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lqveharrington · 7 months ago

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If Only | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer were bond through the soulmate system, but how could you be soulmates when he had Lilith?

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x fallen seraphim!reader

includes: kinda soulmate au? fluff, angst, mentions of death, lucifer feeling like a bad parent (that’s pretty much it, let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i wrote this at night the other day. toward the very end i was very proud of what i wrote 😭🙏 time for my requests i’ve gotten !!!

Ever since Lilith left Lucifer seven years ago, he never expected to meet another who made his heart soar. He fell into a deep state of depression and only started to get out more when Charlie invited him to stay at the hotel after the latest extermination. He got his own royal suite and joined in on Charlie’s lessons, but it still wasn’t enough to keep up with his daughter’s upbeat attitude every day.

It wasn’t enough to help pull him out of his depression until you came along to the hotel.

The moment you stepped into the hotel and greeted Charlie with the same enthusiasm made him smile. It was just another plus that you were a fallen angel, more so a fallen seraphim. And he swore that when you first met his gaze for that split second your eyes glowed pink as he felt his eyes do the same. He thought that would never happen again, but here he stood with an adoring face while you spoke to his daughter like you’ve known her since she was a child.

Soon enough, you and Lucifer were introduced to one another properly, the pink glow in both your eyes returning.

“It’s nice to meet the head man himself.” You grin as he kisses the back of your hand. “And such a gentleman as well.”

“What can I say? I’m quite the ladies' man.” He winked as he saw you burn bright.

As months passed since your first official interaction, you and Lucifer grew closer, bonding on your similar and different experiences. Whether you bonded over one of Charlie’s redemption activities or relaxed in his suite, you both found contentment in each other, letting each other enjoy the company.

“You know, I’m not going to relax when you keep tugging my book away.” You grab his wrist as he reaches for the book for the nth time in thirty minutes. “I’m going to leave your room.”

“Please don’t.” He tugged you closer to his side, head resting on your shoulder. “I don’t want to move from this spot again.”

You tilt your head toward him, eyes glowing a faint pink. “Then let me read.” You let a small smile slip through when he grumbled an incoherent sentence.

Lucifer’s eyes softened when you returned to read your book, watching your eyes scan the words in front of you. His mind and heart racing a million miles per hour whenever you were around. He couldn’t decide what was right. Was his heart telling him to move on? Or was it just aching to be affectionate with another?

The signs were pointing in different ways, but surely the answer was right in front of him. He just had to understand what it was before the magic between you two would fully disappear.

“Staring is highly distracting, Luce.” Your eyes flit up to meet him again. “I can’t focus.”

“You must really like me then.” He gave you a cocky grin

You roll your eyes, shutting the book. “You’ve ruined the book for me. I’m never going to finish that book now.”

“That book wasn’t good anyways.” He brought the comforter up and over the both of you. He locked his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his front. You felt yourself loosen up by his touch, letting out a small breath of exhaustion. “I’m spent after all the bonding activities today, beautiful. I think we can skip our kitchen run tonight and just go to bed.”

“Were you really waiting for me to finish reading so we could sleep?” You murmur as you feel him nod. You let out a small laugh, “Wow, I would have never stooped so low.”

Lucifer shushed you, “I’m sleeping, good night.”

A soft smile takes over your burning face, turning in his arms to face him. “Good night, Luce.”

He didn’t say anything else but quietly played with your hair, listening to your steady breathing as sleep consumed you. Lucifer always made sure you fell asleep first, wanting you to get a good night's sleep before he did. Yet, he didn’t exactly know when you both went from friends to whatever this was, but he wasn’t complaining if he got to see you sleep in his arms every once in a while.

And it wasn’t like Lucifer was the only one to notice your unusual relationship with one another. You noticed it as well. From the soft touches to the sleepovers at his suite, you knew it was more than just a simple friendship. But what could you do when he still wore his wedding ring?

“What’s happening?” You lay your legs across Lucifer’s lap, taking a glance at the news channel cast upon his suite’s television.

Lucifer rubbed your calf, golden ring a cold contrast to his warm fingers. “They’re interviewing Charlie for her hotel. They know how the extermination happened this year, so I’m hoping the questions are more targeted toward how her hotel will work than how it was fighting angels.”

You frown at the feel of his ring, even more so when he mentions the death of angels. “What happened the last time they interviewed her?”

He scoffed, “They were so rude to her. I mean, I understand we’re in Hell, but she’s their fucking princess. They only brought down her ideas, not asking enough about how she intends to accomplish redemption. I wish I could have done something back then, you know? Show them why I’m the King of Hell.”

You reach across to link a hand with his, giving him a small smile when he meets your glowing pink eyes that match his pair. “Luce, you’re a wonderful parent. I know you want to protect your daughter, but it’s in the past. She knows you love her and look at you two now! You’re supporting her dreams and whatever lies in store for them.”

“Thank you…” He felt the golden ring become heavy on his finger, an uncomfortable weight that was never there appearing. “You’re not half bad of a parent yourself.”

“What?” You let out a confused laugh, thumbing his hand. “I’m not anyone’s parent.”

“Yeah, but—“ He gestured toward the television where they switched the camera toward Charlie before switching to a quick commercial break. “—You've been more of a mother to Charlie than her biological mother in one year. The second you stepped into this hotel, she lit up around you.” His downturned smile grew bigger when you tilted your head. “Charlie may be a very trusting person, but she knows when someone is going to support her with anything she accomplishes. You were one of those people.”

You feel yourself warm at the small confrontation, “I’m sure she thinks of me as any other resident at the hotel, Luce. Don’t boost my ego, you have enough for the both of us.”

“Hey now.” He squeezed your leg. “I’m being nice, and you’re just hurling insults at my face.”

“Me? Never.”

He continued to rub a small pattern, thoughts running back and forth before turning back to you. “I’m serious though. She really loves you… Almost as much as I do.”

Your eyes widened, meeting his eyes that were now glowing a much brighter pink than usual. “You… I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I admire you a lot, beautiful.” He confessed, confidence boosting his voice. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, and not just because of your looks. You handled Charlie better than I did in the last seven years, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to let her be herself when I’m not around.”

Your eyes glowed brighter at his words, squeezing his hand. “Lucifer, I admire you as much as you love Charlie, but it’s a matter of soulmates versus those of the past.” You gesture toward his ring, pursing your lips at the sight. “Are you sure you’re truly ready to move on? From the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never taken that ring off.”

“I’m sure.” He let his hand holding yours drift up to cradle your cheek, snapping his finger to get rid of the ring and away in his back drawer. “She’s left me for almost a whole decade, I think I have the permission to move on.��

You melt into his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “If it’s what you really want, Luce.”

“It is.” He left a small kiss at your temple. “Because I know you’ll still be with me when all of Hell falls apart and all my magic is gone.”

“You’re so cheesy.” You lean back on the couch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Will you officially be mine, Lucifer Morningstar?”

“Always, beautiful.” He kept your hands linked as he pressed a promise kiss to your ring finger. “Always.”

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k3n-dyll · 8 months ago

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Vouyer [Abby A.]

||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: 18+, wlw, a lot of porn - a pinch of plot if you squint and turn your head, subbottom!abby, domtop!reader, Abby getting caught, masturbation, voyeurism cus reader watches her for a hot minute, fingering(A!receiving), tribbing, perv!reader and perv!abby kinda, overstimulation, Abby cries a lil bit

AN: I feel like my brain fizzed out near the end idk. I think I'm cooked. Anyways, hope this doesn't suck ass as much as my brain is telling me it does!

Masterlist. Divider creds DON'T FORGET ABOUT PALESTINE

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ "Just like that- fuck" the words escape her lips, sounding strained and breathless. A thin layer of sweat coats her toned body as she fills herself up to the best of her ability, her thick fingers ramming in and out of her used, sloppy cunt as she chases her orgasm for the third time tonight.

This was not how she had planned for her night to go, but if you could have only seen just how pretty you'd looked; drenched in sweat from head to toe, clothes sticking to every curve of your bruised and bloodied body after such a close call on patrol earlier that day. She'd almost compromised herself just to get a glimpse of you looking like that. Her piercing blue eyes tracked your every movement, once the threat - a pack of infected that had attacked while you were both searching for supplies - was gone.

Or at least she'd thought they were at the time until she felt a pair of gnarled and decaying hands grab onto her shoulders. She killed the thing herself, of course, knocking the stalker off balance with one hard whack of a steel pipe before throwing it onto the ground, forcing the heel of her boot down onto its sprouting head with a splat. Not realizing that it was you she had been distracted by, you gave her a disapproving eye roll and she winced.

It was her own fault you weren't that fond of her, the blonde has ignored you since you first showed up at the WLF a few months back. Even when you became roommates, Abby's demeanor towards you was always cold and disinterested. It was stupid but she figured it was best. She was unable to even think about saying a word to you without her palms sweating. She just knew she'd fuck up and stumble over her words, making herself look weak in front of you and she couldn't have that.

When Abby learned that you were going to spend part of your night drinking with Manny, Owen, and Nora, she took the opportunity to lie.

" 'm tired. Think I'm gonna just go to bed" she had mumbled, feigning exhaustion, going so far as to force a yawn out before she walked back to the room. Alone.

The girl didn't make it five minutes without touching herself, getting comfortable in bed, and shoving her hand down her underwear. Dumbly, she figured that maybe if she just got off once, she could get the image of you out of her brain.

That was how she got where she is now. Naked, driving her middle and ring fingers as deep as she can get them, pumping them in and out of her cunt, her other hand joining as she rubs feverishly over her sensitive clit. The scene is downright pornographic, the sloshing sounds coming from Abby's body as she fucks herself stupid on her own fingers, her jaw slack, your name spilling from her soft lips in sinful prayer.

She wants it to be you so bad, it's almost pathetic.

She can't bring herself to stop - she just knows it'd feel so much better if your hands replaced her own and the rest of her body seems to agree with that thought. So much so that every time she tries to stop or give herself a break that ache comes back full force, a heartbeat forming between her thick thighs. It gets so bad that she considers walking to your side of the room and grabbing one of your t-shirts because at this point your scent could get her there.

"Jus' one more, one more, baby pleasepleaseplease - holy shit"

That third orgasm hits Abby like a truck, her begging eventually becoming a mess of incoherent babbling under her breath, her body twitching as she comes down from her high. Again. And again, it isn't enough. She can't take her mind off of just how fucking good you would look on top of her - god - the mere thought of having your pretty pussy slotted up against hers is enough to make her crave more.

Abby lets out a deep sigh and plops her head back down onto the pillow underneath her as she tries to catch her breath, thinking maybe she should just try to sleep it off. Despite her better judgement though, she finds herself with the pads of her fingers back on her puffy, pulsing clit, stroking herself in languid circular motions.

You stood in the entryway of your room, peeking your head in the door to watch as Abby fucking Anderson of all people split herself on her fingers, letting out the prettiest moans as she chases her release. You knew that you should probably just close the door and quietly sneak away. Go back to the mess hall with your group, maybe pretend you forgot something, and then conveniently "lose track of time" while you were there so that your roommate could finish her little "session".

You really were going to leave. As a matter of fact, you were halfway through closing the door when you heard something that made you stop in your tracks. It was Abby.

And she was moaning your name.

The sound was unmistakable as it was one of the only words you were able to fully recognize through her stupor of bated breaths and blissed-out whining. The frigid, unstoppable force of a soldier that had been ignoring your existence for months was actually begging for you, crying out your name over and over again as she fucked herself.

You found yourself biting your lip at the sound, and before you knew it, you were tip-toeing all the way into your shared room. You practically held your breath as you closed the door behind you, freezing completely once it clicked shut and lightly punching the air in silent celebration once you had confirmed you managed to sneak in undetected.

It was all so perverted, and yet you couldn't stop staring

You were leaning up against the wall beside the door, trying your best to be quiet and resist the urge to shove your hand down your own pants as you watched Abby's naked body convulse under her fingers when she came, eyes trailing over her body as she rode out her high.

It became clear pretty quickly that she'd been at this for a while, unable to satisfy herself completely. You watched as she began to start herself up again, her hand making its way back down between her thighs, her legs twitching still from her previous climax. From what you can see of her face, she seems a bit frustrated, her eyebrows knotted together in almost anger as she lazily works her fingers on her clit. She looks and sounds so precious that, before you can fully think it through, you speak.

"Still not finished?"

Abby nearly falls out of her bed with how quickly she shoots upward, covering herself with her blanket, a deep red blush fanning out along her freckled cheeks. It doesn't take much for her to realize that you heard her, your expression telling her everything she needed to know.

"I was, uh-..."

"Yeah, I heard...and saw" you interrupt, making your way over to the blonde's bed, unable to contain your amusement at the situation as your eyes trail over her.

" 'S this why you've been avoiding me, baby?"

She just stares at you, not fully knowing why she can't bring herself to do anything - to deny your suspicion, yell at you, or do something that would make her stop feeling so vulnerable right now. But she just looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.

"You could have just asked me for some help with that if you wanted it, y'know." you continue, gently gripping her under her chin to make her look at you.

Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, Abby considers pulling away from you. Getting mad and reasserting her dominance or something but you both know that isn't going to happen. You catch a glimpse of her fingers, glistening and wrinkly from how long she's been trying to get herself off, and your suspicions are confirmed which only emboldens you to go further. You lean down a bit closer, your face so close to hers that your noses nearly touch.

"You can't satisfy yourself no matter how hard you try, can you?"

Abby squirms a little but she shakes her head slightly in response, eyes breaking contact with yours but your hand never releases her jaw. You've never seen her look this exposed before - not only in terms of her nakedness but she just looked so vulnerable and small right now, despite her actual size.

You press a kiss to her lips, and she practically melts into you, allowing you to lay her back down on the mattress and crawl on top of her, your hand caught in her loosened braid. The other hand wanders down between her legs, eager to feel the sticky mess that shes turned herself into over the thought of you.

The sweet little whines she gives you as you circle your fingers along her clit are so unfamiliar coming from her but oh so welcome as opposed to her usual stoicism. You almost feel bad for the fact that shes had to wait for so long to finally get that release shes in desperate need of. A release that can only seem to be triggered by your hand.

If Abby wasn't already embarrassed for having been caught, she was sure as hell embarrassed with how quickly you got her to cum on your fingers. You've barely gotten the chance to get them inside of her before her irises roll back, head thrown onto the pillow beneath her as her body twitches in ecstasy.

"S-sorry, I-"

You see her begin to apologize but she's cut off completely at the sight of you sucking her essence off of your fingers, her words being yanked right from her mouth as her arousal comes back with a force. She knows she's way too sensitive to do anything else, but the thought of saying no to you right now doesnt even cross her mind as an option once you start pulling off your clothes.

It's all she can do to keep her hands to herself while you strip. Those vivid blue eyes are glued to your body, enamored by the perfection being uncovered in front of her. You place yourself back on top of her, hiking her leg up over your shoulder and lowering yourself until her cunt is pressed flush against your own. You let out a simultaneous groan at the feeling, grinding yourself down onto her with little regard for how sensitive she is.

"Hnmn- fuck" Abby's hips buck upward involuntarily, her body telling her that she's had enough, but it feels too good to stop.

She couldn't tell you it was too much if she wanted to anyway, every attempted word coming out of her mouth as incoherent whines and half-finished syllables. You watch her face intently as a few tears begin to make their way down her reddened cheeks and it only makes you pick up the pace, pressing wet kisses against the side of her calf as your clit perfectly ruts against hers with each thrust.

"You've wanted this so fuckin' bad, haven't you?" You tease her through gritted teeth, the words spilling out without much thought.

"Want me to fuck you till you cant fuckin breathe, hm?"

All that comes out of Abby in response are breathless "yes's" all jumbled into one word followed desperate little whines, her fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips as if she's afraid you'll stop if she lets go.

"G'na cu- ohmygod" she tries to warn but the poor girl can barely think. You hear her loud and clear though, making a point to apply a bit more pressure, the sloppy noises coming from your bodies moving against one another in tandem bringing you close as well.

The orgasm that results sends electricity through your body, pleasure that's only heightened by the uncontained scream that pulls from Abby's throat when she cums with you, drenching your inner thighs even more. She doesn't even seem to care if anyone hears her, too fucked out to even try to keep her mouth shut. Mercifully, you take the responsibility away from her, crashing your lips onto hers and muffling the sound in the hard, wet kiss.

The euphoria lingers even after you've slowed to a stop, heavy, labored breathing and Abby's soft whimpers the only sounds that occupy the room. A low chuckle escapes you as you pepper soft kisses along her cheeks, your thumb accompanying to wipe up her pretty tears.

AN: One thing I suck at doing is thinking of a way to fuckin close these

reblogs appreciated☆requests open

Almost forgot, taglist: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery, @ikoinsblog

#lesbian #wlw #☆kennie's works #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby the last of us #the last of us #abby tlou2 #tlou2 smut #tlou2

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harrysfolklore · 6 months ago

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when in italy - harry blurb

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"I swear is this way!" a very drunk Harry said, pointing out to the street in front of him, "I've walked down these streets a shit ton of times, I know how to get back."

"Harry, darling," Alessandro said, standing in front of him, "Let's just admit that we're lost and ask for directions."

"No! I know the way!" he stubbornly protested and headed the way he initially pointed, almost tripping on his own feet due to his drunk state.

Alessandro followed him, he knew how stubborn Harry got whenever he was drunk, and decided to trust him with the task of getting them back to their place in Italy for their holiday.

"Harry, I'm afraid we're walking in circles," Alessandro said once he noticed that they were back in the same place they were a few minutes before and they had been walking for almost 10 minutes now.

"Shit," Harry stopped on his tracks, "I think we're lost."

Alessandro rolled his eyes at his friend, "I'm going to ask for directions."

Harry sat on the sidewalk as he watched his friend walk towards some shops that were still open in the area, giggling to himself over the fact that he got lost in the place he called his second hometown (that, and the fact that he was completely wasted)

"Hey," a soft voice called for him, making him look up, "I'm sorry to bother you but I heard you and your friend are kind of lost, I live around the area and I could give you directions if you need them."

Harry blinked a few times, trying to get a proper look at the person in front of him in his drunken state.

And once he did, oh boy was he mesmerized.

The young woman standing before him had a warm smile, her eyes sparkling under the streetlights. She looked at Harry with a mix of amusement and concern, clearly recognizing him but choosing not to make a big deal out of it.

"Thanks," Harry slurred, trying to get up from the sidewalk and failing spectacularly. He giggled again, this time at his own clumsiness. "I think I need some help."

"Yeah, I think you do," she laughed softly and reached out a hand to help him up, "I'm YN, by the way," she introduced herself as Harry took her hand, his grip unsteady.

"I'm Harry," he replied, still looking at her with a dopey grin. "Alessandro!" Harry yelled out calling for his friend, who was making his way back to them, "I found this pretty girl that says she can walk us back home."

The girl felt her cheeks burn at his words, looking away from him in hopes that her blush would disappear.

"Thank you so much for your help," he said, "I'm Alessandro."

"Nice to meet you, Alessandro," YN said warmly, "So, where are you two trying to go?"

Harry attempted to answer but ended up mumbling incoherently. Alessandro stepped in, giving her the address of their holiday home.

"Oh, that's just a few blocks away," YN said, "I'll walk you there. It's no trouble."

"You're an angel," Harry proclaimed dramatically, leaning on Alessandro for support as they started walking.

"So, YN," Harry said as they walked down the street, "Do you live here, or are you just visiting?"

"I live here," she said, "Moved here a few years ago for work and fell in love with the place. It's a beautiful city."

"It really is," Alessandro agreed, "Thanks again for helping us out, Harry can be a bit stubborn when he's had a few too many."

"I'm not!" Harry protested, "I know this place like the back of my hand, I'm just dizzy right now."

"It’s alright, Harry," YN laughed softly at Harry’s protest, finding his drunken stubbornness endearing, "We all have our moments."

As they walked, Harry continued to lean heavily on Alessandro, but his attention was fixed on YN. "So, what do you do here, YN?"

"I’m a photographer," she replied, glancing at Harry with a smile. "I came here for a project and ended up staying. The city has a way of pulling you in."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, almost losing his balance again, making both Alessandro and YN giggle.

"What kind of photography do you do?" Alessandro chimed in.

"Mostly street photography and portraits," YN explained. "I love capturing candid moments, the beauty in everyday life."

"That’s amazing," Alessandro said genuinely, "You must have some incredible shots."

"I do love my work. It’s always different, always exciting."

