#the same lighter you carry is the same that lit your cigarette that night. it's one of the few things in your inventory that isn't dungeon

[autixel]

DCC OC that calls the viewers "chat"

[thatdesigirl17]

late night talking

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

part 2 is out

warnings: smoking, out of character mattheo maybe, language, reader has family issues (slight)

just finished deadly class now that my finals are over and I'm absolutely obsessed with benjamin, so had to write for mattheo.

there will be a part 2 to this. requests are open. hope you like it.

Y/N hurried up the stairs of the astronomy tower. It had been a very stressful day with firstly her being late for class due to an assignment that she had completed after staying up almost the entire night. Still, she had forgotten it in her dorm which made her lose her marks as well as house points which led to her housemates getting annoyed with her. To top it off, she had just received a letter from her mother which made things worse. She had been requested to come home, to a place which didn’t feel like one. Ever since her father's death, the relationship between Y/N and her mother had been fractured. She felt like an outsider in her own family and preferred to stay at Hogwarts with her friends, who made her feel more at home. The request to go home and face whatever shit her mother was about to throw on her, annoyed her further. 

All she wanted was to have a temporary escape from the day and the answer for her was to smoke a joint and get high. Unluckily for her, the stash that she owned had just finished leaving her to make do with cigarettes. 

She reached the top of the astronomy tower, the cold air of the night welcoming her. She fished out her cigarette from the pocket of her jacket. She searched for the lighter in her pockets, she sighed, not being able to find it. She then searched for her wand, trying every pocket of her clothes. ‘Fucking hell! Just what I needed!’, she mumbled under her breath frustrated, she had forgotten her lighter and her wand in her dorm.

She turned around to the sound of footsteps shuffling. She walked to the other side of the tower and discovered a figure in the dark. With the help of the moonlight, she could make out his frame and the dark curls that graced his head. She noticed the smoke that surrounded him and decided to approach him for help, ‘Hey? Do you happen to have a lighter?’ 

The figure blew out smoke as he slowly turned to face her and reveal himself. Mattheo Riddle, a Slytherin in the same batch. Y/N was slightly taken aback, she had never really seen Riddle without any of his friends. He was always surrounded by people and his reputation preceded him.

‘Don’t you have your wand?’, he questioned as he reached into his pocket and handed out a lighter to her. ‘Forgot it in my dorm.’, she explained as she quickly took the lighter from his hand and lit up her cigarette. She sighed taking in a drag, her stress relieving slowly as she leaned against the railing, placing the lighter on the edge of the railing. 

‘Out so late in the night without a wand, how very careless of you.’, Mattheo remarked taking another drag. ‘Well I wasn’t exactly expecting to run into Mattheo Riddle in the middle of the night.’, she said, making Mattheo chuckle. Y/N was shocked, she had managed to make the cold, brooding Slytherin chuckle, and not in a mocking way. 

‘What’s that supposed to mean? Do you carry your wand around me? Cause I’m the Dark Lord’s son?’, he asked, in an almost teasing way. Y/N stiffened, she didn’t mean it like that, ‘No, I-, I didn’t mean it like that.’ 

‘It’s alright. I’m accustomed to it by now. It’s what everyone does.’, he said smirking. Y/N turned to face him. His soft features were highlighted in the moonlight, his eyes were red, and he was high from the joint he had been smoking. Y/N was caught off guard by the vulnerability and truth in his eyes, his voice laced with the slightest bit of hurt. 

‘I just meant you’re always surrounded by your friends. I don’t think I’ve hardly seen you alone.’, she explained, taking a drag. ‘Friends?’, he said, his tone showing the disgust he felt for the word, ‘That’s what you think they are?’ 

She nods slowly, ‘Aren’t they? You always hang around with them. You laugh and joke around with them.’ ‘Oh, love, if only. They’re just fulfilling their families’ wishes. They’re not friends, they are just people who are made to stay around me to gain certain, well, um…benefits for their families.’, he explains, leaning back on the railing as he looks at her. 

‘That must suck. Having people around only because they want something in return.’, she says, tossing her cigarette butt on the floor. ‘You get used to it.’, he says, shrugging, brushing it off. ‘What brings you out here to smoke in the middle of the night?’, he asks, changing the topic. ‘Had a bad day, got terrible news, wanted to not feel anything for a while but with my luck I had just run out of anything strong so here I am smoking a cigarette.’, she explains. ‘Here.’, Mattheo says as he hands out a joint to her. ‘Do you even know me? Or are you just that high?’, I chuckle. ‘I know we have a few classes together and it seems you don’t care for my reputation, that’s enough.’, he explains. I nod slowly as I take the joint and light it. I sit down on the floor of the tower, crossing my legs as I let the smoke out, looking up at the sky. I see Mattheo looking down and smirking at me. ‘What?’, I ask. ‘Nothing.’, he shrugs. 

