#cost of personal chauffeur

[mercedes-chauffeur-services]

How Much Does a Chauffeur Cost?

Explore the Factors Influencing Chauffeur Service Pricing with Orgate Runners

When hiring a professional chauffeur, the cost varies depending on multiple factors. As a company known for offering luxury, reliability, and affordability, Orgate Runners in London provides a premium experience at competitive rates. In this article, we will explore the various aspects that determine how much hiring a chauffeur costs and how Orgate Runners ensures that our clients get the best value for their money.

What is a Chauffeur Service?

Before diving into costs, it’s essential to understand what a chauffeur service entails. A chauffeur is more than just a driver. While anyone can drive a car, a chauffeur is a trained professional who offers a high level of customer service, punctuality, discretion, and safety. Chauffeur services cater to various occasions, including business meetings, airport transfers, special events, and even leisurely tours of the city.

At Orgate Runners, our chauffeurs are experienced professionals who understand the importance of providing a seamless, stress-free travel experience. Our fleet of high-end vehicles, including the Mercedes S-Class, E-Class, and V-Class, ensures that our clients travel in style and comfort.

Key Factors Affecting Chauffeur Costs

Several factors influence how much a chauffeur costs. Understanding these can help you gauge the pricing structure and choose a service that fits your needs and budget.

1. Type of Vehicle

The type of vehicle you choose plays a significant role in determining the cost of a chauffeur service. Luxury vehicles, like the Mercedes S-Class, are typically more expensive than standard options because they offer superior comfort, advanced features, and a more prestigious image. For example:

Mercedes S-Class: Perfect for executive travel or special occasions, this vehicle provides a high-end experience with its spacious interior, cutting-edge technology, and elegant design.

Mercedes E-Class: A balance of luxury and affordability, the E-Class is ideal for business transfers or daily chauffeur services.

Mercedes V-Class: This spacious MPV is perfect for group travel, offering luxury and comfort for larger parties.

At Orgate Runners, we provide all these options to accommodate various preferences and budgets, ensuring that you get the best experience at a price that suits your needs.

2. Duration of Hire

The cost of hiring a chauffeur often depends on how long you need the service. Chauffeur services can be booked on an hourly basis, for a full day, or even for extended durations, such as weekly or monthly.

Hourly chauffeur service: Ideal for short trips, meetings, or special errands. At Orgate Runners, we offer competitive hourly rates that ensure you only pay for the time you need.

Full-day hire: For clients who need a chauffeur for an entire day, this option offers flexibility and convenience. This is popular among tourists, business executives, and those attending events like weddings or conferences.

Long-term chauffeur hire: If you require a chauffeur for multiple days, such as during a business trip or an extended holiday, you can expect discounted rates.

At Orgate Runners, we also offer bespoke pricing packages for longer hires, ensuring that clients receive the best value without compromising on quality.

3. Distance Travelled

The distance you travel is another crucial factor in determining chauffeur costs. Services such as airport transfers often have a set rate based on the distance between your pickup and drop-off locations. However, for longer journeys or tours, pricing may be adjusted to account for fuel, tolls, and the driver's time.

For clients looking for efficient travel around London, Orgate Runners offers a transparent pricing structure that clearly outlines costs based on mileage. Whether you’re moving around the city or traveling further afield, you’ll know exactly what to expect.

4. Special Requests and Add-ons

Certain special requests or additional services may affect the overall cost. These can include:

Event chauffeurs: If you’re hiring a chauffeur for a wedding or corporate event, you may require a more extensive service that includes coordination with event planners or additional time on standby.

Personalized tours: Chauffeur services can include guided tours of London’s most famous landmarks, requiring both a knowledgeable driver and additional time.

Child seats or extra luggage space: If you have specific needs, such as accommodating children or carrying more luggage, this may incur a small surcharge.

At Orgate Runners, we tailor our services to meet the specific needs of each client. Whether it’s a customized route, particular vehicle preferences, or event-specific requirements, our team ensures that your experience is nothing short of perfect.

How Much Does a Chauffeur Service Typically Cost?

In London, chauffeur costs can vary depending on the company, vehicle type, and the level of service. On average, you can expect the following:

Mercedes E-Class Chauffeur: Prices can start from around £50 per hour, with day rates averaging between £300-£500.

Mercedes S-Class Chauffeur: For a more luxurious experience, prices can range from £70-£90 per hour, with day rates reaching up to £600.

Mercedes V-Class Chauffeur: Group travel can cost around £60-£80 per hour, with daily rates around £400-£550.

At Orgate Runners, we pride ourselves on offering some of the most competitive rates in London. Our transparent pricing, combined with high-quality service, ensures that clients receive excellent value for their investment.

Why Choose Orgate Runners for Chauffeur Services?

When it comes to chauffeur services in London, Orgate Runners stands out for its blend of luxury, professionalism, and affordability. We offer:

Luxury vehicles: Our fleet includes the latest models of Mercedes vehicles, ensuring that you travel in style and comfort.

Professional chauffeurs: Our drivers are experienced, courteous, and trained to offer a seamless travel experience.

Competitive pricing: Despite offering premium services, we ensure that our rates are among the best in the industry.

Flexible options: Whether you need an hourly hire, full-day service, or a customized package, we cater to your specific needs.

Conclusion

The cost of hiring a chauffeur in London depends on various factors, including the vehicle type, duration of hire, and additional services required. At Orgate Runners, we are committed to providing high-quality chauffeur services at competitive prices. Whether you need a chauffeur for a business trip, airport transfer, or special event, we have the perfect solution to meet your needs.

For more information on our pricing and services, contact Orgate Runners today and experience the difference of a professional chauffeur service.

[rensylph]

>>> 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒

< yandere zhongli x reader ( MAFIA AU ) >

You and two of your friends decided to go to a club to party and the start of your semester in the nation, teyvat. You got drunk and woke up naked in a grand mansion and a man holding your waist and nuzzling against your chest. You thought this would be a normal one night stand and will not be in contact with you but turns out the man has other plans

Warning : implied sexual intimacy, age gap, drinking

Imagine waking up in a hotel suite bigger than your apartment with someone nuzzling close to you, your clothes are scattered around the bedroom, an aching sting in your body lowest parts, a box of empty condoms And the worst hung over in your life.

When you were about to gather your clothes and leave before the person woke up, a hand grabbed your wrist preventing you.

The man has beautiful long locks of brown hair, ember eyes, handsome face features, and a well built body with tattoos of a dragon in his back and arms. Dang you struck gold.

He introduced himself as zhongli, he asked for you to stay a little longer and he will order room service

It was awkward to be honest, you did ask some questions about him but he always gives out a vague answer. As if he's trying not to reveal too much, you didn't pry about it though since he is just a one night stand plus you're in a foreign country there's a high chance you're not gonna see him anymore in the future.

He told his chauffeur to pick you up and drive you home. He seems very well known in the hotel staff every time they pass him they would greet him, it felt awkward of course.

His driver arrives and introduces himself as xiao and he opens the door to the car for you, before getting in he grab your wrist and put a note of his number saying that he had fun and wish to experience it more than one time and then he said he gotta go due to work and you get in the car.

The car ride was quiet and xiao seems to have no intention of making conversation it was just dead silent

And when you arrive at your dorm, your best friend lumine rush towards you and tackle you asking where you were, she said that when she was in the bathroom you disappeared and was entering a limo with a fine gentleman.

You didn't think much of it, since it's college and you have to focus on it. Recently many gifts and flowers were sent from mr zhongli. He even gave you an ember necklace that cost more than tuition. It was 4 million mora meanwhile your tuition cost 1 million mora.

You ask mr zhongli to please stop sending since it causes so much and you don't want to trouble but he just shrugged it off the amount saying it was a little amount and just accepted it.

I mean you do text him often talking about you guys days and meet from time to time but it's Always in fancy restaurants that always cause a fortune to have a table and reservation.

During one of these meetings he pulled out a beautiful ring with a large jade in the front with diamond encrusted around the metal, with two dragons engraving inside the metal.

He proposed saying after you graduated from college, you and him should get married. He will offer everything to you, you don't need to live in that small cramped dorm room you can live in one of his penthouses in the city, you will have xiao drive you and your friends anywhere, instead of eating cup noodles everyday and worried about money, he will have private chefs cook your favorite food as well giving you an allowance every week for you to spend, you don't need to worry about anything just said yes and he will take care of your needs.

It all moves too fast it's been only 6 months and he already wants to get married. You rejected saying that it moves too fast and say you don't see yourself being with him in the future. You said you need space and leave not before paying for your food and tipping the waitress and Mr zhongli just sit their stunt.

For the past few days after the accident you and him haven't talk in a week thinking, you're giving him space after the rejection.

Until when you were alone in the campus garden some one hugged you from behind and whispered in your ear

"if you don't follow me or obey my orders, I will kill everyone on this campus, this is your last chance to stop a massacre of your peers, this is an order "Marry me"

[celestiamour]

₊˚✧ ❛[ every baby needs a da-da-daddy ]❜

ft. hugh jackman x f! reader — rpf

╰₊✧ some sweet softie who enjoys being home his baby little diamond toys┊1.2k words

song: every baby needs a da da daddy - marilyn monroe contains: no disrespect to hugh, this is purely fictional!! sugar daddy hugh & sugar baby reader, no smut, unspecified age gap, mentions of insecurity 

➤ author's note: happy late birthday to the daddiest of daddies & the dilfiest of dilfs! this is my first hit at writing rpf, so it might not be very good, but it was still fun to write! i’m not sure if rpf is something i’ll write again, but who knows!

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who you kept at arm’s length at first, resisting the charms and allure of an older man who promised to treat you right and seat you in his lap of luxury. you’ve never been in such a relationship before (although you’ve always entertained it), much less being with an actor with as much renown as he did, so you tried putting him off by insisting you would only accept princess treatment and wouldn’t take anything short of the best. being a little bit of a brat would either put him off because he’s too old to deal with that or entice him even more with the challenge, and he’s obviously the latter because he would be more than willing to buy you an entire castle if you wished for it. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who quickly figures out that everything you were saying before didn’t hold any weight as you’ll feel guilty if he does something as small as being a gentleman who pays for your half of the meal, so you’re just going to have to get used to being spoiled. he might even encourage you to quit your shitty underpaid day job with all the rude customers and pursue something you’re actually interested in, whether that’s becoming an artist of any sort or seeking out high education to get the qualifications for your dream job, he’s more than willing to provide for you while you work towards your goals and will reward you every time you accomplish one of them. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who often needs to leave early for work, so when you wake up in your shared bed, you’ll find a few notifications on your phone: the first being a few hundred dollars he sent for you to treat yourself while he’s gone, the second being a cute dad selfie of the place he’s at, and the third being a message wishing you a good morning with the reminder for you to take care of yourself and that he loves you. if he’s traveling for a press tour, then he’ll give you the option to go with him or not because he knows it can be exhausting, but he’s willing to fly you out to his location at the drop of a hat because he constantly misses you so much.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who likes to take you out for fancy dinners every now and then, but he really prefers to stay in and make home-cooked meals with you. he finds that making food together is more of a bonding experience than simply eating together, and loves to hug you from the back and guide your movements with his hands on top of yours as you chop vegetables or something. also he’ll only buy the highest-quality ingredients, ones that could give you an aneurysm from a glance of the receipt alone even though he thinks it’s worth the price for the better taste and health benefits. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who surprises you with expensive jewelry and beautiful custom-made dresses which cost more than what you usually would be able to make in a month. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, just drops a shopping bag filled with glittery tissue paper in front of you with a smile waiting for you to open it. feel free to gasp and smack him for making such an impulsive shopping decision just because he thought of you when he saw it, but expect him to pout and pretend to be offended. nothing is “too much” for his darling.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who acts as your personal chauffeur and drives you around in which car in his collection you want, taking you to the mall, to see a show, to an outing with friends, and wherever else you want to go. the passenger seats are perfectly adjusted to your preferences and have your things sticking out of the side compartments with his large hand being a comforting weight on your thigh, drawing circles into your skin while reminding you that you look perfect and don’t need to continuously fidget with your appearance. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who isn’t what you expected him to be considering his age. you thought he was just some old man who might have been a snob with his status, but he’s a genuine down-to-earth man. even with the salt peppering his hair, smile lines, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, and glasses, he still laughs like a young man and has a sharp mind with insightful knowledge that came with life’s experience. not to mention his godly body which you get the pleasure of watching him work on, cheering him on when he lifts weights while you stand on the sidelines or even join him. he sometimes says you help keep him young, but you know that he’s the most extraordinary man you’ve ever met.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who, although you struggle to admit it, makes you feel insecure at times. he’s hugh jackman, the wolverine, the greatest showman— someone who is larger than life while you’re just someone who met and caught his eye by chance. although he doesn’t seem to mind what others think about your relationship, you aren’t blind to it and worry constantly about ruining his image to the public eye as well as those around him who may not approve of your unconventional relationship. it seems like something built on money rather than love, and although you felt that way at first, it’s clearly grown into something more than that.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who can see right through you as soon as you start having these thoughts, don’t think you can hide it from him. he’s very perceptive and will ask what’s wrong immediately, giving you his full attention and taking any opportunity for you to run away from this confrontation. he’s an open book with you and would like it if you were with him as well, but if you aren’t ready to tell him yet, then he’s fine with giving you room to gather yourself.

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who feels his heart break into pieces when you tell him that you just don’t feel good enough to be with him. he’ll hold you and wipe away your tears which began to streak down your face once the words were out, assuring you it was never something that crossed his mind even once and how he wishes you could see how lovely you were in his eyes. anything he can do to change the way you think about this topic, he’ll do, and if you don’t think there is anything that can be done, he’ll compliment you even more frequently and put more time aside for you to show how much he really treasures you. 

sugar daddy! hugh jackman who becomes more open about your relationship when people ask about it, showing he isn’t ashamed about it and is very proud to call him yours. he’s fantastic at tearing down any negative rumors about you and deflecting criticism, protecting you by turning each question into a session praising how wonderful he thinks you are. there’s not much to it, he’s just some sweet softie who enjoys bringing home his baby little diamond toys and giving her the lavish life she deserves. 

[poppy-metal]

patrick never thought he’d be obsessed with his own wife. to him, you were everything he hated about his life and you’d represented that since he first met you.

he can still remember seeing you walk in to that restaurant where he was already sitting with his parents. you were wearing a black dress with white bows up the side and big white headband in your hair. he knew the dress had cost your father a fortune and was just off the runway because tasha had torn it apart, called it simple and meek. his impression of you didn’t get any better that night, and instead he decided he hated you more and more. it was six months before the wedding and you two were meeting for the first time and he had thought maybe you would be as angry as he was about it all. instead, it seemed like you had no opinions at all or even personality. you’d tried to say something about flowers, talking about lavender and lilacs, but your mother completely dismissed you, saying that the florist had been contracted ages ago, and you didn’t do anything but smile and nod for the rest of the night.

you had no fucking backbone, and patrick hated it. it was like you were a physical representation of the gilded cage he’d grown up in. your life had been decided for you, and you didn’t care. the rules of society dictated your every move and you danced it all perfectly. how were you not losing your mind??? didn’t you want to tear it all apart and burn it down to ashes?

now though… now patrick knew you and maybe that was the problem. he could when your little smiles were fake and when they were real. he knew who you avoided at events, he’d heard your whispered complaints about your mother. it took an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to notice, but he’d finally caught on to the little insults you’d dish out to other society members. one time a woman at some charity even or another had had such a bad dye job that even patrick had noticed, and you’d asked her for the name of her salon because you wanted to be sure to remember it. the woman had been flattered and talked your ear off for half the night. the next day patrick had heard you on the phone with your assistant, making the poor kid swear to never book you there.

you weren’t like tashi. you didn’t insult people to their face or hold yourself above it all. you weren’t a fiery blaze of glory. you both had claws, but while tashi’s were always out, you kept yours hidden. you weren’t soft, but subtle. patrick had thought he needed someone like tashi, someone who had his same fire and passion. now he realized that wasn’t true.

his new favorite place to be besides the court was by your side, where he got to see your claws come out. he could never keep the smirk off his face when you played your game, and he was obsessed with the satisfaction in your eyes when you knew he caught on. he delighted in listening to you gossip as you got ready for an event or for bed each night. the vanity in his bedroom was bigger so it was where you kept your makeup and jewelry and patrick was never letting you move it into that stupid fucking guest room. the clothes he once disdained you for now made him feral, constantly resisting the urge to tear them off you.

he was obsessed with you, his wife. but you still didn’t care. it hurt more and more to leave you behind after an event, the guilt making him physically sick. tashi had called him pathetic more than once. so, he started to go home with you. he’d hold your hand as you left the venue and climb into the car after you.