"Do you ever take pictures of drunk idiots lost in the streets?" Harry joked making YN throw her head back in laughter.

"Not yet, but there's a first time for everything," YN chuckled.

"I’d love to see your work sometime," Harry grinned widely at her response.

"Maybe you will," she replied, her tone teasing yet sincere.

As they neared the holiday home, Alessandro let out a sigh of relief. "Here we are," he announced, pointing to the familiar building.

"Thanks a million, YN," Harry said, his words slurring slightly but his gratitude clear. "You're a lifesaver."

"Glad I could help," she said with a warm smile. "Get some rest, Harry."

"I will," Harry said, "We should hang out sometime. Maybe when I'm not so… wobbly. Actually, can I have your number?"

She stood in her place for a moment, completely taken back by the fact that Harry boldly asked for her number.

And when she was about to give it to him, she remembered that he was drunk, and he probably wouldn't remember a single detail about the interaction.

"You should get some rest, Harry," she smiled, "And I need to head back to my house, It's getting late."

"Wait, you're not going to give me your number?" Harry said, a disappointed tone in his voice.

"Not tonight, Harry," she said gently, "But if we run into each other again, I'll consider it."

Harry pouted, about to protest again, but Alessandro gave him a nudge.

"Come on, Harry, let's get you inside. Thank you again, YN."

"You're welcome," she said, waving them off as they entered the building. "Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Alessandro."

"Goodnight," Alessandro replied, helping Harry up the stairs to their apartment.

Once inside, Harry flopped onto the couch, still thinking about the lovely girl who helped them get to their house in one piece, completely gobsmacked about how beautiful she was.

"She was nice, wasn't she?" he mumbled.

"She was," Alessandro agreed, "Now get some sleep, Harry. You need it."

The next morning, Harry woke up with a pounding headache and a hazy memory of the previous night. He groaned as he sat up, trying to piece together the fragments of what had happened.

"Morning, sunshine," Alessandro greeted him, handing over a glass of water and some painkillers.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, taking the pills and the water, "What happened last night? Did we get lost?"

"We did," Alessandro confirmed with a chuckle, "And a lovely girl named YN helped us find our way back."

Harry's eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The memory of her pretty eyes, nice smile and interesting talk making immediately smile.

"YN... Oh, I asked for her number, didn't I?"

"You did," Alessandro said, "But she didn't give it to you. Said if you ran into each other again, she'd consider it."

Harry sighed, leaning back against the couch, pouting when he realized that he probably wouldn't run into the pretty girl again.

"You'll have time to pout about your little crush later," Alessandro spoke again, "Right now we need to go get some kitchenware, otherwise we won't be able to cook anything."

"Right, we were supposed to do that today," Harry said as he stood up, "Let me grab a quick shower and we can go."

Once he was ready, he and Alessandro headed out to the local shop to get the kitchenware they needed. The store was bustling with people, and Harry found himself scanning the crowd, hoping that he would run into YN again somehow.

He felt like a silly teenager with a brand new crush, but even in his drunken state he could tell that the girl was nice and genuine, and he definitely wanted to get to know her better.

He also thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

"Still thinking about her, huh?" Alessandro teased as they walked through the aisles.

"Is it obvious?," Harry admitted, picking up a set of kitchen knives. "Can't help it mate."

They moved through the store, gathering the items they needed. As they approached the checkout counter, Harry's attention was drawn to a girl climbing up a ladder to reach something on the top shelf. The ladder wobbled, and without thinking, Harry rushed over to steady it.

"Careful there," he said, his hands firmly holding the ladder.

"Oh, thank you," the girl said her attention focused on grabbing a small box from the top shelf.

And when she looked down and her eyes met Harry's, he felt his heart jump.

"YN?" Harry said, almost in shock that it was really her.

YN's eyes widened in surprise and then lit up with recognition. "Harry! Hi again," she said, climbing down the ladder carefully.

"What a coincidence," Harry grinned, still holding the ladder to ensure it was steady. "Need any more help with that?"

"No, I think I've got it. Thanks, though," she shook her head, holding the box she had retrieved, "What are you doing here?"

"Just getting some stuff for our holiday home," Harry explained. "And trying not to get lost again."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't get lost in the store," YN laughed softly, "Thanks for holding the ladder."

"Anytime," Harry said, still grinning. "Are you buying some stuff too?"

"No, this is my friend's shop, I'm just helping out for a bit," she replied, "It's nice to see you again, Harry."

"Nice to see you too," Harry said, his tone sincere, "And I mean it. I was hoping I'd run into you again."

"Well, here we are," she blushed slightly, looking away for a moment.

"Well, if it isn't our guardian angel," Alessandro walked over, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the girl.

"Just doing my good deed for the day," YN laughed softly, "It's good to see you're both in one piece after last night."

"I was pretty out of it, wasn't I?" Harry said, a hint of embarrassment on his voice.

"A bit, but it was kind of endearing," YN admitted, a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, I'm glad you thought so," he said, "I was worried I made a fool of myself."

"Not at all," YN reassured him, "It was actually quite charming."

Harry smiled, his eyes fixed on the girl. He still didn't understand how it happened, but he was completely smitten over her without even properly meeting her yet.

"We should checkout our stuff and head back," Alessandro said, "It was lovely to see you again, YN."

"It was lovely to see you too," she said, waving them off, "Have a great rest of your day, both of you."

Harry gave her one last smile before following Alessandro to the checkout. As they walked out of the store, Harry couldn't help but feel elated.

"I can't believe I ran into her again," he said, his excitement evident.

"Seems like fate," Alessandro teased, "Did you ask for her number properly now?"

"Shit!" Harry stopped on his tracks, "Shit! I forgot to ask for her number."

"Then what are you doing here, go back in there and ask her."

Harry didn't need his friend to say it twice before he was almost running into the store again, determined to get the girl's number once and for all.

He re entered the store, scanning the aisles looking for the girl, he spotted her at the counter, talking to another customer. He approached them, trying to catch her eye.

"Hey, YN," he said once she was done with the customer, "Last night I asked for your number, and you said that you'll consider giving it to me if we ever ran into each other," a small smile creept into the girl's face at his words, "And well, here we are, right?"

Harry felt like a total schoolboy, his hands almost sweating as he spoke. YN smiled even widely now, tilting her head to the side.

"You remember that, huh?" she asked.

"I could never forget," Harry matched her smile.

"Well, I did promise to consider it," YN said playfully, "And I think I've made my decision."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied with a smile, "I'd love to give you my number."

And once again, Harry felt like his heart could combust from happiness and excitement.

YN reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. She scribbled something on it and handed it to him.

"There you go," she said, handing the piece of paper to him, "Now, don't lose this one."

"I won't, I promise," Harry said, his tone earnest. "Thank you, YN. I'll text you very soon."

"I'll be waiting," she said, her smile warm.

Harry waved as they left the store, clutching the piece of paper with YN's number in his hand. He couldn't stop smiling, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

Once he met Alessandro outside, he looked at him with a teasing smile.

"Looks like you got your wish."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the paper again. "And I don't plan on letting this opportunity slip away."

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minisugakoobies · 7 months ago

Text

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career.

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.”

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes.

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!”

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you.

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.”

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff.

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this.

But he can’t sleep here.

“San. San, are you awake?”

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!”

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to.

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.”

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.”

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing.

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…”

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it.

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!”

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed.

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy.

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober.

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you.

If you reach that point.

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks. “I like kissing you.”

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same.

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.”

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him.

“It’s time for you to go to bed.”

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again.

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on.

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!”

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?”

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since.

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though.

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom.

“Noona.”

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again.

“She’s in early today, right?”

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.”

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it.

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?”

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance.

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly.

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?”

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding.

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.”

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t.

You’re feeling suddenly inspired.

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

#ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #san x reader #choi san x reader #san fanfic #ateez angst #choi san fanfic #fic: it's you

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rafey-baby · 1 month ago

Text

hidden 5

18+ mdni!

c/w: outlaw!rafe being his usual self towards pogue!reader, barry making an appearance, closure on the hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, mentions of murder & violence, slightly suggestive, fluffy ending

wc: 3.5k

sooo this is the last part! (but might write some blurbs for them at some point idk) thank u for reading love u <3

him getting jealous was inspired by this ask

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

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

Consciousness drags her out of the comfort of her slumber, forcing her to blink her leaden eyelids open to Rafe’s heavy and very much naked body weighing her down against the couch cushions.

She can feel his chest expanding with each lethargic inhale he takes and she’s momentarily disconcerted; entangled thoughts desperately trying to make sense of her current situation.

However, all too soon, the memories of last night cause her to let out a tired groan. What on earth was she thinking? Why would she let Rafe of all people fuck her? And more than once. She can’t even recall how many times she—

Suddenly, she’s reminded of the reason she stirred from her state of dormancy in the first place when she feels Rafe’s sturdy abdomen pressing down on her bladder.

“Ugh,” she lets the back of her head hit the armrest before trying to pry him off, albeit to no avail.

“Rafe? Can you...” she shoves at his shoulder.

However, he merely takes in a sleepy breath and shifts into a more pleasant position.

“Rafe, wake up,” she tries again, this time pushing at his face that’s resting comfortably in the crook of her sweaty neck. In response, he offers her a drowsy hum before pasting a sluggish palm over her lips to make her go quiet.

“Shh,” he silences her and she feels like slapping him because she’s about to pee on her couch and he’s hushing her, of all things.

She wraps her fingers around his limp wrist and yanks it away from her mouth with a huff. “I need to pee. Can you get off me, please?”

He lets out a dozy grunt before groggily raising his head to look at her; squinting due to the daffodil-colored rays of sunshine peeking from the windows and appearing just as foggy as her a few minutes ago.

He rubs a hand over his face, mumbling something incoherent under his breath and at last, removes his limbs that restrained her capability to move.

“Thanks,” she peeps out before getting up and scurrying off to the bathroom; hearing him slump back down onto the couch immediately after.

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

After rinsing off the stickiness of last night in the steaming shower and changing into a pair of sweats, she realizes she’s starving. Hunger is eating away at her insides and along with the graphic recollections of her and Rafe’s late-night activities vividly jumping around her skull; she can already feel a headache lurking around the corner.

She’s in the process of cracking eggs on a pan when she hears Rafe entering the shower; the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the tiled floor following soon after. She begins to cut up some tomatoes to add into the mixture, when out of the blue, the doorbell rings.

She doesn’t think Rafe hears it since the water is still running in the bathroom, which is why she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do.

She figures that if it’s the police again, it would seem suspicious if it took her longer than normal to open it twice in a row now. Therefore, she turns off the stove and takes tentative steps towards the door.

Fleetingly, she wonders if she should simply act as if no one’s home since opening doors to strangers was what got her into this mess in the first place. At this point though, she doesn’t necessarily have the mental capacity to care.

She gingerly unlocks the door with her lip worried between her teeth, and behind it, stands a guy with hair as black as a crow and eyes as brown as coffee beans.

“Is Rafe here?” He asks with such a slow drawl it makes her wonder if he’s high on something other than just life.

And he doesn’t seem like a cop. But wouldn’t Rafe have told her if he was expecting someone?

“I don’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s, um, he’s not here,” she decides to play it safe; the lie clumsily rolling off her tongue. However, she can tell that he’s not buying it.

“You sure? You tellin’ me he gave me the wrong address then?” He wonders with a lazy furrow of his dark eyebrows.

“Um, I don’t—”

“Barry, told you to call me before you get here,” Rafe’s low rumble suddenly interrupts her; making a shiver trickle down her spine because him being right behind her, freshly showered, reminds her a little too much of his first night here.

“Country club! Thought they got your ass already. Good to see you not in jail,” Barry exclaims loudly and takes the liberty of inviting himself in as if her home has turned into a public building free for anyone to just come and go as they please. At least he has the courtesy to close the door, she thinks.

He greets Rafe with a heartfelt pat on the back and she’s momentarily stunned when his mouth twists into a smile that would be considered warm and genuine; something she’s never had the luxury of receiving.

“Why you didn’t tell me you were staying with a princess?” Barry pushes at his chest playfully.

“Leave her alone, man,” Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“I ain’t do nothin’. Just statin’ the obvious here,” Barry raises his hands up in defense and the unexpected compliment makes her suppress a giddy simper.

“Whatever, just get your ass here, I need your help,” Rafe grumbles out as he begins walking towards her bedroom. Not even asking if he can go there because why would he?

“Ain’t nothin’ new about that,” Barry chuckles, revealing a golden tooth that glints under the light when he grins at her.

And there’s a familiarity in which they interact that makes her figure they’ve known each other for a long time. With the little knowledge she has, she then comes to the conclusion that Barry most likely plays a part in the side business Rafe briefly mentioned when she’d found out about the cop he’d killed.

She assumes all of it is also connected to the plastic baggies full of white powder in the glove compartment of his truck, because there’s no way Rafe needs that much coke just for personal use.

“We have to, uh, talk about some shit. So, go do something else, yeah?” Rafe looks over his shoulder at her.

“Right, um, okay,” she mumbles out before turning around to return to the safety of her kitchen.

“Damn, Rafe. That how you talk to her even though she be letting you hide here?” Barry questions as he follows after him.

“Shit, man, can you just— let’s just get this over with, alright? Don’t have all day,” Rafe mutters in response.

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” Barry’s humorous tone is the last thing she hears before the door closes; leaving her to resume preparing her breakfast with a weary sigh.

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

A few days later, she hears Rafe’s voice from the living room as she’s thoughtlessly reorganizing her closet; folding shirts and pants and taking out clothes she no longer wears, since he still doesn’t allow for her to leave the house without him.

“Come watch this for a second?” His tone sounds almost excited when she pads over to stand next to him on the rug; looking over at him in question.

However, he merely nods towards the television screen and turns the volume higher.

“And then onto some more interesting news. The charges for Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development, have been dropped due to no significant evidence found to prove him guilty. However, the investigation is still open and the police are doing everything they can in order to find the criminal behind the devastating murder that has shaken up the entire island for weeks now. In order to ensure everyone’s safety, we hope that you keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary and…”

Everything after that turns into muffled background noise as her jaw drops and her rounded eyes flicker over to Rafe.

“I’m a free man, Puppy,” he turns to face her with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“How did you even…” she’s momentarily stunned; words withering away as she simply blinks up at him in surprise.

“Don’t want you to worry about it, alright?” He’s quick to dismiss her as he clicks off the TV.

“I’m, um, happy for you…even though you did kill the guy and—”

“Already told you, he wasn’t a good person and an even shittier cop, remember? And I’m gonna need you to never mention that shit again, think you can do that?” He turns serious all of a sudden; peering into her eyes with a warning.

“Y— yes,” her voice falters when he steps closer.

“Cause if you can’t, I’m gon’ have to do something you won’t like, you understand?” He gazes at her with such intensity, she can’t do anything but nod with her shoulders tense.

“You sure? Cause you’re kinda my only loose end here, and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, would we?” His tall frame hovers over her as he leans down to mutter out the words, causing her to flinch.

“No, I promise. I’m not gonna say anything,” she squeaks out and means it.

Who would even believe her? After all, she doesn’t have any actual proof and even if she did, she thinks Rafe could easily just pay himself out of it. And she’s not particularly keen on finding out how far he’s willing to take his vengeance.

“Good,” he seems to relax some but a sense of dread washes over her anyway.

“But what if…someone threatens me or something?” She asks with caution.

“That’s not gonna happen. You always worry so much, just chill out for a bit, yeah?” He shrugs it off with an air of indifference she wishes she could possess as well.

“But it’s a possibility. How do you know someone didn’t see us together when people were looking for you?” She reasons with her mind racing.

“Listen, if someone threatens you…you come to me and I’ll fucking kill them for you, okay?” He suggests with complete seriousness.

“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t want you to—”

However, she’s interrupted by amused laughter bubbling out of his chest.

“I’m joking. Stop being an annoying Pogue for one second, yeah? Think we should go out for dinner, hm? Let me, uh, thank you for your hospitality and shit,” he says as he smooths a palm over his buzzed hair.

“Like at a restaurant? You and me?” At the notion of them spending time together outside of all this, confusion tangles up her thoughts; making her forget all about her previous concerns.

“You’re so fucking weird. Yes, you and me. Who else? Can get whatever expensive shit you want too, how’s that sound?” He coaxes her to agree with the mellow tone he adds, however, not without making fun of her first.

“Um, okay…sounds great?” She can’t really grasp onto his motives in the headspace she’s currently in, merely assumes he wants to be on her good side so she wouldn’t change her mind about opening her mouth.

“Great. Need to, uh, take care of some things over at Figure Eight first, but be ready at seven,” he makes it sound like a threat, even if he’s not trying to scare her with a gun anymore.

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

She doesn’t think she’s ever been at a restaurant this costly; everything on the menu more than she could ever afford. Rafe practically demands her to not pay attention to the price and get anything she wants, however, it’s proving to be quite challenging as she scans over the list of dishes in front of her with creased brows.

“You ready?” He asks with a hint of impatience.

“No, I can’t decide. There’s so many options and I don’t even know what half of them mean,” she mumbles out in distress.

“I’ll just, uh, order for you, yeah?” He suggests with a raise of his brows as he stretches out his arms.

At that, she swallows, desperately trying not to pay any mind to his large biceps practically on display.

“Okay, thanks,” she graces him with a grateful smile; feeling out of place with rich Kooks all around nearly suffocating her.

Being here with Rafe, of all people, feels strange. Not even a day ago, she was still practically held captive by him, even if the leash of his strict rules around her throat had loosened up considerably, and his overly aggressive tendencies had dwindled down to grumpy mutters and displeased glares over the course of the few weeks they’d known each other. Now, she’s solely bound to him by this muddy, grimy secret that she will probably take down to her grave.

And despite everything he’s done to her, in some peculiar way, she’s beginning to understand him. Because against all her morals, in a killer, someone who other people would consider a monster, she sees someone simply trying to survive in the harsh world with the crumpled cards life has dealt with him. And she isn’t all too sure how far her feelings of care towards the man branch out but what she does know, is that she doesn’t want him to go to prison. No matter what he’s done.

And she’s never even met Rafe’s father and he hasn’t talked about him to her, but she has this feeling that to be so violent and hostile, has to be learned from someone.

No one is born evil, even if she wouldn’t necessarily describe him as that.

In Rafe, she sees a boy who was forced to grow up too quickly; someone with the burden of his father’s heavy legacy weighing down on his shoulders with every breath he takes.

Therefore, she can’t find it in herself to be entirely too upset with him for the way he treated her, thinks she can live with it, even if it was wrong. Because looking back on it, in a way that makes no sense to her, it was also sort of thrilling to keep him hidden and follow along with his very much illegal activities. After all, she’s never really been one to break the rules.

“Are you guys ready to order?” The server’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and makes her look up at a familiar face, slightly covered by sand-colored curls.

“Y/N? Long time no talk! How’re you doing?” Lucas, a guy she had a fling with last year meets her eyes with his surprised ones.

“Oh, hi. I’m good. What a crazy coincidence, didn’t even know you worked here,” she forces out a strained laugh because had she known, she would’ve asked Rafe to pick another restaurant.

“Actually, just started a few weeks ago. But since when do you eat on this side of the island?” He gives her a curious look.

“I don’t. Just a…special occasion and stuff,“ she steals a glance at Rafe who’s quietly observing their interaction with narrowed eyes.

And him talking to her right now feels entirely too humiliating since she had told Rafe about him, assuming the two of them would never meet.

“Right…anyway, haven’t seen you at the surf shop in a while, you still work there or?” Lucas continues with an enthusiasm she can’t quite reciprocate.

And it’s not like they ended up on bad terms — they weren’t even officially together — she just sort of withdrew from him because despite being an overall nice guy, she felt like he only cared about his own needs. More often than not went on about his day without even taking hers into consideration, both in and outside the bedroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, just had a little, um…family emergency. It was this whole thing, you don’t even wanna know the details,” she lies through her teeth; picking at the corner of her napkin as a distraction.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is everything okay now?” His jade eyes are sympathetic as he peers down at her.

“Yes, everything’s good. Think I’ll be able to return next Monday,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tries to appear nonchalant.

“Cool…hey, I was actually wondering if you’d wanna catch up some time?” He scratches at the back of his head; seemingly nervous about her answer.

She blinks.

“Oh, um—”

“You gon’ take our orders at some point or just flirt with her for the next hour?” Rafe invites himself into the conversation with a scoff; tilting his head at him in intrigue.