I hum as I take another drag, feeling the drug taking its effect. ‘What’s it like?’, I ask, looking up at him. ‘What’s what like?’, he questions. ‘Being who you are.’, I say as I hand out the joint to him. He huffs, sitting down right across from me, our knees touching as he takes the joint from my hand and smokes. ‘Terrible.’, he answers. ‘Money, power and influence doesn’t cut it out, huh?’, she remarks, taking the joint from his hands. He scoffs and chuckles, another genuine chuckle. ‘You’re high. By tomorrow, you’re gonna regret talking to me like that.’, he smirks. ‘No, I won’t. I thought you’d have been asked this question thousands of times.’, she explains, as she tucks her knees to her chest, resting her chin on top of it, looking earnestly at the boy in front of her, who was the complete opposite of what she’d imagined him to be. 

‘No one’s ever talked to me like that. Maybe they’re scared, or maybe they just don’t care. Times like that I yearn for the normal things in life.’, he says, looking up at the sky. ‘God, why am I even telling you this? I’ve never talked to anyone like this before.’ 

‘How would I know? You’ve never even said so much as a hey to me before this.’, Y/N says jokingly, sitting up a bit straighter. ‘Huh.’, he huffs, smirking, in a teasing tone, he continues, ‘Well I guess it’s never too late. Hey Y/N.’

‘Hey Mattheo.’, she chuckles, rolling her eyes. 

They sit for a few moments in silence, comfortable in each other's presence. ‘Do you come here often?’, he asks. ‘Only when I need to clear my mind.’, she answers, ‘There are only a few places in this castle with peace and quiet.’ 

He hums in agreement, nodding slowly, ‘This feels nice.’ She smiles softly, ‘Hanging out with friends always does.’ 

‘Friends?’, he asks, his brows furrowed and his eyes widened. ‘Yeah, friends. I’m honoured to be your first real friend, Mattheo.’, she grins and for the first time, Y/N sees him smile. His brown eyes sparkle and he looks breathtaking. That’s when Y/N realises how truly beautiful Mattheo Riddle is. 

They sit together in silence again before he gets up, ‘I should go. I hope to see you around Y/N. Goodnight.’ 

‘Goodnight, Mattheo.’, she smiles up at him. Her eyes trail behind his retreating figure as she sighs. Her mind was processing and wondering how I was in the world did she just manage to befriend Mattheo Riddle? 

Maybe it’s just because he was high and alone. It was just a one-time coincidence. She thought as she sighed and got up, ready to leave. The shining metal on the railing caught her eye. She picked it up and caressed the initial M.R. engraved on the lighter. Maybe they were meant to meet again.

[simp-ly-writes]

Gentle-Fellow's

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You, Spencer and your fellow cast mates Angela and Shayne all star in yet another Don't Win Mario Party, Gentlemen addition!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, part social media au, use of dated terms as comedy, swearing, smoking, fluff, attempt at humour, cute.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,463

─ · · A/N: thank you so much for the ask, anon! sorry it took so long, had to brainstorm some jokes and scenarios but it was a load of fun! 😄

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"Oi! 'ello Chaps, I'm here with my fellow gentle-lads and t'day we'll be playing some good old fashion mario party, just how I like my liquor-" you began to intro to the camera before Spencer was slapping you gently on the shoulder, his body acting out more impact than you actually received but you still fell off the couch for comedic benefit as he put his shoes up on your supposed 'corpse' in good taste.

"Well enough with what that fellow was going on about, I must say we shall play. This game is better suited for a trio rather than a quartet- the same philosophy can also be said for working in the navy. Was much better to night-watch with a trio-"

"Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount. I have yet to try four but it sounds you would not recommend?" Shayne leans forwards on the couch to fully face Spencer who adjusts his tophat while looking down at you, silently asking if you were okay while laying down off camera. You shot him a smile upwards, rolling over and returning back to the couch.

"Yes, I would not recommend such activities. Too many men with not enough places to go and scope out. Much better to have three, did you not serve to learn this?" Spencer asks with a tilt to his head, his top hat already falling off again as you hold back a chuckle to his playful glare in your direction.

"I in fact did serve! I was a leader, and I good one at that too. Took my whole group to one of the colonies, we had to strip ourselves of layers from how humid the climate was," Shayne clarified, pretending to light his cigar as Spencer lit his own, passing his lighter towards you.

"Thank you, gentleman," you responded, lighting your two cigarettes, wearing them like vampire fangs that had Angela near tears at the end of the couch. "I do remember being down to my undergarments at multiple points with my men, I'll have you know we were all in position within the ama-zone. Quite the discoveries we made there, so uncivilized."