“is tashi busy?” you asked one night, the car quiet and dark as your chauffeur drove you home, the city lights whisking by. you didn’t look at him when you asked, but patrick noticed how your silhouette glowed in the window.

it was the third event in a row he’d gone home with you. he finally built up the confidence to start doing it a few weeks ago.

“no idea,” he shrugged.

you scoffed to yourself, shaking your head slightly but said nothing more. patrick kept looking at you from the corner of his eye, watching your glow.

when you got home, before you could go off to your room and shut him out, patrick caught your hand, gently turning you towards him the hall at the top of the stairs. you looked up at him with a furrowed brow and skepticism written across your face and patrick did his best to ignore the pang in his chest.

“i like watching you get ready at night.” what the fuck was he doing?

“what?” you said with a laugh at the absurdity of his statement. the pang lessened and something lightened at making you laugh.

“when your doing your make up or taking it off and you talk about everyone and what their up to. who’s pregnant, who should be and shouldn’t be. who’s cheating on who with who. how much someone spent and how much they should have spent. i like listening to it.”

“oh,” you said softly. “um. isn’t that different than watching me?”

“i think im always watching you,” patrick confessed quietly.

“why would you be doing that?” you asked, voice quiet and shaky in this fragile moment.

“because,” patrick said, lifting a hand to your chin, and rubbing his thumb across the apple of your cheek. your lips looked so soft, and he want to kiss you breathless. to make you forget his every fault, and only know him in this moment as you stared up at him with something like hope. but god, he wasn’t worthy of that. he wasn’t worth passing you in the street, how could he be worthy of your kiss? of your hope in him?

“because?” you pressed.

“you’re my wife.”

patrick always knew he was a selfish man, taking what he wanted with no regard to others. but you were different. precious. there was something about this half marriage, half resentment relationship of yours that patrick didn’t want to break. he wanted it to last, couldn’t stand the thought of making you hate him again, and not see the little parts of you that you had carefully shared with him as your first year of marriage had passed.

so he made a compromise with his selfishness in that moment, and pressed his lips to your cheek. he lingered in that kiss, hoping it would sear into you as much as it did into him. he pulled back slowly, took in your wide eyes and heavy breath.

“i’m a lucky man.”

(uhhhhhhhhh, i swear this was supposed to be about their real first kiss but then it wasn’t?????? i was gonna write a second scenario where patrick sees art flirting with reader and gets possessive and then they make out angrily in a thunderstorm in a garden but then tbis was so long????)

y'all are such better writers than me holy shit

[zeltqz]

the ask was for a sanzu x fem reader nsfw and they’re both getting high together in the car and they do the thing where they bloke smoke in each other’s most and one things leads to another. But I thought it would be funny of on the middle of their sesh, ran calls and idk you could decide if he answers or not. Lol

— mile high club

ø contents: smoking, smut, possessiveness, fluff, takeomi slander ish bc i hate the mf, friends to lovers, mutual oblivious pining, akashi brothers' mentioned beefing

o word count : 7.1k.

ø notes: is it even a sanzu fic if i dont include some sort of tension and psychological explanation to do with the neglect he faced from Takeomi? no? ok anyway...

@wenumsmol 🫶🏾

The sun sets over the streets of Tokyo when you park the car in the garage of the Akashi household, having dropped Haru off at home since you’re now his designated driver because his license got suspended for reckless driving.

“We’re here.” The car shuts off when you turn the key, both hands resting on the wheel like the professional, respectable driver you are. “Now get out of my car.”

Sanzu groans from the backseat, laying flat on his back, hand splayed over his forehead, the cold heat from his hands doing wonders to soothe his burning headache. 

“Oi.” Over your shoulder, you peek at him, fighting the urge to poke him awake. “I said we’re here.”

“I know.”

“ So…get out?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t—” You bite your words, stopping yourself to give yourself time to take a deep breath, soothing your bubbling frustration before it erupts. “You don’t want to enter your own house?”

He raises a long, slender finger, pointing insistently out the window. You follow his gaze to the back corner of the garage, Takeomi’s bike perched on its stand. 

“Ohhh,” you realise, unbuckling your seatbelt to turn and face him fully. “Well..you can’t avoid him forever.”

He removes his hand from his forehead, eyebrows knitted, forehead creased as he glares at you. “Watch me.”

“I’m serious, Haru.”

“So am I.” He’s sitting up, face stern and serious, you swear his green eyes practically glow in the dark as they catch the edge of the yellow tint garage light. 

When it comes to Takeomi, Haruchiyo mainly plans on avoiding him at all costs, dodging him around the house, wearing headphones at full volume just to drown out the sound of his brother’s voice, not coming back home for days on end, rather spending the night at yours or Mikey’s house.

He’s developed different coping mechanisms : talking to Mikey is a big help, though Mikey isn’t one for therapeutic advice, he’s still willing to lend a helping ear and listen to Haruchiyo rant on and on. It’s not much help though, only hearing responses like ‘ hm ’ , ‘ oh ’, and ‘ah’,  maybe if Mikey has a little energy left in him, he’d nod occasionally, but that’s about as much help as you’d get. 

His second coping mechanism is you,  someone he’d befriended a couple months back and kept you by his side secretly ever since, using you as a personal chauffeur and a therapist, but more importantly a best friend. Someone who’d be there for him without judging him and his dirty secrets; someone who likes to be around him not because they’re scared or intimidated, but because they enjoy his presence. 

He cannot be in the right state of mind when talking to his brother, not wanting to remember their interactions in the morning, so he relies on getting stoned or drunk to wipe his memory. It’s a potentially dangerous mechanism, but Sanzu enjoys the adrealine rush of trying something new, enjoys the out of body experiences, the fuzzy feelings, the wild imaginations and visions that make his world look colourful rather than monochromatic. 

“Haru.” You call his name with that sweet voice of yours, one that makes his heart warm. “You can talk to me about anything, okay? I’m always gonna be here for you.” 

He’s looking down at his lap, mouth twisted in a way he always does when he’s deep in thought. You can’t help but wonder just what’s going through that brain of his, knowing fully that up there is a mess of unorganised feelings and emotions he’d never been able to fully process.

“Haru. Is everything oka—”

“You know what I want?” He cuts you off, changing topics with a bright smile. 

His decision to switch topics isn’t something that offends you, knowing that he takes time to fully open up and you’re willing to wait as long as he needs. “What do you want, Haru?”

“I want weed.”

“There’s no weed, wait. What are you doin—” He moves quickly, his lean body brushing past yours, balancing a hand on your lap for leverage as he reaches inside the glove compartment pulling out his stash. “What the hell! You stashed your crap in my car?!”

“Of course I did.” He cackles at the dumbfounded look on your face, moving to the backseat. “Where else would I put it?”

“Uh—I don’t know? Your room? Anywhere but my damn car! I got pulled over the other day. What if I had gotten caught and they searched my car?”

“Did you?” He shrugs half heartedly, opening the ziplock bag. Almost instantly the car smells of marijuana, your nose wrinkles as you try to process it. 

“Well, no…but that’s not the point!”

“Shhhh,” he shushes you, taking his time to roll his blunt, all the while you’re glaring at him. “Stop pouting. You should be thanking me.”

“For what?”

“This.” He licks the joint to seal it, lifting it towards you like it’s his artistic masterpiece. The smile on his face screams child proud of their school project, diamond scars stretching cutely as his smile only widens. “It’s strong. Try it.”

“It better be.” You snatch it from his hands, holding it between your teeth as you manouevr yourself to the backseat to seat beside him. 

His chin is heavy on your shoulder as he watches you light it, wanting to be as close to you as possible not only to get a whiff of that perfume he loves that you practically drown yourself in, but to see your initial reaction to the weed. 

The smoke burns your throat before you could fully inhale, coughing violently whilst pounding on your chest to ease it. Haruchiyo grabs water from the front, tossing it to your lap as you erupt in a series of coughs. “What is that?” 

“I dunno.” He eyes the joint between his two fingers, looking oddly fascinated by it. “I just heard it was strong.”

“No shit.” It hurts when you talk, still feeling the ghost of smoke searing your oesphagus. 

His spare hand hooks onto your legs, and you yelp as he swings them over on his lap, slender fingers rubbing up and down your thigh as he smokes. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t wanna.” You shift upwards on the seats, sitting on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to rest your forehead against the side of his face and shoulder. The scent of his cologne is overpowered by the marjiuana, but it’s still visible, dipping your face between his neckline and sighing. “This one is too much.” 

“Are my eyes red?” His jaw moves when he speaks, and it tickles as his smooth skin brushes against your cheek.

It pains you to move from your current position, his warmth and scent are soothing to you, but you shift back, turning the car lights on to see better. The corners of his eyes are red, and he’s struggling to keep them fully open. 

“Yeah, they are.” The urge to brush his cheeks is tempting, and your fingers twitch and hesitate by your side.

“Hey hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?” When you nod, he shifts upwards, his hand grabbing to hold onto your waist to ground you before you slip off his lap. 

The sudden contact had you stiffening, blood roaring in your ears as his strong hand held your side. You watch him perform a trick, his diaphragm contracting as he inhales, lips pursed as he exhales, several rings of smoke following suit. Your brows raise in surprise, ready to praise him when he sucks it all back in with one huge breath, the rings dismantling in the air. 

He turns back to look at you, chin high in the air, eyes tinted red gleaming as he grins at you, cheerful and animated. You can’t help it, reaching out to cup his soft cheeks with one hand, tracing over the outline of his lips, the shape of his scars with your thumb. 

It’s like he’s frozen stiff as your fingers feel up his face, and he blinks at you as you look at him with those soft eyes of yours. “You’re so cute, Haru.”

His eyes dilate; from the light in the car, or the strong weed you don’t know, can’t tell. What you can tell is that from his silence, his mind is running wild, thoughts bouncing across his brain from left to right, mirroring the way his eyes dart over your face, your lips, and the curve of your nose.

“So are you.” The words spill out from his lips faster than the blush creeps onto his cheeks. He looks away, embarrassed, clearing his throat before smoking from the joint again. “I learnt it from Ran. That useless lazy fucker is sometimes helpful.”

“Ran, huh?” Your fingers find themselves latched to the front strands of his hair tucked into a ponytail, twirling it on your fingertips. “He’s the tall one, right?”

He chuckles, short and amused, voice muffled from the joint between his lips. “All my friends are tall, ya know?”

“Well maybe if you let me around your friends, I’d be able to identify them.”

“You’ll live without ‘em,” he says, blowing smoke in your face, snorting when you cough and swat the smoke away, then try to hit the side of his face, only for him to catch your hand in time. “Your reflexes suck ass.”

You struggle to shift your hand from his grip, frowning at him. “I’m not a ninja.”

“I can teach you to be one.” 

“You a sensei, now?”

“I’m anything and everything. Like Batman.” 

He smiles when you laugh softly, the sound making him feel lightheaded, paired along with the weed flowing through his veins. “Batman is rich, though. You’re not.”

“I can steal money, all is good.” His hand, warm and hot, slides under the hem of your shirt, leaving a searing trail behind his movements that burns into your skin. “I’ll buy you anything once I get rich. Promise.”

He’s been subtly leaning closer as he speaks the whole time, but you don’t notice until his forehead brushes yours and you’re both staring at each other, daring the other to move closer.  “ Anything? ”

Green eyes fall down to your lips, not even trying to look subtle. “Anything.”

Fuck, at this angle you look so pretty, staring down at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He always feels like that around you, another reason why he loves getting high around you. It forces him to be vulnerable around you, letting the feelings he’s been shovelling down refsurface.

Though it’s risky, and there’s nothing more he fears than rejection, he’s always been a risk taker. You make him feel good with your words, your presence, your voice, the silly moments you two share alone in his car, your room, his room. 

Your lips are what he favours the most on your face, always glossy with whatever flavour lipbalm you wear that day, and he physically fights the urge to kiss them just to guess it. His eyes are drawn towards your lips like a magnet. The way you bite at them when you’re focused, chew on the skin when you’re nervous, lick them when they’re dry, he notices, and wonders how soft they truly are.

“Do…do you wanna kiss me?” Your question catches him off guard, brows knitting in confusion as he wonders if he’s been speaking his thoughts aloud this entire time, but in truth, he’s been making his intentions obvious as he’s been staring at nothing but your lips the entire time.

“Huh? Don’t be weird.” He instantly facepalms himself mentally, fighting the urge to turn back time to take back his words, but it’s too late when your brows rise, lips parting slightly in surprise before looking down at your lap with a slight frown.

“Oh, sorry. That was weird, wasn’t it?”

“It’s fine.” His heart stings in his chest, he can feel it clenching painfully leaving nothing but a hollow feeling in the depths of his stomach when he realises you’re upset. “Why’d you ask that anyway?”

Maybe he can shift the narrative, find out a way to spin the conversation back to kissing. He still has a chance. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

“I have!” The pout is back on your face, but not from being sad; he can tell the difference, so he sighs in relief. But still…the way your lower lip juts out slightly has him fighting the urge to tug and bite at it. “I’m not a virgin, idiot.”

He doesn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on his face, and you notice. “What? It’s that hard to believe someone would fuck me? Am I that ugly or something?” 

The effects of the weed start kicking in,  now you feel yourself getting emotional over nothing.

“I never even said anything.” 

“You didn’t need to. I’m not stupid, Haru.”

He flexes his jaw as he glares at you, trying to shovel his anger down. The argument is pointless, so he stays silent, bringing the blunt back to his lips. He inhales it for longer this time, and it can’t possibly be healthy for his lungs, but he doesn’t care.

“What time is it?” you ask, and his hand squeezes your waist tighter, stopping you from squirming from his lap.

“Why do you need the time?”

“Because I gotta get going at seven.”

“...why ?”

“Because…” you chirp, shifting to face him with a huge smile on your face, “I’ve got a date.” 

When you bite down on your lip, he can’t even be bothered to look down at it, or notice it. It’s silent in the car as you wait for Haru to be your best friend/wingman that hypes you, ask you for his name, height, age, job, personality, whatever. But he’s silent, face unreadable, and the tension in the car rises thick when he continues to stay silent; your excitement fades along with your smile.

He knows he’s been silent for too long, now everything is awkward, but he can’t find the right words to say. Congratulations? It’s just a date, what do you expect him to do? Find you wedding rings? 

His brain isn’t co-operating either, not in the right state of mind to process his words like a filter, so he says nothing before he says something he’ll regret.

“...Anyway,” you have to choke your words out, refusing to show your slight embarrassment, “hurry up and get high, so I can leave and get laid.”

“I am high.”

“Then I can leave.”

“No, you can’t.” He glares back when you glare at him, but he can’t find it in himself to control himself any longer. Maybe it was a bad idea to get high in a confided space with you, on his lap, with your face so close to his. 

“Why can’t I?”

“...’cause he’s a loser, and you don’t wanna get laid by a loser.”

You snort. “He’s the only loser available, so maybe I do want to.”

“What if…there’s another loser available?” He goes stiff and still when your eyes flick up to his face, looking concentrated at him eye to eye as if you were trying to decipher his words. “Me. I’m the loser.”

“You?” He simply nods and you do the opposite and shake your head. “You’re not a loser.”

“Yeah, I am.” You shift on his lap when he shrugs, leaning his head back against the headrest, and you watch as smoke leaves his lips as he exhales. 

His senses are intensified with the drugs, your fingers tickling their way up his shoulders, along his neck, to behind his head, lacing them between his soft hair. Leaning down, you hold his face in your hands and kiss him.

The moment your lips touch his, he feels like the world paused, and he’s dying to find whoever has control over the remote of his life so they could press play and he could embrace you like he deserves. Or, maybe he’s dying, and whoever is up there allows him to imagine just one night with you before he fades into nothing.

It’s real, all real. The tender slide of your lips against his are real, the sensation of his teeth sinking into your soft plump lips, biting, and nibbling at it is real, the gentle moans he eagerly draws from your lips when his tongue swipes against yours, wet, messy and sloppy is real. 

“Fuck—” you whisper along the swell of his lips, pulling away to examine his face.

