#but maybe I’m not giving them a fair shot yet

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), r is a gryffindor lol, this is lowkey super short… 2.1k words, the next chapter will be better...trust

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

It had been weeks. Weeks since James had last spoken to you, the last time you had talked was in december, now you're almost two weeks into february, and the rift between you only seemed to grow wider. At first, he told himself he was giving you space. He thought that if he stayed back, you’d eventually come to him, and things would go back to normal. But that wasn’t what happened.

Every time James worked up the courage to approach you, it was the same thing: you were with him.

Finn Laurier.

James hated how the name left a sour taste in his mouth. Finn wasn’t a bad guy—he was charming, clever, and polite. Too polite, in James’s opinion. Finn Laurier was completely different from James, and that only made the knot of insecurity and jealousy in James’s chest tighten.

While James was loud and brash, Finn had an easygoing, quiet confidence about him. Where James was all about grand gestures and bold declarations, Finn had a knack for subtlety and knowing the right thing to say at the right time. It didn’t help that Finn had somehow managed to claim the spot James had always held at your side, and you didn’t seem to mind.

From across the common room, James watched as Finn leaned in closer to you, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. You laughed at something he said, the sound tugging at James’s heart in a way that made him feel like an idiot.

He slumped back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. “What does she even see in him?” he muttered under his breath.

Sirius, sprawled out beside him, didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s good-looking, smart, and doesn’t look like he’s been moping for weeks?”

James glared at him. “I’m not moping.”

“Sure, you’re not,” Sirius drawled. “That’s why you’ve been staring at them for the past ten minutes like you’re about to hex him.”

“I’m not going to hex him,” James grumbled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s very mature of you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in from his corner, not looking up from his book. “But maybe instead of glaring at him, you should focus on fixing things with her.”

“Yeah, because that’s gone so well for me so far,” James shot back bitterly.

“Have you even tried?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

James opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. The truth was, he had tried—at least, he thought he had. But every time he saw you, Finn was there, making you laugh, leaning just a little too close. And every time, James felt like his chances were slipping further and further away.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to ignore the knot of confusion and hurt that James’s behavior had left behind. You weren’t blind to the way he’d been avoiding you, or how he seemed to retreat every time you so much as glanced in his direction.

Finn had been a welcome distraction. He was kind, easy to talk to, and, most importantly, he didn’t make you feel like you’d done something wrong. But even as you laughed at his jokes and listened to his stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling of James’s eyes on you from across the room.

“Everything okay?” Finn asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet all of a sudden,” Finn said, tilting his head slightly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you said quickly, offering him a small smile. “I just… I guess I’m a little distracted.”

Finn nodded, his expression understanding. “Fair enough. If you ever want to talk about it…”

“Thanks, Finn,” you said softly, though your gaze drifted back toward James.

He was still sitting on the couch with Sirius, looking like he was caught between frustration and defeat. When your eyes met for the briefest of moments, he quickly looked away, running a hand through his already messy hair.

You sighed, your chest tightening. Whatever had happened between you and James, it felt bigger than anything you could fix with a simple conversation. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle this silent stalemate.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It was now James’s second least favorite day—Valentine’s Day. His least favorite day was still the one he’d sat in Charms class and watched you laugh with Finn Laurier for the first time. That moment had burned itself into his memory, playing on a cruel loop every time he closed his eyes.

But this… this was a close second.

If you had told James back in December that he’d be avoiding you on Valentine’s Day instead of spending it as a happy, loved-up couple, he would have called you mad. Back then, he’d been so sure of himself. So sure that his letter, his heartfelt, trembling confession, would be the thing that finally made you see him as more than just James Potter, your goofy best friend.

And yet, here he was, slouched in a chair in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by heart-shaped confetti that refused to disappear no matter how many times he swatted it away. The house elves had really outdone themselves this year—floating cupid decorations zipped around the room, shooting glittering pink arrows into the air. James glared at one that came a little too close, muttering something about “bloody overkill.”

“I hate this,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and sinking lower into his chair.

“Well, don’t be sulking for the whole day,” Sirius said, perched on the arm of the couch nearby. His tone was a mix of amusement and exasperation, his gray eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’re all supposed to go to The Three Broomsticks soon, remember?”

James let out another unintelligible grumble, something that sounded suspiciously like “don’t want to,” though the exact words were lost in his sulk.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate, this is getting ridiculous. You’ve been moping around for weeks.”

“I’m not moping,” James shot back, though the words lacked any real conviction.

“You’re literally the definition of moping,” Sirius said, smirking. “You’re sitting here, arms crossed, glaring at a cupid like it personally insulted your family.”

“I don’t want to go to The Three Broomsticks,” James muttered.

“And why not?” Sirius pressed, though James could tell from his tone that he already knew the answer.

James sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Because she might be there,” he admitted quietly.

“She, as in you-know-who?” Sirius teased, though his smirk softened slightly when he saw the genuine frustration on James’s face. “Look, Prongs, you can’t avoid her forever. It’s a small castle. You’re bound to run into her eventually.”

“I know that,” James said, his voice tight. “But I just… I can’t deal with seeing her with him today, alright? Not on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

Sirius leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re assuming she’s spending the day with Finn, but has she actually told you that?”

James hesitated. “No,” he admitted reluctantly. “But why wouldn’t she? He’s—he’s Finn Laurier, for Merlin’s sake. He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t she spend Valentine’s Day with him?”

“You’re an idiot,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

James blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Sirius said, standing up and stretching, “that instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, you could actually try talking to her. Maybe, just maybe, things aren’t as hopeless as you think.”

James stared at him, his heart hammering in his chest. The idea of approaching you now, after everything, felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. But Sirius’s words planted a small, stubborn seed of hope in his mind.

“Fine,” James muttered, standing up. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m hexing you.”

Sirius grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As James followed Sirius out of the common room, his mind raced with a hundred different scenarios. He wasn’t sure what he’d say if he saw you—or if he even had the courage to say anything at all. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t keep hiding forever. But it looks like the odds were not in his favor–he felt like his world was crumbling. He knew he shouldn't have listened to Sirius, it just made things worse. You had said yes to being Finn’s valentine–and worst of all, who asks a girl out on valentine's day?

James scoffed, his sadness shifting into a simmering anger. He quickly left the scene, Sirius trailed behind him, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.

“Slow down, Prongs!” Sirius called.

James didn’t respond, only slowing when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. He paused there, allowing Sirius to catch up before muttering the password under his breath. As the portrait swung open, James turned to his friend with a scowl.

“I’m never listening to you again.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius protested, throwing up his hands. “How was I supposed to know Laurier would swoop in right then and there?”

Inside the common room, Remus and Peter exchanged curious glances.

“What happened?” Remus asked, his tone cautious.

“She was right there,” James burst out, his voice rising with frustration. “And so was Laurier. He asked her out! They didn’t even see me—or Sirius, thankfully—but still!” He threw himself into an armchair, running a hand through his already messy hair.

The others stayed silent, unsure how to comfort him.

After an awkward three minutes, Peter cleared his throat and attempted to lighten the mood. “Why don’t we head to the Three Broomsticks? A bit of butterbeer might help take your mind off things.”

For a moment, James said nothing. Then, as if possessed by some newfound resolve, he stood abruptly.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone. “If she can be completely unbothered after I confessed my undying love for her, then ignore me, and worst of all—start dating some tosser who’s the polar opposite of me—then fine. I’ll move on too. Starting now. Let’s go.”

The other Marauders stared at him, dumbfounded. This wasn’t the James they knew—the James who would spend hours pestering Sirius about why you hadn’t replied to his letters, the James who badgered Remus for details about your every interaction, the James who constantly begged Peter for updates about you in the classes you shared.

It was as if the James Potter they knew had been replaced by someone else entirely.

The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed with snow, the cold biting at their cheeks as the Marauders made their way to the Three Broomsticks. James led the group, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his jaw set tight. He was unusually quiet, his normal easy going demeanor replaced with something sharper, more defensive.

Sirius tried to break the silence first. “Prongs, mate, you know she didn’t do it to hurt you, right? She probably didn’t even know how you felt.”

James let out a sharp laugh, his breath clouding in the cold air. “She didn’t know? Oh, she knew. I wrote her a bloody letter, Padfoot. I poured my heart out. If she didn’t get the hint, then she’s thicker than I thought—and she’s not thick.”

Sirius grimaced, clearly regretting his choice of words. “Alright, alright, bad point. But still, Laurier? The guy’s got the personality of a Flobberworm.”

“Doesn’t matter,” James muttered. “Apparently, she likes Flobberworms.”

Peter, trying to ease the tension, piped up, “Well, maybe Laurier’s just a rebound, you know? She’ll realize what a tosser he is soon enough.”

Remus shot Peter a warning look, but James seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice.

“Rebound from what?” James muttered. “She’s never been with anyone to rebound from.”

They reached the Three Broomsticks, the warm glow from inside spilling out onto the snow-covered street. The group filed in, quickly finding a table in the back corner. The usual bustling energy of the pub seemed muted to James, his mind too occupied with replaying the moment he’d seen you say yes to Finn Laurier.

A round of butterbeers arrived at the table, and Sirius pushed a tankard in front of James. “Alright, here’s the plan,” Sirius said, leaning forward. “We’re going to have a laugh, you’re going to forget about Laurier, and tomorrow, you’ll go back to being your annoying, charming self. Sounds good?”

James took a long sip of his butterbeer, the warm liquid doing little to ease the ache in his chest. “Yeah, sure. Forget about her. Easy.”

“James,” Remus said gently, “it’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you.”

“I’m not acting,” James snapped, though his tone softened almost immediately. “I’m fine. Really.”

Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus, both of them unconvinced.

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[yourqueenb]

One chapter in, and I already cannot *stand* this LI, they're just an asshole?? The anger issues are not it I'm afraid.

See I actually don’t hate Casey yet. The hot-bloodedness and eagerness to jump at any sort of bait are annoying and childish, but I can still see the potential in the dynamic between him and MC. What I don’t like though is the same old “you have to crack through LI’s icy exterior to get an ounce of genuine respect” thing. I see why they’re doing it because hockey and the whole fire and ice dichotomy of it all. But if they wanted to make a hockey book at some point, they shouldn’t have used this trope in practically every other romance book they’ve written and even some of the non romance ones.

Also, if PB were actually as groundbreakingly diverse/inclusive and woke as they think they are, this would’ve been a great opportunity to make subtle commentary on the state of sports entertainment and how race plays a huge role in the treatment and perception of a player. But knowing PB, the best we’ll get on that is 1 or 2 throwaway lines in a forgettable chapter, especially because the LI is race customizable to begin with. And even if they wanted to do more, I wouldn’t trust them with it anyway. So for me I’m more upset about how we’re most likely just gonna get another boring, shallow book with too much focus on MC’s hardened nipples and fire crotch despite there being bits of promise elsewhere

[gtgbabie0]

-Vi x Reader

Synopsis: {Date night gone slightly wrong but in the right type of way}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

!!-18//MDNI-!! Enjoy my lovelies 💕

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Vi was hotheaded, it was as simple as that, no matter how many times she laughs off the comment whenever you call her out for her behaviour, It was undeniable. The way she took the bait every damn time, which landed her with bruised knuckles and tiny cuts on her face, was almost impressive— she didn’t take shit from no one and you swear it would come back and bite her on the ass one of these days.

“Just sit still.” You tell her, pushing on her shoulders to keep her down on the kitchen chair with a small huff to which she groans in response.

It was meant to be a nice night, the pair of you going down to a bar in Zaun for a couple of drinks— and it was all dandy, to begin with… until some drunk idiot started running his mouth, sending Vi off on one.

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.” She shrugs, looking up at you with those powder blue eyes of hers that make your heart skip a few beats and butterflies flutter in your stomach. But you wouldn’t give in to her… not yet at least.

“That doesn’t make me feel better Vi.” You reply sternly, standing in between her legs as you tend to the nicks that were peppered over her face— the bridge of her nose and her bottom lip.

The sound of your tone makes her slouch back into the chair, a small pout pursuing at her lips as she rests her hands over the curves of your hips— sliding them across your ass that was accentuated by that tight dress, she just wants to rip it right off.

“Come on baby, please… I’m alright.” She tries once more with such a soft almost pleading tone as she grazes her fingertips along the backs of your thighs— trying to not so obviously pull you down on her lap, she just wanted to feel you against her, to kiss those pretty frowny lips of yours.

“Stop trying to distract me so I can clean you up properly.” You tell her with, your brows cinched together in a mixture of concentration and faux anger, trying to be as stern as possible despite how much you just want to cave in and let her run her hands all over your body.

Vi groans once more, for what has to be the one hundredth time tonight, letting you move her head to the side with your fingers curled around her jaw— wincing slightly when you press the antiseptic wipe to a small cut above her eyebrow.

“And you’re not ‘fine’ or ‘alright’.” You add under your breath, noticing the small cut on her lip not to mention her split knuckles that you still had yet to tend to.

She looks up at you with an unimpressed expression, clearly not a fan of your reprimands. “I just wanna kiss you,” she whispers roughly, letting her hands run along your curves slowly.

Vi knew she couldn’t convince you to drop it but maybe she had a better shot at persuading you…

“No, it’s your punishment for not behaving tonight like I asked you to.” So that would be a no.

It was all so unfair in her eyes, the guy was being a complete dick anyway. She drew the line at insults being thrown at you and that asshole completely catapulted over the line so in her mind it was only fair for her to catapult her fist into his ugly mug… she’d do it again without hesitation.

Vi’s blue eyes flicker up to your face as you press the antiseptic wipe to the cut on her lip but her mind isn’t focused on what you're doing— not when you’re leaning so close to her with your cleavage on show, that dainty necklace of yours dangling in front of her face and your sweet perfume that wisps around her, tantalising her.

It was so unfair.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” She points out, glancing at your chest as your fingertips press into her cheeks. “Shovin’ your perfect tits in my face.”

A small smirk ghosts against your lips at her mumbled words as you lean over her to rummage through the first aid kit, looking for nothing imparticular, just wanting to really give her a face full of your boobs— her fingertips dig into the fat on your hips in response, a slight warning.

“Yeah?— well you should’ve kept your fists to yourself.” You scold her, leaning a little closer just to tease her.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been a prick to us, baby.” She rebuts, grunting at your movements. “Was askin’ for a punch.”

“Do you know how much trouble—” you go to start again, keeping that stern tone that you so stubbornly refuse to drop and she’s just about had enough, her patience wearing impossibly thin.

Without a second thought, she’s standing up from the chair, immediately reaching out for you by your hips and pulling you back towards her— she relishes in the gasp you let out as she pushes you up against the kitchen table, looking at her with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Let’s get you outta this pretty dress, yeah?” She breathes, pushing a curl of your hair behind your ear before holding your face to keep you from turning your head— her thumb brushing along your bottom lip.

You fold almost immediately, it’s a little pathetic in all honesty, how quickly you nod your head with a glint of desperation in your eyes, mumbling a small, “Okay.”

Finally, after far too long spent humouring you she steals that sweet kiss she's been longing for. Her lips slotting in between your own like they were made for her, slow and greedily, with her tongue running along your bottom lip and into your mouth.

