cutely dipped her spread out toes into the shallow water, her little hands keeping herself steady on rafe’s shoulder. suddenly, he heard the clacking of heeled sandals, whipping his head up towards the sound before his jaw dropped.

it wasn’t as if rafe hadn’t looked at you romantically since your separation. it was no question that you were the most sought after girl in the outer banks- before and after- the eldest cameron had finally managed to lock you down. he hadn’t slept with you- or anyone else believe it or not- since the breakup. the father of your children had only caught pg 13 moments of you when he was lucky. like a stray bra strap showing when the shoulder of your loose sweaters would fall, or the lace of your panties that had peaked out from beneath your mini skirts on more than one occasion. it had him fucking his fist as soon as he crossed the threshold of his home in a way he hadn’t since he first started puberty, but fuck. rafe really didn’t think you could get any more gorgeous, especially after having his twins. he was wrong. so, so wrong.

a stringy bikini left little to the imagination, revealing your rich complexion that glittered with some sort of oil. the bottom strings were tied high on your hips in bows, while the top was tied behind your neck and between your shoulder blades. you didn’t look exactly the same as you did before of course, but god you looked so much better to rafe. your tits were heavier for lack of a better term, and your bottom had filled out, more perky, rounder. the blonde wasn’t aware of what he was doing until valentine squealed, the hose water spraying her chubby legs rather than filling the pool. he swore softly under his breath, cursing to himself silently afterwards when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to do that in front of the girls. rafe gently pulled valentine further into the sun, giving her nose little butterfly kisses in apology before allowing her to hold the hose for him. rosy glued herself to rafe’s other side, her chubby arms wrapping behind his neck with her warm cheek pressing against his. the elder man smiled widely, wrapping his other arm around his youngest daughter before placing a kiss along her cheek.

unbeknownst to rafe, you weren’t fairing any better either. he had somehow filled out even more since the two of you had broken up. his skin was just as golden as it always had been, prompting his shaved blonde hair, strong bone structure dotted with golden stubble, and blue eyes to stand out that much more. his biceps bulged while he hugged your daughters, their little hands pressed against the defined muscles of his shoulders and back. you bit your bottom lip, sitting down on a stray poolside chair before calling out. “sweethearts. sunscreen time.”

“but mommy-“ valentine whined softly, her feet already dipped in the now filled up pool from where she stood inside of it. rafe stroked the little girl’s back, chiding her softly.

“c’mon now, listen to mommy.” your heart swelled. “we’ll make it quick.” your eldest grumbled half heartedly, her little humph morphing into an excited squeal when rafe playfully lifted her up with an exaggerated groan. both little girls on his hips cheered with delight, held six feet up in the air as if they weighed nothing.

oh god, you were done for.

“can you do mine, dada?” rosy asked sweetly, gently playing with his rope chain necklace from where she laid in the crook of his neck. rafe couldn’t stop his heart from melting, unable to deny his girls anything- unless you said so, of course. maybe.

“‘course i can, baby.” valentine reached out for you, rafe handing her off before sitting on the grassy ground in front of you. the other pool chair too far from you and val for his comfort. you bit your glossy bottom lip, giggling at the way your eldest squirmed at the cool feeling of the sunscreen. practically lifting all of her limbs at you like a spider monkey to somehow make the process go faster.

a few minutes later, rafe had gotten your youngest daughter pretty much covered besides her face, which he took his sweet time with. you furrowed your eyebrows at the way he applied the sun cream with his fingertips, rosy turned away from you. it wasn’t until he turned your youngest daughter around to reveal a little white nose and slightly messy kitten whiskers made from sunscreen, that you laughed louder than expected. valentine gasped, giggling along with you much to rosy’s confusion. quickly, you pulled out your phone, snapping a few too many pictures of your oblivious daughter and an amused rafe behind her. “i want one too!” valentine hopped off your lap, running to her father before presenting her already sun screened face.

you showed the pictures to a curious rosy while rafe got to work, giggling at her little gasp and toothy grin at the artwork on her face. after snapping “a few” more pictures of your little kittens, they ran off into the pool, toys of their choosing scattered throughout the water. you smiled at the way rafe didn’t take his eyes off of them, turning your chair horizontally much to his confusion. “c’mon, we can share it.” the blonde got up after a beat, sitting down while you stood above him. “d’you want a beer?”

a careful eyebrow raised itself on his handsome face. “you tryna’ get me drunk?” rafe naturally smirked when you rolled your eyes sexily, dragging his cerulean gaze up and down your perfect form while you walked back inside the house to get said beer.

soon, you returned with two small coolers filled with ice. the one you placed next to rafe had a few imported beers from mexico, and some drinks for yourself. the ones for your daughters next to their kitty pool held sippy cups of watered down juice, and little bottles of water.

handing an open beer to rafe, you sat next to him beneath the large umbrella above the pool chair. he thanked you, clinking your drinks for good luck before taking a sip. the pair of you sat quietly for a few moments, basking in the heat while watching your daughters play in their pool a few feet away. rafe scrunched his nose suddenly, stroking the back of his neck before leaning forwards- elbows to knees. “so uh.. tell me about your flower installations.”

you smiled softly, shrugging. “i don’t really know what to say. i..” rafe turned to look at you, admiring the way your expression softened when thinking about something that clearly brought you joy. you looked hopeful. such a contrast from the stoicism and defeat you exhibited when you were with him. “you remember topper’s ex girlfriend? ruthie?”

your ex scoffed out a laugh at that, sipping his beer before nodding. “yeah. i remember her.” amused giggles left your lips, reminiscing about how tumultuous their relationship had been when you were only teenagers.

“well, she invited me to her wedding two years ago-“

“no.” rafe laughed incredulously. “you went to that?” you hid your face in your left hand to mask your laughter, birthstone catching his eyes again. before he could overthink it, he nudged your thigh with his playfully. “kay. so after you watched her uncle kiss her cousin, what happened-?”

“oh god. i wasn’t there long enough for that. the girls were at my mom’s and rosy caught a cold somehow-“

“what?” rafe’s relaxed demeanour went rigid. you turned your focus to him, a sad smile painting your lips when you took in his reaction. “why didn’t you call me-?”

“i tried. your phone kept going to voicemail, so i called your assistant and they said you were on business, and that they would let you know i called.” rafe’s mouth fell agape, sighing irritatedly before pinching the bridge of his nose to will away his oncoming tension headache. he hadn’t been away for business. he had taken topper to his bahamas vacation house to drink away his sorrows like a sorority girl. he couldn’t believe- “but she was fine the next morning. the paediatrician told us it was only a twenty-four hour cold. so when you called back, i didn’t want to worry you-“

rafe grabbed your hand before he could stop himself, immediately softening his hold when you flinched out of habit. the elder man swallowed then, eyes filled with anguish before gradually tilting his head forwards to show you he meant no harm. “you don’t ever worry about worrying me, or bothering me. not when- not when it comes to the girls.. and- and especially not when it comes to you, a-a’ight-?“ he cut himself off while he was ahead, unsure of how to continue without ruining more than he already had. you set down your drink, pulling your smaller hand out of his grip softly much to his disappointment. shockingly though, your palms enveloped the sides of his face. rafe spared a look at you, afraid to even breathe at the risk of breaking the moment. as if it were the easiest decision of your life, you stroked the soft pad of your thumb over the approaching wrinkles along his forehead, softening the tension in his face as best you could. gently, you placed a feather soft kiss to the same area, eyes watering at the sound of the shaky breath that left the man who still held your heart after everything.

“i promise.”

the sound of ice pouring into water caught both of your attentions, snapping your heads towards the kitty pool that was now bobbing with ice cubes. valentine gently dropped the empty cooler on the grass, bottles fallen beside it. she placed her sunglasses over her eyes with a sigh before laying in the pool next to her sister- who looked equally as relaxed. your jaw dropped at the way their little arms rested behind their heads, unable to hold back your laughter after rafe commented incredulously. “there’s no way that just happened.”

you attempted to cover your mouth, but just couldn’t stop laughing. “in case you were unsure that val was yours-“

“that has you written all over it! are you kidding?” you knew rafe wasn’t mad despite his indignant tone, his smile threatening to take over his entire face. you giggled, even while standing up to reach for a beach umbrella behind you. “what’re you doing?”

“i’m just gonna go set this up by their little pool. they must be so hot-“ before you could even blink, rafe took the umbrella from your hands. you couldn’t help but stand there dumbly, your ex flicking his head back in the direction of the pool chair.

“relax. i got it, mama.” a red hot desire burst through your veins at how easily those words left his mouth, forgetting how slick it could be. as if that weren’t enough, rafe tucked his head down to place a chapped kiss along your cheekbone, already on his way to your daughters before you could register what had happened.

you could still feel rafe’s kiss on your cheek and his warm face beneath your palms even after he returned to your side. he sat closer to you this time, and you couldn’t believe how giddy you felt. especially after everything that had happened between you two since your first meeting at the country club as teenagers. you birthed his children for gods sake, but it felt as if you had just held hands on the playground for all your classmates to see. “i think they should start learning how to swim. what uh, what d’you think?”

you blinked, watching your girls who were as cool as cucumbers relaxing in their kiddy pool. “i’m afraid i’ve turned them into pool loungers and they wouldn’t like it.” rafe laughed at that, sipping his beer with a warm smile. the kids had lifted up their sunglasses momentarily at his arrival, pretending to be nonchalant but giggling madly when he attacked them with kisses after setting up their umbrella. “but we can try. maybe we could teach them next weekend in the big pool. the shallow end is only three feet.”

“yeah, yeah i can do that.” rafe nodded to himself. “i have a few meetings on friday, but i’ll clear my schedule for the weekend. that work for you?”

“you’d be able to get the whole weekend off?” you didn’t mean to sound disbelieving, but you also needed to make sure that rafe wasn’t making promises to your girls’ that he couldn’t keep. you had been down that road before, and they didn’t deserve that.

the eldest cameron sighed through his nose, quite literally shrugging off your concerns. “it’s my company. i should get the weekend off. simple as that.” you immediately raised a manicured brow at that. where was simple as that when you were deciding baby names? nursery colours? having cravings, morning sickness, giving birth, changing diapers, staying up for hours into the early morning when the twins wouldn’t stop crying? where was simple as that when he missed watching their first steps, hearing their first words, potty training? times two? but yes, the mountain of toys falling off their playroom shelves was enough consolation. two hours a week at most with their father was apparently enough. all the money in the world and he couldn’t tell them apart unless he was able to see the initials strung around their necks. “what?” rafe seemed genuinely confused at the way you shut down, and that was the worst of all. he genuinely couldn’t fathom how much of your life you had given to your children.

you were still so young when you had gotten pregnant. it happened during your year off after high school graduation, you hadn’t even been with rafe for a year, hadn’t even been legal enough to drink. still, ward- albeit geriatric- insisted, stating an abortion would be preposterous, and rafe listened to him. it was no question that you loved your children more than anything else in the world. you would never regret having them for a second. except you couldn’t believe that rafe had promised you he would be there for you, that he loved you, but still left you alone during the most difficult time of your life. all for ward. rafe was able to grow up. rafe was able to reinvent himself. rafe was able to leave when things got hard, and rafe was able to come back anytime he wanted because you let him.

“mommy? i need a towel. gotta go potty.” rosy tugged at your hand, lifting you out of your stupor. you snapped into action, picking up the fluffy pink towel behind you and drying your daughter off as quickly as you could.

“do you need me to come with you?”

rosy shook her head, already running into the house as fast as her legs could carry her. “no. i gotta pee!”

rafe chuckled from behind his beer, but you didn’t see anything funny about the possibility of your daughter having an accident. “where’re you going? she said she’s fine-“

“she could’ve had an accident, and i’m not making her walk out here to tell me. i need you to watch val.” you both turned to catch the girl quickly looking away from your conversation, resuming playing with her toys. “i think you can manage that much.”

“hey-“ rafe’s larger hand just managed to grab your wrist, but you pulled it away twice as rough, moving back a few steps. the man opposite to you immediately stood up, his once intimidating height appearing smaller and smaller the more you let yourself think about the past few years. confusion bled into his hurt expression, his hushed irritation only adding to your turmoil. “c’mon. what’s going on-?”

“you-“ you lowered your voice suddenly to keep val from hearing you. cursing yourself for how it wobbled with tears, teetering on the edge of a sob. rafe could only watch helplessly. that’s all he’s ever been able to do. “you choose when you come and go. you get to break promis-es.” a wet hiccup left your lips, quickly cut off by your shaking left hand. your ‘promise ring’ felt more like a shackle with everyday you spent apart from the man in front of you. rafe’s mouth fell agape, taken aback at how quickly everything had shifted. a watery smile drew itself over your trembling lips, doe eyes staring up at the man in front of you with an eerie sense of glee that withered away the longer they did. “but time is a thief, and he’s robbing you blind, rafe.” rafe swallowed dryly, twisting his face and shifting on his feet before his fail safe expression made an appearance. every feature of his, especially the ones your daughters’ shared, became devoid of any kind of emotion. you sniffled pitifully, wanting to curse yourself for being so stupid. for believing that he loved you despite his first reaction being aloof condescension at the discovery of your achievements. for believing that he abandoned you and the children he forced you to bring into this world because he had no other choice. for believing him about anything. “no amount of money in this world will ever be able to change that.”

with that, you dashed into the house after rosy, missing the way rafe’s stoic expression crumbled behind you.

#i’m really proud of this one tee hee #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #dad!rafe au #girl dad!rafe #dad!rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #obx fanfiction #14-02-21 #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

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hairmetal666 · 8 months ago

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Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.

And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.

They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--

Steve Harrington is his bed.

They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--

They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.

They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.

Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.

Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.

Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.

They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.

After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.

He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--

"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.

"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.

Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.

Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or

It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--

Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.

Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.

He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."

Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."

They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.

There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.

"Stop," he whispers to Steve.

Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.

"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."

"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"

"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."

"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."

"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."

"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.

"Then we'll deal with it together."

"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.

A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.

Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.

They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.

"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.

"Hey yourself."

"It's Bi Visibility day."

"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going

"I want to come out."

He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"

Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.

"How do you want to do it?"

He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.

They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.

Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.

The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.

Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.

He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"

"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.

"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"

Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #actors steve harrington and eddie munson #costars #hooking up #fluff #costars to lovers #idiots in love #feelings confession #coming out #bisexual steve harrington #it's not bi visibility day but i liked eddie using it as a come on #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson #i don't totally know what this is

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theosbaby · 1 year ago

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lost in the fire

theodore nott x fem!reader x pansy parkinson

masterlist

SUMMARY ! you said you might be into girls, you said you're going through a phase... well, maybe you can bring a friend.

WARNINGS ! reader is bisexual, sub!reader, dom!theo, dom!pansy, SMUT, threesome (fmf), tribbing, oral sex (male and fem receiving), p in v, praising, dirty talk, unprotected sex. this is the first time i write a threesome, hope it doesn't suck.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. first time posting here, hope you like it!

inspired by 'lost in the fire' by gesaffelstein, the weeknd

it was a friday night. slytherin party night. best fucking night of the month. the common room was crowded, everyone was there, including some students from other houses, and you were dancing with pansy in the improvised dance floor. both of you were sweaty and a bit drunk as you rubbed your bodies together to the rhythm of music, teasing and seducing each other.

meanwhile, a couple of hungry eyes watched you from afar; theo nott was sitting in one of the couches, glass of whisky in hand, as he analysed every movement you both made. theo had been trying to get in your pants for months now, but you kept rejecting him because you had been having some doubts about your sexuality since you started being friends with pansy and you realised that you liked her as more than friends. "i'm going through a phase" you had told him, but theo wasn't going to give up that easily; he was determined to fuck you.

seeing you dancing so provocatively with his best friend ignited something in him, so he finished the rest of his whisky in one gulp and stood up from the couch, deciding to approach you confidently.

"hey there, beautiful," he whispered in your ear, pressing his body to your back while you kept dancing with pansy.

you jumped slightly at theo's touch, surprised by his sudden appearance. you turned around slightly to face him, still holding onto pansy's waist as you said, "oh... hey, theo..." your voice was breathless, and you glanced over at pansy, who grinned back at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

theo and pansy were childhood friends, so she obviously knew about the guy's feelings for you. and she also knew that those feelings were reciprocated, even though you had never admitted it out loud. they both liked you and you liked them back, and she had no problem with sharing, so she pushed you against theo's body, sandwiching you between their bodies while she winked at her best friend.

you felt theo wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his free hand running through your hair. he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"you look incredible tonight," he said softly, before kissing your cheek gently.

he couldn't help but notice how well you and pansy complemented each other, the contrast between your personalities creating a perfect balance. and he wanted desperately to be part of that.

"dance with me," he asked you.

you hesitated, but nodded slowly, biting your lip nervously as you kept holding onto pansy's waist. you felt a thrill of excitement run through your body when you ground your ass against theo, moving sensually to the music. your eyes were fixed in pansy's green ones the whole time, feeling the heat emanating from their bodies as the three of you started dancing together.

the air became thick with desire in no time. pansy ran her fingers through your hair, pulling it back lightly to kiss your neck gently. at the same time. theo's hands roamed over your curves, feeling every contour of your body underneath your tight black dress. he could see the way your pupils dilated as you turned slightly to look at him, and he knew you were getting aroused. he pressed himself even closer to you, feeling the heat of your bodies melding into one.

"i wanna fuck you so bad," he whispered in your ear, pressing his hardening erection against your ass, "and so does pansy, you know?"

you blushed deeply at theo's words, feeling your heart rate increase as you tried to process what he was suggesting.

"you have us wrapped around your pretty little finger, love..." he kept talking, making your body flinch at his words.

"do i?" you inquired with faked innocence as you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

"oh you know damn well, baby."

you looked at pansy almost instantly when you heard her soft voice and you saw her smiling playfully back at you.

"so what are you gonna do about it?" you asked teasingly, looking between them with doe eyes full of curiosity and anticipation.

pansy reached out to stroke your cheek affectionately, before standing on her tiptoes to press a passionate kiss to your lips. you gasped in her mouth as you felt her lips against yours.

theo watched you both closely, his cock stirring in his pants as he imagined the three of you naked and tangled up between his bedsheets. he could hardly believe his luck; you were finally willing to have sex with him... adding pansy to the mix just made him harder.

"why don't we get out of here so we can make you feel good, love?" he suggested, his voice low and grave with need. "would you like that?" he asked you, placing some wet kisses on your neck as you kissed pansy.

you pulled away from her kiss reluctantly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. you glanced at theo, biting your lip as you thought about what he was suggesting. you didn't want to make things awkward between them, since you knew they were such close friends, but at the same time you couldn't deny the thrill of being with both of them at the same time.

"yeah... i want that," you answered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared deeply into his eyes.

"my dorm," theo replied simply, leading the way towards the boys dormitories without any further discussion.

when you arrived at his room, he unlocked the door quickly, pushing it open and gesturing for you and pansy to enter ahead of him. once inside, he closed the door behind him and locked it before turning back to the both of you, finding you already kissing again. "fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, watching closely as he started approaching you.

you felt theo's body pressing against your back as pansy devoured your mouth, slipping her playful tongue between your parted lips. his hands started roaming over your body and you moaned softly against pansy's lips, your own hands exploring her slim body while you pulled her closer to you.

after a few seconds you broke the kiss and turned to face theo, not wanting to make him feel left out; you grasped his neck and pulled him into a kiss too. he fucking moaned at the contact and the sound made you feel weak on the knees as you tangled your fingers in his soft wavy hair.

pansy started lifting your dress over your hips slowly, placing wet kisses on your shoulders and neck while her fingers caressed your thighs. when she exposed your black lace thong, she started toying with the hem of it teasingly, making your breath hitch.

theo pulled away from you reluctantly, gripping your dress to take it off completely. you stood almost fully naked and flushed in front of his hungry gaze, which wandered all over your bare form.

he grasped your jaw, lifting your head so that your eyes met his as he pressed against your body, muttering, "so fucking beautiful."

he captured your lips in another filthy kiss as pansy cupped your pussy over your soaked underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise.

"oh my god," you whined in between kisses.

you parted your legs to allow the brunette to touch you as she pleased.

"she's so wet," she said in a whisper that the both of you could perfectly hear and theo groaned.

"bed, now," he ordered, pulling away from you.

while you made your way towards his bed, you could hear the rustling of their clothing as it hit the floor. you sat on the edge of the mattress and pansy was the first one to approach you, already naked.

"You have a beautiful body, pans," you complimented her, opening your legs for her.

you saw her smiling as she positioned between your spread thighs, placing a little peck on your lips. you grabbed one of her breasts, toying with her perky little nipple until it hardened and she let out a soft moan, her eyes closing and head falling back.

pansy shifted slightly, intertwining your legs with hers so that your pussies were pressed against each other, and she ground against you, grasping at your hips to hold you close. you moaned softly, feeling a surge of pleasure shoot through your body as your cunts rubbed together through your underwear. immediately, your hips bucked against pansy's, wanting to create more friction between your clits.

"mmm... feels so good," you said breathlessly, getting wetter by the second.

your gaze drifted to theo, who was watching you both intently, his cock straining against his boxers as he listened to your breathy moans. you watched him approaching you, unable to hold back any longer. he kneeled on the bed next your body, taking his thick and long shaft out of his underwear; your eyes widened at his size.

"gonna be a good girl and suck me off, love?" he growled lowly, his voice rough with desire.

he brushed the tip of his cock against your lips, while pansy and you kept tribbing, and you nodded eagerly, opening your mouth and taking theo's cock in your mouth greedily.

you wrapped your hand around his base and squeezed him tightly, taking him as far as you could without gagging. then, you started bobbing your head up and down while you used your tongue to tease the sensitive head of his dick.

you looked up at him with a playful expression in your eyes and theo groaned at the sight, feeling his cock slide inside your warm, wet mouth. he ran his hand through your hair, pulling at it slightly to guide your movements.

"that's it, love," he whispered hoarsely, "such a good girl."

pansy moaned loudly at the sight, grasping hard at your thigh, and also praised you, "you look so pretty sucking theo's cock, baby."

theo glanced over at pansy, seeing her grinding slowly against your pussy, your panties damp with your combined juices. he couldn't help but think how incredibly erotic the scene was.

you hummed around theo's shaft, feeling a tingling in your core as pansy pulled your panties to the side and kept grinding against your bare pussy, her hand moving to caress your swollen clit.

"mmm... i want to see you come, baby," she whispered seductively, "i want to watch you cum for us."

theo groaned louder, feeling his own release approaching as he took in the sight of your soaked cunt pulsing with need; he was so close to cumming, but he managed to hold back.

your cheeks hollowed as you continued to suck theo's dick, despite your need to pull back and moan freely, feeling your climax building up inside of you. you kept sucking him until your breathing became so uneven that you felt like couldn't breathe with his dick on your mouth and you released it with a loud pop.

"so close... i'm gonna cum" you warned, your walls contracting around nothing.

theo leaned in to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking at it and making you moan. you looked up at pansy with a pleading expression in you eyes and she smiled, rubbing her thumb harder against your clit until your were coming.

"that's it, let it out, love," theo whispered with his mouth pressed to your breast, his fingers caressing the other one.

you came hard, letting out a loud drawn-out moan while you gasped for air, feeling your pussy spasm violently and your whole body trembling from pleasure. pansy came right after you with a loud cry, her back arching as you both tried to keep the movements of your hips to ride out your orgasms, finally, she collapsed onto your chest, her breathing ragged and her heart racing.

theo watched closely, his cock throbbing at the sight of two beautiful women writhing in pleasure beside him. he leaned in to press a kiss on your lips, you returned it lazily as you recovered from the aftershocks of your climax.

"gonna fuck you now," theo muttered between kisses, "you want that, pretty girl?"

"yeah." you nodded eagerly.

you reached for pansy's face, cupping her cheek to pull her into the kiss too, the feeling of both of their tongues and lips brushing against yours made you whimper. you couldn't help but smile, pulling back to watch them kissing while you caressed their faces; the sight only made you wetter.

it was theo who broke the contact after a few seconds, pupils dilated while he grabbed your hips and placed you higher on the bed, your head falling against the pillow. you spread your legs wider instinctively to make room for him as he positioned between them. his hands moved up your thighs, slowly caressing your skin, until he reached your thong and started pulling it down; you lifted your hips and closed your legs momentarily to allow him to take it off.