"AYE!" Angela corrected, pointing a finger, her moustache slipping down her face, "I'll have you know my third mistress is from those parts, and she is the best. You mustn't make such hastily claims gentlemen, it is unbecoming of you!"

You nod your head, "yes, yes, very unbecoming. What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work," you continue as Angela agrees with a huff, the game seemingly long forgotten as you all carry through conversation, trying your darnedest not to break character.

"Ah yes, I think I have a son or two, I can't quite remember. I think to name them all William, a strong English name," Shanye comments once you all get... gently reminded to play the game you intro-ed over half an hour ago, you hoped that the editors would be able to find something distinguishable in these files.

─────── · ·

"I do believe it is your turn, gentleman," Spencer comments, casting you a wink. "My, I have seen to misplaced that powered-device. Does anyone see it?" Everyone starts to feel around the dips in the couch, Spencer was the first to stand, walking closer to the cameras from where you rolled to during the introduction bit and comes back with your controller, dipping it towards you with a bow.

"Thank you, my, you must be quite the bachelor, charming a fellow like me, oh my," you add with heated cheeks as Spencer returns to your side, his leg nocking against your own as you shout out in disbelief to obtaining a star you DID NOT want. "This is outrageous, I demand a re-play of my turn! I did not intend-"

"We must play by the rules," Shayne cuts you off, tilting his hat down as you stick out your tongue. Angela is focused on not winning the next mini game as you and Shayne continue your staring contest in the following two rounds before you claim victory. "Haha! I have trained with only the best, you can read a lot about another man through his eyes. Have you been hunting before? I love that wild look." Spencer jumps to respond.

"Yes, I must say, you really can tell a lot..." and in that moment you both look at one another. Shayne and Angela are both screaming over something on the screen but you both sound it out, lost in this little moment before realizing your both won... or well lost.

"It appear we have lost," Spencer says, emitting a sigh. "No, I would say we have won," you tease loving the way his cheeks heat up to his ears before you both return to the game more driven then ever to not win.

─────── · ·

Jokes have you all toppling the couch at some point from your rambunctious laughter, Angela is struggling to breathe through her sentence much similar to you over just how funny Spencer manages to be wearing sweatpants and a cheap half tux.

Spencer immediately went to protect your head with his arm as you all fell backwards with a large crash, the crew all gasped out in shock before your laughter only grew more boisterous. "I think I hear a little man again," Shayne comments, forcing himself upright to look over the couch as stars begun to be distributed.

Like snipers at position you all kneeled, your eyes only visible from the turned over couch. Top hats giving away your cover and you had placed second, falling back to the ground in fake shock and relief. Spencer teased mouth to mouth that had you pressing a hand to his mouth and narrowed your eyes at his large ones filled with glee and adoration.

─────── · ·

Angela had lost in the end in first place. you second place. Shayne in third and Spencer being the ultimate winner in fourth.

"FUCK!" and the video ended abruptly to quickly cute to her wearing a dog cone while trying to light a cigarette, only for them to keep collecting down by her neck.

"Thank you all for viewing our game time today, I have had the most splendid time today with you chaps, as I hope you all have ventured the same?" Shayne asks the now upright couch and cast.

"Yes, I was quite filled with delight," you replied, nodding your head and tipping your hat to everyone on the sofa.

"I do agree with my fellow gentleman, here" Spencer replies, clapping you on the wrist this time, very much close to holding your hand, your fingers interlacing while watching Angelas 'winning' speech.

"I hate you all-"

"Why that id not very gentlemanly of you, do you wish to handle these matters outside in more space for our thoughts?" Shayne rebuttles.

"Yes, I rather have a few thoughts to show you," Angela challenged, brow raised as she begins to roll up her sleeves, Shayne doing the same. Alex closes the video by panning upwards and the screen fades to black.

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Gentleman's Rules: Don't Win Mario Party (Again!)

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 67k | 👎 7.78M subscribers 300k views 1 week ago only the politest of games... click to read more

1,110 Comments

username01 (name) and Spencer out here being the cutest even while cosplaying as colonizers, iconic behaviour you two!

username88 09:45 "Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount" - Shayne Topp 2024

↳ username70 OMG why did I not catch this earlier LMAO 🤣 ↳ username91 or what about 20:01 " What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work..." - (name) was UNREAL for sayin' this XD ↳ username70 OMG YES! 🙌😂

username22 I don't know about you but I'm feeling like I'm ready for a whole series of just this cast and just this game. I have had this video and repeat since it's come out! Please. Make. More. 🙏

username14 Literally so in love with how gentle Spencer was being with (name), dropping the persona to held them find their controller and even making sure they didn't fall hard?? 😭

↳ username91 and did anyone notice those little winks? UGH 😩

username40 this is not good material to be eating to, almost choked from laughing so hard, would not recommend.

userame66 That little exchange about seeing into one another's eyes was so poetic, like that bit did not need to go that hard 💗

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp

[skzdelf]

Squatter | Hwang Hyunjin

.ᐟPAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x reader

.ᐟSYNOPSIS:  Squatter/crasher is someone who settles on land without right or title. Inspired in the song "OKUPA" by the argentinian singer WOS (I will leave the song below so you can listen to it!!)