Your fingers grasp her shoulders, slipping into her hair in an attempt to ground yourself as she trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck— paying extra love to the special spots that have you arching into her toned body.

It all feels so dizzying as if the world was spinning on its axis— that familiar heat of excitement pooling in your lower abdomen, sending a tingle down your spine which is only accentuated by the feeling of her fingertips grazing along your spine as she tugs on the zip of your dress.

“There she is…” Vi mutters into the crook of your neck, pulling back only slightly to watch in awe as the silk of your dress ripples down your curves, to pool at your waist leaving your bra-clad chest on display.

The sight sends a tingle through her body, her fingers instantly brushing over the delicate lace. Vi can’t help herself, leaning forward to nip and kiss along your collarbones and across your chest. “My pretty, pretty girl.” Her words muffled slightly by your cleavage.

It felt so indescribably good, the roughness of her palm caressing along your inner thigh so agonisingly slow that it makes you whine— the sound sends Vi’s heart into a frenzy and even though she wants to make you wait for it as payback she just can’t.

Her hand dips beneath your dress as you instinctively spread your legs from where you’re perched on the edge of the kitchen table, leaning back on one hand as the other cups the back of her head— you tighten your grasp on her hair as her fingertips brush along the damp fabric of your panties and you can feel her smug smirk against your shoulder.

“Did it turn you on baby?— seeing me beat that guy up?” She whispers huskily, kissing up along your throat to brush her lips against the curve of your jaw.

“Yeah, yes, Vi… turned me on,” You breathe the confession, tilting your head backwards as an invitation for her to leave more kisses against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Mm, can tell— you’re fuckin’ drenched.” The words are whispered against your ear, a sense of pride bursting through her chest and bleeding through her tone as she continues to rub you over your underwear.

Vi pushes the wet fabric to the side, her fingers brushing through the coarse hairs of your mound and across your wet slit, coating her fingertips with your essence before pushing them against your clit— rubbing slow circles against you.

She whispers praises into your skin as she continues to leave marks all over your chest— her free hand unclasping your bra with ease as she continues to toy with your sensitive bud. “So fuckin’ wet, huh?” she mutters, drinking in the sight of your breasts.

You let out a breathless moan, whining some words that she can’t make much sense of— but she’s sure you’re just mindlessly agreeing with her, nodding your head as she kisses along your chest.

Vi dips her ring and middle fingers into your wet heat, pushing them deep up to the knuckle as your slick walls clench around her digits— curling them with slow deliberate strokes to draw out more of those sweet moans from your pretty lips, your hips bucking up into her hand.

You let out a pleasured cry as your clit catches on the heel of her palm, grinding a little more desperately against her to feel it again. “Oh baby, such a fuckin’ greedy girl f’me.” She chuckles, flicking her tongue across your nipple as she continues to slowly pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, the squelching of your wetness drives her insane.

“Gotta taste you— need your pussy all over my face babe.” With that, she’s tugging your panties off and dropping to her knees, causing the dining chair to fall over but she can’t bring herself to care, not even in the slightest, especially when you’re spread out on the kitchen table looking so delicious.

Vi grabs a handful of the fat on your thighs, holding them apart before practically nuzzling her face against your sex— her tongue licking a wet stripe along your folds, sucking and kissing at your clit, causing your hips to stutter against her mouth in reckless abandon.

“Feels s’good— oh Vi!” you whimper, one hand curling at the edge of the table and the other still buried in her hair.

She moans into the sensitive flesh about how “fucking amazing” you taste, her hands sliding from your thighs to press down on your hips in an attempt to keep you still— which in all honesty turns out to be a little pointless because you’re so possessed by the pleasure she’s giving you she’s pretty certain you don’t actually have control of your body.

Especially when her nose prods against your clit as she teases your needy hole with her tongue, lapping up your taste— drinking from you like you're some sort of fountain of healing. She could drown in you and die a happy woman.

“That’s it, baby, grind on my face.” Vi concedes, letting out a low chuckle into your wetness whilst she runs her tongue all over your cunt— dipping it inside your entrance as she brings her thumb to circle your clit. “Cum f’me baby, fuckin' drench my face with it..” she groans, feeling you get closer and closer until you’re tugging on her hair to bring her impossibly closer, grinding your pussy all over her mouth to chase after that high.

Vi drinks up your orgasm, every last drop until your hips stop rocking and your back lays flat against the oak table with a whimper— eyes fluttering close with a trembling breath. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh before pulling back, her lips and chin glistening with your release as she stares down at you with a lazy smirk.

“Fuck Vi—” you breathe, letting your legs drop over the edge of the table as she rubs your hips soothingly.

“Think you can make it upstairs?” She teases, watching as you push yourself to sit up— your arms looping around her shoulder as she steals a kiss from your lips, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“Mhm, if you carry me.” You whisper the words into the kiss and without missing a beat she’s hauling you up, your legs wrapped around her waist as she carries you up the stairs, far from done with you yet.

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[katiascraft]

“If you were my boyfriend. And I was your girlfriend. I probably wouldn’t see nobody else” | LN4

Parings: Lando Norris x female!reader.

Summary: you’re ’just a friend’.

Now playing: “Boyfriend” by Ariana Grande and Social House.

Word count: +1,8k

Warnings: language. Insinuating a bit I guess. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. (I do what I can) . Not proofread.

Authour’s note: I felt ugly so I wrote about being desired I guess (?) Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

You opened your eyes and snuggled in the sheets of your apartment. The sun was coming in through the window you forgot to close last night. Well, you didn’t have time to close them because Lando was desperate to get inside you. And to be fair, you couldn’t wait either.

He was still asleep. You smiled looking at his gorgeous embrace so peacefully. His eyelashes are so long and beautiful. You were obsessed with his eyes. He was snoring softly.

You reached your phone at the bed table and realized it was already late for the launch meeting you had with kika and alex. You groaned, annoyed already by the fact you had to hurry. And that indicated not being able to do makeup or choose an outfit properly. You got close to him and decided to wake him up by giving him little soft kisses all over his pretty face. Obviously he woke up by the second kiss but he pretended to be asleep just to get more from you. You tightened his grip to you and finally gave you a peck on your lips. You both smiled.

“Good morning pretty boy” you said almost in a lovely whisper. He smiled wider and gave a kiss to your cheek now. “I gotta go asap unfortunately so get up lazy ass” you said quirky in a grin getting off bed getting into the bathroom to get ready. He laughed a little and got up too. He got dressed and waited for it to be his turn to get in the bathroom. He didn’t wanna leave but he couldn’t say anything. You were just friends right?

30 minutes later you were in his car listening to Taylor swift and singing. Just having fun, enjoying each others company. You loved the fact Lando knew all of your fav songs and that he sung them with you. He has the real fanboy potencial. And you loved that. Maybe you loved him but you couldn’t think about it because you were just friends, right?

He stopped the car by the restaurant where your meeting was gonna be. Alex and kika were already there. He looked at you in a sweet smile and you returned it.

“Hope you have fun, pretty girl but don’t be too pretty because men could steal you from me” he said using his arrogant and possible yet sweet attitude as if he was your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes funny, shaking your head.

“Now that you say that I will, you know? I’m so lonely” you pouted provoking and he made an offended face. “I’ll need some help, you know. So good luck on your day, don’t have too much sex! Remember sex education class. Being a slut is no good baby.” you joked to him while getting out of the car. You closed the door to look at him one more time through the open window with a smile. He was red. You threw him a kiss and winked. “Don’t miss my moans too much” you said to finally turn and get into the restaurant and say hi to your girlies.

He laughed nervously and headed home. You had this effect on him. He couldn’t describe it. But he really would go nuts if someone else touches you. He gets mad just by thinking about it. And he didn’t know why he felt like this.

(…)

The music was pumping. Your short dress was getting a little up and up by the beat of the music. You were dancing with a really handsome stranger who approached you at the bar. You were very drunk by the way. Tequila shots and vodka weren’t a good combination. The temperature was high so you were seating a little. This man grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close. Now your body's friction. You looked at him. You were horny already. And you couldn’t think properly so you kissed him. It was a hot kiss and very steamy. And you were enjoying it so much.

Lando couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you eating that other man alive in front of them. That’s the way you should be kissing him. Jealousy took over him. He didn’t know what to do. So he took the first girl he saw that could be free for him and took her to the dance floor. Right. Next. To you. He looked at you while this girl was dancing on his body. He wanted for you to stop kissing that man. To not make it obvious he paid attention back to the girl he actually didn’t know and followed her tempo and movements.

When you stopped kissing that man or so you thought because he went down your neck pressing steamy kisses on it. You could feel his tongue giving you chills. When you opened your eyes you saw Lando looking straight through your soul. You didn’t push away the dude. You just continued, eyes locked on him. A smile formed in your face. This was mad hatter vibes. You two were fucking crazy. He was dancing with this girl and you found it so hot. You were grabbing his dude’s hair the way you used to grab Landon’s. He didn’t smile back at you though. He was furious. And turned on as hell.

You both didn’t know how much time you spent like that. Just looking at each other while at the same time being possessed by others.

(…)

When the party was over you had Lando’s jacket on covering your frame and keeping you warm while walking to his mclaren a few blocks away from the disco. You weren’t talking but the tension was high.

“You shouldn’t be kissing other people” he spitted disgustedly. You knew he would eventually mention something about what just happened.

“Well technically Lando we are just friends so why wouldn’t I kiss other people?” You said straight forward, confused by his complaint. “You were the one who said ‘we can’t be something rather than just this’ so what are you complaining about now?” You imitated his voice. You felt confused but also mad. Because you loved him and you hated that you couldn’t be together but now you already could accept it and he asks that. Apparently you couldn’t win against him.

“It just makes me so mad. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much. Your pretty face should only beg me for kisses” he said, messing his hair anxiously. You laughed. “Why are you laughing?!” He said now more relaxed that it wasn’t gonna be a serious talk. Should it be though?

“Because you’re so sexy when you act like this to be honest. So what are you saying it’s that I can only be a how with you, that’s it?” you said funny but in a twisted way you loved how that sounded. He laughed but nodded.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to only say yes to me and be with me and fuck with me and kiss me, only” he remarked me every time he said it while getting closer to you and grab you from behind so he could kiss your neck and feel your body warmth against his. You laughed, feeling flustered. you stopped walking so you could grab him by his neck and kissed him wildly. It was a needy kiss. You were begging him to shut up actually. You didn’t want to think about what he said too much. You knew it was impossible you two could be serious.

(…)

The flashes were leaving you blind. You couldn’t see where you were stepping. Lando was holding your hand guiding you through the media outside the restaurant you too had dinner with the other drivers from F1. You didn’t expect they would come. But gossip spread like fire through the internet. You knew this was a terrible idea. You didn’t want people to know about your existence at all. You finally got into Lando’s car and had so much anxiety you felt a bit dizzy. He got out of there as fast as he could.

“I’m so sorry y/n. Are you okay bb?” He asked, stroking your tight gently with his hand. You nodded, breathing deeply to calm down.

Silent was the only sound in the car that night. You didn’t know how to navigate the fact that now to the world you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend but to you two you were just friends. Everything was so confusing and complicated.

After a few months you stopped having dates with other people because you weren’t interested anymore in anyone but Lando. And he did the same. But you didn’t talk about it. You just enjoyed time together but never addressed the important stuff.

What you were? How did you really feel? Did you love each other? Were you playing? And why did you act like you were when you weren’t? Why couldn't you bare thinking you could see other people and enjoy it as well? If you weren’t nothing why did you feel you were everything for each other?

(…)

It was a Sunday morning. Monaco’s view in January was so beautiful. You were sitting by the balcony in Lando’s house having breakfast cuddling and talking. It was cold. You loved winter so much. You always used to say that it made you feel more beautiful than usual. Lando always used to laugh about it. He thought you were always so perfect. His favorite things were your eyes. So green or blue or gray. You had the weather eyes. Or something like that people call it. Secondly he adored your laugh and smile so much. Making you laugh was his favorite hobby of all time. He didn’t realized you were talking and he hadn’t listened a bit.

“You okay Lan?” You asked softly, a little worried because he just zoned out. He nodded in a smile.

“Sorry I got lost in your beauty. You look like an angel in the sunlight y/n. Let me take a picture so I can put you as my wallpaper” he said, making you giggle a little. You posed for him nervously and he took so many pictures. Your eyes are so full and so green. Your smile beaming. Your hair is so shiny. “You know… I was thinking that maybe you could be mine?” He said without even thinking twice. Words slipped out of his mouth before he could catch them. The question took you by surprise at first but then you just nodded. You adored him so dearly.

You wanted this everyday. Just him and you against the world.

“Of course I could baby boy. I’ve been already yours for a long time” you said softly making him smile widely and you leaned for a kiss.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[nhlclover]

HO HO HO! COLE CAUFIELD

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x cole caufield

summary: cole draws the short straw and has to dress as santa claus for the team party

warnings: mentions of kids + habs players

wc: 1.32k

notes: fic nine of my twelve days of christmas! sort of inspire by how jeremy swayman would dress up for linus ullmarks kids. i just know cole would be so engaged with those kids, pretending like he hates it but he's actually having fun being dressed as santa

The party was already in full swing by the time you and Cole arrived, the low hum of conversation layered over bursts of laughter and the occasional shriek of children playing tag around the towering Christmas tree in the center of the room. The festive energy in Nick and Caitlin’s home was contagious — the twinkling light, the faint scent of cinnamon and pine, and the gleaming smiles of the players and their families made the room feel alive.

Cole, beside you, was decidedly less enthused.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, his hand resting lightly on your back as you navigated through the crowd. “It’s not fair that just because we don’t have kids, I automatically have to be Santa this year.”

“That’s not the only reason and you know it. You were the one who lost the bet.” you pointed out with a grin, enjoying his simmering annoyance far more than you should. “Besides, you make a cute Santa.”

He shot you a flat look, though the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Santa’s supposed to be, like, jolly and old. Not…” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Whatever I am.”

“Grumpy and young?” you teased, leaning into him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the kids will love you.”

His response was a low grumble as you slipped into the guest room where the Santa costume was laid out, along with a fat suit to help Cole mimic the jolly old man's build.

“Get changed, Claus,” you said, giving him a playful nudge.

With a dramatic sigh, Cole began to change into the suit. You could hear him muttering something under his breath about “team spirit” and “ridiculous traditions,” but you knew he’d go through with it. That was just Cole — he’d complain all he wanted, but in the end, he always showed up.

A couple of minutes later, after struggling to pull the red garments on, Cole had become Santa Claus. The red suit hung awkwardly on him, and the faux beard was slightly askew, revealing the shadow of his jawline. His hair, always a little too wild to fully cooperate, stuck out from under the Santa hat. And yet, somehow, he made it work — or maybe that was just the biased opinion of someone who was hopelessly in love with him.

“Ho, ho, ho,” he deadpanned, his voice as flat as the look he was giving you.

“Perfect,” you said, grinning as you adjusted the beard slightly. “You’ll have the kids lining up in no time.”

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped into the main room, the children noticed Santa’s arrival. A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by excited shrieks and a mad dash toward Cole. A wave of tiny hands tugged at his sleeve and bounced around him like he was a celebrity.