He looks gone, shallow half-lidded eyes looking up at you with blown wide pupils, mouth half open as if he’s forgotten how to close it. 

“Haru, you there?” Your knuckle traces along the side of his face, stopping under his chin, lifting it to look up at you.

“Yeah yeah, ‘m here.” 

Your giggle echoes in his ears, and he’s never been harder in his life, cock pressing uncomfortably tight against his pants. “Good, because you look wasted right now.”

“Just, fuck— stop talkin’. C’mere.” He pulls you down for a kiss with a hand at the back of your head, sloppily working his mouth against yours. He tastes like weed, the smell strong but it doesn’t stop you from licking into his mouth, desperate to drive the strong taste away and replace it. 

Big, strong hands wander the length of your back, slipping under your shirt, cold hands hugging you tight, tight to his body that you can’t help but arch into him.

A sound that comes from the inside of the house has you pulling away, turning to face the window, and he trails his lips down the length of your neck. His nose pokes into the flesh of your neck as he sucks deep, red hickeys onto the plane of your neck, breathing heavily as he savours the feeling of your soft feeling of your skin. 

He could get used to this; the weed makes him feel like your skin is ten times softer, or maybe that’s how it generally feels and you’re just perfect, so soft everywhere. 

“Tak—take this off.” The words are lost to your neck as he sucks along the column of your throat, rogue hands wandering along your chest, up your shirt, kneading your tits through your bra.

“Okay, okay, wait —” When you pull backwards, he follows, leaning up from the seat, lips attached to your neck by the hip. “Haru. If you want to see me naked, you’re gonna have to let me remove my clothes.”

“Just…wait a min’ longer…” He sucks harder, and you shudder as shivers race down your body at the feeling of his teeth nibbling at the sensitive part of your neck. When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his handiwork. “You look so sexy like this, fuck.” He’s tugging your shirt off, throwing it behind you, uncaring of where it lands. 

Warm hands roam your stomach, your sides, sliding up further to wrap around your throat. “So beautiful ‘n sexy, just for me.”

“You already said sexy.” He hums absentmindedly, obviously not paying attention if the way he’s squeezing the fat of your breasts were any indication. 

“You’re sexy times two.” He grins up at you before pulling your bra cup down, and you inhale sharply when it brushes down your nipple. “No, no actually. Times infinity.”

You flush hot at his words, especially when his lips brush against your ears, biting down against the shell. He’s sweating from the heat in the car plus the heat from both your panting bodies. 

“Don’t you think we should—ah fuck—” He tugs you upwards on his lap, your clothed cunt grinding against his hard cock, hands curling into fists behind his neck. 

“We should what?” His musical chuckle vibrates along your ear, sending cold shivers down your spine, forcing you to arch to chase the feeling away. You squeal when he bites down along your ear once more, smirkingpleasantly at the soft, squishy press of your tits against his chest.

“We should go to your room. I mean there’s not much room in here.” Your neck aches from the angle you’re sitting at, neck bent at an awkward angle to avoid hitting the roof of the car. 

There’s not enough space in this crammed car to fit yourself comfortably. Haru, on the other hand, is more than comfortable, seated on the seats like a king that’s blessed the majestic view of your half naked body atop of his. 

“I got an idea,” he says, not giving you a moment to wonder what he’s thinking before he’s lifting you from his lap, plopping you onto the seats. Your forearm darts quickly to cover your chest when he pops the car door open, lips pressed together tightly as he walks to the front seat, yanks the door open without a care and readjusts the seats back, pushing it till there’s enough room between the wheel. “This space big enough for ya?”

You tilt your head past the seat, surveying the space with a keen eye. There’s enough room for you to kneel down and take his cock in your mouth without a fuss or a struggle. A bed sounds nicer though, the thought of sinking into his soft mattress as he fucks you crosses your mind, but it’s overpowered when you remember his siblings are home and you’d rather die than let them hear you.

“Seems good,” you shrug, sliding quickly out the car; the cold air from the garage AC hits you smack in the chest, hardening your nipples momentarily. 

“Ah, ah wait.” Haru pulls you back before you could climb on top of him. The cute way your tilt your head at him, confused, makes his heart do a triple beat for a moment. “I wanna try somethin’.”

“Okay…” 

It’s stressful the way he’s manouevring you along the seat, pressing your back into the front seat as he shifts to kneel between your legs. “Hold your legs up for me.”

You swallow hard, unable to taste your saliva with how fast your nerves are racing. Doing as he said, you bring your hands under your thighs, holding them up as he tugs your pants down, struggling to get them past your bent knees, glaring at you when you choke on your laugh, muttering out a quick apology. 

“Don’t apologise now. You’ll be beggin’ for it later, trust me.”

His confidence is over the roof right now, evident in his strong posture, shoulders back as he leans forward, swiping a finger along your folds with ease. 

“You’re really wet.” Your slick catches on the tip of his finger, and you want to hide your face between your hands when his pink tongue darts out to lick at it. 

“Could you maybe not do that? It’s awkward…”

He hums when he looks at you; now it’s his turn to tilt his head at you. “How else am I supposed to eat you out then?” His hands press themselves between yours under your thighs, and your back aches from almost sliding down the seat in this awkward position. “You want me to skip the prep? Fuck you into the seat right now?”

“I mean—” It sounds like a good idea, but then you remember the length and thickness of his cock through his pants and swallow excessively. “Prep please.”

He smiles at you, the car light reflecting off the side of his face as he dips his face closer, digging his fingers into the swell of your thighs, nose pressed against your folds and sniffs so hard it’s like a vacuum, your clit tingles with the need to have his tongue in you. 

“This gonna sound so weird, but I really don’t give a fuck but…” he moans as he licks along your slit, a long, wet stripe from the bottom to the top, “you taste so good, fuck—”

“Haru stop…” He seals his lips around your clit, fingernails digging into your thighs as he sucks hard, numbing your clit with the continous flicks of his tongue moving at rapid speed. “Oh my go—”

Your hands fight the urge to fly to his hair, pull him closer to grind his nose against your stubborn clit, but you remember his instructions, to keep your hands on your thighs, keep you spread open for him. 

He’s devouring your pussy like a starved individual, flicking his tongue rapidly, slurping the wetness that drips from your puffy folds. You try to close your legs, try to squirm away from the ticklish feeling of his wet tongue trying to squeeze its way through your cunt, but it’s intoxicating, and overwhelming, especially when his finger tickles against your hole.

It’s fascinating watching it go in and out, and Haru dreads pulling his mouth away from your cunt but he needs to watch your face as his finger slides knuckle deep inside you. His bloodshot eyes twinkle as he watches your slick coat the length of his finger, translucent liquid dripping down his knuckles to the seat. 

“You always get this wet?”

“I don’t know…” It’s not often you finger yourself, so the experience is first hand. You’re also partially amazed that your body managed to produce this much slick from a single finger. “Wait, wait, right there. That feels so good—”

“Here?” His finger curls inside you, itching the side of that spongy spot. 

“No, no—not there, wait—” Your hips shift to the side a little, then it’s like something switches inside you, hands shaking against your thighs as he spreads you out with a second finger, applying pressure to that spot that has your moans increasing in pitch. 

His cock twitches with the need to replace his fingers, sink himself deep inside you, watch your eyes cross as you melt in pleasure. He leans forward, slurping, sucking along the sensitive hood of your clit.

Your body feels numb, voice coming out as breathy pants as you tilt your head back to hit the headrest, giving into the warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside your abdomdem as he fingers you to your climax. 

He knows that you're close when your walls cling and squeeze his fingers tight, barely giving him enough room to move them. His own tongue slithers through your folds, lapping up the leftover slick. The taste of you is better than he’d expected, and he thinks he could live between your legs for the rest of his life. 

There’s a swell of pride swirling through his chest when he feels you lose yourself on his fingers and tongue, your teeth pressing into your bottom lip painfully as you jolt and sit up from the effects of your orgasm. Your hands forget holding your thighs up, gripping onto his hair tied up loosely in a ponytail and tug him forward, craving the warmth of his mouth sealed around your clit as your world comes tumbling down.

It takes a couple moments for you to get yourself together, still holding painfully onto his hair before letting go. He presses ticklish kisses along your thighs, licking at the wetness spread along them. 

“That was—” You swallow, trying to find the words since your brain isn’t co-operating. “That was so good.”

You look all cute when flustered, face heated and flushed, your pretty lips left open as you pant heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath. 

“Think I found my new addiction.” He grins up at you, big hands squeezing the fat of your thighs as he kneels up between your legs, wrapping them around his waist and leans in for a kiss.

Your hands cup his cheeks, holding him close to you as he licks into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, giving you a moment to gather your nerves because you’re going to need it. 

“I’m ready,” you mumble into his mouth, feeling the shiver that races down his spine.

“Bet, okay. Hold on.” He draws back, big hands spreading your thighs apart.

You look at him through your lashes as he sheds his shirt, tossing it behind you. His body is lean, capacious, abs faint but visible and your mouth waters, hand flying out to run down his stomach. Your touch is so light, his muscles flinching away from the ticklish feeling. Everything you do to him makes him feel so good. 

He grips both your hands, pinning them above the headrest. “Keep ‘em there,” he says, unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down to his knees. He grabs a condom from his back pocket, ignoring your humourless stare.

“You planned this?” You gesture at the condoms with your head. 

“Better be safe than sorry.” He bites the end of the wrapper, pulling the condom out, rolling it slowly down his shaft. 

Your eyeroll is cut short when the tip of his cock angles itself at your entrance. He can see the way you’re dripping, the slick smeared along your thighs. 

Warmth engulfs the head of his cock as he slowly pushes it in you, and he hisses, biting his lip to stop himself from thinking how good you feel, how tight you’re going to squeeze his cock, how he’s going to cum inside you—

You’re panting, the tip of his cock stretching you out, almost screaming when it pushes past, the thick head making you dizzy it carves a path inside you. “Ah, Haru that—” He pushes deeper, and his eyes roll back when you clench around him.

Haru swears, gripping onto the base of his cock, squeezing it to stop himself from cumming too quickly, pushing through the urge to shove the rest of his length inside you. He stills halfway, needing to take a moment to compose himself, his mind fuzzy and warm, and he feels lightheaded. 

He has to close his eyes, knowing if he looks down, seeing his cock between your legs, halfway inside you, he’d cum in an instant. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to wait—I can take it,” you pant, hips desperately trying to rut forward. “Please…”

He takes a moment to swallow, groaning lowly, as he pushes the rest of his cock inside you, trying to ignore the tight suction of your walls. The moment he bottoms out, he’s falling forward, dipping his face between your neck and shoulder and moans, the sound desperate and needy, causing your pussy to clench and quiver around him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, arms wrapping around his head as you hold him closely, enjoying the feeling of his breath tickling your shoulders. “You okay?” 

It’s funny how you’re asking him this instead of the other way round, and a part of you feels pride in the fact you could make someone this desperate and needy without effort. 

“I’m good…it’s just…fuck , you’re so tight.” He forces himself to inhale deeply, eyes squeezing shut painfully to compose himself. He shivers at the feeling of your nails raking up and down his hair, scratching at his scalp addictvely. “You’re good though, right? It doesn’t hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling softly at him. “Nah. The seats a little uncomfortable but…that’s about it. You can move, Haru.”

“It’s uncomfy? Oh…” You almost want to cry when he pulls out, but he’s lifting you from the seat, switching your positions, slotting you back down on his lap. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nods, biting his lip when you grab onto his cock, seating yourself down on his cock. 

“Oh my god—” You feel so full, his thick cock stretches your walls, whimpering beside his ear when he rolls his hips sensually, pressing his cock deeper inside you. 

“ Holy shit , you’re so tight.” Your pussy drives him into a frenzy, eyes threatening to roll back at the way your cunt squeezes him so tight, clinging to every inch of him. 

He swears, voice low, sounding wrecked as you begin riding him a little faster, slowly lifting your hips up and down. The obscene squelch of your pussy grasping pathetically around his thick shaft has him biting his lip so hard he might draw blood. 

“ Haru.” You wail his name, collapsing onto his chest, shuddering when his hands, rough and warm, grab onto your hips to slow your pace down. 

“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, like a whisper, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Lemme move—” You trail your lips down his neck in an attempt to soften him, waiting for him to let go of you so you can move faster. There’s a nudging spot inside you, an itch that needs to be scratched. Your attempt to move is shut down again, frustration building up and up the longer you feel his cock twitch inside you. “Haru please…”

“If I let go, you gotta promise to take it slow.”

“But I wanna make you feel good.” You whisper along his lips, tugging at it with your teeth. He groans into your mouth, and shifts for a moment, his cock follows suit, twitching desperately for some friction. “Wait, do that again.”

“This?” He rolls his hips upwards, rolls your hips backwards and forwards, and you drip a little wetter down his leg, wetting his thighs. 

“Yes. Do it again.” 

He starts a steady pace, steady enough for you to feel the way he’s deliberately aiming at that spot in you that makes you squirm around. 

“I’m so close.” He says beside your ear, his voice lingering in your head, clouded by the feeling of his hands roaming your back, scratching at it with every bounce you give him. 

“Me…me too.” 

He’s tense, gritting his teeth when you clench around him. You shift backwards, unslinking your hands from around his neck to grab at his knees, using them as leverage to support yourself as you roll your hips in circles.

He can feel the energy buzzing between you both, can feel the tingling sensation on the edge of his fingertips, the drugs running through his veins has the regular feeling of sex intensifieid, and he swears he can feel every inch of you. 

Everything is so hot right now, the temperature in the car, the feel of your hands braced against his knees, the way your nails dig into the bone, the way your tits bounce in his face as you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You clench when you cum, and he leans forward suddenly, grabbing your hips to lift you up, slamming you back down with a loud moan, hips jerking as he cums inside you. 

You’re shaking, trembling at the feeling of his cum spurting inside you, the wet sensation is ticklish, cold shivers running down your spine. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles again, holding you down to feel your greedy walls sucking him in further. “Holy fuck, I could stay here forever.”

“I need a shower.” You say once you come back to your senses, groaning softly when you lift yourself up and off his cock, the wet squelch following after echoes throughout the car. 

“That’s so hot.” He mutters, eyes wide with fascincation as he reaches out to thumb at your clit, enjoying the way you shiver and let out a soft moan as he rubs it in circles. “Holy shit that’s so hot. You’re so hot.”

“I kno—” It’s distracting when you can feel his cum dripping out from you slowly making you lose your train of thought , the drip of it is anticipating until it forms a small pool between both of your bodies. “I know.”

“You hesitated.” 

“I didn’t.”

He removes his thumb, wiping the wetness from it along his tongue, tasting you, and you feel your face flush at the action, burning hot when looks up at you, the corners of his mouth dragging up slowly. “You did.”

“Shut up.” 

Sanzu’s reaching towards the backseat for his stash, and you laugh at how his arm barely reaches it, flailing it uselessly around the air. 

“You’re not gonna reach it, Haru.”

“Watch me.”

He grunts and groans like he’s lifting heavy bricks, and you start to take pity on him. “Dude, just give up.”

“No.”

 If there’s one thing about Sanzu it’s that he’s determined, but not in the way you think. It’s more the stubborn version, always trying to do the impossible, ignoring you when you tell him it’s not possible, then sulks when he fails. 

He clicks his tongue, shifting you down on his lap so he has more room and this time successfully grabs at it. “Told you. Always hatin’ on me.”

You giggle, faint and shrill, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder, watching him dug through the contents of the bag, his slender, skilled fingers professionally rolling another blunt. 

It’s silent in the car again, you two both bask in each other’s presence. Both of you refusing to discuss what happened earlier, not sure if those sudden feelings you felt were because of the weed or if there’s something else deep inside, a false truth you’ve refused to make terms with, or shoved them aside for another unknown reason unbeknownst to you.

Your head is racing with thoughts, pictures of Haru wondering where you suddenly felt these emotions towards him came from. The thought of sharing him with anyone else angers you, but it shouldn’t because you’re both friends. The thought of him laying in a car with another girl on top of him angers you, makes you feel bitter and resentment towards this imaginary woman your brain fabricated inside your head.

It’s like your body is working against you. 

Stupid weed. 

Haru’s gone for the second time today, and for the first time in what felt like ten minutes—in actuality it was only three—you look up at him. He looks like he’s falling asleep, those chubby cheeks of his so promising, so soft, you can’t help but shift upwards, pressing soft kisses against them.