"such a pretty little pussy," he said, sliding the head of his cock between your slick folds.

you whimpered softly at the action and bit your lower lip, your hips buckled.

"you gonna eat pansy's cunt while i fuck you, yeah?" he commanded in a tender voice, still rubbing his tip against your puffy clit.

you couldn't form any coherent sentence, so you limited yourself to nod in agreement. then pansy approached you, placing a brief kiss on your lips before straddling your face. you grasped at her thighs, lowering her until she was sitting on your mouth and you sucked her pussy greedily, making her moan as your tongue lapped at her clit. you felt theo slipping one finger inside of you slowly and you hummed against pansy.

"so tight and wet for me, huh." his words made you tighter around his digit. "gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart."

he inserted another finger next to the first one to stretch you out, curling them to rub your g-spot. his actions had you moaning repeatedly as you practically made out with pansy's pussy.

"please," you begged, growing inpatient; you could feel your juices dripping onto his bedding.

the sound of your voice was muted by pansy's flesh, but he understood you perfectly and decided to comply. you felt him slowly pushing his cock inside your tight pussy, stretching you out until he was fully seated in your wetness; you heard him moaning loudly.

"god, your pussy is fucking heaven..." he groaned.

you whimpered against pansy's flesh and grasped hard at her thighs, licking a long stripe from her entrance down to her clit, capturing it between your lips to suck on it. she kept moaning and squirming and you knew she was close.

"doing such a good job eating pansy out, love," he muttered as he started thrusting into you, setting a slow pace at first. "gonna make her cum on your pretty face?"

you hummed in delight as you felt his cock hitting all the right spots, your hips bucking to try and match his rhythm.

"fuck yes!" you heard pansy moan while she ground her hips faster against your tongue, her legs started shaking underneath your touch.

you couldn't see anything since her body was blocking your view, but you could hear the sound of wet kisses and theo's skin slapping against yours as he quickened the rhythm.

pansy came with a series of moans while she rode your face, body trembling and head falling back. then, she collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily; her cheeks were flushed.

you looked up at theo, lips swollen and glistening with pansy's juices as you took in the sight that was thedore nott towering over your body while he fucked you. you wrapped your legs around his hips and he leaned in to press a passionate kiss to your lips, tangling his fingers in your hair.

"i've wanted this for so long..." he groaned in your mouth, breaking the kiss.

he left a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and towards your neck. your bodies were so close together that his pelvis rubbed your clit with each thrust, sending shivers down your spine. you grasped at his hair strands, forcing him back up to keep kissing him.

"fuck," you whimpered between kisses, "wish i've let you fuck me sooner."

he chuckled at your admission. "yeah?" he bit your lip teasingly, looking into your eyes with a playful gleam in his. "well, guess we'll have to make up for the lost time."

you nodded eagerly, moaning loudly when you felt pansy's hand slipping between your bodies to start toying with your swollen clit; for a moment, you had forgotten she was there too.

your orgasm started building up due to combination of the stimulation on your clit and his dick rubbing your g-spot.

"i'm gonna cum," you told him, your pussy clamping around him like a vice.

"go ahead, love," he encouraged you, "cum all over my cock."

he watched closely as your pussy engulfed his dick and the sight almost sent him over the edge, but he managed to hold back until you were coming around his cock with a loud cry, muscles tightening and legs shaking. the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him was all it took for him to spill inside you, filling you with his cum as he let out the prettiest whimpers.

"fuck, theo." you panted out, falling limp onto the mattress.

he placed a series of kisses on your forehead and temple as you both came down from your highs.

"yeah, i know." he chuckled while he pulled out, laying down next to you.

the three of you laid there in silence for a few minutes, completely spent and satisfied, as you cuddled.

"hottest thing i've ever done," you whispered, your gaze wandering between them both, "we should make this a habit."

you heard them laughing affectionately at your comment... they couldn't help but agree with you, though.

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #pansy parkinson #lorenzo zurzolo #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter #harry potter oc #harry potter oneshot #harry potter original character #theodore nott smut #theodore nott scenarios #theo nott smut

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utterlyotterlyx · 6 months ago

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The Time Travellers Husband

Rhys x Cassians!Sister!Reader

Summary - The gift of time travel was unique to you and you alone, the only thing is that you can't control where you go or when, or for how long.

Warnings - ptsd, trauma, angsttttttt, fluff, mentions and depictions of SA, Under The Mountain trauma

Word Count - 6.8k (unedited, don't come at me)

Based on this ask x

It was an odd feeling, to travel through time. The sensation of it was like you were swimming toward a tide break, desperate for oxygen that felt an infinite number of lengths away whilst battling the currents of time like they were rips in the ocean waves.

Reaching the destination had never been the issue, it had always been the disappearance, the blinker of your essence as you faded into oblivion for what felt like minutes to only return to your husband hours, days, or even weeks later.

No one understood it. Prythian had never been graced with a traveller before you, even Helion and Thesan had researched endlessly but returned to Rhys empty handed. All he wanted was to help you to control it, he knew the mental toll it often took on you considering how you sometimes travelled to the darkest of places and memories, most of which were never your own.

Nights had come and gone where he would have to cradle you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear whilst you cried from the nightmares that plagued you; of bloody battlefields and torture, both of which you'd have to endure until the Mother decided to send you back to your mate who was waiting for you in Velaris.

Rhys had always been fated to be yours, you were certain of it.

The pair of you had grown up together thanks to Cassian being your older brother by only a couple of minutes, he had been gifted the strength and agility of the gods whilst the Mother had sealed your fate long before you were both even conceived.

It had snapped for Rhys first, on your birthday 300 years ago. Mor had insisted upon throwing you and Cassian a joint surprise birthday party at the House of Wind, though she had told you that she had planned an intimate dinner for you all to make sure that you dressed as best as you could. As a thank you for everything you had done for them, from your incessant teasing to your bounding wisdom, Rhys had delved into his mothers trousseau and had hand-picked the most spectacular dress he or you had ever seen; though, he hadn't told you where he had gotten it, you were led to believe that he had it commissioned.

Rhys had kept it a secret from everyone, he didn't want to upset Cassian or ruin anything for you, he wanted it to snap for you on its own.

It only took a year for the bond to snap for you.

It had been one of the more warmer afternoons in Velaris, and you had been tending to the garden at the River House, planting your favourite shade of peonies into the earth when you felt the sensation. Cassian had returned to the garden to find that you had disappeared, leaving your tools buried in the soil and your scent drifting away in the breeze.

You had been transported to a shared memory, but the projection of your present-day body found itself stood behind Rhys, staring inward at the room buzzing with anticipation. Nerves were pouring from him as he fidgeted in his spot, whisky in hand and swirling it every moment his attention wasn't stolen by a passer-by muttering a greeting to their High Lord.

It was a night you remembered very clearly, but you weren't there to live it again through your point of view, you had been taken there to see it through his.

Looking toward the large double doors of the House of Wind, you watched as they opened to reveal both you and Cassian arm in arm. Cassian was wearing his usual lax trousers and open collared shirt, hair styled into a low bun with strays falling over his face; and then there was you, and you watched Rhys inhale sharply as his eyes landed on your frame, scanning you from head to toe whilst joyous shock consumed your angelic features.

The dress he had gifted to you had certainly been the right choice, it accentuated each and every curve and line of your body, hugging your delicious hips and exposing just the right amount of skin. And your wings, gods, they had fluttered and rustled with every compliment directed at your from a room teeming with whispers. The garment was the shade of newly born starlight, a cascade of fine diamonds had been sewn into the skirt and they flowed downward like lazy ocean waves at sunset. Light bounced off of you, your skin held a certain shimmer to it and the warm faelight was making you glow.

The brightest star in a sea of darkness. Everything felt dim in comparison.

It felt as though you were on the first row at the theatre, enthralled in the emotions of the moment; you examined Rhys closely, how his eyes trailed down your body and then to your face, and then they widened, and he stumbled backward, his fingers floating over that particular spot on his chest whilst the past version of you was none the wiser from her spot on the other side of the room, laughing and thanking Mor for all of the effort she had put in to make your birthday as special as possible.

As though you could see the golden thread winding itself around you, Rhys muttered a singular word to himself, a word that made your heart clench in its cage

Mate.

That night was just over a year ago. Why hadn't he said anything?

Before you could fathom an answer, you felt your essence be pulled back to the present, and you landed in the main living area of the River House feeling confused and conflicted, and betrayed to a degree.

Within moments Rhys was on you, standing at your side whilst your gaze bore into the ground, he could see your mind reeling, replaying whatever you had seen from whichever moment you had been taken to. The sky had grown dark beyond the window, telling you that the day had scurried by whilst you had been kidnapped by your power.

"Hey, hey, hey," Rhys cooed to you, trying to gently pull your mind away from the memory or future, "Where did you go, darling?"

Your brows twitched with every thought that flew through you and Rhys turned your body to face his own, resting his large hands on your arms and rubbing his thumbs softly against the skin he found there, lowering his eyeline to yours to try and capture your gaze.

Then you peered up at him, eyes colliding with pools of violet serenity, and it snapped, your own thread dancing outward to meet the end that had longed for it for so long and you gasped when it found its marker, "When were you going to tell me?"

Knowing what you meant due to the opening of the bond, Rhys' expression faltered, but he held onto you tighter, "I wanted you to find out on your own. The bond is a beautiful thing. I just wanted it to snap for you when you were ready."

Rhys' fingers reached for an escaped strand of hair, delicately tucking it behind your rounded ear in a way that made your wings shiver, "You've lied to me for twelve months."

He cringed, his fingers retracting from the shell of your ear, "It was more like avoiding the truth," you gave him a pointed stare, "Which I know isn't good enough. I'm sorry, y/n."

You'd be lying to yourself if you said that you hadn't wondered what a life with Rhys would look like, the High Lord was the most stunning male you had ever seen, and the way he carried himself in front of you and others was so alluring to the point that you often thought of him when you were alone in the confinements of your bedroom. Rhys had always respected you, he had always held a certain tone of humour with you that neither Cassian or Azriel were privy to, and he had always been the one to look out for you the most.

Despite being very well aware of your tactical prowess, Rhys did all he could to avoid sending you on missions, and when he did send you away, it was often on his behalf to other courts, he knew they adored you just as much as he did so much so that you would never truly be in any real danger.

"Say something. Please."

Worry had infected his bones at the possibility that you may not want him, and the longer you stood saying nothing the more tense he became, "My head hurts," and it did, not just from the information, but from the anguish travelling brought upon your body; Rhys knew that little fact better than anyone considering he often tended to you afterward.

A hand rested on the side of your face, his fingers curling around the back of your neck, "Let me look after you," Rhys visibly relaxed when you nodded, exhaustion settling into you and coursing down the bond.

Sweeping you into his arms, Rhys rested his cheek atop your head, inhaling the lavender of your shampoo as he carried you through the house that he had permanently moved into to be closer to you; he paced up the stairs and into your bedroom, laying you onto the pristine white sheets before finding his place beside you and pulling your body flush against his.

Lazily, you traced your fingers over his clothed chest, drawing small circles and tendrils over his heart, "What did you see?" Rhys asked you, his breath caressing your forehead and his digits curling into your hair in the way he knew brought you untold relief.

"Our birthday last year but from your point of view," your voice paused for a moment as you recounted the images in your mind, you craned your head upward to meet his nervous gaze like he knew that all it would take for his dreams to burn would be the mere action of you pulling away from him, "I saw how you looked at me from across the room when the bond snapped for you, I felt the air shift in a way. You were looking at me like I was the brightest star in the Prythian skies."

A ghosting smile quirked at the corners of his mouth, your voice was soft, void of any anger. Rhys dragged his thumb across your lips, resting it at the dimple in your cheek, "You are." Rhys' eyes drifted over your face, drinking in the fine lines of happiness that had embedded themselves at the corners of your eyes, "You are the star which points to home. You are my homeland, y/n. I think that you always have been."

Watching your gaze soften, he had to ask you, "Does the idea of me disgust you? The idea of us?"

A furrowed brow greeted him, but you shook your head softly, your cheek rubbing against the silk of his shirt, "How can I look away now that I have seen you?" Reaching to brush your fingers against his jaw, eye sparkling and brimming with the silent permission he had been waiting for.

In one swift but gentle motion, Rhys rolled you onto your back, cupping your face in his hands and hovering his lips a whisker away from your own. His breath fanned across your face, it was warm but heavy, he was overthinking it and what it would mean, but nothing would stop him from claiming you. Not even Cassian.

You pulled his eyes to meet yours, dragging him from the thoughts that plagued him, and like you were a spring in eons of desert, Rhys drank. Connecting his lips to yours was something he had only allowed himself to dream of, but nothing could have prepared him for how you tasted. Honeysuckle and sea salt, with the slightest hint of sweet spice. Rhys couldn't stop himself from deepening the embrace, running his tongue along your bottom lip and then darting it into your parted mouth, exploring every inch you would allow him to whilst curling the fingers of his free hand around your hip, his other resting at the back of your head.

Reluctantly, Rhys created a space between your lips, feeling himself losing control of his body the longer he was connected to you; he watched closely as your chest rose and fell in quick succession, the curve of your breasts grazing against his shirt and lips sinfully swollen from the onslaught of his adoration for you. He found his place beside you once more, pulling you to him so that your head rested on his chest, "Rest now. We can face the world tomorrow."

What you wouldn't give to go back to that moment. Everything had been so much simpler then. The new nerves and the oncoming anger from Cassian had been the only negativity in your world, though, your twin had taken the news much better than you had expected, he had only beaten Rhys once before the happiness for you had taken over.

If you were going to be mated to anyone, at least it was to the person who doted you and protected you at all costs.

It didn't take long until he was asking when the first babe would arrive.

It wasn't like you didn't want children with Rhys, it had been a topic that made you both excited, but you were also very happy with one another so had decided to not explicitly try for a babe, but if it happened then you would both be overjoyed. It took of mounds of pressure from your shoulders.

The mating ceremony itself had been beautiful, Rhys had truly spared no expense on the intimate ceremony where he had also sworn you in as High Lady of the Night Court in front of your family, and he had cried nearly as hard as Cassian when you saw you walking down the aisle in the dress that you knew belonged to his mother, the same one he had seen you in when the bond had snapped for him with some minor alterations, that being a lace veil that clipped into each loosely wound braid of your hair and matching gloves that kisses above your elbows.

The Inner Circle had succumb to the possibility that they wouldn't see you both for at least a month afterward. You were far too radiant for Rhys to allow from his sight, not only as his newly wedded wife, but also as his High Lady and the future mother of his children. You were exquisite.

Centuries passed and your love and devotion toward one another never waned, if anything it only grew, and you didn't think it possible that you could love anything else more than Rhys, and you were right.

There wasn't a single moment of the day where you didn't want to rip his clothes off and have him fuck you until you couldn't form coherent words, and he was always happy to oblige you. No matter what he was doing, whether working through stacks of paperwork in his office with hair messed from raking his fingers through it or relaxing in the living area after a long day, if you entered his space with that feline speck in your eye, he would be the one throwing everything aside to be pulling those mewls from your lips.

It was a love that Prythian would never see again, a love it would always search for and wither when it couldn't be found.

What you'd give to go back to that. Back to the time before Amarantha happened.

You remembered the feeling as though it happened only yesterday, the tidal wave of love and regret and sorrow, a pleading tsunami that you returned with your own, and you could almost see his sad smile, drowning in that feeling for a heartbeat longer before the bond went cold. Cassian and Azriel had burst into the room after hearing your screams all the way from the training ring at the House of Wind, finding you balled up atop the cold ground sobbing and clutching at the skin where your heart lay.

Azriel had moved to you first, his arms wrapping around your body and shadows peppering your tear-stained cheeks, he coaxed your ire from you, freezing as you told him that the bond had gone cold. It had only taken a few minutes for him to piece it together, of Amarantha no doubt trapping him below the mountain and him playing along in order to protect his court, his home, his y/n.

It had taken weeks for you to rise from the ashes of your bedroom, you had refused to move from the sheets that held his scent deep within them. But you were the High Lady of the Night Court, and Amren was struggling to lead the court on her own. Throwing yourself into your tripled duties was all that you could do, if Rhys ever came home, then that home had to be healthy and flourishing.

The citizens of Velaris pitied you more than they mourned the absence of their High Lord, you were the image of despair, pallid skin and a certain voidness to you usually bright eyes, though it didn't stop you from ruling over the court whatsoever. The only time when you would break would when you would be alone, and Cassian and Azriel couldn't allow you to wither away any longer so moved you into the House of Wind, leaving your once perfect home abandoned.

Before you knew it, 50 years had drawled by, 50 years without your mate and best friend. Life had tried to curl around you gracefully, to will you back into some form of enjoyment, and Azriel had coaxed you to accept the hand offered to you, so you did, but there wasn't a single moment that came and went that you didn't think of Rhys and what he was enduring Under The Mountain.

"Cassian, have you been to Windhaven lately? I need an update on the wing clipping laws we put in place." You entered the study, your pale blue dress dragging behind you from the pace of your steps, the crown growing heavy on your head.

It had always been something you and Rhys had spoken of, banning the archaically brutal practice of wing clipping in Illyria. Once upon a time you had almost been one of those young girls, pinned to the ashen soil with a blade a feathers touch away from taking the most sacred part of you. Luckily it never happened, and you had Cassian, Azriel and Rhys to thank for it.

Not looking up from the reports in your fingers, "Cass?" you gritted, too exhausted to deal with his silence. You had disappeared again that day, it had happened much more frequently over the last 50 years without Rhys by your side, but you weren't allowed to rest when you would return, there was always too much to do. "Cassian." Finally you looked up, finding your twin leaning against your desk with a shit-eating grin on his face and puffy eyes, "Are you going to answer me within the next two working minutes or shall I just go to Windhaven myself?"

"Oh how I have missed that voice."

Frozen in place, you felt your heartbeat rattle in your chest at that voice, the voice that haunted every moment you lived no matter if you were sleeping or walking the city aimlessly. Needing some form of confirmation you looked up to Cassian, your bottom lip wobbling when he nodded once at you and leaned back.

Then you felt him, his hands on your hips and nose grazing the curve of your shoulder, those two things alone making the reports in your fingers float to the floor. His chest met your back, his arms wound around your midsection, "Tell me that I'm not travelling right now."

A chuckle rumbled within the chest behind you, his lips pressed dainty kisses to your exposed skin, "I'm here. It's real."

A sob fell from your mouth and you turned in his arms, you buried your head into the nape of his neck and cried, and you felt bad for it, you weren't the one trapped in that place, but part of you had wished that you had been.

At some point during your crying and Rhys shushing you softly with his fingers running through your hair, Cassian had left the room, closing the door on his exit to give you both the privacy you so desperately needed. Another few moments passed and Rhys pulled away slightly, creating a small space between you so that he could hold your face in his hands and know that it was all real, that everything he had endured had been worth it just to have that moment.

"You look exhausted, my love," his thumbs caressed the skin of your slightly hallowed cheeks, his face lowering to level with your own. He didn't look much better than you did, his eyes were darkened with the things he had seen, his skin rough and pallid from the lack of sun, fine lines of worry and anguish ran along his forehead, "Cassian told me that you've been running this court on your own," he told you with a gentle smile, knowing how difficult it must have been for you to rule without him, to take on that load and also deal with your gift, "You've done so well, darling. I'm so lucky to have you."

Rhys pressed his lips to your forehead like a mother would a babe, loving and certain, and you couldn't help but sob again at the words and his touch, "I thought I wasn't going to see you again. I thought you had left me forever. When the bond went cold, and I couldn't feel you, I thought-"

"Hey. Don't think that. There is no reality where I wouldn't return to you, y/n," he rested his fingers at the base of your neck, relishing at the touch of your skin beneath his fingertips, "You are the only thing that kept me alive down there," his eyes glassed over, replaying memories he would soon rather forget, "I couldn't look into your eyes, but they were all I thought about. I memorised your face long ago, but it was a mirror for me there, or a prayer I had to recite nightly to make me remember who was waiting for me. I told you that you are my homeland, I will always come back to you."

Tears rolled down both of your cheeks when he kissed you, so full of need but also so hesitant, it was tender and light and warm, and you felt the floodgates of your bond crash open, your heart fighting against the tide of his relief and exhaustion, of his love and regret.

"But right now, I would like to bathe with my wife, and hold her until we both fall asleep. That's all I want, to hold you. Can we do that? Please?"

You had never been able to say no to Rhys and you weren't about to start, not when his eyes were weary and heavy with the turmoil of being away from you for so long, for witnessing and taking part in the acts that he had.

Carefully, you took his hand in yours, entwining your fingers and kissing his knuckles, "Of course we can," a gentle tug from you spurred him to move, and you led him through the House of Wind to your private chambers, mumbling to him that sleeping in your shared rooms had been too painful.

The tub was already steaming by the time you entered the bathroom, candles were lit and the window showed the golden valley you both adored so much as well as the snow-capped mountains. A once sultry act of undressing one another held a new meaning, you stripped one another bare with the upmost of care, taking time to touch one another as if you'd blink and it would all be gone.

Rhys lowered himself into the water first, almost groaning at the lavender soak that seeped into his muscles, and he held a hand out to you, positioning himself perfectly to accommodate you between his legs and running his fingers along the membrane of the wings you had done your best to tuck away.

"I love you so much," he kissed the glistening skin on your shoulder, trailing his lips from the spot up to the shell of your ear, and he smiled into your hair when you returned the sentiment, kissing his open palms and drowning in his power.

It didn't take long for exhaustion to settle within both of you, and once it had, Rhys lifted you from the tub and wasted no time in drying you and pulling one of his shirts over your head, pecking your nose once it was secured around your frame and nestling into bed with you for the most tranquil nights sleep he had gotten in 50 years.

It had taken Rhys a few weeks to feel comfortable enough to be intimate with you, he had never given you a reason, but you knew why. There had been many rumours of Amarantha's whore, and you could only imagine how he was feeling. Whether he didn't wish to admit it to you for fear of embarrassment or judgement, you weren't really sure, but you would never push him. Everything had to be done when he was ready and he alone.

You'd wait an eternity if that's what your mate needed.

Settling back into life in Velaris had been strange for him, he didn't know a single thing that had gone on in his court during his absence, but you walked him through it all. From your detailed reports, Rhys realised just how much love you had poured into his, your, city; orphanages had opened in the city offering education to the less fortunate, you had cracked down on the barbaric act of wing clipping so much so that there were very few cases reported in the last three years, and you had funded so many projects that would better the lives of all, from art galleries and theatres to community gardens, the Night Court was undeniably thriving.

"How have you accomplished all of this?" Rhys had asked you one morning as he scanned over all of the reports, flitting through the pages in wonder.

You had nervously picked at the skin around your nails at the question, "In all honesty I never really stopped working," his gaze met yours and he softened, opening his arms to you and pulling you into his lap, "I was scared that if I stopped doing all of this," you motioned to the papers littering the desk, "That the weight of your absence would consume me. I wanted to make you proud."

"I'll always be proud of you, my incredible mate and wife. You are amazing. Truly."

The darkness still gathered beneath his eyes, more nights than not you'd be awakened from slumber by his nightmares, and you would rise immediately to hold him, to remind him of where he was and that she was gone. It was clear that he didn't wish to burden you with the details, as usual, he was protecting you.

After a couple of months, Rhys felt like he was back to his old self, his usual banter with his brothers was rife and he was spending a lot more quality time with you whenever he had the opportunity. Everything had felt peaceful.

Until it wasn't.

The feeling you hadn't been consumed by since the day of his return had slowly settled in your gut, clawing and tearing at your essence, but it felt more sinister, like it wanted to ruin you. Crashing ceramic pulled Rhys from his book to see you in the doorway, your hands turning translucent and eyes full of terror as it travelled up your arms. Rhys was moving to you in an instant, trying to reach you before you disappeared entirely but he was too late, his fingers moving through you like you weren't even there.

It felt as though death itself had come to take you in that moment as you clawed your way to the surface.