.ᐟWARNINGS: mention of weed and drugs; thoughts of death

.ᐟWORDCOUNTER: 1,7k (1731)

.ᐟA/N: divider it’s not mine :3

He walked through the dark streets, his pale skin illuminated by the few streetlights scattered around that part of the city.

Dark circles rested heavily under his eyes, and a black hood covered his head.

The moon, hidden behind the scarce clouds, was his only companion on that lonely nighttime stroll through empty streets and alleys. The area he wandered so carelessly through wasn’t the safest, especially at that hour, but for someone who had almost lost the will to keep living, none of that mattered in the slightest.

He moved through the streets like the wind, lost in thought, waving his hands near his stomach as if casting a spell. His mind was flooded with countless thoughts—among them, you. His thoughts overwhelmed him so much that he got distracted, nearly forgetting where he was headed.

He quickly regained his pace, only a few blocks away from his destination. Inside his pockets, he carried a couple of cigarettes and a Jolt, ready to spend a quiet night together.

Upon reaching his destination—your home—he stopped in front of the metal gates, knocking on the wooden door between him and the black iron bars with his fist. Resting his head against them, he wrapped his fingers around the bars, waiting patiently.

The door creaked as it opened slightly, and through the small gap, your eyes locked onto his tired, dark ones. A smile crept onto the taller boy’s face as your gazes met—he felt inmortal whenever you stare at each other like that.

Every time he saw you, he felt like he was losing his grip. You were the only reason he had to keep going. The only part of his day he actually enjoyed was the moments he got to see you, hold you.

You fully opened the door upon realizing it was Hyunjin on the other side, quickly fumbling with your keys to unlock the gate and let him in. As soon as the gate swung open, he rushed inside like lightning, crashing his chest against yours in an embrace full of warmth. He rubbed his head against your hair, messing it up even more.

Closing the gate behind him, he gently pushed you against the still-open wooden door, trapping you even further between his arms, whispering affectionate words in your ear.

You both stepped inside your dimly lit home. At that hour, you had already been asleep—until his knocks woke you up. You knew it was Hyunjin. He always showed up at this time, claiming he was too busy during the day. He never told you what kept him so occupied.

He took your hand, intertwining his long, pale fingers with yours, pulling you down the hallway toward your room. It was as if this were his own home—he walked through it with such ease and confidence.

Once inside your room, he let go of your hand and went straight to the window, opening it to let the fresh breeze flood the four walls. Meanwhile, you walked to the other side of the room, turning on the small lamp on your nightstand, filling the space with a warm glow.

He sat cross-legged on your bed, pulling his hood down and reaching into his pocket, taking out a hand-rolled joint. You sat across from him, watching his every move intently. It felt like déjà vu—this same scene played out nearly every night.

Flicking his metal lighter open, he lit the blunt, the tip glowing orange as he inhaled. The paper burned, turning to ash, as he passed you the Jolt, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that quickly filled the room with the unmistakable scent of weed. It wasn’t your favorite smell, but over time, you had grown used to it, learned to tolerate it.

The night went on like that, passing the joint back and forth until it was finished. The room was now heavy with the lingering scent of weed, faint wisps of smoke still hanging in the air.

Both of you lay on your backs, staring up at the gray ceiling, laughter spilling from your lips for no reason at all. Your hands were intertwined over the messy, wrinkled sheets.

Hyunjin always got loose-lipped when he was high, so he couldn’t stop the words forming in his mind from escaping.

"Everything feels easier with you" he suddenly muttered. It wasn’t a secret that he believed that. It wasn’t something he never thought he’d say, either. He just didn’t think now was the right time—he would’ve preferred to say it when he was sober. But at that moment, he couldn’t help himself, just like he couldn’t help but feel that simply being with you, seeing you for even a few moments, made all the sadness drain from his body.

Your brain struggled to process a proper response, so instead, you tightened your grip on his hand, propping yourself up on your elbow before leaning in to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

Outside your window, birds began to chirp—a sign that the sun would soon rise. Taking it as your cue, you reached over and switched off the only light in the room, silently letting Hyunjin know it was time to get at least a few hours of rest.

He lay beside you, both of you facing each other under the covers. You could feel his body heat so close to yours. He reached out, gently tracing his fingers over your face as if you were made of porcelain, as if he might break you with just his touch. He felt like, little by little, he was.