And at that, Lucas finally turns towards him.

“Wait a second, weren’t you just suspected for murder?” He asks with slightly wide eyes.

“Nah, they dropped the charges cause they were tweaking. I didn’t do shit,” Rafe huffs out, the lie rolling off his tongue far too easily.

“Oh, right, right. That must, um, suck,” he rambles, seemingly intimidated by him.

“Yeah, it does,” Rafe mutters, and him clearly trying to fight off a roll of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by her, even if she’s not entirely sure why his mood has suddenly turned sour.

Lucas is quick to fill in the silence that follows soon after. “Right, so, what would you two like to eat?”

And after he’s left with their orders, Rafe turns to look at her with an annoying smirk overlaying his features. “That the guy who couldn’t make you come?”

“Rafe! He can still hear you,” she hisses and looks over her shoulder; relieved to discover he’s already out of earshot.

“Don’t really care. That shit’s just embarrassing for him. What did you see in him anyway? Seems like an ass,” he furrows his brows at her.

“You’re talking as if you’re any better?”

“At least made you come, no? Multiple times, may I add. Or you need a reminder?” He nudges her foot under the table with his own; the self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face making her subtly kick him back.

However, he merely wraps his fingers around her ankle; ceasing her futile attempt at bruising his leg with a chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“You seriously just tried to kick me? Didn’t seem to complain when you were begging for me to—”

“Rafe! Why are you talking so loud?” She whines, trying to release the limb he’s captured, however, his grip is strong and she’s not getting free until he decides she is.

“Calm down, no one here cares. You Pogues never know how to relax, do you?”

“I am relaxed!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he taunts before finally letting go of her foot and she quickly pulls it back so he can’t grab for it again.

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

“Can I ask you something?” She swallows something akin to sand in her throat; disrupting the sound of their silverware clinking against the ceramic plates as they contently fill up their bellies.

“Hm?” His eyes flicker over to meet hers.

“After this, um, are we just gonna go back to our sides of the island and never talk again?” There’s a wistful hue coloring over her question.

“That’s what you want?” He raises his brows and she blinks; slightly taken aback by him not immediately answering with a yes.

“Um, I don’t…know. What would we even do?” She takes a sip of water to appear indifferent to the entire situation. However, she’s failing miserably.

“I mean, could think of a couple of things we could do…” he trails off with a smug grin, causing her to huff out a soft laugh.

“Thought you didn’t hang out with Pogues?” She narrows her eyes at him, trying to figure out if he’s even taking this conversation seriously.

“Yeah, well, guess I could make an exception. After all, you did help a Kook, so you’re not really a Pogue anymore, are you?”

“Okay first of all, that makes zero sense and I only helped you, cause you were gonna kill me,” she states, lowering her tone towards the end.

“Stop saying that shit, Puppy,” he hisses, looking around to ensure no one heard it. “Wasn’t gonna kill you, just needed you to listen, alright?”

“Well, you could’ve been a bit more polite about it,” she rests her elbows on the table, tone accusatory.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? That what you want me to say? A lot was going on and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Sometimes it’s, uh, hard for me to control my anger and shit,” he mutters out the last part, as if it’s difficult for him to admit.

“Yeah, I figured,” she’s smiling now; her attempt at making him feel guilty going down the drain because him trying to defend his behavior for once, is sort of entertaining.

A scowl covers his face at the realization that she’s merely trying to make him sweat for her own enjoyment. “You know, I still think I should’ve picked another house,” he grants her a lighthearted glare.

“Yeah, me too,” she nods in agreement.

And at the sight of her barely contained grin, he can’t stop his mouth from curling up as well; both of them quietly giggling at the entirely too bizarre of a situation, that for some reason, feels far too much like a first date.

It’s almost as if they’re meeting for the first time all over again.

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lvndosnorris · 7 months ago

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the winner takes it all • l. norris smut

paring: female reader x lando norris

authors note: my first ever piece?! i mean, the special occasion definitely helped kickstart my little writing era so hopefully this is somewhat enjoyable? i loved writing it so who knows, maybe they'll be more!

warnings: entirely fictional, f! oral receiving, fingering, edging if you squint, f! forced orgasm

lando was certainly giddy off the champagne; the bubbles making every odd sentence fall out his mouth with a hiccup, lips parted and speckled with fizz as he dwelled in the celebrations. if it wasn't for everyone's attention being on him he wouldn't have thought twice about whisking you away, desperate to be close to the only person he wanted to thank in this moment — but how would he explain his sudden disappearance?

you'd made the effort to giggle with everyone, stealing partial glances of your boyfriend every now and then. there was a part of you that was adamant you were being subtle: yet the knowing elbow to your ribs as you lost where you were in your ramblings, eyelids heavy as you peered intently at lando as he tilted his head back, tongue protruding as he lapped at the champagne that was being poured from above his head.

it was the same image that was replaying in your mind as you clambered into the back of the taxi, your palms splayed on his upper thigh as you adjusted yourself beneath the seatbelt. the air was thick, stuffy even, as you felt your chest tighten under the thin material of your dress — there was a tension that was evident, lando's thumb curling around your pinky finger as he tugged your hand towards his mouth, lips ghosting a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"you look so good tonight... that little skimpy number doing a thing or two to me..." you weren't sure if it was the bubbles taking over or if he was speaking his mind. eyes afire, blazed, as you unintentionally clamped your thighs just that little tighter together. the fact that the taxi driver could probably hear lando's confessions, crude and direct as he mumbled how all he could think about was you — even during his winner's speech that he was egged on to do, a mic thrust in his hand as he caught your eye from across the packed room.

his lips were on your neck the minute your apartment door was closed and the taxi was merrily on his way to the next customer: teeth nipping at your throat as you struggled to push him away from you, dizzy from the way your stomach lurched with desire. it was stupid really — you'd seen each other the morning of, hungrily wishing him all the luck in the world and proceeding to roll your eyes dramatically when he reminded you that he was already the luckiest.

"you've been teasing me all night," you tried to be stern, your scold coming across more as a whimper though as his fingers trailed down over your hips. the crown of your head settled on your front door as you tilted yourself backwards, trusting your boyfriend completely as your urges finally took over, "you'll be the one apologising this time if the neighbours come knocking."

your joke fell on deaf ears as lando's nails scratched gently over your exposed thighs, hiking the material of your dress further up until he got complete access to you. every time he saw you like this, all flustered and relentless, silence would fall upon him as he drank in his sight. the floor was harsh against his knees as he settled before you, slightly hazed pupils meeting yours as he flashed you that shit-eating grin that had gotten you wrapped around his little finger all those months ago.

should it have been you treating him? considering he was the winner, surely he deserved to be on the receiving end of pleasure tonight? the questions failed to come to fruition though, all thoughts incoherent as he parted your legs in a way that could only be described as hungrily.

it was your noises that made him edge closer to you, not even bothering to discard of your underwear as he nudged it to the side with the tip of his nose. there was a pause in his movements, your chest rising and falling erratically as you waited for him to do something, anything.

you had always been somewhat impatient when it came to lando — maybe it was the fact you knew how good it was going to be, or perhaps it was the burning ache that sat heavy in the pit of your stomach whenever he had worked you up to this certain point between normality and pure ecstasy. your fist knotted between his hair, tugging it a little harsher than usual as you gritted your teeth and inaudibly begged for him to give you something.

as a way to tell you he was listening he obliged; his pointer and middle finger scissored against you as he parted your cunt, tongue between his lips as he finally dragged a taste from you. lando had always been an eater, evident in the way his tongue moved against you now — circling your clit before stroking down to your hole. your wetness decorated his chin and around his mouth, glistening skin being all you could focus on as he pulled away for a few seconds to marvel at how your face was contorted in pleasure.

the intrusion of one of his fingers caught you off guard, one hand clutching his head as the other held onto the wall in a pathetic attempt to stay upright. the few chutes of champagne that you'd been sipping on all night accompanied the glee that surged through your veins, tingling every limb as you rolled your hips in a rhythm that oozed of desperation.

his name felt familiar and warm as it fell from your mouth, subconsciously ending it with mewls of fuck and right there as he dipped his finger in and out of your sopping cunt. each thrust was met with his lips wrapped delicately around your clit, starkly different to the way his finger curled inside of you, trying to rub against that sweet spot inside of you and send you into a downward spiral of pleasure.

as soon as his second finger found itself between your slick walls you felt the ball in your gut grow bigger, heavier as you could barely keep your eyes open. lando's tongue was messy against you, devouring you between muffled moans and whines. just as his fingers got harder and his tongue became wetter he stopped — everything still in the doorway to your apartment as you let out a half-strangled cry. there was no way that he could let you linger there, teetering on the edge of an orgasm as you curled your toes that still sat uncomfortably in your heels and knitted your eyebrows together in annoyance.

in that moment you felt the warmth fizzle from your body; your mind falling back into reality as you became conscious to the room around you once more. lando's grin was smug, cocky even, as he kissed your inner thigh. it was soft, a complete juxtaposition to the way he was eating you only seconds before.

"you can do it for me, can't you?" his question seemed distant from you, as if he was miles from where you were. there was an air of confusion, not able to conjure the words to ask what he meant before his hand cupped your cunt, fingers parting you. his fingertips grazed your hole once more, stroking between your clenching walls as you felt yourself turn to putty in his hands.

usually you'd need more than this; for him to strum you all over again, work you up to your orgasm once more. but this time he didn't — your boyfriends eyes trained on you, dampened lips parted as he watched the way you writhed against him. rocking your hips to meet his hand halfway, spine arched as you cursed him vehemently in between groans.

the noises that came from between your legs were nothing short of filthy; an indication that you were close to cumming whether you planned to or not. there was nothing that you could hold onto that would have kept you earthed, his scalp sore as you tugged cruelly, wrapping his locks around your fingers to try and control your orgasm. it took one, two, possibly three, more pumps of his fingers and his palm flush against your clit before you felt your body snap — heaven bubbling inside of you as you clenched. the sheer intensity of your orgasm had lando's head spinning, wrist trickling with your own juices as he studied how you shivered and sighed.

"lando, i—" your words failed. forehead slick with sweat as he skimmed his hands from your sensitive heat to the backs of your thighs, kneading your flesh in a attentive way. you wanted to thank him, to tell him that you loved him. but all that came out was a timid squeak as you tried to move, your shoulder blades sore from where they'd been pushed against your door.

he knelt back until he was sat on the floor, lets spread as he scooped up a small bead of your cum with the tip of his thumb. suckling it into his mouth he hummed, a deep, melodic noise, "seeing as i'm the winning boy do i get my reward now?"

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residenthughes · 10 months ago

Text

persuasion - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x fem reader

word count: 5.7k

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, slight angst?, fratboy! jack (he's sweet in this, dw), mentions of alcohol/drinking, no mention of y/n

summary: you get a bit more than you bargained for when paired up with all-american hockey star, jack hughes.

notes: hi. it's been a (long) while since i've posted on here. not to mention, i'm back writing about someone a bit different 😭 but i've recently gotten into the nhl and this fic is the result of me drunkenly coming across this photo a few days ago. despite the changes on this blog, i hope this post finds you well and that you enjoy this (poor) attempt of me getting back into writing. much love <3

The end of the semester couldn’t have come sooner. Swapped with what was possibly the busiest you’ve ever been, the sweet relief after submitting your last assignment was unparalleled and lulled you to a much deserved slumber, only to be awoken by a barrage of messages pinging from your bedside table. Disgruntled, your arm extends in search of your phone, groaning into your damp pillow as you blink away the tired film coating your eyes and read the messages from your best friend.

frat house party tonight, presence is mandatory!

all the girlies are onboard, your sexy ass better be ready by 9!

Another groan emits from you, exhaustion seeping through your bones at the mere mention of doing something else besides rotting in bed. You’re about to type some incoherent excuse, but your best friend beats you to it.

apparently, z and his guys are going.

chances are jack’s there too.

There’s a messy stutter in your chest upon reading the message and suddenly, you’re more awake than before as you gingerly sit yourself up in your bed. Of course, she’d mention he was going just to convince you further. You weren’t even aware she knew of your crush. Considering you hadn’t mentioned him much besides when asked, his name being referenced feels more intrusive than it should be. Then again, as perceptive as she is, there was no denying the fact.

Jack and yourself had worked on a group project earlier in the semester, which is how the two of you had crossed paths. Upon hearing of the task at hand, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh because you were never a fan of working with others you didn’t know, but considering none of your friends took your class, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get to know others and build your social circle. When your assigned group had got together towards the end of the lecture to discuss formalities and such, you hadn’t expected the whirlwind that was to come in the presence of a sandy brunette haired boy.

Jack is as easy-going as he is charming. Cracks a couple jokes and suddenly, all the ice isolating your group dissolves to water and there are constant hums of conversation bouncing off every member of your group. He’s nice too, considerate of everyone’s schedule and what tasks they felt confident in completing, never uttering a word of complaint unless warranted. It’s interesting, he’s interesting, you think to yourself. Perhaps due to the fact that since he’d revealed himself to be in a frat, you had some preconceived notions as to what his personality would be like and maybe at times, he’d fit that stereotype to a tee, there were other times he’d stray away from it completely and leave you curious as ever.

Peculiar is what you’d describe those few weeks to be, your interest gravitating towards any relation to Jack. Heart beating as you walked past your university’s ice arena, knowing he practically lived on the ice beyond his time in class. Eyes lighting up when he texted in the group chat, mental fuzziness plaguing you every time you sat across from one another as you completed your portion of work in the university’s library. You’d be a fool to dismiss the budding attraction you felt towards him, spinning your world round but also leaving you feeling so unsure of everything, yourself included. There’s no scarcity of girls who like him, it proved to be difficult resisting the All-American hockey star with looks to match. However, taking into account the sheer volume of attention directed his way everyday, your lingering glances didn’t seem to be much more significant. So, one-sided this crush remains to you, storing away the quiet memories of shared laughs and time spent together in a place close to your heart.

That was until he invited you to his game, shortly after your project had been submitted for assessment. You wanted to go, you wanted to go so badly that you agonised over the decision for longer than necessary, but ultimately, as you laid awake that night, eyes blazing red with fatigue, doom scrolling to further delay your dreams, the evidence for your answer surfaced. It was nothing but a silly Instagram post from one of his friends, Trevor Zegras, the boyfriend to one of your friends. A collection of typical photos: the boys, hockey and more of the antics they got to. It’s in the last slide where in the background of a recent football game is none other than Jack, in all his handsome glory, grinning ear to ear as a girl envelopes him in a hug that feels too intimate to be seen. Embarrassment runs your skin hot and jealousy leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the thought of you entertaining anything more than platonic with Jack a pipedream at best. Naturally, there can be so many explanations for the photo, but what rings true is that you’ve made yourself vulnerable to heartbreak, which is nowhere to be found on your agenda. So, you call it a night, turning off your phone and hoping to put the crush behind you come tomorrow.

And, it works for a bit. Jack doesn’t text you further and you don’t run into him on campus. Summer soon approaches and the last few days before your break have you buzzing with excitement for all the plans you have lined up. Your world doesn’t hinge on every interaction you have with Jack and your mind is freed from the shackles of mulling over every detail in said interaction. It’s liberating and you’d like to keep it that way. A fleeting crush, you reason, all said and done with. A mantra you repeat to yourself as you respond back to your best friend, gleaming as you and your group chat discuss outfits options and pinterest inspired makeup looks.

There’s nothing better than being with your girls, you’re reminded, as the buzzing excitement never fizzles as the night stretches on. Controlled chaos dominates the night as you pack into one friend’s rooms to get ready together, helping each other with eyelash extensions and annoying back zippers. Someone makes the suggestion to drop by the campus bar for a drink or two, just to ease the nerves, and it turns out to be a great idea because by the time you stumble out of the bar and towards the frat house, the party’s in full swing.

Trashed lawn and red cup galore, the music somehow manages to reach outside the house with hoards of people dotted around and inside the house. With the merry buzz you’ve got from the bar, confidence details your movements as you lead your friends with clasped hands into the packed house, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s as you trample on through the crowded hallways to find yourselves in one (?) of the living rooms.

Hands suddenly grasp at yours and you’re thrown into a fit of giggles as your friends tangle themselves up in a messy but fun dance. You follow suit, fully relishing in the euphoria of the night and the found family you have in these girls as you dance and chatter until you have no choice to venture into the kitchen for a refreshment.

Surprisingly, the kitchen is vacant as you push through towards its door you were directed to, scanning the room amongst belongings to find some mixer for your helping of vodka stashed away in your purse. Despite your better judgement, you resort to apprehensively searching through cupboards on your tippy toes in search for mixer and as you’re about to open the last cupboard, the kitchen door opens.

“Looking for something?”

Goosebumps arise and your heart stills. You know that voice like the back of your hand, the same voice that echoes in the back of your mind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you dream. The fact that he’s so ingrained in your memory makes you curse at yourself, teeth gnawing on the plumpiness of your bottom lip as you attempt to recollect your racing thoughts. With a quiet breath, you sink back from your elevated posture and turn towards the source of the voice, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights.

It’s comical how such a simple sight renders you a loss for words. In the doorway of the large kitchen stands Jack, shoulder and head leaning against the doorframe as he looks at you with an expectant look and a cheeky grin to match. His legs are crossed at the ankles and he’s holding a beer, but he’s got this pearl white long sleeved polo on with washed out jeans and a black snapback to top it all off. The outfit in itself is so simple and yet, here you are, heart being sent into overdrive as the effortless combo drives you wild. Sets your skin alight and conjures up electricity that pulses through you like wildfire.

“Lemonade,” you gracefully croak out, gesturing towards your empty red cup. “I didn’t bring much to mix my drink with.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that,” he reassures you, bouncing off the door frame as he draws closer to you, your feet absently shifting a few steps backwards. “No need to back up. I don’t bite, you know?”

You huff at the comment, realising how foolish his mere presence makes you and will yourself to relax, shoulders easing down from your ears as you watch Jack search through the cupboards. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, pulling out a large bottle of lemonade that coasts against the marble of the countertop.

“Feel free to use as much as you like, I never usually have this myself anyways.” insists Jack, turning himself around with his back against the countertop, arms crossed his chest with a peering eye directed to you.

“How thoughtful of you.” you jester as a brief chuckle is shared between the two of you, the loud thumps of heavy bass music sounding from beyond the kitchen door as silence settles between the two of you.

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” he asks, undivided attention focused on you as you pour the last of the lemonade. If not for the embarrassment of spilling your drink in front of him, the unsolicited awareness he’s currently given you would have resulted in exactly that, so you stop yourself and give him a convincing smile.

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s the end of the academic year, I have no more complaints,” you muse, bringing the cup to your lips as you peer over the rim to look at Jack, his long lashes fluttering as his focus remains you. Your heartbeat picks up its pace. “What about you? Frozen four’s a big deal, but winning the championship is even bigger.”

Jack gives a lighthearted laugh, smugness adjusting his posture as his shoulders move back and his chest puffs out. Meanwhile, he gives this half shrug and grin that has heat gravitating towards the apples of your cheeks. It’s one of the things you like about Jack, how confident and sure of himself he is without it being overbearing and unappealing. It feels assuring, not having to dim your own light for the sake of his own comfort.

“Yeah, that was nuts, I can’t lie. We had a really good run and I think our efforts really showed for themselves in that case,” Jack responds, taking a swig of his beer. “Christ, I sound like I’m talking to the media or something.”

“Well, consider this practice for when you join Jersey in the future,” you simper, snickering as you take a sip of your own drink. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun speaking to the media.”

He gives an eyeroll, amusement prominent in the way his eyes twinkle and you can't help but laugh more. “So you say. How did you even know about Jersey?”

Your laugh is cut short, ice cold realisation washing over you like a bad hangover as his words hang in the air like a gauntlet waiting for its descent. Of course, this was nothing to be caught off-guard by considering how much your university boasts about how Jack, amongst other talented players, were drafted before committing to your university. However, the painful memory of you awake one late night doesn’t escape you, said night spent hesitantly typing his name into Google to come across all the info you knew to confirm how great of a hockey player he was. You feel shameful even looking him in the eyes right now.

So, your eyes stray from him, the somewhat sticky floor being the source of all your interest. “Who doesn’t know? Our uni does a good job of reminding us of everyone that’s been drafted.”

You decide to spare a glance at Jack, taking in how a pinkish hue decorates the surface of his cheeks as his lone hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. The timidity that clouds his movement evokes a simper out of you, one that you direct into your cup, its contents rapidly draining under the weight of your continued conversation.