You had landed in a place you didn't recognise, dark stone glistening with day old rain, hallways illuminated by lanterns and torches. The halls were wide, so tall that you felt tiny in comparison to them, and you knew where you were, where the Mother had decided to take you.

Under The Mountain.

A faint voice drifted through the air to you, pulling you toward it, and you followed the call, peaking into each room before you found the one where the sounds felt much more powerful. Though, nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to witness.

The room was dark, dressed in hues of black and wine red, faelight illuminated the walls lined with various dark artworks, a curved tub sat to the left, and in the centre was a large four poster bed, and on that bed was your husband and that creature of a woman you knew to be Amarantha.

Rhys' eyes were closed as he thrusted into her, his brow furrowed and face flashing with pain and remorse, you covered your mouth to conceal your gasp, forgetting that neither of them could see you. Amarantha lay beneath your husband, moaning and raking her talons down his spine, breaking the skin and grinning at the blood sweeping across her lips; her legs were wound around his waist, pushing him deeper into her with every rock of his hips.

"Tell me, Pet," she drawled, rolling him onto his back and sinking down on him, riding his cock and muffling her delight at the feeling, "How do you think your precious wife would feel if she knew what we did each night?" Rhys visibly tensed, "Do you think that she would still love you? Do you think that she would still want to be wed to you?"

Everything within you was telling you to look away, but you couldn't.

It was a question that Rhys couldn't answer, mostly because he didn't want to think about what you would do if you knew, which was the reason why he hadn't told you.

Tears streaked down your face, dripping onto the stone cold floor with every roll of her hips, "Who would want to be wedded to a cheating whore?" Amarantha's talon dragged down the column of his throat, "Do you not think that she deserves so much better than a male who would allow this?"

A moment of silence passed from Rhys, a silence that was filled with her moans as she neared her release, "Yes, I think that she does."

The words broke your heart, that your mate truly believed that you deserved better than what he had done, the things she had made him do. Each night she tormented him, made him submit to her against his will, and told him that you wouldn't want him when she was done.

With that soul-tearing admittance, Amarantha's movements jolted around him, her talons tugged at her hair as her moans climbed and she rode out her release, and once she had slowed, she wasted no time in removing herself from your mate and pulling a robe over her alabaster skin, smirking to him wordlessly before padding right past you on her exit.

It had all been to protect his home from her, and by extension, you. And that fact made you feel sick to your stomach, so sick that you felt the bile rising upward. Rhys had endured the unspeakable to protect his court and family, he knew what Amarantha would do if she got her hands on any of you, but it would be you who would suffer the most, and you knew that Rhys would stop at nothing to avoid that.

As soon as she was far enough away, you watched Rhys crumble; he perched on the edge of that large four poster bed with his head buried into his palms, loud, painful sobs causing his body to tremble and quake. His pain roared through him, "I love you," you rushed to him, you tried to reach for him but your fingers passed right through his body that was covered by a thin onyx sheet, "I love you," he repeated but more strained, he looked to the ceiling, his cheeks stained with his anguish and guilt, "I'm so sorry, darling. I'm so sorry."

"Rhys, please," your broken voice pleaded, but he couldn't hear you, no one ever could when you travelled, you were a simple bystander in these types of memories, "I love you."

The loud sobs of your mate continued, he wrapped his arms around himself, it had been the only thing to bring him comfort, and it was clear that he was imagining that it was you holding him and not himself. Rhys carried on apologising to the skies, hoping that his sincerity would reach you, hoping that you knew just how much he loved you and how much he would endure to keep you safe from her.

You weren't sure how long you knelt before him on that cold stone floor, telling him that everything would be alright, that no matter what happened you would never stop loving him whilst your own sobs broke your heart at the sight of your mate looking so defeated and worthless.

Only when that memory began to fade did you realise that the Mother was done with you, that she deemed you enlightened enough to return you to your home.

You landed with a thud, your knees crumpling beneath the weight of your body making you a blubbering mess on the floor. Marred hands found you instantly, shaking your shoulder softly until you found their owner, hazel pools of worry sketched over your face, his shadows frantically weaving between one another with panic. Sound had become muffled, like you were in a daze, you faintly knew that Azriel had called out to someone, likely telling them to fetch your husband as your focus honed in on him, "Where did you go, y/n?" Azriel had never looked so distressed, "You've been gone for three weeks."

Three weeks.

Rhys must have been going insane.

All you could do is cry and fall into his arms, the vision of your mate causing your body to shake, and Azriel folded you into his embrace, rubbing circles into your back, "I was Under The Mountain," you told him between sobs and he froze, like he knew what you had seen, "I'm going to throw up."

Another presence entered the room and moved to the two of you, an angelic touch graced your lower back and a bowl appeared before you, her fingers tugged your hair from your face as you hunched over and emptied the contents of your stomach, "It's alright," Mor cooed to you, rubbing your back to ensure you had gotten out what you needed to, curtly telling Azriel to meet Rhys and Cassian before they entered and saw you in such a position.

Mor held you as you sobbed, your guilt eating you from the inside out from knowing that Rhys had endured all that pain and suffering and abuse to keep you all safe, to protect you from the devil incarnate.

It didn't take long for the doors to open once more, Rhys took one look at your coiled frame, and the bowl to your left, and strode over to you, sliding onto his knees and gathering you in his arms. Knowing you wouldn't be able to tell him what exactly it was that you saw, you felt him caress your mental shields, asking for permission to enter, and you allowed it, you allowed him to sift through the images and felt his grip tighten around you.

Rhys scooped you into his arms and didn't say a single word to anyone on your exit, he carried you to your shared bedroom at the House of Wind, the same place you had accepted the bond centuries prior, and settled you onto the edge of the bed, kneeling before you and kissing your knuckles.

"I'm sorry that she did that to you," tears flowed down your face, landing on the backs of his hands, "I'm sorry that you had to do that to protect us."

Surprise settled onto his face at your words, like he wasn't expecting anything of that nature to leave your lips, "I'm sorry that she made you believe that I wouldn't love you because of it. I do love you, more than you'll ever know. Nothing would ever be able to take me from you."

Rhys picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and perching on the space where you had been seated only moments before; he peered up at you, his eyes the lightest shade of violet you had ever seen them, "Don't apologise for something that wasn't your doing," he wiped your tears, "I would do it all again if it meant that you would be safe, I'd endure the most wicked of punishments to keep you healthy and alive."

"I don't want you to ever feel like that again."

"I won't. I'll never leave you, not until death finds me and even then I will cling onto life with everything I have left so that I'll be able to find you in the next. It's always been you, and it'll always be you. There is nothing that can take me from you, I would burn the world to ash if anyone ever tried it, do you hear me?"

Rhys knew how hard it had been for you even if you hadn't told him yourself. It had been Azriel who had confided in Rhys about your mental state over the years, how you struggled to sleep and that when you did you were haunted by his loss, how you had travelled more often and for longer periods of time than before and how you always returned to them exhausted and little more broken than the last time. Rhys had been told how hard the entire Inner Circle had to work to contain you, to make sure that you didn't journey to Under The Mountain yourself and get yourself tortured and killed right before his eyes.

Desperate to hear your voice, Rhys continued on, "You and I are entwined for eternity, my love. Our life is going to be full of wonder and joy, that is what we fight for. In 100 years when we have our own babe and a life of serenity, I'll know that everything we went through was worth it, to have a chance to create the life we always dreamed of, the life we spoke of before the bond snapped and we were just Rhys and y/n dreaming about the future."

Rhys' fingers ran through your hair, pulling all of the tension from your body in the exact way he knew that you needed, "Tell me how much you love me."

Your palms rested flat on his chest, his heartbeat thumping through the skin to feel you, and he smiled softly, "I love the way your skin feels beneath mine," his arms pulled you closer into his chest, his chin rested atop your breastbone and his eyes bore into yours, "I love the little noises you make in the night when you're getting comfortable, and the little content sighs when I wrap my arms around you. I love the sound of your voice and your laugh. I love your truth and wisdom, and how you've never been afraid to do what is right despite the consequences. The world bores me - it bores me and irritates me when I'm away from you. You're the only thing that makes this life worth living. I love you, I love you more than our insanely irritating family," a gentle laugh passed through your lips, and you sniffled, "I love you more than this court or my power, I love you more than life itself, because what is the meaning of life if you aren't in it?"

"Rhys?" He hummed in question, still staring deep into your soul, "Love me. Please." It was a whisper, one you weren't quite sure he had heard, but he nodded gentle and placed you onto your back, ensuring that there were enough pillows beneath your head before he lowered his lips to meet yours.

Rhys made sure that he showed you how much he adored you and everything that you had given him, his lips covering every inch of your skin in a night filled with passion and the purest or adoration. And, unbeknownst to either of you in that moment, it seemed that your collective dreams were going to come true a lot sooner than you thought.

Author's Note

Brb crying x

(Also happy 1k followers besties, my first Rhysie fic is here for the occasion)

#acotar imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #rhysand #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x you #rhys x y/n #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #cassian #azriel acotar #mor acotar #amren

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crushribbons · 1 month ago

Note

oh hey… it’s me again (maybe you know who i am… perhaps a certain request about best friend seb might ring a bell). since it’s october i was thinking i should request this fantasy of mine where us and seb go to a halloween party together (as friends, you know how it be) and they start getting drunk and sebastian starts to tease us a bit. one thing leads to another... w/ dirty talk. it might be good to add that seb is dressed as the devil and we dressed up as an angel *evil laughter* PLS AND TY

the way i sprunt to my laptop 🏃🏼‍♀️ YOU ALWAYS DO ME SO RIGHT BESTIE...

𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖇

summary: All Hallow's Eve brings out the evil streak in Sebastian Sallow.

warnings: 1.6k words, SMUT (18+), brief mentions of penetrative sex, angel/devil costumes, kinda religious ment?, fem reader/oc

a/n: i have no defense for this xx laney

Slosh.

“Ugh.”

Amber liquid splashed out of her goblet and onto her chin, and she recoiled at the unexpected sting of the liquor. The Ravenclaw couple that had muscled past and jostled her hadn’t noticed a single thing, too consumed in finding a free boys’ dormitory, presumably to study for that Potions exam they had next week. Their giggling made Sebastian roll his eyes.

“Children,” he muttered into his own glass of butterbeer. He looked over at her and saw she was trying to wipe the firewhisky from her face with only her fingers and began fumbling around his jacket. Producing a cream handkerchief, he passed it to her, and she sullied it with abandon. Her face once more clean, she frowned at the handkerchief as she handed it back to him.

She asked, “Couldn’t find a red one?” and Sebastian chuckled. He was clad in a borrowed, bright crimson ensemble of Weasley’s, though it far surpassed the typical vibrancy of the Gryffindor colors.

It had been difficult enough for her to talk him into trekking up to the Ravenclaw common room just before midnight, let alone to convince him to actually wear a costume. “Come now, it’s All Hallow’s Eve, you have to wear something fun!”

“Well, what are you wearing?” he had asked, sourly, trying to look disinterested in the conversation and the tome he was flipping through.

“I found this old, white, sort of…” She’d scrunched up her nose and tried to find the right word to describe the gown she’d found shoved into a chest in an empty classroom one day. “Princess-y sort of thing. And I think I can cast an illuminating charm on the silver bangle Grace is lending me, and make it hover above my head…any guesses?” “Heavenly,” Sebastian had hummed. Her stomach twisted.

And when he’d met her in the Entrance Hall that night, skipping lightly down the stairs in his red suit, ridiculous pitchfork in hand and some conjured horns twisting out of the top of his head, it had done several somersaults in a row. Fuck, she had thought, he shouldn’t look that nice, he really shouldn’t.

As the party continued raging around them, tipsy teens struggling to hold their alcohol shouting loudly over one another and the silly music playing on the phonograph, she tried to keep the glances she snuck at Sebastian surreptitious. She’d drunk too much already, she knew she had, but her lips were itching to say something stupid, so she busied them with another sip of whisky. Sebastian’s nose and cheeks were a light pink that was no doubt brought on by the few drinks he’d already had, and the portion of his chest she could see atop his vest, covered in light curls of chestnut hair, was flushed as well. Gods damn him, why hadn’t he worn a shirt underneath the suit?

“Very risqué of you, you know,” she said, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and brushed a finger over his exposed collarbone. An electric shock coursed through her finger when she made contact and she yanked her hand away. Behind them, Amit Thakkar plunged his head into the icy bowl of water that he’d thrown several apples into. She hoped vaguely someone would pull him out before the lightweight drowned.

“Couldn’t I say the same of you?” he replied, but his voice was an octave deeper than she was used to, and when she met his eyes, she swore she saw flames spark to life. “You’d think I’d be used to extreme temperatures, being who I am, but bloody hell…you’re fucking blistering.” Seb tapped his glass against the side of his head, indicating the small devil’s horns, and ran his tongue across his upper teeth in a way that suggested he had a matching set of fangs. It made her knees knock together, even though she was seated.

Drunk, he’s just drunk, that’s all, we both are. Still, the word “blistering” stuck to her just as Sebastian’s eyes did while she fidgeted from the tightness of her cherubic garb. And friends can flirt as much as they want when they’re drunk, can’t they?

She searched for something witty to say, but all her ideas went out the window when Sebastian leaned forward in his armchair so their legs were touching and said, “Want to go bob for apples?” A thousand horrible and corny lines thundered through her head and she clamped her jaw tight so nothing like “I can think of something else I’d rather get my mouth on” slipped out.

“No, I just want another drink,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the din around them. “I’m starting to be able to think straight.” Sebastian grinned and nodded. He stood and she tried to avert her eyes from the inch of bare stomach she got to see when his vest rode up. Tried to. Sebastian grumbled something about having to wrestle the drinks away from the mad scientist brewing concoctions behind the massive end table that had been designated as the bar.

She watched as he slunk away through the crowd and silkily slid up to the bar, swiping an untouched bottle of firewhisky while Garreth’s lab-coat-clad back was turned. He waved it in triumph across the room at her and a flare of courage allowed her to raise her index finger and crook it towards herself, mouthing “Come here, then.” Sebastian’s eyes went as large as the jack-o-lantern on the table next to her, and he practically tripped over a clump of Gryffindors on the ground playing spin the bottle as he fought his way back to her.

“Pour me a shot,” she instructed when he stood over her with the whisky. One more and I’m going to kiss this man, I really a–

Sebastian had other ideas.

He clamped the cork in his back teeth and ripped it out with a pop! “Open up, angel.” And before she could protest, the cold, glass neck of the bottle was slotted against her lips and he was tilting it forward, looking down at her with hazy eyes and a smirk. The whisky left a trail of flames down her throat that she didn’t notice, though her eyes watered. When she choked a little on the end of the shot, Sebastian pulled the bottle off, groaning as he did so, “Fuck me, I didn’t mean for that to be so…”

Her breath caught in her chest. He turned away from her and took a swig from the bottle himself, and if he thought she didn’t notice the way he adjusted his trousers, swearing again under his breath, he was drunker than she was. Dropping back into the chair across from her, he tried to recover by shakily laughing.

“You’re going to lose your halo for that, little cherub.” “The devil made me do it, though,” she pouted back in a tease, but her fingers dug into the flesh on the top of her thigh in an attempt to distract herself from the arousal growing between her legs. As if matters couldn’t get worse, Sebastian huffed and set the bottle down before unbuttoning his vest. He mumbled that it was hot, really hot in here, but she didn’t hear a word of it, too invested in ogling him shamelessly, the same way he’d been eyeing her all evening.

They both stared at each other for a good while, the noise from the party fading into nonexistence the longer they did so. Consequences suddenly seemed like something to be worried about at a later date. “What are they playing over there?” she asked, leaning around him to look at the Gryffindors Seb had almost trampled a minute ago.

He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Uh, spin the bottle, I think.”

“Oh!” She knew that already. Was very familiar with the game. “And what’s that?”

Ten minutes later, her dress lay, discarded, across some poor second year’s bunk, and Sebastian was mouthing his way from her neck down to her bare shoulder and her fingers were tangling in his hair while they lay on the cold ground. “Seb,” she gasped. Her hands met the horns on the crown of his head and she would have laughed, if his cock hadn’t pressed against her stomach, allowing her to feel how huge he was. As he pulled away, she saw that a pearl of pre-cum had been left behind, to decorate her as his.

“You’re so fucking sweet, perfect,” he muttered, grinding his hips down onto hers and making them both hiss and moan. “Almost a shame to corrupt this innocent little angel, but someone’s gotta do it, hm?” He reached over to the empty whisky bottle on the ground next to them and gave it a lazy spin. It wobbled for a few seconds then stopped, pointing aimlessly at a corner of the room. “Look at that. My turn again.” She squealed in delight as he once more attacked her mouth with a searing kiss that grew heavy and hot. They both tasted like whisky and sweets and it was making them even dizzier than they already were. “Seb,” she choked out once again. “Fuck me, please, just get inside me.” His hands were running up her legs, rough fingertips sending bolts of lightning through her body. Ever the tease.

“Christ,” Sebastian blasphemed with a grin. She let her head loll back while he kissed his way down her breasts and stomach, the hard bulge in his pants grinding onto her wet cunt. “I just want to ruin you. But I am having quite a bit of fun watching you squirm underneath me.” She whined. It had no effect on him.

When his cock slipped into her, they both gasped. It hit a delicious, spongy spot inside her that made stars burst across her vision. He waited less than a second for her body to adjust to him before he was fucking her ruthlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead and off the end of his nose onto her. “You’re going to have to beg to be let back into heaven after this, my cherub. But, shit–” The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room, filth permeating the air. “–you feel too fucking good for this to be a sin.”

masterlist

#REQS LIKE THESE>>>>>>>#I AM FOREVER IN YOUR DEBT FOR PUTTING THIS IMAGE IN MY HEAD 🙏🏻🙏🏻 hope i was able to deliver the vision!!!#sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut #laneywrites

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hardlyinteresting · 2 months ago

Text

Lemon drops

Jake Seresin x reader

Nights at The Hard Deck just got a lot more interesting.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 1.3K

Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

Friday nights at The Hard Deck are always busy. Sailors and pilots all stopping by on their way home from base eager to let loose, that's to be expected. What he's not expecting is to walk in on a bachelorette party in full swing.

In a Navy town, it's not completely unheard of for last-minute bachelor and bachelorette parties to fill the local dives, but the larger-than-normal crowd and the young woman dancing on one of the tables has Jake rolling his shoulders back before he settles into the night. He'd been looking for a chill vibe, a cold beer and a few rounds at the pool table. But, he won't complain about a night of flirting, he fancies his odds in a room full of jealous bridesmaids and tag chasers.

Rooster and Coyote seem to have gotten a head start if the empty glasses, or the girls they're helping line up shots at the pool table are any indicator.

Leaning against the bar Jake waits patiently for Penny to finish making a tray of shots. Lemon-coloured liquid poured from the silver shaker he's so rarely seen used at The Hard Deck, into sugar-rimmed 1 oz glasses. His eyes follow the tray over to the crowd of already tipsy ladies all dressed up to celebrate the blonde in her “bride” sash and tiara. But his attention lingers on the woman who laughs brightly as she raises the tiny glass for a toast.

“To the bride! I think I speak for everyone when I say that we love you so much, and we're all so excited for this next chapter of your life!” The rest of the party cheers in response, “Now, let's get drunk and start drinking something that's not just sugar”

She's quick to down the lemon drop shot, quickly licking the drip that rolls down the back of her hand. She's sun-kissed and glowing even under the dim overhead lights. She must be from the area, not just passing through. The music is loud and the bar chatter is louder, and she's stunning as she moves her hips to the sound stepping down from the table. She's licked away the sugar rim on the glass by the time she makes it through the crowd to lean at the bar next to him. It's only when Penny sets a beer in front of him that he realizes he's been staring at the mystery girl.

She's even cuter up close. And for the first time in a long time, he's speechless. Several recycled one-liners rattle around inside his head, but not a single one feels like it's worth the breath. Something about the way she moves through the room, either unaware or intentionally disinterested as several other patrons turn their heads to look her way, tells him she'll have no trouble shooting him down. Regretfully, it only makes him more intrigued.

And as if she couldn't get sweeter, the scent of her perfume or her shampoo, or the hell if he knows knocks him back. Brown sugar and vanilla. Of course, she smells like sugar. He scolds himself as he replays the image of her pink-tongued and unctuous in her attempt to clean the syrupy glaze dripping across the back of her hand. He may be a self-proclaimed flirt and widely identified playboy but he does do his best to be a gentleman. Despite his attempts to think of church surgeons, or his mother's lectures, geography lessons, or complex aerodynamics, he knows it will be ages before he's able to completely erase the surprising saccharine bar room sight from his mind.

“Whiskey, please,” she asks Penny, “and thank you for making those shots”.

“For you girls it's no problem,” Penny insists, sliding the glass of whisky across the bar.

If he bothered to look up he'd catch her raking her own eyes across his form, paying attention to read his name badge, and trace his pins in an attempt to keep herself from ogling his broad shoulders, and strong arms. The khaki uniform does him all sorts of favours. Penny gives her a knowing smirk as she slides the whiskey across the bar.

Unashamed, his eyes follow the intriguing girl back across the room lingering too long on the back pockets of her little denim shorts.

He's no stranger to wooing pretty girls in bars. He won't brag, but he's got an admirable success rate when it comes to finding a partner for the evening (and he's never heard any complaints). But, something about this girl is different. She's not just pretty, but she's stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way that damn near knocks him off his feet. The way she talks with her friends, and laughs without hesitation has a smile forming on his own face and he feels like a damn idiot for watching her from across the room. She pays no mind to any of the pilots or other patrons who mosey over to shoot their shot with her and the rest of her party, but she accepts every challenge that comes her way at the dartboard and the pool table.

“What's wrong hangman? Cat got your tongue?” Penny laughs, “I was sure you were going to try to chat her up”.

The truth is for the first time in a long time he feels like he might be out of his depth. Like a schoolboy with a crush on the new girl in class.

“The night is still young,” he shrugs.

But the night flies by, he drinks his beers, and laughs with his own friends, makes his own bets, but never crosses the room.

She buys her own drinks, and corrals her drunk friends safely into the backs of taxi cabs, calling out for them to text her when they get home. And when closing time rolls around she settles her tab and says goodbye to Penny with a hug, and a reminder that she'll see her later.

Jake goes home alone, the thought of the sugar sweet girl on his mind.

When he returns to The Hard Deck next it's a week later. He saunters in with a grin. a bet with Rooster and Phoenix waiting to be won at the pool table, and an ice cold beer with his name on it calling for him.

He heads to the bar first, leaning waiting to be served when he smells the hauntingly familiar smell of vanilla sugar. He's damn near certain his heart stops when she turns around behind the counter, a megawatt smile on her when she says, “hey, what can I get you?”

“Whiskey. Neat. Thanks Sugar,” the name rips off his tongue before he can stop it.

“Coming right up hot shot,” she laughs.

“It's ‘Hangman’, actually. But you can call me Jake”.

She hums, setting his glass in front of him, “you were in here last week, weren't you”?”

“Sure was,” he confirms, allowing himself to memorize the way she leans back against the middle counter, her arms crossed; so calm and so cool. He suddenly feels the need to swallow hard, his cheeks warming under her directed gaze.

“You won a lot of money off of my friends,” he offers when she says nothing else.

She shrugs, “it's a habit I can't seem to break”.

He hopes she never does. Watching Payback and Coyote empty their wallets had been the highlight of his week.

“Well, maybe when your shifts over, you can come and try your luck with tonight's crowd, Sugar,” Jake offers. It's a feeble attempt at flirtation compared to his usual routine, but none of his words seem to be coming out right, his mind going blank each time he looks at her in her jeans and white tank top. Thoughts of lemon drop shots, short shorts, and table dancing fill his mind. Suddenly he's 13 again, asking a girl to the school dance with a racing heart.

“I'm here ‘til closing,” she tells him, saving him from his spiral. She sorts her station and wipe down the bar top, “but don't worry, I'll be able to watch you show off from over here”.

And with that she gone again, moving down the bar to help another customer.

