#just so you know there are better ways to make a fading lipstick than to make it's border white

[simandy]

Yk maybe I'm overreacting but maybe I shouldn't be able to use your °•♡~☆【Ｋａｗａｉｉ　Ｙ２Ｋ】 ☆°•○ cc makeup on paper white sims only

[auroralwriting]

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[the-offside-rule]

Marcello Hernandez (SNL) - The Tour

Requested: I JUST SAW SOMEONE SAY THEY NEEDED MARCELLO HERNANDEZ IMAGINES AND I AGREE

Prompt: Marcello Hernandez x singer!reader

Warnings: nope

The atmosphere was electric as the sun began to set over the city, casting a warm glow over the arena. Y/N’s opening night was finally here, and Marcello could hardly contain his excitement. He stood backstage, a bundle of nerves and pride, knowing that his girlfriend was about to take the stage. As Y/N warmed up her vocals, Marcello peeked through the curtains, watching her. Her focus and determination radiated from her as she effortlessly hit each note, and he couldn’t help but admire her talent. She was a star, and tonight was her night. "Marcello!" She squealed as she saw him through the mirror. Her camera crew for her tour documentary turned to film him walking towards her. He approached her, heart racing, and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Hey, baby.” He whispered, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. She turned, her eyes lighting up as she smiled. “This is the inspirarion behidn your favourite songs. This face right here.” She beamed as she looked into the camera, turning to plant a kiss on his cheek and leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.” She said as he linked his fingers through hers.

“What made you think that? You literally wrote the whole tracklist about me.” He replied, holding her gaze. “Grammy incoming.” He grinned. They shared a sweet moment, knowing the journey they had both taken to get here. After a few more encouraging words, Marcello reluctantly pulled away, knowing she had to get ready. “I’ll be in the tent.” He said, feeling a mix of anticipation and pride. “Okay, I love you.”

As he made his way to the VIP area, he was greeted by fans excited to see him. “Marcello! Can we give you something?” A group of enthusiastic fans handed him colourful friendship bracelets, each one more vibrant than the last. Others offered him small gifts; handwritten notes, a keychain, and even a little plushie. He accepted them graciously, touched by their kindness. “Thank you so much! This means a lot.” He said, flashing them his trademark smile. Their support for Y/N, and their kindness to him made him really settle in. There were a lot of fans who didn't think Marcello and Y/N were a good pairing, no matter how much she sang about him,no how how much she posted about him, no matter how she said she loved him, they didn't like it, but it was moments like this; getting these gifts that made it all go away.

Settling into the VIP tent, Marcello’s heart raced as the lights dimmed. The crowd erupted into cheers, and he could barely contain his own excitement as Y/N stepped onto the stage, glowing under the spotlight. The music kicked in, and he found himself captivated by her performance. All throughout the show, he felt eyes on him, fans recording his every reaction. He watched her sing her heart out, and every time she pointed to him, a rush of warmth spread through him, turning his cheeks a shade of crimson. He couldn’t help but smile; their connection was palpable, and the audience could see it. Despite whispers and opinions from those who thought she could do better, it didn’t matter. Y/N was happy, and that was all he cared about.

As the concert neared its climax, Marcello’s heart raced with excitement and nerves. He knew he wanted to be right there for her when she finished. Just before the final song, he slipped out of the VIP tent and made his way to the side stage, wanting to be ready to catch her when she came off. The final song ended, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Y/N took a moment, soaking it all in, and then, with her heart full, she spotted him. Their eyes locked, and the world around them faded away. She ran off the stage, a beaming smile on her face, and Marcello opened his arms wide.

As she reached him, they embraced tightly, the adrenaline of the night still coursing through them. “You were incredible!” He exclaimed, holding her close. “I couldn’t see you in the tent for that last song! I got so worried!” She said, pulling back to look into his eyes, her expression filled with gratitude and love.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the stage together, the cheers of her fans echoing behind them. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They were happy, and they had each other.

[p0orbaby]

Leah/reader have been going through a sex drought so reader decides to surprise leah one evening with a strip tease. Make it SaUcY plz x

-

The plan has been percolating in your head for days. Weeks, if you’re honest with yourself. The outfit agonised over for days: all silk and black lace that toes the line between sultry and “I’m absolutely trying too hard.” You’ve taken into account lighting (low, warm, flattering) and ambiance (candles, but not so many it screams séance). This is high-level strategy, not a whim.

The drought has been bad. Biblical, almost. You’re starting to feel like one of those tortured protagonists in an indie film about suburbia. “Are we okay?” hangs between you and Leah like stale air. You’re fine—better than fine—but busy schedules and post-match fatigue have made the bed a glorified charging station for your phones rather than a place of… connection.

The sound of Leah’s keys jingling in the lock sends a ripple of nerves through you. You check your reflection in the mirror one last time—lingerie clinging to you in all the right places, lipstick sharp enough to cut glass. The kind of confidence that’s half real, half bravado.

“In the living room,” you reply, pitching your voice just shy of nonchalant.

The door opens, and Leah steps in, looking as gorgeous and knackered as ever. Her hair’s tied up in a loose bun, and her kit bag is slung over one shoulder. She smells faintly of fresh grass and whatever industrial-strength shower gel Arsenal uses.

“Hey,” she says. Her eyes land on you, and she pauses mid-step. “What’s all this?”

You cross the room slowly, hips swaying with more intent than usual. “I thought I’d treat you tonight”

Her bag drops to the floor with a dull thud. “Something special,” she repeats, her accent curling around the words like a tease of its own. “And what exactly does that mean?”

You press a button on your phone, and the opening notes of the song fill the room. Leah freezes as the implication hits her like a perfectly struck free kick. Her jaw tenses, her cheeks flush, and you know you’ve got her.

Her voice is shaky but attempting nonchalance. “Are you…? Are you about to—?”

You step closer, tugging the robe’s belt loose. “Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be”

She exhales sharply, her hands coming up in mock surrender. “Nope. Absolutely nowhere”

The next few minutes are equal parts electrifying and ludicrous. You sway your hips to the beat, sliding your robe off completely before stepping closer to her. Leah sits frozen on the edge of the sofa, hands gripping her knees like she’s trying not to combust. Her eyes flicker between your face and… everywhere else, wide and slightly panicked.

“You’re… really good at this,” she stammers, which makes you laugh mid-spin. “Like, way better than I expected”

“Expected?” You pause, raising an eyebrow as you slide a strap off your shoulder. “What were you expecting?”

She shakes her head rapidly, clearly realising she’s said the wrong thing. “No, I mean—it’s just—oh, God.” She runs a hand through her hair, flustered. “You’re killing me right now”

You step closer, close enough that her knees brush against yours. Her breathing has gone shallow, her lips parted slightly. “Killing you, huh?” you murmur, letting your fingers trail along the line of her jaw.

“I’m actually dead,” she whispers. “Gone. Buried”

You smirk, shifting to straddle her lap, and her hands hover awkwardly at your waist like she’s scared she’ll ruin the moment if she moves too soon. Her eyes search yours, and for a moment, the teasing drops away. There’s just her, and you, and the ridiculous, overwhelming love you have for each other.

“You’re allowed to touch me, you know,” you say softly, your lips inches from hers.

And that’s all it takes. Her hands find your hips, her grip firm but reverent, and she pulls you closer like she’s been waiting her whole life to do it. The playlist fades into the background as she kisses you—slow at first, then deeper, needier, like she’s making up for lost time.

The drought is over.

[jasmineoolongtea]

jason todd's skin isn't untouched in the slightest, far from it.

almost every crook and cranny of his sculpted form has been marked or marred by some sort of scar or injury he's managed to sustain over his time as a vilgilante to the point where there's barely anywhere on his body that's seemingly safe from this apparent curse.

is it bad to say that he's lost count of them over the years? a bruise here, a large jagged scar there; sure, jason used to spend time fixating on them like some strange obsession he couldn't shake off when a new one appeared fresh on the canvas of his skin but by now, all they would get was a slight grimace whenever he caught a glimpse of them in the mirror as his lips draw into a tight line before quickly throwing some article of clothing over his head to cover it.

unfortunately for him (though seemingly par for the course for his life trajectory), many of them are the result of some less-than-pleasant experiences and encounters that and in true jason fashion, he has taken it upon himself to bear this metaphorical cross even if it weighs heavy on him and his every waking moment.

though he would never admit this out loud, he can't help but see each line of scar tissue or faded bruise as another reminder of his own mistakes, failures and inadiquacies and at times, they sting more than what caused the wound in the first place.

however, he's found a type of mark that doesn't hurt as much (quite the opposite in fact) and those are ones caused by you. specifically, the lipstick marks you leave in your wake.

the way you trail and place these kisses across his body is like you're trying you're trying to commit every plane and edge of his chiseled figure to memory and who is he to stop you in your quest. whenever you arrive at one of his many scars on your journey, you always take extra care to linger on them for a second longer than the others and for a fleeting moment, he lets himself forget the backstory attached to them and instead focus on the sensation of you against him.

you treat him like he's your own personal canvas with how you meticulosly choose to mark him such as clustering them in certain places like on his shoulder blade or placing them in a line leading down his torso and ending just below the band of his underwear.

your lipstick is smudged so perfectly around your mouth and when you pull away to go to wipe it off, he has to fight the urge to audibly let out a sigh of disappointment at the sudden lost of contact and how good you look when there's evidence of his presence on you.

although the public will never be privy to this artwork, jason thinks that it just might be one of the greatest masterpieces he's ever had the pleasure of seeing or experiencing.

everytime he catches a brief sight of the faded imprint of your cherry red lips dotted against his bare skin in the mirror, there's a ghost of smile that graces his features as he makes a mental note to ask you to top them up when he deems them too faded for his liking.

he can't decide what he likes better; the feeling of your soft lips against the harsh lines of his muscles or the look of pure satisfaction you get when you lean back to admire your work. jason's never been one for photography but god he wishes that he had a camera just so he could take a photo of these moments to immortalise them for the rest of eternity.

sometimes you like to joke that he's the reason that you go through your lipsticks so fast and he'll offer you a somewhat bashful grin in response although you know that there isn't an ounce of guilt in his bones for this. silently, he swears to buy you a lifetime of lipstick if it means that your lips keep coming back to him.

[signedkoko]

Hello! I just found your blog and oh my god I’m obsessed and I’ve read everything

Can I request some fluffy lucifer and Lilith x fem reader who’s really sweet and ultra feminine? Like 9/10 she’s always wearing a dress or a skirt long or short doesn’t matter, loves doing her makeup and doing her hair? and puts hella effort into her appearance on the daily not for her husband and wife but just for herself and because she can?

Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Comfort]

In which you're as feminine as they come, and both Lucifer and Lilith adore that trait in you.

Lilith likes having you around, because since Charlie grew up theres been a bit of a hole of girl time in her schedule

Being able to give you advice and go to only the best spas in hell, leaving Lucifer behind to enjoy some company time

One of the best parts is when you do her makeup, she always does yours because she was trained from her dancer days, but when you do hers its so gentle

Telling her the purpose of each tool even if she's heard it a million times, each colour and shade, and the small peck you give her when you're done

Lilith is especially amazing with hair, and after helping you doll yourself up for the day its nice to get a good thirty minutes in just stroking through your well maintained hair and decide what'd frame your outfit best

Sometimes when she does your lipstick, she puts it on her and kisses it onto you to give it what she calls 'a faded makeout session look'

Well, it looks good, so who are you to complain

On the other hand, Lucifer is big on fashion and always makes sure he looks like he is making a statement, so he always bring syou back clothes which he has a tailor fix to your exact curve

He always tries to match with you but Lilith tells him off because she doesnt want you to match whatever santa clause aesthetic he has going on

The public loves you, marked as the newest and hottest addition tot heir relationship, which they encourage and tell you about

Lilith will bring you to her magazine shoots and insist only you can style her makeup and hair, though unfortunately they always draw the line at clothes

She thinks you'd dress her better than whatever they do

Charlie is also happy you wormed your way into their hearts, because you are a lot less intensive than her biological parents, and she appreciates how much you visit her

When you suggest Charlie join you and Lilith for some getaways, they both love the idea, so now you get some mothers to daughter time

Author's Note - Back to writing I am actually writing from the airport atm because I am heading back home for christmas! I will have a ton of time to write during that time, since I have now wrapped up my exams. Lucky me! I am 3 pina coladas in and ready for takeoff 🛫

Ayyways, thank you for requesting these two, I actually love poly with them so much and there is not enough of it out there (I would know, I read it all), so I hope I met your expectations 🖤

[stargirllanaa]

୨⎯ "Cruel World” - Rafe Cameron

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Noncon smut, toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, Gun violence, Drinking, ex!rafe, Rafe is actually terrible, psycho ex bf Rafe

Summary: loosely, based on ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, everything goes wrong when you spot your psycho ex bf at a New Year’s Eve party.