To his credit, Cole softened almost instantly. His shoulders dropped, and though he still looked a little awkward in the suit, a patient smile replaced the scowl. He sank into the oversized armchair that had been prepped for Santa, leaning back with a sigh.

One by one, the kids lined up to share their Christmas wishes. One girl asked for a Barbie dreamhouse; a little boy rambled enthusiastically about a remote-controlled dinosaur; and Hudson Matheson earnestly requested a new puppy even though you could both see Mike and Emily mouthing “NO” from across the room.

You leaned against the doorway, trying to contain your grin. There was something inexplicably heart-melting about watching Cole interact with the kids. He wasn’t trying too hard — just enough to make them feel heard and special.

At one point, David Savard’s young boy piped up, “Santa, you’re kinda short.”

The room fell silent for a split second before a ripple of chuckles from the adults broke the tension. Cole’s head turned slowly toward you, his expression deadpan, though his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. You could practically hear the sarcastic remark forming in his head, but instead, he leaned down toward the boy.

“Short?” he asked, lowering his voice like he was letting the boy in on a big secret. “That’s just because the North Pole has less gravity. Makes us all a little taller up there. But when I come down here, I, uh, shrink a bit.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to process this information. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied with the answer. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as Cole shot you a quick, triumphant smirk.

The questions about the North Pole kept coming. “How do reindeer fly?” asked one little girl with bright pigtails. “Is it true elves don’t sleep?” asked another. Cole handled each inquiry with surprising ease, weaving a tapestry of whimsical explanations about reindeer protein shakes and elves who take “snow naps” instead of sleeping.

The more you watched, the harder it became to ignore the growing warmth in your chest. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, simply watching your boyfriend interact with the kids, but eventually, Nick sidled up next to you, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Gotta admit,” he said, grinning as he watched Cole answer yet another question, “he’s better at this than I thought he’d be.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, he’s pretty great.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You’re totally swooning right now.”

You didn’t bother denying it. How could you, when Cole was sitting there, surrounded by a crowd of giggling kids, wearing a Santa suit that somehow made him even more endearing?

Eventually, Nick stepped in to relieve Cole of his duties, telling the kids that Santa had to get back to the North Pole to work on the gifts they’d requested. Cole waved goodbye, returning hugs to the tots who came and hugged his hip. You slipped out of the room shortly after Cole did, going back to the spare room he used as a change room. When you entered, Cole was slumped down on the bed, the fake beard askew and the Santa hat sitting crooked on his head. You approached him, grinning as he peeled off the beard and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

“Well?” he asked, his voice tired but still laced with a faint hint of amusement. “How’d I do?”

“Adorable,” you said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “You might’ve just saved Christmas.”

Cole groaned dramatically, though the corners of his mouth curved upward. “Great. From now on, I’m Santa every year, huh?”

You laughed, sitting beside him. “Oh, absolutely. You’re a natural.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching as if suppressing a grin. “You know, you were staring at me pretty hard back there. Almost like you were… enjoying the whole Santa look a little too much.”

Heat crept up your neck. “What? No. That’s—”

“Oh, no need to be embarrassed,” he cut you off, leaning back with an exaggerated stretch. “If you’re into jolly old men in red suits, who am I to judge?”

“Actually,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting, “I’m more into what’s under the suit.”

His eyes fully opened now, the exhaustion replaced with something sharper, warmer, as his gaze fixed on yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice dropping just slightly, invitingly.

You leaned closer, one hand settling on his thigh, the grin on your face softening into something more intimate. “Yeah,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Grumpy, young, and ridiculously good with kids? That’s the real magic.”

He looked at you for a beat, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he teased, but his hand slid up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Even when he’s wearing a fat suit.”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, the festive sounds of the party fading into the background. “Merry Christmas, Cole.”

He grinned, tilting his forehead to yours. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[afterglowsainz]

sainz (55) blurb based on your most listened songs on Spotify?

also, love your writing! muchas gracias for the efforts you take to fuel ours and your delusions! sending love and hugs! <3 💌🫂

it’s normal if you feel alone and you miss me | carlos sainz

song; normal - feid

a/n: thank you so much! i’m happy to hear my delusions are being well received and i’ll continue to deliver🤭 <3

part of the spotify wrapped special

In all honesty, you shouldn’t have used Carlos the way you did. But in your defense, you were a bit broken when you met him, and it clearly wasn’t his fault. Maybe Carlos was just in the right place at the right time, while you were in the wrong place.

You also knew it wasn’t fair to give only half of yourself while he gave his all in a relationship that was born out of your desire to forget your ex. You had told him you were over him when, deep down, you knew it wasn’t true. But Carlos was a gentleman, he was beautiful—the kind of man you’d always wanted. Only, you weren’t ready. And you weren’t a good girlfriend at all.

The lies, the late-night escapades, the jealousy, and the fights were the catalyst for the end of a relationship that had been doomed from the start.

You felt awful when you had to say goodbye to Carlos, while his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

Little by little, after the breakup, you began to realize how much Carlos meant to you. How much you missed hearing his voice when you came home after a long day, or how you loved running your fingers through his soft hair while watching TV, or the simple fact of being able to talk to him every day, knowing he’d always be there to listen to you, and you to him.

You hadn’t realized that in the process of trying to forget your ex with Carlos, you had fallen in love with him—and lost him, too.

He missed you, that was clear. But forgiving you after how you treated him was hard. And could you really blame him? You weren’t the person you should’ve been, the girlfriend he deserved.

You needed to see him again, to apologize, to ask him to come back. It started with convincing your friends to go clubbing on the weekends—then the next weekend, and the one after that—all in the hope that, by chance, Carlos might walk into the same club. Your friends noticed your intentions but chose not to intervene, simply accompanying you to the nights out. When they grew tired of going out every weekend, you reached out to other friends to keep the cycle going.

One weekend in particular, while doing your makeup, you stumbled upon a photo of Carlos in Los Cabos with his friends and a group of girls you’d never seen before. The emptiness in your chest stole your breath for one, two, three seconds before you snapped back to reality. He was enjoying his life in Los Cabos while you were still here, putting on makeup for yet another night out—a routine that had become too familiar.

You ignored the sinking feeling and finished your makeup. This time, you weren’t going to the club hoping to see Carlos for the first time in weeks; this time, you were going in the hopes of forgetting him.

But your brain and heart had other plans. You felt lonely and missed him, and you accidentally called the guy you were dancing with "Carlos" as he offered you one tequila shot after another. You drank just to avoid feeling sad about missing him, though tears still slipped down your cheeks as you remembered the photo you’d seen hours earlier. The guy wiped them away gently as he continued dancing close to you.

The club was too hot, with no room to breathe, and you felt alone—you just had to get out of there. When you finally managed to separate yourself from the guy, you stepped outside for fresh air. And though you didn’t realize it at the moment, all those tequila shots had taken their toll, and you decided that calling your ex-boyfriend was a good idea.

After five rings, the call went to voicemail—until the familiar deep voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Carlos,” you slurred, a drunken smile on your face.

“Y/n? What’s going on?”

You took a few seconds to respond. What was going on? You missed him, thought about him all the time, wanted him back.

“I was thinking about you,” you simply said.

“Are you drunk?” he asked, his tone a bit more alert now.

“Why did you disappear all of a sudden?” You ignored his question. “What happened to us?” When Carlos didn’t answer, you spoke again. “I miss you. And I’m sorry.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” God, how you missed his voice. “You look happy in your photos. Why are you telling me this when you’re drunk? Why are you telling me this when I’m moving on?”

The tears didn’t take long to fall down your cheeks. Each word he said was like a little dagger to your heart, and you wanted to apologize in every language, to scream it at the top of your lungs, but all you could do was cry silently as he grew angrier with you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeated, crying. “I love you, and I miss you, and I’m sorry.”

The silence on the other end made you check if Carlos had hung up, but he was still there.

“I hope you feel what I felt throughout our entire relationship, Y/n. And I hope you never make anyone else go through what I went through with you.”

Finally, the line went dead.

[hairstevington]

call me when you get this

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are best friends, but even the best of friends have secrets.

WC: 3K

Warnings: Story told through voicemails, mild angst, coming out to each other, secret feelings, friends to lovers, kissing, swearing, light angst very brief, references to Robin and Gareth, drunk shenangians, idiots in love, set in 1991 but it doesn't matter too much, no mention of the Upside Down stuff

A/N: I have like three other WIP's happening and zero time but this idea was given to me by the beloved @tinytalkingtina in the discord and then I couldn't get it out of my head. Ao3 link here for those interested!

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 12:52am

GARETH hi yes I know it’s late but HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE ALBUM YET? I need all of your thoughts immediately. Like, all of them. Every thought. Dude, my head is spinning. Ohhh, man. Kurt is a fuckin’ legend. Woooow. Okay, I could talk about this shit for like three hours but I don’t want to run out your tape so just call me back when you get this and then talk to me about it for three hours. Can I come over a little early tomorrow? Yeah, I’m gonna come over a little early tomorrow. Maybe a lot early. Alright, catch ya then. 

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 3:40pm

Uhh, ha. Hey Steve. Thiiiis is Eddie, obviously. I, uh, I just realized I called you in the middle of the night last night on accident, and - uhh, sorry about that. It was just - ah, screw it. You know what I am. Byeeeeee-

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 7:30pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eds, how many times do I have to tell you to change your answering machine message? What if, like, the president calls? Okay, maybe not the president. But an employer or something. Or, like, what if you give the girl of your dreams your number and she calls you and hears THAT? Food for thought. Uhh, anyway, it’s fine. I wasn’t even home when you called me. Robin was, though, and so you’ll probably hear her wrath next time you come over for movie night. Good luck with that. Oh, wait. You’re at a show tonight, right? Damn. I swear I’ll make the next one. Okay, bye, dickhead. 

Wednesday, September 25th, 1991, 1:12pm

“You have reached Steve Harrington. Figured I should say that in case whoever is calling me thinks they’re calling someone else. Anyway, I’m busy right now so I’ll call you back. Bye!”

Ha, ha. You are so funny, Harrington. You ever think about being a stand-up comedian? Jesus, and you say I’M the dramatic one. Uhh, the show last night went well, by the way. Not that you were THERE. Seriously, what kind of friend even are you? I’m hurt, Steve. I’m hurt. Anyway, see you tomorrow for movie night. I get to pick. It’s only fair, right?

Thursday, September 27th, 1991, 4pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

You’re not picking the goddamn movie. No way. Last time you did that we got scarred for life. Also, um. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not about me and your shows. I didn’t realize you - uhh, you’re probably joking. Forget I said anything, and see you tonight. I’m at work right now, so I’m gonna rent some backup options just in case.

Sunday, September 30th, 1991, 2pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dustin says you were being a total dick last night. Good. That shrimp deserves to be humbled every once in a while. Your answering machine message still sucks, by the way, and yeah I’m gonna tell you every time. 

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:21pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steve. My guy. I can’t believe you make fun of me for my bullshit message all the time and now you’ve created and advertised THAT abomination?? I’m - wow. I forgot why I even called.

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:23pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Okay, I remember now. I know you said you have that date tomorrow with Heidi or Melissa or Samantha or whoever is currently obsessed with you, but I really do want you at the show if you can make it. You can bring her, if you want. Actually, it might be a good test. If she hates metal, she fails. I only want the best suitors for you, Steve Harrington. Be there or I’ll be REALLY annoying about it forever. 

Tuesday, October 2nd, 1991, 11:45pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Hey, it’s Steve. So, uh - I saw your show tonight. You’re probably not home yet, but I don’t know where you are. Cuz like, I tried to find you after your set but you disappeared. I hope everything’s okay. You sounded great, by the way. I mean, you all did. Remember me when you’re playing at the Garden? Oh also, I heard like three women talk about how badly they wanted you, so…I dunno, just figured you’d like to hear that. Hey, maybe you got with one of them and that’s why you’re not answering. In that case, hope you’re having fun? Okay, now it’s weird. Bye, Eds.

Wednesday, October 3rd, 12:54am

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steeeeeeeeeeeve. You absolute buffoon. You beautiful, oblivious man. Why’dya think I wanted you there’so badly t’night, Steve? T’wasn’t for the girls. Ha, girls. Yeah, okay. I may have had several alcoholic beverages, Steve-o, but you’re still the dumbass. Cuz you’d have to be an absolute idiot t’think I have any interest in those women. ‘Specially yours. Your women, I mean. Sandyyyyy. Ugh, she was perfect for you, Harrington. Juuuust perfect. So perfect I didn’t wanna stick around to see any more of it. I hope you two have beautiful children. Name one after me, will you? Uhhhh I think I might puke. So, I’m gonna go, but - but do you get what I’m saying? Do you - do you get it? Tell me you get it. Steve, I - Oh, hey Gareth. Do you wanna talk to Steve? Wait why are you - Dude, I’m FINE. I’m handling it! Stop! Gareth, don’t hang up the phone, I haven’t -!

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 9:05am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dude, did you fucking break into our apartment last night? Robin and I came home this morning and found a broken lock and some shitty note we could barely read next to the answering machine, and - what the fuck, man? You wiped the damn thing clean. Just - call me back, okay? Jesus. 

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 11:36am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eddie, come on. We really need to talk. I’m not - I’m not mad, honest to God. Call me back, as soon as you get this. Got it?

Thursday, October 4th, 1991, 3:47pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

It’s movie night, but I’m assuming you won’t be here considering you’ve pulled your magic disappearing act. Thanks for that, by the way. You know you really piss me off sometimes? All the time, actually. I’m getting real tired of you constantly poking fun at me, and then you pull this breaking and entering shit and just take off? Just like that? We’ve been friends for years, Eds. You and me. But you never want to just be serious, not once in your goddamn life, and I’m over it. So, uh, thanks for that, I guess. I dunno what I did. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:12pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

Huh. You know what? I kind of miss the old message you had. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m impossible to please, yada yada yada, and now I’m doing the avoiding with humor thing again. Shit. Uhh, hi. Listen, I’m sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. Really, really fucking sorry, if you can believe it. I was just, like, mad embarrassed, and I didn’t wanna - uh, can we meet up soon? Alone? Like, without Robin even? I know that’s - like, unheard of these days, but I figure maybe you’d make an exception for me. Or maybe you won’t. Just let me know, yeah? 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:30pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

See, I would just hop on over to your place to talk but the thing is, I’m a total chickenshit and it’s not like I did super well the last time I showed up to your place unannounced, so…Uhh, while we’re on the subject, I’m sorry about your lock. If you haven’t replaced it yet, I will. I’ll at least pay you back. In my defense, that thing was like two seconds from falling off anyway. But still. Anyway, I know you always spend Sundays at home, soooo…hellooooo? Come on. At least pick up the phone and tell me to fuck off. I know you’re listening. At least - I hope you are, anyway. Just pick up, man. I - I really gotta talk to you. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:37pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

So, quick update, I called Henderson. He confirmed you are at home, which means you are DEFINITELY listening, and either you’re trying to punish me or a part of you still finds my piece of shit ass charming somehow. Look, I know I fucked up, but - but I can explain. Shit. I mean, I’m not good with words or anything and I’m a total asshole but I - just, please. Pick up. Pick uuuuup. Come on. Now you’re just being a dick. Ha. Figures, I’m apologizing and calling you a dick in the same message. Dude. Seriously. Your tape is gonna run out of space and then what? You stop hearing from me? I’ll find other ways to annoy you, promise. This is a threat. Steve. Steeeeve. Pick up pick up pick up pick upppp -

“Will you just shut the hell up already?”