"Your bed is so big" he whispered, a quiet chuckle slipping past his lips, his voice raspy from the smoke. His eyes, now soft with affection, were locked onto you. "There’s always room for me to become a squatter in it."

Faint rays of sunlight began creeping through the window behind him, casting a golden glow over the room—and over your bright, glistening eyes. They reflected the morning light like magnifying glasses, making the glow even more intense.

Slowly, your eyelids fluttered shut as sleep took over. Hyunjin inched closer, wrapping you in his arms, resting his chin atop your head, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo mixed with the remnants of weed. Even with your eyes closed, to him, you still shined under the sun’s rays. To him, you always shined.

You brightened his days, but he believed he darkened yours. He didn’t know whose fault it was, but it was no one’s more than his . The guilt weighed heavy on him—he felt like he was dragging you down, ruining you. And he knew you’d never admit it, even if it were true.

That feeling was like a dagger lodged in his stomach. The words he had bottled up no longer felt enough to express what he truly felt—to make you understand that the only thing of value in his life was you, and yet, he was slowly destroying you. Everything he touched, he ruined. And he was so tired, so exhausted from that realization. He could no longer balance the scales of fate. Everything was against him.

Hyunjin didn’t sleep for more than half an hour. His thoughts kept swirling, overwhelming him, keeping him awake—even while holding onto his safe place.

He trembled slightly as he held you, thinking about how, from the very beginning, he had condemned you to fall into a dark pit with him. You had been so kind, so full of light when he first met you. Why did he have to drag you into this? Into weed, into drugs. He knew he had never forced you—you had chosen it yourself. But still, he couldn’t stop overthinking it.

He wanted to change fate—change his fate. The fate that had led him to meet you. He would never regret knowing you. The thought of not having you terrified him. If he wasn’t with you, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about death—his death—twenty-four hours a day.

Feeling you stir in his arms, he lowered his gaze. Your eyes were wide open, staring at him, a small smile playing on your lips.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked quietly, keeping the intimate atmosphere untouched.

"A while. But you seemed lost in thought, and I didn’t want to disturb your peace" you answered, yawning at the end of your sentence.

Disturb his peace? You didn’t realize how many nights you brought him relief? How much he lived for the crazy stories you told him when you were high together?

"You could never disturb my peace, pretty girl," he murmured, a weak chuckle escaping as he pressed a soft kiss to your dry lips. "Actually… thanks for all the days you stayed."

Hyunjin confessed in a near whisper. He knew you had talked about this before, that you didn’t like when he feared you’d leave. But he could never thank you enough for saving him.

"Don’t say that. I’d never leave your side, no matter what," you whispered, tightening your embrace, letting your warmth seep into him—letting him know that you’d always be there.

For some reason, Hyunjin really liked that your doorbell didn’t work. It seemed to intrigue him, almost like a thrill, making him wonder if you were home, if you’d hear his familiar knocks on your front door. If you were waiting for him.

And there he was, once again, standing outside your house after a rough day, hoping there was still space in your bed to crash for the night—because he loved being a squatter in your bed, in your room, in your home.

In your life.

His intrusive, wicked thoughts—the ones that made him question whether his own mind was on his side—would never truly leave him. But when he was with you, the storm in his head mostly cleared, making way for the ray of sunlight that you were to him.

As long as you existed, he would never leave. No matter how much he wanted to disappear, he would stay. You had never rejected him or pushed him away, despite all the darkness that surrounded him, so he made a promise to himself.

As long as you and he existed, he would protect you from whatever he could—even if he couldn’t protect you from himself, he would try his best for you and only you.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

You Get Me Closer to God

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: France

Warnings: Words & Actions that will damn me to hell; Poorly written smut; blasphemy

Summary: Father Daryl wasn’t an ordinary priest. He drew out your curiosity and curiosity killed the cat…but satisfaction brought it back.

A/N: I am going to hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200

gif by @mcbride

The smoke stung your eyes a little as it wafted upward from the cigarette hanging between your lips. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the priest arrive with two sisters and a young boy. A strange combination, but not the strangest you had ever seen wander into the walls. 

You had been with this same group of nuns since just after the end of the old world. You had traveled from America just before the turn, backpacking and adventuring with your boyfriend and the friends you shared. Partying, sex, drugs, and copious amounts of alcohol and bad decisions. 

You were the only one left now. 

The sisters had taken you off the street, quite literally. Half dead, beaten, and left for the hungry ones who would eventually stumble upon you. Sister Catherine had ensured your stay, even when you balked against most of their beliefs and practices once you were well enough to attend sermons and lessons. 