A/n ✎: Thank you so much for 100 followers! Ahhhh!!!! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my work, I recommend listening to the song ofc but you don’t have too. Bold and italics are flashback. Enjoy <333

Wc: just under 3k

18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

“Does anyone know where I put my eyeliner?” Your friend Nora asked you, as well as your other friend Violet.

You were all getting ready for some New Year's Eve party at Nora's boyfriend's house; everyone would be home from college for winter break, so you were excited to see all the people you went to high school with.

“No, but I know where the vodka is!” Violet chuckled,

“Come on, let's all take a shot!” Violet continued as she made her way over to you.

“Come on, y/n, are you going to pout all night? He might not even be there.” the brunette expressed as she sat beside you, bottle in hand.

She was referring to your ex, Rafe Cameron, and you knew for almost a fact that he would be there. Nora's boyfriend happened to be his best friend, Topper, and you and Rafe hadn't exactly ended on the best terms. The two of you had been broken up for about a month and a half; for the first two weeks, he would not stop texting and calling you, profusely apologizing, saying things like, ‘I'll go to therapy.’ ‘give me another chance.’ ‘I'll be better.’

It got so annoying that you had to block him; obviously, that wouldn't stop him. The thing was, Rafe was fucking crazy; he would always find a way to get to you, and if he didn't, he simply didn't want to.

“He's going to be there.” You said with a sign, “I'm just going to get fucked up, ignore him, and hopefully get some dick tonight.”

“That's the spirit!” Violet said as you tilted your head back, and she poured the vodka down your throat.

“Are you kidding me?” Your boyfriend asked you in a harsh tone as he stalked toward you.

“What?” you respond as you tried to take a wobbly few steps back.

His eyes narrowed at you, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, aside from the clown makeup,” Rafe said, referring to your red lipstick.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don't like that dress?” Rafe interrogated as he roughly grabbed your waist.

“How many fucking times, y/n?” the blonde shook your body roughly. “For you to get it through your thick fucking skull?”

You were silent, frozen almost; whenever Rafe got violent, you didn't know how to react. You didn't fight; you didn't try to run; you stood wide-eyed in shock because if you did respond the wrong way, you knew it would make things 10x worse than they already were.

“Huh?” He asked you, shaking your body roughly again, waiting for you to respond.

“I- I don't know.” You mumbled weakly.

“You don't know,” he mocked with a dry humorless laugh.

“Go and change. Red looks trashy on you.” He stated before letting go of you with a harsh push into the wall.

All your friends knew that Rafe was bad, but they certainly didn't know how bad he was. You were so good at hiding it, concealer, color corrector, foundation, you name it; if it could cover a bruise, you had it. Every story you told them about your fights with Rafe were very watered down, and because of that, no one knew how truly scared you were to run into Rafe at this party. Not in an ‘Oh, no, my ex!’ way more in a ‘he might kill me way.’ But with every shot you took, you felt your fear start to fade slowly, and when you arrived at the party five shots in, in your little red party dress, you felt way more confident than you should have.

Your arm linked with Violet’s as your friend Nora lost the two of you to find her boyfriend. You and Violet stumbled through the house, passing through groups of people, trying your best to find the drink table.

“By the way, I love your dress,” Violet approved, looking you up and down. “Red is your color.”

“Thank you!” you smiled, taking the compliment to heart; she didn't know just how much that meant to you; you hadn't worn red since Rafe had told you it was ‘trashy’ on you.

“Fuck, is the Britney Smith?” Violet giggled, pointing at the short blonde girl.

“Isnt she pregnant?” you wondered as your eyes fell on the drink table.

“Oh my god, look who's right next to the drinks,” Violet says before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Is that Alex?” you replied, squinting your eyes to get a better look.

Violet nodded in response, eyes wide with excitement.

“Go talk to him!” you smiled at her. “I'll sit right over there,” you said, pointing at the elegant velvet couch.

As you sat on the couch, you couldn't stop thinking about Rafe. Your anxiety slowly started to rise, and you regretted every choice you made up to this point. First of all, you and Rafe had ended on horrible terms; second of all, you came to a party that you knew he would most likely be at, and now you are all alone and a little more drunk than you'd like to be.

You couldn't stop thinking back to that day, your breaking point, the last fight you had with Rafe before you ended things for good.

“Why are you following John B on Instagram?” Your boyfriend asked you as he looked up from his phone.

The question confused you a bit; you honestly didn't even know you were following him in the first place.

“I don't know?” you replied with a shrug. “Probably was an accident; maybe Sarah tagged him in something or-”

“Was it an accident when you smiled at him the other day at the wreck?” he cut you off.

Was he serious right now? John B had waved at you, and you simply smiled in return. You were just being nice; it was nothing more than that.

“Rafe, I-” You were going into very dangerous territory, and you knew that, even though Rafe was physically attractive, he was very insecure, which showed a lot in your relationship.

“If it's another bullshit excuse, I don't want to hear it,” he scolded as he stalked towards you.

He wasn't even giving you the chance to defend yourself, and frankly, it was pissing you off even more than his stupid questions.

“Rafe, I don't even know what you're talking about; I literally-” you plead with your boyfriend, taking a step back for every step he took forward.

“Of course you ‘Dont know,’ you never do.” Rafe hissed at you, moving closer and closer.

“That's what you do; you act all fucking innocent and then sneak around behind my back.” the blonde accused.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” He sneered, backing you against the wall.

That was the final straw; now he was accusing you of cheating from a simple smile and an Instagram follow. I mean, how delusional could he be?

“Are you fucking crazy?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed.

You could tell he was shocked at your response by the way his eyebrows arched upwards slightly, but you could also tell you pissed him off by the way his jaw ticked.

“What did you say to me?” He asked; he heard you loud and clear the first time; he just wanted to see if you had the guts to repeat it.

“Are you fucking crazy? I follow him on Instagram. So what? I can unfollow him if it's a problem.” you argued, shocked that this was even an issue.

Rafe's hand shot forward without warning, delivering a sharp slap to your face. Time momentarily slowed as the impact echoed through the room. As the sting of the slap registered, a deep sadness clouded your features. You hated to say it, but you were used to rafe hurting you.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Rafe asked you. Blue eyes are darker than their everyday shade.

“Huh?” He scoffed, laughing slightly.

“Calling me crazy…talking to me like I'm the one in the wrong?” your boyfriend shouted as he snatched a big chuck of your hair, gripping it tight enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Rafe, I-” you tried to defend yourself as tears clouded your vision.

“No, I'm talking now.” His voice boomed as he screamed in your ear.

Rafe slammed your head against the wall behind you, using your hair as leverage; at this point, your ears were ringing, your head was banging, and you couldn't speak from the pain alone. And Rafe just kept going on and on about how important trust is in a relationship, but how could you even listen when he was gripping your hair so tight? But obviously, Rafe didn't see this as punishment enough because he dragged you by the hair to his closet, and even as he rustled through his sock drawer, clearly looking for something, he didn't once let go of your hair.

“Rafe! Stop-” You were cut off by the feeling of ice gold metal pressed against your temple; you were completely frozen, not knowing what to do; there was no way your boyfriend was pressing a gun against your head over an Instagram follow.

“If you even look at john b again, your fucking dead.” Rafe threatened coldly.

Your heart was racing; Rafe was impulsive knowing him; you could breathe the wrong way, and he would pull the trigger. That didn't stop your breath from fasting and your tears from falling, though.

“You hear me?” he asked, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact.

You didn't say anything; you had been sobbing ever since you felt the metal against your head in the first place.

“Do you hear me?” He shook you, demanding an answer, “I will fucking kill you.”

“Yes!” you cried out, hoping and praying for him to put the gun down and let go of you.

And when you left his house that night, you had never returned. Rafe did have his good moments, but was he worth your life? You broke up with him over text the following day, and you hadn't seen him since.

Since today, as soon as you looked up from your lap, lost in thought, you made eye contact with Rafe. You felt sick when you saw him; you knew he would be here, but you weren't expecting to see him this soon.

You stood up, making your way through the separate groups of people; you needed to find somewhere you could be by yourself because right now, you felt like you might have a panic attack.

“Excuse me,” you repeated over and over as you drunkenly stumbled to the stairs. No one was upstairs, other than maybe a few people hooking up, but other than that, it was pretty empty. You looked for a room, apologizing when you opened the door to see Nora and Topper making out. You stumbled through the halls until you found an empty room, sighing in relief as you closed the door behind you.

Your relief was short-lived because you didn't realize that Rafe was following behind you the entire time, and when he entered the room, you instantly regretted isolating yourself from the rest of the party and your friends.

“No.” you panicked, anxiety rising deep within your stomach.

He was intentionally standing in front of the door. There was no way out.

“Hey, Listen, y/n-,” Rafe said calmly, trying to calm you down.

“No! Get away from me!” you interrupted words slurring, not wanting to hear a thing from him.

You had no desire to speak to Rafe, not after all he had put you through in your relationship, not after you had been in therapy for the past month to heal the pain he had caused you. He wasn't just a regular ex, Rafe was fucking crazy, and you both knew it; you knew he was waiting to see you in person again, probably planning it, planning out exactly how he was going to get you back and what he was going to do if you declined his offer.

“Can you just listen to me!?” he snapped at you, slightly losing his calm demeanor. “I just want to talk-” He said through his teeth, walking over to you and away from the door.

“Well, I don't want to talk!” you barely even knew what you were saying; your head was spinning, and you regretted every shot you had taken earlier.

“So that's how it's gonna be, huh?” Rafe mumbled to himself more than you, fist clenching as he spoke.

As he got closer and closer, the room seemed easier and easier to escape; you knew you couldn't scream for help because of the loud music banging throughout the house; no one would hear you, and you knew you couldn't put up the best fight because you were drunk and Rafe’s also way stronger than you, he had proved this time and time again.

So you took the opportunity to run for the door while you still could. But two steps in, Rafe had already caught you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his stiff chest.

“I didn't want to make this complicated.” he hissed into your ear. “But come on, y/n, it's almost like you want me to hurt you.”

You thrashed your body, wiggling side to side, trying to escape his grip.

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you continued to attempt to free yourself.

“Yes! I'm crazy,” Your ex admitted as his grip around you tightened, and his nostrils flared. “I'm crazy for you.” he dug his nails into your side.

“Get off of me!” you cried out, voice raw with emotion.

“You come to my best friend's party wearing the fucking dress I hate! Knowing I'm going to be here!” he criticized, pushing your body towards the bed. “It's almost like you want me to take it off.”

“Rafe, stop, I-” you were cut off by Rafe throwing you on the bed and wrapping his hands around your throat as he hovered over you.

“Shut the fuck up!” He sneered, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“You fucking left me!” His grip got tighter the more he spoke. “Not even a call, but a fucking text.” he scolded. “Do I really mean that little to you?”

You didn't end things the way you did because you didn't care about Rafe; you cared about Rafe so much, more than you ever wanted to, and that hurt; throughout everything he's done to you, all the pain he's caused you, you still cared. You broke up with Rafe over text because you were terrified; he had threatened to kill you over an Instagram follow; you couldn't imagine what he would have done if you dared to break up with him in person.

But you couldn't say any of that because he was choking you so hard that you couldn't breathe, let alone speak; all you could do was hit his hands repeatedly, hoping he would let go.

“You didn't care about my feelings. Why should I care about yours?” He asked you, looking deeply into your bloodshot, teary eyes with his blue angry ones.

Your mind was racing; Rafe was actually going to kill you. You saw this day coming many times throughout your relationship, but you didn't expect it to happen when you guys were finished. You had shared your body, your mind, everything with him, and you had been happy it was over; you finally were starting to feel like yourself again. But now he was going to take that all away from you.

Rafe finally let go when he started to see your eyes roll back as you started to lose consciousness.

You gasped for air in between coughs as you held your throat, desperate to soothe it from the pain he caused with his harsh grip. You had accepted death. You knew exactly who you were dealing with, and the thought of him killing you over a breakup wasn't too far-fetched.

“You have a lot of making-up to do after the stunt you pulled last month,” Rafe sighed as if he was inconvenienced by what he was doing to you.

The stunt you pulled? Your break up was serious, and for a good reason; he was lucky you hadn't called the police; if anyone had pulled a ‘stunt,’ it was him. He had pulled a series of stunts throughout your whole relationship. He was pulling one now.