Eddie dropped the phone and heard it clack against the floor. He would have recognized that voice anywhere. 

He turned around and there he was. 

“Steve, what are you -?”

“You would just be yapping on that damn answering machine my whole drive here,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I expected any less. And, thanks to you, we had all the space in the world for you to take up, so -”

“H-how did you get in here?” Eddie stuttered. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s not afraid of breaking and entering?”

They hadn’t seen each other in five days. Hadn’t even talked, aside from a few voicemails. And those never told the whole story. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie began. 

“Yeah, you should be,” Steve replied, taking a step closer to Eddie in the kitchen. 

Eddie winced, his heart racing a million miles a minute. He just had to get all of the words out, while he still could. While Steve was listening. 

“I left you this really stupid voicemail,” Eddie explained. “That night, after the show. I was drunk off my ass, and - and Gareth told me I’d said shit I shouldn’t have said, and then I panicked, and the two of us went to your apartment and I - well, you know the rest.” He slumped down into the chair at the dining room table, putting his head in his hands. “Which is all just so dumb. And I didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath, so…”

“So you stopped talking to me?” Steve said, taking another step closer. “Because you thought that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in our friendship?”

Eddie shook his head. “I dunno, I -”

“You’ve done some real weird shit over the years, Munson,” Steve continued. “Sneaking into my apartment doesn’t even make the top three.”

Eddie buried his face in his hair. No amount of boyish charm would get him out of this one. Jesus H. Christ. 

He sighed. “Okay, so I overreacted, what else is new?” 

“I heard the voicemail, dickhead.”

Eddie’s heart went from breakneck speeds to stopping entirely. 

“What?”

Steve sat down in the other seat at the table. “I heard the voicemail. It was 1am, again, so yeah I was at home.”

“I thought you would have been with Sandy,” Eddie muttered.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, Sandy was - she’s great and all, but she isn’t - she’s not -”

“So you heard the voicemail, but you weren’t home when I showed up,” Eddie noted.

“Right,” Steve said. “Because I was headed to your place.”

“What?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I just - I didn’t understand why you never told me you were queer. Like, you know I don’t care about that. You know about Robin…”

As Steve talked, Eddie realized that Steve only heard half of what that voicemail was trying to express. So, it was time for Eddie Munson to face the music. 

“I didn’t tell you I’m gay because I knew that once I did, you’d figure out the rest of it,” Eddie blurted out.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “The rest of it?”

Eddie groaned. “Oh, God. See, drunk me had the right idea saying this kind of shit over an answering machine. Christ, I’m so bad at this, but I’m just gonna say it, because if I don’t I think I’ll lose my shot with you and I - I can’t deal with that. So, here we go.” He squeezed his eyes shut and powered through. “Steve, I - ha, shit. I love you, dude. I’m - I’m IN love with you. I have been since, like, forever.” He opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on their feet against the linoleum kitchen floor. “Which is, uhh, a lot, I know. But it’s the truth. So if there’s any chance -”

“Oh, my God,” Steve interrupted. His voice wasn’t angry, or scared, or anything like that. It was soft and understanding. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Wait, what are you thinking?” He looked up to see Steve staring off into the distance before meeting his gaze. 

“I’m thinking,” Steve replied. “That I owe Robin twenty bucks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and felt his heart skip back into rhythm. “You do?”

Steve nodded with a slight smile. At some point, his hand had ended up on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah, I didn’t believe her. Told her no way, not possible.”

Eddie didn’t know how to feel about this reaction. It wasn’t the worst possible response, but it certainly wasn’t Oh, Eddie! How I’ve longed for you all this time! Take me now! 

A middleground, if you will. 

“Oookay,” Eddie said. “Well, I don’t really know what to say now.”

“I’m queer too, ya know,” Steve continued.

"Wait, really?" Eddie balked. "Steve Harrington, ladies man?"

Steve chuckled. "Uh, yeah. Turns out, not so much," he said. "I feel like I’m pretty open about it. Guys, girls, whatever -”

“Yeah, but we all do that,” Eddie reasoned. “Me, you, and Robin all talking about how hot everyone is on our movie nights. It doesn’t prove anything.”

“Except that it totally does,” Steve countered. “Because, like, what do we all have in common?"

Eddie thought about it, and he didn’t have any other defenses.

“O-okay, so you’re queer too,” Eddie said. “And the other thing I said?”

Steve took a deep breath and looked Eddie directly in his frightened eyes.

“Eds, obviously I love you too,” Steve admitted at last. “Come on, seriously? After all I’ve put up with? I’ve been waiting around for like five days for you to call, like some lovesick puppy, and the moment I heard your voice I drove here instead of picking up the phone like a normal person. I’ve got it so bad for you that Robin is sick of it, and honestly, I’m sick of it too, because I hate having feelings. It blows, dude. I swear to God, if you try to bolt again when things get tough -”

Eddie lunged forward and cut Steve’s words off with a kiss. Their first kiss, even if it didn’t feel that way. Eddie had cupped Steve’s cheek in the past while he teased him. Steve had curled his fingers in Eddie’s hair in the past the night Robin taught him how to braid. Eddie and Steve had all kinds of physical contact in various ways over the years, and it was as if all of that was just practice for this. 

Eddie broke away from Steve’s lips purely out of necessity, because he needed to catch his breath. “Okay, woah,” he said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Woah.”

Everything changed after that. But also, nothing changed at all.

-

Tuesday, October 16th, 1991, 4:12pm

“Hey, this is Eddie Munson’s phone. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”

Hi, Eds. Okay, I was wrong. This new message you have is, like, super boring. Anyway, I’ll see you at the show tonight, Rockstar. Love you. 

xx

I did have a taglist way back when but the tagging system is super annoying on tumblr, so please reblog this if you liked it and follow me or my Ao3 for other works! Masterlist is the pinned post on my page for those interested. Thanks for reading!

[fireinmoonshot]

idea for a tyler owens one shot. he broke off the relationship years ago and then you see each other again. maybe you go out for drinks and one thing leads to another. kinda inspired by the song bad idea right by olivia rodrigo.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request in. I'm sorry it took me like a week to get around to writing and posting. I hope you like it. I honestly had so much fun writing this one. I'm not sure how closely inspired it is by the song, but I tried my best to give it that same kind of vibe! 😊💗

You knew that going home was probably a bad idea, but it’d been years since you’d gone back and after a particularly hard couple of months, home was the only place you wanted to be – even with the threat of seeing Tyler around. That’s why, when you’d gone out with friends two nights ago to celebrate your return to town, you hadn’t been surprised to run into him.

The two of you had exchanged pleasantries, saying a quick hello before you’d headed back to your friends. You weren’t avoiding him, but you weren’t particularly interested in a conversation with him either. After all, he had been the one to break things off between the two of you a few years ago. 

It’d been a fairly amicable break-up, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be best friends. Especially since you hadn’t seen him in years. 

You’d assumed that the one interaction at the bar would be the only one. That you likely wouldn’t see him again before you headed back home or before he headed off chasing storms again. Until you woke up to a text the next morning. 

It was nice seeing you again last night. Would you wanna catch up over a drink?

Every fibre of your being told you to say no, but somehow you’d texted Yes back. 

You didn’t put too much effort into your appearance or dress up to meet him at the bar he’d suggested – one you used to go to a fair bit when you’d been together. You hadn’t been there since. Tyler had seen the best and worst sides of you, so you knew he wasn’t going to care if you showed up in your best outfit or your pyjamas. 

It was the smile he gave you when you walked towards the bar and saw him waiting outside for you that made you question whether thiswas a bad idea. You pushed down the feeling in your stomach – the same one you used to get around him before. 

“So, how’s the city treating you?” Tyler finally asked when you were both sat down inside, a drink in front of each of you. “Not being tempted into moving back home?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, it’d have to take a miracle to bring me back home, I think. The city is nice. I wouldn’t call it home, but it’s as good as these days.” You decided to refrain from telling him about the stressful few months at your job, as well as some drama with your landlord. He didn’t need to know about those things.

Tyler, though, had always been able to see through you.

“It’s nice? It’s as good as home? I’m not convinced.”

You stared at him for a moment. He could still do that, even after not seeing or speaking to you for years? It felt like the time had never passed between you, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. You leant towards not, and you knew your friends would agree. 

And… was it possible for Tyler Owens to have gotten more attractive?

“How’s the team? Have you blown up on Youtube yet?” You decided to attempt to change the topic before you got off track or before you said something you’d probably end up regretting. Tyler had asked you out here tonight to catch up, not to rekindle. 

Tyler let out a long sigh, obviously irritated with you changing the subject, and then  switched, his annoyed expression breaking into a grin. “You mean you haven’t been keeping up with our Youtube channel? C’mon, darlin’, we’ve got a million subscribers and you’re telling me you’re not one of them?”

“I’m really not,” you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I don’t make it a habit to keep up with what my ex-boyfriends do, funnily enough. But I’m glad to hear the channel has worked out for you guys. I guess there’s a real market for storm chasing these days.”

“I mean, I tried to keep up with what you were doing, but Boone eventually convinced me to stop once he caught me checking your Instagram right before a chase,” Tyler laughed softly, then paused, as if he was surprised at himself for admitting that right to your face. “Anyway, Youtube is going well and the team are great. Storm season starts soon, we’re all hoping it’s gonna be a good one.”

You paused, your drink half way to your mouth. “You check my Instagram?”

“Key word there was checking, darlin’,” Tyler said. “But yeah, at the start, of course I did. I broke up with you, you left not long after. I had it in my head that I was the reason you moved away, even though you told me I wasn’t, but I still wanted to know that you were okay, that the city was all right and that you were safe.” 

The desire to come clean and tell Tyler everything about your life in the city had never been stronger. You wanted to tell him about your irritating landlord, about the way your refrigerator in your apartment kept breaking down and the air conditioning never worked, about how everyone at work kept looking down on you despite your experience, about the fact that you’d been on so many dates in the last few years since you moved, but none of them came close to Tyler. 

But you couldn’t.

Instead, you took a very long drink from your glass and then sat it back on the table. All the while, Tyler looked at you, reading you with those eyes that he could see through you with. 

“Things aren’t great in the city, are they?” He asked softly.

You didn’t have to tell Tyler anything because he already knew. 

Hearing his words, the soft way in which he spoke them, and seeing the way he looked at you, suddenly became overwhelming. This man, the one you’d been in love with years ago, the one you used to tell everything to, the one who used to be your home, was sitting right in front of you again and making you feel like you mattered again, after months of being made to feel invisible in the city.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You didn’t give Tyler a chance to respond before you were up, making a beeline for the front door, desperate to get some air. If you stayed in that bar any longer, you were sure you’d end up making a bad decision. If Tyler kept looking at you like that and making you feel like the version of yourself you were years ago, you worried you were going to become that person again. 

You let out a breath of relief as you stepped outside the bar, the cool evening air hitting you. It was still spring, the air not quite cold but nice enough to be refreshing on your skin as you walked to an emptier spot just down the street, away from the crowd which had spilled out of the bar the later it got in the night. 

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that Tyler followed you. He always wanted to make sure you were okay when you had been together, and that clearly hadn’t changed, especially with the way he’d just been talking to you. 

He sidled up beside you, making sure to give you enough space, knowing that you needed it. “Sweetheart,” he started. “I know I’m probably the last person you wanna talk to right now, but you know you can talk to me, don’t you?”

You met his eyes and nodded. 

“I know I’m your ex, but I still care about you. Probably more than I should.”

You’d never wanted to kiss a man more in your whole life.

“Why more than you should?” You asked, taking a step towards him and noticing the way the look in his eyes changed as he looked at you. 

“Because I should’ve moved on by now.”

“But you haven’t?”

Tyler swallowed. “It’s only ever been you.”

In that moment, nothing could stop you from closing the distance between the two of you, cupping Tyler’s cheeks in your hands and pressing your lips to his. Tyler was quick to kiss you back and you could tell that for the both of you, it was just like coming up for air after years of drowning without each other.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his body as his lips moved against yours, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip. The fact that you were out on a public street, not far from a crowded bar, didn’t cross either of your minds. All that you could think about was each other and the feeling of each others lips.

When, eventually, you needed to stop for a breather, Tyler rested his forehead against the top of your head, his breathing heavy. “I take it we’re not just talking tonight, darlin’?”

“Not tonight,” you admitted. “We probably shouldn’t have done this, y’know?”

“I know,” Tyler agreed. “But if you think I’m ever letting you go again, you’re wrong.”

You let out a small laugh. “I said it’d take a miracle to bring me back home, Ty.”

His face broke out into a grin. “Didn’t I tell you miracle is my middle name?”

[kamaluhkhan]

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city. 

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over. 

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade. 

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him. 

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted. 

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time. 

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off. 

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior. 

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?” 

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.” 

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch. 

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities. 

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world. 

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —” 

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips. 

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?” 

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth? 

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink. 

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done. 

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too. 

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

 “yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too. 

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside. 

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too. 

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears. 

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies. 

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories. 

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?” 

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:  

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you. 

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking. 

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together. 

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again. 

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army. 

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts. 

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back. 

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth. 

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before. 

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl. 

luke blushes. 

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you. 

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.  

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you. 

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really. 

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules. 

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further. 

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.”  with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care. 

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him. 

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind. 

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind. 

he’ll happily yield his power to you. 

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you. 

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue. 

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt. 

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit. 

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you. 

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist. 

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines. 

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin. 

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

[undeadcannibal]

imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-

*INSTANT BONER*

Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138

Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.

A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least. 

John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him. 

You went by the call sign Mouse. 

At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together. 

Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.

Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink. 

Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories. 

As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason. 

"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered... 

"Have any plans for 'em?" 

You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question. 

"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet." 

He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response. 

"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to." 

By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward. 

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home." 

With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin. 

The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces. 

Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system. 

Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive. 

Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all. 

Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again. 

"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?" 

You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so. 

Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks. 

Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily. 

"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked. 

Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--

He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos. 

He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one. 

Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes. 

"They look good on you, kid." 

Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.

Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.

The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible. 

[theemporium]

hey cece!! would like to request a violet fluff with prompt 1 and jack hughes, if you please! 🫶🏼

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

1."I can't smile at you, I'm mad."

.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

“What look?” 

“The pouty dog eyes look you always do when you know you’re wrong.” 

Jack blinked, straightening his back a little as he cleared his throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I would never do that.” 

You shot him a look. 

“Okay, so it didn’t work this time,” he murmured before he stepped towards you, a sheepish and nervous smile on his face. “Look, I’m sorry. In my defence, I didn’t think you would find out.” 

You frowned. “How is that your defence?!” 

It was stupid, really. And maybe any other day, you wouldn’t be as pissed off as you were at that moment. But it wasn’t any other day, it was today and you just had the longest, shittest day at work and the last thing you wanted to come home to was more problems for you to solve.