“Oh, man. Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he jokes, smile all pearly white and heart fluttering. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous, no?”

“Nerv-”

Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open and a flood of drunken students come barrelling in, hollering as their drinks splash to the floor and chaos ensues. You’re just as confused at their unexpected appearance as you are at the comment Jack made, but before you have a chance to ponder further, a warm hand settles against the small of your back followed by the gentle waft of Jack’s aftershave, a mixture sea salt with a hint of lavender and spicy nutmeg. It takes everything in you for your knees not to buckle.

“Let’s head out back.” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck as his fingertips ignite fire against your skin.

Abruptly, you clear your throat, mindlessly nodding along as you blindly follow him out back, Jack’s larger build serving as a shield of sorts as he seamlessly navigates his way through the hordes of students. He does so with your hand in his and as much as your internal monologue unleashes panicked squeals at the contact, you revel in his touch - calloused hands that hold yours like porcelain, warm hands that match together like the universe and all its stars.

A cool breeze blankets your skin and your focus shifts from your inner thoughts, taking in the generous and lush green outdoor space with sparse camping chairs circling a bonfire and a large tree further up ahead draped in fairy lights. There’s some people here too, but the atmosphere is a 180 from the mayhem inside, hushed light-hearted conversations exchanged beside the lit bonfire with the faint smell of weed filtering through the crisp air. The dazzling fairy lights blind you into bumping into Jack’s back, apologising with a laugh before he collapses onto the daisy white hammock before you.

You follow suit with the carefree attitude Jack gives you, but you miscalculate horrendously because you don’t fall into the place beside your crush, but into his lap. Shock runs through your veins like ice as your bewilderment freezes you in place, mouth gaping open as you turn to face Jack in absolute horror. He seems to fare better with the unexpected contact, enlarged azure eyes showing his awe and yet his hands are in all the right places - supporting your waist as your weightless body struggles to hold its own.

“I’m-“ the hairs on your neck are standing and you’re close to crying, the heat of your mortification burning your body hot like a furnace. “-so sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t even-“

“Relax, you’re good,” the chill of his beer against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, the feeling intensifying by the thousands as Jack’s thumb gives your exposed skin the smallest caress. You’re sure you’re the personification of shock at how every inch of your features displays pure alarm. “Unless this was your plan?”

You’re shoving him before your brain is able to comprehend its commands, your flustered state leaping out of his lap and collapsing back alongside him this time, hands clasped over your eyes as you take the time to maybe calm down. “What frat house even has a hammock anyways?”

“Rachel - Z’s girl - thought it’d be a nice touch for the garden,” you hear Jack mumble, but you’re too busy nursing your ego to fully immerse in conversation. “You’re friends with her, right? You guys came in together.”

“Keeping an eye out for me, Hughes?”

Apparently, your ego isn’t as bruised to make such a comment, a smirk finding itself onto the surface of your face as you’ve yet to remove your hand from your vision.

“It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.”

You freeze in place, the heaviness in your stomach incomparable with the hammering of your heart against your chest as your brain picks apart Jack’s comment at the speed of light. None of the comments Jack has made throughout your entire conversation have gone over your head, the flirty undertones as clear as day. He wasn’t as up front with his compliments when you two first started working together, the furthest compliment he’d given denoting how nice you looked despite rolling out of bed twenty minutes beforehand. His directness makes your eyebrows furrow, or rather his intentions have you looking around as if you could find some answers. Perhaps this is how Jack is at parties - all pleasant with a careful flirtation that gradually pulls you inwards. Or maybe, this simply is the case of him showing his interest in you. The concept is not lost on you, but there is still apprehension that manifests within you, for reasons you are yet to discover.

You’re about to say something, your parted lips issuing a single incoherent syllable that dissolves on your tongue when the faint murmur of country music from a group of guys up ahead takes your notice, Jack’s nose scrunching with delight as he exclaims, “Ah, what a banger.”

Your eyebrow quirks upwards, merriment spreading against your features. “I never pegged you as the country type.”

“Well, I’m not a Drake guy, I’ll tell you that much.” Jack shifts in his seat, extending his arm out behind your back.

“So, a belieber then?” you jester, taunting eyebrows raised as you can’t keep your snicker to yourself when you watch Jack roll his eyes with the same grin.

“If that makes you happy, then yeah,” Jack reasons nonchalantly, whereas you make a pathetic attempt at stopping the stammer in your chest. “But no, that’s pretty much all that plays when my brothers and I wakesurf in the summer, unless Z is on the aux. Then, he and Quinn have a go at each other for it.”

Chuckles emit from your lips as you picture the image of a sunny summer day out on a boat, Jack’s older brother, Quinn, and Trevor becoming enemies of silence as they bicker over music choices. A warm fuzziness embraces you, the image placing you right beside Jack as laughter bubbles between the two of you whilst Luke wakesurfs in the background. It’s a honeyed depiction, all rose-tinted and for you to hold close to your heart along with other fantasies you allow yourself to entertain.

“We’re planning on going back to our summer house upstate where we do loads of other stuff,” Jack trails off, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle as you two share a look between each other. His eyes flicker downwards almost immediately, the top of his ears crimsoning. “You should stop by sometime. It’d be good to see you over the summer.”

For someone as confident as Jack, these rare glimpses of timidity demonstrate themselves as a pure anomaly. So, you can imagine your surprise at not only his incredibly generous offer but also his sheepish demeanour; gaze never aligning with yours as you feel his fingers fiddle with the material of the hammock behind your back. The sight enamours you, a rush of endearment washing over you as you lean into the feeling, not bothering to hide the wide smile growing across the expanse of your face.

If this is what awaits you at their summer house, you’re already packed and ready to go.

“I could be persuaded.” Jack’s already rolling his eyes and against his better judgement, he finds himself chuckling with you too.

When your amusement blends into the night sky, Jack's eyelids fall halfway, gaze steady as he mirrors your prior smirk that’s all but gone with the quiet wind. “And, what would that involve?”

A moment is shared between the two of you. Burning bright like a star and erupting fireworks in your fingertips as your eyes linger on one another longer than explanatory. The landscape of his dotted moles capture your attention first, your sight leading itself to the galaxy-like twinkle dazzling in the ocean blue of his eyes. It’s so precious, this point in time - so delicate and intimate that it feels like a secret, whispers of infatuation pulling you together by their invisible strings as Jack’s extended arm circles your shoulders. You lean in, the temptation of his lips calling your name. Earlier restlessness ceases to exist as your movements read as second nature, the bruising of your chest accompanying the fuzziness that dances in your stomach as Jack leans into too.

“Yo, Jack!”

The moment is all but gone, burst like a bubble as both your heads turn in the direction of the voice, spying one of Jack’s friends, Cole, standing on the porch with a hand clasped around his mouth.

“Get your ass in here, we’re playing Jenga!”

A string of unpleasantries filter through Jack’s mouth in the form of a murmur, remnants of your interrupted kiss lingering as Jack gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and gives you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen. Puppy eyes and pouty lips, an image you lock away in your heart forever.

“Did you wanna head in?” He gives you the choice, head tilted to the side as he studies your expression whilst you ponder the inquiry.

The almost kiss is something to behold and if this has occurred weeks prior amidst the intensity of your crush, you would have begged and pleaded to stay, hinging on the hopes of whatever this is being fabricated once again to fulfil your fondness dreams. But, this feels different. It feels sold, as opposed to balancing upon shaky possibilities. This is undeniable, a point in time that is infinite and kissed upon by destiny. A junction you can return to time and time again.

“Yeah, I’m sure my friends are looking for me anyways,” you unravel yourself from Jack’s loose grip, hoisting yourself up before you turn to face him with a soft beam. His expression reads unsure, gaze scattered before he looks upwards before your sneakers knock against his impossibly white Air Forces. You nod towards the house, the giddiness building within you exceptional as your hand extends out to meet his. “Let’s head in together?”

It comes out more of a question than a statement, but you could care less when Jack gives you that soft smile that’s only reserved for you, grabbing a hold of your hand after he brings himself off the hammock before you proceed to return back to the party.

The bustling atmosphere appears to have maintained itself in your absence, hundreds of conversations mixing in with the booming sounds of some bass heavy hip hop song. You nod your head to the beat, grinning when you see familiar faces in the crowd as you trail behind Jack yet again, following him in promise of your friends who Cole had mentioned joined their group’s game of Jenga. You make do with getting down the stairs of the basement without tumbling due to their frigid nature, face instantly lighting up as you catch sight of your friends, collapsing into a fit of excited hugs and shared giggles as you all catch up on the events of the party.

Amidst all the dialogue, some of which you’re assuming Jack’s sorority brothers and friends make quick work of getting the bare room ready, arranging beers for everyone as the box of Jenga is brought out. The weight of concentrated eyes seers into your goosebump-riddled skin and by the time you volunteer to assemble the Jenga tower, you’re more than aware of Jack’s attention on you. Even with how overflowing the confidence you possessed was as you left the back garden, the heat of his gaze reduces you to a sheepish mess, antsy hands uncertain of their movements as you attempt to achieve some standard of normalcy, your eyes avoiding his. It’s when your hands accidentally touch that you cannot avoid it much longer, peering through clumpy eyelashes with a flush that feels as vivid as painted glass.

A lone corner of his lips inclines, his look of allurement tangled with blatant attraction enough to make you knock over some of the Jenga pieces. A deep chorus of disapproving sounds holler at your actions, your sheepishness fended off by the laughter amongst you and Jack as you continue to assemble the tower again, this serving as the last of your communication before the Jenga game commences.

Every Jenga piece taken out of the tower involves a dare that has laughter erupting from the pits of your stomach or mouth gaping open at the gull others possess whilst intoxicated. With the muffled sounds of the music upstairs and endless talk in the room, merriment captures your heart in a gentle squeeze as the dares carry on, the harmless fun quickly becoming one of your favourite memories in recent times.

It’s your turn to go and the frat guys are already teasing you with endearing nicknames, putting a smile on your face as your hands steady to pull out a tricky Jenga piece with ease. Wooden block in hand, your line of vision skims the chicken scratch of a dare with an effortless glee that’s swiftly replaced with plentiful surprise.

“What does it say?!’ exclaims Trevor, the anticipation in his voice evident as he squeals his words.

You’re reducing to your meek self again, not daring to look upwards as you enunciate your words to aid your own comprehension. “Spend seven minutes in heaven with the player across from you.”

You’re unsure whether the universe has some really good jokes up their sleeve or this is just fate to begin with because when you lift your head up, already knowing, Jack’s amused facial expression speaks for itself.

Hollers and cheers fill the room, enough pandemonium to make you crimson as you stumble to your feet, casting a peek at your best friend with a cross between disbelief and delight. Your best friend, the same one that texted you about Jack’s presence at the party tonight, bawls her hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her chest as a sign of victory with mischief painted all over her. The ridiculousness of this farce eliminates you from ruminating about what awaits you in the closet a mere metres away. The guy most pleased with the situation opens the closet door, a few brooms pushed back into the compact space that is surprisingly clean with no cobwebs or dust in sight.

“All clean and ready for you two lovebirds,” Trevor grins with the keenness of a kid in a candy store, pushing back his long locks of hair as he sends a wink your way. “Don’t get too carried away in there, you’ve only got seven minutes.”

Jack says something in reply to Trevor’s cheeky comment but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts, feet carrying you to the fate of your Jenga dare as the door closes and darkness shrouds you.

It’s silent for a minute, nothing but soft breaths and dulled whispers from outside the closet door. The closet is dangerously compact, your back up against the wall not sparing you from establishing your own personal space, the slightest shift of your shoes inevitably going to knock against Jack’s. Outside in the back garden feels so far away now, slipping through your hands as if sand with the daunting weight of unsaid expectations folding your arms and clearing a stubborn croak in your throat.

As the seconds tick on and no communication is shared, the everlasting laps you round around your mind exhaust you for the last time and you decide to face whatever this is head on, a start being making eye contact with the man that makes it the hardest thing in the world. However, with the tiniest sliver of dimmed light peaking through underneath the closet door, you can see him. Jack, in all his glory - soft and boyish, all charming in nature. The round pool blue of his eyes and the moles that dot his skin like constellations. It’s a rush of emotions, all raw and bare, to overwhelm and comfort you, with the easiness of his smile that directs your way and warms your heart like no other.

“We don’t have to do anything in here, I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explains, his hand reaching to drag down one side of his face as his eyes cast away. “I hope you know that.”

This - you feel resolute in - establishing some sense of security in this room as you smile up at Jack. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

There’s a double meaning in your words and you don’t bother to correct yourself, reading in between the lines cementing itself as your favourite pastime. But, Jack knows and so do you. Perhaps you knew all along that every nook and cranny in your heart was specially reserved for Jack and no other could do. Maybe, you spent so much time in your head because this unexplored territory felt like the birth of the universe, so big and beautiful that it had more questions than answers. A forbidden fruit of sorts - a sweet mirage that the more you pulled away, gravity pulled you right back. A place where you belonged - with him in this moment forever sealed between the two of you.

Jack offers a smile in the wake of your thoughts, timid yet teasing in nature and you can’t resist, in the almost dark of the closet, grin too because this was sealed from the very beginning. Alone with infamous fratboy Jack Hughes, under some sort of awkward pretence bringing you together because you let your fears get the best of you, a stark contrast to what they are now - engulfed in thoughts, feelings of your lips against his and how this charade will come to a close, the building tension boiling till it overflows

“Hey-” you both say at the same time, silencing as you chuckle at the unison you unite in.

“Ladies first.”

“I’m more interested in what you have to say.”

Because there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll steal the words right out of your mouth, the mere thought of those words escaping his lips the centre of all your desires.

He pauses, eyes searching yours for confirmation which presents itself in the toothy grin he struggles not to reflect, canine sinking into the corner of his lips before he responds, “If you insist.”

Jack doesn’t miss a beat as he reaches for your hand, absently tracing patterns into the skin with a thoughtful hum that proceeds his words.

“I think I’ve been a lot more straightforward with how I feel about you, but I’d like to chance to tell you right here that I’m interested in you, in being with you. To the point that the boys get sick of me yapping about it,” you chuckle at his comment, the humour of the joke distracting you from the flood of emotions that submerges you indefinitely. “I felt this way from the time we got assigned to work together. And, if maybe you had any reservations about us, I’d do whatever it takes so that they don’t exist because you’re what matters most and that will never change.”

No feeling can compare to this. It’s almost as if you’re experiencing the full spectrum of emotions for the first time, rejoicing in the sunshine Jack basks upon you in the wake of his confession. A mirage turned reality, the colours are bright and blinding and you’re so elated within yourself that you physically cannot do more than bring Jack’s hand to your cheek to kiss his palm. A confirmation that needs no words.

The warmth of his hand against your cheek melts you into his skin, eyelids falling shut as you revel in the tender caresses of his thumb, of his love and the unspoken words between you. A graze against your throat has your eyes fluttering open, lips parted as Jack secures his hand gently against the nape of your neck. A soft inhale escapes you as his thumb traces the corner of your mouth, dilated pupils flickering between your own and your lips.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.”

A star is born at the centre of your lips as they fold over one another, blending seamlessly together as you move together in synchronised harmony. You taste the remnants of beer, inhale his musky cologne and send yourself flying into another universe as Jack holds you close for impact. All your brain knows to do is convey your sentiment tenfold, kissing him as if touch starved as your fingers thread through the curls of his hair. You commit this to memory - the slowness of the kiss, the scent of his apple shampoo and his curls around your fingers, the feathery feeling of your fluttering heart and the tenderness of your hearts beating as one. So sickeningly besotted with another that everything pales in comparison.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his soft lips when the shared oxygen between you two vanishes, eyes slow to open but ultimately capturing the part of Jack’s rouge lips that quiver in your wake, his gaze meeting yours moments later.

You kiss him again for good measure.

“Alright, horny bastards. Time’s up!” Cole’s voice thunders from beyond the door.

Lips still pressed against Jack’s, you both smile into one last kiss, just as sweet as the last. Jack savours it for what it’s worth, forehead pressed against yours as you two stand together, bruised chests aching with all the yearning that can fit into your palms.

“Consider me persuaded.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #nhl #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #hockey #jack hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes one shot #residenthughes

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divergentboa · 4 months ago

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⋆˚࿔ cw. sub!eren, afab, dom!reader, black coded, dacryphillia ( ? ), overstimulation, cowgirl, mentions of teasing, dirty talk, pet names ୨ baby, sweetheart, pretty girl ୧, cream pie, slight praising, mdni

“oh, fuckkk.”

a whisper drips from his lips as his jade colored eyes immediately roll toward the back of his head when you finally sink down onto his cock after so much teasing, and his mind is just as scrambled as eggs on a hot sunday morning. all while slowly plunging yourself upon him, you pepper wet kisses along his jawline down to his neck in a soothing manner.

incoherent babbles are the only things that eren could fathom once your hips finally meet his. it feels like absolute heaven. your gooey walls so warm and snug and, oh, he begins to think that he hasn’t even been fucking you right because your pussy is so stupidly tight.

he genuinely tries not to combust right then and there. that familiar knot is already built up and it takes everything in him. but he knows that even if he does you’ll give him a sweet smile and tell him how it’s okay.

it was basically suffocation, the way your slit easily sucked him in. his beating hot tip pressed up against that little spongy spot that he loved so much. eren could feel his his waterline dampen and he’s embarrassed because you haven’t even moved yet.

you’ve barely touched him and he’s a mess.

all slumped up against the headboard. softly tanned skin flustered and glistening with a thin layer of sweat building up, breaths increasing every second. wild baby hairs sticking to his forehead and his lips are slightly parted. once you begin moving, he’s quick to nestle his face into your neck with a whimper.

“s-shit baby, fuckkk me, please.”

you let out a small giggle and you feel his dick twitch inside of you when you do.

“already am, ‘ren.” a kiss is planted on his jaw and eren swears he almost cums. his slender hands rested on your fat brown hips as he pathetically bucks his own up into you, trying to match the way you bounced and rolled your hips on his dick. groans and whimpers fall uncontrollably out of his body and you’re no better. moaning prettily into his ear, and eren has a whole eargasm.

you sounded so pretty, moaning his name and telling him how good he felt. his body shook everytime you touched him and it was simply fascinating.

“y-you’re s’deep, baby.” you groan, throwing your head back.

giving up, erens entire head just drops onto your shoulder and you swear that you felt him drooling. your pussy squelched vulgarly every time you slammed your ass onto his thighs. every inch of him touched your walls and it was beautiful. every vein, and even the small upturn of his tip he had. your pussy clenches on his dick and he moans. it was high pitched so you know that he’s close.

“m’god, babyyyy, you feel so— hngg.” eren shudders.

you whine softly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you felt your high coming as well. your eyes flickered down onto him, leaning down to give him a gingerly kiss.

“c’mon, make a big nasty mess in me, m’sweet boy.” you moan, bouncing on his dick, even going as far as to spelling out your name cause you was really like that.

he must’ve took your words to heart because abruptly, you felt his dick twitch once more before you felt him release a thick, huge load of his nut spill deliciously into your leaking womb. it was sooo much, he couldn’t stop. he felt his balls empty out slowly, like it was never going to end.

“mm. so much, eren. all for me?” you fuck him through his orgasm and his body furiously shakes, still not down from his high as his head slumps on your shoulder once again. it just kept coming, and it was oozing out of your hole but eren was quick to force it back in with a stutter of his hips, desperate.

“pleasepleaee, don’ waste none, sweetheart. fuck, i got s’much f’you. take it all, pleaseeeefuckkkk.” he babbles, breathily.

not proofread lol

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thekissofaphrodite · 10 months ago

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OMGG!! THIS IS AMAZING!! LUKE AS A GIRL DAD IS MAKING ME FEEL SO HAPPY

Family, Luke

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Giving Luke Castellan a second chance to be a partner and the father he never was.

Warnings: Kissing, Near death experience, mentions of dead bodies and flashbacks of smut and teen pregnancy.

Author's note: This is requested! I do not support teen pregnancy, Please practice safe sex! LUKE IS 23 IN THIS TIMELINE!! and reader is 20! Luke and the reader became flings at age 19 and 18!

The battle scene was horrifying.

dead bodies of demigods who fought bravely had been scattered all around manhattan. Their divine blood staining the road, the hot scorching sun kissing their bodies.