Before you knew it, Rafe was tugging at your dress, attempting to pull it off you. If there was one thing you weren't doing, it was going down without a fight. You tried your best to kick him and scratch him, everything, but you were drunk, had just been choked, and Rafe was much stronger than you, so he pinned your wrist above your head with one hand and pulled the bottom of your dress up with the other.

“Remember this, y/n,” He said as he positioned himself up against your cunt. “Remember this feeling the next time you think about trying to leave.” He taunted before pushing into you roughly.

As he thrusted into you repeatedly at a rough and harsh pace, you sobbed. You thought Rafe was behind you; you told yourself you would never let a man hurt you the way he did again. You were so happy when he was gone.

“Fuck, take this off,” Rafe moaned as he pulled your dress over your head.

With every hash thrust, your cries got louder. Rafe didn't care about your pleasure or even his; he wanted to hurt you; he wanted to see your tear-stained face. This was your punishment, and he was succeeding. The only thing you felt between your legs was severe pain.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” you heard everyone downstairs scream in unison.

“Happy New Year,” Rafe smirked as he pulled you in for a rough, sloppy kiss.

Rafe was fucking crazy.

[lilac-5ky]

Aftercare (Toji xFem!Reader)

Summary: A little something where Toji takes care of his darling after a rough session.

w.c: slightly over 800

tags: MDNI, mentions of spanking, creampie, overstimulation, choking, deep throating, daddy kink, marking, Toji being a softie

“You fuck me as if you hate me,” you say with voice shaky, completely out of breath and barely of volume as Toji’s final strand of tousled obsidian hair fades past the door frame, the world slowing down just a bit.

And it is true. He’s left plenty of evidence on your body to be accused of such a heinous crime— The swollen folds of your reddened cunt and the gaping hole that dribbles rich ropes of cum (Toji never liked the idea of wasting a good load on rubber), both agonizing over his absence. The glossy eyes and smeared lipstick (You’d worked so hard to look good for your first-anniversary dinner). The rough imprints of his calloused fingers already settling into a darker shade of pink around your throat. The purple bruises that bloom across your skin like debouched morning glories, cascading all the way down to the sore nipples he’d thoroughly sucked, licked, and bitten into this obscene state.

And that’s only as far as your front side is concerned. No need to think about the persistent sting on both your cheeks or the mean palms that relentlessly smacked them whenever you protested you couldn’t take it— Him.

Don’t go back on me now, sweetheart. I know you can. Pussy’s made for daddy’s cock, mm?

Toji really fucked you as if he despised you with every fiber of his being, but all notion of hatred seems to evaporate when he comes back with a towel drenched in hot water and a warm cup of chamomile. He scoops you in his arms so effortlessly, tucking your head below his chin as if it’s the most precious thing to him— and it just might be, with the way he wipes his mess from between your jiggly thighs, nub so sensitive that when his knuckles brush up against it a whimper is coaxed.

Shhh, he coos, and you feel the timbre of his voice melting in your ears; reverberating in his chest, littered with little crescent moons that trace back to his broad shoulders. You aren’t the one to go down without a fight. You clawed and thrashed your way out of every shuddering orgasm he ripped out, proving the hatred run mutual between the two of you, and at the reminder you smile. A shy smile, not for his eyes, but for his body to feel, as the curl of your lips pressed against each and every kitten claw you could find.

His first instinct is to flinch away. He’s not used to an affection that isn’t packed with pain, but he’s been learning and making steady progress. Because as good as Toji is at hating people to death, he’s come to know that love has ways of killing, too. He feels it every time your eyes meet across a full room; every time your head lifts from your delicate prose to catch him staring rather crudely; every time you welcome him with a grin, even the times when he’s soaked in blood from head to toe, and every time his name leaves your lips as either a moan or a chant, he threads it into a rosary.

The man he once was before he met you is no longer in existence. The wretched, vile, beast of a man who lived for himself and cursed all others. He hasn’t taken on a new gig in months. Hangs up the phone whenever he sees Shiu’s name on it and has memorized all his burner phone numbers. Rejects the heftiest bounties so that your tears, whenever you search for new scarlet strokes on him, remain sheathed behind your eyelids.

He doesn’t want to have to say he’s sorry again. Even if he’s somehow become worthy of your love, he doesn’t think scum like him should be worthy of your worrying. He is an inmate on death row and you are his executioner, and how fitting that is, for he can’t think of a better way to die than from the choke hold around his heart.

He makes sure the towel picks up every last residue of his essence, blows at the smoking cup, and tips it closer to your lips. You gobble it up so fast, dehydrated from the brutal gagging session he subjected you to, and he should be ashamed that seeing you this broken makes his cock twitch again. He still has a few more rounds left in him, but he’ll hold back. As fun as ruining you and reassembling you is, he needs you whole right now.

Once the cup is drained, he sets it on the nightstand and scrubs your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He wonders if the beverage made it down your throat because there’s water running all over your tits. So messy, he hums and reaches for the towel again, and the words that follow, flow so naturally.

“I fuck you because I love fucking you. I fuck you because I fucking love you.”

A/N: brainrot brainrot brainrot brainrot brainrot, h e l p. In the process of writing a proper smut about him. Not sure when it'll drop cause I'm swamped.

[loveshotzz]

Lovesick!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Made For Loving You

summary: Eddie’s in love and can’t keep his hands to himself.

warnings: 18 + mentions of drinking, smoking, public making out, semi public oral (f receiving)

word count: 2k

authors note: distance makes the heart grow fonder and I missed Eddie a whole lot. Here’s him being in love with you and eating you out from his POV. thought I’d try something new. Eddie moved away from Hawkins and to a city where he could be loud and himself in this AU.

Eddie watches white smoke billow from between your parted red lips, faded and just slightly smeared from cupping your hands over them when he made you laugh inside the bar you stood outside of. He was still enamored by them. By you. Your cheeks hollow out when you take another long drag of his cigarette after you’d asked for only one swearing that you only did it when you drank. He’d sit here and watch you smoke his whole pack if you’d let him.

The city skyline shines bright behind you, it's beautiful but its glimmer pales in comparison to the way you smile as you tell him a story he’s already heard before. He doesn’t care, you could tell it on a loop if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that. When you finally hand it back to him he notices the way your eyes glaze over when your fingers brush against his rings.

The urge to kiss you is strong but he’s enjoying this moment too much.

Nodding his head in agreement to a new story about an argument you had with a customer at the record shop he’d met you at, his chocolate eyes catch a glimpse of the faint crimson stain now adoring the butt of his cigarette before pressing it to his plump lips. This was good enough for now.

You're all leather and black and somehow wearing his flannel, the wind kicking up after night fell — you blamed it on the summer chill. He knew he’d never see that shirt again, not unless it was wrapped around your curves.

Exhaling his last drag he flicks the remains into the street earning him the scowl from you he was waiting for. Using it as a distraction so he can press you against the brick lining the outside of the dive bar, he silences your scolding with a smile in his kiss. A soft chuckle rumbling in his chest when you meet his advances with a more than eager mouth.

The drinks you both had makes the swipes of your tongues messier when you lick into each other’s mouths. His hands settling deep and bruising on your hips as you find what he’s learned is your favorite place with fingers tangled in his curls. The light tug you give at his roots pulls a moan deep from his throat.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee just enough to slot a denim clad leg between yours, pushing your skirt up just enough for him to get a view of the lace underneath. He nips at your bottom lip when he feels you immediately start to wiggle against him for more, your neediness that you’d been better at hiding than him sends him into overdrive.

“Eddie” His name slips out from between desperate kisses broken and whiney. He loved getting you like this. You tug his curls again when his lips travel to your neck. Nipping at your sensitive skin, he wants to hear you say it again.

The sound of the music inside goes from a dull thumping to loud enough for the two of you to break apart when the door slams open, drunken laughter joining the rest of the city noise that both of you managed to block out. Still caging you in with two hands on either side of your head, he reaches down to tip your chin up to look at him. The rough pad of his thumb tugs your sucked in bottom lip, his darkened eyes watching the way your tongue glides over your top row of teeth after.

Lipstick smeared even more, he knows he’s wearing some now.

Dimples poking his cheeks when he smiles at you, the look in your eyes matches his as your lips finally give in and pull up at the corners. A giggle bubbles from you as your nervous fingers pull your skirt down one more time and he swears each one he earns is better than the last.

“Wanna get out of here princess?” It's his turn to bite his lip when he catches the way you clench your thighs. Your converse tap against the pavement as you shuffle side to side at the thought.

“My place or yours?” Smirking up at him with mischief twinkling in your eyes he wondered if it was still too early to tell you the three words that he swears have been on the tip of his tongue since the day you met.

—

Eddie’s apartment ends up being the winning destination with the promise of his roommate being out for the night. The awkward run in with yours the last time makes him thankful for his home base advantage. Walking side by side cutting through the neighborhoods to avoid the major streets, your shoulders brush and fingers interlock under the glowing yellow street lights.

The sound of your low humming catches his ears, curious chocolate eyes giving you their undivided attention. It was the song that interrupted you back at the bar and a hint of a small smile plays at the corners of your mouth when you feel his stare on you.

“I didn’t peg you for an Eddie Money fan.” His teasing words turning your hint of a smile into a full blown face splitting grin.

“Sometimes I dabble in the mainstream.” Shrugging nonchalantly you throw him a sideways glance pleased when you see the whites of his teeth. “It doesn’t always have to be hardcore and heavy metal all the time.”

Snorting he throws his head back in a loud mocking laugh knowing damn well you have the same taste in music as him. Too distracted he doesn’t catch the way your eyes stay trained on his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in the white gleam of the moon. His pale skin illuminating under its glittering light, the dark ink that covers every inch of him stands out even more, making all your words catch in your throat.

Eddie finally meets your gaze and he swears he can see the stars in your eyes, suddenly the ten minutes left of the walk seem like a lifetime. You couldn’t look at him like that and expect him to be patient. Smirking with devilish intent he doesn’t hesitate to grab your hips the way he’s wanted to all night.

Dipping into the alley he presses you hard against the quiet apartment building. Crowding your space he wastes no time letting his calloused fingers explore the sliver of skin exposed between your shirt and skirt. Relishing in the way your chest moves with your heavy breathing, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. You always did.

Collecting your lips in a bruising kiss, he hums against you when you meet his advances. The whiskey still lingering on your tongue tastes bitter sweet against the bourbon on his. Cherry red just like your lips, your nails drag against the roughness of his happy trail hidden under his shirt. He shivers from your touch - a growl he can’t stop releasing from his throat, your tongue catches it with ease and lets it mingle with your own.

The blunt ends of your nails drag across his sweat slick skin, the humidity from the day finally setting in. He knows there’s going to be marks as they dig in when he sucks that special spot behind your ear. His badge of honor.

“Let me take care of you real quick.” He always wants to but his body aches with the kind of need that could set a whole forest on fire. “I need to taste you baby.”

There’s a ringed hand already under your skirt, fingertips skimming across the damp fabric between your legs. His words make your hips search for more, the smallest amount of pressure hitting against your bundle of nerves has you moaning his name.

“You’re gonna have to try and be quiet for me. Can you do that sweetheart?” Smirking to himself, he knows he’s asking for the impossible when he gets you worked up like this.

He pushes your panties to the side as two fingers slide through your wet folds. Coating them instantly — he doesn’t think you understand the power you have when you drip like this — just for him.

His shushes are gentle when his lips cover yours to swallow your gasp when he dips them in. Filling you till he hits the metal of his rings, your velvet walls constrict around him. Fluttering when he curves them to the side he’s hard enough to press uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans. Too lost in the way your body reacts to him, he ignores the pain.

Pulling away just enough to whisper “Be quiet” against your lips with a smile, you watch him with an open mouth and pinched brows when he drops to his knees. The loose rocks on the asphalt dig into the exposed skin from the rips in his jeans, but when he catches sight of the way you glisten on his rings he’s only got a one track mind.

He catches your whimper when he removes his fingers and another one when he sucks them clean. Sugar in your drinks all night he swears you taste just as sweet. Your hands twist themselves into the curls on his head, a soft yank and a nudge forward he can’t stop the way his eyes roll back. Pressing kisses to the inside of your sticky thighs, he nips at the dip of your hips before smoothing over them with his tongue.

Quick hands remove your underwear, stuffing the wet lace in his back pocket. Another one to add to his collection.

Usually he teases you more but the strain in his pants is getting worse and the looming threat of someone interrupting what he’s been thinking about all night has him burying his face in record time.

Closing his eyes when you coat his tongue, his hungry mouth starts lapping you up. The roundness of the end of his nose bumping against your clit with every stroke of his muscle in and out of your hole. With strong arms wrapped around your thighs he can hear the way you muffle your cries from under the hood of your skirt when he starts shaking his head from side to side.