Though Sister Catherine still tried to persuade you to join them, they had all but given up, Mother Superior only allowing you to remain because it would be nothing short of a sin to cast you out into the clutches of the sick that wandered in search of flesh. You did your chores and kept your nose clean, well enough. 

You plucked the cigarette from your mouth and crushed it beneath your boot heel, following the sisters and their guests further into the compound by way of the narrow trail in the small garden. 

The sisters carried weapons, which was odd enough, but the priest laden with them, his scrutinizing gaze taking in every inch of the area around him. You knew that look well. Memorizing entrances, exits, weaknesses. 

You fell in behind the group as they entered the makeshift sanctuary, keeping enough distance to not be detected. Something told you (the way he turned his head and angled it, listening) that the priest knew you were there regardless. 

Father Daryl, you learned, observing from one of the pews in the back. The four were passing through, on a mission of which they would not divulge the details. Sister Catherine was content enough with letting it go, leading the group to their quarters for the night. While the sisters and boy bowed their heads with the sign of the cross, Father Daryl did nothing more than observe. Your eyes narrowed, following them as they approached. 

“Ah, this is Y/N. Our resident non-believer.” Sister Catherine gave you a teasing smile as the strangers took you in, no doubt wondering about your outfit of a cut off tank top, leather jacket, and black distressed jeans that disappeared into well worn combat boots. 

“I believe, sister.” You shot back. “I just don’t go about it with a constant stick up my—” Sister Catherine cleared her throat sharply and pinned you down with a look. “Sorry.” You muttered, the grin you wore anything but. Risking a glance at Father Daryl found one corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

Curiouser and curiouser. 

You stood but remained inside as the group was led away. You didn’t miss Father Daryl sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. 

After Compline, when the sisters had retired to their chambers for the Great Silence, you slipped out your door as you did most nights. A cigarette already hanging from your lips, you walked along the loggia, bringing your lighter up toward your mouth. You never lit the thing, eyes narrowed at the small cloud of smoke billowing up from the terrace below. 

You leaned over the thick banister, spotting Father Daryl easily. He was sitting on the back of one of the stone benches, his boots on the seat. Your first thought was to leave him be. It was late and engaging in conversation during the Great Silence was severely frowned upon. Even guests were asked to participate. 

But Father Daryl wasn’t just a guest. He was a priest. 

You kept your steps light as you descended the stairs and made your way outside. The tip of his cigarette glowed red before diminishing and he held the smoke in a little longer before exhaling. He was savoring it. 

He was flicking the ashes by the time you stood behind him, opening your mouth with snark on the end of your tongue. 

“Ain’t easy to sneak up on me.” He drawled, never turning to face you. 

You straightened, eyes blinking wide. “You’re American.”

“Get that a lot.” He mused in a low voice. Cigarette between his thumb and middle finger, he flicked it to disappear somewhere in the shadows. “Whaddaya want?”

“You’re a priest.” You stated plainly, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Appears so.” The way he grumbled out the remark was unexpected. You crossed the last few steps and climbed into the back of the bench next to him, leaving ample space in between. 

You could feel his eyes on you though he had yet to move. “You’re smoking. Didn’t you take a vow to refrain from voluntary destruction of your body or some shit?”

One corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk as he pointed toward the dark, starry sky. “We got a arrangement.”

“Uh huh. And what about the Great Silence?” You probed further. 

“Th’fuck’s that?” 

To your bewilderment, he didn’t bat an eye at what you initially presumed was a slip of the tongue, however unlikely. You were stunned into silence, mouth agape while continuing to stare at the man with eyes like saucers. When you never found words, he simply shrugged a shoulder and looked back to the stars. 

“S’diff’rent in America.”

You snapped your jaw shut with an audible click of your teeth. Something was definitely off here. You didn’t know much about the man in front of you but he was no priest. He didn’t seem to care much about hiding that fact either. You could sense he was dangerous. Anyone who would need a disguise yet care so little to keep it had to be. Still, you didn’t feel threatened. 

“I see.” You whispered, continuing to study him. He was an attractive man. Older than you, certainly. Your wandering gaze made it to his hand hanging off the end of his knee when you were struck with an idea. One that could benefit him but would definitely benefit you. 

After all, it had been a long, long time. 

“How different?” You asked, scooting close enough that your shoulders were nearly touching. He glanced down at the decreased space between the two of you and then looked at you from under his lashes. 

“Diff’rent. Why?”

“It’s just… we haven’t had a priest here in so long and…” you shifted to angle your knees toward him, giving him your best doe eyes, “would you take my confession, Father Daryl?”

His back went straight, jaw ticking with how hard he was clenching his teeth. “Nah. Don’t think that’s—”

“Please, Father! I don’t know how long I’ve got left in this world. None of us do. I’m so scared that if I don’t confess, I’ll—” You buried your face in your hands, shoulders trembling as small broken sobs escaped from between your fingers. 