Your breath hitched as you tried not to step on dead bodies, the putrid odour and lifeless eyes staring back at you were enough to make you gag as flies and insects crawled on the cold bodies While mumbling something incoherently, you clutched the gigantic green tumbler you brought filled with ambrosia, Your kaleidoscope eyes searching for someone.

Then, You saw him.

Luke.

His face was still handsome, even from the distance

You saw the blood pooling in his mouth while it dripped down his chin. The knife embedded under his left arm.

Without even thinking, you ran towards Luke, kneeling beside him. He was choking on his own blood,When he saw you, He smiled, His eyes gleaming with tears as he looked up at you. You came, That's what his smiled meant. the hermes boy tried to say something—But failed. His calloused palms reached your cheeks as you scrambled, opening the tumbler Cap.

"I'm here, Luke. Stay with me and hold on"

The time was ticking, and every second that had passed could be Luke's end. But the bottle wasn't cooperating. It seems like the Fates were telling you something. You used your strength to open it, glancing at Luke every second, scared and anxious.

Then, With a strong force, the tumbler opened. You smiled while you sighed in relief. Some of the ambrosia were spilt. But you couldn't care less.

You poured down the ambrosia down unto Luke's throat, not caring if his own blood mixed with the nectar. All you cared about was for him to live.

Your daughter can't grow up without a father.

The ambrosia was drunken by Luke, Despite him choking a little. You prayed to every gods you could think of to save him, He loves you and you love him, That was everything.

As the tumbler's ambrosia began to slowly empty, its contents drained down Luke's throat. The Hermes boy began to regain strength. He didn't know if the Gods still had mercy upon him..Or the Fates just played tricks, because seeing your presence after years was clearly a surprise.

Yet here you are. Caressing his soft brown curls, Waiting for him, Ever so beautiful with your soft frown filled with worry.

"C'mon, Luke..Say something" you ushered, tears threatening to spill from your kaleidoscope eyes.

He groaned, And for the first time, He said something.

"Hey Beauty," that old nickname that he called you when you two were still flings at camp halfblood rolled smoothly off his tongue, It got you tearing up, He smiled weakly as you hugged him, Luke hissed, You noticed that you squished his fresh wound. You chuckled, still sniffling whilst you helped Luke up.

Luke stumbled lightly, grasping your arms for support.

"So...Kronos, Hm?" You joked, Trying to enlighten his mood, Surprisingly, He chuckled. wiping the blood of his chin.

"I haven't seen you in years"

"Things happen, Luke." You looked away, The thought of keeping your daughter away from his still bothers you. It was maddening. So maddening, You wanted to kiss him and tell him that your daughter was waiting for him at home, desperately wanting your daughter to run up to him and whisper 'Dad'

"Hey.." He cupped your cheeks, His eyes meeting yours as you leaned against his touch, "Tell me everything, Why did you leave?" He asked.

"Remember that head counselor party that you hosted years ago? My sister snuck me with her..."

Flashback

The loud booming sound of rock music coming from the hermes cabin was enough make you cringe, let alone the very short party dress that your sister, Tania lend you, It revealed a not so friendly amount of skin on your thighs.

"Tania, can we please go back? I don't wanna go anymore, " you whispered to your older sister while pulling the dress down, She rolled her eyes and slapped your hands away.

"Out of all the hundred siblings we have, you chose me to accompany you to a party hosted by Luke Castellan himself?!" You screamed, earning a few glances from the campers, but you ignored them aside and picked up your pace, trying to keep up with your sister, Tania.

"This party happens once in a lifetime! Mr. D and Chiron are away! that makes it even better" Squeled Tania as you two reached the entrance of Cabin 11.

Suddenly, The door swung open, revealing luke castellan in a button up shirt, cargo pants and a red cup with liquor. The moment he saw you, you could've sworn you saw his eyes brighten.

"Tania! I see you brought Y/n, This is a counselor only party" Luke smirked, But Tania pulled you closer to her, Winking at Luke.

"She's gorgeous, Castellan. Make her an exception. Would you like that I brought Victoria instead—"

"—Gods no—"

"—Then let sweet y/n inside! Don't you think that I don't know about your ungodly teenage thoughts about her—" Luke pushed Tania inside as she cackled and ran towards her friends leaving you alone with Luke.

The cabin was decorated with colorful party strings and fallen confetti on the floor, Along with a wonky banner hung on the middle of the room saying; Head Counselors party! Come and join us (Companions allowed if they have atleast stolen wine from Mr. D's stash)

You chuckled. Thinking that Chris probably made that banner.

In the corner, You saw a small bar with spilled liquor and and messily scattered cups.

You poured yourself a drink, Mindlessly rocking to the booming music behind you, Then, You saw a tall silhouette towering behind you. The familiar curls on the shadows says so that it was none other than luke.

"Hey beauty, are you enjoying?" He asked, Keeping an eye on you while he sipped his drink, You nodded and did the same, Watching your sister tania flirt with a Hephaestus boy.

"Why did you let me in? you specifically said 'No companions allowed' " That question caught him off guard as he chuckled softly.

"Can I not make an exception? Tania said that afterall"

"What about those 'Ungodly thoughts' about me?"

"You mean what I imagine underneath that pretty dress of yours?" He whispered, Loud enough for you to hear.

His hands reached the strap of your red dress, He slipped it and made it fall, Revealing an excessive amount of your shoulders and neck. His long fingers caressing your neck all the way down to your breasts made you shiver. You looked around, Trying to see if anyone was watching before luke pulled you into a searing kiss, Grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist as he brought you into the bathroom.

It all happened so fast with a simple click of the door's lock.

The dress bunched up your hips, Luke's cargo pants pulled down mid thighs, His lips sucking your neck while he thrusted swiftly inside you, The skin slapping and your moans were muffled by the loud sound of music.

"Luke—"

"I know, Baby, I know just— Hold on—Fuck!" His hips shook, So did your legs as your head fell back in pleasure while his hot seed filled you up, spilling a little.

The sound of heavy panting was broke by you, Wiping the mess he made on your inner thighs.

"So, this is the ungodly thoughts?"

"mhm" He hummed quietly while tucking his shirt in, He looked at you for a moment before kissing your forehead and whispered; "I love you"

Before you could even reply, The bathroom door was shut.

——

It had been weeks since you and Luke snuck out together, It was all a blur.

He was busy tending new campers, Befriending lonely newbies and keeping his cabin on track while you were in the bathroom...Puking...

"This is what I'm telling you! Drinking booze and shit at Castellan's party is the last thing you wanna do!" Your sister Tania had scolded you, she got your hair up in a ponytail while she patted your back aggressively.

"You know what? Fuck it, I'm too busy for this shit" She groaned and left, Leaving you alone.

When the sight was clear, you pulled out a boxed pregnancy test you bought (sneaking out of the border just to buy overpriced pregnancy tests from a cheap pharmacy wasn't cool)

Shutting the bathroom stall shut, You pulled down your underwear and waited for the results.

Those five minutes were the longest of your life.

And when two lines appeared, You exhaled a breath you never knew you held.

You stared at the wall, Rethinking your life choices at the meantime, Luke was your first and Last.

He's the father.

Gathering up courage, you got up and took and took a deep breath before walking out the bathroom, towards the apollo cabin where your siblings awaits.

"Is tania here?" You asked one of your siblings, But they shook their heads, Noticing that you're pale and clammy.

"Y/n? are you sure you're alright?" Asked Gracie, but you smiled weakly and nodded.

"I'll be fine, Just a little stomach ache"

Oh it was more than that...

Your day went on with you laying on your bed, sobbing quietly inside the apollo cabin waiting for your older sister, Tania.

When she entered the cabin, You immediately wiped your tears and composed yourself, walking towards her wobbly.

"I don't have time for whatever shit you've done Y/n, I'm busy—"

"I passed a test" You said.

Her eyes then widened.

"Oh Gods..You mean— THE test for your final semester in high school? I told you you'd pass! We should celebrate! Wait— We should get some balloons and—"

"—Tania—"

"—should we invite Sophie Davies from Cabin 4? She's bitchy but fun to hang out with—"

"—It's a pregnancy test"

There was a deafening silence.

"What."

"It's a pregnancy test—"

"Shut up. I heard you the first time! Who's is it?" She whispered.

"Luke Castellan"

Your sister, Tania stepped away and shook her head.

"You're on your own now, I will not be taking care of those pathetic excuses I call a sibling, Let alone a goddamn baby" Tears spilled from your eyes as Tania slammed the door shut.

The Apollo Cabin was gloomy and dark despite it's residents and campers being offsprings of the sun, You looked around and saw her bags, It wasn't long before you're sneaking out the camp boarder, Thinking about Luke.

"I— We did... God knows what inside the bathroom, and I got—" You inhaled sharply, Your fist curled up into a ball whilst your nails dug into your skin.

"I got pregnant...I didn't know how or what to tell you..and I was a kid..and I was scared so I ran away, I ran to my father's old apartment and got a job as a waitress at this dingy old restaurant owned by married immigrants and I only make seven dollars an hour and at that time May was born and the hospital bills are insane so I gotta borrow some cash from my dad and pay it off— Gods it makes me wanna cry seeing May without a father— I can't live it up to myself— When she started kindergarten she was crying when I picked her up, And I was refraining myself to burst into tears infront of her since I need to be strong for her"

That immediate break down had Luke frozen.

All these years that you disappeared, You were struggling all alone, with your daughter you just had. He wanted to kiss you and say 'It's alright, I'm here' But isn't it too late for that now?

"You hid her away from me, Why?" His voice barely a whisper.

"I was afraid what you'll do to her the same thing happened to those halfbloods, she deserves more than that. I want to teach her who she is before your family tells her what they want her to be"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there" That's the only thing that Luk could ever say, Guilt washing all over him like pouring rain.

"You're here now. You're the hero of the great Prophecy"

"I want to be the father I never was to May" Tears rolled down his eyes as you hugged him tightly, Your head placed against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat.

"May's with my aunt.." Luke smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I wouldn't mind visiting"

There was a car honking in the distance, When the passenger door opened, It revealed your aunt carrying May.

"Look— HEY! Y/N!" Yelled your aunt as she ran towards you, May squealing as she was bounced around.

"Mommy!" Squeled the little girl as she thrashed around your aunt's arms, Begging for you to carry her.

"Is this the baby daddy?" Your aunt asked, Her brows raised and her hands on her hips looking Luke up and down.

you nudged her on her ribs and gave her a look, She rolled her eyes and got back to her car.

The little girl in your arms looked at her father, titling her head in confusion before grabbing his curls, She giggled and looked at her same curly hair tied in pigtails.

"We're the same, Hm?" Luke smiled at his daughter, The little girl gave the same smile before shyly wrapping her tiny arms around Luke's neck.

The sight of them wanted to make your heart melt.

Everything that Luke has ever done was unforgivable. But all that matters now was your family.

A/N

Hey lovies!! I finally finished a request! sorry for not posting for a long time, Believe me when I say that I snuck my phone away in class so many times just to update, but here I am! I used one of Sally's lines from the series here I hope you guys don't mind 😉

Requested by @rainestorm2556 <33

#percy jackon and the olympians #xy/n #thekissofaphrodite #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader

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darylsfavoritegirl · 3 months ago

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Hi i love how you write! could you please write some headcanons about daryl and reader being enemies to lovers?? like if they hated eachother in the beginning like at the quarry and by the end they are utterly in love and they would do anything for eachother

hey anon, first of all thank you :))

+ i think daryl would have biases towards you for things so little, maybe the way you carry yourself and he thought you were too bougie and a show-off -considering how much of a cranky person he was in the first few seasons, i doubt it would take much to annoy him-

+ he'd try to shrug it off, hating how much you take space in his mind because "who even r' yea?"

+ you'd eventually -wouldn't take much of a time- catch on that this man is irked by you for whatever reason and you'd stand your ground -which would mess things up even further-

+ i mean, after all, it's the apocalpyse, you don't know half of the people you're surrounded with at all times, even having to share tents with some of them occasionally. there is no sense of being discreet. so having a redneck talk over you, him not even acknowledging your existence in a group of people when your planning a scavenge/run is eventually... ridiculously vexing...

+ "can you shut the fuck up for a second?

so i was saying..." you'd turn to Shane, explaining your point of view on the run that's to come in a week.

Shane's ear would be on alert listening to you but he wouldn't skip exchanging subtle, cautious glances with the rest of the group. everyone tried to avoid getting into any dixon brothers trouble. they'd take guard against them if really needed but out of all them, you were the one to mess up with him, next to his brother.

+ and well... there is merle dixon. he'd sometimes talk off daryl infront of everyone in mockery but in a more frowning way in discreet saying "Darlenaaa" he'd click his tongue. "what the hell are yea doin' lettin' that woman run her mouth to ma' little brother like that infront of them worthless pricks?"

"shut up" he'd bark to merle.

safe to say, the times he snapped at you would be the aftermaths of merle's mockery.

+ two of you would get close after sophia got lost, by then you and the group had become familiar and you worried for the little girl.

he'd still snap at you and so would you, ruining the nights of y'alls and hershel's family together at dinner tables that were so rare to occur.

"yea ain't no damn tracker." he'd mutter under his breath when it was like the group had sworn to say a last word about sophia's dissapperance for the night, as you all sat down on the dinner table.

"i'm helping." you'd try to prevent your blood boiling and in time, bursting out your rage.

"yea'd be more of a use 'round here"

"excuse me?" you'd look at him in disbelief, dropping your fork and spoon to the table infront of you like a theatre kid.

it would take 5 minutes of heated yellings, veins throbbing on the side of people's necks, faces starting to turn red and for it all to stop, it would take hershel's smacking the table making you all shut your mouths for the rest of the evening.

+ you'd grow even closer when he fell off a horse and as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you that was looking for that girl and knowing that at the other side of the woods, he was also looking... that would make you feel at ease, even daring to think of it as a companionship, if not a partnership that neither of you had signed figuretively. there was no point in looking without him. the woods were too big to cover.

+ you'd be assigned to take care of him time to time. when you opposed the idea, no one listened to you and it wasn't like you could leave him to fend for himself as a bedbound.

his brain would be too numb thanks to the painkillers and antibiotics. he had fever. there were a few nights you sitting on a rocking chair, your eyelids betraying you and daring to shut down but you'd flinch to his mumbles, him tossing and turning on the bed, his incoherent words to whatever nightmare he was having. you'd wonder. what was he seeing in those nightmares that sweat droplets would slide down his temples to the pillows.

the first night you'd sigh, why were you the one wiping his sweaty forehead? why were you the one whispering soothing words that were half silent so that he'd atleast get a good nights sleep, when all he has done was to humiliate you, look down on you, not even concealing his despise towards you?

the second night, you took a deep breath and appreciated how a spine-chilling redneck could be defenseless like this. hell, you even took a joy at the idea, the ends of your lips curling upwards with a wicked smile.

+ after hershel's farm was overrun and you unfortunately found out the hard way that sophia had gotten bitten, you found solace at eachother's existence. in the end, it was the two of you, looking for her day and night.

+ merle dying had benefits for daryl as much as one hates to say. that's when he, after a lost, again, found solace at your presence.

you'd be at the watchtower this time, smoking a cigarette, looking at the sunset. you didn't need words, maybe it was because you still weren't that close or because what would even one say? funny to think, you found out about his brother dying after 3 days. you hated yourself for not noticing something being off. as much as you were desperate for merle to get lost somehow, this would've never been what you'd wish for.

"i'm sorry, you know?"

you wouldn't risk to look at his way, you'd hear a "mmmhm" sound coming from deep of his lungs and his head sagging between his shoulders a second later. and a deep breath he would inhale.

+ you'd definitely get intimate during the last few months when you still had the prison.

doubt there would be much emotion involved, mostly a way of you both releasing stress in the cellblock you had cleared up just for this reason.

you'd both hate yourself for the things you do behind closed doors at nights. thinking you're so stealthy with it, when everyone obviously knows yet no one says a word to another soul about it.

what would else be the reason that you don't know what to do with your hands or your body or your words when your next to eachother?

what would else be the reason one of you chuckling awkwardly to a not-even-slightly-funny joke uttered by the other one?

+ you'd call it love in hidden parts of your mind after losing the prison and settling in alexandria.

you couldn't explain it with anything else.

why was he looking at you the way he was -so penetrating with glossy eyes- when he thought that you weren't aware?

why was he watching you like that, when you opened your eyes for the first time in alexandria when all of you decided to crash in one living room for safety?

with half-lidded eyes, his body resting on the wall against his back.

so deep, his gaze robbed you of any privacy. you felt naked.

so intense, his gaze was sucking you into him.

"mornin' " he'd mutter and make his way to the doorstep.

you'd mutter "mornin' " to yourself, arms wrapped around below your knees, you wouldn't turn around to look at him.

was he watching you like that all night? or was it a coincidence he happened to be staring right at your soul when you opened your eyes?

footnote

ok im loving this. screaming.

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s0lemnhypn0s · 4 months ago

Text

(Warning for this post I'm half asleep so I might be incoherent or have disjointed topics. Bare with me, I'm trying to express my thoughts the best I can.)

(and WARNING! i discuss personal paranoias at one point during this, which include the topic of bugs and self harm)

"Billford is ironic we're shipping them ironically" "We don't actually want to see them together" "We don't think theyre a good pair" "its irreconciliably abusive" "its one sided"

ok I'm gonna put forward a take that might be poorly recieved: I think you all are misunderstanding Billford (And each character individually) and just reducing it to "bill abused ford" takes away so much of what makes their dynamic fascinating. And also claiming "Erm its a bit" while engaging in something you "recognize" as abuse only does a disservice to the topic of abuse and how it relates to the mentally ill (I will get into that later). You are treating the relationship as a joke and only acknowledging the abusive aspects when people come at you is just pretty scummy of you. Speaking as someone who experienced a near identical abusive relationship, where my paranoia was preyed upon, causing me to still suffer from the paranoia of being watched by them or that my abuser will eventually send someone after me.

In general, the existence of abuse is a complicated one and abuse is not a catch all, end all term. Not all abuse is built the same. Billford is undeniably abusive, but there is not a period after "abusive", are you picking up what I'm putting down. It's not just "Bill was exerting power over Ford and thats it"

Lets start with: We all recognize Ford is paranoid, but we don't seem to recognize Bill as paranoid in the exact same way, dare I say - Even more paranoid than Ford. I mean, ford got his "Trust no one" quote from Bill directly saying his rule of thumb for trusting people is to just trust no one. He doesn't trust others - He simply doesn't. And this is part of where Bill Cipher's manipulation of SPECIFICALLY Ford comes in.

Now I am going to speak from a personal anecdote of my experience with paranoia and delusions - Me, I will try to "safeguard" against my every little fear and belief that something will, undoubtedly, undeniably, be out to hurt me, and these safeguards are often extreme in nature. They don't make sense to the people around me, but they make sense to me. Sometimes they hurt the people around me. Sometimes, they hurt me. I believe this is the same with Bill Cipher himself. He is taking measures to make sure his worst fears do not come to pass. And because Bill is decidedly not human, only interacts with humans when he deems neccesary, those measures often take the form of something even more extreme than, idk, me shaving my head because I thought bug eggs were in my hair or trying to cut open my skin because I thought something was living in it. They take the form of something abusive (Which is also just... Something that happens with the mentally ill sometimes. I see you guys trying to separate our mental illness from our actions and claim "thats not making you do that". I see you.). Him trying to guard himself from something so terrible(facetious) as Ford's percieved betrayal ultimately becomes a self fufilling prophecy.

Not to mention, if you guys didn't notice. Bill without a doubt projects his own insecurities onto Ford. "I make you feel important" Ford makes Bill feel important. "No one loves you" He was ostracized in his dimension. "Who will miss you" He destroyed his entire home, nobody would mourn Bill, because they were all gone, long gone. "I'm sending someone to steal your eyes" Might be a stretch, but I look towards the silly straw poem "A different kind of eye doctor, who wants to make his patient blind" Obviously the use of "blind" here is metaphorical, but I feel its still in some ways applicable.

Bill very evidently experienced medical abuse and ostracization in Euclydia, something exceedingly common for those labeled as mad. (Which also brings me to the topic of people saying "I'm so glad they didn't make Bill a sympathetic villain in the book of bill" bc. Hi. I'm a guy thats experienced ostracization and medical staff forcibly medicating me in order to fix me. I think he is sympathetic actually). Not only that, Bill Cipher had a trillion years to fester in his resentment and his guilt, and you think that like. Didn't effect him at all. I really and truly beg to disagree.