The way your legs start to shake and your thrusts start meeting his face he knows you're close. Licking a stipe up your slit he starts focusing his efforts on your button of nerves but not before asking “Are you gonna cum?”

Nodding your head with eyes blown wide and the pink tinge of your lips peeking through the barely there lipstick that once coated them— he’s never thought you looked more beautiful than just like this.

“I want you to give it to me, baby.”

Maybe it was the liquor at the bar or maybe it was just you, but he felt like making you come apart like this was his sole purpose on this shitty earth. Especially when he hears you say his name all pretty like this, like you’re his.

Your fingers pull at his roots when you finally let go, gasping with a hand over your mouth. Nectar of the gods he’s always greedy when he gets what he wants from you so he doesn’t stop till you’re whimpering with a gentle hand to his forehead and a soft “Eddie” falling from your lips.

He leaves more open mouthed kisses on your thighs before coming up for the air he forgot he needed. His hands move to hold your wobbling waist. Dimples in his cheeks again when he smiles satisfied, he’s not expecting the way your fingers curl into his shirt and pull him down to your needy lips. Pressing his body weight against you again he thinks he could die like this.

——

tags: @munsonology @elthreetimes @munsonmunster @eddiesprincess86

[mydarlingclaudia]

taste like the fourth of july

note : dividers are from @/rookthornesartistry. I FUCKING LOVE LANA DEL REY AND I LOVE HER UNRELEASED SONGS GUESS WHAT THIS IS INSPIRED BY!!!!!! SUGAR DADDY CHRIS!!!!!!! OOC DONT WORRY ABOUT IT!!!!!! this is really short but I've had this in my drafts since 9/9 and I finally got it of motivation to write it so it was either getting written tonight or not at all and if you saw this as a wip in a wip tag game and you thought it was gonna be smut sorry lmao

wc : 1.2k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy @withonly-sweetheart @onlyasimp4nobody

desc : sugar daddy. established-ish relationship, fluff, a bit suggestive, age gap (mid twenties - late forties), fem!reader, re8!Chris, not proofread

You love him ‘cause he tastes like your favorite liquor, and also because of the fat wad of cash he’s willing to hand over if you just bat your eyelashes at him. Well, that might be the reason, anyway. Not one of the sweetest men you’ve ever been with, but definitely one of the best.

Chris will buy pretty much anything for you. Expensive shoes you’ve been staring at in magazines? Yours. A watch that’s way too expensive but you like the color? It’s on your wrist the next morning. A cute new swimsuit? It’s yours as long as he gets to watch you model it.

There seems to be only perks when it comes to continuing on with whatever is going on between you and Chris; the money, the gifts, the vacations, the sex. Only downside is him going away for work, but that’s only a small downside, it doesn’t scare you away. Chris isn’t leaving you uncared for, anyway. The $1,000 he gives you the night before he heads out is supposed to be an apology, that’s what he says, at least.

Chris isn’t totally sure why he’s still doing this, he always thought of himself as a more traditional guy, you know, get a girlfriend that would eventually become a fiancée and after that a wife. But when he met you at this nice little restaurant, sitting all alone at the bar, eyeing him the whole fucking night, what was he supposed to say to you when you tapped him on the shoulder and asked him for a cigarette? No? It was a lucky enough guess that you even assumed he had cigarettes on him, maybe the smell of the smoke clung to his clothes more than had thought.

You hadn’t even asked if he was married, you probably saw his ring finger that lacked a wedding ring and took that as a green light.

It’s probably better this way, Christ, you’re twenty-six and he’s forty-eight. Chris could waste a few thousand dollars on you, give you a few years of his time, there’s not much else that he does besides work.

And you’re pretty, you’re worth the money.

So who is he to deny you? It really is a win-win.

But it’s not like you and Chris are exclusive, you were both able to sleep with whoever you wanted, no hard feelings if you do or don’t. And you did, for a little bit, before you started questioning whether or not Chris did the same. You never noticed another woman's clothes in his apartment, no lipstick-stained shirts in his hamper, nothing. You stopped seeing other men maybe a week after Chris had found a few fading hickeys on your hips and left darker ones where they once stood.

Okay, saying you love him might actually be a bit of a lie, but you’re pretty sure he’s lying to you too when he says it back. You’re not one to look things over too much, even if he does truly love you, that just makes your situation better.

Another great thing is date night.

You love vacations just as much as the next person, but Chris' job doesn't guarantee any amount of time longer than a week off. So vacations are a treat, typically a birthday present for either you or Chris, go somewhere with a great beach and greater drinks.

Date night is at the very least once a month, Chris always calls you a few days before, tells you the time and place and you just stand there and nod before blowing him a kiss over the phone as a goodbye before hanging up.

He takes you out, buys you dinner, gets you a new dress or a new necklace depending on how you're feeling that night, then drives you through the city before heading back to either his or your place.

You will admit that you find it funny when he doesn't know how to react to what you do. If you want something, say it, okay? Don't send him nudes, he's told you time and time again that he prefers seeing you face-to-face and not on a tiny screen that doesn't capture the whole view. You think he prefers it that way because then at least he can reach out and touch you instead of trying to type things out on his phone only for them to end up being deleted seconds later.

The morning after date night is never awkward, at least not usually. You either spend the day at Chris' or he takes you out shopping again before dropping you back at your place. You still feel sore most mornings.

This is one of those mornings, you can still feel the burn between your legs and the sting of bites, scratches, and beard burn left behind. Chris isn't there when you grope around for him in bed, but he's quick to come to your rescue as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on before the door opens and he steps out.

"You up?" He's straightening his shirt out when he asks you, not looking at you as you sit up in his bed.

You stretch and rub your eyes, "Mhm," You mumble, Chris finally looks at you.

"You usually sleep like a log."

"Can you blame me?" Another mumble and he smiles, walking over to you and placing both his hands on the side of your face so he can lean down and kiss the top of your head. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Got called in, something important, apparently." He sighs, you push forward and lean against his ribs as he brushes through your tangled hair with his fingers.

"It always is."

"Mm, don't pout."

"Don't want me to miss you?" As always, whenever you tease him, he only responds to you with a light scoff before he smiles. Chris pulls you away from his ribs so he can cup the back of your neck and get you to look at him, his thumbs trace over the edges of your jaw and you hum.

"You still want something from me?"

"A pony," Chris rolls his eyes this time, kneeling so he can wrap his arms around you once you giggle.

"We're going out again once I get back." You think you hear him murmur, "Not to get a fucking pony." under his breath even though you can feel his breath in your ear, but you know he's saying that more to himself than to you.

"Surprise me?"

"Sure," Chris pulls back and kisses your cheek before his lips meet yours, his kisses are as slow as they always are. Chris breaks the kiss for a second only yo mumble, "Do you feel alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit." You press a kiss to his closed mouth as you play with the ends of his short hair.

"I gotta go," You sigh and kiss him again before you pull away from him, he kisses the corner of your mouth before he stands up. "Go have fun today."

"I will."

"Good, I wanna see what you bought later." You lay back down again as Chris starts to pull his jacket on and head for the bedroom door.

"Don't be too late," Your back is already turned towards the door when you call out to him, you don't see the smile he shoots you over his shoulder before he leaves.

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess || Reader Walsh X Daryl || Part 1

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here, beginning with this series since it was the most popular!

Summary: You grow tired of sneaking suspicions of Lori and your husband sneaking off together. When you finally catch them in the act, a grumpy redneck happens to be the one to help you through it in his own, unconventional way.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, nongraphic depictions of sex, TWD typical violence

        You were so sick of him. The way he stood with his hands on his hip, squinting in the Georgia sun as he watched over the camp -- or, more specifically -- watched over Lori. 

        You respected it at first, when Rick didn't wake up and he told you, "We gotta go get Lori and Carol, (Y/N). We just got to. I gotta do right by him."

        You didn't say anything when you were all stopped on the highway, watching the planes drop bombs on the city that was supposed to welcome you into safe refugee centers, and his first instinct was to hold Lori instead of you. You thought she had to be terrified, to lose her man and have to keep their son safe in such trying, unpredictable times. She probably needed that hug more than you, his own wife.

        You were young when you married Shane. A drunken night led to one thing, one thing led to a baby, a baby led to another thing; a ring. But, you had a miscarriage after the wedding, and as we all know that doesn't nullify a marriage. Regardless, it wasn't a bad marriage. The relationship was mostly solid. You had suspicions, like when he'd come home from a night out with the other guys on the force with what you could have sworn were faded lipstick stains that he couldn't wipe off well enough, or smelling faintly of perfume and cigarettes. Still, he took good care of you, and you had a fair bit of freedom. He financed your art supplies, bought you records, helped you get back into school.

        Your parents never had a good marriage so in comparison, you were doing well for yourself. Better than your mom, who lived on wine and Xanax, or your dad, who worked his fingers to the bone in that office, hunched over a computer, addicted to porn and cigars.

        You often wondered if they had survived the initial outbreak, or if they were stumbling around King County somewhere with no heartbeat.

        You shook the thought away, eyeing Shane from atop the RV where you were supposed to be watching for walkers. His skin was shiny with sweat. You wondered how long it'd be before he disappeared into the wood again. Funny how Lori always seemed to disappear at the same time, no doubt leaving Dale or Carol to keep an eye on Carl. Funny how since you'd all set up camp there by the quarry, Lori hadn't been able to make eye contact with you. Funny how he had been short with you, yet somehow managed to remain controlling  as ever. You weren't allowed out of his sight unless he was already out of yours. You couldn't talk to men like Ed or Merle and his brother. You couldn't touch the guns, not until he showed you how to use one properly. You couldn't go wash up in the quarry unless he was there to escort you at night, which he conveniently never was. You couldn't--

        "You alright up here?" Dale asked.

        "Oh. Yeah." You shook your head clean of the whirlwind of suspicion.

        "Don't seem too focused." He observed.

        "Yeah, you're right. Sorry." You said, holding the binoculars to your eyes and turning your attention to the trees.

        "Why don't you go on and take a break. I'll keep an eye out for now." He offered.

        "Actually, you know what? That would be really great. Thanks Dale." You smiled and passed his binoculars to him. You wanted to protest. Watch duty was your favorite, and just about the only thing you could do to make yourself useful aside from washing other people's dirty underwear.

        You climbed down from the roof, expecting to walk over to your husband, but he wasn't where he stood just moments prior.

        You turned to Amy, who was sitting on the steps of the RV, fanning herself. It was a particularly hot day.

        "Hey. Did you see where Shane went? I just saw him over there." You asked, her pointing to where he once stood.

        "I think he went to check the perimeter." She said, holding her hand over her eyes to look up at you without being blinded. It was probably just about noon now with the sun high in the sky.

        "Right." You nodded. You scanned the campers around you. "What about Lori?"

        She shook her head.

        "No, haven't seen her in a while. Carl's over there with Carol. She might know."

        You sighed, thanking Amy as you made your way to Carol.

        "Hey. Seen Lori?"

        "Yeah. She asked me to watch Carl for a bit. Not sure where she went, though."

        You felt a heat in your chest. Exactly as you suspected.

        You jogged back to Amy. "Hey, which way did Shane go?"

        She pointed over to the tree line on your left.

        "Thanks, again." You smiled in a thin line as you marched to the woods. You were determined to put an end to this shit, one way or another.

        You knew they couldn't have gone far. You had just seen him not five minutes ago. You were sure you could catch up. If the Dixons were around, you'd be half tempted to approach one and ask them to track for you. Probably the younger one. That Merle would probably ask you what you were willing to give in return, and you had a feeling he wouldn't be looking for payment in the material sense. You heard quiet rustling and heavy breaths. You ducked down and made slow, quiet steps, glancing down at the ground periodically to avoid any snapping twigs or overly crunchy leaves. You came to some thicker bushes and brush, crooning you neck to peer over the leaves and thorns. 

        Your stomach dropped. There it was. His sweat stained white tee, panting over her navy blue tank top that fit rather loosely with all the weight loss. Her jeans and underwear in a little pile off to the side, his gun set right on top. You clenched your jaw. You wanted to storm over and yell obscenities, to kick them both into the dirt. You were stuck, though. You couldn't move. You were so angry that you were cemented in place. Most of all, you were hurt. You were younger than Shane, and younger than Rick and Lori, but somehow, some way you thought Lori was a friend to you. You watched Carl when she and Rick took date nights from time to time, you two grabbed coffee together, went back to school shopping for Carl just to get you out of the house.

        It would have been one thing had she not known you, had she been a complete stranger, but she was supposed to be a friend, and Shane, he was your husband. Tears stung at your eyes as your pulse became noticeable under your skin.