Nights at The Hard Deck sure just got a lot more interesting.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #Pour me another drink

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euphemiaamillais · 11 months ago

Note

smth like reader and coryo being best friends and getting stuck in a small room (or smth like that yk) and they just can't ignore the sexual tension!! Please 😭😭

blurb - best friend!coryo and reader get up to some antics in a bedroom once they realise they are locked in…

cw: 18+//pussy eating//piv sex//semi-public sex//tipsy (but consensual) sex//alcohol consumption

(an: coryo is way too nice in this for my liking, but i don't think the reader would be that close with him if he was a complete asshole towards her

your head is swimming from all the noise that pounds out of the speakers at lysistrata vickers’ party. you are all celebrating the end of the semester, and the last break before you will officially be graduates of the academy. you are wearing a tiny black dress; barely covering your ass, and have to admit you are getting a little hazy on account of the whisky somebody had poured into a glass for you about an hour ago.

you stand to one side in the cramped hallway, watching as drunken seniors stumble past, some with their arms around each other; others patting their friends—green in the face—on the back before making a beeline for the bathroom. you’re alone, for now, and are pondering on how you shall entertain yourself for the night. you’d arrived here with your best friend, coriolanus snow, but he’d wandered off some time ago when festus creed had offered him some vodka.

as you waited, gnawing on your lip, loneliness swilling in your belly, your felt somebody creep up behind you. their breath was hot against your neck, and soon enough a pair of hands crept around your waist, pulling you flush against what appeared to be the torso of a well-toned boy. you swore to god if it was festus trying to coax you into his bed again—that had ended badly the last two times—you were going to turn around and slap him square across the jaw.

‘guess who,’ a familiar voice rings out, and you sigh with relief.

‘coryo!’ you turn around, thankful that it’s him. his blonde hair hangs in one eye, and you reach up to tuck it behind his ear. your cheeks are a little warm as you feel yourself caress him a little too much, but you put it down to alcohol. he’s your best friend after all.

‘don’t tell me you’re standing here all alone,’ he cajoled, and you smile sheepishly, casting him a knowing look.

‘you were the one that left me, if i remember correctly!’ you scold, smacking him across the arm.

'mhm, i'm sorry,' he gives your waist a squeeze, causing you to inhale sharply in surprise. he's always so touchy with you; you know it probably means very little, but still, you can't help but feel your heart pounding.

'well, what have you been doing then?' you cock a brow, an impish grin playing upon your lips.

he chuckles, shaking the bottle of what appears to be posca—that goddamned drink that they plied you with at academy dinners. 'well, festus was so insistent that i have some of his mother's homemade posca—he practically forced it down my throat.'

you roll your eyes at his inability to resist what's offered to him, after all, he's a capitol boy, star pupil at the academy. he's not drunk though, just a little buzzed—perhaps that's why he's gripping your waist still. not that you mind...

the party grows louder; and you feel your ears start to ring with the ridiculous noise that is churning out. some underground music from one of those nightclubs that a lot of your peers frequented.

'it's so loud!' you exclaim, pushing yourself closer against the wall, a little breathless. he's still standing so close to you...

he nods, and you glance around, wondering if perhaps you can find a spare room to talk to him. you hadn't come to the party with the intention to be ignored by him half the night—there was so much to discuss! especially when it came to livia cardew and her antics. he always enjoyed relishing in her miseries.

'look, i think that door's open,' you remark, casting your gaze to the door behind his shoulder.

you step away from him, reaching for the doorknob, and wiggle it a little. it lets loose, and the door eases open. the room is small—well, at least by capitol standards—but well adorned. it's some sort of guest room, you assume.

coryo follows you, and you let the door shut behind you with a click. for some reason, you are compelled to check if it is shut properly, from the inside. you twist the knob, but find that you cannot get out. your face is red with embarrassment.

'oh!' you cry out, and coryo casts a bewildered look in your direction.

'what's wrong?' he's a little perplexed by your outburst; typically you are very sound of mind.

'it seems that we're locked in,' you slap a hand to your forehead. 'fuck!'

he laughs, and takes a sip of the posca, wincing a little as the sweet herbal notes of the drink hit the back of his throat.

'there's nothing funny about this, coriolanus!' you scowl, using his full name to underscore your disgruntled nature. 'if we can't get out, we're going to be stuck in here all night!'

you realise how that would look—coriolanus snow finally fucking you. people had always assumed you were too close, and now this would only confirm the rumours if you couldn't manage to get out.

'you act like that's the worst thing in the world,' he rebuts, posca clearly dampening his usually more serious temperament.

‘well, not all of us are delighted at the prospect of being locked in a room with nothing to entertain them!’ you huff, dropping down on the bed in a haze of fury.

he waves his bottle of posca in your face. ‘not nothing, hm? why don’t you have some? you really need to ease up.’

you accept it, and take a large gulp, trying your hardest not to spit it out in disgust. you’d forgotten how potent it was. your head was swimming already.

‘see, i bet you already feel so much better,’ he slurs a little too enthusiastically. your roll your eyes, quite unnerved at his sudden change in personality. you preferred his more dour nature.

‘nuh uh,’ you shook your head, and then leaned against his shoulder. you were a little sleepy; it was well after midnight, and the posca began to make its way to your limbs. your legs were numb—you knew if you even attempted to stand up you’d send yourself straight to the ground.

coryo wraps one arm around your shoulders, rubbing his hand over the bare skin of your arms. you nestle into him, tingling at his touch. he’s so warm, which is unusual for him—he’s naturally cold blooded—but you relish in it. again, your heart seems to leap in your chest at his touch, like you’re some giddy schoolgirl. you never felt like this when festus had touched you—not even when you’d let him fuck you, mostly out of boredom. did you like coryo?

your head floods with thoughts. surely not? he was your best friend. to do that would be… oh, you don’t know… unnatural? wrong in so many ways? but you did have to admit, he was gut-churningly attractive, with his piercing blue eyes and blonde hair that fell in just the right way.

you recall the rumours from last year about his affair in the alleyway with some girl—something which earned him the reputation of a 'player'. you'd never brought it up with him, just as he'd never questioned what you and festus had gotten up to that cold week in january.

‘you’re so warm, coryo,’ you find yourself slurring. god, what had this posca done to you? you were behaving like a fool.

‘yeah?’ he asks softly, and you feel his touch drop lower, one hand caressing the outline of your breast. he’s practically ghosting over the fabric of your dress, but you can feel the fabric prickling ever so slightly as he moves his fingers.

‘coryo…’ you slur, but you don’t stop him. it feels nice.

he’s wanted this for so long. he’s usually not one for the girls at the academy—besides you. his beautiful best friend, his intelligent best friend. at first he was disgusted that he was able to admire a woman in such a way, but he decided that if everybody else did it, it wasn’t entirely beneath him. and besides, you were worthy of him. you’d proved yourself adequate in many ways.

coryo places a kiss on your outstretched neck, and you gasp, his lips hot against your chilled skin. you feel something hot between your thighs; that nagging sensation you got when you touched yourself late at night. goddamnit—why did your body have to betray you like this?

‘you’re so fucking perfect,’ he murmurs in the crook of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin of your décolletage. ‘gonna make you mine…’

your heart pounds in your ears at his last sentence; the way he utterly wants to possess you. you wonder if it’s just the heady effects of the posca, or if he really means it.

his kisses send shivers down your spine, skin tingling with pleasure. you had to admit, it felt so damn good. if you were going to be locked in this room all night, perhaps letting him touch you a little wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

‘mhm,’ you sigh, wrapping your hands around his neck. you pull him away from collarbones, where he’s sucked hot, red marks into your skin, and press your lips against his.

it’s gentle at first, not like the other boys you’ve kissed who shoved their tongues down your throat. he kisses you with passion, mouth hot with want, hands clawing at your dress which has already begun to ride up around your hips.

you moan into him, and open your mouth, feeling him slide his tongue in. it’s so hot and wet, your lips pressing against each other, him driving a hand between your thighs. he doesn’t ask, but you don’t mind, ceding all rights to him. the posca is causing your head to spin, but if anything it only makes him want you all the more.

you pull away for a moment, catching your breath. you are almost gasping. ‘coryo… i,’ you huff in exasperation.

‘shhh,’ his hand is stroking the inside of your thigh, and reflexively you clamp your legs together, trapping him. you don’t mean to, it’s only that you’re just so pent up.

‘i’m sorry,’ your voice trails off, watching as he pushes your legs apart, fingers ghosting over the sensitive apex that leads to your cunt. you’re aching for him, so wet that you can hardly bare it. it’s embarrassing.

‘fuckin’ hell’ he grits his teeth together in awe when he brushes a finger over your panties. ‘so fucking wet. is this all for me?’

you nod drunkenly, head nestled against his shoulder. you are barely afloat, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you are unable to hold yourself up.

‘dirty little slut,’ he spits, and you whine as he begins to rub at your clit. ‘all wet for your best friend. you’re practically begging for me, what, locking us in this room.’

‘didn’t mean to…’ you slur, but you’re too lost in the way he touches you; your core aching with every ministration. you felt that familiar nagging knot in your stomach begin to form, growing as he touched you more.

‘look at you; it’s pathetic,’ he cows, pulling away from you. you’re whining, desperate for him, bottom lip trembling with need.

‘please coryo,’ you grab his hand, attempting to put it back against your sensitive clit. he pulls away, shaking his head.

‘oh no, you don’t get to tell me what to do,’ he scolds, and you scowl.

he slides his hands back up your thighs, rucking your dress up around your waist and sliding your panties down. he shakes his head in disbelief. they’re soaked completely through.

‘you wear these just for me, huh?’ he questioned, holding the tiny, black lacy thing in his hands. ‘wanted me to take them off and fuck you like the stupid slut you are?’

your mouth goes dry. the way he’s speaking to you… it’s so nasty, and yet you can only feel yourself aching for him. wondering how his cock would feel as it stretched you out; fucking you until you were crying out his name.

‘coryo…’ you can hardly speak; the words are like dirt in your mouth.

he tosses your panties to the side, and moves away from your clinging grip, sliding to the ground. he’s on his knees, hands on either side of your thighs. is he? you’d never done this before—festus had been all about receiving, not giving.

‘spread your legs,’ he coaxes, and you oblige, cunt so fucking wet that you can feel the slick dribbling down your thighs.

he presses kisses up your shins, and then further, past your knees, as if he is praising your body. he gets to your thighs, which are hot and humming with fervour, and nips at the soft skin just as he did on your neck.

you are in agony over how slow he is, so you reach down to rub at your throbbing clit, but he grips your wrist, hard, and casts a disappointed look at you.

‘what did i say about touching yourself?’ he clucked his tongue in displeasure.

you sigh, helpless, and prop yourself up on his elbows. his mouth is edging closer to your cunt, and you whine again, desperate to be touched. you wonder how many girls he’s done this to before—but you find your heart spurs with a little jealousy at the thought of that. no, he’s your coryo after all.

‘please!’ you gasp pathetically, and he obliges, for once, tongue ghosting over your wet slit.

you whimper, his mouth soothing that hot desperation that burns at your core, and grip at the tresses of blonde curls that spill from his head. you have to admit, you’d thought about this a few times—he was terribly attractive after all.

he laps at the slick that is dribbling from your cunt, and artfully moved his tongue up and down your folds; taking care to ek out your desperation by avoiding your clit. he delights in teasing you; at the thought of making you beg for him to let you cum. his pretty best friend, her even prettier pussy, all for him.

you taste so good, and you hear a muffled moan escape his throat as he fucks you with his tongue. he moves his mouth up further, finally wrapping his lips around your clit. you cry out, cunt throbbing with want.

his hands move to grip at your thighs, hard enough that you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow. he’s lapping at your cunt like it’s his last meal; deftly sucking on your sensitive, throbbing clit.

you feel yourself getting closer; that tight knot unfurling, your walls clenching. you sigh at the pleasant tingling feeling that begins to dance upon your skin as you tug lightly on his hair, coaxing him on.

‘i’m so close,’ you somehow manage to gasp out, admiring his skilful abilities with his tongue.

he keeps the same pace, clearly well-versed in the art of cunnilingus. you feel yourself clasp your thighs around his neck, unable to control your pleasure.

‘sorry,’ you groan out, realising you are half-suffocating him. he gives your thigh a squeeze, indicating that he’s enjoying it.

you feel yourself unravel right there, slickness gushing from your cunt as your walls contract. he moves his mouth from your clit and licks up all the slick, moaning at the sweetness of your spend. he sticks a finger into your hole, and you whine at the overstimulation.

‘so fuckin’ sweet,’ he licks your wetness off his fingers, and moves to sit himself back on the bed.

you’re completely fucked out, high on bliss and pleasure; half-forgetting that you were at a party. you wonder if anyone had heard, and prayed silently that they hadn’t.

coriolanus brushes hair from your eyes, tendrils sticking to the beads of sweat that clung to your forehead. you manage to sit up, a little hazy, and see that he’s throbbing in his pants. your mouth fills with drool at the thought of his cock, and your face burns hot in embarrassment.

‘you’re hard, coryo,’ you tease, hand reaching out to rub the outline of his bulge. he grunts, but doesn’t stop you this time.

you purse your lips, and cast him a wide-eyed look. god, he wants to fuck you right then and there. but before he can do anything, you push him down against the bed, straddling him with your tender thighs.

‘that fucking desperate for me?’ he inquires, and you nod, fucked out on the desire for his cock.

you grind down against his pants, bare pussy rubbing against the rough fabric. your hands travel to the zipper, and you manage to pull his pants down to his knees. you palm him through his underwear—letting him know that two could play at the teasing game—until he practically had to beg you to stop.

‘gonna fuck you,’ you mouth hotly, slipping your hand under the waistband of his boxers.

you feel up and down the length—it’s long, for sure, and thick. you’d wondered if the rumours about him being largely endowed were true; now you could certainly feel that they were.

‘don’t be such a tease,’ he pleads, and you giggle, managing to slide his boxers off completely.

his cock is pressed flush against his stomach; it’s throbbing and so red, the tip almost angry looking. you slide your pussy over it, wanting to rile him up, but feel his hands grip at your love handles. he cocks a brow in disapproval.

‘you’re so big,’ you sigh breathily, trying to position yourself to slide him in. your cunt is trembling with want.

‘afraid i might stretch you out?’ he asks vulgarly. you shake your head with a little laugh.

‘mhm, no, i’m just glad,’ you remark. ‘festus was so inadequate.’

you see him wince at the name, and pout a little. classic jealousy on his behalf. he never did well with being second-best.

‘oh, don’t worry coryo,’ you stroke his chest teasingly. ‘you’ve done more than prove yourself already.’

having to soothe his ego was a little frustrating, but you figured he was probably going to be better than that useless rut. he’d already made you come. that was a start.

you ease his tip in slowly, gasping as he stretches you out. you find, unfortunately, that you’ll have to be slow. he’s just that big. he groans under you, cock twitching with desperation.

‘so fuckin’ tight,’ he says, one hand clutching at your ass. you sink down further, taking him in about halfway.

‘gonna stretch you out,’ he coos, rubbing gently at the small of your back.

you sigh with contentment, bucking your hips slowly, trying to take him further. you groan, the slick of your cunt coating his throbbing cock.

he thrusts up into you, and you feel him stretch you out more; pushing himself to the hilt. you gnaw on your lip, trying to hold back a whimper. it feels so good; the rigid veins of his cock brushing against your sensitive walls.

‘oh, coryo,’ you find yourself gasping out as you slide up and down his cock, the sound of your wetness mingling with that of skin slapping.

‘fuck,’ he grunts, fingers digging into your ass, pulling you down hard against his cock. ‘you feel so fucking tight.’

you toss your head back in pleasure, and find yourself wondering why you hadn’t done this sooner. he feels so good inside of you, pounding your achy cunt. you feel your core growing warm again with desire, and slide your fingers down to rub at your swollen clit.

‘mhm,’ you sigh pleasantly, fucking yourself stupid on his big, hard cock. ‘so fucking good, coryo.’

you build up a little momentum, needing him with more urgency, and find he responds diligently. he pulls you down against his cock, so you’re almost flush against his belly, and he pounds into you.

‘taking me so well,’ he mutters, grunting as your tight cunt squeezes him. he’s close, he can feel it, his muscles tensing up, cock trembling with need. his mouth goes dry at the thought of finishing inside of you.

you feel him cry out with exasperation, and it’s not long before he finishes inside of you, hot spurts of cum leaking from his tip. you continue to rock back and forth against him in feckless hope of making yourself come again, but it comes to no avail.

he slides out of you, cock still dripping with cum, and you lay down sloppily next to him. your breaths are ragged, the posca washing a tiredness over you. he drapes one arm lazily around you—a little more affectionate than he’d been with you before.

you rest your head against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. you’re yet to fully comprehend it all. you’re sure tomorrow you’ll probably wake up questioning what you’ve done, regret washing over you.

you’re not sure how to feel—you enjoyed it, that’s for sure; the way he made you cum using only his tongue, how he stretched you out with his big cock. but he’s your best friend… you’d never assumed something like this would come to fruition.

you decide that it’s probably for the best to put it aside, at least for the evening. your eyes begin to flutter shut, and you nestle into his warm embrace.

you feel yourself drifting off, heady with bliss and the effects of potent alcohol…

—

taglist (comment or send me a message if you want to be added!): @personalque

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #x reader #female x reader #tom blyth #the hunger games #smut #president snow #tbosbas x reader #tbosbas #tbosbas fanfic #the hunger games x reader #hunger games #drabble #fanfic #blurb #coryo smut #coryo snow

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

Text

menswear.

been wanting to write a menswear inspired lil ficcy for sooo so long n to celebrate the fact that i will finally hear it live after 9 years i thought this was a great time

a/n: i just wanna write a disclaimer that i am british and tend to britain-ise my writing so if it seems off for an american wedding don’t bite me x it’s ovulation week which is the only way i can explain this if i’m honest

summary: meeting steve at an old friend’s wedding could really only lead to one thing, couldn’t it?

18+. smut. alcohol and drug use. steve is a mess. no use of y/n!

steve’s still drunk from the night before, his tie crooked and one of the buttons on his shirt is uneven. he looked even more disheveled than he felt.

he hadn’t been keen on the idea of going to the wedding of his ex girlfriend and the man who essentially took her from him. not that he blames jonathan of course, he wasn’t exactly the gold standard boyfriend. he had his faults and would quite happily admit to them.

but still, it was confusing and weird and he’d tried to get out of it but robin had quite frankly insisted that he be there or else he was a terrible person.

so, as all sensible people would, he got absolutely fucking blasted the night before. he hadn’t meant to get so drunk but catching up with old friends and the kids he once looked after, had lead to him being carried off to his room by his best friend who was mumbling a bunch of profanities under her breath.

he still stank of booze, christ even he could smell it. it lingered on his body despite the twenty minute cold shower he had forced himself through this morning. there had been an attempt to style his hair but it mostly hung around his face in limp strands.

did you know the best way to beat a hangover is to keep drinking? hair of the dog and that. at least, that’s what he was telling himself. nursing a double whisky at the hotel bar at stupid o’clock this morning.

he didn’t have robin to hang off today, left to his own devices as she’d been recruited into the bridal party. her one track mind focussed on nancy and not her absolute failure of a best friend.

the venue was nice, a tad unorthodox and not where he’d choose to get married but it fit the strange pairing in a nice way. slinking up the cold stone of the aisle, trying to find his reserved seat among the crowds of people.

max pulls him into one of the rows, shoving him down on the empty seat with a small scowl on her face. she’d seen him struggling from her seat and had so graciously gone to help the poor man.

‘thanks.. max,’ he groans, nodding at the girl a she settles into his seat, honestly just hoping that the service would go quick so he could resume his pitiful drinking.

he sighs, thumbing through the programme. smiling slightly as he reads the officiants name, el hopper. they had just had to make this the strangest wedding he’d ever have the pleasure of attending.

‘do you know the bride or groom?’ your voice speaks from beside him, it’s the first time he’s realised that he’s actually sat next to anyone and he’s actually not in his own little world of misery.

‘huh?’ he asks, looking up to meet your eyes.

you’re smiling, looking as spritely as he wished he felt. clearly some people hadn’t got wasted the night before. amateurs.

‘do you know the bride or groom? sorry- i don’t really know anyone here,’ giving him a shy chuckle as your cheeks flush, maybe you would have to dip after the ceremony.

‘oh.. oh no, i know both of them.. nancy’s my ex girlfriend,’ he wants to kick himself because what on earth had compelled him to say something like that.

‘oh wow..’ you laugh, ‘not awkward at all then,’ kissing the back of your teeth.

‘it’s actually not.. not really,’ he shrugs, shuffling in his chair to face towards you properly, ‘i mean, if i had a choice i probably would’ve skipped but.. what can you do?’

‘right.. still, i don’t envy you,’ smoothing down the creased material of your dress, a deep green to match the earthy tones of the wedding.

‘d’you wanna know my secret to weddings?’ he smiles, leaning in.

‘mhm hit me.’

‘you just gotta get as drunk as humanly possible and they’re actually not so bad..’

‘isn’t it like..’ you check your wrist watch, ‘it’s noon,’ breaking into a giggle.

‘and that is why i started last night,’ tapping his finger on his temple, he was a genius really.

he wasn’t new to this game. having been forced to a plethora of fancy weddings with his parents and the wave of weddings from high school friends, he was wise to all the tricks in which made weddings bearable.

‘well, i might have to join you.. i don’t know anybody here,’ looking around at the hordes of strangers milling around the large room.

‘why are you here then?’ immediately wincing at his choice of words, ‘shit no.. i meant, do you know nancy? or jonathan? or have you snuck in?’

you giggle again and it’s music to his ears. sat next to a pretty girl who finds him funny? maybe today couldn’t be all that bad after all.

‘i know nancy.. we were roommates at emerson, she’s like.. the only person i’ve kept in contact with.’

he nods, going to speak but is abruptly interrupted by the sound of the organ chiming. your cue to actually start paying attention to the ceremony at hand. he turns his attention to the alter, exhaling heavily.

‘i’m so sorry.. i never asked your name,’ whispering with his body still facing the front, but completely leaning his shoulder into yours.

oh this wedding was about to be so much fun.

you had taken steve’s advice, who’s name you had now learnt, immediately downing a glass of champagne when you got to the reception. hey, if you were going to have to meet a thousand new people tonight, you’d have to be a little buzzed to do it.

it’s no surprise you’ve been shoved onto the singles table, finding your name on the board and slinking off to your corner of the banished. steve already sat slumped over at his seat which was suspiciously next to yours again. he totally hadn’t swapped out stacey’s name card for yours.. never.

you slide into the chair, ‘we have got to stop meeting like this,’ gently nudging his elbow with yours as to not alarm him.

‘huh,’ he smiles, eyes glistening, ‘it must be fate,’ swivelling on the chair to give you his attention.

‘must be,’ raising your eyebrows ever so slightly.

he’s nursing what must be his fifth? sixth? drink, this time opting for something a little more socially acceptable with a beer. if it weren’t an open bar he’d offer to buy you a drink but it seemed a little cheap.

‘so, where are you from?’ he’s utterly intrigued by you, desperate to know everything there is to know.

‘denver and then boston.. for college and now i’m in cincinnati for my job,’ you shrug, feeling immensely coy under his gaze, ‘i take it you’re from indiana like nancy?’

she had spoken about how people mostly stayed in their small town, they’d meet someone in high school and fall into the suburban family life without ever realising it. and then before they knew it, it was too late and they were stuck there. she was determined to not do that.

‘yeah..’ he sounds deflated, thinking of the place he called home, ‘but it’s home i guess..’ he taps on the table, ‘what d’ya do for work?’

‘i’m an editor at a publishing house,’ his expression says that he doesn’t entirely understand, ‘i work with a lot of writers and basically tell them what to do,’ that was the very basic premise of your role but you’d gathered that he probably didn’t actually care much.

‘oh wow.. so you’re boss lady then?’ swigging on the now-warm liquid, he’s listening intently to whatever comes out of your mouth.

‘hah.. not quite,’ fiddling with the tiny name plaque in front of you, ‘one day.. hopefully,’ you were never a fan of talking about yourself, ‘so what do you do?’

he rolls his eyes playfully, ‘work for my dad, i didn’t get into college soo.. he gave me a job,’ eyes wandering to the guests now joining your table, ‘but really i’m just a glorified assistant and even that’s being generous,’ playing off his disappointment with a small laugh.