Not only that: I think Bill felt a kinship with Ford. Ford was ostracized, he was betrayed by the world (and "betrayed" by his brother), he was regarded as a freak for what he was born with, just as Bill was regarded as a freak for his mutation in Euclydia. Bill thought Ford was just like him. Bill thought Ford would understand him, and furthermore would jump at the opportunity to burn the world down with him. And. to his credit. Ford does, in some capacity, understand him. As much as Ford could understand, with Bills lies within lies. Bill craves the intimacy and fears the touch. He uses fear to get Ford to love him, not only because he thinks it will safeguard him from what he fears most, but likely because it is all he knows, all he was taught. Love through fear. Our love is painful, but we only want to help. Pain in love is natural. It's right. It will only hurt a little. This is how you know we love you. He was shocked when Ford rejected him. He thought he did everything right. He had everything planned, for them to be together for eternity.

And bare in mind also that - Bill. Most evidently. Views himself as a monster. When Ford asks about what happened to his dimension, who destroyed it - Bill responds "A monster.", he says "Sixer, it would eat you alive" when Ford offers to help hunt it down. He lets his mask of jovial, mysterious mischief drop just slightly, and we understand just a little bit more of how he feels about the euclidean massacre, how he understands himself through his actions. And what he understands, is that this is just his nature. "I liberated my dimension, Stanford", a lie but not in the way you'd think. He lies, acting like what he did was intentional, as its the only way he could ascribe "reason" to what he did. It couldn't have been an accident. That is just how I am. It wasn't an accident, and I liberated them. (I wish I could go back.) And I come back to the idea of a self fufilling prophecy, because its again- That exactly. Bill decided this was all he could be, he did everything that would make him a "monster" after the accident that caused the euclidean massacre - And so, he was. A sick prognosis that he created and fufilled with his own two hands, he became the monster he and his home dimension envisioned him as.

Abuse is a complicated subject. What Bill did was abuse, yes, but I also distinctly believe it to be a case of abuse between two mentally ill people, one of which is so old, his hate his anger and his regrets, all are ancient and yet so fresh.

I feel another part of the problem is people are taking Bill at face value. Which is exactly what he wants to do because then you dont get at what hes doing all this for and why. You don't get past the exoskeleton to the tender flesh beneath. But stop taking what he says at face value. Read into it more. Analyze the triangle.

Also it might be controversial (hyperbole.) , but I do thing it means /something/ that during Ford's part of the book of bill, where Bill and Ford's relationship is recounted from his perspective, Bill is notably absent, whereas in the rest of the book, he is guiding us through it and constantly maintains a loud presence in it. You could interpret this in a lot of different ways I think, but the way I've chosen to interpret it is as a mix of shame, regret, and an unwillingness to revisit their past together. Perhaps even Bill having enough respect for Ford to not interject his telling of their story together, if you want to get real complicated about it. Paradoxal, if you will.

(Also I find the theraprism to be a most fucked "end" for Bill Cipher due to the medical abuse he experienced as a child. Something something, mad people can never escape the institutions which seek to "fix" them.)

anyway if you read through my mad sleep addled ramblings CONGRATS! i'm probably going to make edits and add to this when I wake up in the morning but i needed to get this out or id forget. billford is abusive but its way more complex than just... abuse. Abuse is a complex subject and it exists on a spectrum, for a lack of better words. and dont twist my words - That isn't saying "this is less bad abuse", this is saying "its complicated and just leaving it at abusive does their relationship a disservice"

#gravity falls #book of bill #bill cipher #stanford pines #gravity falls stanford #billford #rambles

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bon2bonn · 1 year ago

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Home with you L.H #44

Lewis Hamilton X female!reader

Words count : 1.1k

Dad!Lewis for my sad hours , no thoughts just fluff 💙

The monitor's light blinked before the volume rose up as it picked up the sounds coming from the nursery . You carefully reached to the bedside table to switch down the volume minding your sleeping husband as he snuggled into the pillow beside you , While he's asleep his hand still held into yours , stirring slightly as you shift around but still not walking , so you carefully lifted his his arm to try to scoot out of the bed , but failed as he blinked at you with sleep clouding his eyes .

You gave him an apologetic smile then leaned down to peck his lips then his temple whispering softly "it's okay babe , go back to sleep " but he groaned instead asking in a horese voice "where are you going?" His hand now reaching for yours grabbing your fingers to pull you back to him , you complied with a hand on his cheek causing him to close his eyes momentarily but he fought against the lull of sleep as he looked up at you , so you gave him an assuring smile " booboo is up from his nap , I'll check on him and come back . You go back to sleep " he shook his head with a tired smile " it's okay love , I'll go check on him" attempting to roll out of bed but you caught him before he could , giving him a scolding look with raised eyebrows "don't you even think about getting up , you sir are not moving from this bed before you get enough rest " adding with a knowing look with your free hand on your hip " I know for sure you didn't get any proper sleep the past four days , and stayed up the whole way home . so now you're going to lay back and take your absolutely needed rest and relax and let me and booboo take care of you , understood?" Giving you a fond look then kissing your hand that still held in his , he answered with amused smile "Yes Mrs Hamilton" earning a beaming smile from you before he laid back on your pillow this time watching with half closed eyes as you pulled out of bed to stand and move quitely out of the room before trying to drift back to sleep.

Your bare feet Padded across the hall towards the second door to the left , coming to a stop as you pushed the door fully to step into the dimly lit room . The soft whining coming from the crib inside only ceased as the lights got switched on fully , causing the baby to squint his eyes closed before opening them curiously to take a look at who stood above the crib .

Letting out small gruggling sounds as he saw you smiling down at him , kicking his feet and stretching his arms with a gummy smile as you greeted softly with a wide smile "hi booboo , how was your nap baby?" he let a loud whine frowning with a scrunched up nose before babbling incoherent sounds as if to tell you how it was .

Nodding along encouraging him to babble on before you reached down to caress his cheek , boobing his nose causing him to let a full belly laugh at the action taking hold of your fingers and tugging on them as if to beacon you closer , so you picked him up prepping his face with kisses letting him hold your face with both hands as he let out gleeful giggles , attempting to give few kisses back but ending up giving you raspberries on the cheek.

You held him close as you made your way down the stairs , " guess what booboo ?, today we're going to have a fun day with your papa " his eyes lit up at the mention of his father kicking his feet and babbling a string of what sounds like "pa!" , you nod at him " yeah! ,and we'll give him all the cuddles that he needs , what do you think?" He gave another kick of excitement , settling just as they reached the kitchen .

Setting him down on his high chair , you then went to grab some fruits to snack on with some juice for baby booboo , leaving dinner plans aside , opting to order later instead so to spend more time cuddling and spending time with your boys .

You went on humming a tune as you moved around, taking note of your baby smiling as he followed your movement around , smiling wider with giggles slipping out as you moved towards him while singing aloud and popping your head along with him , both unaware of Lewis standing in the doorway, his smile as wide as theirs as he took in the scene before him . Taking it in before stepping towards them quietly .

He went up behind you , hands going around your waist to hold you to his chest , slowly swaying you as he sang softly from where you stopped when you felt his hands on you , both grinning at your boy who was looking at you with sparkling eyes a wide gummy smile with dimples on full display as he raised his hands high for you to pick him up , and Lewis didn't take time kissing you on the head before he moved to hoist him high igniting a happy scream before he brought him down prepping his face with kisses "there you are ! Didn't know you missed me that much! " Laughing as his boy clung to him wrapping his small chubby arms around his neck and buried his face in his shoulder whining a bit before turning it to look at you , stretching his hand to where you stood behind Lewis watching them fondly .

You took his much smaller hand in yours , watching how his hand barley wrapped around three of your fingers bringing his up to kiss it softly before planting one on his head turning to your husband who gave you a playful pout asking in a hurt voice "what about me ? Where's my kiss !?" Shaking your head you leaned up planting one on his cheek and another one on his lips leaning back down with a beaming smile " there , happy now?." , he gave you a cheeky beaming smile leaning to steal another kiss before nodding in approval " very happy , Mrs Hamilton" . You rolled your eyes at his antics ushering him to head upstairs before going to turn back to grab the food and drinks " alright now , com'on boys we've got a whole day of rest and cuddles to share, now up you go , I'll be right behind you " he stopped you with a hand on your waist giving you a quick kiss before moving towards the stairs listening to booboo as he kept babbling on while looking at his dad with big exited eyes .

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis Hamilton x y/n #dad!lewis Hamilton #dad!lewis #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #Lewis Hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton #f1 x female reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

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goblinontour · 2 months ago

Text

And Seek Delirium

oh, he’s so in love

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

warnings: lawyer!alex (loosely), smut, (slight) sub!alex, handjob, fucking, rimming (f receiving), and one finger goes in briefly, begging, he’s down bad and clingy, think that’s all (no cocobolo)

word count: 6.8k

You had barely settled into bed when the intercom buzzed, loud enough to cut through the pillow you’d been pressing over your ears, pulling you from the soft cocoon. You groaned, dragging the pillow over your head as if it might somehow muffle the obnoxious sound. No such luck. It rang again, louder this time. The buzzing persisted, insistent, demanding your attention until you finally caved, throwing the covers off and scrambling over to answer.

You groaned, rolling over and scrambling toward the receiver. “Hello?” you said, half-expecting what was coming and knowing exactly who was coming but too tired to be sure.

On the other end, Alex’s voice crackled through. “I’m here. I’m here.” he announced, almost triumphant, a little too loud, a little too slurred. That slur in his words made it obvious. He’d been drinking. Hard.

He sounded winded too, like he’d just run to your building when he realised how late it was, probably trying to make up for lost time. You could picture him now, leaning against the wall downstairs, his face probably pressed and squished to the cold metal of the intercom, his breath warm and sticky from whatever he’d been drinking. His words were muffled and lazy, like he was talking with his mouth almost right up against the speaker.

The thought made you smile, even if he was a little late. Okay, a lot late. He had probably been knocking back drinks with some people he was handling business with, forgetting about the time until the alcohol caught up to him.

“I was already in bed.” you sighed, resting your forehead against the wall. You weren't really mad, just...tired. He was supposed to be here hours ago, but you knew how these nights went.

He laughed softly, a low rumble that vibrated through the intercom. “That’s perfect. I’ll just get in with you. Let me in.” he mumbled, voice slightly muffled, probably because his cheek was still glued to the cold metal.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth betrayed you. He had a key, he just didn’t have the one for downstairs anymore. You’d lost count of how many times he’d shown up needing to be buzzed in because he was waiting for someone to come out or for you to answer, usually after he’d lost track of time doing exactly what he was doing tonight.

“I was almost asleep, babe. I’m tired.” you tried again, your voice softer this time, but still teasing him. You’d picked up on the intentions in his voice already.

There was a beat of silence on his end before you heard a soft snicker, and then “I’ll wake you up…with my penis.” he said, dragging out the words, elongating that last one like it was the funniest thing he’d ever said, followed by a self-satisfied chuckle. You could practically hear him shifting against the intercom, probably playing with the buttons like they were the most interesting thing in the world right now, no doubt drawing curious looks from any passerby.

You couldn't help it. You laughed. Despite the absurdity, despite how late it was, there was something about him when he got like this. “You’re an idiot.” you muttered, pressing the buzzer to let him in, already hearing him muttering something incoherent into the speaker as the door unlocked.

He didn’t wait for you to say anything more, probably didn’t even notice the door unlocking. It was a good thing too because, as you heard the faint click of the front door opening, you were sure he wouldn’t have made it up otherwise. His usual trick of relying on a neighbour or someone leaving the building to sneak him in had come in clutch once again.

Alex leaned back from the intercom just in time to see the girl from the floor below heading out, probably on her way to get just as drunk as he already was. He gave her a lazy wave as he stumbled into the building, feeling victorious. His legs were jelly, his head spinning just enough that the idea of climbing the stairs felt like an Olympic event. Still, he managed, one hand braced against the railing as he took each step slowly, as if he was conserving what little energy he had left.

You could hear the faint sounds of his footsteps from the stairwell below. He could’ve taken the elevator. But he was probably too impatient, or too drunk to bother finding the button, his mind already half focused on the thought of getting to your bed.

By the time he reached your door, he could barely remember how many floors he’d climbed, only that the light outside your apartment felt too bright and the hallway felt too narrow. He fumbled for a second, knocking half-heartedly before leaning against the door, waiting for you to let him in.

You could hear him fumbling with the handle, cursing softly under his breath before you finally swung it open. He stumbled in, leaning against the doorframe for a moment, looking as though he’d just finished running a marathon. His hair was a mess, his jacket half-off his shoulder, and he gave you a lopsided grin that was pure, unapologetic Alex.

He straightened up, trying to appear more put-together than he actually was. His shirt was untucked, his belt buckle halfway undone as though he’d already started stripping down on the way. His grin was boyish and crooked, eyes glazed but warm as he saw you standing there in your pyjamas, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Finally.” he slurred, stepping inside with no hesitation and immediately pulling you into a sloppy hug. His arms were loose around you, his cheek resting on top of your head. “Missed you. You look comfortable.” he slurred, his eyes already scanning the bed like it was the most inviting place on earth.

“I was comfortable.” you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow as you watched him. “You look like you could use a nap. You’re drunk.” you said, though your arms wrapped around his waist automatically. He smelled like whiskey and something sweet, and maybe the cologne he’d forgotten to apply properly before heading out.

“A little.” he admitted, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. His breath was hot, tinged with alcohol as he spoke. “But no naps.” he said, making his way further inside with you in his arms and with a drunken swagger that had you laughing again. “I came here for...very specific reasons.”

“Oh, really? And what might those be?”

“To see you.” he mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. Then, without missing a beat, he added, “And to use my penis, obviously.”

He didn’t waste any more time, tugging you toward the bedroom at last, though he swayed slightly with every step, his grip on your waist tightening like he needed you to keep him steady. When he finally flopped down onto the mattress, he let out a long, contented sigh, kicking off his shoes with clumsy enthusiasm.

You followed, climbing in beside him, though you couldn’t help but shoot him an amused look as he wiggled around, trying to get comfortable.

“I can’t believe you came here like this.” you muttered, shaking your head. You rolled your eyes again, but your smile softened. “You’re lucky I let you in.”

“Lucky…” he echoed, his breath evening out as his eyes fluttered closed, some exhaustion catching up with him. “Always lucky…with you.”

You looked down at him, his tousled hair splayed out on the pillow, eyes slightly glassy but still sparkling. As you absently played with the tie around his neck, you felt the warmth radiating from him, the way his body relaxed against yours. “You know,” you said, your fingers twisting the fabric lightly, “you look really good like this. All rumpled and...well, a little ridiculous.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and playful. “Ridiculous? Nah, I’m going for ‘debonair’.” he replied, his lips quirking into that familiar smile. You pulled him closer, using the tie to guide him into a kiss, feeling the spark ignite between you as his mouth moved against yours, warm and inviting.

“Tie me up.” he said, pulling back slightly, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. He stretched his arms above his head as if to encourage you, showcasing his muscular frame even through his shirt and inviting you to play. You couldn’t help but laugh at his boldness.

“How drunk are you?” you asked, already feeling the thrill rise in your chest as you tugged at the tie, loosening it from around his neck.

“Don’t make me ask for it again.” he said playfully, wiggling his fingers at you as he spread his legs, making space for you to climb onto his lap.

You positioned yourself comfortably, feeling the heat radiating between you, and took the tie in hand. “Alright then.” you said with a smirk, wrapping it around his wrists and tying it securely to the bedpost. “Let’s see how well you behave.”

“Hey, careful with that!” he teased, though there was a hint of excitement in his voice. He tested the restraints, a devilish smile on his face as he found himself effectively tied down.

With a sudden sense of dominance, you pushed his pants down, exposing him fully. You noticed how sensitive he was, a soft gasp escaping his lips as the cool air hit his skin. It was also impossible not to notice how hard he was beneath his boxers, the fabric straining against him, barely containing the outline of his cock. His hips shifted restlessly, pushing up as if begging for your touch without saying a word, his breath quickening with every teasing brush of your fingers near his waistband.

“Come on, don’t be cruel.” he groaned, his voice thick with need, his wrists pulling slightly against the tie. His fingers flexed as if to grab onto something, anything, but he was helpless under your control, and the sight of him squirming and the way he couldn’t stop making those delightful little sounds only spurred you on further.

You trailed a single finger along the waistband of his boxers, watching his muscles tense in anticipation. His eyes were glued to your movements, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Patience.” you whispered, deliberately avoiding the spot he so desperately wanted you to touch.

“Patience?” he repeated, his voice full of exasperation, “I had to sit there for hours listening to those pricks talk about nothing but the damn stock market.” he groaned, shifting his hips closer, desperate for your touch. “All I could think about was you.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his confession as your fingers continued their slow, teasing dance along his skin. “Oh? Sounds dreadful.”

“Like we’re lawyers, for God’s sake.” he continued, his voice thick with both desire and annoyance. “What the hell do stocks have to do with anything? I don’t care about any of it. All I wanted was to get out of there and have you.” His breath hitched as he tugged uselessly against his restraints, his desperation palpable as he ground up toward you again. “So, please...stop torturing me.”

You felt bad. He was cute. So you slowly pulled down the fabric of his boxers, revealing the smooth skin beneath. His erection sprang free, hard and pulsing, and you couldn’t help but admire how perfectly he filled your hand. You wrapped your fingers around him, the heat radiating from him sending a thrill through your body.

“Is this what you wanted?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as you gave him a gentle squeeze.

He let out a desperate gasp, his head falling back against the bedpost as he writhed beneath you. “Yes…just like that…don’t stop.” he urged.

You used your thumb and index finger to tease the tip of his cock, swirling around it and pinching.

“God, that feels amazing.” he groaned, biting his lip as he tried to keep his composure, his hips bucking slightly as he chased the sensation.

“Yeah?” you said, stroking him gently as you took in the sight of him. “I hate giving hand jobs, you know? It’s like...ugh...I really have to do it in front of the expert?” You feigned annoyance, though a smirk crept onto your face.

“So just fuck me then, baby.” he said, voice thick with need, his breath hitching slightly as you continued your teasing. “I need you.”

You caressed his belly under his shirt, fingers tracing the lines of his abs, feeling him twitch under your touch. As you continued to stroke him, you leaned in closer, eyes locked onto his, watching the way his expression shifted between pleasure and desperation.

Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “You’ve got to behave then, tied up and all.” His body responded to your words, his desire evident as he wriggled, the excitement bubbling between you.

“Whatever you want, just...please.” he urged. You could tell he was ready, and that only fueled your own anticipation.

“Whatever I want?” you asked as you continued to stroke him, slow. So, so slow. Your words hung in the air, daring him to offer more, testing just how far he was willing to go.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, you could see him trying to hold back a groan. “Yeah, whatever you want.” he said. He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours. “I’d even let you stick your fingers up my arse if that’s what you wanted.”

You paused for a moment, your grin widening at his boldness. “Oh, really?” you asked. He wriggled again, turned on by his own confession.

“Yeah, I’m serious.” he continued, almost breathless now. “Whatever it takes, just…”

“You really want this, don’t you?” you whispered, trailing your fingers lightly down his chest, which rose and fell with quickened breaths, and he nodded, eager but teasingly silent, waiting for you to make the next move.

“Tell me what you want, Alex.” you encouraged, your voice low and sultry.

“Just...just touch me.” he said, and then chuckled softly. “Maybe…maybe no penetrating me right now.” He looked up at you, the amusement in his eyes giving way to raw desire. “You know what I like.” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “You always know.”

With a sly grin, you relished his urgency. “Alright, but you’ll have to wait a little longer.” you said, your fingers brushing lightly against him, teasing him without giving in to his pleas just yet.

“Baby.” he protested, squirming slightly against the bedpost. “Don’t make me wait.”

You chuckled softly at his impatience, your fingers now wrapping around him again, stroking him. He gasped, a low sound that echoed in the quiet room, and you watched him closely, delighting in how his body responded to every touch.

“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” you teased, continuing your ministrations, alternating between firm strokes and soft caresses.

“Ugh, you’re killing me.” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “You know I can’t last like this.”

“Is that so?” you replied, your voice playful. “I should just keep you waiting, then.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, and you could see the way his patience was waning. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.” he said, his eyes pleading with you. “Just let me feel you. I need you…now.”

You felt a surge of satisfaction at his desperation, but the thrill of the moment drove you to keep him on edge a little longer. “Alright, alright.” you said, finally relenting, your voice softening as you looked into his eyes. “You’ve been a good boy. I’ll give you what you want.”