        That's when you saw something else, a human shape walking up behind them. Could it be? A walker coming to exact your revenge for you? No, you could never be so lucky. It was the Dixon, the young one. His boots were heavy against the forest floor, drawing the attention of Shane and Lori. They both scrambled, Shane standing and buttoning his pants back up as Lori sat and pulled her jeans over her lap to cover herself. 

        "Hey, man -- I -- We can explain --" Shane stuttered, Lori looking mortified.

        "Ain't me ya gotta explain to." Daryl shrugged, glancing over Shane's shoulder at you as you slowly stood to your feet from behind the bushes.

        "Look, man. You say anything --" Shane hissed, no doubt gearing up for some halfhearted threat, but Daryl cut him off again.

        "Won't have to." He told Shane, throwing another look at you, this time prolonging eye contact.

        Shane and Lori followed his gaze and landed on you.

        "(Y/N)" Lori breathed.

        You tore your eyes from the huntsman, shooting visual daggers at your unfaithful husband and his backstabbing mistress.

        Shane took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. You said nothing. There was nothing to say. You just looked at Daryl one more time before you turned around.

        "(Y/N), come on!" Shane called after you. "Let's talk about this."

        You didn't want to. You just stomped your way back to camp, ignoring the curious eyes as you pulled all your things from your shared tent with Shane. You really only had your backpack and a blanket. The two of you shared the sleeping bag and a single pillow, but you didn't want that. It would smell of Shane, and at that moment the thought of him made you nauseous. You took your bag and your blanket, and made your way down to the quarry. Surely that would be the most peaceful place to sleep, by the water, under the stars, away from everyone else. 

        "(Y/N.)" Shane said from behind you after he likely followed you back. "What the hell are you doin'?" He asked, referring to your backpack and blanket in arms.

        "Fuck you." You grumbled.

        "C'mon, what are you doin'?" He asked again. You spun on your heel, seething.

        "No, Shane. What the hell are you doing?!" You shouted, drawing eyes from all around. You didn't care. In fact, you saw it as an opportunity. "Sneaking off?! Getting your dick wet?!"

         "Don't do this here." He said quietly, glancing over his shoulder to where Carol sat with Carl and Sophia. They were all staring in shock, the whole camp. He reached his hands out to grab your shoulders but you stepped back, chest heaving with rage.

        "Oh, why? So your girlfriend's kid doesn't know she's getting down and dirty with you in the leaves out there?" You spat back, only loud enough for him to hear. "You haven't touched me in weeks. Not since the night we left home, but you can't keep it in your pants around your dead best friend's wife?"

        You shoved his chest with both hands, dropping the blanket to the ground in the process. His eyes grew dark, that pleading expression turning cold.

        "I don't give a fuck how sorry you are or aren't. I don't give a good god damn how guilty she feels. I hate you, and I hate her." You added, just to drive the knife in deeper. If they could stab you in the back, you'd stab them in the chest. 

        "Don't be stupid." He growled.

        "Stupid is having unprotected sex in the middle of the woods when your wife is sitting on top of an RV with binoculars. Stupid is fucking your best friend's wife. Stupid is--"

        He grabbed your arm with force, dragging you far away from the others. He lened in close to your face, eyes wide with fury.

        "You need to stop." He warned.

        "I am stopping. I'm stopping all of it. Congratulations, Shane. You don't have to hide your affair anymore. Because you no longer have a wife to cheat on. Oh, and by the way, you suck at hiding it. You both do. The whole fucking camp can see you two disappearing at the same time, every single day. We all see how you look at her, how you play house with her and Carl like your wife isn't sitting ten feet away. Is that what it is? You like making me look like a fool?"

        "I'm only gonna tell you once." He hissed, scowling down at you like you were the one who betrayed him. "Keep your mouth shut."

        "No problem." You sneered. "I'll keep my mouth shut, and you'll keep your distance."

----

        It was dark out. Despite the blazing heat in the daytime, the nights could get pretty chilly, especially down by the water. You didn't mind. You set against the cliff, back rested against your bag, blanket wrapped over you nice and snug. You enjoyed all the stars above. They were hard to see back home, but now, without all the light pollution, they were beautiful.

        "Shouldn't be out here alone." A husky voice rasped. You looked down past your feet to see the shadow of an archer, the very one who happened to catch Shane and Lori when you did.

        "Nah. If any of those freaks stumble through here, they'll be drawn to the fire and the lanterns. I'm safer than ever over here in the dark."

        "Mm." He hummed. "Y'alright? After--"

        "After I caught my husband fucking another woman? Yeah. All things considered, I'm better than ever." You scoffed.

        "Bein' mad don't mean ya gotta be stupid. Can't stay out here." He insisted.

        "Well, my tent is Shane's tent, and the RV is full." You sighed.

        "Jus' take mine." He offered.

        "Yours." You repeated. "And you're gonna sleep where?"

        "Outside. Prefer it that way anyway." He shrugged.

        "Yeah, no. I'm not kicking you out of your own tent."

        "Ain't kickin' me out if I offer." 

        "Well, thanks, but I'll be declining that offer."

        "Suit yourself." He said as he walked back to camp. Daryl wasn't the type to go out of his way for someone else. In fact, it was rather annoying that you couldn't accept his kindness when he felt obliged to offer it. He saw how you looked when you caught them, the sickening blend of grief and rage. You hadn't done anything to deserve that, at least to his knowledge, yet you were the one with nowhere to sleep. It didn't sit right with him.

        He remembered something, though. A bottle of whiskey he had stashed away in his tent. If he couldn't convince you to sleep somewhere warmer and safer than on the bed of red clay by the water, maybe you'd accept something to take your mind off it all.

        He ducked into his tent and grabbed his bottle, paying no mind to his fellow survivors all huddled around the fire making small talk. Lori and Shane sat near each other, Carl in between them talking to Shane about his favorite heroes, Shane telling him stories about his dad.

        Shane's eye caught Daryl as he made his way down the quarry with a bottle of liquor, no doubt on his way to you. He felt a heat in his chest, the same kind you felt when you found him rolling in the dirt with Lori. She noticed his sudden tension and followed his gaze. She looked back to Shane with worry, attempting to calm him with her eyes.

        Daryl found you laying on your side, backpack under your cheek like a pillow.

        "Ya sleep?" He asked.

        "No." You said, monotone and irritable.

        "Ya like whiskey?"

        You sat up. Of course you liked whiskey, this is the south.

        "You have some?" You inquired. He held the bottle out to you and you took it, twisting off the cap and taking a large swig. "Thanks."

        "Ain't a gift." He clarified. "But ya look like you could use a drink."

        He sat down a foot away from you, facing the water. You passed the bottle back to him.

        "Well, thanks for sharing."

        "Mhm."

        "What would you do?" You asked him.

        "Huh?"

        "I mean if you had a wife out here and you caught her fucking someone else."

        "Kick her outta my tent." He said.

        "And if it was her tent?"

        "Too bad. Shouldn't've been sleepin' around." He shrugged, swigging the bottle and passing it to you.

        "Uhuh." You nodded, sipping. "What else?"

        "You askin' me for advice or somethin'?" 

        "Something like that." You guessed.

        "Well I'd probably kick his ass for fuckin' my wife knowin' I was right there."

        "Mm. I'd love to but I can't exactly whoop someone who still has to look out for a kid."

        "Guess ya just gotta ignore 'em." He suggested, taking the bottle as you handed it over.

        "How? I live with them."

        "Want me to kill 'em?" He joked. You chuckled.

        "Kinda." You admitted.

        "Mm. Too easy. I'd tie 'em up outside the city and leave 'em to the walkers." 

        "Oh, you've put thought into this?" You asked. He tipped the bottle bac and took a gulp.

        "Nah. If I did I'd have somethin' more creative."

        "The hell's this?" Shane asked, suddenly looming over the two of you.

        Daryl stood up. "Just havin' a drink." He said, eyeing Shane.

        "With my wife?" Shane stepped forward, so Daryl did too.

        "Looks single to me." Daryl shrugged. He didn't come over with the intentions of making a move on you. Really he hadn't noticed you around at all. He, however, also wasn't one to back down from a fight, and he already had a distaste for the ex-fed, self proclaimed leader.

        "What?" Shane asked through gritted teeth, swaying as he grew more antsy to take a swing. 

        "You're a real piece of work, you know that Shane?" You sighed, standing up. You weren't phased by his sudden intrusion, you knew him too well to be surprised.

        "Yeah, why don't ya go back to sleepin' with the widow?" Daryl added. That was enough for Shane. He threw the first punch, but Daryl recovered quickly, getting a good knock to the ribs in before you inserted yourself between them, one hand to each man's chest.

        "Can we chill with the dick-measuring contest? He brought me a drink because he felt bad for me. Nothing else, because unlike you," you said to Shane, "some men are capable of keeping their willies tucked away."

        "Yeah, right, like he wasn't just waitin' for you to get drunk and start feelin' vengeful." Shane spat.

        "I don't fuck drunk girls, asshole." Daryl spoke up. "That's for cops and losers."

        "Man, you think you can take me? You want a piece of this?" Shane started to raise his voice now.

        "Yeah, c'mon then, prick." Daryl said, throwing his arms up. The two men stepped in circles around you as you tried to keep a barrier between them.

        "Yeah, come on then, pussy!" Shane shouted.

        "Pussy? Nah, man. You're the coward, slidin' your dick in some vulnerable window when ya had a tight piece o' ass right here waitin' for ya every night!" Daryl yelled back.

        "What is goin' on here?" Lori came in, eyes blazing between the three of you.

        "Wha'd'ya waitin' for, man? There's your side piece, go on and get her!" Daryl said.

        Shane lunged forward and you gripped around his torso tight, banking on the hope that he wouldn't hurt you to get past you, at least nit in front of her.

        "Don't fuckin' talk about here like that!" Shane seethed.

        "Yeah well ya sure didn't care 'bout me callin' your wife a tight piece of ass! I see where your priorities lie!"

        You couldn't afford to get distracted with the details as you put all your focus and strength into holding on to Shane to prevent anyone from getting hurt. However, the Dixon made some valid points.

        "Stop it, you two!" Lori begged.

        "Hate to say it," you strained against Shane's strength, digging your feet into the dirt as his strong frame fought against you. "But I'm with Lori."

        "Y'all need to calm down before--"

        "Is everything okay?" Dale's voice sounded from behind Lori, cutting her off. Amy, Andrea, and Morales stood with him. Lori sighed and put her hand over her forehead.

        Shane finally relented and you gratefully let go of him, turning to face the crowd of onlookers.

        "What happened here?" Dale inquired.

        "He was makin' a move on my wife." Shane panted, still coming down from the surge of adrenaline and rage.

        You scoffed, gawking at his audacity. You glared at Lori for a moment, running your tongue over your teeth before you shook your head and chuckled.

        "No, he brought me a drink because he felt bad for me, sleeping out here alone." You corrected.

        "Why are you sleeping all the way out here?" Andrea asked, shaking her head with confusion.

        "Yeah, it's really not safe. You should be up there with us." Amy added.

        "Yeah, Shane, Lori." You cocked your head to the side, crossing your arms as you looked between the two of them. "Why am I sleeping all the way out here? Hm?"

        Lori looked at you with wide, anxious eyes as Shane just shot daggers at you and Daryl. Lori looked back to everyone else, who seemed to be confused, except for Dale who had a knack for picking up on things.

        "Maybe we should head back to camp. It's getting late." Dale suggested.

        "I'm good." You rolled your eyes. "Thanks for ruining yet another peaceful moment." You said to Shane.

        "I'm confused." Andrea spoke up. 

        "Oh, allow me to clarify." You smiled, sickeningly sweet. Lori shook her head at you, but you ignored her. "Shane, my husband, and Lori, have been keeping a secret from us. Care to share with the class?"

        "(Y/N), man, come on. Why you gotta start problems?" Shane let out an exasperated sigh.

        "No? Okay, allow me to speak on your behalf, then. My husband has been fucking Lori, who, if you guys weren't aware, is married to Shane's best friend, who he claims is dead." You said.

        God, did that feel good.

        Everyone looked stunned, save for Lori who just looked humiliated and mortified, and Shane, who was more pissed than anything else.

        "Some leader, huh? A real honest guy." You added, just to add insult to injury. Salt in the open wound, if you will.

        "Oh...kay... Why don't we just.." Dale was at a loss for words.

        "Maybe (Y/N) can stay in the RV with us." Amy suggested.

        "Yeah, I think that'd be just fine." Dale agreed.

        "No need." You looked to Shane, smirking. "Daryl here has offered his tent."

        Daryl shot you a look. He had no intentions of being your pawn in some twisted revenge scheme.