The problem needing solved being none other than a plate of cookies. 

You had baked them the night before for the stupid bake sale you had that weekend. Your workplace was holding a charity bake sale event and it had been a fuck load of pettiness and determination that prompted you to volunteer to make something, after a really bitchy coworker had made a comment under her breath. 

You had spent an embarrassing amount of time finding the perfect recipe and you had used your one day off for the next nine days to bake the cookies. 

You could have sworn you mentioned the cookies to Jack. You could have sworn he had listened to you rant about the cookies for hours since you volunteered yourself for the bake sale. And yet, you had come back home to find them all gone. 

In his actual defence, he had spent all day trying to remake them once he realised what he had done. But the damage had been done and Jack could barely cook on a good day, let alone bake, and now it was a mess. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” Jack murmured, his voice sincere and honest as he stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. 

“Whatever,” you murmured, nuzzling your head against his chest as you tried to fight the sniffles. But the day had been long and dreadful and this was the last straw to the weak grasp you had on your emotions today. 

“Hey, shh, no, let it out,” he murmured with one hand protectively on the back of your head. “It’s fine. We will work it out together. I promise. I got you into this mess, I will get you out.” 

You sniffled. “M’sorry, I don’t know why I am crying over fucking cookies—” 

“They were delicious cookies, to be fair,” Jack murmured as he pulled back, holding your face in his hands as he wiped away your tears. “I’d cry if I couldn’t have one either.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Stop trying to make me smile. I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.”

“But I miss your smile,” he murmured cheekily before he was serious once again. “I mean it, we are gonna make the best goddamn cookies ever and show up that coworker of yours.” 

Your lips twitched. “I guess there are perks of having a boyfriend who is more competitive than me.” 

“Hell yeah, baby,” Jack grinned. “She won’t even know what hit her when she tries those cookies on Saturday.”

.

[campingwiththecharmings]

Some Like it Hot (2)

AN: HIIIII. Right. So. Part one is here. This...diverted quite a bit from what I had originally intended but, I can't say that I'm too mad about it. 🤭 This has very little to no plot, negl.

(Un-beta’d)

Poe is your muse and you can't help but see the beauty in everything he does.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,481 Pairing: Firefighter!Poe Dameron x Photographer!F!Reader Warnings: PWP, smuffy af, p in v, idiots in love, morning sex, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

You wake gently, the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, filling the room with its glow. You smile, eyes fluttering as you stretch, allowing yourself to sink into the mattress a little. The sheets rustle beside you as Poe shifts, drawing your gaze. You take a moment to study him, splayed on his belly, your eyes tracing the soft curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, smooth brow, and stubbled cheeks. He’s a work of art, really. Just…stunning. Every inch of him is perfect, as if he’d been chiseled from a block of marble by the gods themselves. And if that wasn’t enough, he also had a heart of gold. Never in your life have you met someone so kind and caring, so ready and willing to help others. 

You’d started dating almost immediately after your encounter at your studio (quite literally that same evening), and now here you are, months later waking up with him in your bed. Maybe it’s strange but you love watching him sleep, love to watch the light from the windows play over his bare skin, love to study the way his short curls fall across his forehead. The artist in you longs to capture this moment, and you can’t help but give in. Silently, you reach over to the bedside table and grab your phone, quickly swiping the camera app open and pointing it at him. You take a few moments to get the angle just right, then click the shutter button. 

He knows, of course, knows your gallery is full of photos of him (and occasionally, him and you). That’s not to say that he really gets it though, how inspired you are by him. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just a regular guy. He’s supportive though, indulging your fascination.

Unable to help yourself, you roll toward him, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. He stirs almost immediately, his full lashes fluttering as he opens his warm, brown eyes. You smile at him, pushing your fingers through his mussed curls.

“Morning,” you greet, your voice soft as you rouse him from sleep.

He returns your smile, eyelids heavy as he shifts and rolls onto his side to face you.

“Morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. 

His eyes drop to the phone still in your hand and his lips quirk in amusement. “Taking creeper shots of me again?”

You chuckle at his teasing, your cheeks warming. “Guilty.”

He grunts, reaching over and plucking the device from your grasp. “My turn.”

“No, stop,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands. “I haven’t even washed my face yet, come on.”

He tsks, grabbing your hands and playfully pushing them away. “You got me, only fair that I get you.”

You groan theatrically, pouting at him as he sits up and quickly your phone into position. “Yeah but, I’m not you.”

He snorts, the click of your shutter reaching your ears. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you lunge, kicking the blankets away to free your legs and arms. He chuckles, moving the phone out of your reach. 

“Not all of us are as photogenic as you, Poe, just—give it back.”

He rolls onto his back laughing, your phone still clutched in his hand. “A photographer who doesn’t like getting their picture taken. Aren’t you a cliche?”

You growl, crawling over and up his torso, arm outstretched as you reach again for your phone.  “Shut up.”

His laughter becomes muffled as your chest presses against his face, the vibration sending a tiny shiver down your spine. You rise up slightly on your knees, the hand not reaching for your phone braced on his muscled shoulder. His free hand comes to rest on your lower back, steadying you as you reach. 

When you finally manage to take your phone back, he doesn't put up much of a fight, instead taking the opportunity to pull you even closer with his other hand. He nuzzles your breasts through your t-shirt, your breath hitching when his nose bumps against your nipple.

“You had ulterior motives, I see,” you breathe, the fingers of your free hand tangling in his hair as his hands slip down and underneath your shirt.

He chuckles, moving his face back from your chest as he pulls your shirt up and over your head. His hands slide up to your shoulders once you’re bared to him, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. Your lips part in a gasp, your fingers tightening in his curls, and he groans at the slight sting of his scalp. The vibration makes your hips jolt against him, your body instinctively seeking friction as desire quickly wells inside you.

You sigh his name as he releases your nipple, mouthing his way over to your other breast to lavish the same attention. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, flicking the tip of his tongue against the pebbled flesh before sucking it into the molten heat of his mouth.

Your head falls back with a moan, your phone slipping from between your fingers and landing on the plush comforter of your bed. Poe’s hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he encourages you to keep grinding against him. You can feel the hardness of his cock even through the thick fabric of his pajama pants, your need for him growing. He groans as you move, pulling back from your chest, the absence of his mouth dragging your gaze back to his. You swallow hard, the combination of lust and awe in his eyes making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He pulls your mouth back to his then, licking into it languidly, as if he has all the time in the world. You melt into him, your bare chests pressing together as you wind your arms around his neck. You let yourself get lost in his kiss, in the soft, wet slide of his lips as they brush against yours. It feels like you’re drowning, drowning in a sea of bliss, a sea where Poe is your only lifeline.

Poe slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, his thumb briefly circling your clit as he slips the others lower. He works you open gently, your cries of pleasure muffled by his lips and tongue. He brings you to your peak quickly, drawing out your pleasure with each pump and flick of his fingers.

You share a moan when you finally sink down onto his length, your slick heat welcoming him, engulfing him. He pulls your mouth back to his as you begin to ride him, your body rising and falling shallowly at first. His hand on your hip helps to steady you as you gradually increase your pace, your hands braced on his shoulders. 

“Poe,” you whine, throwing your head back as you chase the pleasure racing through you. “Feels so good—fuck, so good.”

He groans as he watches you, his eyes almost black with desire. “You feel like a dream, sweetheart. So beautiful like this.”

A shiver races through you at his words, at his attention. He’s always like this, so present, making you feel so desired, like there’s no one else he’s ever wanted so badly as you. He pulls you close, pressing his forehead against yours as you race toward your release, groaning as you move and clench around him. You moan when his thumb finds your clit, his touch bringing you even closer to the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathes, pushing his hips up from the bed every time you sink down onto him again. “Take what you need.”

A few more thrusts and you’re there, body going taught, mouth slack, as you sail over the edge. His moan is broken as you fall apart around him, your body squeezing him, trying to take him with you. He spills himself deep inside you with a groan moments later, his hips stuttering with the force of his release. 

You stay like that for a while, just wrapped around each other, his softening cock still sheathed inside you.  It’s comforting, having him this close, feeling this connected to him. Poe strokes your back soothingly, leaning in to press a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. You smile, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he melts into you.

“You working today?” you ask, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

He makes a noise, then shakes his head. “Nope. I’m all yours today, baby.”

You chuckle, eyelashes fluttering as he presses a hot kiss against the side of your neck. “Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notification

[bisexualbrainrots]

for my 911 what if, I once mentioned to @a-mel0n how I'd like for bucktommy's first kiss + time to happen in 3x09 because it just fitted with the theme of the episode (fallout) so I came up with this (long) snippet of their scenes from the ep (1/4). i also wrote this while sleepy so sorry if there are any inconsistencies <3

they're in tommy's place btw!

also, with some help I decided to keep the abby thing, but here it's way juicier! also yeah I'd like to tell y'all about andy sometime, he's the best.

The fridge made that sound again as it was opened, two cold beers being pulled out of it “And I’m sitting there thinking to myself “I have to run, I cannot be a second more with this guy”, that’s why I texted you, actually” 

Buck nods as Tommy gives him one of the bottles, open by the time it reaches his hands “Oh so I was just the distraction then” he smirks at the older, tilting his head, giving the beer a sip as the bottle reaches his lips and Tommy rolls his eyes, taking a sip too.

“Pretty much” he said deadpan as he leaned against the refrigerator.

His date had been horrible, and Tommy was ready to curse at one of his basketball buddies who suggested a blind date. The man wasn’t ugly by any chance, even making Tommy feel weak in his knees when he saw him, but it was his personality that made him want to run towards a cliff. The guy was negativity incarnate, complaining about anything and everything: the place was too quiet, the music wasn’t that great, the waiters were too slow, and the food wasn’t so good. But the last straw was something Tommy could never accept on anyone.

“He said he hates sweets Evan, I mean, What the hell?” Tommy moved towards the living room with Buck following him behind.

“To be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone who has the same sweet tooth as you, Tommy” Buck chuckled when the older shot him one of his looks, and shook his head as they sat on the couch.

“And it’s their loss then” he drank another sip of his beer, resting his head on the cushions “Hating sweets… What else does he hate? Rainbows? Fun?” he nudged Buck's shoulder when he heard the, very loud, laugh come out of his lips “Don’t laugh at me Evan!”

“I… I'm sorry” he had to take deep breaths to calm himself down “But you have to admit it's kind of funny that you're so worked up about a guy not liking sweets, I don't even eat them so often”

Tommy leaned in closer to Buck “That’s just because you try to get on ketosis every year, Don't forget I've seen you on cheat days too!” A second of silence happened before the two men were laughing, shoulders shaking as they tried to compose themselves again “Okay, okay… maybe I'm thinking too much about it, but it's just that I wanted my first time back in the dating scene to feel… special? I guess? I just… I wanted something good, not a date from hell” he sighed, taking another sip.

Buck tilted his head, a comforting smile on his lips “Was the guy at least cute?”

Tommy left the bottle on the coffee table to cover his face with hands and groaned as he sank his body into the couch “He was, and so hot too, which I don't know if it makes it worse that he was such a… pessimist, if I want to be nice” 

Buck whistled “Jeez, I don't want to imagine what you would call him if you weren't nice” he snickered when Tommy's fingers revealed his, very, annoyed eyes “But I get it, after Abby…” he stiffened, not knowing if it was appropriate to continue.

They hadn't really talked about Abby yet, besides that one time before Buck moved out of her apartment, and the younger didn’t know how to approach the subject either, not wanting to make Tommy uncomfortable.

The older gave him a sympathetic look, gesturing at him to continue “It’s okay, we can talk about her”

Buck took a breath, leaving his bottle on the table before speaking “After her I didn’t feel ready either, and it didn’t get any better when I realised I wasn’t the same guy I was before, like… I didn’t want to have something meaningless just to fill a void” he looked down when talking, avoiding the older’s gaze as he fidgeted with his fingers, “I’d say she was… transformative, in a way” he exhaled deeply, furrowing his brows “If I’m honest, a part me feels like I wasted so much time wishing for her to come back, and I regret it, you… You shouldn’t regret this Tommy, a bad date it’s better than stalling” 

Tommy held his shoulder for a while, squeezing a little to give him comfort “Hey, you’re better now Evan, and I could see back then how you weren’t ready to move on so, I don’t think you stalled, not really and… Thank you, for everything”

Buck lifted his head, a question in his face as he looked at the older “Tommy I… What do you mean “everything”?”

Tommy gave him a soft smile, shifting his body and resting his head on the heel of his hand “You helped me when Andy…” he took a deep breath, looking up for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to Buck “When he left, and you were the only to actually ask me how I was doing when nobody wanted to”

Buck frowned “They wanted to, Tommy, it’s just… they thought it was best for you to come to them when you were ready, Chimney almost caved once too” it was his turn to squeeze the other’s shoulder now, stroking the fabric “The only difference between them and me is that I don’t care that I get into everyone’s business” both men chuckled, the air feeling much lighter.

“Okay, but still, thank you for that I… I really needed someone then and I’m glad it was you, even though at the time it didn’t feel like it”

“Oh I know it, I had to fight the words out of you Kinard” he grinned at the older, who once again rolled his eyes at Buck, pushing his shoulder lightly. He looked at him for a while, a question popping into his mind suddenly, “Hey, can I ask you something unrelated?”

“Yeah?”

“Were you ever uncomfortable with me before I dated Abby?”

Tommy was stunned, not expecting the question, but also not understanding the point Buck was trying to make, or insinuating “Uhm, what do you mean Evan?”

Buck exhaled looking away, knowing the explanation could make it worse “I mean… I know I was a bit of a player before, new girl every night kind of guy and I fear… that it was one of the reasons you hated me so much” he brought his left leg closer to his chest, caressing the knee to soothe himself.

“Evan… I, I never hated you, not really” Tommy moved his body closer, chasing Buck’s gaze to make sure they were eye to eye “I mean, yeah, you were stupid and reckless and I really didn’t like it when you called me Thomas but real hate? I couldn’t really, and about the sleeping around thing…” he looked down for a few seconds before turning his gaze back on Buck, an embarrassed smile accompanying it “I can’t really judge when I used to do the same”

The younger’s eyes were wide open “W-what? How?” 

“Well, there’s something called dating apps, where you—”

“I know what a dating app is Tommy, I just” he exhaled through his nose, a nervous laugh coming out of his mouth “I never thought of you as the type to hookup, not that you couldn’t, I mean… but I just, you seem like such a romantic too”

And he was. Everything about Tommy screamed hopeless romantic.

“Who says you can’t be both?” he let out a short laugh, looking at Buck softly “I’ve always been in love with love I guess, it’s just, after Abby I turned to sex as a sort of self-destructive behavior” Tommy didn’t like to think about that time of his life anymore, the painful realization being too much for him sometimes “I slept with a lot of guys and I mean, a lot, but it never made me feel good or like I deserved to have anything good, it was more like a reminder that I, that I wasn’t allowed to be happy after what I did to her—” whatever he was gonna say next was stopped by the feel of two arms wrapping themselves around him “Evan?”

“I… I’m sorry” the words came like a whisper in his ear, which would make Tommy shiver in any other context but here they were overwhelming him.