It should be weird to him  that he doesn’t question your sudden out of character movements, but then again you both did just have sex not longer than five minutes ago. 

His phone rings at the backseat, pulling you away from his neck where you were sucking fresh purple hickeys onto and he groans when your ass brushes aginst his cock. It’s been slightly hard the entire time, still not over his recent orgasm, but not strong enough to maintain itself to stand tall. 

“What’re you doin’?” You freeze as your hand hovers over his phone. 

“Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. It’s irritating.” The caller ID is Ran, and part of you wants to answer it so you can know what he looks like. It’s been nudging at your brain the entire time, trying to figure out which one of his friends is who, trying to put the pieces of the faceless group of boys together to solve the puzzle. 

“Just ignore it—okay then.” You answer the phone away, turning the camera away from your naked body onto Sanzu’s face. You squirm around, trying to find where Sanzu threw your bra and shirt as the two engage in small talk.

“What do you want?”

Ran snorts on the other end, his voice deep, familiar, and husky. “Don’t needa get all pissy, you big baby. Takeomi wants to know where you are.”

“What the fuck does that have to do wit’ me?”

“Call him, or somethin’. I don’t fuckin’ know?”

Haru sniffs, nose wrinkling when the smoke he blows out invades his nostrils. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“Being a fuckin’ junkie?” Ran snorts, petty and bitterly, voice now laced in sarcasm. “So productive.”

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at the same time you put your shirt back on, reaching under your shirt to fix the straps of your bra. “I’m doing more than getting high, you slug. I’m with my friend.”

You had tuned out the conversation from the beginning, your main priority being your clothes, but at the mention of ‘friend’, he jostles his leg, catching your attention. “Say hello.”

“Uh…hello?”

“Oh? Who might you be?”

“I’m—” Haruchiyo ends the call before you could even get the first letter of your name out. “What the hell?”

He lazily shrugs, tossing his phone into the backseat without a care. It hits the edge of the seat, before hitting the floor with a mild smack. Two noble fingers grasp at your chin, redirecting your gaze from his probably broken phone to his face. 

The kiss is passionate, and long, his wet slide of his tongue laving itself inside your mouth. Your face grows hot when his lips wrap around the length of your tongue, sucking the moisture from it, replacing it with his own. It’s messy but you don’t care, happily drinking the mixed saliva from his mouth. 

His sharp teeth sink into your lips, stopping you from pulling away, kissing you with fervour as his heavy head spins, and bright flashes of colour appears behind his closed eyes.

“I’m so hungry,” he gasps out when he finally pulls away, wiping the saliva from his mouth with his forearm, giving you back the breath he stole from your lungs with that kiss.

“You want me to drive you to McDonalds?”

He grins up at you, that stupid adorable look on his face that has your heart warming in your chest. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“It’s my way of forcing some food down your throat before you die of starvation.”

“What if I was thirsty instead?”

“McDonalds sells drinks, dumbass.”

“ Or… ” He places his hands on your hips, pulling you forward on his lap. You yelp at the motion, hands flying to the headrest behind him to stabilise yourself. 

What he’s insinuating is lost to you for a moment, only becoming obvious when his hand snakes down to your pussy, thumb nudging insistently at your clit. His eyes dip down to your chest, your nipples still hard and poking through the thin fabric of your shirt, then drags them back up to your face and smiles.

“You’re so horny.” Your eyeroll is fabricated and fake, part of you deep down wants it too. 

“You like it though.” It’s true, and he knows it too. The defeated look on your face is all he needs to know when he moves to open the car door, nodding his head outside. “Let’s go to my room now.”

[whoresidentevil]

Leon and Your Hair

a/n: I haven't written in years so this is very experimental 💀 I'm open to constructive feedback!

Also, I wrote this with the reader having type 4 hair in mind but I tried to make it as texture-inclusive as possible :)

General: 

Leon himself takes pride in his hair and appearance in general which is one of many ways you guys relate to each other.

 I imagine your shared bathroom would be full of hair products and tools more than anything else, though most of it is yours.

Leon isn't ignorant, he knew how important hair is to your culture way before you got together. Because of this, he respects how much effort your maintenance requires.

RE2:

This man 100% uses all your stuff every time he comes over. You start wondering if these containers have a hole at the bottom of them or something. Eventually, Leon just starts buying the shampoo/conditioner combo you use for himself at home because it's doing wonders for his hair. Plus the scent reminds him of you, it's a win-win.

Leon had nice hair before, but your presence in his life introduces him to products like deep conditioner, hair oils, etc that just elevate it further.

When you get your hair braided or styled Leon always wants to be the first person to see it! He even goes out of his way to pick you up from the salon so he can shower you with compliments right after. 

If he has time I can see Leon sitting in the salon with you for however many hours it takes the stylists to be done. He sits there flipping through the hair magazines he took from the waiting area, turning the pages over to you every couple of minutes. "Babe, you should try this next time." with the most genuine smile on his face. Even if it was some atrocious 90's editorial style, you smile and nod at every single one.

RE4:

Once Leon starts going on long missions he's unable to be your personal chauffeur 24/7, so he'd definitely want you to text him pictures every time you get your hair done. He always sets them as his phone wallpaper to have an updated photo of you everywhere he goes.

During his training I doubt he'd have the luxury of technology though, instead opting to get a Polaroid of you every now and then in the mail. He always makes sure to compliment you on something in the letters he sends back and keeps the latest Polaroid somewhere in his pockets while the older ones are tacked to his wall. (poor guy misses you so much)

When he's home with you he realizes how much he missed your silk pillowcases and bed sheets. He didn't think they were actually helping his hair and skin until he had to sleep in crazy locations during training/missions and noticed the difference. he silently thanks you for that.

RE6/ID/DI:

After so many years of being together, Leon knows about all your hair preferences, favorite styles, and even things he hasn't seen you in yet. (our boy is educated 👏🏾).

Sometimes you ask him to help pick what you'll do with your hair next which either ends with him saying "You look beautiful no matter what" or showing you very specific photos he found on Google.

It's been years since you've paid for your own hair because Leon insists on taking care of that for you. It doesn't matter how much it costs, he has no problem with it as long as you are happy.

He'd go into the beauty supply store with you and know exactly where to go and what to get, even reminding you not to forget some things along the way.

Leon has a huge soft spot for your natural hair, whatever texture it may be he's whipped for it. Loves being able to touch your hair (with permission) and probably asks to help you on wash days so he has an excuse to do so.

speaking of which, I can see wash days becoming an intimate thing for you two as you get older. He'd help you shampoo in the shower as a form of affection, or you're sitting in his lap while he helps you detangle when your arms get tired.

If you have locs I can see Leon looking up a tutorial on how to do retwists to help you out. Even if you tell him time and time again that you'd rather have your loctician do it he insists you give him a chance. Turns out he's not half bad at it and you let him do it a few times a year.

[shoyoist]

𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : mikage reo.

if there's one thing reo loves doing for you, the one and only love of his entire life, it's using all his money and all his privilege to spoil you silly. for someone so rich and so educated and so esteemed, reo is so incredibly rogueish and sweet. and he saves most of it for you.

he seems to know exactly what you need when you're having a bad day. he surprises you by popping up at your door with flowers and your favourite snacks, often takes you out on late night rides in his car, calls you by the sappiest petnames like 'bunny', 'angelface' and 'sweetie-pie'. oh, and his camera roll is full of dumb pictures he's taken of you. he refuses to delete any of them, because you're just too cute in each one of them.

and he's so attentive, too! always asks you if you're okay or if you're enjoying yourself, and somehow always knows when you're in need of a ride. his chauffeur is your best friend at this point. and he makes time off his busy schedule to personally pick you up from work every day, and brings you both an umbrella and a raincoat when it's raining.

and oh, he loves taking you out on the fanciest and most lavish of dinner dates. the two of you take turns — you take him out on a little picnic to a park, or you introduce him to the delights of hopping between one street-food stall to the other for an entire evening, and the next night he'll introduce you to a fancy restaurant that's even richer than the ones he took you to before.

you tell him tonight, that you feel out of place surrounded by all these filthy rich people, getting served dinner on a set that looks like it costs more than all the furniture in your bedroom combined — but reo assures you that you're perfectly fine.

because you're so fucking beautiful, seated across from him in the pretty satin number he'd bought for you specially for tonight, so cute as you look around awe-struck at the chandeliers hanging above, your lips painted softly to match the colour of your dress, your eyes bright and your hair lovely — reo thinks you look like royalty.

and a restaurant like this one isn't exactly the place for public displays of affection — but reo wants to slide into your booth, press you against the new-leather seat and kiss you senseless.

he pulls himself together though, leaning on his fist and giving you that slow, wide smile of his. "how's it here, bunny?" he asks. "you like this place better than the last?"

"how am i supposed to choose?" you laugh, taking a sip from the drink you've been served. "it's beautiful here, and everything is so — so expensive looking, and the drink is great!"

your eyes soften as they meet reo's, and he thinks he'll melt if he holds your gaze for too long. "thank you for bringing me here." you say, and he can't hold himself back from stretching across the table to give you a little kiss. the inside of your mouth tastes sweet, and he so badly wants to have some more. but that can be saved for later.

right now, he has to admire you. he has to watch how the gentle lighting plays over your skin, how the dress accentuates all your curves and lines, how you close your eyes to enjoy your drink. you're so pretty, reo feels overwhelmed.

the date isn't even over yet, and he's already thinking of where to take you next.

you look up, see him watching you with such a loving look in his twilight eyes, and when your gaze flutters away, your cheeks warm and your lips twitching in a shy little smile, he thinks he could empty out all that he's worth to take you out like this every night and treat you like the royalty that you are to him, just to see you smile like that again and again and again.

he'll never get enough of you. and he hopes desperately that you will never get enough of him, either. a lifetime of you and him together, always in love and always wanting more, more, more — more time spent together, more kisses to eachother's lips, more love poured into your hearts. reo wants that so bad.

he sits there and continues to watch you, wondering if tonight is the night where he'll finally man up and present to you the ring he's been keeping in his pocket for the last two weeks.

maybe. maybe not. he's not entirely sure yet.

the second time you catch him staring, you're more prepared. tucking a stray curl of hair behind you ear, you give him a teasing smirk. “something on your mind, baby?”

and reo feels the way his face colours and heats up, even as he smirks back. “just admiring my pretty bunny. why?”

you laugh, the sound of it like music in his ear, and fuck. you make him so nervous. maybe he'll be keeping the ring in his pocket for another two weeks.

yeah. he swallows, reaches for his own drink and takes a sip from it, never breaking eye contact with you. he'll do it later. you're going to be around for that, no matter how long it takes — aren't you?

“sweetheart,” he grins, eyes sparking with mischief. “do ya love me?”

“of course i do, reo.” you respond seriously, and it warms his heart. you always take that question so seriously. “i love you so much. it’s why i've been tolerating your ass for years now.” he rolls his eyes towards the end of that sentence, and it makes you giggle — but the next sip of your drink was barely down your throat, and it makes you choke.

shit, shit—

reo nearly spills his own drink as he leaps out of his seat and rushes to your side, clapping your back for you and offering you a napkin, shielding your frame from the rest of the room as you sputter into the napkin, giggling even as you're choking and your face is reddening with stress.

“what's so funny?” reo mutters, amusement laced in his voice as he rubs your back and offers you the glass of water a waiter brings for you. you drink from it and cough again, giggling and trying to tell him that he's such a worrywart — and when you finally pull yourself together, you smile at him and say, “you know, you're such a keeper.”

he ignores the feeling of the ring box digging into his hip as he straightens up and kisses your forehead. “what's that mean, huh?”

“hmph.” reo gives you a playful frown, reclaiming his seat across from you and adjusting the lapels of his jacket. “so does that mean you'd say yes if i asked you to marry me, mm?”

“it means you're so caring and sweet to me.” you muse, wiping your mouth with the napkin and setting it down. your lipstick is now faded, and reo makes a note to himself to help you with it once you're both back in the car, so you can mark up this dress shirt of his, too — the way you've marked up every shirt he's ever worn on a dinner date with you. it's a tradition, at this point.

you carry on, unaware of his musings. “you're so gentle and loving — husband material. look how worried you got just cause i choked on some wine!”

“yeah.” your answer is so quick, it stuns him. it's your turn to offer him a mischievous smile. “so?”

fuck, fuck, fuck — he's too nervous. he can't do it tonight. not tonight. so instead of pulling out that ring and getting on one knee for you, reo smiles back and gives you a wink. “so, bunny, i hope you'll refrain from choking on your wine again and keep yourself alive for the near future.”

and when he sees the way your eyes widen as the meaning of his words sink in, the way your shoulders lift and your lips part in a little gasp — reo is sure that despite how nervous he is about this matter, his adoration and passion for you is soon going to overturn his anxiety.

he'll be putting that ring on you soon enough. and then you'll be his precious lover, all for him to spoil silly and wake up next to every morning, forever and ever.

note: i'll be honest — if this makes no sense it's because this is just me rambling about how very deep reo's love runs. how affectionate and passionate he is. how badly he wants to be someone's number 1. how badly he wants to have someone for himself. yeah.

rbs & feedback are highly appreciated! and of course, feel free to send me an ask if you'd like to chat<3 i am very starved of interaction :P

[skz317cb97]

Drunk Confessions pt 5

Jisung x Female reader

Word count: 1.9k

Synopsis: When Jisung, the guy that can't stand you, calls drunk and asks for a ride home from the bar you do it for the sake of your mutual friend Chan.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Wow part 5 already! 3 more to go! Hope you like this one! Warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing and strong language, mentions of drinking/over drinking/being drunk. That's all! If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it immediately!

To say that you were surprised when you saw Jisung’s contact picture pop up calling you at 2am would be a drastic understatement. You hesitated even answering worried it might just be more hateful and hurtful words you didn’t need or want to hear from him. The time was the only reason you did answer, in case he was in trouble or something. He might not be your friend but your friend cared about him so you answered. 

“Heyyy y/n.” He was very drunk. 

“Hey hey hey, are you there?” You hummed. 

“Yes Jisung I’m here...” He chuckled a little. 

“Okay look do you think you can pull the stick from your ass long enough to come get me from this bar. I made some new friends but none of us can drive, can we girls?!” You heard a group of drunk girls carrying on in the background hollering their agreement with Jisung. 

“Let me get this straight. You want me to come get you and an unknown number of girls and what? Take you home like I’m your personal uber?”  

“Unless you’d like to join us...” A scowl was plastered to your face whether Jisung could see it or not. 

“Goodbye Jisun-”  

“Wait wait! God I’m just kidding!” You huff a breath out not wanting to deal with him at all, let alone at 2am. 

“Jisung if you and only you need a ride because you’re drunk, I’ll come get you because Chan is our friend but if you think for one second I’m chauffeuring you and your harem home you’ve lost your goddamned mind.” 

“Okay! Jeeze, I see the stick has not been removed. Just me. Will you please give just me a ride.” You agreed and Jisung told you the bar he was at. When you pulled up you were hoping he was going to be waiting outside for you, of course he wasn’t.  

You parked and went into the club that was still surprisingly crowded. You scanned the crowd looking for Jisung until you finally recognized his slicked back black hair. It was criminal how gorgeous he was for being such a dick most of the time. There must have been some redeeming qualities about him that Chan saw or they wouldn’t be friends. You certainly didn’t. 

You didn’t know what you had done for him to dislike you so much but one night Jisung accidentally pocket dialed you and you heard every shitty thing he thought about you. After that you kept your distance. Still he always had something to say, like the stick up your ass line. You’d had enough and started avoiding him at all costs and now you were walking up to a guy you didn’t want to be around, in a club you didn’t want to be in and for no other reason than he’s your one of your best friend’s friend. You tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Jisung?” He spun around and the smile he was sporting fell at the sight of you which only made you feel like shit. 

“Ah! The stick in the mud I ordered fantastic.” He said and one of the girls next to him started laughing. You glared at her and she shut up quickly. 

“The stick in the mud is leaving now.” You turned and headed towards the exit. Jisung quickly said goodbye to the girls and ran after you, well stumbled. He had way too much to drink. 

“Wait you were gonna take me home!” You shrugged. 

“Guess you better keep up!” You called back to him as he tried to do just that. He did manage to make it to the car and get in before you were in drive so you decided to keep your word and take him home. The first half of the car ride was fairly quiet. Soft music playing and neither of you speaking. Then finally Jisung broke the silence. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” You looked over and he looked sleepy and a little sad. He was asking a serious question. 