        "You did?" Andrea asked.

        Daryl nodded. "Yeah, told her she could have it 'til she figures somethin' else out."

        "And you're gonna sleep... Where?" She wondered.

        "Outside." He shrugged.

        Shane scoffed and shook his head, hands rested on his hips in that police stance you had grown to hate. Your nostrils flared at him in disgust. 

----

        "Why'd ya do that?" Daryl asked.  You were all back at camp now. He was grabbing some essentials from his tent to make room for you. "Make it like it was somethin' it ain't?"

        "What do you mean? I told the truth. You offered your tent."

        "Nah, you wanted to get under his skin." He shook his head at you as you stood with your bag over your shoulder and your dusty blanket balled up in your arms.

        "I mean, yeah, but--"

        "But nothin'. I ain't gon' be part of your revenge and I damn sure ain't gonna be no rebound dick to ride 'til ya feel better." He cut you off before he stormed away.

Taglist || Masterlist

[rainbowmothed]

╰ ⋯ ➢ GOOD GIRL ; CHAGGIE SMUT...

✿ sorry not sorry for this one guys... by the way, it fades to black!! so moreso suggestive than fully smut-ty? header art by sethdomain!

Charlie blinked as she felt the hands on her shoulders, palms meeting the mattress of the bed, feeling the muzzle wrap around her face, restricting her razor sharp teeth from the world. It wasn't suffocating or hurtful by any means– in fact, the darkly-hued hands that wrapped it around her face were soft and gentle, caressing her pale face as they moved, tracing the heavy coat of blush on her face as their hands moved.

“Vaggie,” Charlie huffed out, chewing the inside of her mouth. She felt the primal urge to latch onto something rise up in her chest. Her girlfriend simply hummed in response, fastening the muzzle tightly around her face. Charlie blushed heavily, huffing under heavy breaths. It was restricting, but damn, did it feel good.

“Hold still, hon.” Vaggie replied to her whimpers coolly, pulling her hands away. The loss of contact was aggravating for Charlie, but it was soon replaced as the collar was wrapped around her neck. Vaggie tugged gently, causing Charlie to move backwards compliantly. “Is that comfortable?” Vaggie inquiried, tone sultry.

“Uh-huh.” Charlie responded breathlessly, feeling her pale skin heat up, a burning feeling rising in her chest. Vaggie smirked, placing a kiss to her temple, gently latching her teeth onto Charlie's neck for a moment, digging her sharp canines in gently. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark. That was usually Charlie's thing. She loved leaving symbols of herself on Vaggie; whether that be through a bite mark, a kiss that left her black lipstick smeared behind, or her claws raking against her girlfriend's perfect skin. It was all good to her. Charlie loved the sight of seeing the golden blood of her girlfriend dripping down her neck, dripping down her collarbone–

Charlie was snapped out of her less than appropriate thoughts with another tug on the leash, Vaggie pushing her down onto the mattress, back pressed against it as her head met the headboard. Usually, Charlie was the one in control, so this was a nice change of pace. “You're so pretty, Vaggie.” Charlie whispered, enamored by the sight of her girlfriend in all of her glory.

Vaggie smirked. “Likewise, cariño.” The denizen replied to the compliments sweetly, like she wasn't pinning Charlie down to the bed. It was amusing, actually. Her Spanish accent slipped into her words, constricting them like a snake, coiling around them and slithering their way into Vaggie's sentences. And damn, was it hot. Or at least, Charlie thought so.

Vaggie pulled the leash closer, hand traveling up to wrap around Charlie's now prominent horn, tracing it with her fingertip. “You know,” Vaggie softly began, tone low and gravelly. “I hear people talking on the street, occasionally. As we pass. They say they could make love to you better than I ever could, some lousy sinner.” Vaggie grinned, pearly whites prominent as ever. Gorgeous as ever. Every part of the fallen angel was perfect, beautiful– every compliment in the book to Charlie.

“Do you think that's true, mi cielo?” Vaggie demanded, tone more commanding, but still holding onto those faint undertones of love and comfort. Charlie shook her head, but it was difficult with how Vaggie was restraining her. Hey– she wasn't complaining. It was sexy. More than, even. “Of course not. You're better than they ever could be, Vaggie.” Charlie retorted.

“Buena niña.” Vaggie chuckled, words gravelly, coiling the leash of the collar around her index finger and pulling it slightly. She liked seeing Charlie strain and comply as she pulled on the little string. Not in the painful way– the thought of seeing Charlie in pain wasn't remotely attractive to her. It scared her, even. But just seeing her underneath her, safe, as close as possible? That was the raw appeal behind it.

Vaggie's wings rustled slightly as she felt Charlie's hand touch her thigh, scratching against her skin. “I said not to touch,” she gently reminded, slightly disappointed as her girlfriend pulled away. But that wasn't the goal right now– the goal was to make Charlie feel good. Vaggie smirked, slipping her head between Charlie's thighs in a swift movement, knee pressing against the mattress as she hooked her index fingers around the waistband of Charlie's pants…

. . .

Charlie breathed heavily as she finished, not being able to touch her girlfriend, bite, anything– driving her crazy. Completely under her mercy. Vaggie slithered back upwards, licking her lips, swiping away remnants of Charlie away from her features. The denizen unclipped the muzzle from around the princess’ face, tracing her hand across the pale skin, and circular rosy cheeks.

Vaggie leaned forward, pressing her lips to Charlie's. Charlie could feel the taste of herself on Vaggie's tongue, which was quite… interesting? Charlie arched a brow as she slithered her serpent-like tongue into her girlfriend's mouth, finally settling her hands on Vaggie's shoulders. Thankfully, she wasn't met with being pushed away.

Vaggie slowly pulled away, admittedly hesitantly, as she unhooked the leash and unclipped the leash from around her girlfriend's neck. “Did I hurt you?” Charlie laughed in response to Vaggie's sudden worries, shaking her head. “I'm fine, babe! Truly!”

Vaggie softly smiled, less heated up and mischievous than earlier. Moreso delicate and welcoming, like a loving embrace in itself. “Let's get you cleaned up, then.” Charlie nodded, pressing a quick kiss to the angel's forehead, horns and tail retreating as she cooled down, resorting back into a more humane form.

Vaggie pulled herself off the bed, willing herself off the bed as she looked down at her shoulder, suddenly aware of the bite mark. “I don't even know how you managed that in the split second that you had the muzzle off, but okay.” Charlie shrugged innocently, winking. “A magician never reveals her secrets!”

[harlowsbby]

Fading Out?

Summary, Jack misses date night and the reader gets upset.

Jack 💘

“Babe what are you doing right now? If you aren’t doing anything make sure you get ready, I’m taking you out tonight.”

That was the last message you received from Jack before you started rushing around to get ready for your mysterious little date that he’d be taking you on.

The time was around three almost four in the afternoon, you knew Jack usually left the studio around five so you quickly jumped into the shower to freshen up.

“Why are you getting all dressed up?” Your friend Jessica’s voice came through the speaker of your phone.

“Jack is taking me out tonight I’m not really exactly sure where but all he said was for me to get ready.” You told her.

“Really?! That’s so sweet.” She gushed and you smiled.

“I know! I’m so excited, we haven’t been out together in a while he’s always so busy with work and his album, it feels good to actually spend some time together.” You confessed.

With Jack being gone all day with either finishing up his album, or doing promo shoots with New Balance or just photo shoots in general, there wasn’t enough time left to actually spend time together.

So when Jack texted you saying that he was taking you out you were beyond thrilled and over the moon with excitement.

Looking at the time you noticed it was about five minutes till five. “I’ll call you later Jessica I’m going to call Jack right now.” You told her. “Okay, have fun tonight.”

After the two of you hung up you went ahead and decided to call Jack to see where he was at. When he didn’t answer you looked down at your phone with a frown on your face.

“That’s weird.” You mumbled to yourself, usually whenever you’d call Jack he’d answer right away but you figured he was driving so you decided to text him.

Jack 💘

- I’m ready! Let me know when you’re outside!

You smiled and put your phone down and fixed your lipstick and looked yourself over one last time. It was now five thirty and still no sign of Jack.

Nemo’s house wasn’t far from Jack’s house it was about ten minutes down the street so you weren’t understanding why he still wasn’t home.

You decided to call Urban to see if he at least knew where Jack was. “Pick up.” You mumbled as you started to shake your leg, it was a habit you tended to do whenever you were nervous.

“Hello?” Urban’s voice came through the speaker. “Urban!” You yelled and he winched, not expecting for you to be yelling.

“Yes Y/N? Why are we yelling?” He laughed and took a step outside to hear you better. “Have you seen Jack? Or heard from him recently?” You asked Urban.

“Jack? Yeah he’s in the house with us.” Your eyebrows furrowed together. “Us? Who is us?” You asked him.

“Like Nemo, Ace, a few girls but don’t worry Jack isn’t cheating.” He laughed. “Oh okay well when you see him again can you let him know I said thanks for tonight.” You mumbled into the phone.

“Uh yeah sure I got you.” Urban asked he wasn’t quite sure why you wanted him to say that but he wasn’t about to question or get in the middle of anything.

You hung up the phone and went ahead and got unready. Deep down you had a feeling tonight wasn’t going to happen but you decided to be hopeful.

Just as you were about to turn off all of the lights downstairs and head upstairs to bed Jack came through the door with an apologetic look on his face.

“Baby, shit I’m so sorry I was about to leave Nemo’s house to come get you so we can go out but I got sidetracked by Ace and-.” He kept ranting and ranting and you were honestly sick and tired of hearing him.

“It’s okay.” You said with a tight lip smile. “Really it’s fine I should’ve known better than to give my hopes up, my fault.” You smiled at him and made your way upstairs.

“What?” Jack watched you as you walked passed him and upstairs to your shared room. He expected for you to yell at him or do something but you not doing anything made him even more worried.

“Babe? Are you good? Are we good?” He asked and watched how you laid yourself under the covers and sat up against the headboard.

“We’re perfect.” You sarcastically stated. “I feel like you’re lying.” He nervously laughed.

“Of course I’m lying Jack can’t you tell.” You spat and suddenly you were no longer leaning back you were now up and ready to discuss this.

“Okay so what’s wrong? Talk to me.” He said and sat next to you and went to grab your hands but you pulled your hands back.

“You should know that the problem is we haven’t spent anytime together !” You yelled your hands flying up in frustration.

“I thought you understood that I needed to get this album done? Once I finish the album then I’m all yours.” You scoffed.

“You don’t get it.” You chuckled dryly. “Why do I have to wait till your fucking album is finished to spend time with you!” You yelled.

You hated yelling it was one of your least favorite things to do but you wanted to get your point across to him.

“Are you being serious right now? You’re acting really selfish Y/N.” He spoke. “You know what if you don’t or can’t understand my lifestyle and understand that I won’t be available to run to your every beck and call.” He sighed heavily.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be together Y/N.” He stated.

Your heart shattered at his words the last thing you wanted to do was to break up with Jack. “That’s how you feel?” You croaked out.

“Then fine we’re over.” Jack watched you with sadden eyes as you made your way out the room.

That night you slept alone in the spare bedroom you just needed time to think and time for yourself to try and see what you were going to do now.

Eventually you ended up falling asleep and waking up the following morning to spell of bacon, sausage and eggs being made downstairs.

You tied your robe against you and crossed your arms over your chest as your made your way into the kitchen. When you finally came into view you saw Jack sweating away at the stove.

“Good morning.” He smiled when he saw you and handed you a plate.

“Thank you.” You mumbled and sat at the table Jack frowned usually you’d be running into his arms or giving him a kiss.

The two of you sat and sat in silence you both tended to be a bit stubborn at times. Jack watched with sorrow filled eyes as you twirled around the eggs and nibbled on a piece of bacon.

“Y/N, baby I’m sorry I don’t want to break up with you.” He told you. “So why did you say that last night? All I want is to spend time with you but I didn’t realize I had to schedule an appointment.”

Jack chuckled. “You still got your humor.” You shot him a glare. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding but I am really sorry baby please will you forgive me?” He frowned.

“I’ll forgive you under one condition.” You smirked. “What is it?”

————————————————————————

“I really hate touching feet babe and you know this.” Jack groaned as he started to rub and massage your feet.

“So? What does that have to do with me you said that you’d give me a massage.” You stated and took a sip of your wine.

“I know, I know but still.” He grumbled. “But still nothing get to massaging because I’m getting a bit hungry.” You laughed as he groaned again but nonetheless he continued to rub your feet.

You leaned back into the couch and noticed Jack’s phone was ringing. “Druski is calling you want me to answer.”