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t… You never…”

“I’m sorry you felt that way, Tommy… I know I was a pain in the ass then, and I probably still am” he grinned against the skin of the older’s neck “But you deserve love, you may have hurt people but you are good, Tommy” Buck moved his head back, looking at Tommy deep in the eyes “You are a good person, even if you don’t believe it sometimes”

Tommy wanted to cry, his eyes glistening but not daring to go beyond that. For so long he hated himself so much, and let himself be used to prove that point. One-night stands that made him feel empty, bathroom and alleyway hookups that kept the momentum going, shame overpowering his body. Opening himself to love wasn’t easy, not even with a guy as good as Andy was, but he didn’t want to live in a lie anymore, he didn’t want to let hate burn him from the inside out and consume him.

Tommy gripped Buck’s back, not wanting to let him go just yet “Sometimes I think it’s funny, that my own self-hatred was projected onto many of my relationships, ours included”

Buck arched an eyebrow, intrigued “What do you mean?”

Tommy’s hands left the younger’s back almost as an instinct, feeling a heat reach his cheeks as he pulled away, embarrassment crossing his face “I… okay, don’t laugh please” when Buck reassured him he wasn’t going to he took a deep breath and leaned to take a sip of his beer, pretending it would give him courage “Alright, I… when we met I actually thought you were pretty cute, like I could’ve asked you out kind of cute”

Buck heard the record scratch in his brain, there was nothing else but those words.

‘I thought you were pretty cute’

“And that lasted exactly five seconds until you called me by my name” Tommy hid his face on the back pillows, groaning as his words were muffled by them “I can’t believe I just told you that”

“Tommy, you… you aren’t playing with me, right?” the older looked up, confused at the hitch in Buck’s voice. He looked different, something in him had changed in the way he was looking at Tommy, the older could swear he was seeing a glimmer in his eyes, but shook his head internally, thinking it must be the alcohol.

“No, why would I?”

Buck’s body shifted, his side resting on the back pillows as he leaned closer to Tommy, without invading his space “Okay, this may be funny too but… I sort of got jealous when you told us about Andy”

Tommy tensed up, a million questions popping on his mind as he locked eyes with Buck “Wait, jealous? Why?”

Buck tilted his head, a shy smile appearing on his lips “I… I started to feel like that when you probably started seeing him, y-you changed the way you behaved around me, almost as if… I wasn’t worthy of your time anymore” he remembered how it felt, that strange sensation in his chest the first time Tommy stopped fighting him back, making a passing comment instead “Now I know that’s a stupid way of thinking of course, but, I didn’t realise how much I secretly liked getting your attention”

Tommy looked at him wide-eyed, a thought— a desire crossing his mind “My attention?”

“Yeah I guess so” he chuckled, a soft look in his eyes and a warm grin settling in “I… I was so envious of how easy it was for Andy to get your atten—” suddenly all thoughts were replaced with static when he felt the older’s fingers grab his chin and pull him in.

Tommy was kissing him.

Tommy Kinard was kissing him, on the lips. And Buck was returning it.

It was so gentle and sweet, warmth flowing through their bodies as the few seconds the kiss lasted stretched until it felt like hours, hours none of them wanted to end. Tommy’s hands were in different places, one resting on the younger’s chest while the other landed safely on one of the thighs, simply laying there. Buck’s hands were another story, not knowing where to put them, they gravitate around Tommy’s shoulders tentatively, never landing them anywhere before the kiss broke.

Buck opened his eyes first, looking at Tommy like he was from another planet, and with that a light-switch turned on his brain, a realization with it.

When Tommy’s eyes opened he saw a vision: a pair of glassy blue eyes looking back at him, pink lips agape, and a blush across the cheeks he desperately wanted to kiss now.

“Like that?” his mouth was faster than his head, letting him say things unfiltered.

“Yeah… yeah, that works” Buck was dumbfounded, one phrase crowding everything inside his brain: kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

Tommy gave him one of his scrunchy smiles, the ones Buck had only seen directed at the older’s ex, and he felt good about it. He felt like he was the object of Tommy’s attention, and that was making him feel giddy inside, yearning to keep that going for as long as the older would want to. Buck got closer, their chest almost brushing the other’s.

“So that was okay?” the older asked, and Buck just wanted to jump him and join their lips again, but he held back even though his skin was itching with want.

“Tommy that was… better than okay, I…” Buck’s brain was officially scrambled, trying so hard to make neural connections and actually work to get the words out “I want to— I need to… God, I can’t think straight” he chuckled, leaning his head on Tommy’s shoulder, who proceeded to sink his fingers into his hair, playing with it. Buck was actually in heaven.

“Metaphorically or literally?” he let out a small laugh when Buck admitted to both, and let him lean back to look into each other’s eyes, Tommy’s hand traveling to cup the younger’s face “Hey”

“Hey”

Tommy nudged their noses together, enjoying the moment without getting to kissing just yet. There was a tenderness in the way he was treating Buck that he had never once tried on him before, and it was giving them whiplash. All the time disliking each other didn’t matter, not when Tommy had just changed Buck’s entire life.

“Tommy…” the neediness in Buck’s voice left the older feeling like all the air was out of his lungs, not knowing how to breathe properly.

“Yes, Evan?” The hitch in Tommy’s voice was making the younger feel like his skin was on fire, desperately wanting the other to put it off.

Buck gave him a peck, and then another, and another one as they leaned on the cushions, Tommy’s head resting on the armrest. Buck deepened the kiss, the feeling of Tommy’s wet tongue driving him to the edge in a matter of seconds, nothing else existing. The younger cupped the older’s face with his hands as the kiss continued, looking more like a makeout session at this point. He bit the other’s lower lip, getting a soft moan out of Tommy.

“I need… I need… more, Tommy, I want more” he said between kisses, and sighed against the older man's mouth when he felt his fingers digging inside his shirt, settling on his waist.

“I want that too, but… Are you sure Evan?” Tommy had to ask, even though he just wanted to have Buck all to himself and touch every inch of his body, a heat settling in his belly.

Buck nodded, a playful smile on his face “I’m sure, I want, I only want you now Tommy” and that did it for him, next thing he knew Buck dived back in, their tongues fighting as the younger started to grind against him, sighing with content.

If there was anything like Heaven, Tommy knew he must be in some version of it. And he was loving it.

[mother-na]

Yandere Policeman!Gojo X Reader X Yandere Policeman!Geto!

A one-shot set in a world where Jujutsu Sorcerers are replaced with a police unit and Curses are just a nuisance. With Gojo and Geto as policeman, you're bound to be caught somehow, since you're a mischievous curse! [Fem Reader]

Warnings!: Dubious Consent, Oral (both F and M receiving and giving), pet names (sweetheart, little curse), virgin reader, spit roasting, praise kink, lmk if I’m missing anything!

MDNI

NOT proof read or edited

You've been having so much fun! Being a human is a boring experience. You have to work to eat and then you just sleep, but not when you're a curse!

As a curse, you just run around, stealing whatever food you want and sleeping where ever you please. What does it matter? Nobody can see you anyway!

Or so you thought. Lately you've been staying in a mall. During the day you eat all the food in there, pet the animals in the pet shops, and ride the kiddy trains with the kids! And then you get to sleep in the mattress store with the poor night shift worker!

You know you haven't been well behaved, but to think that somebody would call the police!

You planned to stay and exploit the mall and leave at the first sign of danger, but you'd accidentally met them and changed your mind…

It was late at night and most people had already left. You'd figured you'd grab a muffin, one of your favorite treats, but sneaking through the staff hall, you'd noticed a handsome man staring at you.

His ridiculously blue eyes caught you off guard for a few reasons. For one, who has eyes that blue? And for two, why were they looking at you?

It took you a moment, but you soon realized that this man was of the policemen sent to subdue you.

You didn't run though. You thought maybe you could trick him into not killing you. Though most policemen just drive away curses instead of killing them.

But you've just about the seductive skill of puppy because rather than doing something flirtatious like flipping up your skirt you… jumped.

Yes jumped, like a dog getting ready to play, your legs firm on the ground and your back bent forward. Which, to be fair, as a curse you've never been able to understand sexual behaviors. You're just a mischievous curse, nothing more and nothing less.

Though, to your surprise, the man didn't have a negative reaction or one of even surprise. Instead, he gave half a chuckle, before mirroring you movements.

He jumped and leaned over just like you were, spreading his legs just like yours.

You couldn't help yourself after that! He's was basically inviting you to play!

You gave another little jump, and he jumped to, an amused smile in his face.

“You're so playful, for a curse,” The man spoke, his hands on his knees, “very human as well.”

You didn't quite understand what he meant, you couldn't look in mirrors or take photos of yourself so you've no idea you look human.

Still, you couldn't help but giggle. He should just shut up and play with you!

You turned your back on him, looking over your shoulder and swaying a little, inviting him to chase you.

“You wanna play? You sure?” the man chuckled, a boyish grin on his face, “Silly Curse, you don’t really think you have a chance, do you?”

You'd thought it'd be fun! And you were very very wrong for a bit there.

The man turned out to be significantly faster then you. You only got away because you morphed through the floor!

It was so scary! One moment it was all fun and games and the next his footsteps are right behind you! You could hear him panting and breathing, his large slender hand hovering just behind your neck.

Terrifying!

You'd thought he was the only one there that night, but you were wrong about that to!

As you caught your non-existent breath and drank some apple juice from one of the kitchens, you were caught by yet another one!

It was only thirty or so minutes later, just how fast were these guys moving?

“I guess Satoru was telling the truth.” a smooth voice spoke from behind you, almost making you drop your juice in surprise.

You huff, why are these people doing this? What jerks.

Taking another drink of your juice, you stick your tongue out.

“Aren’t you childish? Come here.” The man with black hair spoke, soothingly almost, stretching out his arms like he was inviting you.

You knew exactly what this was! He thinks that just because your a little childish that he can just beckon you and you'd listen! Stupid!

With a cocky attitude, you took steps back.

Right into the other’s arms.

Hooking his surprisingly thick arms underneath your armpits, trapping you against his chest. Was the blue eyed one from before!

“Geez Suguru, you almost scared her off! Scary~!” the man holding you teased.

The other man, Suguru, approached, ready to exorcise you, “Lets just hurry this up.”

You held your breath, preparing for your seemingly inevitable end.

But it never happened.

With sudden force, the man holding you lifted you with his arms under your pits, effectively swinging you to his side so his partner couldn't kill you.

“Or~ we can do something else!” the white-haired man proposed.

Suguru’s face changed to one of disgust, almost comically, “Whatever you about to suggest, please think it through…” the man basically pleaded. Poor guy must deal with his partner's nonsense often.

“I propose that we let this curse run around for just a little~ while longer. You know how the higher-ups are, they know we're the best so they plan to have us running errands till we drop, not that we’re at any risk of dying to curses like these~,” the man nuzzled his face playfully against yours, or perhaps it was meant to be condescending?

“So you just want to shirk your responsibilities then?” Suguru surmised.

“Right on the money~! Come on, you can't tell me it doesn't sound tempting.” the man squished his warm cheek against yours and gave the other man his best attempt at puppy eyes.

“C’mon, you smile too. It's your life on the line.” the white haired man spoke, to which you have an awkward smile.

Suguru looked at you two with a tired expression, pinching the bridge of his nose with light fingers.

“Fine.”

And with that, the three of you had an agreement!

It’s been couple weeks since and you’ve completely forgotten your plan to leave.

How could you not, the two policemen spoiled you! Suguru, or Geto, would give you all the attention you wanted, albeit passively.

You could lay in his warm lap and pet your head gently.

He didn’t warm up to you at first, but the more he witnessed your simple behaviors, he too could not help finding your antics amusing.

The other one, whom you discovered was Satoru Gojo, was more of a gift giver than a cuddler, strangely enough.

Sure, he was touchy, but only to tease you. Otherwise, he’d often give you snacks and treats to keep you out of causing more trouble. The more trouble, the more you convinced their superiors that you were more than they could handle.

In the day you got to lay at their feet and be fed and given attention and during the night they’d let you curl up with them in the break room.

You’d honestly thought you had something special…

“Yeah yeah… I know…. No we don’t need backup… yup, yeah. Goodbye.” You heard Gojo mumble into a phone as you eavesdropped on the other side of the door.

“They want us out of here by tonight.” Gojo relayed simply, tossing the phone to Geto who was deep in thought.

“Figures. We have been here a long time.”

“Guess so… ugh, we’ve no choice then. We’ll take care of [Reader] tonight.”

And that was all the go to you needed. You scrambled right out of there!

It’s not like you needed to eat, so you just skipped your usual lunch with the two of them.

You wanted to collect what few belongings you had but… you just couldn’t find them! Your blanket and pillow were both gone! You’ve had them since you appeared in this world.

They were nowhere to be seen! The sun was setting and the store closing… and you still couldn’t find your stuff. In the end, you had to leave it.

“[Reader]~! Where the hell’d you go…?” You could hear Gojo call for you.

Whatever, you thought, they’re planning on killing you so why should you care if they were upset about it or not, you should be upset not them!

Sneaking out to the parking lot, you sulked a bit. There were no cars in the parking lot except the one police car belonging to the duo inside tucked around the corner.

Maybe you could go pop their tires or tear up their seats! It’s not a bad idea.

Hurrying around the corner to get your measly revenge you spotted their spacious black car. It wasn’t one designed to take the arrested since they were in a curse unit so it was quite big. Kinda like a van.

Peering in the front seats it was clear who the designated driver was. The drivers seat was spotless but the passenger had some fast food wrappers at the feet of it.

The image of Gojo absolutely downing several cheese burgers in the passenger seat as Geto watches in annoyance painted a rather hilarious scenario.

Still, you’d come to tear up their car! Looking at it, it’s a fairly new and pristine black car. Though they’ll be needing a better car when you’re done!

Fazing your hand through the front door, you unlocked the door with ease and crawled in. With a sudden burst of energy, you wasted no time in dragging your mildly clawed nails across the front seat. It wasn’t as deep as you’d like, but it’d do.

As you lifted your head to see your work, you incidentally could see something in the back.

In the back of the car on the floor in a neat little pile was your blanket and pillow.

Confused, you allowed yourself to lean over the center console where the cupholders were.

Before you could even think about what it meant, a firm hand pushed your bottom, making you land face first into the back seat.

Suddenly, Gojo was straddling the center console that you were just on and holding you down on the back seat.

Geto stuck his head in through the drivers side door, seeing the damage, and sighed, “Seriously?”

Geto shut the front car door and opened the back where you and half of Gojo were, leaning and placing a knee on the leather seat to steady himself.

“What’s the matter? Running and ripping up seats, why are you so upset?” Geto spoke kindly, though you could tell he was still angry he tried his best to hide it so as to understand better.

“I heard you two talking, you were gonna go against your promise and kill me!” You growled, feeling betrayed and hurt that they’d feign ignorance.

Geto’s furrowed his eyes brows and looked up at Gojo with an angry and disappointed expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that, I’m not the one spying on people.” Gojo weakly defended himself, pressing himself against your back, trapping you underneath him entirely dramatically, pinning the blame on you.