You climbed off his lap to take off his pants all the way, but you left his shirt on. And he watched you like an eager puppy as you repositioned yourself, getting into the right spot. You leaned over him, brushing your lips against his, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

As you reached for the waistband of your own pants, he bit his lip, eyes flicking down to watch you. “You’re killing me.” he repeated, this time with a mix of longing and admiration.

“You like it.” you shot back playfully, finally sliding your pants off and straddling him. The moment you sank down onto him, both of you let out a collective sigh of relief, and you could feel him filling you completely.

“God, yes.” he breathed, his fingers instinctively tightening against the bedpost, the sensation of being tied up only heightening his pleasure.

You began to move slowly at first, savouring the feeling of him inside you, the connection between you two as he watched you with those dark eyes. The tension that had built up earlier was quickly transforming into something sweeter, and as you started to pick up speed, the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room.

“You feel so good.” he murmured, his voice raw as he pushed against the restraints. “Don’t stop.”

You picked up the pace, feeling the heat rise between you as you rode him. The way he reacted, each gasp, each moan, only made you work harder, and you leaned in closer, kissing him, tasting the alcohol on his lips as he responded with equal fervour.

“I could get used to this.” he panted, a smile breaking through as you pulled back slightly, wanting to see his face. “Me tied up, at your mercy...”

“Only when you behave.” you teased, your breath hitching as you leaned back and felt him hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Then I’ll be good.” he promised, his words slurring slightly, lost in the pleasure you were both creating together. “Just keep doing that.”

You obeyed him, even though he was supposed to not be in control. He always had control over you. You sank down deeper onto him, feeling every inch of his cock fill you completely, stretching you in a way that made your body tremble. He let out a groan, his body tensing beneath you, completely at your mercy. You could feel his thighs quivering as you took him so deep that he couldn’t even move if he tried, his cock buried inside you with nowhere left to go.

You pressed yourself against him, holding him so close it felt like time had stopped. His breath came in ragged gasps, his head falling back against the bedpost, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands.

You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the connection as you stayed there, completely wrapped around him, feeling every pulse of his body against yours. He was so deep inside you that it felt like he was a part of you, like there was nowhere left for him to go, and yet you wanted to stay just like this forever, caught in the heat, in the intensity, in the perfect, overwhelming fullness of him.

“You feel so good.” you whispered, barely able to find your voice, your body trembling as you held him inside you. He could only nod, his eyes closed.

You felt a rush of excitement surge through your veins. You pulled your top off, letting it fall carelessly to the side. Your bare skin was now exposed to him, and you could see the way his eyes widened, drinking in the sight of you. Your heart raced as you noticed how his gaze fixated on your breasts, the way they bounced slightly as you continued to move above him.

“God, you’re so stunning.” he breathed. “I want to touch them so bad.” he said, frustration lacing his tone as he strained against the tie binding him to the bedpost. “It’s killing me that I can’t reach.”

You chuckled softly, a thrill of power coursing through you. “What’s that? You can’t reach? Poor baby.” you teased, leaning in closer so he could see every detail of you. “Maybe I should let you have a taste.”

His cock twitched inside you at the thought. He tried to lean forward, but was held firmly in place. “Don’t tease me like that.” he said, half-laughing, half-serious, as he flexed his arms in frustration. “You know how much I want to touch you right now.”

You weren't necessarily used to being this bold with him, to wielding such power and control, but something about the way he looked at you, so desperate, so hungry, made you crave it even more. “Maybe I like teasing you.” you replied. “Besides, you brought this on yourself, remember? Asking to be tied up.”

“Okay, okay, you got me.” he conceded, a grin creeping onto his face. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t give me a little taste of what I’m missing. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Take what? The way you can’t touch me? Or the way I feel wrapped around you?”

Each word you spoke seemed to ignite a fire inside him. You watched as his eyes rolled back, his lips parting in a low moan. “Both.” he gasped, the need evident in his voice. “Just…please, don’t stop.”

You relished the control you had over him, the way he squirmed beneath you, longing to break free just to feel you. “You’ll have to wait.” you said, emphasising each word as you let your breasts bounce lightly in front of his face, watching the way his eyes tracked every movement.

“Fuck-” he groaned, biting his lip as he leaned back against the pillow, straining against his bindings again, but you could see that spark of determination in his gaze. “You’re really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” you teased, your smile widening as you continued to move, your body gliding against him, feeling the friction build between you. “You could always beg for it.”

“Please.” he said, mock seriousness in his tone but with genuine longing beneath it. “I’ll do anything. Just let me touch you.”

“What if I want you to beg harder?”

He threw his head back again, laughter mixing with pleasure as he squirmed beneath you. “You’re ruthless.” he admitted. “But fine, I’ll play along.”

“Good.” you said, leaning closer so your lips brushed against his ear. “Now, what do you want, Alex? Be specific.”

“I want to feel you, I want to touch you, I want you to let me kiss them.” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Just once. Please.”

You paused, considering his request for a moment. “Maybe if you keep being a good boy.” you teased, your fingers tracing down his chest. “You’ll get what you want.”

“Fuckinh hell.” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just- just give me a chance.”

With a soft chuckle, you relented slightly, leaning down so your breasts were just inches from his face. “Alright, just this once.” you said, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. “You can touch them, but only if you promise to be good.”

“I promise.” he said, his voice filled with genuine earnestness. “I swear.”

You leaned closer, allowing him just enough space to brush his fingers against you. The moment his hands made contact, you felt a shiver run down your spine as he explored, his touch gentle yet insistent. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” he murmured.

“I think I have an idea.” you replied breathlessly, feeling the warmth of his hands on your skin, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“Fuck, yes.” he said, his voice a husky whisper, his fingers deftly kneading and teasing. “You feel amazing.”

His hands, though tied, were still skilled, and he continued to find ways to worship you with his mouth when you leaned down and the limited movement of his arms when you allowed.

“Faster, baby.” he urged. “I want to feel you.” You complied, your body moving instinctively to the rhythm of your shared pleasure. “Just like that, love.” he breathed as he watched you bounce on his cock. “You feel so good around me.”

“Yeah? You like it?” you teased, leaning down to kiss him deeply, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“More than you know.” he replied, as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The sound of his restrained moans filled the room as you rode him, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance, his eyes pleading silently as you pushed him closer to the edge. His breath hitched, and you knew he was close from the way he bucked his hips beneath you, seeking more friction, more intensity, more of your cunt, more, more, more.

“God, you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice strained as his muscles tightened. His head fell back against the pillow for the hundredth time, and his chest heaved with each ragged breath.

You were right there with him, feeling the tightening coil of your own release building, the heat rising in your core. His eyes flicked up to you, desperate and overwhelmed, and you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned forward, your breasts brushing against his face, smothering him, with no complaints from on part.

“Fuck-” he gasped, his hands uselessly straining against the tie as he tried to pull you closer, if that was even a thing. “I’m so close.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Me too.”

And then it hit, the flood of sensation overwhelming you both at once. His hips bucked upward, and you felt him pulse inside you as he came, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. You collapsed against him, your chest pressing into his face as your own orgasm tore through you, the feeling of his cum inside of you only heightening your pleasure.

“God, yes.” you both moaned, the words coming out in unison, your voices blending together in the haze of satisfaction.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound in the room your shared breaths, heavy and labored. You stayed there, wrapped around him, feeling his heartbeat slow beneath you as you both came down from the high. His head turned slightly, lips brushing against your skin as you both relished the closeness of the moment.

You let out a contented sigh, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you, still tied but completely at ease. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you felt his hands flex again as he tried to reach for you.

“You’re incredible.” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. His face nuzzled against you, and you smiled, enjoying the closeness that always came with him after you’d fuck.

“You did pretty well yourself.”

Alex chuckled, his breath warm against your skin as he shifted slightly beneath you. “You know, if you untie me, I could show you just how good I can be with my hands.”

You laughed, still catching your breath, and kissed the top of his head. “I think I like you just where you are.”

Your bodies remained entwined, the heat from your skin mixing with the lingering warmth of your shared release dripping between you. You both lay there, catching your breath, your chest still rising and falling as you rested against him. Alex shifted slightly beneath you, nuzzling his face against your chest, his breath tickling your skin.

“You really gonna leave me like this?” he asked, his voice playful, but there was a definite edge of pleading beneath it. He tugged his wrists again, trying to move, but to no avail. “Come on, love. Untie me, yeah? I want to feel you properly.”

You smiled down at him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the dampness from sweat and heat. “You look pretty comfortable to me.” you said, tracing a finger along his jawline. “I think I like you all tied up like this. It’s a good look for you.”

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back into the pillow. “You’re enjoying this far too much.” he said, his tone half exasperated, half amused. “I didn't think you’d get such a kick out of leaving me helpless.”

You grinned. “It’s not often I get you like this, Turner. You can’t blame me for wanting to savour the moment.”

Alex let out a low, frustrated laugh, his eyes following every movement of your body. “Savour all you want.” he said, shifting his hips slightly beneath you, the motion sending a little jolt of sensation through both of you. “But you're driving me insane. I need to touch you. I think I’ve more than earned it, love. I mean, I was good, wasn’t I?”

“Good, yeah. But I’m enjoying watching you squirm. It’s cute. You’re cute.”

He groaned again, louder this time, as he shifted beneath you. “If you untie me, I’ll make it worth your while.” he promised.

“Oh?” you asked, cocking your head to the side as you looked down at him. “What do you have in mind, Turner?”

“I’ll make you feel things you didn’t know you could feel.” he replied smoothly. “Is that convincing enough?”

You laughed softly, leaning down to brush a kiss against his lips, your tongue lightly teasing his bottom lip before you pulled back again. “You always know just what to say.”

Something in the way he looked at you, so desperate, made you finally relent. Slowly, you untied him, his wrists slipping free.

Before he could react, you leaned in and gave him a light slap across his cheek, playful but enough to catch his attention. Just as quickly, you slipped off of him, feeling his cock fall weakly onto his stomach, a frustrated whimper leaving his lips at the loss of contact.

You stood up, moving toward your shirt, the cool air hitting your skin as you picked it up and slipped it back on. But the second you turned away, you felt his hands grasp your hips, pulling you back.

“Hey, hey, hey, no.” Alex growled, his grip firm as he pushed you back down onto the bed. You landed on your stomach with a soft thud, and he was on top of you in an instant, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Don’t go.”

You glanced back over your shoulder, breathless from the suddenness. “I was just going to the bathroom.” you protested, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“No.” he said again, his voice husky with intent.

“No?” you asked, your heartbeat quickening as you felt his hands moving down your body.

“No.” he repeated, more insistent this time as he gripped your hips tightly, lowering himself. His teeth grazed your skin as he bit your ass, a sharp, playful nip. He followed it with slow, teasing kisses on both your cheeks, alternating between them. Left and right. And repeat.

One of his hands slid between your legs, spreading your cheeks apart as his other moved lower, gathering the slick remnants of his cum from you. You felt him pause for a moment, his finger hovering at your other hole.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice full of curiosity, desire laced in every word.

You nodded, your body already responding to his touch. He pushed a finger inside, slowly, testing your limits, watching intently as your body took him in. The pressure sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. But it didn’t last long. Within moments, he withdrew his finger, deciding on something else. The next thing you felt was his tongue, hot and eager, licking at you. The loss of his digit was quickly replaced by the wet, insistent pressure of his mouth as he dove in.

“Oh, God…” you breathed, your fingers curling into the sheets.

With one hand gripping your hip to keep you steady, his other hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingers dancing over your nipple. You couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, pressing into him more.

“Alex…oh, God…” you moaned.

“Tell me how good it feels.” he said. “Let me hear you.”

“Feels amazing.” you managed to gasp, unable to suppress the pleasure building within you.

“Good.” he replied, satisfaction lacing his tone as he continued to lavish attention on you.

With that, he dove back in, his focus becoming more intense. The way he licked and teased sent you further into bliss, and each flick of his tongue pushed you closer to the edge. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, entirely lost in the sensations he was creating.

“Don’t stop.” you urged as your body instinctively responded to his every movement. The tightness in your core was almost overwhelming, and you felt like you were about to shatter at any moment.

“Never.” he promised.

You felt his hand glide down your body, sliding between your legs to find your clit. The moment his fingers made contact, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, sharp and intense. Even drunk, Alex knew exactly what he was doing. He knew you, knew your body, and how to unravel you effortlessly.

His fingers circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure, perfectly timed with the flicks of his tongue. Every touch, every stroke, sent you higher, and your hips bucked against him, craving more. He adjusted seamlessly, his rhythm unrelenting.

It was almost maddening how well he knew his way around you, how he could push you right to the edge with such ease. He played you like an instrument, his hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, coaxing you closer and closer to that sweet release.

Now you were completely at his mercy. Your mind went blank until you could feel that tight knot deep inside you unravelling, pulling you right to the brink of ecstasy.

“Alex…I’m so close.” you gasped, your voice shaky as you surrendered.

“Good, let go for me.” he urged. “I want to feel you. Let it all out.”

With those words, the tension in your body snapped, and you cried out. You felt the world blur around the edges. Alex didn’t relent, continuing to lick and tease, drawing out your release as you bucked against him. You could hear your own cries mingling with his low chuckle of satisfaction.

You instinctively pushed away from him, your body too sensitive to handle any more of his relentless attention. He let you move, but not without a playful protest.

“Don’t make me chase you. You know I’ll catch you every time.”

You squealed, half-jokingly trying to push him away again, though the way your heart raced told you how much you secretly loved the idea. The heat in your cheeks gave you away, and Alex noticed.

“What if I want you to chase me?” you teased, grinning as you tried to put some distance between you and the inevitable.

His gaze softened, but his voice dropped into that deep, sultry tone that always made your stomach flutter. “Oh, love, I will always chase you.” he promised. His hand reached out, pulling you back gently, but with a firmness that left no room for protest. “But right now.” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “I want you right here.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. The weight of him, the feel of his body enveloping yours, made you melt back into him as he pressed you down into the sheets. You were right where he wanted you, where you wanted to be, wrapped up in him, the chase ending exactly where it always did — in each other’s arms.

“God, it’s hot in here.” he murmured, shifting slightly.

“Then take off your shirt.” you suggested.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to move from you.” he replied, his arms tightening around you as if to emphasise his point.

“You want me to help you?”

“Would you?”

You nodded and moved. He let you shift away, rolling onto his back to give you better access. As you unbuttoned his shirt, you could see the excitement in his eyes, the way he watched your every move.

“A little more.” you encouraged, pulling the fabric from beneath him and tossing it aside. He stretched out, muscles rippling beneath his skin, and you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

“I should really clean up.” you said, glancing at the mess between your legs.

“Do I have to let you go?”

“Just for a moment, I promise.” you replied, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips before slipping off the bed. You quickly put your clothes back on, feeling a mix of satisfaction and warmth at the sight of him still sprawled out. Naked. Carefree.

As you returned to the mattress, Alex’s expression shifted to something more clingy. “You took too long.” he pouted, reaching for you and pulling you close once more, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Sorry, I was just trying to be responsible.” you laughed softly, settling into his embrace.

“I don’t want you to be responsible.” he replied, his voice suddenly serious as he nuzzled into your neck. “I want you right here, with me. Don’t leave again.”

“Okay, okay, I’m right here.” you reassured him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” he asked, his tone playful but laced with sincerity.

“Promise.” you said, tracing your fingers along his arms, feeling how he relaxed under your touch.

“Good.” he murmured, tightening his grip around you. “I like having you close. It’s nice.”

“It is nice.” you agreed, feeling your heart swell as you melted into him. “But you have to let me move sometimes, too.”

“Nope.” he replied stubbornly, holding you even tighter.

You chuckled, the sound mixing with the warmth in the air. “Okay.”

You took his hands in yours, gently rubbing at his wrists when you noticed the slight red marks left from the tie. Your touch was soft, soothing, and Alex watched you with a lazy smile on his face. His eyes softened at the touch, giving way to something tender.

“Do they hurt?” you asked as you traced over the marks.

He shook his head, smiling softly. “Nah, I’m good. Actually, I really enjoyed that...and not just because I’m drunk.” he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I mean, maybe the alcohol helped me loosen up a bit, but...I liked it. A lot.”

Your heart fluttered and you squeezed his hands just a little tighter. “You’re not just saying that?”

He shook his head again, his hair falling messily into his eyes as he looked at you, his expression so sincere it almost made your chest ache. “No, I’m serious. It was...I dunno, it felt good to let go. I trust you like that.”

You smiled, feeling warmth flood through you. “I liked it too. You were good to me.”

He chuckled, his voice a little lighter now. “Good, huh? Good enough for a kiss?” he asked.

“Yes.” you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough for him to savour it. He hummed against your mouth, clearly satisfied but always hungry for more.

After a moment, you pulled back, resting your forehead against his as you spoke. “I need to go see the office tomorrow.” you said quietly, watching his face for any sign of protest.

He wrinkled his nose, a little pout forming. “Do I have to come too?” he asked, his voice almost childlike in its sweetness.

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Only if you want to.”

Alex thought about it for a second, then shrugged, that easygoing smile returning to his lips. “I trust you to choose.” he said, his voice warm and full of faith. “Besides,” he added with a playful smirk, “I’m pretty sure I’d just be a distraction.”

“You? A distraction? Never.” you teased, laughing softly as you pressed another kiss to his cheek. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.” he murmured, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go just yet, not like anyone asked him to, but still. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

His warmth and sweetness completely enveloped you. “I think you might be a little drunker than you realise.” you said, though the sincerity in his voice made that a redundant statement.

“Maybe.” he admitted, his voice soft. “Nah, I’m serious.”

You smiled, letting the moment linger as he held you close. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” you whispered, knowing that’s what he needed to hear.

“And I’ll be here waiting.” he replied, kissing the top of your head, his arms wrapped securely around you as the night gently carried you both into sleep.

a/n: i feel like it’s kinda bad but not that bad so it’s alright. this was supposed to be waaay longer but i decided to split it into 2 fics, so i’ll post the other part soon

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #lawyer!alex #goblinontour

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lowtaperfeyd · 8 months ago

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Hi 🥰 can i request scenario where reader is paul’s sister and feyd’s wife who is all about honor and one day after feyd’s fight she tells him that he’s not all that because he doesn’t fight fare and is coward 😏

Rats Vs. Mice

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

author's note: Feyd is so fine. That's all.

warnings: death, blood, house harkonnen, knives.

wc: 940

(Y/N) Atreides’ father, the Duke Leto Atreides, had a saying, “Respect for truth is the basis for all morality. Something cannot emerge from nothing.” This has always been something both him and his daughter lived by. Because there is no honor in a man who isn’t truthful. Most of the time she didn’t think of this saying often, since she had been surrounded by truthful men. But when she married Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen she realized just how much the Harkonnens lie. She realized the truth did also die with her father.

“Does he always fight this way?’ She interrogated her uncle-in-law as they were watching Feyd fight in the black and white light of the Harkonnen homeworld’s sun.

“Yes of course he does!” He quickly responded, feeling a little offended because of the criticism of his heir from his own wife, “What other way is he supposed to?!”

“I didn't mean to offend, my Baron,” she replied, realizing it was a bad idea to bad mouth Feyd in front of his uncle, “I’m sorry.”

“Silly girl,” the only thing that came out of the baron’s mouth after that was, “That boy killed his own mother.” (Y/N) continued to watch Feyd fight.

The way his arm moved through the air in a teasing motion. Like a cat drawing out the death of a mouse. It was complete cowardice disguised by an overconfident nature from many fights against drugged opponents. Drugged opponents who may just stand a chance against Feyd-Rautha. Of course, she did not think he was a bad fighter, just that he was a big baby.

The fight, of course, ended with all of Feyd’s opponents on the ground lying still and Feyd’s knife rising to the air to show the blood of his kills. Pathetic from a man who won’t even fight a sober man, (Y/N) thought.

As Feyd went back through the tunnel he came out of, (Y/N) turned toward the baron and asked him,

“Would Feyd ever fight against a man who wasn’t drugged?”

“Why do you ask this?” The baron asked suspiciously.

“I mean, isn't his birthday coming up? A good present for him would be fighting someone of equal machinery in a sense. You also need to test whether or not he would be good for Arrakis. I know you aren’t happy with Rabban.”

The baron just mumbled incoherently.

“Anyway, I must leave,” She said as she got up, “I have to see my husband.”