“Yeah answer it.” He said. “Jack! Where you at man the game starts in a few minutes Urban and me just got here.”

Jack was meant to be going to a football game with Urban and Druski today but he was going to be busy making up for how he acted last night.

“Sorry Druski but he can’t come he’s a bit busy.” You flipped the camera and showed Jack who was sitting on the floor criss cross, applesauce style and painting your toes.

“Man.” Druski’s head went back in laughter. “You’re such a simp! I’ll catch you later.” Druski laughed one last night before hanging up.

“This is no fun.” Jack grumbled. “It’s fun for me and that’s all that matters and make sure my nail polish isn’t all crooked.” He smacked his teeth.

“Okay baby.” You smiled. “I love you though.” He smiled as well. “I love you too babe.”

(I tried writing this a few times but idk I still don’t like it but I hope you guys do 😭)

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

No Control* // Chad Meeks Martin x Reader x Ethan Landry

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: things are awkward after your boyfriend, chad, walked in on you with his best friend, ethan. you’re terrified that you’ve ruined everything, but chad has other ideas.

warnings: language, smut, threesome, switch!chad, switch!reader, switch!ethan, use of the pet name “good boy” once, p in v, masturbation, hand job, being caught the morning after

word count: 3.3k

a/n: reader has female anatomy, but gender neutral pronouns are used. also im relatively new to writing smut, so apologies of its not the best!

part one part two

Stained coffee cup

Just a fingerprint of lipstick's not enough

Sweet, where you lay

Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case

Chad sat up straight on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. His mind racing with the image of you and Ethan together. His girlfriend and his best friend. He should be furious. Right? So why wasn’t he? Maybe he was a little sad, the thought that you don’t love him anymore staying in the back of his mind. But he knew you better than that. You loved him. You still do. Things were perfect between the two of you, there was no way you suddenly got tired of him overnight.

Realistically? Chad figured that you somehow found out about Ethan’s little crush on you, which he wasn’t that good at hiding, and that you had reciprocated the feelings. You had somehow found yourself falling in love with someone else, while still loving Chad all the same. And Chad couldn’t even blame you. After all, it was Ethan. Chad would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about his roommate in that way more than a few times. 

Still, he wished you had just talked to him about all this. Everything would’ve been so much easier. But he knew why you didn’t. You felt like you were betraying him. And in a way, you had. You went behind his back and slept with someone else. But if he was being honest with himself, had he been in the same situation with Ethan, he probably would’ve done the same exact thing you had. 

Waking up beside you, I'm a loaded gun

I can't contain this anymore

I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control

“Chad? You here?” Ethan asked, shutting the door to their dorm behind him as he walked inside. 

Chad’s head perked up slightly at the sound of Ethan’s voice, but he didn’t make a move to respond. He heard footsteps coming closer, and then the door to his bedroom slowly creaked open. Ethan poked his head in, and Chad turned to face him.

“Hey,” Ethan said, tugging awkwardly at the collar of his shirt. 

“Hi,” Chad replied, not quite meeting Ethan’s eyes.

After waiting a few moments, Ethan realized Chad wasn’t going to speak again, so he took that as permission to enter the room. Ethan walked over and sat down next to Chad on his bed. Chad went back to staring at the wall, and Ethan looked over at Chad nervously.

“Look man, I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am. I never should’ve-”

“Do you love them?” Chad asked, cutting Ethan off.

“What…?” Ethan asked, taken aback by the question. 

Chad finally turned his head to look at Ethan, and he repeated the question.

“Do you love them?”

After a pause, Ethan nodded. “Well, uhm, yeah. I- I think I do. No, I- I definitely do. I love them.”

Chad hummed in response, looking away again. The tension between the two of them was palpable, but it wasn’t for the reason that Ethan assumed it was.

“Do you love me?” Chad asked, too nervous to take his gaze off the floor.

“Huh?” Ethan replied, almost sounding confused by the question.

“You heard me. Do you?”

“Well, I mean of course I do. You’re my best friend,” Ethan answered, not sure what to make of the question.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Chad said, his voice shaking. He finally forced himself to face Ethan. 

“Oh. OH,” Ethan said, the true meaning of Chad’s question finally clicking in his head. “Uhm, yeah. I- I do.”

The look of pure terror slowly faded from Chad’s face. “Why did you never say anything?”

“Well, you were with y/n. And- well I’ve never felt like this for a guy before, I didn’t know what to make of it. I guess I was just… scared.” Ethan’s cheeks turned pink as he met Chad’s eyes. “Wait, does that mean you feel the same way?”

“Does this answer your question?”

Chad leaned in and kissed him, his hand resting on the side of Ethan’s face. Ethan’s eyes widened, and he froze, his brain short-circuiting by the sudden affection. Once his mind caught up with his body, he started to kiss Chad back. They both felt dizzy, months of unspoken feelings all pouring out within a few moments. It felt magical. And even more than that, it felt right.

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

You laid on your bed, staring up at your ceiling, tears staining your face. Your roommate, Anika, was out on a date with Mindy, so you didn’t even bother trying to keep quiet as you sobbed. You ruined things with Chad, and consequently, you might’ve ruined things with Ethan as well. You felt like you were living in hell, and the worst part was that it was a hell of your own making. Why couldn’t you have just been honest? Or better yet, you should’ve just made a decision. 

But even attempting to do that would’ve been pointless, and you knew that. You wouldn’t be able to choose. You loved Chad, and over the course of your blossoming relationship with Ethan, you felt yourself beginning to fall in love with him too. You couldn’t choose because you loved them both. You didn’t have a favorite, or a preference. You wanted them both. But realistically, that wasn’t going to be possible. 

You felt yourself finally beginning to drift off to the blissful relief of sleep, when a loud knocking at your front door jolted you awake. Groaning, you forced yourself out of bed. It was probably just Anika, who somehow always forgot her keys. You trudged over to the door and pulled it open, preparing to poke fun at your roommate for her forgetfulness, when you saw Chad and Ethan standing outside your door. 

“Oh, uhm. Hi?” you said, inwardly cringing at how awkward you sounded.

“Can we come in? We need to talk to you,” Chad said, Ethan nodding in agreement.

You felt your stomach twisting in knots as you nodded and moved aside to let them in. They were probably here to tell you that they both wanted to break it off with you. That you were selfish and disgusting, and that they wanted to move on and find someone better than you. But when you looked back up at their faces, neither of them seemed upset. In fact, they almost seemed… giddy? That was the only word you could think of to describe it. And that just confused you even more.

They walked inside, and you shut the door behind them. Chad walked into your open bedroom, with Ethan following right behind him. You went in after them, sitting down on your bed, feeling a slight bit confused as they did the same. 

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Taste on my tongue

I don't want to wash away the night before

In the heat, where you lay 

I could stay right here and burn in it all day

“Do you still love me?” Chad asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You scrunched your eyebrows up in confusion, nodding anyway. “Of course I do. Did you really have to ask me that?”

“What about me?” Ethan asked, turning your attention towards him.

You nodded again, not quite following. “Uh, yeah. I do.”

Ethan smiled, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight. How had it taken you so long to realize how breathtakingly gorgeous he was?

“So, we have something to ask you,” Chad said.

“Which is?” you replied, feeling more confused as time went on. It didn’t seem like either of them were dumping you. So what was going on?

“Would you be interested in being with both of us? Like officially?” Chad asked.

Your eyes widened in shock. He wasn’t being serious, right? He looked so upset when he caught you with Ethan a few hours ago. Why was he suddenly in support of it?

“Are you serious? You would be okay with that?”

“Well, yeah,” Chad answered.

“It wouldn’t be like you just dating the both of us. It would be all three of us, together,” Ethan chimed in.

The puzzle pieces clicked in your head. Finally, you understood what was going on. Not only did they both want you, but they also wanted each other. That’s why Chad wasn’t angry when he saw you and Ethan together. That weird expression on his face finally made sense. He thought it was hot. You felt all your nerves disappear, and a smile grew on your face.

You turned to Chad. “You liar! I knew you had feelings for Ethan! You’re not as discreet as you think.”

Ethan laughed, a smile on his face. “Wait, you knew he liked me?”

“Are you kidding? That one time we all went to the beach, he almost choked on his smoothie when you took your shirt off!”

Chad smiled awkwardly, feeling slightly embarrassed by the current conversation. “Okay, okay. We don’t need to talk about all of that…”

“Oh, but I think we do,” you smiled mischievously.

Chad waved dismissively, trying to change the subject. “You still never gave us an answer. Do you-”

You cut him off, “Yes, obviously!”

Waking up beside you, I'm a loaded gun

I can't contain this anymore

I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control

“Oh my god!”

You groaned slightly, being stirred from your sleep by the sound of shouting coming from somewhere near your bedroom door. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and your sight came into focus. Anika and Mindy were standing on the other side of your open door, wide eyed.

“My eyes!” Mindy shouted, her hands flying up to shield her face. 

“Mindy, grow up,” Anika said, laughing softly at her girlfriend’s theatrics.

Why were they freaking out? What’s going on? Oh. That was why. Chad and Ethan were asleep on either side of you, all of your clothes scattered across your bedroom floor. The only thing protecting your decency was the comforter pulled over the three of you. But it wasn’t very hard to figure out what happened. Which judging by their reactions, Anika and Mindy already had.

“What’s all the yelling about?” Chad mumbled, slowly waking up.

He looked around, his eyes meeting Mindy, and he dove under the blanket instantly in a panic. You giggled as you watched Chad freak out, finding his panic to be quite hilarious. 

“So, when did this happen?” Anika asked, a teasing smile on her face.

You shrugged, feeling quite awkward about being caught in this position. “Uh… last night?”

“Is it safe to look now?” Mindy asked, her hands still over her eyes.

“Chad’s hiding under the blanket if that’s what you’re worried about,” you replied, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

Slowly, Mindy lowered her hands, feeling less nauseated once Chad was out of view. “I know you and my brother are together, but I never want to have to deal with that image ever again.”

“Wait, so was this like a hookup, or…?” Anika asked, still very invested in this whole situation.

“No. We’re together. Like, all of us,” you replied, smiling awkwardly.

“Can we please finish this conversation after we have our clothes back on?” Chad asked, his voice muffled by the blanket over his head.

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

You, Chad, and Ethan have been together for almost a month now. Everything was perfect. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and more. You had two boyfriends, who you loved unconditionally, and who felt the same about you. Sure, there were still some issues, but every relationship has them. But getting to be with both of them was worth any problem that came your way.

Soon, Anika moved out of your shared apartment to live with Mindy, and your boyfriends moved in. It took a while to get your living situation sorted out, but soon it felt perfect. Everything was so domestic. You had never felt happier, and Chad and Ethan felt the same way. Having two boyfriends just made your life more exciting. You couldn’t even begin to describe all of the feelings this relationship gave you. And your sex life got a hell of a lot more exciting too.

Lost my senses, I'm defenseless

Her perfume's holding me ransom

Sweet and sour, heart devoured

Lying here, I count the hours

“What is it? What do you want, baby?” you asked Ethan, gripping his jaw tightly to keep his eyes trained on you. 

Ethan whined and reached out towards you, only for Chad to slap his hand away.

“Use your words baby. How are we supposed to give you what you want if you don’t tell us?” Chad said, his tone condescending.

“I- I want you to touch me. Please, touch me,” Ethan begged, desperation in his voice.

“What do you think Chad? Has he been good enough?” 

“I think so baby. He’s always such a good boy for us. Isn’t that right, Ethan?”

Ethan nodded eagerly, or nodded as best as he could, your hand still gripping his jaw tightly.

“Alright then. How do you want us to touch you baby…?” you let go of Ethan’s jaw, your hand sliding down his bare chest instead.

“I- I don’t care. However you want. Just touch me please,” Ethan whimpered, sounding even more desperate for anything you and Chad decided to give him.

You lightly pushed on Ethan’s shoulders, making him lie down on your bed. You moved to straddle his boxer-clad waist, eliciting a soft moan from Ethan at the small bit of friction. You were dressed in nothing but your bra and panties, a lilac set that Ethan gifted you. The sight of you in it always made his head spin.

Chad kneeled beside you, resting back on his heels. He palmed himself through his boxers, sighing in relief at the feeling. You looked over at Chad, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

Chad sighed, “No.”

“You know you’re not allowed to unless I give you permission.”

“I- I know,” he said, looking a bit upset at having been caught.

Waking up, beside you I'm a loaded gun

I can't contain this anymore

I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control

You went to say something else, when Ethan flipped you over, straddling your hips and keeping you pinned to the bed. Chad raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He shifted closer to the two of you, intrigued by the change in the situation.