‘well that doesn’t sound too bad..’ picking up on his demeanour, ‘shall we get another drink before we have to sit through the awful speeches?’

his pretty pink lips curl into a smirk, ‘i like your thinking,’ standing from the table with his hand offered out for you to hold.

‘i-i’ll say a couple words.. c’mon,’ he grins, stepping up towards the small stage, hopper reluctantly passes the mic over to steve, watching apprehensively as he climbs onto the stage.

robin sighs, this could really only go one way and she sure as hell did not want to be in the room to witness it.

there’s a chance that you two had slightly overdone it with the free bar.. you wince watching him up on the stage. the opinions of these people meant absolutely nothing to you but quite obviously did to him.

‘as you all know.. nancy is my ex girlfriend-,’ there’s a collective groan from the audience, ‘but.. but no, that’s not what i came to say.. i wanted to say that-,’ he hiccups into the microphone, ‘that the first time i properly spoke to jonathan, he beat my ass and fuck did it hurt,’ chuckling to himself, ‘but that ass kicking actually.. and you won’t believe it, but it made me a better person and y’know what.. i’m really happy for you,’ he thrusts his glass into the air, ‘so, please join me in a toast to our newly weds.. you deserve it,’ turning to face the cringing couple at the table.

nancy gives him a small smile, it wasn’t exactly shakespearean but the sentiment was nice and he hadn’t embarrassed himself or fallen off the stage head first so she was going to take it as a win.

‘thank you, steve,’ jonathan nods, steve’s sure he can see a tiny smile on his face despite the lousy speech he’d just given.

hopper claps him on the back as he gets off of the stage, taking a mental note to keep an eye on the boy for the rest of the evening. the free bar may not have been the wisest decision after all.

steve collapses into his chair, immediately leaning into you, ‘that was good, right?’ taking a sip of his drink.

‘uh.. yeah, maybe didn’t need to mention the ex girlfriend thing buuut.. i don’t think it was that bad,’ you laugh, watching as he nods in self satisfaction.

‘good, i’m glad you approve,’ his eyes are narrow, glossy as they look back at you, he tilts his glass for you to cheers.

‘cheers.. to a not-so-bad wedding,’ you say, knocking your glasses together.

‘and to new friends,’ he adds, that same grin you’d now become accustomed to after only a few short hours.

‘to new friends.’

you and your new friend had sorta maybe totally took full advantage of the free bar and the tiny bag of magic powder steve had kept in his blazer pocket. it wasn’t something you’d usually indulge in, but the champagne had gone to your head and the party was getting dull so..

‘i just wanna say.. i don’t do this shit all the time,’ using his credit card to push the powder into small lines on the edge of the basin, ‘just for when i need a little pick me up..’

he looks up at you from his hunched over position, he’s half-smiling as he pulls a ten dollar bill from his wallet, fiddling around as he rolls it into a small cylinder, offering it to you.

you’re cramped into one of the tiny cubicles together, your back pressed against the cold wall, ‘mm hmm and me either.. just to clarify,’ carefully placing the half-empty champagne flute down on the sink.

‘ladies first..’ hand brushing against against the small of your back as he stands up, mere inches from your face.

you oblige, bending over to sniff the powder, wincing as it stings on the way up. holding out the note for steve to take, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the note. perhaps it was the copious amounts of alcohol but you could’ve worn you felt your heart miss a beat.

he stands back up, holding his nose. eyes still very much refusing to leave yours. they’re a beautiful chestnut colour and you’re sure they looked even better with a sober mind.

‘ready to dance?’ you ask, raising your brows.

his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth to wet his lips, ‘in a minute,’ your heart pounding in not only your chest, ‘fuck- can i kiss you?’

‘please-,’

interrupted by his lips pressing against your own, eyes fluttering shut as his clammy hand finds your waist, pressing himself into your chest.

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, his tongue glides over your bottom lip, mouth opening for him, as your fingers thread into his hair. he tastes of beer, cigarettes and the mint he’d not-so-sneakily shoved into his mouth before bringing you in here.

it’s all teeth and tongues, his hands getting grabby as they begin to roam around. you so desperately want to jump up onto the sink and let him fuck you into the porcelain right here. pressing your thighs together trying to satiate the growing ache.

you don’t, obviously. his lips chasing yours as you pull back, clawing at the back of his neck, the thumping music of the reception getting louder as someone enters the bathroom.

you put your finger on his lips, willing him not to say a word as the stranger locks themself in the cubicle right next to yours. he’s smirking, pupils blown out from the substance you’d shared. it was exhilarating, pushing his knee between your legs, fingers digging into your sides.

jesus christ, it feels like you’re in this position for eternity. waiting forever for the mystery person to vacate the bathroom. growing impatient as his fingertips dance around your hips, teasing as they tug on your dress.

eventually, they get the fuck out and steve is on your lips again before the door had chance to shut fully. moaning softly into his mouth at the sheer feeling of his thigh brushing against yours. you were a mess and he’d barely touched you yet.

‘shall we.. go? i have a room upstairs,’ mumbling between kisses, not wanting to let go of your lips for too long.

there’s a banging on the door just as he’s managed to slip your dress off. you clutch the material to your chest, covering your dignity in fear of intruders.

‘steve? you in there?’ a woman’s voice calls through the wood.

your eyes widen, absolutely certain that he’d had some hidden girlfriend who was now positively fuming that he’d disappeared with you.

his head slumps as he breathes out, hair brushing against your face, seemingly relieved with whoever was outside, ‘it’s rob.. let me just..’ he clambers off of the bed, ‘she won’t leave until i answer.’

steve swings open the door, met with an unimpressed robin. she’s been scouring the party for the last hour trying to find him. only to find out that he’d last been seen with a girl no one had ever seen before.

‘heyy rob.. everything okay?’ he asks cautiously, well aware that he was shirtless, belt hanging from his pant loops.

‘is everything okay with you? you just disappeared.. what’re you doing in there?’ eyeing his disheveled appearance.

‘ah shit i’m sorry.. i couldn’t find you,’ lies, he hadn’t even looked, far too interested in getting you back to his room.

her eyes narrow, glancing down at the hastily removed heel in the doorway, ‘d’you have a girl in there?’

he frowns at his best friend, ‘wha-? i’m just, going to bed..’ following her gaze to the shoe, ‘yes.. there is.’

you try not to giggle from behind the door, watching as he kicks your shoe backwards into the room.

‘ew,’ she grimaces, ‘why’d you answer the door, you freak.. i’ll see you in the morning,’ scoffing as she walks away.

steve closes the door gently before making his back to the bed, ‘i’m so sorry.. she woulda called the cops if i didn’t answer,’ climbing onto the mattress, sat on his knees in front of you.

‘oh? and she’s your..’ slightly bemused as to who that even was and why she seemed to care so much.

‘best friend,’ he leans in, tugging at the dress still pressed against your chest, ‘so where were we?’ devious smirk painting his face as your grip begins to loosen.

he presses forward, connecting your lips once more, nudging you into laying back, hovering over your body with one hand attempting to wrestle the dress from between your bodies. it lands on the carpet with a soft thud, his hand now free to roam the length of your body, fingers softly brushing over the waistband of your underwear before settling on your thigh. it’s cruel and teasing, you’ve already wasted so much time.

you move your hips upwards, chasing his touch. utterly desperate to feel him again. groaning into his mouth, not bothering to hide your impatience. steve smirks, walking his fingers up toward your hip.

his fingers slip into your carefully chosen panties, choking for air as he pulls back from your lips, ‘holy shit.. you’re soaking,’ still lingering around your aching heat, not doing anything to satisfy the growing wetness.

‘shut up,’ you grumble, pulling him back onto your mouth. rutting your hips to signal how desperate you really are.

he finally gets there, middle and forefinger travelling between your slick folds, rubbing pathetic circles around your clit. you’re grateful for the long awaited release, detaching from his lips to moan.

‘ohh fuck,’ he mutters, feeding off of the delightful sounds coming from your mouth. his cock twitching against your thigh.

‘please,’ you whine, unable to take any more of his incessant teasing. it had gone on for what felt like forever. you blame the various substances for your neediness and the subsequent lack of embarrassment for it.

‘keep begging like that and you can have anything you want,’ rescinding his fingers to tackle his own belt, hastily unbuckling the metal and yanking his suit pants down. boxers coming to rest around his thighs shortly after.

your eyes widen at the sight of his leaking cock springing up. you had felt that he was big but holy shit, this was something else. your surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, his veiny hand fisting his cock as his other hand comes to rest beside your head.

‘i’ll go slow,’ he breathes, eyes hooded as his chestnut eyes gaze into yours. he was used to the apprehension by now. your clammy hands grip onto the back of his neck, feet coming to rest on his lower back. nodding quickly underneath him.

he slides into your cunt achingly slow, his mouth falling open. a strangled sound rumbling from his throat, ‘fuck.. you feel.. so good,’ staying where he was, assessing your reaction before making his next move.

it feels like he’s splitting you open but it’s good. burning desire filling your veins, ‘fuck me..’ you nod, ‘please fuck me,’ becoming accustomed to the feeling of being full, pleading for him to just move.

you don’t have to tell him twice, an animalistic growl escaping as he begins to thrust his hips. he’s still holding back, you can tell but it’s oh so much better than his stagnant pace of before.

your eyes struggle to stay open, eyelids fluttering as he slams into you. hitting the sweet, soft spot you’re sure only he could reach. back arching off of the mattress, sweaty chests colliding, chasing that feeling.

‘oh my god,’ you moan, loud enough for whoever is staying in the adjacent room to hear. it’s filthy, lewd and desperate. the sound of his balls slapping against your supple skin, fastening in response to your encouragement.

‘yeah?’ he pants, reaching his hand around to brush the wild hair from your face. ‘been waiting to do this- nghh.. all fuckin’ day,’ relentless with his tempo, pubic area perfectly catching against your throbbing cult, hurtling you towards your orgasm.

‘fuck,’ you grit, eyes screwed shut. it’s disgusting how the sounds of your cunt fill the room, even worse that it was encouraging him. pounding into your hole ruthlessly, grunting as he nears his own orgasm.

the familiar sensation twists in your stomach, mouth hung open as it’s useless even attempting to muffle yourself. ‘steve..’ you mewl, more as a warning that you were fast approaching your release.

he can feel it, the way you clench around him and the utter mindless babbling coming from your mouth were all too familiar. ‘you gonna come? huh? you wanna come?’ struggling to keep his own composure.

you can’t even verbalise your response, nodding maniacally while your legs squeeze around his waist, keeping him deep inside as you begin to tremble. stomach flipping and your head becoming fuzzy, the tip of his cock nudging against the spongy spot as you come undone around him.

the pleasure is almost overwhelming, tears pricking in your eyes as you writhe against him. ‘shitshitshit,’ whining breathlessly into his ear.

‘oh fuck,’ he barks, beginning to lose his rhythm. hips stuttering as he fills you up, thick ropes of cum painting your walls. pulling out far too late and collapsing on top your sweaty body.

chest rising and falling in time with his as you try to regain your breath, still clinging onto his neck while he buries his face into your shoulder, arms wrapping around your back.

‘oh fuck is right,’ you remark, giggling at his pathetic demeanour. fingers running through his damp hair, his wet lips pressing against the skin of your neck. your mind still too hazy to truly comprehend the implications of him coming inside of you. something for tomorrow you to worry about.

‘i’m sorry,’ he mumbles, cocking his head to finally look up at you, ‘your fault..’ attempting to crack a joke.

‘oh it’s my fault?’

‘oh yeah,’ shifting off of your body and onto the bed slightly, still holding onto your waist. ‘i’d have a baby with you any day,’ wrestling to pull the blanket over your bodies.

you narrow your eyes, resting your head on the soft pillow, choosing to blissfully ignore his comments. the toll of the long day starting to take on your body as your eyes begin to close. snuggling into the side of his body, tangling your leg between his.

‘i wasn’t joking,’ he murmurs sleepily, fingers brushing your back softly.

‘shut up.’

you’re wary of even waking him, wondering if it’d be easier to just slip out unnoticed. maybe you could leave a note on the bedside table for him to find.

no. no, that’d be rude. most one night stands you wouldn’t even be contemplating it, you’d have ran out of there the second you were awake. something felt different with steve.. like maybe you shouldn’t.

you nudge his arm, leaning over his body.

‘steve? steve.. i have to go..’ you coo softly, coaxing him awake.

he jolts, snapping his head in your direction, ‘huh? what?’ squinting as he comes to, head already pounding from the copious amounts of liquor he’d ingested last night.

‘i have to go..’ smiling at his sleepy demeanour.

‘what? no.. no no, where are you going?’ voice heavy with sleep, a whole octave deeper than it was last night.

‘i’ve gotta check out out of my room and drive home.’

he sits up agains the pillow, stretching his arms out with a stifled yawn, ‘now? it’s so early,’ his fingers wrap around your wrist, ‘stay.. ten minutes,’ gently trying to pull you back into the bed with him.

‘it’s a long drive.. i can’t,’ you mutter, standing strong despite the overwhelming urge to just get back into the warm bed with him.

‘let me walk you back then,’ the smooth pad of his thumb tracing along your wrist, ‘gimme like.. five minutes and we can go,’ dropping your arm as he springs out of the bed.

‘you don’t have to.. really,’ you persist, watching as he shimmies into a discarded pair of sweatpants, frantically searching for a clean t-shirt in his suitcase.

‘well i’m going to,’ he pulls it over his messy hair, it had been neglected the last few days and he’d been kicking himself for not looking his best for you.

you simply smile at him, nothing you could say would change his mind so it was easier not to and you weren’t exactly averse to spending more time with him.

he emerges from the bathroom looking slightly more put together, ‘okay i’m ready.. let’s go,’ grabbing his wallet, nearly empty cigarette box and his room key from his discarded pants pocket and grinning.

it’s a comfortable silence on the way back to your room, steve nodding his head at a few wedding guest stragglers who were either doing the exact same thing you were doing or trying to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

the atmosphere is pleasant, almost natural as you walk the halls. arms brushing against each other with every step.

‘well, this is me,’ nodding at the basically untouched hotel room. you’d stepped foot in it once to drop your bag off and hadn’t seen it since.

steve’s biting down onto his bottom lip, ‘you really gotta go now?’ sounding a little disappointed.

‘i’m back to work tomorrow.. i’m sorry,’ trying to disguise your own disappointment. realistically, you probably wouldn’t see him again. just a one time, crazy wedding story you would look back on fondly in a few years.

‘i’m not,’ he offers, trying desperately not to let this go. dating in hawkins wasn’t great, and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever find someone like you even if he searched for his entire life. he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try.

‘oh?’ raising your brows.

‘yanno, i’ve never been to cincinnati before,’ smirking down at you, ‘i was actually thinking of taking a little vacation there.. like, this week?’

the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, ‘you know what? that sounds like a great idea.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington au #stranger things x you #steve harrington fanfic

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supernotnatural2005 · 14 days ago

Text

The Meet Cute

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: 99% of the time drinking leads to nothing but bad decisions and regret in the morning. But, what about the other 1% of the time?

Word count: 1786

Prompt: 'Hugged the wrong person from behind'

AN: Hey guys this is my first submission for @jacklesversebingo 2024 Bingo card. It is my first time doing one of these and I'm super excited to see what my brain comes up with! It's a challenge for sure but I hope you guys can enjoy the ride with me.

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

You winced a little at the burn of the whisky sliding down your throat. It was very much welcomed though, and so were the other two shots you’d done just before.

Not only was it your sister's wedding, but you were her maid of honour and wedding planner. In her defence, it was your profession, so planning and weddings were two things you did well. But the added pressure of it being your baby sister's day and wanting it to be perfect had given you little room to breathe.

Though, once the initial ceremony had ended and you made sure all the guests had arrived and settled in at the afterparty, you finally took a moment to take that breath, aided by the sweet nectar of alcohol. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t your best idea to drink such a strong beverage on an empty stomach, as it wasn’t long until its side effects commandeered your body, mind, and actions.

As you looked around at everyone enjoying themselves on the dance floor, your sister included, it brought a sense of relief and warmth knowing you made her day special. However, there was one face missing, and that was the face of your best friend, Matty. You’d been busy up to your eyeballs all day with arrangements, making sure people arrived on time and showing them where to go; you hadn’t even been able to see him yet, let alone say hello.

You knew his flight this morning was delayed, so he had to miss the ceremony, but he was on schedule to make the party at least. Though even your sister or family hadn’t seen him. The last text he sent was to tell you that he’d landed, and that was nearing 2 hours ago. You deflated at the thought that he might miss this too. Matty was always the life of the party, ever since you’d met him your freshman year of college. Although you didn’t see each other as often as you’d liked, living in different cities and leading busy lives and all, you were always guaranteed a great time when he was around.

However, as you finished your fourth shot, it was then you spotted someone at the other end of the bar. You had to squint a little through your gradually blurring vision, but you were certain it was him. He had his back to you, and he looked a little more built than when you last saw him, but he was already chatting away to some ridiculously handsome, tall guy you didn’t recognise; who was exactly his type, and was easily someone he’d be distracted by.

Pushing aside the fact he hadn’t come to see you first, with giddy excitement you pushed away from the bar, steadying yourself briefly as your head spun a little, but wasted little time as you wonkily made your way towards your best friend.

Foregoing the formalities and for the sudden need to hold onto something, you hugged him tightly from behind. He was definitely firmer than you remembered, and he smelt amazing, but Matty always did.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You sighed happily as you snuggled into his back, the effects of the alcohol well and truly in control. “And when did you get so fit?” You exemplified your point by patting his toned stomach with a giggle.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Your hand paused, and your eyes snapped open at the questioning voice of your best friend. It took you a moment to realise it hadn’t come from the body you were currently clung to, but from your right. Dread suddenly filled you as you slowly turned your head and were met with the amused face of your best friend.

With a gasp, you jumped away from the stranger, losing your footing as you did. Thankfully the stranger grasped your arm before you could go down, not that it would make this situation any less embarrassing if you had. Though what did make it worse was when you finally looked up at said stranger and saw, quite possibly, the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.

He had the most captivating pair of green eyes you’d ever seen and a smattering of freckles covering his nose and cheeks. A stubbled jawline that could cut glass, and he was staring down at you with much of the same amusement your best friend had.

“So, strangers are getting touched up before me now?” Matt teased as he walked over to you, shattering the little staring contest you and green eyes had gotten into. He let go of your arm quickly and took a polite step back at Matt’s presence, and you had to force yourself to look away from him.

Your cheeks reddened at Matty’s remark, and you only wished for the floor to swallow you whole. Matty slung an arm over your shoulder and hugged you to him, which you half returned in your traumatised state.

“I’m honestly so sorry; I’ve had a bit to drink and really thought you were him,” you jab a thumb in Matt’s direction, to which he bursts out laughing.

“If you were really thinking that, then you must be drunk.” He laughs, and you can’t help but join in on the absurdity of the situation along with the other two men.

“Honestly, don’t sweat it; it’s made my night, that’s for sure.” The handsome stranger waves you off with a chuckle, and his voice is deep and husky and does an array of things to you. ‘Seriously Y/N? Get yourself together’.

You smile thankfully at him, relieved he found the funny side of it despite the crippling embarrassment you were currently feeling.

“So, how do you both know the bride?” Matty speaks up, and you want to smack him so hard. You were hoping to make your escape and hide in the restroom for the rest of the night, not prolong your suffering.

“My brother Sammy here works with the groom.” Green eyes pats the tall one on the back, and you note his tight-lipped smile at the obvious nickname. It makes your lips twitch in amusement.

“We’re junior partners at KS Attorney’s.” Sam adds and you nod in acknowledgment.

“And what about you?” You find yourself asking before you could even stop yourself. Green eyes looks at you, his eyes sparkling as a sly smirk lifts his noticeably plump lips. ‘Or did you just notice that? Focus Y/N!’

“Well, I’m just here to crash the wedding." He grins proudly, “Meet a few of the bridesmaids.” He winks at you, and you scoff.

“Well, I don’t mean to burst your bubble,” you pause for him to give you his name, which he supplies with a smirk. “Dean,” you repeat. “But I’m maid of honour, and this is my sister's wedding.” You cross your arms and arch a brow. It makes his cocky attitude drop instantly, and it’s quite amusing to watch him fumble.

“I, you know. I’m just kidding.” He stumbles with a nervous chuckle, and you narrow your eyes playfully at him until you feel you’ve made him uncomfortable enough.

“Don’t worry about it." You concede your teasing with a chuckle. “Weddings are supposed to be fun, right?” You shrug before waving him closer to you like you’re about to tell him a secret. He easily obliges, and you try to ignore the close proximity and the delicious scent of him again before you speak.

“Just watch out for the brunette; she’s a little on the crazy side.” You nod your head over at Tiffany, one of the bridesmaids and he follows your direction to the dance floor. She was in your sister's circle of friends, but she was well-known for being a little clingy with men.

You’d heard she’d burnt her last boyfriend's clothes when he didn’t return her calls for a few hours, convinced he was cheating on her. He wasn’t. He was visiting his sick grandmother, something he’d told her the night before.

“Noted.” Dean nods seriously as you pull back and looks away thoughtfully, as if he were thinking of something important before his eyes snap to you again. “What about the maid of honour? Is she game?” Your heart flutters a little at the smoothness of his implication, and you can’t stop your shy smile. You had to look away from him, and it was then you noticed the other two were missing. You frown and look around before you spot Matty and Sam further down the bar with a beer each. Matty catches your eye and winks at you before pointing at you and then Dean and making a vulgar gesture with his hand and mouth. You roll your eyes before you look back at Dean.

“I see we’ve been ditched.” You scoff humorously and Dean’s smirk wideness.

“And you haven’t answered my question.” He points out cooly and leans against the bartop; his stare intense, making you squirm a little. Men at this magnitude of hotness never hit on you, and if it wasn’t for the alcohol still running through your veins, you’re certain you would have malfunctioned by now.

“She is not.” You decide to lie and bite your lip as you too lean against the bar. Dean’s brow raises as if he were surprised by your admission, and you try not to look him in the eye too much.

“Oh really? And who’s the lucky guy?” You try to fight your smile, and the blush you’re certain is already staining your cheeks. Instead of answering, your eyes subtly flicker over to Matty, and Dean’s smile broadens, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“You and him?” He nods his head back in their direction, and you shrug with a confident smile, which soon falters when he leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Sweetheart, if that were true, I’d hate to be the one to tell you that your boyfriend is currently flirting up a storm with my brother.”

He pulls back with a cocky smirk, and you can’t contain yourself much longer. Laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably because it’s true. You and Dean both watch as an uncomfortable Sam tries to dodge Matty’s obvious advances with tears in your eyes.

“We should probably go save him. Matty’s nothing if not persistent.” You breathe out, still trying to calm yourself as you wipe gently at your under-eyes.

"Nah, Sammy’s a big boy; he can fend for himself.” Dean shrugs off with a smile. "Besides, you still have a question to answer and no more B.S.” He points at you half serious, and you can’t find it in you to lie this time.

AN: There you go guys, my first bingo square complete. Let me know what you guys think. Also I am open to maybe expanding on this story, like a prequel and maybe another chapter... Let me know if you'd be interested to see more of this.

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f444wning · 3 months ago

Text

The Plug (1/?)

Summary: Wanting to make a name for yourself, you find yourself in modern day King's Landing. Dealing with the weight of expectations, you find an unlikely connection.

Warnings: Drug/alcohol use (underaged and not), eventual smut, curse words. 18+

Note: Okay it took me a little longer than expected but here it is!

WC: 4.2k

"Virtue has a veil, vice a mask." - Victor Hugo

You always had big dreams, desiring an independent life. One that left you free to do whatever you wanted. While your parents were well-off and influential, you didn’t want to use their money to get you anywhere because you wanted to work for it yourself. “Stubborn girl,” they’d lovingly call you; they wanted to help you and see you succeed. While they knew you were smart and felt you were capable of anything, they believed it wouldn’t hurt to use their privilege to give you a hand. You always refused but understood their stance. You felt they did enough for you growing up—putting you in the best schools in the city, supporting whatever extracurricular activities you took interest in (mostly volleyball), and generally spoiling you whenever they could. Rumor had it they even paid the school to overlook any trouble you got into throughout high school.