“Okay, alright. Just… stop all that.” He made a gesture toward, well, you in general just as you lowered your hands to your lap. 

Gotcha.

“Follow me. I’ll show you to the confessional.” You hopped down from the bench, adding a bit of extra sway to your hips the moment you heard his boots against the concrete behind you. “We really should wait until tomorrow for this, rules and all.” You whispered as you guided him into the chapel. “I’m sure the sisters would understand, though, given I haven’t been the most…devout during my stay.”

Daryl simply nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot under your gaze. “S’this the thing?” He motioned to the booth with a sweep of his hand, looking as if he might bolt at any given moment. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, opening the door for him to enter. The fact he didn’t yet realize he’d been busted was amusing, but you weren’t just out for a laugh. 

“Right.” He cleared his throat and stepped inside. With a sly grin, you followed right behind him and pulled the door closed with your back pressed against it. There was about enough room for him to turn and look at you with wide, blue eyes. “Pretty sure you’re s’posed to be on the other side.”

“Nah, I like this side.” You slipped off your jacket and pulled your shirt over your head, letting both fall to the small area by your feet. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” You purred as you pressed flush against him. Daryl held his hands out away from you as far as he could in the limited space. “What’s wrong, Father? Don’t you want me?”

“Ya know I ain’t no priest.”

“Mhm.” You ran your thumb over his bottom lip while your tongue traced your own. “If you don’t want me, I can go. Do you want me to go?” 

“No.”

“Then sit down and let me tell you my sins.” He allowed you to grip his shoulders and push him onto the small bench. With hardly enough room to bend, you had to do some maneuvering to toe off your boots and shimmy your jeans down your legs to lift your feet out of them, pulling the rosary Sister Catherine had given you from the pocket first. 

Daryl was watching you silently. When you twisted an arm behind yourself and unclasped your bra, his hands moved to his belt buckle. You didn’t wait and straddled his lap wearing nothing but your modest cotton panties. He was still working at his zipper when your clothed cunt brushed the top of his knuckles. 

“Damn, woman, ain’t even touched ya yet.” His trousers were open but his cock was still held captive in the confines of his underwear. 

“I’ve been a bad girl, Father.” You purred, rolling your hips against his groin as your mouth slanted over his. He responded with equal fervor, licking your bottom lip before tugging it with his teeth. You couldn’t have stopped the full body shiver if you tried. A gloved hand palmed your breast, his bare fingertips warm as they rolled and pinched your nipples. “I’ve lusted after a man. A dangerous man.”

With a smile against his mouth, you worked a hand between your bodies and into his pants, stroking him languidly while you draped the rosary over his head, twisting it to press tightly against his throat. Daryl growled, his hips bucking into your hand when you pulled him free. 

Large hands drifted over your ribs and down to your hips, fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties. “Off.” He demanded leaning forward to capture your lips as he pulled the garment down over your ass, holding you steady while you lifted one leg and then the other, letting them dangle from your ankle. 

You didn’t wait, found that you didn’t want to; sinking onto him with your jaw slack and eyes closed. The initial stretch burned, it had been so long since you’d taken a lover. Daryl filled you perfectly, your dripping cunt molding around his length. 

“Fuck.” He breathed, his head falling back against the wall. Apparently it had been a while for him as well. “You’re fuckin’ tight.”

You smirked and rolled your hips, gasping when his fingertips pressed into the skin there. “Such language, Father. So unbecoming.” A moan punched out of you when he thrust upwards, jarring you suddenly but hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. 

“Shuddup.” He snapped. His hands slid around to cup your ass, kneading and spreading you open, digging in his fingertips to manage a firm hold. With his help, you set a brutal pace, moans and whimpers echoing in the empty chapel. 

You twisted the rosary again, the beads digging into his throat. Using it as a leash, you pulled him to you, licking inside his mouth. “Fuck, you feel amazing.” You keened, enjoying the painful grip digging into your ass that only tightened with your words. 

Daryl growled, the sound strained against the pressure on his throat. His face was slightly red from exertion and lack of oxygen, but the twitch of his cock within you didn’t lie. He liked it. 

You felt the scorching heat begin pooling in your belly, the frantic way you were riding him quickly coaxing your orgasm to the surface. The twitch and slow pulse moving against your velvety walls gave away that he was soon to follow. His jaw was set, grunts and breathy whimpers spilling out of him each time your ass slapped his clothed thighs. 