(Y/N) began walking through the tall halls of the fortress. Passing grotesque portraits and seeing the black and white fireworks coming from outside of the castle. The fireworks in celebration of Feyd’s victory. Even though it was dark inside the castle the fireworks did light it just enough to where you did not need a glow globe to transverse through the corridors. The air got more frigid as she continued to walk deeper and deeper to her husband’s room. Like walking into the belly of the beast. She got to her husband’s bedroom door and saw two guards outside of it.

“You can leave” (Y/N) said to the guards.

The guards just looked at her and nodded. Afraid of what she would or her husband would do if they didn’t listen.

(Y/N) opened the huge door to see her husband sitting hunched over on his bed. His feet firmly planted on the ground. His knife, still bloody, in his hands.

“I watched you fight today.” She said cooly to him.

“I know,” He said equally, “I saw you from the ground”

“Well congratulations-” She tried to get out before being interrupted by Feyd,

“What were you talking about with my uncle?” He bit out in a mix of anger and annoyance.

“I don’t know what youre talking about.” (Y/N) deflected.

“Don’t play coy!” He shouted and moved to stand menacingly in front of his wife, “I saw you two talking and then looking back at me. What was it!”

“You would be right, Feyd,” She responded, standing her ground, “We were talking about you.”

(Y/N) declared, “How much of a coward you are,” After saying this she could see the anger lighting up in the cold, black eyes of Feyd-Rautha, “How his youngest nephew only fought people who weren’t able to beat him. And how pathetic it is.” She spat at him.

“And would you know something, he actually agreed with me.” (Y/N) lied through her teeth, hoping that Feyd would not go and ask his uncle about it later,

“He agreed that it would be more entertaining if you actually fought people who stab you as easily as you stab them. Have a form of equal bloodshed.”

Even though his wife was still berating him, Feyd continued to look at his wife, the woman who was not afraid to question him or go against when it came down to speaking, and thought about how pretty she would be with her head on a spike. Red lipstick smeared on her lips and hair all messed up from the blade going across her throat.

“And do you want to know the worst thing about you Feyd,” (Y/N) continued to push his buttons, “any honor you have earned is false. The only animal one could compare you to is a lazy, house cat; who can only find entertainment in tiny mice, and can’t defeat the rats which actually pose a threat.”

“You lost all your honor the day you killed your mother.”

"What makes you think you know anything about honor? " Feyd retorted, "Your family is dead and mine is thriving."

#house harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune pt 2 #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen

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t3a-tan · 5 days ago

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How would Oliver handle a human child that didn't have bad intentions but was not gentle enough? Let's say the kid just doesn't really understand the terms "gentle" and "fragile" well enough to know how to handle Oliver and somehow he ended up being held by them? He is so good with kids that I wanna see how he handles that

I had a lot of fun with this! Enjoy ^^

Word Count: 4071

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Oliver couldn't stand seeing upset children. Not because they annoyed him, but because sometimes you could tell just by looking at these children that they were being neglected in some way. Part of him was sympathetic— he had seen so many human couples in his travels and research, and it was often the case that the neglect was unintentional.

But still. Oliver couldn't help but intervene in some cases. Below a certain age it was too dangerous to approach a child— infants and young toddlers tend to put things to their lips, because that's how they explore new things; ie. Oliver.

Past that it was still risky, but he could handle the bruises. Children could be a lot more delicate than most think— once they are capable of reasoning and can communicate, it's simply a matter of finding how best to deal with that particular child in order to get what they need; whether that's food, attention, or entertainment.

Today, whilst checking the houses to update any files he had, he noticed a young child— perhaps only 3 or 4— who had been left all alone. No car in the driveway, no one else in the house. Their face was a bit red and eyes a bit watery, as if they had only stopped crying maybe ten or so minutes before he arrived, but they were still hiccuping and gasping every now and then, in distress.

After checking over his file and taking a look at the calendar in the kitchen, it became clear what had happened. Both parents had left to work and forgot to drop their toddler off at nursery— perhaps just because they were tired, or maybe because both thought the other would do it.

The toddler was half dressed too, so maybe they were in a rush; one parent could have gotten the toddler half dressed and then headed off and told the other to deal with it, only for a miscommunication to happen and…the poor babe be left alone.

With that investigation done, Oliver could not just stand by in the walls and watch. He could not rely on one of the parents realising what had happened, and the longer this went on the more likely it would result in trauma for the child. It may already be the case— though he hoped not.

Three or four…that was a pesky age. Some children that age could reason fairly well— some could not.

Oh well… I will just have to try my best.

He could see a few notes on the counter or up on the fridge mentioning a name that was likely the toddler's; Ava. With that in mind, he made his way to the living room, which is where she was currently sitting and staring at the door. He took off his glasses and left them in the walls beforehand, not wanting them to get broken.

Starting high was safer. From there he could gauge her reaction without risking a sudden grab or curious fingers.

“Ava?” He spoke out from on top of a toy box— the top of which was just slightly hard to reach. He stood still, watching as her head swivelled around to look at him, though she didn't move towards him at all, looking at him with a very neutral expression despite the sniffling. Oliver smiled a little, crouching down despite the fact that really he was the shorter one in this situation. It was instinct.

“Hello there…mummy and daddy went to work, didn't they?” He asked. That got a response immediately and she nodded quickly, inhaling some snot from all the crying as she began to speak, on the verge of crying again as if Oliver had just reminded her what she was upset about in the first place.

Most of it was incoherent— but it wasn't babbling, so that meant she was at a normal rate of speech. From what he could make of it, she was mostly repeating ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’, mentioning a car, using the word ‘gone’, and it was clear that she was telling him exactly what he asked; her mum and dad had gone to work and she got left behind in the rush of things.

Oliver gestured calmly with his hands, showing his palms as he took on a reassuring demeanour.

“Shhh…shhh…it's alright. Mummy and daddy are going to come back.” He assured, reminding himself that children that age are more likely to understand positive language rather than if he said that her parents are not gone. “We're just doing nursery at home today, okay? Does that sound fun?”

She shook her head and wiped at her face, already starting to get upset again, looking around as if her mum and dad might just be behind her.

“N…no…” She hiccuped, voice trembling. “Mummy and…d-daddy…nn— need to…take me…”

Oliver's expression softened, his chest feeling tight at the sight. He tilted his head ever so slightly, debating whether or not he could safely be held by this child or not.

“Ava? Ava, look at me. How old are you, do you know that?” He asked, leaning down a bit. Luckily she did look up at him again, peeking through her fingers and wiping at her snotty red nose with her little hands. She sniffled again, eyes watery, but processing Oliver's question and answering in turn.

“F…four…” She murmured, voice still wobbly through her slightly uneven breathing. It was on the older end of the range Oliver had guessed, which was good, but it was still ultimately a risk.

Oh sod it. If I don't do something now she will get even more agitated and upset. Talking won't hold her attention enough.

He smiled down at her.

“Wow… you're such a big girl! And you know your own age too— very clever.” He gave her a moment to process that before continuing with a question, trying to lead gently into things to avoid making her scared of him. “Did they teach you that in nursery, Ava?”

She nodded slowly, looking up at him with rounded eyes, her lips a little purple from all the crying earlier. Thankfully, despite how she was anxiously fidgeting; rocking back and forth or clenching her shirt in a fist every now and then; it wasn't too difficult to draw her attention away from her missing parents.

“I can…I can…count…all way…to ten!” She responded slowly, wiping her watery eyes again and scooting a bit closer to the toy box Oliver was perched on.

“Can you? Oh, I would just love to hear that. Can you count to ten for me?” He requested. The more at ease she was, the less likely she was to squeeze him to death once he was in her hands. Not to mention the more comfortable she would be with him.

Ava nodded and began to count, looking up and to the side as she thought about it, slowly getting through the numbers, although she repeated some due to her frazzled state. Her voice was still shaking as she took in shuddering breaths every so often, but it wasn't as close to hyperventilating as before.

Oliver clapped his hands together, beaming.

“Bravo, bravo..! Hmm… I'm sure you also have lots of toys at nursery. Is that right?” He asked, getting a nod in return. If he could keep the child entertained until her parents got back, then hopefully this incident wouldn't repeat itself. “And you have lots of toys in this box too, don't you?

She nodded again, bright blue eyes staring up at him with much less wariness than before. She even scooted a big closer, wobbling to her feet and gripping onto the lid of the toy box as she stared at Oliver with some curiosity now.

That's good. Not for my ribs, but good for my mission.

As she leaned on the box it tipped towards her slightly and Oliver just managed to keep his balance. He quickly regained his composure, and walked slowly towards the right until he could simply hop off of the toy box and onto the TV stand right beside it. It was a bit lower down, certainly within reach, but he was pleased to see Ava was only watching him instead of grabbing him immediately.

“Can you show me your favourite toys?” He asked, gesturing encouragingly towards the toy box and sitting down on the edge of the stand, letting his legs dangle off of the edge as he watched, expression bright and warm.

Latching onto the distraction immediately without even understanding that Oliver was trying to distract her, Ava pried open the fabric lid and stuck out her tongue in concentration as she tried to pull out any of her toys. After a few attempts she let out an agitated whine, growing irritated. Oliver was about to intervene when she accidentally knocked the entire box over as she pulled her arms back out.

She stumbled back and fell onto her bum as the box fell, but she was completely unharmed. She momentarily examined her arms with an upset expression, anticipating injury despite their being none. Quickly, Oliver interjected.

“Good thinking! It will be much easier to get them out like this. Clever girl.” He praised, seeing how her eyes locked onto him and a small smile cracked across her expression, arms forgotten about as she quickly focused back on the toys again, getting on her hands and knees, just grabbing whatever was closest and beaming as she showed it off to him.

He chuckled slightly, leaning forward onto his hands as he engaged with her, getting more of a feel and understanding of her personality. Like most four year olds, she soaked up praise and attention like a sponge— but she seemed to roll with things much more smoothly than others her age might have. She was resilient, and self assured; even if Oliver needed to guide her there every now and then.

“Is that your favourite?” He asked, tone full of interest and wonder, as if he was just as excited about the random plastic tractor as she was. She nodded excitedly.

“And— and it's got…it's got um… a farmer. Called…Emma…” She announced happily, quickly dropping the toy onto the carpet as she searched for the farmer. During her search though she got distracted by the other things in there, showing them off only halfway as she piled the various toys around her.

She was playing with and fidgeting with them all individually, monologuing about what she was doing in what was mostly just incoherent babble due to her being unable to pronounce most of the words. That didn't stop her though, and Oliver happily listened, paying attention and engaging every now and then to assure her that all eyes were on her at that moment.

This worked for about twenty minutes until she started getting bored playing all by herself. She looked at Oliver, her red cheeks and purple lips having returned to normal by now since she was no longer crying, the snot having dried to her face. She waddled over to him and Oliver sat up straight, but didn't jolt or make any sudden movements.

She smiled as she snatched him off of the edge of the TV stand, Oliver just barely holding in a yelp as he had seen the hand coming at the last second. He winced, arms held awkwardly to his sides by her grubby fingers and causing his elbows to dig into his ribs a little. Her grip was tight enough to bruise and almost pushed all the breath out of him, but it was just loose enough for him to breathe.

“Ava— can you try to be gentle, please?” He asked, voice coming out a bit strained despite himself. He pulled his grimace into a calm smile, maintaining the same warm reassuring demeanour despite the aching pain in his body.

She paused for a moment, blinking down at him owlishly, not understanding what he meant. Her hesitation didn't last long though as she settled back down by the toys, laying down on her stomach and holding Oliver in front of her innocent eyes, her other hand coming closer to feel his hair curiously, mesmerised.

Oliver held still— squirming would either cause her grip to tighten, which could very easily break his bones, or it might make her afraid of him. He masked a groan of pain by clearing his throat, still smiling as her tiny but surprisingly strong fingers pushed his head to the side slightly.

“You're…as small as Emma..!” She declared excitedly, and Oliver winced when that grip tightened a bit more in turn. Any more and it could quickly become dangerous for him. He recalled the farmer she mentioned before and the size comparison— he wasn't unused to being compared to a doll.

“Oh yes, you're absolutely right! Good girl. I am just the right size for her tractor too, aren't I? Can you put me in the tractor, Ava?” He asked, trying to calmly redirect her and free himself in the process as soon as possible, as it was now difficult to inhale. His ribs creaked in protest, but he fought off the instinct to kick at all.

Perking up at the suggestion she immediately nodded, sitting up on her forearms as she looked for the tractor and finding it quickly. Once she had she shuffled around to face it, resting her cheek on the ground and smiling as she lowered Oliver into the seat of the plastic tractor.

Oliver released some of the tension that had been growing in his shoulders, inhaling some much needed air as he sat back on the slightly too large plastic seat. Just as he was in the middle of recovering though his hands instinctively clutched the fake pink wheel in front of him as the tractor; and he along with it; was suddenly lifted into the air.

It was very disorienting to fly through the air like he was as Ava delightedly made chugging sounds and waved the tractor around to pretend it was driving, but it was preferred to the death grip she had held him in before. After a couple of minutes of holding on for dear life and just trying to pretend he was on the back of his bird steed instead, the tractor finally stopped moving around as he was instead held up close to her eyes.

Oliver was a bit shaky from the sequence of events so far, but he still managed to smile up at the giant toddler.

I'm not sure how many hours I'll be able to handle this. I need to try to explain how fragile I am to her…

Before he could even attempt that though, Ava was already speaking.

“I'll be the… the mummy and you can be the baby..!” She announced, and it was not so much a question as it was a role that, to her, Oliver was already accepting. That became clear when she began to babble about the setting and other stuff, but Oliver was more focused on the hand approaching him.

“Ava, listen to me.” He spoke with a slightly firmer tone than before, due to how dangerous this could get without intervention. She recognized that, her smile dropping and hand falling back immediately, eyes completely focused on him. He suspected he had very little time before she would lose that focus and grab him again anyway, but he sighed in relief that she had stopped.

Looking up at her, Oliver could tell plainly that his seriousness was putting her on edge. So, he shifted his time to be more light-hearted again as he smiled.

“I have a game for us to play. But you have to listen really closely to the rules, okay? Are you going to be a good girl and listen?” He asked.

His return to being more playful made her relax again, and she nodded eagerly at the sound of a game idea. Oliver was relieved. Some children were determined to get their own way, and would simply ignore the idea of another game for the sake of playing what they wanted to.

“I'm a good girl…a-already..!” She pointed out, a bit tongue-tied as most toddlers were. Oliver let out a small chuckle. It was easy to forget how dangerous young children could be when staring up into their innocent gazes.

“You're absolutely right. But, I still want you to listen, okay?” He emphasised, wanting to keep her on track. He cleared his throat. “Do you know about…Goldilocks and the three bears?”

She perked up and nodded, putting the tractor down in favour of leaning on her forearms and looking at Oliver that way. Taking advantage of the solid ground, he climbed out of the driver's seat and stood on legs that felt a bit like jelly from all the jostling that had been done to him earlier. She thankfully did not seem to have a problem with it, instead only taking the opportunity to reach ahead and give Oliver a small poke.

He stumbled ever so slightly, but got his balance back immediately and showed no reaction to the poke to avoid sparking any interest in that interaction. Not until he was sure she understood she needed to be gentle, and he could already tell she was getting distracted.

“In this game, you get to be Goldilocks!” He announced, adding a bit of theatrical flare to his words to make the idea sound as exciting as possible. It seemed to work as he saw her shift with excitement, eyes gleaming with joy. “Do you want to guess what I'll be?”

Ava ummed and ahhed about it for a few moments before looking down at him with a bright expression.

“Bear!” She guessed. That was exactly the answer Oliver was expecting and it made sense for a child of her age to guess that.

“That's a great guess! You were close too. Both things start with a ‘buh’ sound after all.” He praised, emphasising the phonics with enthusiasm. “I'm going to be…a bed.”

The toddler giggled, rolling on the floor restlessly as she took in Oliver's words. She looked at him, now laying on her back and seeing him upside down, thoroughly entertained by the sight and thought. As Oliver wanted, she was hooked.

“You— can't be a…a bed..! Beds are for sleeping..!” She pointed out, finding the absurdity extremely amusing, and intrigued by Oliver's game. He was quick to play into her playful manner, taking on a more humorous tone.

“Ah, you're right! Beds are for sleeping…it would be a bit silly for you to sleep on me, wouldn't it?” He pointed out, eliciting a squeal of laughter. Ava rolled back onto her front, gaze still focused on him, and hands thankfully clutching the front of her shirt instead of him. Oliver smiled, and continued.

“No, of course not… But, just like Goldilocks found a bed that was just right, I want you to do the same thing. And when I tell you it's just right, you win! If you win 10 whole times, you get a prize. Does that sound fun?”

Really it was a very convoluted way of explaining things, but Ava seemed to engage best with praise and play, so Oliver was trying to incorporate that as much as possible to keep her happy.

Ava nodded again, so Oliver explained the rules more clearly.

“First, you're going to pick me up. If you hold me too tight I'll say ‘too hard’. If you hold me not tight enough I'll say ‘too soft’. But if you hold me gently, I will say ‘just right’. When I say ‘just right', put me back down and we'll play again. Ready?”

Without waiting for him to say go, she was already reaching forwards and picking him up, her fingers quickly squeezing onto him in the same painful grip as before. Oliver expected that for a start, and strained to speak, hopeful that this method would work.

“Too hard…” He tried to keep a light tone despite the fact that all of the air was being pushed from his lungs by those deceptively small fingers. Realising that winning wasn't as easy as she first thought, Ava concentrated; tongue sticking out again as she opened her fingers a bit. The grip was much too loose, and Oliver dropped a little because of it, having to cling onto her fingers to keep from falling.

“Too soft..!” He spoke through his big inhale of needed air, relieved at the lack of broken bones despite knowing that this would involve a few rounds of trial and error before she would consistently know the right level of pressure. The fingers closed in again, just on the edge of being too tight. But, as it was close enough, and to avoid making her lose interest too quickly, he counted it.

“Just right! Very good job, Ava. That's 1 win!” He praised. “Aren't you clever?”

The process repeated again and again, and to keep Ava's engagement with the game Oliver offered up rewards in between rounds— like a finger five (which she liked a lot) and invisible stickers. By the seventh round she had learned that ‘just right’ was closer to ‘too soft’ than ‘too hard’, and so Oliver wasn't worrying about having his ribs broken each round anymore.

They reached round 10 very quickly, and she got ‘just right’ immediately, much to her delight and pride.

“That was incredible, Ava! I'm impressed that you got the hang of that so quickly.” He smiled genuinely. Although the bruises from earlier were bad and would take a while to heal, at least he could rest assured that he had a method to help prevent further bruising. “Your prize is… I'll play any game you want.”

Already he could feel the fingers begin to tighten again as her focus turned away from her grip and to thinking of a new game.

“But!” Oliver quickly interjected, stopping her in her tracks. “I'm still going to tell you if it's just right or not when you hold me, okay? Just to test if you're paying attention.”

It was all continuing to go relatively well, and Oliver was perfectly content playing along with the child's imaginative play provided his bones stayed intact. Whenever Oliver felt her grip getting too tight or too loose he made sure to correct her and heaped her with lots of praise once she got it right.

Ava had completely forgotten about her parents being gone, just enjoying playing games with Oliver.

Faintly, he heard the sound of a car pulling up beside the house, and although he wasn't sure if it was one of her parents or not, it was soon confirmed by the sound of the front door unlocking. Ava also paused when she heard the door, sitting up a bit and turning around, her fingers held in her mouth as she stared.

A woman burst into the living room, letting the door swing open and not bothering to close it as she spotted Ava on the floor. As soon as the toddler saw her mother, her grip on Oliver completely released as she began crying again, immediately returning to the same distress as before now that she remembered what had happened. Her little hands instinctively reached towards the woman, making grabbing motions.

Oliver landed on the carpet with a small ‘oof’, before backpedalling into the shadows under the TV stand, watching as the mother rushed over and scooped up the crying toddler, apologising profusely and smothering her in affection to try to get her to calm down.

He smiled slightly at the sight, relieved that Ava was now in her caretakers hands again. His body was equally relieved, and he winced as a pang of pain shot out from the various bruises he had acquired whilst entertaining the curious toddler.

He didn't stick around for too long after, once he was sure that Ava was going to be well taken care of. He managed to find the entrance he had come out from in the first place, retrieving his glasses and placing them on his face. His finger pushed at the bridge to put it in the right place again as he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked outside to whistle for Gale.

I'll have to cut this trip short…but the bruises were well worth it.

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