You weren’t the biggest troublemaker, but you weren’t a goody-two-shoes either. You got good grades when you tried, but occasionally cheated on tests when you got too high on edibles or drunk on whisky that you’d stolen out of your dad’s cabinet that week to be bothered with studying. A bit of a party girl, one time taking a random pill given to you by a classmate that turned out to be Xanax. Afterward, you felt stupid for doing such a thing and vowed never to do it again. You knew how dangerously close you came to beginning a downward spiral. Your parents didn’t suspect your habits as you kept them well hidden, not wanting to ruin the idea of their perfect only child.

Well, to a degree. When the teachers busted you for cheating, they kept silent after contacting your parents, and it never escalated. Deep down, you knew what happened and felt guilty that it was most likely your parents’ money that kept you in that school; not everyone was so lucky. It was never enough to completely stop the habits, however. As an adult, while you were slightly more responsible, you still gripped to your vices as a baby grips their bottle. It wasn’t that you had a particularly hard life; you just found yourself wanting to escape from the pressures that came with expectations.

Having such supportive family and friends, you got through school and decided to jump into the working field, excited to move on to the next chapter of your life, wanting to prove to yourself that you weren’t a lost cause. Unfortunately for the past few years since then, the search was unfruitful. As you sat on the end of your bed, laptop in front of you, you clicked on the icon for your email to see if any jobs that you’d applied to had written you back. It seemed like a dud until you scrolled down a bit further, noticing you missed one from the large fashion magazine Gevives.

You had applied for a paid internship because you were always interested in the fashion industry and daydreamed about working your way up as a big-time writer. In slight disbelief, you opened the email to see that they were interested in you working for them and would like you to come by for an interview. Your mind raced in excitement for a few moments as you read the email until your stomach dropped when you saw at the bottom of the page that the location they wanted you to intern for was King’s Landing.

It was 5 hours away from Riverrun, your home. It had been your home since you were a child. It’s where you were born and raised, spending your childhood weekends at the country club your parents attended where you first acquired your love for volleyball. It held so many memories, like your first kiss, drunk in the closet playing 7 minutes in heaven with a boy from your grade after sneaking out to a friend’s house on a weekday, knowing your parents would kill you if they found out.

This was where you were comfortable; you didn’t know anyone in King’s Landing, you’d never even visited. You only ever heard things about it from acquaintances. Nothing too substantial, just that it was bigger with more shops and things to do. While that sounded wonderful, you knew you’d miss the nature and serenity that came with your smaller town. You loved it, and all the friends you grew up with as well as your family lived there. However, you knew jobs weren’t as easy to come by here as in the bigger cities, it was hard to make a good living. Your parents had driven at least an hour away for their jobs. You sat there staring at the screen for a few minutes, turning over the thoughts in your head before coming to a conclusion.

This was it. Deciding you couldn’t let fear get in the way of such a big opportunity, you sighed, hitting “reply,” and wrote back that you were still interested and would love to have the interview. While you knew they’d be sad that you were leaving, you also knew everyone would ultimately understand. Besides, it couldn’t be so bad, right? You’d finally have the opportunity to meet new people, experience new things. You’d finally get the chance to do something you’d only dreamed of. You figured you’d be a fool to pass it up. Besides, you heard they had better weed there. Closing your laptop, you lay down and texted your best friend, Abby Tully.

Y: Abbs, guess what!

A: What???

Y: I might have an interview with Gevives magazine

A: Omggg no freaking way, the internship?

Let’s talk about it over some cocktails on me this Friday, be there or be square

Y: Would rather die than miss it, babe

You set your phone down and snuggled under the covers, the soft fabric against your skin providing some comfort as your mind swirled with conflicting thoughts and emotions before sleep finally took over your body.

The next day you woke up to your alarm clock going off. 8 a.m. You groaned as your eyes adjusted to the sun beaming through your window, getting up to prepare for your day. Standing in front of the mirror in your room, you thought about how you were going to tell your parents, but you knew deep down they’d be proud of you. The day went by uneventfully, besides breaking the news to them, and they reacted just how you’d expected.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was your mother crying as you sat at the dinner table that evening. It was obviously a mix of both happy and sad tears. My little girl is growing up so fast, she thought. They knew the day would come, but it wasn’t going to lessen the impact of empty nest syndrome and having no siblings to soften the blow. Your dad offered to pay the first few months rent for a flat while you got on your feet, which you begrudgingly accepted. You truly didn’t want to, but you had no other choice. It’s not like you had any money to pay for a place to stay yourself. Not yet, and you couldn’t wait to change that.

The weekend rolled around, and you met up with Abby and her twin, Oscar, at the local pub. You were close with Oscar as well, the three of you being the same age and growing up on the playgrounds together, followed by the parties you’d all sneaked out to in teenage adventures that ensured you stayed glued to one another. You sat across from them, a cocktail in hand as you explained the email you’d gotten and how you’d be moving away.

“Girl, I’m so happy for you! But you better not forget about us.” Abby warned, jokingly pointing a finger at you.

Oscar nodded, “Yeah, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do while you’re there. We can’t chaperone you from here.” He laughed.

“Of course not,” you said with a cheeky smile, “and if you’re really worried, you guys are welcome to come babysit me whenever you like. I’ll have my own flat.” You winked at them.

Oscar and Abby groaned in unison, “Even worse!” Abby said with a grin.

“Look, I’m not the one who puked in the Lannister’s yard on summer break for drinking too much.” You said, raising your eyebrow and shooting a pointed look at Oscar.

He raised his hands in feigned offense, “Not everyone could make it past the driveway like you!” You all laughed. The conversation continued until late into the night as you three reminisced about all the memories you’ve had with each other. You all ended up getting decently tipsy by the end of it, and you decided to call it a night. Oscar called their older brother Kermit to drive you all home, dropping you off first. The twins got out of the car to hug you and wish you well, and even Kermit, who you had hardly spoken to despite being close with his siblings, wished you good luck before they drove off. You tried to quietly stumble your way up to your room. You could tell they were trying to hide their sadness, so you vowed you’d see them again as soon as possible.

Monday rolled around, and you knew you were going to have a busy day. Your interview was today, and you also had to go flat shopping with your parents. You got up at 4 a.m. to make sure you had enough time to make yourself look put together and get an Uber to King’s Landing before the interview. As the car began to drive through the city, you couldn’t help but stare out the window as the scenery changed. There were tall buildings and lots of people walking on the street, the city buzzing with activity. You noticed it was noisier as well. As the driver pulled up to the building located at the address you were given, it stood as possibly one of the tallest ones you’d seen. You looked up at it with slight awe. With a shake of your head to gather your courage, you headed up to the front desk to let them know you had arrived.

You feel like the interview went well enough as you watch the elevator buttons light up as it takes you back down to the bottom floor with a quiet “ding.” You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to living here, though. It feels so foreign compared to what you’re used to, and you feel a bit out of place. Chalking it up to bad nerves as you’re greeted with the bustle of the city, you walked away feeling a mix of relief and optimism. The energy of King’s Landing seemed to pulse with new possibilities.

Later, as you and your parents wandered through the vibrant neighborhoods, each corner of the city revealed something new: sleek cafés, trendy boutiques, and busy market streets. The search for a flat was exhausting, the sheer number of choices overwhelming. But amidst the confusion, a spark of excitement kept you moving forward. When you finally settled on a flat—a cozy space with large windows that overlooked a quaint park—you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something significant.

The property manager told you that you could move in the next day, which ended up working out perfectly as you got a call back a few hours after your interview to let you know you’d been accepted. They asked you to start next Monday and you agreed. Once you were back in Riverrun, you texted Abby and Oscar with updates on the interview and the flat-hunting adventure. They promised once summer break hits, they’d come and visit you.

Staying up late to pack your things, you struggled to get up the next morning. Still, you got up and freshened up before taking your luggage out to your dad’s car. He shook his head, smiling at you struggling to carry your bags and grabbed them from you, placing them in the trunk and closing it. As he drove you to your new home, you two talked about your future and he expressed how much everyone was going to miss you, but that he was proud of you. He reassured you that they’d be alright and made you promise him that you’d stay safe and give them a call if you ever needed anything.

When you got to your new home, he helped you carry your bags up to your flat and you couldn’t help but look around it in disbelief. This was really yours. Your little corner in the city, home away from home. You beamed up at him as you thanked him, he hugged you in response before planting a kiss on your forehead and saying his goodbyes before heading back to Riverrun. You’d have to remember to call your parents soon to keep them from worrying themselves to death, you figure.

You unpack your bags the rest of the day. Thankfully some movers had brought furniture up to your flat earlier that day, so it was fully furnished and before you knew it you were finally settled in. The stress of the day hit you, and you felt the need to use something to relax. Reaching into your kitchen cabinet you thanked yourself for remembering to bring a few bottles of wine with you and you drank them as your music filled the air and you danced around your new living room before passing out on the couch.

The sun streamed through the large windows of your new flat as you slowly woke up on your first full day in King’s Landing. The faint hum of city life below was a stark contrast to the quiet of Riverrun. Stretching and yawning, you reluctantly got up from the couch, where you’d spent the night amidst a mess of packing materials and empty wine bottles. Head slightly hurting, you popped a few pills.

After a quick shower and a hasty breakfast of cereal, you cleaned up before deciding to take a walk and explore your new neighborhood. You wandered through tree-lined streets and bustling avenues, taking in the lively atmosphere and the mix of modern and historic architecture. As you strolled, you marveled at the array of shops, restaurants, and cafés. The sheer diversity of the city was exhilarating, but you still felt a pang of homesickness.

You found yourself at a charming little café with an outdoor seating area. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted through the air, tempting you to step inside. You ordered a latte and a croissant, settling into a corner table with a view of the street. The café was quaint, with potted plants hanging from the walls and soft indie music playing in the background. It seemed like the perfect place to meet new people.

As you sipped your latte and skimmed through a local magazine, a young woman sat down at the table next to you. She was absorbed in her phone but glanced over at you occasionally, seemingly intrigued. After a few minutes, she put her phone down and gave you a friendly smile.

“Hi there,” she said, her voice warm. “I’m Sara. I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new here?”

You returned her smile, feeling a bit relieved to meet someone so approachable. “I’m Y/N. Yeah, I just moved here a couple of days ago. I’m starting an internship at Gevives magazine.”

Sara’s eyes lit up. “Gevives? That’s so cool! I actually know a few people who work there. What’s your position?”

“Intern,” you replied. “It’s my first big opportunity, so I’m really excited, but also a bit overwhelmed. This city is so different from what I’m used to.”

“Yeah, King’s Landing can be a bit intense at first,” Sara agreed sympathetically, nodding. “But you’ll get the hang of it. If you need any tips or just someone to show you around, I’d be happy to help. I’m a graphic designer here and I know a few great spots.”

“That would be amazing, actually,” you said, feeling grateful. “I’ve been feeling a bit out of place.”

“Great!” Sara said, finishing her coffee. “How about we meet up this weekend? I can take you to some cool places and we can grab lunch.”

“I’d love that,” you said, feeling a genuine sense of relief. “Thanks so much.”

As you both finished your coffee, Sara started talking about some of her favorite places in the city. You found yourself genuinely enjoying the conversation, feeling more at ease. Before you knew it, she had to leave for an appointment, but not before giving you her number.

“Here’s my number,” she said, writing it down on a napkin. “Text me and we’ll set something up for the weekend. Oh, and if you’re looking for a recommendation for some good weed—I’ve got a guy. His name’s Aegon. He’s reliable and knows his stuff. Just let me know if you need his number.”

You were taken aback by the sudden offer but quickly appreciated her candor. “Thanks, I might take you up on that.” You smiled.

Sara laughed. “No problem! I’ll text you his number later today. Enjoy the rest of your day exploring the city!”

As she left, you felt a renewed sense of optimism. The move still felt overwhelming, but meeting someone so friendly and open was a huge boost. You spent the rest of the day wandering around, taking in the sights and sounds of King’s Landing with a bit more confidence.

Later that evening, as you sat on the couch in your flat watching TV, your phone buzzed with a text from Sara. Attached was a number with a brief message:

S: “Hey! Here’s Aegon’s number: 555-789-1234. He’s great—let him know I sent you. Hope the city’s treating you well!”

You saved the number, feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation. With a smile, you picked up a wine bottle you had left out, poured yourself a glass, and sat back on the couch, already feeling a little more at home. Deciding to waste no time, you pull your phone out and shoot a text to Aegon.

Y: Heyy I’m y/n, Sara gave me your number

A: can I call?

Y: Uhhh yeah sure

Almost as soon as you responded your phone rang, “the plug” lighting up the screen. You giggled to yourself at the name you assigned him and picked up. You could hear people talking and music playing in the background before he spoke.

“Why hello. What can I do for ya sweetie?” His raspy voice rang. Oh great, a flirt.

“Hi, I just moved to King’s Landing and I’m looking for something to help me chill out. Sara mentioned you might be able to help with that.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky you got my number?” You could tell he was smirking, even over the phone. “I’ve got just the thing you need. What’s your vibe—something to mellow out after a long day or something to keep you buzzing?”

“I’m looking for something to help me unwind,” you said, honestly starting to feel a bit flustered by his tone. “It’s been a bit overwhelming with the move.”

“Ah, gotcha. I’ve got the perfect strain for that,” Aegon said smoothly. “How about we meet up around 8? I can make sure you’re well taken care of. My place isn’t anything fancy, but it’s got a cozy vibe. It’ll be a lot of fun.”

“That sounds good,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the address in a minute. It’s at my place,” Aegon said with a chuckle. “And just so you know, I’ve got a pretty good setup. You might even say I’ve got a knack for making new friends feel right at home.”

A few hours later, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness as you made your way to his place. You arrived at the address Aegon had sent, a slightly worn but lively building with other frat-type houses nearby. The bass from inside thumped so loudly you could feel it through the floor. When you buzzed the door, it swung open to reveal Aegon, his white hair a tousled mess and a grin on his face. He gave you a quick glance up and down before speaking.

“Hey there! You made it!” Aegon greeted you with an exaggerated enthusiasm that made you smile. “Come on in, gorgeous. Let me show you around.”

You stepped inside, greeted by the lively energy of the party. The flat was decorated with posters, random string lights, and a collection of beer bottles that had taken on a life of their own. Aegon led you through the living room, where people were lounging and chatting. Smoke and music filled the air as you looked around, trying to ease your nerves.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Aegon said, guiding you to a spot on the couch. “I’ll get us something to drink.”

As he grabbed a beer for you from the fridge, you took in his appearance, noting that despite being a bit disheveled looking, you find he’s actually quite attractive. He returned with the beer and a small bag of weed, sitting down next to you as he began to roll with practiced ease.

“So, you’re new in town, huh?” Aegon said, flashing you a cheeky grin as he worked. “I have to say, it’s nice meeting a pretty little thing like you. Y’know, I could show you around and help you find the best spots in the city.”

You laughed, the beer you started drinking you started feeling more at ease. “I’m looking forward to it. This is actually my first time hanging out with someone from here.”

“Well, I’m glad to be your first,” Aegon said with a wink. “Here’s to new adventures and new friends. And who knows, maybe this is the start of something even more exciting.”

He finished rolling the joint and handed it to you with a mischievous smile, his violet eyes watching you intensely. “Let’s make sure your time here is one to remember. Sara has great taste, and I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy yourself.”

You feel your cheeks warm. You wonder if it’s just the alcohol starting to make you feel flustered.

“I sure hope so. I left a lot behind to be here, I might as well enjoy it.” You replied, taking the joint from him and taking a long inhale from it, feeling your lungs burn a little.

He raised an eyebrow as you passed it back to him, “Don’t tell me you have a husband and 5 kids back at home?”

You laughed as you felt the joint making you a little lightheaded. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve partaken and the rumors seem to be true, this weed is definitely better.

“Hell no! Just my parents. Some friends. Riverrun is all I really know.” You said, absentmindedly running your fingers over your beer bottle in your hand. You didn’t expect to be here, in a drug dealer’s flat beginning to tell him your life story on your first day in the city but here you are.

“That was a close one.” He said in feigned relief, taking another drag from the joint and handing it back to you, eyes twinkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Sounds like you’re a long way from home,” he said, leaning back against the armrest and observing you with a relaxed demeanor. “So why did you come here? If I may ask.”

You pause and take what you deicide is your last hit, feeling the effects rush through you as you move to hand it back and he shakes his head. You put it out in the ash tray and grab the baggie to put it in, dropping it in your purse. “To prove myself. My parents worked hard to have as much as they do, and all I did was fuck off. I’m here to pave my own way.” You say, laying your head back on the back of couch and looking up at the ceiling. You smiled to yourself in amusement at the fact this was starting to feel like a fucked up therapy session.

You heard him laugh in a way that reminded you of a hyena before responding, “I can relate. Cheers to that.” He says as he lifts his beer up and you do the same, tapping it with your own.

As the night wore on, you found yourself opening up to Aegon, feeling surprisingly comfortable despite the circumstances. He listened with genuine interest, his violet eyes reflecting curiosity and amusement.

Figuring it’s about time you head home and enjoy your high in peace, you pull out your phone to order an uber. “I’m about to head home, thanks for the weed. You really helped a girl out.” You say as you turn your head to him. He’s still looking at you with those soft violet eyes as he’s leaning back against the couch, and you wonder if he ever stopped.

He smirks. “Of course, and don’t worry about payment this time.” As you prepared to head home, Aegon handed you another baggie of weed with a wink. “Consider it a welcome gift.”

Tag list: @p45510n4f4shi0n, @lysenni, @malfoycassimalfoy

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #king aegon #modern aegon

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violetpixiedust · 1 month ago

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thinking about angry stepdad!rafey who needs someone to keep him in line wether he likes it or not. ;_;

18+. afab reader. no description of appearance. smut. stepcest. stepdad!rafe. sub!rafe. kind of mean!reader. rafe cameron has a foot kink. foot!job. hints of pet play?? like very low key. kook!reader, but kind of early 2000’s core. rafe is early 40s. reader is 18.

the small pink radio on your bedside table played your favourite station, sat beneath one of your two hot pink lampshades. it was nearing 7:00pm, and you were getting ready to meet your friends at the boneyard for a party. the approaching summer heat filtered in through the open windows, your tulle curtains occasionally swaying with a fresh spring breeze that reminded you of approaching summer vacations of the past. now, you were trying your best to think of anything but graduation.

puckering your pouty lips, you swiped on your favourite lipgloss, admiring your done up reflection in your little hand mirror- before catching sight of your stepfather in the doorway behind you. a sharp gasp left your lips, snapping your compact closed before whipping your head in the smirking man’s direction. “aren’t you a little too young to already be showing signs of dementia?”

a wicked smirk glinted across your sticky mouth at the way rafe’s cobalt eyes rolled bitterly. his pink, slightly chapped lips formed themselves into a firm line before enveloping the rim of his glass, downing the bronze liquid without breaking eye-contact. you raised a careful brow. “just because the door is open, doesn’t mean you need to come in. free will works both ways you know.” reopening your compact, you began double checking for any imperfections. as usual, you found none.

a scoff echoed alongside you, not swaying you in the slightest. even when rafe’s tone held more than it’s usual distain. “you know why i’m drinking this shitty whisky?”

“don’t care.”

“hey.” your stepfather slammed his crystal glass atop your bookshelf with a sharp thud, storming up to your four post bed in record speed before trapping your wrists within his large hands. your compact fell atop your pink sheets, bouncing away from you two as rafe wrestled you to lay back along your bed. you didn’t even fight it, only challenging him with a nasty glare that rivalled his own. god, it was like you weren’t even your mother’s daughter, rafe thought. his wife was far too meek to ever be able to discipline you, let alone deal with the monster she had created in neglecting to do so. “cut the attitude. i’m-i’m drinkin’ this dog shit whisky because someone replaced my expensive stuff with it, thinkin’ i wouldn’t notice.”

a humourless chuckle left your lips, your sultry smile only widening when rafe’s grip tightened. his gold signet ring threatening to leave a brand. “think you’ve had too many bumps of blow, daddy.” the bulging vein in the blonde’s neck jumped in surprise. his angry expression faltering for just a second before hardening once more. you still caught the twitch in his brow, the purse of his lips, the widening of his pupils. you weren’t supposed to know about the coke. you also weren’t supposed to be going through his office when he and your mother were at the country club- and you sure as hell weren’t supposed to be drinking the last of his expensive whisky. one that was now in a silver flask, hidden within the fluff of your teddy bear that was sat on top of the chair in the corner of your room. “y’know how coke dick can make men act. forgetful and neglectful.” you shrugged your bare shoulders, the soft mounds of your breasts pushing themselves up in your thin tank top with how rafe dug your manicured hands further into your own chest.

the man opposite to you threw you back against your bed carelessly before he let you go, cobalt blue beaming down on you from where he stood. he panted as if he had just run a marathon, eyes wild and unsure of where to look next. meanwhile, you laid back along your elbows, cool and collected as the hem of your matching pyjama shorts fluttered upwards in his eye-line teasingly. rafe breathed in through his nose angrily, stating lowly. “you tell your mother anything, and i’ll-“

“but we don’t have to do that. do we, daddy?” rafe could feel every last bit of dignity in his brain melting away at that fucking name that left your lips. spoken in that saccharine tone of voice you reserved for him and him only. daddy, i need a ride. daddy, tell mom to stop being so mean to me. can i have a hug goodnight, daddy? daddy, there’s this new purse i want- no matter how much you made him want to pull his own teeth out, he could never say no to you, and you knew that. “noo. i don’t think so.” a soft giggle left your glossy lips at the way your stepfather’s mouth fell agape, his anger quickly fizzling into arousal.

you knew how pent up he was, he practically wore it on his sleeve. it was a wonder your mother had even bagged a man like rafe. successful, gorgeous, rich, tasteful. you figured it was because of how spineless she was. obeying to his every whim. following him around the outer banks like a lapdog. gushing to anyone who would listen that ‘the rafe cameron’ was hers. she allowed him to act like the man of the house- all while he stomped around with his jaw clenched like a child. the elder woman followed every one of his orders. making him a plate every night even if most nights it went cold. pouring him a glass of whisky, even before she left to converse with the real housewives of outer banks at the country club. a glass of whisky she wasn’t aware was worth less than $50.00 and had been stolen from a bar on the cut. the only thing she wouldn’t give him is what he really wanted. a challenge. not to mention the right touch. wrapped in a pretty little bow that would be both the cause and relief of all his stress and troubles. a sense of relief more medicinal than any line of the purest coke. “it doesn’t look like you dipped into that supply tonight, ray.”

your manicured toes that were decorated with a sultry shade of red trailed up the inner hem of rafe’s designer trousers. the blonde man’s eyes fluttered shut, hips twitching forwards unconsciously when the tips of your toes grazed his inner thigh. a choked gasp left the elder man when the ball of your foot pressed against his erection, his hands just catching your ankle before you promptly pulled it away. rafe’s eyes shot open, about to speak before you pointed your foot down towards your hardwood floor. “knees.”

rafe struggled with himself for a moment, physically at odds. he could cuss you out and leave. maybe go to the country club for some proper whisky, and blow off some steam with topper..

his knees bent at their own will, cracking before allowing the man to settle on his calves in front of you. a smile drew itself onto your lips, a sweet one that outweighed the corruption within your expression. the cameron man felt his blood turn gelatinous, rushing like syrup to the head of his cock that pressed painfully against the italian zipper of his pants. “that’s it.” you cooed at his submission. a shaky breath left rafe’s bitten lips, leaving his mouth agape when the ball of your left foot stroked his manhood up and down at a gentle pace. a deep groan left the blonde, throwing his head back as his hips moved in tandem with your strokes. “d’you like that, baby?”

rafe choked out another moan, realizing he liked being called ‘baby’ almost as much as he liked being called ‘daddy’. “y-yes. holy shit.” you could feel yourself dripping within your panties at the sight of the most powerful man in the outer banks humping your foot like a bitch in heat.