Geto turned to you and crouched down to meet your squished face, “Don’t be ridiculous. We were never going to kill you.” He spoke in his motherly voice, soothing and honest, lifting a hand to run his large hand through your hair.

“Then… what were you going to do?” You asked, confused.

Geto simply smiled and you could feel Gojo’s firm chest rumble as he chuckled.

“This, sweetheart.” Gojo stated simply before using one of his hands to crane your neck upward before consuming your mouth in his.

It was an overbearing kiss. His body weight smooshing you and his hand gripping your chin and neck, keeping you in place.

You smell, feel, and hear him acutely.

The way his scent blanketed you and his warmth ate away at your form and the small little sadistic laughs he released when you whimpered. His fingers digging gently into your skin.

He’d not-so-carefully bite at your ghostly lips, pulling them away before returning once again to thrust his tongue down your throat or, conversely, pull your own tongue down his own throat.

So focused on consuming your lips that he’s left to pant above you, his cruel laugh turning into drunken whispers as his chest heaved against you.

“Perhaps our little curses’ cursed technique is seduction. I’ve never seen you so distracted before, Satoru.” Geto mused to himself.

Gojo unlatched himself from the sloppy kiss, panting, “Ha… I wouldn’t be surprised.” He agreed.

“I was joking Satoru.” Geto mumbled out.

“Doesn’t sound like a mere joke when you’re faced with these lips, Su-gu-ru~. Taste for yourself.”

Gojo raised his body just enough to push your upper half toward Geto and allow himself to squeeze behind you, opening the car door on the other side so he could still press against you.

Geto looked thoughtless for a moment and you almost believed he was going to deny you a kiss, but he leaned in any way.

It was a gentler start then with Gojo. Geto’s kiss was gentle and rather than pushing past your lips like Gojo had, he merely licked at them for a bit.

It was only when you shyly allowed your lips to part, curious about this new experience, did Geto lunge his tongue without warning.

Geto’s hand that held your in place were more gentle then Gojo’s. His large hands holding your cheeks tenderly.

Yet despite his gentle hand, his kiss only got harsher. As though he were trying to consume your soul from the outside, Geto stole your breath as he kissed with more determination than Gojo had.

Of course, Gojo was not still either.

As Geto kissed you with harsh love, Gojo was poking around your skirt and underwear. Your skirt was a bit shabby, old as it was, but that doesn’t really matter given that Gojo was going to pull it down regardless.

Slipping your skirt and, by extension, your underwear off you shivered as the cold air hit your now exposed pussy, a new sensation.

You wanted to ask what was happening, but honestly your stomach was fluttering with Geto and Gojo touching you like this. It made the presumed betrayal seem like a silly notion.

Gojo gripped your love hands and hips, his large hands able to wrap around both, before forcing you onto your knees.

You were about to ask why but between Geto refusing to free your mouth and Gojo’s fingers now rubbing experimental circles around your virgin clit.

Gojo’s fingers were testing their limits, feeling what ministrations made you twitch most, your hole clench in desperation. While at the start it was only half good, he quickly figure out your favorite patterns. Though, even if he hadn’t, the idea that it was his fingers touching you was enough to get you off.

You arched your back, asking for more nervously, before you felt Gojo groping your thighs, no longer touching your stimulated pussy.

But your pussy’s loneliness didn’t last long as soon after you felt Gojo’s hands’ gripping your thighs, firmly, sternly even, keeping you in place as you felt his breath on your pussy.

With an open panting mouth, like a starving man, Gojo used his tongue to swipe one very long, very slow, and very intrusive, slobbering lick across the entirety of your exposed genitalia.

Every time he drunkenly laughed at your twitching pussy with the flat of his tongue pressed firmly against your pussy you could feel the resulting hot breath reminding you just how close he was.

With just one drooling lick, Gojo had managed to use his tongue to invade every last cell of your cunt and effectively make you dumb in the head.

Your hips couldn’t help themselves, wanting to follow that long tantalizing and cruel stroke, but Gojo kept you firmly in place, his hands holding a bruising grip, refusing to give you even an extra inch of his tongue. You could only be mercilessly teased by him.

It was so mind numbing that you had to interrupt Geto’s kiss by allowing your tongue to loll out when you gasped in utter pleasure.

You babbled, wanting to ask what he was doing, wanting to know what this pleasure was, but Geto stared deep into your eyes, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“Haha… hah,” Gojo pulled away from your dripping cunt, mindlessly laughing to himself like a madman out of breath, “Suguru~, don’t tell me- hah- you’re just gonna sit there and- ha- waste that hot mouth of hers.” He panted.

Geto hummed, “Oh I’ve no plan to waste any part of our little curse. I just want to make sure we’re running at the same pace.”

Geto seemed relatively calm, but you could hear Gojo hurriedly rush to his feet, the sound of a buckle moving, “Oh trust me, I’m all ready to go.”

Geto reached out his hand and grabbed your lolling tongue between thumb and the knuckle of his pointer finger, massaging it there, “I’d say she is too.”

You’d believed Geto to be the only calm one, but as he stood up you realized that what’s in his pants is anything but calm.

From both in front of you and behind you, you could hear the sounds of belts being removed and pants being pulled down. It was a good thing the sun was just about set because what was about to happen shouldn’t be seen by anyone’s eyes.

Geto’s cock, already hard, was already wet at the tip, pre cum pearling as a sign he’d been worked up for a while now. His patience was certainly not something to gawk at.

Geto once again raised his knee to lean into the car, right next to your head so your face was against his warm thigh and, obviously, his cock right near your mouth.

“It’s simple, you just open your mouth and suck, is that easy enough for you?” Geto cooed at you, kindness in his eyes as he pet your head.

You could only nod your head. Ah~ even in such a forceful situation, Geto was so very kind.

Geto allowed you to explore his cock first, to get a handle on it.

Only just as you were lapping up his precum eagerly did Gojo decide he’d waited long enough.

His impatience got the better of him for a moment, his cock slapping against your slick before sliding the tip into your sopping cunt.

Of course, a virgin as you were, you yelped a bit at the foreign burning.

The sound of your pain seemed to force Gojo back to his senses a bit, his motion coming to a halt.

“Oh! My bad sweetheart~, I was too excited, wasn’t I?” Gojo apologized, sincerely for once, gently rubbing your legs and back soothingly.

“It’ll be okay, just take deep breaths and take me in one~ inch at a time, yeah?” Gojo leaned down to whisper to you.

“If it gets to much, just let me know, I’ll give him a good punch for it.” Geto joked.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad~.”

True to his word, Gojo took it very slow, and Geto didn’t ask you to keep pleasing him while you focused, instead praising you generously for your efforts.

“You’re such a good girl, taking it in so well. You’re so sweet.” Geto held your face against his thigh, stroking your head, occasionally gripping the hair gently.

“Hn- I’ll say. You’re more than sweet, you tasted divine.” Gojo, currently pressed down against you again, groaned in your ear, his hot breath and aroused voice reaching thickly against you, tracing a line steadily from your chin, down your neck, between your breasts, against your tender belly, and finally to your clit, offering a little stimulation.

Gojo’s cock, angled as he’d gone in, dragged steadily across your sensitive virgin walls.

Finally, as his final inch popped into you, did Gojo’s heavy cock kiss your cervix.

You, finally at ease, went back to pleasing Geto. In order to steady yourself, squished so fiercely, you held onto Gojo’s wrists as he held himself up, or barely up any way.

With Gojo now moving at a steady pace, his body sweaty above you, you couldn’t keep focusing on Geto and decided to instead take his cock into your mouth.

His taste was foreign but not at all unpleasant. And his precum was somewhat creamy and sweet!

Of course, the most distracting thing was Gojo’s merciless cock. There was now only a faint sensation of burning as your stomach and pussy exploded with pleasure like firework going off in your belly.

His pace was fast and sloppy but is strokes were lengthy. His fit body allowed him to pull out all the way to the very tip before delving straight back in, his thick head quickly meeting to gently smooch your cervix.

His length throbbed and every time his pelvis met yours there was a good chance you could feel his heart beat through his phallus. Though, you could hear his hammering heart anyhow as he pressed so firmly against you as though wished to become one with you. His wrists too, as you held them, had a quickened pace. You could feel his bulging veins against your palms.

From sadistic laughter, to drunken giggling, to now heavy pants as his face scrunched in focus. His eyes closed firmly and his mouth hanging open as he released deep quiet moans and stifled whispers of desperation into your ear.

Geto was no better. To please him, you completely negated your gag reflux against your bodies wishes and, in your need to please your sweet Geto, recklessly took several more inches of him down your throat than you probably should have.

His heart beat as could be felt. So thick in your throat that it felt as though he wished you could consume him, heartbeat and all.

Geto leaned against the cars door, his body occasionally quaking as he groaned deeply and released gasps intermittently. He had sweat glistening on his face, the hand he’d placed on your face was damp as well.

Eventually, Geto couldn’t help himself and subtly rocked himself into you, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.

Gojo too was beginning to lose pace.

And you?

You were a mess.

You were coated in their essence, your own essence was coating Gojo’s cock. And your thighs. And probably Gojo’s thighs.

You moaned with abandon, your body thoroughly stuffed in both ends as the only people you’ve known in your life rocked their body inside you.

Their rhythm became a mess.

Geto was gripping the door of the car so hard you swear he was denting it, his cock throbbing in your throat, threatening to burst. His hand was so clearly fighting the urge to grasp at yours and Gojo’s hair as Gojo has hovered so close to you that Geto was now tasked with providing a loving hand to both you and Gojo.

As for Gojo himself, he’d begun cursing, entirely out of breath, and his pace was sloppy. With clear desperation he was humping you like an animal.

Make no mistake, he was pounding you.

You’d kind of thought Gojo was the more experienced with this kind of thing, but he was so clingy and desperate that you’ve no idea where he’d gotten his previous attitude from.

He whimpered and stifled mewls but you heard it all the same.

Geto did too, which is probably why he was now bringing his other hand to give both you and Gojo attention.

As the three of you, sweaty, drooling, and loudly moaning, reached your climax Geto had gripped both Gojo’s hair and your hair.

Gojo moaned, well moaned and yelped honestly, as his cock pumped thick hot strings of cum deep into your sensitive quivering hole, collapsing on top of you.

Geto too had came, straight down your happily swallowing throat.

Geto popped his now half soft cock out of your slimy and exhausted throat as the three of you panted.

You slowly gathered your thoughts. What just happened..?

“S…So… you were never gonna… gon’ get me..?” You asked confused.

Usually Gojo would’ve responded first but you were pretty sure he was half asleep. He moved his arms to around your neck and shoulders and cuddled you close. Fairly certain his bare ass is hanging out the car currently, but he doesn’t seem concerned.

Geto laughed with half a breath, “No, sweetheart. How could we ever? We were going to take you with us.” Geto assured you, fixing his pants.

Looking back, it made sense. Your stuff was in the car and everything. How embarrassing… and to think you messed up his car.

“‘M sorry! About the car… I mean…” you apologized, burying you face into your arms, embarrassed.

Geto smiled gently, closing the car door on his side and going around the car to fix Gojo, “It’s alright. I mean, I’m mad sure, but I get it. You were fearing for your life after all.” He responded, pulling up Gojo’s pants and lifting his feet into the car so he could close the door.

Geto entered the drivers seat door, taking a seat and pulling out the car keys.

“You don’t have to fear anything anymore. We’ll take care of you, we promise.” Geto tenderly spoke, before driving you to live with your new family as your eyes fell closed.

The two of them will care for you for as long as they live, and when they die, they’ll make sure you come with them. They just love you that much.

This ain’t proof reeaadd

[murphy-kitt]

Ectober Day 7 - Unearth

Word Count: 3,082

Tags: Corpse AU, Description of Corpse, Mention of Blood & Violence

AO3

Coming to the conclusion that Phantom is the reason for Danny’s withdrawn behaviour, Maddie is forced to face the truth. Her son is dead—and it’s all their fault.

Something is very wrong with her son.

Maddie has observed it for months now, the way that something is not quite right. The frigid air that seems to be radiating from him, the pallid skin, his unblinking blue eyes. At first she thought he might’ve been overshadowed, but that ended up being dismissed as his eyes were still blue.

So, she doesn’t know what it could be. And she supposed the only way to find out is to confront him. She and Jack have given him plenty of months to say something, but to no avail.

“Danny?” Maddie’s breath hitches as she stands outside his bedroom door, her hand resting on the wood. There’s a faint rustling noise and the sound of something slamming.

“Yeah, mom?” Danny’s strained voice.

“Can I come in?” She asks, worried that she’s woken him up. He never seems to get much sleep these days, perpetual layers under his eyes.

“Uh…sure.” Danny’s voice trails off, developing into a hoarse cough. Not just tiredness, but he’s always fatigued and ill.

Maddie yanks the door open, preventing herself from the doubt beginning to form in her mind. She will confront him and she will do it now. Jazz’s voice of ‘giving Danny space’ rings in her head as she shuts the door, facing her son.

Danny is splayed out on his bed, his skin so pale she can even feel the cold radiating from him. A fever, but the opposite?

No.

“Good grief, Danny. You’re hypothermic!” Maddie reaches to press her hand to his forehead. The sudden icy contact makes a chill prickle down her spine.

“Mom! I-” He flinches back, holding his hands up defensively and blinking owlishly. This is the closest she’s gotten to him in months. Have his eyes always had the subtle greeness to them?

“What’s happened to you?” her voice trails off. None of this makes sense. Signs of ghostliness, the cold, the pale skin…yet he is still Danny. He consumes food, grows, goes to school. Doesn’t haunt Amity, or fly, or glow or show any signs of an obsession.

“I–” Danny grimaces, his hand resting on his neck, “I can’t tell you. Not now.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?! You won’t? Or is someone forcing you to stay silent?”

“A bit of both, I suppose.” He shrugs haplessly, and Maddie swears she sees a flicker of neon green. “I want to tell you. So bad. I don’t want to be lik– living like this anymore. It’s not fair. But I don’t know what else to do. Until yo– they see past their beliefs and realise the truth, then I’m stuck.”

“Danny, you need to tell me. Now.” her eyes narrow and Maddie nearly reaches out to shake him by the shoulders. What sort of trouble is he in? Someone’s threatening him to stay silent. She can see the desperation in his eyes. He’s trapped. Her baby boy desperately wants to say something, but is scared to silence.

“Who is it? Who’s threatening you like this? Did you see something?” Maybe he was witness to a crime. Murder? Drugs?

“No, Mom, it’s not like that.” Danny shakes his head, hopping off his bed and trawling across the room. The teen seems almost…dejected? Disappointed?

“Then what is it?” It’s like talking to a wall.

“Until they realise the truth and see how blind they’ve been, I won’t budge.”

“Realise the truth–what do you mean? Who needs to realise they’ve done wrong?” Maddie pleads, the confusion rattling even her scientific brain. The more he talks, the more questions arise and become more enigmatic.

“You, Mom. You and Dad are the ones who are blind.” Danny stares at her with a harshness she didn’t think he was capable of. “And until you see past your beliefs, I won’t tell you anything.”

He turns and walks out the door.

Maddie’s heart shatters.

What have we done?

—

“Get down and face us ghost!” Jack’s shout echoes through the streets of Amity Park, a shot of the bazooka following.