“Seriously?” He nodded and his eyes somehow managed to get bigger and browner and you wondered if this was a little of what Chan saw. 

“Jee Jisung maybe because I have a stick up my ass and wouldn’t know a good time if it bit me in my backside. Or maybe it’s because I could never be your type because I’m stuck up and dress like a librarian, or maybe it’s because I only use Chan for food, alcohol, and money, or maybe it’s because I heard someone say a bunch of terrible things about me and assumed he didn’t like me so I stayed away!” You were angry that tears were welling up in your eyes as you shouted at him. Who was he to ask you why you hated him when he had so clearly disliked you first. 

“You heard me say all that?!” You shook your head rolling your eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter Jisung you don’t like me and I don’t like you and that’s fine okay?” Jisung had his head in his hands shaking it. 

“No no no you’ve got it all wrong!” You looked at him not buying it. 

“I heard it all Jisung straight from you.” He nodded. 

“Okay yes I said that stuff, but it was before I really knew you and I was wrong! I don’t hate you at all y/n I’m crazy about you!” You scoffed disgusted. 

“What the hell are you going on about!? You always call me names and act like you’re god’s gift!”  

“So I flirt like an idiot it doesn’t mean I don’t like you!” You slammed on your brakes. 

“FLIRT?! You call saying I have a stick up my ass flirting?!” 

“SHITTY FLIRTING, YES!”  

“OH WELL NO FUCKING SHIT! SO I’M SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE YOU LIKE ME?!” 

“YES!!” If the car hadn’t already been stopped you would have slammed on the brakes again. 

“Get the fuck out of my car.” Jisung tried to reason with you. 

“Wait let’s just talk about this.” You were done talking. 

“GET OUT!” He got out of your car and onto the sidewalk and you sped off. Who the hell did he think he was. Saying all those things about you, treating you the way he did, just to say he liked you. What a childish way to show affection, he might as well have been pulling your ponytail and tripping you while he was at it. You were halfway back home when the guilt of leaving him drunk and stranded hit you.  

“FUCK!” You made a U-turn and went back towards Jisung’s place. You ended up finding him about 2 miles from where you’d left him. He’d made surprisingly good time considering he was plastered. You pulled up, stopped and you rolled down the window. 

“Get in and don’t say a thing.” Jisung got in the car buckled up and didn’t say a single word the rest of the way to his place. When you got there you parked the car and looked forward not saying anything still furious. 

“Thank you.” Jisung said quietly. You didn’t say anything and continued looking forward, waiting for him to get out. 

“Okay... goodnight y/n.” He waited until you gave him a little nod, still not looking at him, and then he got out and went into his building, leaving you to drive home with a hundred thoughts swirling in your head. Like? He LIKED you? Did he even know you well enough to like you? You supposed he did.  

Chan had been trying to get you to come around a bit more too. Obviously they had been talking about you, you were sure Chan knew how Jisung felt but he’d never said a thing to you. You guessed because it wasn’t his information to share but still you were all friends he couldn’t have at least hinted? You were going to give him a little grief about it when you saw him next.  

For now you had to figure out what you were going to do about Jisung and his confession. You felt a little bad just taking off on him like that. You probably broke his heart. What if he really did hate you now? Why did that scare you so much suddenly? When you got home you went to bed but sleep was a fickle friend that night and with it already being so late, you barely got any rest. 

The next day you got up and went over to Jisung’s first thing. You pounded on his door until he woke up and answered. When he saw it was you his face fell again and just like the night before it hurt seeing him frown because of you. 

“Why?” Jisung was hungover, half asleep and very confused. 

“Why....” You rolled your eyes still on the fence about everything. 

“Why do you like me?”  

“Oh. Um, well... it’s hard-” You stopped him. 

“If you like with me the reason why shouldn’t be hard. You should be able t-” Jisung interrupted. 

“Because you’re beautiful okay!? Like the kind of beautiful other women can only hope to be. You are kind I’ve seen you sneak and buy like ten different homeless guys meals and you pay for mine and Chan’s food on a regular basis. You’re smart, and funny, and you don’t have to put up a front. If someone doesn’t like you then they don’t like you and you’re fine with that.” You shook your head. 

“No I’m not.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not fine with that, I hated that you didn’t like me. I didn’t know what I had done to make you think those things about me.” Jisung shook his head. 

“Nothing you didn’t do anything I was an asshole judging you because you were a pretty girl that hung around Chan all the time. Then I got to know you and asked Chan about you and I realized I was dead wrong. I never knew you heard me say those things or I would have apologized a long time ago. I am sorry y/n I was wrong and shouldn’t have said that and I shouldn’t have picked on you so much when there were clearly issues between us I just... wanted to make you laugh... get you to loosen up...” You laughed a little. 

“Get the stick out of my ass?” He pressed his fingers into his eyes embarrassed. 

“No no. You don’t have a stick up your ass or in the mud or anywhere. Your feelings were hurt and it was my fault. I’m so sorry.” You nodded. 

“Apology accepted Jisung.” His head shot up and he looked at you surprised. 

“Really!?” You shook your head. 

“Yes really. Jisung when you relax and just be you... I like you too.” His jaw was on the floor. 

“Ji a bug is gonna fly in your mouth.” He closed it. 

“Sorry just... you... you like me?!”  

“Of course Jisung, you're handsome and funny. You’re a dear friend to Chan which means a lot to me.” He laughed nervously.  

“At the risk of pushing my luck... would you want to go out with me this weekend? I’d love to take you to dinner. Buy you a meal for once.” You laughed and shook your head yes. 

“I’d really like that Jisung.” He smiled ear to ear. 

“Really?! Okay! I’ll text you and we’ll work out all the details!” Your smile spread across your face too. 

“Sounds good. I’ll go and let you get some rest now.” You leaned in and pressed your soft lips to Jisung’s and he thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. 

“I’ll talk to you later Ji.” His chubby cheeks and his ears were red. 

“Yeah, okay... bye.” You turned and left and Jisung closed the door before leaning against it in total disbelief. He had a date with you. 

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[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter One: The Day It Rained Fire

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 4576

Warnings: swearing, mutual bullying (?), mentions of death, blood, violence, gore

[A/N: my sweet baby angel of a project (she calls it and it's gonna be her most gore-driven, terrifying attempt yet), i've been working on this for a little while now and I'm so excited to finally share it with you!! a brand new story, no script to follow, i'm scared.]

The Day It Rained Fire

Steve couldn’t believe it.

One minute he was minding his business, trying to catch up with his rapidly plummeting grades in time for the finals, and the next he was promised detention after ‘cheating’ in class.

The shit-eating grin Tommy gave him was enough to make Steve’s fists curl. He wouldn’t do anything; Steve never threw the first punch.

The boy had caught his attention with a balled up piece of paper. He was going to try and ignore him first, focus on the class. But Tommy started to hiss at him, and Steve knew if he delayed it any longer Tommy would be making a scene.

He made a comment that Steve didn’t hear, making him lean closer. The clock was ticking loudly, students scribbling down their pop quiz answers in silence, their teacher’s head stuffed into a book. His action cost him when Tommy’s hand shot straight up, alerting the eyes of their superior.

‘Harrington’s tryna copy my answers’ was what he had said. And Mr Holloway wasn’t a man you could reason with. He was given a one-way ticket to detention, much to the amusement of a boy he mistook for a friend.

So here he was, cursing the last bell and trudging his way back to Mr Holloway’s classroom, praying it would be over in time for Steve to get Dustin to the arcade. He didn’t know why he became the boy’s personal chauffeur yet part of him enjoyed it. But Jesus, if he was late he’d never hear the end of it.

Pushing open the door, he immediately gains his teacher’s attention, the man nodding to all the empty chairs in front of him. All but one.

“Oh, great.” You roll your eyes, returning your gaze back to your notebook as he sarcastically grins.

“Shoot me now.” Steve grumbles as he slips into his seat, just a desk away from you.

“Quiet, please.” Your warden ordered, his glasses propped on the edge of his nose. “You’ll both be here for an hour. I expect you to complete any outstanding work in this time. If you do not have any, I will task you with some. No talking, no leaving. Anyone not respecting my terms will-”

“Have an extra ten minutes added to our time for every violation, yeah, yeah, I know.” You interrupt, waving your pen in the air. “Can I start this essay now so I can get home before dinner?”

“Always a pleasure, Miss Hopper.” He sighs, returning to his desk and flipping through papers.

You catch Steve staring at you inquisitively, scrunching up your face. “Stop staring.”

He simply raises his hands, reaching into his bag and setting up his desk. As soon as the lid from his pen was popped, he started scribbling down notes from his History guide book.

“Huh.” You sound after a while and he raises his head, frowning.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You say, striking your paper with a period to mark the end of your sentence. “Just didn’t know you could write.”

Biting his tongue, he tries to ignore your irritating nature, focus back on his lined paper.

Neither of you were exactly sure when it had started. The disgusted glances, annoyed groans, petty feuds. You had both been friends in middle school, kind of. In a way, you simply tolerated eachother, friendly smiles when you passed eachother in town, or laughing at eachother’s jokes when you were grouped with mutual friends. It had all been fine.

Then something changed in high school. You both did. And it had brought an unnecessary rivalry between you both, making it near impossible to sit quietly in a room together. You’d roll your eyes anytime he opened his mouth, he’d yawn whenever you were presenting in class. Little by little it got worse, until you were both trying to publicly humiliate eachother. The last time had earned you both a threat for expulsion, and you had quickly decided to step away from one another. From irritation, to sabotage, to avoidance, no one in the school has ever mistook you for friends.

And now, this was the first time in a long time you had ever shared the same space alone. And you were both hating every second.

“Hm.” Steve sounded after a while and you set down your pencil, glancing his direction. “Sorry. Just realised I should’ve knocked.”

“What?” You scrunch your face in confusion and he smirks.

“I mean, you’re in here so much, you must live here, right?”

Your face drops into utter annoyance, ready to reply when Mr Holloway clears his throat.

“What about ‘no talking’ do you not understand?” He asks, voice at a normal volume. He sounded tired, if anything.

“I want a new classroom.” You announce, and he raises his brows.

“We don’t have any other staff to oversee your detention.”

“Then I want my hour to start after his.” You suggest and Mr Holloway removes his glasses, rubbing either side of his nose bridge. The silver band he wore on his left hand glinted against the light.

“Miss-”

“Or, you know what,” You continue, smiling at Steve. “I’m feeling so charitable today, how about I take his hour and add it onto mine.”

“That’s-” Mr Holloway starts, but Steve scoffs.

“Jesus, you are such a child.” He says, folding his arms. “Can’t even spend an hour in silence.”

“Mr Harr-”

“It’s hard to even think in here with all this hairspray I’m suddenly breathing in.” You glare and Steve grits his teeth.

“Yeah? How about you-”

A startling crash echoes through the hallway, silencing the classroom immediately. Standing from his chair, Mr Holloway sends a wide eyed look to his students. He clears his throat and slips the glasses back onto his nose.

“Wait here, please. I’ll be back as soon as I find out what’s going on.” He announces, collecting his keys and leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Barely a second passes before you’re lunging at the door, trying the doorknob.

“Asshole.” You curse, slumping your shoulders and kicking the door. “Of course he locks us in.”

“How fun.” Steve smirks and you glare at him. “Maybe if you weren’t getting in trouble all the time, you wouldn’t be stuck in here with me.”

“Bite me, Harrington.” You scoff, pushing away from the door.

He wasn’t wrong, though. You were getting in trouble so persistently lately that you were getting closer to ruining your chances for college. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to graduate, you’ll be damned if you never escape this hell hole of a town, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were acting out. No one cared to ask why.

“I mean, if anyone’s gonna know the rules, it’ll be the Chief’s daughter, right?” He retorts and you stop, biting your tongue. “Ooh. I forgot. Daddy issues?”

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You groan, spinning around to face him.

Steve doesn’t reply.

“Oh, right. Sorry I forget your hair plugs your ears.” You lean forward, cupping your hands around your mouth like a megaphone. “Do. You. Ever-”

“Jesus, can you just be nice for one in your miserable-”

A loud blood-curdling scream rips into your argument, freezing you both in place.

“What the hell was that?” Steve whispers out, the silence that ensued suddenly all too frightening.

“Probably… probably just some kids, uh, messing around.” You reply, nodding mostly to yourself. Then, as your nerves took over, you started to laugh.

“Why are you laughing right now?” Steve frowns, startled by your reaction.

“The look on your face, I don’t know, it was funny.” You chuckle, feeling your heart beat slowly return to normal. “It’s not the first time someone’s had a screaming fit during detention.”

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, leaning back in his seat. “I see why no one hangs around this place after the last bell.”

“Yep. All that’s left are the stoners, and degenerates.” You quip, leaning against the front desk. “Now, I know you’re not a stoner…”

“Shut it.” Steve clicks his jaw, deciding to just stare out of the window. It had gotten darker outside. Weird, considering you were only just in April. The sun never set this early.

Minutes ticked by, rendering you restless. You were fiddling with your jumper, pulling at loose threads, procrastinating the half-finished essay taunting your eyes. And, after a while, you decided enough was enough.

“Okay, this is ridiculous.” You say, circling the desk and rooting through drawers.

“Did no one teach you patience as a child?” Steve comments, peeling his eyes away from the window to feed his curiosity.

“Did no one tell you that hair can exist without vats of gel?” You retort, pulling open a drawer that jingled with the harsh motion. “Bingo.”

“What?” Steve straightens up, peering over the desk to see you stand, keys dangling from your fingers.

“He always keeps a spare.” You grin, bounding over to the classroom door. This might be the second time you’ve escaped educational imprisonment, and it sure wasn’t going to be the last.

“Really?” Steve holds out his arm, rocking back in his chair. “He’ll be back soon.”

“So?” You shrug, “He always does this. He goes out to investigate something and doesn’t return until the hour’s over.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. The asshole’s probably sat down right now in the break room with some coffee,” You say, turning the key and slowly turning the door knob. “Thinking that those kids he left in detention are suckers-”

You hadn’t opened it merely an inch before another scream bounces off the walls, more distant than the last.

Steve springs up from his seat this time, knocking over his chair. You jump at his sudden burst, widening your eyes.

“Jesus, calm down.” You look him up and down. “Don’t go ruining that hair, it’s the moneymaker.”

“Where are you going?” He asks as you pocket the keys and take a step forward.

“Gonna go see who’s screaming and give them a peace of my mind.” You say, already outside the classroom.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He warns and you raise a brow.

“Look, you can stay here if you’re scared he’s gonna catch you, but I’m not listening to any more screams for the rest of the hour, okay? It’s probably just Phil and his stoner gang thinking that the school’s empty.”

Steve didn’t look convinced and you laugh. “Oh, stop. Don’t go pretending like you care about me when we both know you’re just worried you’re gonna have to take the blame for my disappearance.”

He almost winces. Take the blame for my disappearance.

Fuck, it shouldn’t have made his heart shatter the way it did. Suddenly he’s back in that bathroom, chipped pieces of a future crashing and burning, a slurred voice stabbing him where it hurt. You’re pretending like everything’s okay. Like we didn’t kill Barb.

You frown at how ill he suddenly looked. Something you’ve pretended not to notice ever since school came back from Christmas break. His jumpy nature anytime a locker slammed shut, the nervous excuses when someone suggests he should throw a pool party. You didn’t care, you shouldn’t. But you still noticed.

“Okay, how about this?” You sigh, shuffling back into the classroom and closing the door with a soft click, leaning against it. “I’ll just see if I can spot Holloway. If I haven’t in the first two minutes, I’ll come straight back and we can pretend like I never left when he eventually returns. Good?”

“Yeah.” Steve says quietly, still frowning as he leans against the front desk, palms flat against the surface either side of him.

“Oh-kay.” You turn back around, ignoring that persistent feeling that told you to stay with him. Why? He hadn’t ever done anything for you.

Slipping out of the door, you start wandering down the halls, peering into empty classrooms. You and Steve seemed to be the only students left, excluding whoever was winding up your teacher by screaming across the school.

You weren’t planning on detention today. The first five times were boring enough. But that changed this morning, before you refused to be in the cabin for one more second and stormed out into the surrounding nature, a bad morning to start off a bad day. Detention ensured you had an excuse to stay away longer.

You were sure two minutes passed by as you glance up at a convenient clock, slumping your shoulders. You did make a promise. And Mr Holloway was nowhere to be seen.