“unbutton your shirt for me, puppy. you’re all rosy.” rafe swallowed heavily at your patronizing tone, heart pounding in his ears while he practically ripped off the buttons on his dress shirt, leaving him in an ivory wife beater. the deft tips of his fingers raced down to the closure of his pants next, but you stopped him instantly. “uh-uh. what did i say?”

rafe groaned in frustration, unable to ignore the feeling of the beads of sweat at his temples, the crook of his neck, beneath the thick material of his pants. he was so overstimulated, so hot. he just wanted to come. that’s all he’s wanted to do for the past two weeks. every time he was either interrupted by your mother, an associate, or so on. this was the first time you were helping him out, instead of making him jerk off in front of you like you had two weeks ago during his morning shower. his obsession with you had worsened tenfold since that day. he needed you like he needed air to breathe. “please.” rafe buried his head into your bare thighs, placing open mouthed kisses along the smooth and vanilla scented skin, leaving streaks of drool behind. he didn’t care how pathetic he looked. he couldn’t. the only thing on his mind being sweet release. “please. i-i- i need to feel you s’bad, please.”

you watched in fascination at the scene unfolding in front of you. the tight knots of your stepfather unravelling with every hit of pleasure you gave him. he was so pathetic it made your heart race. not to mention your pussy throb.

god, he was so beautiful like this.

“shhh, you’re okay.” full body shudders prompted rafe’s back to twitch, each prominent muscle leaping beneath the taught wife beater he wore. you let your matching manicured nails rake over his shaved head, the once dominant man resting his forehead back on your lap obediently. he felt fuzzy with pleasure, so unbelievably turned on that he couldn’t think straight. he hadn’t felt like this in years. rafe wound his strong arms around your calf at the feeling of your toes pulling down his pants zipper, his own heavy breathing being the only thing he could focus on. the eldest cameron choked, lifting his cloudy gaze up towards you as your pointed toes dipped into his pants, only the layer of his thin underwear separating your skin. you could feel the warm pre-cum that seeped through the material onto your foot, sticky and wet. you let your soft hand cup his clammy stubble, thumb grazing his cheekbone as he leant into your touch. “thrust.”

you didn’t have to tell rafe twice. the man snapped into action, abusing the ball of your foot with the sheer greed of his thrusts. his eyes were nearly black, pupils taking over the now dusky blue of his irises. you hummed in contentment from your place on top of your sheets, catching his attention immediately with the way your soft hand left his head to dip into the waistband of your dainty shorts.

rafe’s entire body felt like it was on fire, desperately chasing his orgasm as best he could despite the sharp ache in his knees. only that didn’t matter, the once strict business man was too focused on his stepdaughter’s fingers that were suddenly shiny with her tangy slick. “open up, handsome.” your sweetness bursting along his tastebuds was the final push rafe needed, groaning around your fingers as thick ropes of hot sticky cum filled the front of his boxers. his brain whited out, eyes rolling to the back of his head while his muscular body convulsed, shakily riding out the last of his orgasm.

you gently pulled your foot out of his trousers once you were sure he was finished, relishing in the soft whine that emitted from him after you scratched behind his ears soothingly. “that’s a good boy, hm?”

rafe’s hips tiredly nudged against your foot once more at that, making you laugh.

#this is my first time writing for rafey sorry if its ooc #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron smut #step dad!rafe #sub!rafe #daddy!rafe cameron #kook!reader #older!rafe #older!rafe cameron #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

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wisedelusionalmarshmallow · 4 months ago

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@rosekillermicrofic, July 30th - Eyeliner, T, Word Count - 442

CW: underage drinking

Evan wasn’t big on parties. He would make an appearance, have a few drinks, then call it a night. You wouldn’t find him on the dance floor or with a partner upstairs; he would just stumble back to his dorm, slightly tipsy and exhausted.

Of course, all his friends had other ideas. Which is why he's sat himself on a couch in the common room, waiting.

After a good twenty minutes of waiting for them to show up, Evan decided to call it a night. He’s already had a White Rat whisky shot and was roped into trying some berry-flavored cocktails; all he wants to do is go to his dorm and sleep.

He places the glass down on the table and stands up from the couch he settled himself on for the night.

Then he falls right back down because he spots Barty.

Barty, his best friend, his ride or die, his long-time crush, was hot already. In the school uniform, out of the school uniform. When he looked half-asleep or when he was hyped on caffeine.

But Merlin must be tempting him tonight. Trying to give Evan a damn heart attack because in strolls Barty, looking like a dream.

He was wearing mesh– mesh and, wait, is that body glitter? Oh, fucking hell. And he’s already sweaty with how hot the common room is, and he’s walking straight over to the couch. Is that a belly button piercing? When the hell did he get that done? His nails are painted, and none of them have chipped yet. And oh. Eyeliner.

Barty. Was. Wearing. Eyeliner.

Evan snapped out of his trance, realizing that Barty was now right in front of him. He’d been staring for so long that he forgot that he was moving. Barty probably watched as Evan nearly drooled as he made his way towards him.

“Hey Rosie,” Barty smiles. Merlin, is that lip gloss too?

It was like everything had stopped working in Evan’s head. He couldn’t help it, though, not when Barty looked that good. Wait, how long has he been staring? Shit, he needs to respond. Uh um.

“Hot,” he breathes. “Wait, uh, hi, um. You look hot. Not just the word. Um.”

Barty smirks at Evan’s stuttering. “I saw you were getting a little bored. Mind if I join you?”

Getting up from the couch once more, Evan wipes his sweaty palms on his pants. “Yes. And by that, I mean, no. Like, I don’t mind—”

“Let’s save the words for after,” Barty teases, placing his hand on the small of Evan’s back as they head to the dance floor.

Nodding, Evan agrees. “Good idea.”

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #microfic #july 2024 #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #the slytherin skittles #eyeliner #marauders

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milliesfishes · 4 months ago

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I adore you both @francixoxoxo @lopsnpops ౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly when you're drunk౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Maybe it had been a mistake to bring you out to one of the wild parties the Regulators threw every fortnight or so, but Billy hardly regretted it now.

Under the winking stars you were as lovely as ever, hair unwoven from your rope of a braid, eyes sparkling as the lake did when the sun's rays hit it exactly right. He wound an arm loosely around your waist, simply enjoying the angelic sight of you. The colossal bonfire gave you a halo that only further encouraged your paradisical image.

You were literature to him, practically the Bible. A book he could pore over time and time again and find something new with every page. And indeed, he read your verses like a devoted saint.

As you accepted a drink from one of his men, saying something that made him laugh, Billy pressed a kiss to your hair. It was hard to forget how charming you were. How lovable his girl was in every sense of the term. You were a siren's song, a call he would answer every time. Your laugh was a sound tuned to his senses, an aphrodisiac he couldn't help but breathe in.

The night morphed into a cacophony of music and the laughter of men, smoke from the fire drifting through the camp and tickling the noses of everyone present. Women both hired and invited hung off the arms of Regulators, both feasting on the mystery of the night and allowing it to overcome them.

Billy hadn't noticed exactly how much whiskey you'd indulged in until he heard your ringing laughter echoing over the content buzz of the partygoers. Turning his head from a lulling conversation, he saw you across the fire, giggling delightedly at something of which he was unsure of the context.

He knew he should feel concerned at your drunken state, but truthfully, as he made his way over, grass crunching under his boots, all he could think about was how adorable you were.

"Havin' a good time, darlin'?" he teased good-naturedly, approaching you with a steady grin.

You turned around and saw who he was, face immediately splitting into a smile that seemed to glow in the dark. "Billy!" Throwing your arms around him, you buried your face in his neck. "BillyBillyBilly. I love you, did you know that?"

Chuckling, he indulged you, arms securing you against him. His name in your mouth was a hymn he wasn't sure he'd find in any chapel. Divinity was his best description of you, and its lack of earthly context made it all the more fitting. Even with alcohol on your breath, you were heaven sent.

"I'll never complain 'bout you remindin' me, baby," he said, kissing your nose gently. As he did, your eyes lit as something that struck him like lightning.

You stood on your tiptoes, bouncing up and down on your heels. "I love you!" Reaching up as high as you could, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a darling show of affection.

"How many whiskies didja have, pretty girl?" Billy tilted your chin up with his fingers, examining your eyes. "You're walkin' in wavy lines darlin'."

"Oh..." you furrowed your brow into an adorable crease as you thought. The amount of contemplation it was taking to recall it lifted the corners of his lips like a sunrise. "Three maybe?"

"You're a lightweight if there ever was one, sweetheart," he laughed, keeping his hold tight on your waist as you leaned back in his arms, head lulling so you could look at the moon. "Think it might be time to go home."

You frowned, pouting slightly in that way he couldn't help but adore. Billy was utterly helpless to finding anything you did endearing. He was up to his elbows holding you by your waist, knowing that if he let go you'd fall backwards. "But I still wanna talk to more people. And watch the stars. And get another drink-"

"Woah, woah, baby doll," he countered, shaking his head and breathing a laugh. "You ain't gettin' any more drinks. We're gonna go home so you can sleep this all off."

Lower lip pushing out, you shook your head. "But...but I wanna..." you let go of him and attempted to take a step, but your knees began to give out.

Swiftly, he caught you, hoisting you up by your waist and prompting you to wrap your legs around him. "Alright...c'mere angel baby, up y' go..." The surrounding party was too lost in the splendor of drink and company to pay you any mind. "You're trouble tonight, sweetheart."

He managed to balance you on his horse and get you home, skillfully opening the door with his foot while carrying you. You babbled sentences he couldn't determine the meaning of, but he still listened, nodding attentively. "Mhm. You're right my love."

Laying you down in bed, he attempted to detangle himself from you in order to find some water to quell the alcohol in your system. You frowned and tugged on his arm, shaking your head persistently. "No, don't leave."

"Just gettin' ya some water, honey," he tried, but you held fast.

The image of you this clingy and wanting for his mere presence was more valuable to him than any jewel he had thought so previously. Every single adjective for beautiful ran through his head as he looked at you, your hair spread over the pillow, dress hiked up to your thighs. He was lost in you for a moment.

Oh who was he kidding? Billy couldn't refuse you a single thing. He knelt and worked his boots off, stowing them beneath the bed and loosening the handkerchief around his neck. Untying it and folding it on the nightstand, Billy settled on the bed, tucking you under his arm and nuzzling his chin in your hair. He dropped his lips to your head, thumb rubbing your arm.

"You're a cute little drunk," he murmured, cuddling you close. He shifted to his side and threw one of his legs over yours. You buried your face in his chest, pressing kisses to him there.

"You know this'd be nicer if you took your shirt off," you muttered, and he hid a laugh in your hair.

"Mm, would it now, sweet girl?" He tried to respond seriously, his voice breaking just slightly.

"You just look so good without it." You looked up at him, appearing to be deep in thought once more. Then you said, "And without your pants."

Billy clenched his jaw to try and hide the laugh that nearly slipped out. "To be completely fair you look real pretty without your dress too."

"You're pretty all the time," you hummed, and he was enchanted all over again. Reaching a hand up, you smoothed his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He let you, enjoying the feel of your hand like silk over his roughened skin. An outlaw's way, though he'd sand down his edges if you desired so.

Your sweetest quality was your pure love for him exactly how he was. He would change every bit of himself for the mere opportunity to love you. And yet to his luck he was allowed to do exactly that, heart and mind exactly as it was.

Billy looked down at you, dozing off with your head resting on your shoulder, a drunken sleep engulfing you. His angel.

In the morning when you awoke and complained of a headache, he'd be right there to draw the curtains and block the sunlight, to be your pillow and mattress.

He'd bring you water and snuggle himself against you until you were fully lucid again. The love for the woman in his arms wasn't dependent on being drunk or sober.

Watching you sleep, his fingers brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. You were sloppily spread across his chest, dress falling off your shoulder, makeup smeared under your eyes. He smiled at the sight of you. That was the woman he was going to marry.

Planting a series of kisses on your head, he smushed his cheek into you. Billy's eyes shut as the only emotion he'd ever felt holding you overcame him.

Adoration.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney x you #william h bonney imagines #billy the kid fanfic #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid fic #billy the kid fluff #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy

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lovely-peace · 1 year ago

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Tangled in lies

Summary: When your longtime crush is your best friends ex, things aren't really going well. And on a party you go together everything changes.

Pairing: Sirius black x hufflepuff!reader

Warnings: toxic friendship, past toxic relationship (not with the reader), insecurities, self conscious , fake dating (not in this but in the next parts)

Wc: +4100 i hope you like it. The last week I was working on it <3

Masterlist

Prologue part 1

"Did you see that? He just winked at me! I told you there's still something between us!" Seraph whispered in my ear. It seemed like he winked at m-… But she was probably right; I shouldn't think narcissistically.

Three months ago, she and Sirius broke up because he saw her apparently fooling around with another boy. She insisted that he meant everything to her and the other boy meant nothing, but he didn't listen.

In the past few weeks, tension had been building up between them. Seraph saw it as a sign that he couldn't be without her. I don't know what he was thinking; I don't know him well.

But I wish I did.

"Whisky? Are you listening to me?" Seraph brought me back to the present.

"Yes, sorry. I just remembered something."

She looked at me skeptically. "What is it?"

'Hey, what's your name?' His voice echoed in my ears. It sounded so beautiful. 'I'm-' 'Whisky, where are you?' Seraph searched for me. 'Always the same with this girl…' she whispered, but I heard it anyway. But she surely didn't mean it that way. 'Whisky?' he asked with a grin that, with anyone else, would have seemed like he was making fun of them. But with Sirius, it just looked charming.

'Ah, there you are!' Seraph came over to us before I could say anything. She glanced at me briefly, then at Sirius. Then she smiled at me. 'Come, Whisky, you must be tired; after all, we have a test tomorrow, and you wanted to go to bed early.' I still don't know why she said that back then; I never said I wanted that.

She turned to Sirius. 'She's a real nerd.' She laughed loudly, but I didn't understand what was so funny. 'You know, once when she didn't get enough sleep before a test, she vomited on her exam paper! That's why she had to retake the test under difficult conditions. She was embarrassed for weeks.'

Why was she telling him that? I was still ashamed.

Sirius grinned at me even wider. 'Then I won't stop you, little Whisky. You can go to sleep before you vomit again tomorrow.' He laughed, and she laughed with him. I eventually left without her; she had probably forgotten that she came for me, after all.

"I just remembered your first encounter with Sirius." My first encounter with him.

She smiled. "Yes, I remember it well too. We clicked right away." While I couldn't get a word out.

"That's why I'm shocked that he's resisting reconciliation now! We were such a beautiful couple!"

Yes, they were. Better than I could ever have been with him.

"He'll surely come to you soon and listen to you," I reassured her.

She smiled at me even more brightly. "Thanks, Whisky, you're the best!"

The bell rang. The next class was about to start.

"I'll head to Potions now. See you later." She quickly gathered her things and was about to leave, but then she turned around.

"Wait, Whisky, I have a small favor to ask. Could you help me with the Defense Against the Dark Arts homework? I got detention with Slughorn and don't have time to do it anymore."

I nodded to her as she turned away.

"Thanks!" she called out as she rushed to the next class.

Sometimes it felt like she couldn't wait to get away from me.

I had Transfiguration class with Professor McGonagall. During these classes, the Marauders, including Sirius, were also present. I sat next to James, who, for reasons I won't mention, was seated away from Sirius.

At first, I thought maybe he would hate me because of the whole Seraph and Sirius situation, but he was surprisingly nice to me. He always worked with me in partner activities and didn't leave me to do everything alone.

Today, he smiled at me as we started working. "Okay, my favorite Hufflepuff, what do you think today?"

"Well, I think we need to transform the chair into a crocodile," I replied sarcastically. He laughed at that.

"No, that's not what I meant. I wanted to ask if you're coming to the party tonight?"

Party? Usually, Seraph would tell me about it, but this time, she hadn't mentioned a word.

"Actually, I had plans for tonight…" "Oh, come on, you have to come! Something big is going to happen at the party tonight, believe me. You need to see it!" he boasted. I chuckled at that.

"I'll ask Seraph," I said finally. He looked at me strangely.

"Why do you have to ask her? That self absorbed Slytherin already knows about the party and will be there; we already know that."

We. He wasn't just talking about himself; everyone knew she would be at the party. Sirius knew she would be at the party. Everyone except me.

"Don't talk about her like that. She's very nice, you know?" I defended her. Yes, she was nothing but nice to me. She was the first friend I found here.

But he just laughed. "Nice? Come on, 'Whisky,' she uses everyone around her! Sirius has seen it up close, and I'm sure you know it too."

"I told you to stop talking about her like that!" I snapped at him. He looked surprised, but he didn't say anything more. I hated that his words were making me doubt myself. Seraph was my best friend. If I couldn't trust her, then who could I trust?

James cleared his throat shortly after. "Will you still come? We'd love to have you there."

We.

"I'll consider it. I would like to come too." I finally said.

He gave me another smile, and we continued working.

"Why didn't you tell me about the party?" Why did you tell me you had detention when you were actually going to a party?

Seraph looked surprised. "Well, the last time at one of the parties, you left early. I thought you would feel uncomfortable."

I left early because you and Sirius were making fun of me. Because you ruined any chance I might have had with him.

"I'd like to go with you."

She looked briefly disappointed. Almost angry that I said that. But then she smiled again. "If you want to. Let's go together tonight."

Relief washed over me. That was Seraph, my friend. Why was I thinking all these things about her? Do you really don't know?

"Do you really want to wear that? I mean, I don't mind, it just looks a bit weird. It accentuates that you've gained weight, don't you think?" Seraph explained without stopping.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I had wanted to wear a dress, but now all I saw was myself looking like a duck in it.

"It somehow doesn't suit you, right? I mean, there are other things that look better on you! Like…" she paused painfully long.

Finally, she just said, "Forget it." I ended up just putting on a big sweater and loosely fitting pants.

"What do you think of this?" Seraph came out of the bathroom with a beautiful dress. It accentuated all her curves, and the color suited her black hair and blue eyes perfectly.

I smiled at her, even though something inside me tightened. "You look great."

She smiled back at me. "Could you help me with the makeup?"

Of course, I helped her.

She didn't even ask if I wanted to wear makeup too. Maybe it wouldn't help me anyway.

"So! Finally done," Seraph said, looking into the mirror once more. "It's not my best work, but whatever."

She looked like a goddess next to me. She was perfect, oh so perfect. How much I wished…

No, I'm being unreasonable.

She turned to me and smiled. "Shall we go then?"

She didn't even think that maybe I'd get ready too. I have to follow her lead.

I nodded and smiled. "Sure. You look wonderful."

She laughed. "Be careful not to fall in love with me!"

I forced myself to laugh along with her.

No worries, that won't happen anytime soon.

Then we went to the party.

It was loud. Many people were there, pushing and squeezing together. Seraph seemed to thrive in this environment. She just rushed into the crowd without waiting for me.

But I was used to it, and I managed to keep up with her anyway.

She danced on the dance floor, laughing and singing along with the others. She danced with the people there, and the lights illuminated them all perfectly. She moved through the sea of lights like the sun amidst the planets.

I didn't even bother trying to dance; I knew I was terrible at it. Seraph moved so naturally, while I just felt awkward.

So I stood outside the dance floor and watched her. Without her, I felt somewhat lost. Although I actually liked being here, without her, everything felt so new. She was always the one pulling me along everywhere. Without her, I was on my own.

I shook my head. I wanted to be here! So I should make the most of it.

I sat at the bar where I had a good view of the dance floor. That way, Seraph could easily find me too. I ordered a drink and looked around. There were really a lot of people there, almost too many for my taste, but it was still okay.

"Hey, it's good to see you here," I heard the voice I never expected would talk to me.

Sirius sat next to me as if I were a close acquaintance, and it was the most natural thing in the world.

I glanced at him briefly, then looked away. "I think you've got the wrong person."

I felt his gaze on me, and his voice sounded amused. "Why do you think I'm in the wrong place?"

I gave in and looked at him. "Do you know who I am?"

He laughed and stared at me for a while. When I looked at him inquiringly, his smile disappeared, and he looked puzzled. "Damn, you're serious. 'Whisky' , did you forget? We talked last Christmas. Besides, we have many classes together, and my friends and I literally invited you. You're not as invisible as you think," he said, looking bewildered.

His words overwhelmed me. I always thought I went unnoticed when Seraph was in the same room. Everyone immediately talked to her. There was nothing wrong with that, when she was seraph and i were me.

Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable under Sirius' gaze. If he knew who I was, why was he talking to me? Did he want to ask about Seraph?

Yes, that must be it. He wants to ask me how to get along better with Seraph.

"Hey, are you still there?" he suddenly asked. I nodded briefly and took a sip of my drink.

I stared straight ahead. I couldn't meet his gaze again. There was something intense in his eyes, and it made me nervous.

"Do you like it here?" he continued undeterred. Despite me not contributing much to the conversation, he was making an effort.

"Yes, it's pleasant," I replied, wanting to say more, but only thoughts about Seraph came to mind, and I didn't want to mention her first to him.

I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm glad. We put in a lot of effort. Today is meant to be perfect."

I couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that. Was he finally going to reconcile with her?

"Sirius!!!" I heard her shout. She ran towards us, no, towards him, trying to hug him, but he dodged her. Eventually he couldn't dodge her longer and she clung on him like a koala bear.

Speak of the devil.

"Seraphine, could you please let go of me?" Sirius' eyes were narrowed as he looked at Seraph, who was pouting.

"Full name? What happened to Sera? You're so cold, Siri!" she said but eventually let him go.

Sirius rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I wonder where that comes from."

She just shook her head in response. "Come on, Sirius, you can stop pretending to hate me. You know it was nothing serious with him!"

He snorted and wrinkled his nose. "I know it wasn't serious. You were making out with three other guys that week, and those are just the ones I know of."

She did what??

Seraph glanced briefly at me, as if she just noticed I was there, then looked back at Sirius. "You broke my heart! You can't blame me for wanting to have some fun!"

"I don't know how much 'fun' you've had during our relationship, and honestly, I don't want to know." Sirius finally said, then he turned to me.

"Where were we? Oh yes, preparing for the party! Yes, we had a lot of fun, and I'm glad you're enjoying it. Have you danced yet?"

Before I could answer, Seraph spoke for me. "Oh, please, Whisky and dancing? Come on, stop pretending you're actually interested in her; it won't make me jealous!"

He didn't even turn around; he just looked into my eyes. "Did I talk to you, Seraphine? No, I didn't. And unlike you, I don't talk to people just to use them, so shut up!"

I felt out of place and wanted to leave when he asked again, "Have you danced yet?"

After Seraph's words, I felt embarrassed to shake my head, but saying it out loud would only make it more awkward.

He smiled gently, as if Seraph wasn't standing angry behind him. "Would you like to dance with me?"

He extended his hand towards me, and I could hear Seraph sharply inhale. "Sirius, you're acting ridiculous, don't you realize? I mean, why are you asking her when I'm right here-"

"CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I REALLY WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU??" he angrily yelled at her.

She fell silent after that. I saw something glimmer in her eyes, and I immediately felt guilty.

"I hate you!" she shouted before rushing off to the restroom.

He sighed, almost relieved, and turned back to me. "Would you?" he asked, with that smile again. And there came my problem. I wanted to. And it felt like I was the worst person in the world for it.

Tears welled up in me as I thought of Seraph, probably crying her eyes out.

Sirius' gaze was still focused on me, but I had already made up my mind.

"Sorry, I have to go through, can you move aside?" I asked him without looking at him.

I could feel his disappointment as he stepped aside and let me go after Seraph.

I quickly ran after her to the girls' restroom, so I wouldn't change my mind.

Inside, it smelled, and the air was stuffy.

Seraph stood in front of the mirror, reapplying her lipstick. She didn't turn to look at me and just kept going. "There you are. I thought I had lost my best friend to that wannabe Casanova."

She wasn't crying. She was fine. "I thought you were -" I started, but she just laughed.

"Those crocodile tears I pulled out? They were just for show."

She inspected her eyes and sighed in annoyance. "But now I have to redo my eyeliner! Well, hopefully, he feels guilty now and comes begging for my forgiveness!"

"I thought you weren't feeling well. I thought you needed my help!" I was bewildered. Was all that just for show?

She didn't even look at me. "Come on, Whisky, it's not a big deal. I'm just trying to get back together with my ex-boyfriend; after all, he broke my heart!"