Phantom easily dances away from the shot, which lands and destroys a nearby building. The ghost twists to look at them, green eyes glaring with such ferocity that makes Maddie grip her gun tighter.

“Well I’m sorry that I’d rather not be shot at!” The ghost retorts, slugging a stolen thermos onto its belt. Her and Jack had been patrolling the streets, when in a rare chance, Phantom had been finishing up after another fight. Probably for territory.

“You’ve no other choice!” Maddie shouts back, strengthening her resolve as she surges forward. A green dot reflects on him as she takes perfect aim.

This is it, Maddie. This is all she’s ever wanted. To capture Phantom and stop the ghosts from terrorising Amity Park. At least by doing this, it might offer Danny some respite. He’s terrified of ghosts.

Danny… her prior helplessness returns in waves, making Maddie’s aim on the ghost falter. He stares at her with glowing green eyes, and she stares right back.

Just like Danny, even with a mischievous glower, deep down she can see the tiredness in Phantom’s eyes. That he’s sick of this too.

All the more reason to be rid of him. Her eyes narrow.

“Mads, what’s up?” Jack shouts, distracted from his shot as he turns to look at her and simultaneously fires. The shot veers off into a building, far off kilter from the intended target.

“I’m fine.” Maddie inhales, eyes narrowed. Since when did the air smell so strongly of decay? The stench is sweet and stings the back of her throat.

Holding her breath, Maddie points her ectogun at Phantom again. He’s not done anything, not tried to escape or make stupid remarks. He just remains there.

Floating. Staring.

Staring with those tired eyes.

Phantom floats down a little closer, maybe a foot or so infront of her. The aim on his chest is bright and burning, but Phantom doesn’t seem to care. Bile roses up Maddie’s throat as the smell becomes stronger.

The street is eerily silent, so much so that even Jack has put his gun down, letting it remain useless by his side.

Phantom stares.

“You need to see the truth.”

Just like Danny had said. Rage consumes her. How has he—how does he know what Danny said? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t care.

But now it makes sense. Why has Danny been like this.

Phantom’s been controlling him. Of course Danny wouldn’t say anything when Amity Park’s strongest ghost was threatening him to silence.

She looks at those eyes again. The tired green eyes. Almost pleading.

It’s just a ploy, and you know it.

Without hesitating, she points.

And shoots blankly in the chest.

Green and red everywhere.

—

She goes out at night, the full intention of finding Phantom. He’s downed and weak, lurking somewhere in Amity. It’s unlikely he has any sort of teleportation powers that can send him back to the ghost zone.

Her shot had surely been in close proximity.

In the dark, Maddie stalks the streets, trying best to blend in with the surroundings. She notes the scene of earlier that day, with the ectoplasm dully shining in the night. And then some darker patches, which make her stomach turn.

Ectoplasm and red. Ectoplasm and blood.

It shouldn’t be possible. Is it a trait carried over? If Phantom overshadows Danny for so long does Phantom get Danny’s traits too?

Danny’s got the cold, the tiredness, the green sheen to his eyes.

So Phantom would get blue eyes, warmth, perhaps a heartbeat and red ectoplasm?

Yes. That’s what it is. Phantom’s simply got red ectoplasm. It’s not blood, and the citrusy smell indicates so.

She recalls dinner time, what Danny had said. He’d been strangely reserved this time, much more than usual. He’d clenched a hand to his chest, and eaten very little.

“You deny and deny. It won’t help you. All the signs are laid out for you.”

He’d put his hand on his chest, and it’d been then that Maddie had noticed the branching scar on his left palm, disappearing down his long sleeved shirt.

A lichtenberg figure.

How’d he even get that? She thinks again, wracking her mind. There’s nothing jumping out at her, no accident or event where Danny got injured.

No. Maybe it’s not.

Rethink. Recoup.

Danny isn’t overshadowed. Why would Phantom tell you the exact same thing Danny said if he was overshadowing Danny? That would and did expose his whole scheme—and even for a ghost he’s smarter than that.

Moving away from the scene, she brings out the ghost tracker to try and find where Phantom is. There’s a trace of a powerful ectosignature up in the park.

Bingo. She thinks.

When she arrives at the park, it’s a haunting sight. The skeletons of trees are barely visible by the outline of the moon, and birds and critters chirrup in the distance. And there, on the top of the hill in the midst of the park, is a beacon of a figure.

Phantom. Careful not to bring attention to herself, Maddie puts the ectotracker into a compartment in her jumpsuit, watching the ghost’s every move.

Phantom’s hunched over, his knees tucked up to his chest. His green eyes are the brightest she’s ever seen, gazing up to the stars above. No fighting. No other ghosts.

Just Phantom, the silence and the stars.

“Have you ever thought about what's up there?” Phantom’s voice is just a whisper, yet it fractures the silence of the night.

Maddie freezes, instinctively reaching for an ectogun on her hip. She can’t do that though, not when she’s in the midst of research. What good would it be destroying the ghost that might have a connection her her son?

“You saw me?” The woman instead inquires.

“Of course I did.” Phantom narrows his green eyes before turning to look back at the sky. “Now if you’re gonna shoot me, can you at least get it out of the way or leave? I’m trying to stargaze here.”

“You enjoy stargazing?” She blurts without thinking. A ghost having hobbies? It should be impossible. All ghosts are driven by their obsessions.

Yet, here Phantom is. No other ghosts to fight and now crowds of people to cheer his heroics on.

“Of course I do.” The ghost hmphs , shooting her another fleeting look. Maddie guesses he’s getting testy about her being out of his line of vision.

Fine. She’ll bite just this once.

She’s about to talk when Phantom interrupts.

”You still haven’t realised, have you?” The ghost tilts his head in such a passive way it makes Maddie instinctively go for the ectogun. His smarmy, know-it-all attitude.

”What don’t I know?” She grits, playing along. It’s about Danny, it has to be. How they’re connected.

“You need to figure that one out yourself.” Phantom says dully, expression almost disappointed. “I can’t tell you.”

Clenching her fists, Maddie holds back the instinct to fire her ectogun again. She can’t go destroying Phantom a second time.

Is it just like Danny? That he wants to tell her, but can’t?

“I know my son is too terrified to even speak to me anymore! He was too scared because you’re threatening him.” Maddie narrows her eyes.

Phantom has the audacity to scoff, “You keep telling yourself that, then. You’ll not get anywhere if you think I’m to blame for the reason Danny doesn’t talk.”

Danny said that, too. That her and Jack were to blame for his withdrawal, that they needed to see the truth.

Maddie lets herself slump to the grass, grip on ectogun loosening. For the first time in years, she feels completely stumped.

Phantom hasn’t controlled Danny. He’s not threatened him. So what is Danny’s secret? Why the injuries, the constant absences?

“I just—“ she takes an intake of breath, trying to hold back the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, “I want to know what happened to him. It’s been so long. Danny’s so distant now, and I feel like I can never reach him.”

Out of the corner of her bleary vision, she notices Phantom watching. His posture stiffens, as if in shock.

She supposes such talk of Danny may come as a surprise to his system. After all, Phantom had to have parents once. Perhaps they were the reason for his…early demise.

There’s no doubt Phantom is a similar age to Danny. Perhaps recently dead, even.

“What about your parents?” She finds herself asking.

“Mine?” Phantom blinks, then considers. “Wasn’t one of your main theories that ghosts can’t remember their past lives?”

“Well..” Maddie feels her cheeks flush, before steeling herself, “This is your time to prove me wrong, isn’t it? Do you remember them?”

“Touché. I do.” The ghost pulls his knees up to his chest. “They were kind for the most part. Very aloof, though. Got so carried away with work that sometimes I slipped as their priority.”

And that’s just what she and Jack have done, isn’t it?

“That’s what me and Jack have done to Danny, I think.” The moment the words are out in the night, Maddie feels a sense of relief. She’s admitted it.

Never putting him first, and when she did finally notice it was too far gone. Of course Danny won’t open up to her now, given ghosts have prioritised over the past months.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

“I’m sorry Phantom. That you had to go through that, I mean. And your parents should’ve cared for you. Just like me and Jack should’ve for Danny.” She replies. “I’ll apologise to him tonight.”

The ghost gives her a crooked smile, strangely familiar. “I think he’ll know already that you mean well.”

And with that, Phantom looks back up at the stars, green eyes glimmering with reflections of galaxies. Maddie, feeling intrusive, stands up.

Hesitantly, she backs away, trying not to disturb the ghost.

But then Phantom looks at her over his shoulder. The expression is so strikingly familiar but she doesn’t know why, and stifles it down.

The starry glimmer in his eyes, the freckles sprinkled across his cheeks.

“Have you ever thought about what’s behind the portal?” His voice is gentle, steady. His aura flickers at the edges, brighter and fuzzier.

“No. We’ve never gone into the Ghost Zone.”

“Imagine it’s like the galaxy. There’s like, infinite galaxies. Just going on and on. There’s little pieces too. Sure you know that the ghost zone is through the portal, but have you ever wondered how it worked?”

She doesn’t know if she’s hearing things, but Phantom’s voice is getting weaker. His aura fizzling away like a candle on the last of its wick.

“—did you ever wonder how it switched on? What’s at the end of the endless tunnel?”

She’s not sure what’s going on. Or maybe she does. Phantoms drawling about the portal and she’s sure he’s fading—it doesn’t make sense.

“Why would we need to? We’ve never needed to know what’s behind the portal!” She responds, frazzled, “It’s just a wall.”

The strong scent of decay hits her again, making her stomach flip. It makes her nose burn, head clammy. Maddie presses her hands to her face, spluttering.

The portal. Electricity.

The decay.

“Are you sure?” Phantom's voice is echoey now, distant. “Or have you been so blind that you never saw the truth rotting behind the green?”

When Maddie uncovers her hands, the overpowering smell is gone. As is Phantom.

Only her and the glimmering stars.

—

The litchenberg. Of course.

The portal is the only damned thing in that lab with a voltage strong enough to cause such damage.

Maddie doesn’t even process coming back from the park until she yanks open the house door and runs into the kitchen.

”Mads!” Jack says in surprise, halfway through a packet of fudge, “Where’ve you been?”

Danny. Danny.

He’s in his room, has to be. She ignores Jack, dashing up the stairs, pleading that she won’t find what she thinks.

It can’t be true. None of this is right. Danny’s just...troubled. Sure, something is not right. But it’s none of this mess.

Behind her, Jack’s footsteps thump up the stairs, calling out for her in concern.

She rips the door open. Empty.

No unmade bed, or small lump of Danny under the sheets. No trash on the floor, strewn clothes.

”Is this about Danny?” Jack chatters, paling when he notices the absence, “Maybe he’s just ran off again?”

Maddie feels numb, heart sinking to her stomach. Her legs are heavy, weighted down by invisible anchors, chest feeling as fried as the portals shock.

God. The portal. That did this.

Their fault.

“Jack—it—it was the portal!” She finally manages to gasp out.

And then they’re in the lab, facing the green swirling vortex which reflects off of the tiles. Once a workplace, a sanctuary for her and Jack to make their weapons and research ghosts. Countless hours put into the Fenton brand.

How many of those are structured on lies?

Something catches her throat. There it is again, the putrid sweetness that claws into her lungs, makes her eyes water.

”Switch it off.” Maddie splutters, stumbling forward towards the green door. Once their pride and joy.

Now…

Jack presses the button. Sirens wail in her ears from the deployment.

And then they are in darkness. For the first time since initiation, the portal is still. No undertones of humming or neon green reflecting the walls.

Just stillness.

Maddie gulps, trying hold the bile rising in her throat.

”Mads…there’s something…” Jack whispers behind her, pointing directly at the back of the portal. Something small, a heap.

How long has it been here? Since the start? Just months?

Waiting. Decaying more by the day, desperately wanting them to set aside their blindness to realise what was lying infront of them the whole time.

Legs trembling, she traverses forward. The tang hits the back of her throat again, almost sickly sweet. Pasted into her memory for eternity.

And there something white juts up like a gnarled branch, gleaning slightly from the rubber material.

It’s irrefutable. HAZMAT.

And then the other, gnarled arm, withered and blackened, crisped like a branch in a bonfire. Black hair upon its head, once downy, now stiff as straw, inky as raven feathers. Skin—or what was, withered and twisted.

Eyes neither blue nor green.

Yet unmistakably Danny.

[bestalbertcamuslover]

Cynic Pt.2

Here's part 1 , part 3

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✯ pairing:  RB! Sebastian Vettel x Engineer! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

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She sat at the breakroom table, the remnants of a sandwich abandoned on its wrapper as her fingers gently turned the page of a book. It wasn’t a technical manual or a dense engineering tome, but something far more tender—a collection of love letters exchanged between a philosopher and his lover, their words brimming with yearning and passion. The book leaned open against the table, unhidden but still an anomaly in her otherwise composed, pragmatic persona. Her eyes moved slowly over the page, her expression soft, a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

She didn’t notice Sebastian approach until he was already across from her, sliding into the seat with the easy confidence that always seemed to disarm her. “What’s got you so focused?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows. His tone was playful, and she could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth before she even looked up.

She stayed quiet, letting the words on the page anchor her. She didn’t need to play into his teasing—he could entertain himself just fine.

Seb, never one to back down, craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the book’s cover. When he finally read the title, his eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. “Albert Camus, María Casares. Correspondence?” he said, dragging out the words for maximum effect. “Wait, this is what’s got you so enthralled? I was expecting blueprints, not… love letters.”

She exhaled slowly, her eyes still on the page, but the faintest flush bloomed on her cheeks. “What’s wrong with love letters?” she asked evenly, finally looking up.

“Nothing,” he said, his grin widening. “It’s just… not what I expected from you. Miss Stoic, Miss ‘I don’t believe in feelings.’”

Her lips twitched, almost smiling. “I never said I don’t believe in feelings. I just don’t waste my time on ones that don’t matter.”

Seb let out a low laugh, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “And yet here you are, reading letters from people who probably spent their whole lives pining over someone they couldn’t have.”

Her blush deepened, but she kept her tone steady. “Maybe I appreciate people who aren’t afraid to say what they feel, even if it’s not practical.”

He paused at that, his expression shifting just slightly. For a moment, she thought she might have caught him off guard.

“Fair point,” he said finally, leaning back in his chair, though his gaze remained locked on hers. After a moment, his smirk returned, softer this time. “If you’re that into love letters, though, I could write you some. Straight from the heart. Very personal. What do you think?”

Her heart jumped, and she was sure he could hear it from across the table. His words were teasing, but there was something in the way he said them that made her chest tighten. She forced herself to scoff, brushing him off with an air of practiced indifference. “I’ll pass. I’m fine with the classics.”

Seb laughed, standing and giving her one last grin as he ruffled her hair—a gesture she pretended to hate but secretly cherished. “Your loss,” he said lightly, his tone tinged with something she couldn’t quite place.

She watched him walk away, her fingers brushing the edges of the book. Her heart was still racing, and for a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if the letters she admired so much weren’t that different from the words she longed to hear from him.

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✯ authors note: I will probably do a third part.

I just thought about this while reading the Correspondence between Albert Camus and María Casares book, and idk, this came to mind.

English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3