Turning on your heel, you were about to walk back the way you came when you thought you could hear something, a quiet humming sound. Maybe you were right and Holloway was making his coffee right now.

In the mood for a little defiance, you head towards the noise. Anything to keep you from going home.

You round a corner, scanning the space and coming to an abrupt halt. Your stomach drops.

Blood marks the floors, red handprints smeared across the wall. It was a crimson path that dragged down the hallways, bending around the corner out of your sight. Any expectations you had of what this hallway would be like were trapped in shock, your skin feeling like fire as your nerves scream at you to leave.

So you turn around, heart loud enough to beat your eardrums.

But what if someone was hurt?

Shit, you thought, looking back, no. No, it’s not my problem.

And then you started thinking that if you left whoever it was now, you could be the reason they died.

Reluctantly, you walk down the hall, dodging the spill. Maybe this wasn’t blood. Maybe it was a prank, or a simple accidental spill of red juice.

The smell didn’t make it seem less so as you grip your sweater sleeves in your hands, that humming sound getting louder by the second.

And, when you finally turn that corner, you feel the breath being dragged from your lungs.

A girl was led on the floor, eyes staring straight at you, arms splayed either side of her. Blood was splattered all over her face, staining her clothes.

And something was eating her chest, ripping into her body.

Tears flooded your eyes, your hand covering the whimpers threatening your throat, feet slowly backing away. There was an emergency exit behind you, just further down the hall. You could make it.

Her dead eyes were looking straight through you, and you couldn’t do anything for her – all that blood. You couldn’t -There was so much blood.

Your eyes stay glued to the monster, cautious steps taking you backwards, until you could slip back around the corner. You needed to get out of here fast.

Steve, you suddenly think, eyes widening. You needed to get Steve. No matter how much you despised him, no one deserved to end up like that girl. Oh my god. That poor girl. So much blood.

Taking a deep breath, something grabbed your shoulder and you almost scream. Covering your mouth with your hands, you glance at whatever creature has suddenly got you in its grasp and prepare for-

A silver ring shone back at you and you sigh in relief. It was Mr Holloway.

“Thank god.” You whisper shakily, turning around. You can just see your startled reflection in his glasses. “There’s a girl back there and this- this thing it’s… it’s eating her.”

You look up to him with watering eyes, choking on your own words, and frown. Something was wrong.

His hair was matted to his head, a crack in the corner of his glasses. There was something black spilled over his chin, dripping onto his shirt.

“Are you okay?” You ask, instinctively taking a step back.

He doesn’t respond.

“Mr Holloway?”

His wild eyes suddenly darted upwards, staring at you.

Then, he pounces.

He’s snarling as he claws at your jumper, pulling you down to the ground with him. In haste you try and push him off of you, but this man was a lot bigger than you, wrapping his hands around your throat and smashing your head into the cold ground.

Struggling against his weight, he rears his head closer to you.

“Stop!” You try, his tightening grip on your neck releasing the word as a strained whisper.

Before the restraint became too unbearable, you had curled your fingers around the keys in your pocket and plunged the metal into the skin of his hand.

He shrieks in pain, scurrying back and finally releasing you. Your breaths are quick and shallow, mustering up any oxygen to pull yourself away from him.

You manage to stumble onto foot, turning around to see him glaring at you, a dripping line of black oozing from the wound you made. He looked scared for a second, cradling his hand. Remnants of him were fading in and out. Like he was possessed.

And then he growled. Something alien, animalistic.

Everything in the world felt distant when he opens his mouth, your breath hitching in your throat. Pieces fell away from it, four sections opening like a flower and exhibiting his rows of tiny sharp teeth. It wasn’t natural. None of it was natural.

Your body reacted before your brain, back hitting the wall as he stalked towards you. He was backing you into a corner, leaving you little chance of survival. You were going to die. He was going to kill you- your teacher was going to kill you.

Something red catches the corner of your eye and you glance over. With little time left, you throw yourself towards it and tug it from the wall.

You swing the fire extinguisher just in time for it to collide with the side of his head as he lunges at you, a sickening crunch of impact driving you backward into a stumble.

The lights above you are flickering out of control as you find your teacher hunched against the wall, still. You had driven him down, hopefully knocking him unconscious. The uncoordinated lights weren’t helping your assessment, hands still gripping the metal canister in fear.

Finally, a flash of luminescence brightens the scene long enough for you see what you had done, a sob escaping your lips. His arms were limp at his sides, neck rolled to the side. And his head was caved in, blood dripping from his mouth.

You killed him.

A throbbing ache was building in your head, the back of your skull feeling all too hot. Removing a hand from the extinguisher, you delicately pat the surface and wince, feeling the damp collected on your scalp and hair. You were bleeding.

And, just for a second, you were distracted.

A sharp, searing pain strikes your ankle, causing your one-handed grip on your only weapon to falter and it crashes onto the ground with you, slipping from your fingertips. You watch as it rolls away when the thing tugs violently on your leg, pulling you backwards as you scream into the empty hallway.

The floor was sticky, blood covering your clothes and any bare skin. You were sure it was smeared across your cheek as you cry out for help, fingers slipping against the ground as you tried to find some friction.

You knew it was the creature you had seen before, the cause of the blood you were currently being dragged through. You were going to end up like that girl, bloods mixing into the paste of victims ripped apart. Dead, alone. Prey.

Your hands slip against a door frame before it all stopped too suddenly. You weren’t outrunning it, you had to accept that. You curled up, tears streaming down your face as you prepared for the inevitable. It was going to split you apart, have you feel everything. An endless amount of pain for a terrifying ending.

But you didn’t want it to end.

No matter how many times you argued with him, you didn’t want your father to lose another child.

When it made the first brush of contact against your back, you flipped onto your back and drove your leg hard against it, catching sight of the dark bloody keys glinting in the flashing bulbs just outside of the room. You must have accidentally dragged them with you. And now they were your only hope.

With a yell, you slide the metal between your fingers and curl into a fist, spinning around and moving quickly to stab it before it could kill you.

“Woah, woah, woah! Woah, it’s me!”

You barely manage to catch yourself, stumbling back with wide eyes. You were blinking against the blinding pattern of artificial lights, arm still raised.

“It’s me! Steve!”

It all finally came back into focus and you lower your fist, a shaky breath of relief, as you observe the boy in front of you. His hair was a little wild, chest rising heavily as he clutched your lost fire extinguisher in his hands, black blood marking the bottom and rising along the metal in splatters, matching his face.

At his feet lay the creature that attacked you, its mushy face enough to settle that it wasn’t getting back up.

“Shit.” You finally drop the keys, lowering to rest your hands on your knees and catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, but as he looked at you, he already knew the answer.

When you left the classroom, Steve had felt uneasy about the whole ordeal.

From saving Jonathan from the Demogorgon to fighting those demodogs for the kids, he had been on edge for what seemed every day of his life. Any bump in the night, any twig snapping in the forest, it all rushed back to his head in a throbbing blur of reasons he’d never be able to sleep again.

So, when the second scream had rung out and you had gone after it, Steve could only fear the worse.

He had convinced himself it was nothing. That he was just being paranoid.

Then the overhead lights started to flicker, flashes of colourful bulbs and Nancy’s panicked yells replaying in the horror of his mind. Something was wrong. He knew he should always trust his instinct.

And then, one last scream. Your scream.

He dumped everything where it was, taking off out of the classroom in a rush that almost had him barrelling through the wooden door. He didn’t care if you hated him, if he hated you. No one deserved to die. And he couldn’t live with himself if he knew he had left you.

His feet rounded the corner so quickly he almost slipped on the slick floor. He glanced down, heart racing until it burned his throat with bile. Blood.

I’m too late, he thought, dodging a body laying against the wall. It wasn’t you, the build all too different to have him second guess.

He clocked an extinguisher that had rolled into a wall, grabbing it as he sped past. He was seriously missing that bat right about now.

Steve almost missed it, set on getting there fast. But he saw it, a demodog of his nightmares dragging something into an empty classroom.

You.

Not wasting any more time, he lifted the extinguisher and jumped over you, landing just beside the creature biting at your foot. With as much force as he could muster, he drove the dull edge of the metal can down hard, knocking it off of you completely.

As it snarled back at him, pouncing, he met its sharp mouth with the can once again, bludgeoning it over and over until he was certain it stopped moving, faceless head flattened against the shine of the school floors.

Relaxing his shoulders, he moved to check you’re okay, that he really wasn’t too late. Your curled up body on the floor hadn’t relaxed him. Neither did the sudden pain to his leg as a sole makes contact with his shins, surely leaving a bruise as he staggers back.

And then you’re spinning onto your feet, lunging for something in the dark and turning to face him in the light, fist raised, fear in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He really wished you had just stayed in that classroom. And you looked like you did too.

“Shit, are you okay?”

You look up at him through knotted brows, blood staining your skin. You looked like hell.

“No.” You exasperate, holding back a sob. “No, I am not okay!”

“Right.” Steve nods. He felt stupid even asking the question in the first place. “Sorry.”

Rather than say something snarky, a retort Steve became accustomed to, you simply place your hands on your head, looking down at the monster dead by his feet.

“What the fuck is going on?” You ask. Your voice was merely a whisper, terror coating your words.

Just as Steve opened his mouth to respond, a growl echoed through the corridors, raising goosebumps along his skin. You look down the hallway you stood out in with a darted gaze, faded silhouettes dancing against the walls.

“We need to get out of here.” Steve moves towards you and holds out his hand, silently begging you to take it.

You look down at it, frowning. You had no idea what was going on, how to even continue after the experience you just had. Every possible fibre of your being just wanted to curl up and hide, to admit defeat. You were terrified. And this boy in front of you was offering his hand like it was normal, face set as if he knew what he was doing. How could he possibly be calm?

“You’re gonna have to trust me on this one.” Steve says, eyes unwavering from yours. In a normal circumstance you would have said no, told him where to shove his trust.

But this wasn’t a normal circumstance.

And in this moment, you trusted him completely.

You shoved your hand into his and he grasped it tightly, pulling you with him into the hallway and letting him guide you out of the school, away from the building echo of snarls behind you. You’ll cringe about the fact you were holding hands with Harrington later, when you were sure you had made it out alive.

You thought it could be over, just a freak accident in the school that would be swiftly taking care of, leaving you with scars but a sound mind knowing it was finished. The emergency exit had other ideas.

Steve throws himself against the exit, pulling you with him onto what you hoped would be safe grass. He lets go of your hand to slam the door shut behind him, backing away and finally releasing that shaky breath building in his chest.

Running a hand through his hair, he turns to you, expecting your confused and scared expression to con him into spilling the truth about the creatures. But your eyes were fixed on the sky, a numb expression instead.

Steve follows your stare, heart plummeting with it.

The atmosphere was dark, pieces of burning sky spiralling down in black ash, red lightning clashing against the charred clouds. One in particular was menacing, like a shadow.

The shadow wasn’t a cloud.

It stretched across the buildings, hauntingly built like a spider, invading the sky with its thick body. It looked like it was glitching, its shape buzzing on its outer corners like it was…

dust.

Chapter Two: Harsh Reality ->

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear .

let me know if you want to be added/ removed from the taglist!

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Try Me Part 5/6

Y'all are not ready for this. Not at all actually! 😝

Summary - A six part series where reader is a very passionate football player and Ruben is her new and equally passionate football coach. However, the two of them can't seem to get along.

Enjoy!

You didn't sit with Ruben on the bus ride home. He sat up front, you in the back and Hannah in the middle. He was on your mind though, the fact that he probably rubbed one off to the video you sent him.

It was wrong of you to lie to him like this, yes. But telling him the truth now, how would that go? The best thing to do was to let your conversation thread on tinder die, stop replying to his messages all together.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

You were the last person off the bus. Ruben helped the chauffeur unload everyone's bags.

"Do you need a ride home?" He asked, as the two of you were the last ones to leave the stadium parking lot.

"I..."

You probably shouldn't. You definitely shouldn't.

"Yes, Ruben. Thank you."

It was a quiet car ride home. Still, you enjoyed it, being near Ruben. With him you felt at home, more than in your own home.

"I'm home!"

Stepping into the apartment, the stench of alcohol hit you like a punch to the gut. The floor was sticky beneath your feet. You discovered your dad and his friends sprawled across the living room, unconscious and inebriated. You clenched your fists, struggling to control the fury welling up inside of you. How could he put his own selfish desires before his family?

"Dad?" You tried calling, but he only grunted in response.

"Dad, I'm home?"

You approached him, stirring his limb body. That seemed to do it.

"Y/N?" He said groggy, eyes slowly coming to. "What are you doing here, where have you been?"

You frowned. "Dad, I told you that..."

You paused, hearing a faint cry coming from your room. Wasting no time you sprang forward, heart pounding in your chest. You swung the door open to find  Mimi, standing there with a stranger. The man's unsteady steps and glassy eyes revealed his intoxicated state.

What was she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here.

"Y/N!" Mimi cried out, relief washing over her face. "I'm scared, he won't go away."

Panic struck within you. Your protective instincts surged forth like a tidal wave. Fury intertwined with concern, you stepped between Mimi and the stranger, ready to defend your sister. You surveyed the situation, noticing the man's unkempt appearance and the smell of alcohol emanating from his breath. Anger burned within you, fueling your determination to protect your sister at all costs, scooping her up in your arms, gathering her things.

With your voice trembling, you returned to the living room, Mimi in your arms.

"How could you?

You spoke directly to your dad, hoping he could hear your last words to him, even in his stupor.

"How could you leave us like this, vulnerable and unprotected? You were supposed to be our role model, our support." Tears welled up in your eyes, voice cracking. "We deserve better than this."

Regret briefly flickered across his face before it was replaced by the numbing effect of alcohol. You knew that your words were being swallowed by the void of his addiction. However it didn't matter anymore, he didn't matter anymore.

You rushed downstairs, to Amin and his family, knocking on their door.

"Y/N, are you okay?" It was Amin who opened the door, his eyes widening at the sight of your tears.

"Can we stay here please?" All the emotions seemed to well up inside of you, years of suffering spillning over uncontrollably.

"Y/N..." Amin sighed. His wife appeared behind his shoulder, they both looked tired.

"Like I told your aunt when she tried to drop your sister off at our doorstep, my family and I can't put up with this no longer. What your father is doing, we want no part of it, I'm sorry."

"Wait, who was here to drop off Mimi?"

"Your aunt?" He said. You understood that he meant Mimi's aunt. She too had abandoned Mimi, without telling you.

"Fuck!" You said, sprinting downstairs.

Amin and his wife called after you but you ignored them. It was just you and Mimi now, you were on your own.

********************************************

Ruben must have been ready for bed because he did not look dressed to leave the house anytime soon.

"Y/N."

He opened the door, frowning at the sight of you with Mimi curled up in your arms.

"I...I..." You choked on your own words, your whole body trembling. "I didn't know where else to go."

He rushed you inside without hesitation, unhanding Mimi from you. To your suprise she neither fought or screamed at him, she just settled in his arms, clinging onto his neck as he carried her inside.

God what had she been through? You could only think of the worst.

"I should call my uncle." He said, returning from the guestroom where Mimi was put to sleep.

"No." You protested.

"No?" He frowned. "Y/N if I could decide I think we should call the police. The least we could do is call my uncle, he will know what to do."

"No." You repeated, rubbing the side of your head where you felt a headache coming on.

"Y/N, please. I think..."

"Ruben stop." You put a hand up, preventing him from coming to console you. It may look like you were crying but it was more so out of the trembling rage you felt within. "I'll figure this out myself, I always do."

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this yourself."

You shook your head. "You don't know anything about me."

You hated it, how he looked at you with pity in his eyes, as if you were a helpless little girl like Mimi.

"Y/N." He whispered, continuing to approach you with slow steps.

You shook your head, but it was getting hard to hold in the tears.

"Come here." He whispered and that did it for you, his gesture of stretching out his arms, welcoming you into his safe embrace.

Your forhead knocked against his chest, your arms wrapping around his large frame.

"It's gonna be okay, don't worry I'm here for you. It's gonna be okay."

Maybe it was his comforting words whispered against the top of your head, or his strong arms around your body. Maybe it was all of it, that made you perk up and surprise him by pressing your lips against his.

He flinched, his arms letting go of your body.

"Y/N?"

You stood watching him, how his eyes searched your face trying to make sense of it all.