She now did her other eye. "And he's just as terrible. I mean, asking you to dance in front of me? He's trying to use you against me, that bastard! You should be much more upset about it!"

"I don't think -"

She burst out laughing. "Please, Whisky, as if he ever really wants to have anything to do with you! He was a jerk to you from the moment we first met; you just don't interest him!"

That hurt. Even though I should already know that. But hearing it from her hurt more than it should. Tears welled up in me, and I tried to turn away so she wouldn't notice, but she already did.

She sighed loudly and finally turned around. "Whisky, please don't cry again. I don't mean it in a mean way; I'm just being realistic."

I nodded vigorously, so she would stop talking and I could calm down. But then, a sob escaped me.

She came from behind me and hugged me. "I just want to protect you. He will only take advantage of you. I don't want to see you hurt, especially not because of him. Isn't one broken heart because of Sirius enough?"

I nodded and hugged her back. After a while, she gently pushed me. "Come on, that's enough crying now; you'll ruin my dress."

I quickly let go of her and went to the sink to wash my face.

Then she took my arm. "Come on, we can leave. By now, he should feel guilty enough."

I just nodded and followed her, as always.

Seraph walked with her head held high through the crowd, ignoring the people around her. She tried to act as hurt as possible, to make it 'not so easy for Sirius' – her words, not mine.

I tried to hide behind her and shrink myself. I looked down and followed her fast steps.

It was a weird situation that I couldn't handle. I hoped Sirius wouldn't approach me again.

Seraph headed for the bar, but on the exact opposite side from where we were before.

"I really need a drink," she whispered to me. I just nodded and followed her to the bar.

Instead of the guy who was serving drinks before, James and Peter were there now, apparently discussing something. Peter looked concerned, but James was just smiling and shaking his head.

Seraph went to the bar and raised her hand, demanding attention. "Bartender!" she called as if they were her slaves. Although she knew James and Peter well as they were friends with Sirius, she didn't let it show.

James came over to us, while Peter looked worried in our direction. I wondered what that was supposed to mean.

"What can I get for our snake?" James asked with a sugary voice and a fake smile.

Seraph didn't even flinch. "Your humor is still in the basement, Potter."

"I think it's yours that's in the basement, considering you took that as a joke. I was quite serious." he retorted.

Seraph looked challengingly into his eyes. "I just want a simple lemonade, but if that's too difficult for your little brain, you can also make me a cocktail, as you seem to know them by heart with how much you drink!" With that, she turned around and went to the dance floor.

I probably had to bring her the drink.

James grumbled. "Inflated bit-, what do you want, Huffle?" he asked me finally.

I pointed to the first drink on the menu and kept an eye out for her, so I wouldn't lose her.

Seraph danced energetically with the crowd. She laughed with a few Slytherin girls who were her roommates.

It makes me sad that we are in different houses, but on the other hand, I'm glad that we are still good friends.

Yet, an uneasy feeling arises within me when she laughs with these girls. It always feels like they are looking down on me.

"Here are your drinks." James placed two drinks on the counter. One was a lemonade, the other a fancy fruit and sugar drink that I didn't recognize. Oh God.

"Thanks." I said and waved to seraph to come and get her drink. Normally, I would go to her, but it wouldn't be a good idea to run around with my drink.

Seraph was engrossed in her conversation with them, so she didn't notice me. Then, one of the girls smiled at me, but it wasn't a friendly smile. She laughed and said something to seraph. She laughed in response and slowly came over to me.

"She always leaves you alone," I heard James' voice behind me. I ignored him and smiled at seraph, handing her the drink.

She looked at my drink for a long moment. Then she looked at me skeptically. "Do you really want to drink that? It has a lot of sugar and calories, and you already had a piece of cake today. So it's your decision. But I'd trade with you; the lemonade has not that much sugar in it."

My stomach suddenly felt strange, and I felt even more uncomfortable in my skin.

I just nodded and handed her my drink, while she gave me hers.

"Thanks," I said before she took a big sip from my drink, no, from her drink.

"No problem, I just want to help you," she said finally. "I'll go over to Cassie and Phina for a moment, okay?" she said before going to the other girls.

I felt terribly abandoned. And I know it's childish, but it hurt that she didn't even ask if I wanted to come too.

I finished my lemonade and turned to the bar.

But then, I saw James' pale face.

And then, everyone around me fell silent.

I looked around, and all eyes were on me. Then I heard laughter around me and saw amused looks.

The laughter grew louder until everyone was laughing.

"Hey, are you sure you're not in Slytherin?" a boy asked with a smile before bursting into loud laughter.

I looked at my reflection in the glasses, which reflected my new neon green hair.

I slowly went to the restroom, until I eventually ran away. I swung the door to the restroom open and suddenly got drenched in water.

A bucket full of water had fell on me, from on the door and the laughter behind me grew louder.

I quickly closed the door behind me to muffle the laughter. I locked myself in the restroom and stared at my neon green hair, which hadn't lost any intensity despite the water.

Tears welled up in me as I looked at my ugly appearance, and I hoped seraph would come soon.

I waited.

And waited.

But she didn't come to check on me.

After a while that felt incredibly long, I heard footsteps going into one of the other restroom stalls. I tried to be as quiet as possible, suppressing my sobbing and breathing softly.

I heard the flush and footsteps going to the sink.

"Hey, do you need help?" The female voice was unfamiliar. At first, I thought she might be talking to someone else, but then she came to my stall.

"It's not as bad as you think, really. It actually looks pretty." she said.

"Yeah, sure. I have eyes, I know how bad it looks, you know?" I whispered back. I was very quiet, but she seemed to have heard me.

"I'm serious. Really."

There was silence. "Aren't you going to come out?" the girl asked.

"No." I whispered, and at the end, it turned into a sob.

"I'm Marlene. What's your name?"

She was kind to me, but I wasn't really in a condition to answer properly. As her footsteps moved away slightly, panic surged within me.

"I'm (y/n)." I finally said in a firmer voice.

"Okay, (y/n), you can always come to me and my friends if someone bothers you, okay?" Her voice turned serious, and it held a promise.

"Okay." I replied. "Thank you."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Always happy to help."

Then she left.

I was alone for a long time. I had already given up hope that my friend would come and check on me, so I hid, hoping that eventually, there would be no one left outside.

But eventually, I heard voices approaching the restroom. They stood outside the girls' restroom door and seemed to be arguing. And then, I recognized them.

"Omg, I just don't understand you! Your best friend is in there, and you're out here laughing as if nothing happened!" Sirius scolded my friend.

Seraph just groaned annoyed. "And here I thought you were following me to apologize."

Sirius took a sharp breath. "Are you even listening to me? (Y/n) was just humiliated in front of everyone, why don't you go in and see her?"

Seraph's voice grew louder. "Just because something stupid happened to her, and she's hiding in the restroom, doesn't mean I should let it ruin my fun too. Fuck, if we hadn't swapped drinks on a whim, I'd have the green hair, right? I can be thankful for that; that would've been the worst!"

Tears welled up in me again.

Sirius' voice also grew louder. "Is it always just about you? Wait, I know it is, I've been with you long enough. You're one of the most selfish and narcissistic people I know! There's your reason why I don't want anything to do with you!"

Seraph laughed loudly in response. "Now I'm the bad one? Oh please, Sirius, don't make a fool of yourself! I think we both know why her hair is now this disgusting green. You and your friends wanted to dye my hair because you know how much I care about it!"

Her voice grew slightly softer. "Your actions have consequences, Sirius. You know you're to blame for her crying her eyes out in there."

Then it was silent. I heard my breath and my heart beating for a while. Than there was a loud clapping sound. It was sounding like a slap.

"Are you going to check on her now?" Sirius said much calmer than before. Seraph had slapped him.

"You know what, Sirius? Fuck you, seriously! Instead of apologizing to me for this prank, I'm now supposed to clean up your mess!" Seraph yelled at him.

"She has the green hair, not you. She's your friend; I don't think she wants to see me. Besides, it's the girls' restroom." Sirius said, almost accusatory.

"That's your problem. I don't have to cling to my friends all the time like a parasite; I'm allowed to have some fun too!" Then I heard her running away.

She didn't have fun with me? Was I just a clingy parasite to her?

I heard Sirius sigh. Then I heard his footsteps fading away, and I had never felt so alone.

I stayed in the girls' restroom for a long time. I was ashamed to come out. Eventually, when I couldn't hear anyone anymore, I sneaked away in the shadows of the darkness, heading to the Hufflepuff common room.

From there, I went to my shared room with other girls. They were already asleep; I must have spent quite a long time in the restroom. My eyes burned from all the tears that had been shed, and my hair seemed to glow in the darkness.

I tiptoed into my bed and pulled the blanket over my head to hide my hair. I was afraid to face the school. But now it was the weekend. I could continue hiding here for a while.

"(y/n)? Are you there?" Lydia, one of my roommates, asked. She seemed nice, but since I was always with Seraph, we had never really talked. Until now.

"Yes?" I whispered back. I was afraid she might see my ugliness, afraid she would laugh at me too.

"Don't you want to have breakfast?" Her voice was gentle, with a hint of concern.

"No, I'm not really hungry," I replied, not moving an inch under my blanket.

"Okay, we'll go then."

"Mhm…" I hummed and waited until everyone had left. Then, I slowly got up and went to the small bathroom. I locked the door and looked in the mirror.

Unchanged.

If my tears hadn't run out from last night, I would have burst into tears again.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then I stepped into the shower. I scrubbed and scrubbed my hair, but the color wouldn't fade away.

I spent a lot of time in the shower. At some point, I just let the water pour down on me, drowning my thoughts. My skin turned red, and I sank to the shower floor.

I was simply exhausted.

Eventually, I turned off the water and just sat there, too exhausted and scared to come out.

Knocking woke me from my slumber. I had fallen asleep on the floor.

"(y/n)? Are you in there?"

I tried to answer, but my voice wouldn't obey me. I layed helplessly on the floor, attempting to say something, but nothing came out.

"(y/n)? Hey, what's wrong?"

I tried to sit up, but I felt dizzy. I leaned against the wall and finally managed to say something. "Nothing, I'm fine."

There was a brief silence. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Yes," I lied, not wanting her to worry unnecessarily.

"But you weren't at dinner. Black asked about you," she said.

Dinner? How long had I been lying here on the floor? Sirius asked about me?

"I'll come out soon," I said, attempting to get up. But suddenly everything spun, and my stomach churned. I looked down at the sink, and before I realized what was happening, I vomited.

"OMG, ARE YOU VOMITING? DON'T SAY YOU'RE FINE!" Lydia suddenly shouted from outside. I vomited again, and in the end, my legs gave out. I collapsed under the sink, new tears streaming down my face.

"(Y/N), LET ME IN!" Lydia continued to scream. She was panicking.

"Don't worry. It's over," I whispered weakly. "I'm okay now, I just felt nauseous."

"Are you sure?" Lydia asked in a calmer but still concerned tone.

"Yes, I'll be out soon."

I waited until they were asleep, then I tiptoed to my bed in the darkness. Once again, I hid under my blanket, hoping I would never be seen again.

When I woke up again, it was early. The others were still asleep. I didn't move and just waited to fall asleep again. I could hardly feel my legs, and my stomach churned.

Under the blanket, it was stifling, and after a while, breathing became painful. But I didn't want to uncover myself because then my hair would be visible.

I was scared. I could only hide today. Tomorrow, at the latest, I had to be there for the first class. The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine.

Would Seraph help me? No, actually, I didn't want to think about her. It would only remind me of her words in front of the bathroom. Just like Sirius and his friends.

Eventually, I gave up and sneaked into the bathroom. There was no trace of what happened yesterday. I washed my face and brushed my teeth again, looking into the mirror.

No matter how I looked at myself, the neon green hair always caught my eye. This color simply didn't suit me and didn't look good on me. Seraph would definitely rock it.

"I think we both know why her hair is now this disgusting green. You and your friends wanted to dye my hair because you know how much I care about it!"

But she wouldn't want to. And she doesn't have to.

I crept back into my bed and pulled the blanket over my head again. I had fresh oxygen now. Slowly but surely, I fell asleep again.

I was awakened by the movements of the others. They were getting ready for their weekend. I wished so much to be someone else and just enjoy my weekend. But with my hair, I wouldn't go anywhere.

"(y/n)? Are you still alive?" Maya asked ironically. I had never spoken to her, just like Lydia. "Yes, don't worry," I whispered back.

"Do you want to have breakfast with us today?" Maya asked. I had never had breakfast with them. We only saw each other in the room.

"Nice of you, but I'm not hungry." I felt sick and felt like a corpse.

"Hey, you didn't have breakfast yesterday either. Are you sure you don't want anything today?" Maya asked, and I answered with a soft yes.

She was silent for a while. But then she said in a new serious tone, "But you'll come with us tomorrow! And you will have breakfast, okay?"

I wanted to trust her, but I was so afraid that the same thing could happen as at the party. That they would all laugh at me. Still, I gave her my agreement and waited until they were out.

Then I slowly got out of my bed and got dressed. At first, I wanted to read, but the letters blurred before my eyes, and my head hurt terribly.

I locked myself in the bathroom again so that no one could see me when they came into our room. The others were nice, but I just didn't want anyone to see me.

I combed my hair, hoping that they would lose some color, but then I gave up. There was nothing to be done; my hair was green. I had to accept it.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I became as quiet as possible, so no one would think someone was inside. The others weren't here, so the person would leave soon. It definitely wasn't Seraph.

"Whisky? Hey, I come in slowly, okay?"

Sirius. Of all the people here, Sirius was here to check on me.

He had done it. He and his friends. James, whom I trusted. Whom I worked with. Sirius, who wanted to defend me in front of Seraph, had humiliated me in front of everyone. And now he wanted to check on me? It had to be a bad joke.

"Are you in the bathroom? Am I disturbing?" he asked, sounding almost nervous.

"Yes." I just wanted him to go away.

He laughed nervously. "I'll wait here in the room for you, okay?"

NO, NO, NO! Anything but that!

"How did you even get in here?" I finally asked to get him to leave. But he answered quite normally and didn't seem to be ashamed of being in a girls' room.

"Your roommates gave me the password, and coming to the girls' sleeping quarters was no problem."

I fell silent and sat back down on the bathroom floor. If I stayed in here long enough, he would eventually leave and give up.

After a while of silence, he said something again. "Hey, is everything okay with you? What are you doing in there for so long?"

Since I had no answer to the second question, I just ignored it. "I'm fine," I said simply, hoping it would be enough.

He sighed. Apparently, it wasn't enough. "Whisky, I can understand that you don't want to see me, but I've been worried. You didn't even eat yesterday, and Lydia said you vomited."

"Don't call me that."

His voice changed from concerned to surprised. "What?"

"Don't call me Whisky!" I said louder. I couldn't stand hearing that nickname right now, especially from him.

There was silence for a while, but then Sirius laughed softly. "Okay, darling, if that's what you want. But actually, I'm here to bring you some food."

What?

"I'm not hungry," I said softly. I heard him sigh in response.

"Darling, you didn't eat yesterday; you have to eat something. Come out, please." His voice sounded almost pleading. Something in me weakened at that tone, and the anger towards him faded away.

But not the shame.

"You can leave it outside the door, and I'll eat it later," I said to make a compromise.

"But then I won't know if you really ate it!" he said now, desperation in his voice.

"I promise you I'll eat it," I said then. I could only hope that my word was enough for him.

"But I also wanted to check on you, see how you're doing," his voice became softer.

"I already said I'm fine."

Now his voice was so soft that I could barely hear it. "But I actually wanted to see you."

The anger from before suddenly rushed back, and I felt like some special animal at the zoo. "Sirius, if you came here to make fun of me, you can leave quickly," I said, my voice cold.

"No, I don't mean it that way. I didn't come to see your hair but to see you. Please, come out. Please!" Now he was really pleading.

I was afraid to meet his gaze, afraid that he had to hold back his laughter.

But something in me gave in, and my trembling legs moved towards the door. Slowly, I unlocked it. Then I waited for a moment to catch my breath before pressing down the door handle.

Sirius was sitting on my bed, looking down at the floor. I slowly walked towards him. Then I stopped and didn't know what to do next.

Then he looked up at me, meeting my eyes with that concern, but also with something I couldn't decipher. I had never seen such a look before.

"Come, darling, have something to eat," he whispered to me, pointing to the spot next to him, where he had brought some food.

I sat down slowly next to him, keeping a visible distance. Then I took the cutlery he had brought and tried to focus on the food. But it was difficult with Sirius Black sitting next to you, looking at you with that expression.

I took a bite and chewed. Then I swallowed, and for a moment, everything was fine. The next moment, I rushed to the bathroom and vomited.

"Damn it, darling, you look terrible! Why didn't you say anything? You need to go to the infirmary!" Sirius stood behind me, pulling my hair out of the way. He stroked my back and continued whispering to me. "Come on, I'll take you there."

Then everything went black.

I saw white. The ceiling was white and seemed so far away. I wasn't in my bed. I was in the infirmary. Alone.

I slowly sat up, which demanded a lot of energy from me. I was separated from the others by a curtain around my bed, which relieved me.

But why was I here? What happened? What time was it?

I looked at the small nightstand next to me, where a little bouquet of flowers lay. There was a card attached to it.

'I don't know if you want to see me, but I hope you get better very soon! And take better care of yourself!

Sirius.'

The card was small but nice, and somehow it meant a lot to me.

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled aside, and Madam Pomfrey stood in front of me. She looked at me critically and shook her head. "Well, at least you're awake. But I've never seen anything like this! What were you thinking?"

"What?" I was confused. I didn't purposely faint; I couldn't control that.

"Well, not eating anything and drinking so little! Your circulation, especially your stomach, completely collapsed, which led to vomiting and fainting. Now your stomach is irritated, and you'll have to eat soup for a while." She placed some things on my nightstand, probably tablets.

"And I've never seen Sirius so panicked, and I see him here often. About every month to be exact, but this is different. Don't scare your boyfriend like that!"

I felt heat rising inside me and tried to suppress it. That was wrong; he was seraph's ex. But hadn't I already liked him before?

"I'm not his… I mean, he's not my-"

She furrowed her brow. "Not? He wouldn't leave your side and literally carried you in here. I thought you two were… well, maybe that will happen later. For now, you should focus on your health. You should've done that a long time ago!"

I only vaguely registered what she said. Sirius brought me here? Carried me here? THROUGH THE WHOLE CASTLE??

And I thought my hair would make me stand out, but now everything is ruined. I could already smell the rumors and suddenly had a terrible fear of leaving here. I used to never stand out next to seraph. But now? Now, I had attention, only the bad kind.

"What time is it?" I asked to distract myself.

"It's 6 PM on Monday. I'll bring you your dinner, and you'll eat it, young lady! You won't leave here until the day after tomorrow when your circulation is fully recovered." She said with a threatening tone. I nodded and started eating. I had slept for almost an entire day, and yet, I was still tired.

Somehow, I managed to finish the soup and almost immediately fell asleep again.

I woke up to footsteps. Steps coming towards my bed. I became more nervous as they got closer. Then the curtains were pulled aside, and Seraph stood in front of me.

When her gaze met mine, she frowned. Her eyes fell on my hair, and I felt terribly small. Then she looked into my eyes. Her gaze was cold. No smile, no encouragement.

"Well, well, our little attention seeker is here." She spat the words out and looked at me as if I had committed the greatest crime.

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I knew it would make her angry. But I couldn't apologize for something I didn't know.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, please, all this playing the victim is disgusting. All for the attention of a boy! And my ex, no less! You're truly a snake!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend to be innocent! You're a little parasite who always clings to others and seeks their attention! I'm sick of you! And you wonder why I didn't tell you about the party? Simply because I'm ashamed of you! I hate being seen with you, and yet I put up with it! And how do you thank me? You try to go after my boyfriend! I don't regret giving you that potion! At least with that hair, there's something special about you, apart from your best friend!"

Every word stabbed my heart and tore it apart a little more. Every word seemed to drive her further into a rage. "You purposely gave me the potion drink? You knew about the prank?" I whispered with tears in my eyes.

"Well…" She laughed briefly. "It wasn't hard to figure out that something was in the drink. And I thought, why not let you try it. Don't worry; you weren't a bigger laughingstock than usual."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I never tried to take Sirius away from you or whatever you think!" I couldn't believe what was happening here.

"Oh, don't worry, I know you wouldn't have a chance with him anyway. He's only with you because he feels guilty and wants to annoy me. But we both know he's not interested in you." She mocked me.

"What's your problem?" I finally asked. "What have I done to you?"

She stomped aggressively. Then she looked into my eyes and came to my bed. Before she could say anything, her gaze fell on the flowers. I wanted to put them away, but she already grabbed the card.

"You've always attached yourself to me and hoped to get something from me. You waited until you could steal everything from me!" And then she ran away.

I stared after her and cried. I cried for a long time. Even though I knew none of the things she said were true, a part of me believed her. I had always been with her; maybe I really was too much. Perhaps I deserved all of this. Maybe I really was a snake.

"Love?"

Sirius.

I tried to wipe away my tears as quickly as possible and compose myself.

"I heard you woke up yesterday. Couldn't you have done that when I was here? I waited here yesterday until evening."

He was at my bedside now. "You really scared me."

He sat on the chair next to my nightstand, right beside me. I looked away so he wouldn't see my tear-streaked face.

"You waited for me to wake up?" It didn't feel right, not after the conversation with Seraph.

"Yes, of course. I was worried." Then there was silence. Seraph hadn't been worried. Seraph didn't even ask if I was feeling better.

"Wouldn't you have wanted me here when you woke up?" he asked, his voice suddenly vulnerable.

"What? Of course, I would have wanted you here?!" I said nervously.

He chuckled softly. "Are you saying you want me here with you?" His voice was playful.

I blushed. "What do you want from me?" I asked. I didn't know how to handle Sirius. I just didn't know what he wanted from me.

"Just the truth, darling, just the truth. Now tell me," he turned my face to him so he could look at me. "why were you crying?"

His hand remained on my cheek. "It's stupid." I whispered, trying to change the subject. But he shook his head. "It's not stupid if it made you cry. Please be honest with me, love. What hurt you so much?"

I had to look away to avoid his gaze. "Seraph was just here. She said some things, and I…" I didn't know why I was telling him this; I barely knew him. But there was something about Sirius that made me open up to him.

"What kind of crap did she spew this time?" Sirius's voice became tense and almost aggressive.

I looked into his eyes. Despite his tone, they were warm, soft, and kind. Yet, because of him, I had these hair now. Because of him, I was humiliated in front of everyone. Seraph's words echoed in my head. What if he was only here to make her angry?

"It's nothing important. But she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore." I said finally, looking away.

"She doesn't want anything to do with you? She should be grateful you put up with her for so long!" He said, annoyed. "Probably because of me, right? Because I brought you here yesterday?"

I couldn't look him in the eyes. "She thinks that…" I couldn't say it, but I didn't have to.

"I know what she thought."

We sat there in silence, and I felt terrible. What was I without Seraph? She had always been my friend, always decided what I should do.

But part of me was angry. Angry that she was playing with me like this. Angry that I could let myself be so influenced by her.

"Would it bother you?" Sirius suddenly asked.

"What?" I asked back.

He looked into my eyes. "If she thought we were together?"

My heart started racing, and I tried to look away, but I couldn't. His eyes seemed to hypnotize me.

"If the whole school thought there was something between us, would you be ashamed?" he continued.

"I don't know-" I was speechless; how could I answer that?

He laughed softly. "Do you not want to make Seraph really angry?"

Not really. But when I realized what he was talking about, my heart

continued to weaken.

"We can give her ego a little blow," he said with that irresistible Sirius Black smile.

"Sirius, I don't know…"

"Besides, it would take the focus off the prank, you know?" he said softly. His enthusiasm suddenly wavered. "And if it's too much for you, we can always stop! Let's just pretend to be together for 1-2 months or something."

1-2 months with him? Actually, I wanted to spend more time with him, get to know him. But doing this would only make Seraph angry. Seraph would think she was right.

In a moment of weakness, I nodded. "Okay."

He smiled at me. "Then starting tomorrow, we'll be a couple, darling."

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