“Whatcha doing baby?” you asked, looking up at Ethan, seeming completely unfazed. Almost as if you had expected this.

Ethan smiled down at you. “You were taking too long. Need you too bad to wait. I think Chad can agree with me on that.”

“Oh, definitely,” Chad said, moving to kneel by your head.

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” you taunted, knowing full well what they intended to do. 

“We’re just gonna take what we want,” Ethan said, leaning down to kiss you.

You kissed him back, your hands getting tangled in his hair. You tugged lightly, causing him to whimper. You smirked against his lips, before biting down on his bottom lip. Just hard enough to hurt, without causing any damage. Chad whined slightly, causing you and Ethan to let out a laugh at his neediness.

“Aww, you want some attention too baby?” you asked, sitting up slightly, pulling Chad into a kiss.

He kissed you hungrily, seeming utterly desperate for your touch. You felt Chad being pulled off of you, and you were confused for a moment, until you saw Ethan pull Chad in to meet his lips. You grinned up at the sight, watching your boyfriends make out above you. You could never get over how hot they were, especially when they were together. 

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

“Fuck! Just like that baby. You’re doing so good,” Ethan said as he pounded into you mercilessly. 

You moaned and babbled unintelligibly, your ability to form words long gone from the immense pleasure you were feeling. Ethan had your legs up over his shoulders, his thumb working intently on your clit, as he pistoned in and out of your dripping heat. Chad kneeled above you, jerking himself off above your face, his precum dripping down to coat your lips. 

You were a mess, falling apart at their hands. You reached out to Chad, pushing his hand away and replacing it with your own. He let out a strangled moan, his hips bucking forward into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking good at that,” Chad said, breathless and dizzy with pleasure.

“They’re absolute heaven,” Ethan added, his hips stuttering as he spilled his load into the condom. 

You whined at the feeling, speeding up your hand on Chad’s throbbing cock. Ethan sped up his movements on your clit, throwing you over the edge as you came with a cry. Chad followed soon after, his cum painting your face. You let your hand fall, utterly exhausted and out of breath.

Ethan pulled out, causing you to wince slightly from the sensitivity. He pulled the condom off and tied it, tossing it in the trash can. You were still out of it, mind floating in a state of pure bliss. Chad smiled down at you, in awe of your beauty. Ethan returned before you even realized he had left, a warm cloth in his hand which he used to clean you off. 

You felt yourself slowly come back to reality when you felt yourself being tucked into bed between your boyfriends, new sheets on the bed, and a comfy pair of pajamas on your body. 

No control

No control

You rolled over to face Ethan, an annoyed (but not really) smile on your face. “You asshole! I was supposed to be in charge tonight!” 

You shoved his shoulder playfully, trying to appear angry. But he could see right through you. He simply smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Sorry baby. You just looked so good I couldn’t resist. You’ll be in charge next time, I promise. Absolutely no overthrowing.”

He laughed softly at the pout on your face. You both knew you weren’t really upset, with the way he had just made you feel that would be impossible. Still, you felt like keeping up this act for a little longer. You flipped over to face Chad.

“And you! You just went along with it! What, do I just not get any respect around here?”

Chad smiled, kissing your cheek. “Oh come on. You were practically asking for it. You know how impatient Ethan gets. He can only take so much of your teasing before he snaps and flips you over.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. You turned to lay on your back, Chad and Ethan cuddling up to you. You were always the big spoon, even when you weren’t in charge during your little excursions. You held them close, the warm blanket enveloping the three of you. You smiled to yourself, overwhelmed with happiness and love for your boyfriends. Slowly, you drifted off to sleep, excited to wake up and start the next day with the loves of your life. 

Powerless, and I don't care it's obvious

I just can't get enough of you

The pedal's down, my eyes are closed, no control

tags: @wenvierismycomfort @hyeyulove @afro-hispwriter

if your user is crossed out, it means i can't tag you!

[babydollmarauders]

HITS DIFFERENT— JACK HUGHES

final part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Jack were in a relationship for 4 years before deciding to go separate ways, but everything reminds her of him and y/n realizes she’s made a mistake by letting him go.

specific lyrics: “i washed my hands of us at the club, you made a mess of me. i pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street.” and “they say that if it's right, you know. each bar plays our song, nothing has ever felt so wrong.” and “i find the artifacts, cried over a hat, cursed the space that i needed. i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleedin'. you were the one that i loved.” and “i heard your key turn in the door down the hallway. is that your key in the door? is it okay? is it you?” and “i never don't cry at the bar. yeah, my sadness is contagious. i slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car.” and “love is a lie; shit my friends say to get me by.”

notes: i don't know how i feel about this one. i feel like i could've potentially done better, but anyways MIDNIGHTS FIC LIST IS OFFICIALLY DONE! it's a month later than i had originally wanted to finish it, but it's finally done!

the reflection staring back at me is a bit of a hot mess. mascara smudged, hair tousled, lipstick fading. i stare in the mirror until i feel the sting of the hot water on my hands, pulling them back with a hiss of pain. the alcohol running through my veins helps me avoid overthinking about this dingy club bathroom, my shoes sticking to the floor with every step. but the buzz does nothing to help with the thoughts that run through my mind when i hear the song that’s blasting from the speakers throughout the club.

“y/n/n, you good?” my head snaps over to Marie, her upper body peeking in through the bathroom door. one look at me makes her sigh. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“it’s our song.” i explain, as though she hasn’t heard the same excuse at every other bar we’ve been to in the past six months.

“i know it is, hun.” she gives me a pitiful smile, fully entering the grimy bathroom in order to grab my hand.

“it just feels so wrong hearing it without him.” tears well up in my eyes, my heart hurting just a little extra.

“let’s go get you another drink.” i give a numb nod in response, letting her lead me to our other friends that sit in a booth by the bar. at the sight of my state, they both give each other an unspoken glance before giving me a look of pity.

“i ordered you another tequila sunrise.” Beth tells me, sliding the drink towards me. i drop into the booth, muttering a short ‘thanks’ before gulping at the drink.

“lay it on us, babe. what’s on your mind tonight?” Lisa pipes up, sipping at her own drink and raising a brow at me.

“i just— they say that if it’s right, you know. and i thought we were right. but, it makes no sense because why didn’t i know until we broke up? i mean, i knew. obviously i knew, i followed him here from Michigan. but, i didn’t know know until we separated, ya know?”

“i’m gonna be honest, i only understood maybe half of what you just said.” Lisa says, making Beth and Marie giggle. “but love is a lie, y/n/n. sure, you can like someone enough to be with them for a long time, but romantic love? complete bullshit. it doesn’t exist. this isn’t the movies.”

“she’s right. and the quicker you realize that, the quicker you’ll get over him.” Marie nods, pointing at Lisa as she speaks while Beth hums in agreement.

“i don’t know if i’ll ever get over him. i love him. i miss him.” i whine. “i want him back. i don’t wanna be here. i want Jack.”

“alright, maybe it’s time we get you back home.” Beth sighs, tapping her thumbs on her phone. ordering an uber, i assume.

“i don’t wanna go home. i wanna see Jack.”

“you can’t see Jack, y/n. you’re drunk, and you guys broke up.” Marie pats my shoulder, helping me out of the booth and out of the club, the other two girls following behind us.

i continue mumbling to myself, my words slurred, and i’m eighty percent sure that the only actual audible word was my ex’s name.

“c’mon, hun. watch your head.” Lisa coos, helping me into the uber. “we’ll see you on tuesday, babe. get some sleep.”

Marie and Beth call out some goodbyes before Lisa shuts the car door, she motions for the guy up front to lower his window, whispering something to him before he starts off towards my house.

“would it be too late to ask to change the drop off location?” i ask him, anxiously playing with the strap of my purse as i speak.

“i’m sorry, ma’am. your friend just told me you might ask that. she said i’m under strict orders to take you straight to the predetermined destination.” i heave out a deep breath, slumping back into the seat of the car.

it doesn’t take too long to get to my apartment complex, muttering a ‘thank you’ to the man before sliding out of the vehicle and making my way up to my apartment. as soon as i make it into the apartment, i bee-line for my bedroom, stripping out of my club outfit and changing into some leggings and a tank top. i wipe off my makeup and throw my hair up before entering my closet. my sights set on the old USA Hockey sweatshirt on my shelf, i hop up, reaching for the article of clothing. however, as soon as i pull it down, something else comes tumbling down with it, falling to the floor in front of me.

slipping the sweatshirt on, i bend down to pick up the fallen item. holding it, tears prick the backs of my eyes as i realize what it is, Jack’s hat. his New York Yankees hat to be exact. my heart aches remembering the times he wore it. our Yankees game, date nights, even just lounging around the house. clutching the hat to my chest, i sink to the floor, sitting criss cross as i cry.

space. why did i think i needed space? i got plenty of space when he was always gone for roadies. fuck space. i just want him. my fingers trace the Yankees symbol, my tears falling down onto the dark blue fabric. why does it still hurt so bad? it’s been six months.

i know it may not help that i’m still in the same apartment we shared. every piece of this home reminds me of him. but it’s been much too hard to move. i tried looking at other apartments, but nothing felt as right as this one. i’m not ready to give up the last piece i have of the one i love.

too busy crying on the closet floor, i barely hear the lock on the front door turning. my head snaps up at the sound, trying to remember which of my friends have spare keys. Marie, Beth, and Lisa are the only ones, but i just left them. that only leaves two other options, Quinn or Jack. but, that i’m aware of, Quinn is still in Vancouver. i know he doesn’t have another game in New Jersey until next month. which only leaves Jack. i try not to get my hopes up, but i can’t help but wonder if it’s him, if he’s come back. the chances are slim. it’s been six months, why would he come back now?

i come to the decision that it’s probably Marie checking up on me. probably worried about the way i was when we parted not that long ago. it wouldn’t be the first time she’s checked on me.

footsteps thump against the wooden floors, getting closer to the bedroom, and i huddle further into the closet, hoping Marie will just leave me alone. tears still stream down my face as i clutch the hat closer to my chest, letting out silent sobs.

“y/n?”

that’s not Marie.

too exhausted, i opt out of leaving the closet, not even able to get myself to speak without being racked with sobs. i sniffle as i hear him pass the closet, the footsteps stop for a moment before i hear them start again, getting closer to the cracked open closet door. i don’t bother looking, fully believing that at this point i’m a mix of drunk and sleep deprived, just hearing things that aren’t there. i wipe at my eyes but the tears keep coming. i shift to bring my knees to my chest, the hat now gripped in my hands in front of me.

“oh, baby.” i hear from behind me before a body drops down beside me on the floor, pulling me into them. his cologne fills my senses, my face buried into his chest. the scent fills me with melancholy, memories of when he used to hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. comforting me. making me feel at home within his arms.

“it’s okay.” as if i summoned the whispers with my thoughts, his breath fans across my ear. “i’m here. i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

his reassurances calm me just slightly, but the real help is when he splays a hand along my chest, taking deep breaths. muscle memory takes over as i mimic his breathing.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once i’ve finally calmed enough to speak. i wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, finally looking up into the blue eyes that peer down at me.

“Beth called me.” he whispers.

“she did?”

“yeah. she told me you’re not doing okay.” he confesses. “she didn’t tell me much more than that. just that she’d really appreciate if i checked on you.”

“you came over here in the middle of the night just to check on me?” i question. “you have a game tomorrow. you should be sleeping.”

“you’re a lot more important than a game.” his hand moves from my chest to cup my jaw. “i told you i would always be here for you, y/n. i meant it.”

“but, we broke up. i didn’t think you cared anymore.” a lone tear drops from my right eye as i speak.

“i’ll always care about you. i don’t think i can ever stop. i love you, y/n/n. and i know you said you wanted space, and i respected that, but i told you when we broke up that i would be here when you decided you were ready.” he pauses, his eyes scanning my face before he continues speaking. “and now i really hope you’re ready because these past few months have been hell without you.”

“i made a mistake. i don’t want space. i want you. you’re the only thing i’ve wanted since i was seventeen.” my voice is barely above a whisper, scared for his response.

“you have me. i’m right here.” his eyes jump between my own and my lips three times before he leans down. i meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a slow kiss. gentle passion and love radiates between us, his hands cupping my face as mine grip the nape of his neck as if he'll disappear from my hold.

pulling away, his forehead leans against mine. my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the smile gracing his lips. a smile of my own spread across my face and i crane my neck to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"i missed you so much." i admit. "moving on from boys in high school was so easy, but the heartbreak hit different this time."

"that's how you know it's real. we're real. there's no moving on from us." he tells me. "at least, not for me."

he pulls me in tighter against him, crashing his lips against mine once more, and i feel content again, my life being fixed with such a simple motion.