"I'm sorry, I..." He shook his head objecting your actions. "I'm sorry we can't. You're my...I'm your...Y/N you're upset."

"I'm not, I'm angry."

"Your sister...she needs you, no?"

Despite his protests you could tell that the kiss had its effect on him.

"She's asleep."

"Y/N." He sighed. "You don't want me, you're just upset."

"How do you know?"

You stepped up to him, making his muscles clench with the closing gap between you.

"Maybe I've wanted you all along."

You thought of the fake Tinder profile, about the video you sent him last night, the video that made it hard for him to go to sleep, literally.

"I...we can't." He sighed.

"Ruben."

You were close enough to touch him now. You were touching him as he sat slumped down agsinst the armrest of the living room sofa.

You stood between his legs, your hands pressing down on his thigs.

"I should have figured that it was you." He chuckled.

"That who was me?" You bent down, forhead knocking against his.

"Christina 25." He muttered.

"You knew?"

Ruben raised his head, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Well, you told me that you found my tinder profile didn't you? I figured that you and the other girls were having a laugh about, that's something like creating a fake profile would appeal to you. Christina appeared around the time that you and I were having probles in training, no?"

"Are you upset?" You were still standing close to him, your hands on his thighs.

He shook his head. "Upset, no. Angry, a little. I could lose my job you know, for the stuff I've sent you. But somthing tells me that this is what you want?"

"No."

He chuckled, "No?"

"No."

"What do you want from me then?"

You felt his hands on your hips, slowly railing you in. Soon you stood pinned against him, his hands resting on the curve of your ass.

"Ruben I..."

You gasped when the smell of him and the feel of him all came to you at once. He had bent down to kiss your neck, the flat of his hand pushing up against your shoulder blades.

"Ruben." You cried.

He was lost. His mouth exploring the line of your jaw, moving on to lick your bottom lip.

You hands cupped his face, resisting the way he was lunging forwards, eager to have you, to taste you.

Your shirt came off as his fingers curled at the hem of it, pulling the fabric over your head.

He stood, forcing you to tilt your head up and look at him.

"Ruben."

His eyes were dark, with a glossy vail, making it impossible for you to know what he desired from you.

"Bedroom." He grunted. A hand on your shoulder ordered you in the right direction.

Closing the door behind him, Ruben gathered you in his arms, your back pressed to his front, his mouth latching onto the crook of your neck. His hand then slipped downwards, past the flat of your belly, his fingers slipping between the gap of your pants.

"Ruben please."

Your head fell back against his shoulder. He groped you blindly, grunting in your ear as you squealed whenever his fingers curled somewhere below, sliding between the wet folds between your legs.

"Ruben please!" You gasped, almost losing your footing as your legs trembled with the creeping orgasm.

"Fuck."

He kept on pleasing you until you slumped down against his chest, sighing in relief of your first orgasm. You turned around to face him, unsure what his stiff expression meant. Perhaps he was regretting where this was going. He kept up this persona until you supported yourself against him, descending to the floor to sit on your knees.

He watched your every move, his jaw clenching as you pulled down his sweats along with his underwear, his leaking erection now staring you in the face.

"Fuck." He wheezed. As your hand clenched around his stem, welcoming his dinasaur into your warm mouth.

He grunted and groaned, with the swirling your tounge did around his tip. He too struggled with his footing as your head moved vigorously, desprerate for him to feel as good as he had made you feel.

"Y/N."

He wouldn't let you finish though, his hand cupped your face to raise your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

He smiled down at you, his thumb stroking your cheek. You tried taking him into your mouth again,  however he really would let you.

"Ruben." Displeased, you pouted your lips.

He chuckled at this.

The smell of him warmed your insides as he knelt down beside you, bringing you to lay down on the floor. There he would go on to strip you of the rest of your clothes.

"Oh, so we're doing this here?" You chuckled, as his weight got on top of you pressed your back against the cold floor.

"I want you to feel my cock in your belly." He groaned.

You moaned, unprepared for what that actually felt like.

He heaved his body over you, placing himself between your trembling thigs. Your ass slapped against the hardwood floor as his hips thrusted against you, his dick digging deeper into you than you could've imagined.

"Fuck Ruben."

He silenced your muffled cries by putting his mouth against yours, kissing you deeply, to the point where you had to gasp for air.

"Ruben, I can't..."

His thrusts were aggressive. Increasing in pace as you tried to hold onto somthing, anything. But there were no bedsheets on the floor and so you clinged onto Ruben's shoulders, nipping at his skin with your teeth as you slipped under, letting him penitrate you to the point of his cum dripped down your inner thigh.

"I'm not upset, I'm angry." These were the only words that could describe the way Ruben fucked you that night. Like a man upset, but not angry.

Whatever that meant.

Tagslist:

@kathb59

@alexisquinnlee-bc

@husherstan

@rikirikiloml

@cinderellawithashoe

[enam3l]

Oooh while your requests are open what about Eddie buying reader the first big purchase after the band goes big

Eddie and reader had discussed being tight with the money he makes, still not used to their new life, but what if Eddie buys her a new car she desperately needs and it’s not just any car its a super car 😭 like she goes to work in her beat up beetle with the wobbly tailpipe and no air and comes out to a ferrari 😭😭😭😭😭😭

This is so cute! I'm gonna change it a lil if that's okay to fit the storyline so far. Basically, when reader and Eddie meet, Corroded Coffin have already released their debut album so he's pretty set for cash. Although he is still shook he has money but loves spending it on reader (like in their first holiday fic.) Check the comments for theeee car.

driving mrs munson (rockstar eddie x reader) ficlet / fluff

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

Once you were married, you and Eddie both decided to make Hawkins your permanent residence. Your house had been one that Eddie went past everyday when growing up, always admiring how it stood out from the other suburban cookie cutter houses. Once the band had been signed, as if by magic, for the first time ever the house was for sale. Eddie used the check to buy the house for himself, a reminder of his ultimate goal in life -  to fall in love and build a life and family with someone. Now that is exactly what was happening. 

Moving to Hawkins marked a the start of something you'd both always dreamed; creating a loving and safe family that you'd both grown up dreaming of. Although you and Eddie had both loved living in New York where you had spent your five years together getting into mischief, it was absent of the people you loved the most. The pair of you wanted the kids you longed for to grow up around their makeshift family. At night you'd hold each other and plan it all. How your kids would only know Wayne as Grandpa (regardless of biology, he was Eddie's father) and have sleepovers at his house. Or how they could walk down the road to play with Steve and Marissa's kids. And how they'd been spoilt rotten on birthdays and christmases by all their adoptive aunties and uncles. 

Whilst Eddie had always been back and forth between New York and Hawkins, it had been a very long time since you'd lived anywhere but a bustling city. So long that you'd forgotten about one issue - transport. It took a week before you were clutching your hair in frustration at a small town's answer to public transport. No subways or frequent buses to take you anywhere you desired. Eddie had to hide the smirk on his face watching you attempt to resurrect the battered white (and splattered with rust) Mustang you'd owned since before he knew you. Although he was grateful the old car was literally what brought into his life in February 89, Eddie wasn't keen about letting you continue to drive it. It was unreliable and was beginning to feel like sitting in the Flintstone's car, and whilst he loved being your personal chauffeur, it just wasn't feasible. So Eddie had a solution. 

One thing Eddie had found about being a rockstar was people were always trying to sell him things like cars. Ridiculous extravagant and expensive things that no human actually needs. Many parties and events he'd listen to other celebrities boast and croon over their latest purchase. Eddie had always thought it was surreal, looking round the room waiting for someone to reveal it was a prank. These people were buying cars that cost five times the trailer he'd grown up in with Wayne, and they dropped the cash so casually like it was a packet of cigarettes. But all of this did mean Eddie knew where to buy a good car from. 

Even before you'd gotten married and moved, Eddie had an inkling you'd be in need of a car once you moved. Therefore, he was thoroughly prepared for the moment. For months when you were out he dropped careful questions when you went past a car. 

'That one is cool, hey sweetheart?'

'Could you imagine driving a car that big?'

'I never knew you could get cars that colour...'

So with the help with some very eager salesmen, he'd whittled down the options to one he thought was perfect for you. And for the last month Eddie was waiting on the call to say they'd tracked down the exact car he wanted to you. 

As he watched you in the drive away flipping the bird and your old banger, Eddie struggled not to chuckle down the phone to the salesman. The car was ready for him to collect, finally. Eddie grabbed his jacket and keys and went to offer his chauffeur services one last time. 

'Want me to drop you off sweetheart?' 

Your frustrated little face turned to him and gave a small little nod. 

'Okay, get in Miss Daisy,' he chuckled giving a playful smack to your ass. 

Eddie dropped you off at Marissa and Steve's with a kiss. Then, sped off to pick up Wayne who would drive the van back for him as Eddie took your new car home. 

As he stood in the driveway admiring the beautiful vehicle, Eddie couldn't believe how perfectly the plan had come together. Steve was on his way to drop you home and everything was ready for your arrival. Even though the showroom had it perfect, Eddie had to make sure it was sparkling and had polished it himself. Then, he finished it off with a comically large bow he'd been hiding for weeks just for the occasion. Finally, Steve pulled up (still loyal to the BMW brand). Artfully, he was distracting you with chatter so you had yet to notice the new toy in front of your house. 

'Thank you Stevie! See you guys at the weekend!' You shouted through the open window before he sped off. What you didn't notice was the cheeky wink Steve gave Eddie before he left. You walked towards the house, totally oblivious as you fished for your keys until a cough from the the voice you'd recognise anywhere, caught your attention. 

'Jesus Ed you near-' your jaw dropped, along with your keys to the floor when you looked up. 

There stood your husband leaning like a model against the nicest car you'd ever seen. A Porsche 964. 

'Who? What? Whose is that?' you gawped, taking in the lush metallic paintwork. The sporty car was the colour of a glittery purple grape. 

'Yours, hot stuff,' Eddie's grin spread right across his face as he threw a set of keys your way. You stood shell shocked, only just managing to scramble to catch the keys before they pelted you in the head. 

The keys jangled as you analysed them, he was right - they were yours. Indicated by a keyring with a photo of you and Eddie from a photobooth on your honeymoon as well as another keyring with your new initials on. 

Y/I M

When you finally found your voice you scolded him. 

'Edward! What the fuck! You got this... for me?'

'Don't full name me, baby! I just bought you a badass car. Couldn't let you out in the death trap anymore,' he frowned. 

Of course, that was so Eddie, always looking at for you and putting you first. Your face crumpled, overwhelmed by his extravagant thoughtfulness. 

'Eds,' you gasped, 'you shouldn't have! You've just given me my dream wedding and honeymoon and hou-'

You're silenced by Eddie pinching your lips closed, a boyish grin on his face. 

'Sweetheart, I'd pay for that all again and more. Consider it a late wedding present or early birthday present. Look, where's my thank you kiss?' He pursed his soft lips. 

You launched yourself at him, arms and legs wrapping around him. Mouth pressed to his, then peppering the rest of his pretty face in misses. Eddie's hands tucked under your ass, fingers gripping your soft thighs as he deepened your kiss. He went to rest you on the bonnet until you pulled away, tutting. 

'Ah ah ah, don't muss my paintwork!' 

'Sorry sweetheart! Do you like it?' he asked so earnestly, as if you'd ever disliked anything he ever gave you. 

'Are you kidding, baby? It's perfect,' you squealed, fingers skating delicately over the car. 'Can we go for a drive?' 

Eddie's heart swelled watching your eyes wide with excitement, bouncing like a giddy child on the spot. 

'Of course! Let's go!'

Your hands lay intertwined with Eddie's on the centre console as you ventured down the winding Hawkins roads. Never in your life had you driven a car this spectacular, let alone owned one. The car glided effortlessly up the off-road path let led to Lovers Lake and you pulled to a stop. Eddie raised his eyebrow in confusion. 

'Whatcha doing sweetheart?'

Noticing your wicked smile. Your free hand inched up his chest until you reached his collar, pulling him close towards you. 

'Wanna see if this cars big enough to make out in?' your breath warm on Eddie's mouth. 

'Fuck yeah,' he gasps before latching onto your mouth. 

The pair of you grunted into each others mouths, tongues intertwining as both your hands wondered, tugging each other closer. Eventually you break for air. 

'Don't think it's quite big enough for car sexy anymore, will have to bend you over the bonnet,' Eddie smirks nipping at your neck. 

You swat him, feigning annoyance but his shamelessness never fails to make you laugh. 

'Behave... I don't want to ruin my paint job.'

The pair of your grin at each other, completely smitten. Eddie looks over his shoulder, straight out the rear window due to the absence of backseats. 

'We'll have to upgrade you once you're pregnant though,' his face is still cheeky but Eddie speaks with a slightly timid tone. His hand instinctively reaching out, warm and gentle on your soft tummy. You both look down at where his hand rests, butterflies in both your stomachs at the thought of what could be. 

my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja

[alex51324]

Hello! I figured you were the person to ask, so: do you know where I could find more info on Edwardian gender segregation laws? Like, the maids aren't allowed on the men's corridor, but what if you are a young maid who wants to visit the chauffeur's cottage because you want to ask the chauffeur's sweetheart about being gay because you are a small lesbian? Is Peter leaving the door open good enough? Would they have to find a bench somewhere on the estate gardens? Asking for spin-off fic purposes. (Also, I am sending you good vibes and will pray for you at shul.)

Hey! So, I'm not sure about sources, because a lot of this stuff wasn't written down at the time, but I'd say you're probably fine with having her visit the cottage. (I think I've had Anna visit them there, haven't I?)

First, visiting a whole separate dwelling with plenty of Stuff That Isn't Bedrooms would be generally less suspicious than going into the Corridor That Consists Entirely of Men's Bedrooms.

A key thing to remember about Victorian-to-Edwardian mores was that it was a lot more about the appearance of impropriety than what would actually, logically, give two people an opportunity to have illicit sex. Bedrooms and darkness were to be avoided at all costs, even in a house stuffed full of people; a parlor in broad daylight has an air of innocence even if the house is otherwise empty.

Second, if it's a spinoff, it's after the war, and The War Changed Things. In terms of the upper classes, chaperonage basically disappeared, and a woman calling on a man in his home during the day isn't necessarily something you would absolutely need to make sure that there's another woman present in order to do. (Although if you made a habit of it, that would be Noticed.)

For the working classes, things were even more relaxed; at this point, thanks to changes in mores and increased employment opportunities, you get people in the employers-of-servants classes complaining about how you pretty much have to allow your maids to have "followers" (boyfriends) these days, if you don't want them quitting the job after a few weeks.

Third, it is pretty much an open secret that Thomas and Peter are Like That, so that's probably going to slide them into the same category as, say, visiting the vicar or a man old enough to be your father--it doesn't really count as Visiting A Man, in the capital-letters sense.

So yeah, if they're in the front room with the curtains open, that should be fine--although if the maid makes the mistake of trying to avoid being seen going into the cottage, that would contribute to an appearance of impropriety.

There's some wiggle room to adjust it up or down depending on what you're going for--if you want it to be totally on the up-and-up, have her invent/volunteer for some errand, in the middle of the day; if you want an air of scandal, have her do a bit of lurking in the darkness (like that time canon!Thomas did outside of Anna and Bates's place).

[sad-sad-detective]

Random Ghoul headcanons to start the week.

Mountain is the only one in the pack who has hooves, though it's not an uncommon thing for ghouls as a species.

Dew is clumsy. You'd say, he has Dexterity -1. He runs into doors or slips on the ground and blames it on his shoes. The others pretend they believe him.

Both Rain and Dew are dyslexic but in different degrees.

Swiss has an online blog where he posts book reviews. His favorite genre? Romance. He also claims to be a fan of the Brontë sisters but the only book he’s read so far is Wuthering Heights.

Besides the bass, Rain also plays ukulele.

Aether is the best cook of the pack. Sunshine cannot cook but she often helps with cutting vegetables etc. Swiss, on the other hand, is strictly forbidden to even approach the stove.

Dew is a decent cook too, but he never learnt to use the coffee maker. He usually asks Aether or Rain to make him coffee.

Swiss is the only one who is allowed to (and can) drive. He often works as Copia's personal driver and enjoys it quite a lot. A while ago, he watched a video for Sting's "Desert Rose" and was greatly impressed by the chauffeur there.

The ghouls LOVE tabletop games. Cumulus is an absolute champion in Munchkin, but Mountain beats them all in Snakes and Ladders.

They are also gamblers and even have a bet jar. They mostly bet on events in Copia's personal life.

Cirrus is the band's chiropractor. Copia avoids her at all costs.

[kezzywrites]

I am so totally in love with her.

Steve had been acting strange for approximately two weeks and four days. Or at least that's when you had first noticed it. He’d gone from hardly ever being apart from you unless he was chauffeuring Dustin around, or at work with Robin, to avoiding you at all costs. 

Although to be fair to you, it wasn't your fault. The only reason he was totally blanking you is because three weeks ago he was hit square in the face by a realisation that Robin had been waiting for him to come to for the last two years. 

THE REALISATION. 

Steve stared as you walked out of Family Video, head resting on the palm of his hand. 

“You are so totally in love with her.” Robin said, smirking at Steve from where she was restocking the shelves to his left. 

“I so totally am not.” he said back, a small pout forming on his lips. 

“You so are! I can’t believe you don't see it. You spend practically all your time with her, you always hold her favourite movies when they come in, and i'm 98% sure if she asked you to run into a flaming building to grab a sweater for her you would do it.”

“I so would no-”

“Yes you would! Example A, when her car broke down in that blizzard last year and she called you because she didn't know the number for the garage and you drove all the way across Hawkins to come pick her up even though there was a weather warning for the whole of Indiana and the news weather guys told people not to drive! Example B, the time that she got stood up on a date and she didn't tell you because she didn't want you to do anything stupid but when you found out from me, you bought her all her favourite snacks, rented FIVE of her favourite movies and didn't leave until she felt better about herself. Example C, when she got that date in the first place you totally grilled her about him and then sulked to yourself when he sounded like a decent person! And I know this is awful to say but I'm kinda glad you were right about not liking him because I don't think I could have dealt with listening to you complain about another guy she dates. Now are three examples enough for you to admit that you’re in love with her or do I need to carry on.”

A beat passed.

“I am so totally in love with her.”

NOW. 

The party had arranged a movie night and to put it lightly you weren't looking forward to it, you were obviously going to go because you couldn't let the kids down but having to sit next to Steve for a few hours in awkward silence? No thank you!

 You weren't exactly sure what you did that Steve gave you the cold shoulder for but it was kind of getting to you. The two of you had become friends after the first annoyance of saving the world together, to people in the wrong place in the wrong time, you dropping something off at the Byers house for Joyce after hearing about Will, courtesy of your mother, and Steve trying apologise to Johnathan after the fight they had. It was after that that you and Steve became practically inseparable, joined at the hip. You did almost everything together and you think it's because at the time of your meeting you both felt this void of loneliness but when you were together, it seemed to dissipate. 

It only took a month and a half after his break up with Nancy to realise that the feelings you had towards the boy were not completely platonic. There was no ‘Oh you’re falling in love with him’ moment it was more of an ‘Oh you’re already in love with him but you’re going to completely ignore it, push it down, and pray to whatever god is up there that it goes away because he's your best friend and you don't want to lose him’ kind of moment. So that’s what you’d done, you'd shoved down your feelings and got on with being friends, up until almost three weeks ago. You’d gone into family video to rent ‘The Breakfast Club’ for what felt like the hundredth time and as you had been talking to Steve, he had been short with you, treating you like he didn't know you at all, so you'd left, watched the movie, and when you came to return it, the second he saw you walk through the doors, he’d called for Robin and taken his break. It confused and upset you. Your next few interactions had gone the same way; he had dropped Dustin off at your place because he wanted some help on an English presentation that he wasn't too fond of doing and Steve hadn't even gotten out of the car to say hello. That was when you'd given up trying and that was how you ended up not really seeing each other until tonight. 

You were having the movie night at Steve's place because he had the biggest TV and the most room so it made sense, but that also meant you had to deal with the awkwardness of not knowing what to do with yourself again, just like you did the first time you were at his house; perching on the edge of sofas, waiting for him to offer drinks instead of getting yourself them and the conversations you used to have that couldn't have lasted more than 10 words. 

 You knocked on the door and waited patiently until you saw a flash of hair that most definitely wasn't Steves. 

“Hi! Do you have the snacks?” Dustin said as he almost flung the door of its hinges. 

You had been assigned the role of bringing the junk food for the seven thousand four hundred and six children the seven of you adults shared. 

“Yeah, I should have brought enough shit, I-I dont know you'll need to check but don't expect me to run and get more if there isn't, im sure youll survive with one less bag of chips.”

Dustin grabbed the plastic bag full of snacks with a grin and led you inside. The familiar house made you feel on edge, you'd not stepped foot in it for over a month and filled you with dread knowing what came next. Steve. He sat on his sofa, in conversation? Argument? With Eddie. To their right sat Nancy and Robin, on two comfy chairs, they smiled at you as Dustin dragged you further in the house. On the floor in the corridor you saw Jonathan and Argyle, the two of them had been high pretty much since they got back from california and you could smell the weed on them from feet away. 

You made your way into the kitchen as Dustin poured the snacks out of the bag, you heard the door click behind you. You turned around to see Robin with a small smile on her face. 

“Hey, how are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in literal ages!” she reached forward to give you a hug, which you gladly returned. 

“Yeah, Steve and I haven't really been speaking lately and I'm not sure why, I don't know if it was something I said, or something I did or even something I didn't do but he's avoiding me like the plague” You watched as Robin's face dropped while you were talking. 

“Oh you have got to be shitting me! I totally cannot believe him!” She started to head out of the room, undoubtedly to go and hopefully knock some sense into him but right before she hit the door she turned back, looked at Dustin and told him to scram. She then looked back at you and said “I swear by the end of tonight you’ll be talking again he just needs to get his head out of his ass”

“Wha-” 

But before you could ask any questions she was out of the door. 

You made your way into the living room and sat down on the end of the sofa, next to Max. She looked up at you with her eyes that were a little bigger courtesy of her glasses and smiled which you returned and gave her a shoulder hug. You were going to ask her how she was and about her day but Steve already had the remote in his hands and all the kids were sitting on the floor ready and excited. 

 You all silenced as the opening credits of The Labyrinth started playing and everyone made themselves comfortable. 

It got to maybe twenty minutes in the movie when Steve whispered to you all that he was getting a drink and he'd be right back. You shot a glance at Robin and she was very ardently giving you hand gestures, shooing you to follow him. So you did. Because quite frankly you were sick of being ignored by someone you were so close too. 

You step into the kitchen quietly behind Steve and watch him pull a glass out of the cabinet above him. You watch him fill it with water from the fridge and as he turns around you see him jump when he sees you. 

“Christ you scared the shit out of me”

“Have I done something wrong?” You ask 

You watch as his face morphs into one of confusion

“Wha- No! Why would you think that?”

“Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that you've ignored me for three weeks, we went from talking everyday to not talking at all steve. Why?”

“I- um well-” he stuttered, he had a nervous look on his face, almost as if he'd been caught. 

“I just don't understand” you say with frustration, “Is it something I did? Or something I said? Or even something I didn't do just tell me so I can fix it! It's been killing me! I just don't understand why you've been avoi-”

“I'm in love with you.” he blurts out. You watch his features go from panic to relief to panic again. 

You pause and look up at him. You can feel your stomach twist. 

“That's not funny Steven.”

“Wasn't supposed to be.”

“So you've been avoiding me because you love me?”

“Yep” he nodded 

“And you didn't want to tell me?”

“Yep”

“You are so fucking stupid.”

“Ye- No! Wait hold on, I'm not stupid I thought I was doing the right thing! I thought if I ignored you it would go away and we could be friends again” he spoke, flailing his hands around. 

You stared up at him as he continued his rant about how he didnt want to sacrifice his friendship with you because he was completely sure you didn't feel the same way and you were just getting more and more frustrated by the second so you did what anyone would do. 

You grabbed his face and kissed him. 

You felt him tense as his words got pressed against your lips and then relax as he grabbed your waist. His mouth slid against your own with passion as you shoved your hands in his hair and tugged gently. He groaned against your mouth and you could feel him smile against your lips. You pulled away for air and he chased you a little, only opening his eyes when he couldn't feel you where you were before. 

“I told you you were really fucking stupid”

He gave you a breathless laugh, his nose pressing against yours. 

“Yeah, maybe i am” 

You both giggled as he pecked your lips again. 

“You know I love you too right?”

He grinned.

[door2doorservices]

Airport Shuttle vs. Private Transfers: A Complete Guide for Travelers

When it comes to getting from the airport to your destination, travelers have a range of options, from budget-friendly airport shuttles to high-end private airport transfer services. This guide will help you understand the differences, benefits, and options available so you can choose the right service for your needs.

What is an Airport Shuttle Service?

An airport shuttle is a shared transportation service, ideal for budget-conscious travelers who don’t mind a bit of extra travel time. Here’s what you can expect:

Shared Ride: Airport shuttles pick up multiple passengers from various locations, such as hotels or designated spots, en route to the airport or from the airport to various destinations. Expect multiple stops for pick-ups and drop-offs.

Pre-Booking Required: Passengers generally book in advance, providing details of their flights and destinations. Some services may have flexible schedules to accommodate passenger needs.

Affordable Option: Compared to private transfers, shuttles are budget-friendly, making them ideal for solo travelers, groups who don’t mind sharing a ride, or those looking for cheap airport transfers from Gold Coast to Brisbane.

Perfect For: Travelers seeking cheap airport transfers on the Gold Coast or door-to-door airport shuttle services with a flexible schedule.

Private Airport Transfers and Limousine Services

Private airport transfers or limousine services offer an exclusive and tailored experience, catering to passengers looking for convenience, privacy, and comfort.

Exclusive Ride: Private transfers mean you have the entire vehicle to yourself or your group, with no extra stops along the way.

Professional Drivers & Luxury Vehicles: Passengers can expect professional chauffeurs, high-quality vehicles, and personalized service. Options may range from sedans and vans to luxury limousines, giving passengers flexibility based on their needs.

Direct Door-to-Door Service: A key benefit is the door-to-door service, which can be scheduled at any time. This is especially valuable for travelers who prioritize a fast and direct route, whether it’s a transfer from Brisbane Airport to the Gold Coast or a return trip.

Perfect For: Those looking for gold coast private transfers, gold coast personal transfers, or a ride share from Brisbane Airport to the Paradise Country Farm or Southport to Gold Coast Airport.

Comparing Airport Shuttles and Private Transfers

Choosing the Right Service for You

Your choice between an airport shuttle and a private transfer largely depends on your travel needs and budget.

Budget-Friendly Option: Choose an airport shuttle if you prioritize affordability and don’t mind sharing a ride. This is ideal for solo travelers or those looking for cheap couriers and cheapest airport transfers on the Gold Coast.

Comfort & Convenience: If you value privacy, flexibility, and comfort, a private transfer or limousine service will better suit your needs. This is ideal for families, business travelers, or anyone seeking door-to-door couriers and premium transportation options like gold coast transfers or Brisbane airport transfers to the Gold Coast.

Frequently Asked Questions

1. Can I get a same-day courier from Brisbane?

Yes, there are same-day couriers in Brisbane that offer fast delivery services, ideal for urgent shipments.

2. What’s the best way to get from Brisbane Airport to the Gold Coast?

For those prioritizing cost, an airport shuttle is an affordable choice. For direct, no-stop service, consider private transfers.

3. Are rideshare services available from Brisbane to the Gold Coast?

Yes, rideshare from Brisbane Airport to the Gold Coast is available, offering a balance between cost and privacy.

Key Takeaways

When deciding on an airport shuttle or a private transfer, consider the following:

Budget: Airport shuttles are budget-friendly, while private transfers offer premium service.

Travel Time: Private transfers offer a quicker, direct route.

Convenience: Door-to-door service is a significant benefit of private transfers, providing a hassle-free experience.

Whether you’re booking a Gold Coast airport transfer service for your family holiday or need a courier company in Brisbane for urgent deliveries, understanding these options will help ensure a smooth and stress-free journey.

Popular Services to Consider

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Brisbane Courier Services

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Choosing the right transport is key to a seamless trip, so assess your priorities and budget for a pleasant experience, be it an airport shuttle, private transfer, or door-to-door airport transfer service!

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[more-than-a-princess]

@mechatiqe asked: [ 12 ] a lonely bus stop at 2am, (except kaz is snoozing away on the bench there)

Various Settings/Location Prompts - Accepting!

It was one of the few times Sonia would let her perfect posture slip: where no one could see her, or paid enough attention or care to tell her otherwise. In the back of the black car, with its tinted windows and bulletproof exterior, she leaned against the leather seats after fastening her seatbelt, driver and bodyguard in the front. Upscale parties that stretched late into the night, even after a full day of classes, were a test to both her nerves and her stamina. As soon as she'd been free to leave Miss Yukizome's homeroom, her private tutoring sessions for the day had been entirely devoted to primping for that night's gala: skin and hair and nails and makeup, well before she even donned her gown and jewelry that had been painstakingly selected for her via video call at home. Every bit of her appearance, from her looks to her gestures to her words, had to send just the right message to the organizers and attendees: that Princess Sonia of Novoselic was inquisitive and respectful of their culture and customs, not appropriative, and she was delighted to represent her father in all sorts of polite chit-chat, photographs, and dances when requested. Of course, a speech was expected as well, in nothing less than flawless Japanese delivered with the brightest smile.

No pressure, save for the ones that cut into her heels and toes. Weight of the diamonds and emeralds at her ears, neck, and wrist aside, it was her shoes that brought along the aches and pains. As the car turned a corner onto a busier road, well away from the tucked-away mansion in the city's most expensive area, she reached down to unbuckle the small straps around each ankle, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the glittery shoes aside.

"Are you more at ease now, Your Royal Highness?" A question in Italian came from up front. Insistent that Sonia not muck up the event, her mother had sent over a guard from Novoselic personally recommended and vetted by her family's head of security who would be certain to keep the Princess in line and on task in the absence of her personal secretary. In public, anyway: in the privacy of the car, Luca hadn't given a single care to how his client slouched in her dress, one that easily cost a three month's salary for the average Japanese office worker, against the seat or how she so easily discarded the shoes her mother had insisted upon. By a coveted French designer that pinched and prodded Sonia's toes.

"Very much so, Luca, I feel as if I might finally breathe today," She smiled, knowing it would be reflected in the rearview mirrors. Breathing, much less eating, were secondary and tertiary activities in her gown, considering how fitted it was through the bodice, but for now she didn't mind. Soon enough she'd be back in the safety and comfort of her dorm, her gown hung on its satin-padded hanger, while she dug into the chicken karaage, onigiri, and sweets the chauffeur had picked up for her from the konbini and that all three of them had made a pact not to tell her family about later. She deserved indulgences here and there, even if they were ones the Novoselic Royal Family didn't approve of.

Just like extending a helping hand when it couldn't be recorded for future posterity, or at least a necessary PR campaign in the wake of a scandal. As they pulled up to a stoplight, Sonia glanced out her window, her tired eyes suddenly no longer feeling so tired. A familiar shade of hot pink, of black lined eyes and a hat and jumpsuit: Kazuichi Soda looked far less animated than his usual self in her presence. On the contrary, he seemed to be waiting for a bus, fast asleep. A bus, she noticed after rolling down the window and sticking out her beautifully-coiffed head to read the sign beside the bench, that likely wasn't coming: the bus ended its route nearly two hours prior, if the sign beside him was accurate.

Sonia frowned. She couldn't very well leave him there, but this was Kazuichi she was considering. Their friendship, for all intents and purposes, was a relatively new development of relatively new mutual respect: he no longer called her Miss Sonia or put her on a pedestal, and she no longer referred to him as her stalker and pursued a restraining order. They were navigating uncharted waters, so to speak, and the last thing either of them needed was for him to read into a situation for something that wasn't there. Still, it would be cruel to simply drive by and allow him to sleep on a bench.

She cleared her throat, having made her decision. "Soda-san!" She called from the car. To no avail, it seemed, before she quickly instructed her driver to remain idle by the bus stop for a few moments longer. Nodding in satisfaction, she stuck her head back out the window again: was she truly going to 'cat call' him? That was what it was, right? When people hung their heads out the window to garner the attention of someone else?

"Soda Kazuichi-san!" She spoke again, this time louder, with full intent to wake him and anyone else in a fifty meter radius. "What are you doing out here so late? I am afraid the buses have stopped driving their routes ages ago. But if you would like, I am happy to share my car with you back to Hope's Peak Academy."