Biting your lip, you stared into his lust blown eyes before placing your mouth directly in front of his. “For Thee have I kept the purity of my body, and to Thee have I entrusted my soul; wherefore, preserve Thou Thy lamb, O good Shepherd.” Making a choked noise against the rosary constricting even tighter, Daryl used his hold on your ass to lift you, pounding up into you from below. Your words were jarred and fragmented, breaths coming faster as you neared the precipice. “Do not permit…the beast which seeketh to devour me…to consume me, and…grant me to prevail over the evil desires of my flesh!” The last word broke off into a shout of his name. Seconds later, you felt him pulsing within you, warmth spreading and coating your walls while your pussy milked him dry. 

Panting, you released your grip on the rosary and fell against his shoulder, your body moving back and forth with each heaving breath he managed. “Amen.” He croaked. You chuckled but remained as you were for a moment, relishing the feel of him softening inside you. Letting him cum in you was probably one of the worst decisions you’d ever made but you had a track record of those a mile long. “Don’t think ya can say enough’a them hail Mary’s or whatever for what just happened.”

This time you gave a hearty laugh, sitting up on his lap while he slipped out of you. You kept him pinned where he sat but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he appeared to be quite content. Holding onto the silly scarf he wore, you leaned back to grab your jacket, smiling when his hands came up to ensure you didn’t fall. 

Plucking a cigarette from the coat pocket, you dropped it back to the floor and struck the lighter, inhaling as the paper lit up and burned down.  You even felt inclined to share, turning your hand to let him have a draw after every one of your own. 

“I hope you realize,” you paused to blow out the smoke, “that I’m coming with you when you leave.” His brow drew inward as he took the offered hit. 

“Ya don’t even know me or what we’re doing.”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Sick of being cooped up here.” The man hummed, but didn’t exactly agree. “Look, you can let me go with you willingly, or I can sneak off and follow you afterward. Your pick.”

He stared for a moment, eyes narrowed behind the smoke that billowed from his mouth. “Don’t leave me much of a choice, does it?”

“Nope.” You grinned. “Besides, I may need to confess every once in a while.” 

[eighttens]

Night Air - bartender!San x reader

Synapses: working nights in a bar with San as the main bartender.

Inspired by San’s tiny waist, imagining him in a tailored vest, as well as the average customer service work experience (me yikes).

It hasn’t been long since you started, maybe two months, but you and him have already fallen into perfect tandem with one another. Given your previous expertise, having worked in the Gastronomy long since you started at “Halazia”, you were a very welcome and reliable workforce.

You had managed the place wonderfully, despite not being in a very high position of power in terms of the chain of command. That didn’t seem to matter though, as you coworkers all learned to navigate your natural charisma and strong personality, gratefully accepting your commanding persona. You could handle loud and rowdy customers, drunk, overdone men and whiny ladies alike, and were quick to alert the security should you notice tensions arising. You knew the regulars by now, and bartered with them, playing off the groups’ energies. To put it shortly- you were loved by Staff and Patrons alike.

What came to a surprise to everyone though, was how well you and San clicked. San, to put it lightly, wasn’t very personable or social. He was professional though, he did his job and damn did he do it well. With a degree in mixology and good years of bartending experience he made the best bartender the city had to offer.

It was another typical night, business was moderate enough to take the promised break, and San found himself grateful for it as he folds the cuffed sleeves of his dress shirt up. He glanced around, which quickly found your eyes, watching as you returned to the counter, ready to deliver the last drink he made to a private booth.

It was wordless communication between you two as you and him made eye contact. You turned on your heels, making your way to the drink’s destination with a charming smile on your face. In the mean time, San was fast to start one espresso, grabbing a packet of sugar and unceremoniously dumping it in before dishing it and starting a second one.

By the time you returned to the counter and made your way behind it, the second espresso was done as well. You passed behind him, hand ghosting over his shoulders as a quiet thanks as you make your way to the back door, heading for the terrace area.

Dutifully San followed with the espressos, his feet carrying him to your regular spot. You were leaned against a low window sill- half sitting on it, fingers making quick work of the pack in front of you.

San sighed inwardly as he remembers not even a week ago when he talked to his mother last, promising he would quit smoking, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel ashamed. It’s only half bad, he reasoned as he watched you roll one cigarette with expert speed and tuck it behind your ear, immediately starting a second one.

Every shift you shared (which were plenty), the two of you had this ritual and San wouldn’t give it up for the world. San set down the unsweetened espresso on front of you (he didn’t understand how the hell you drank it black, he tried to once and almost died), taking a sip of his own cup.

You hummed in contentment as you saw the cup appear in front of you, and you passed the finished cigarette to him, fishing a lighter from your back pocket. Taking your own cigarette from behind your ear you clicked the lighter once, twice before a flame erupted from the device.

You took a long drag, the tabacco crackling quietly as it burned, and you passed the lighter to San with your eyes shut, focusing on the comforting silence between you two. He accepted it and watched as you exhaled, smoke billowing in front of you. He lit his own; smooth nicotine filling his chest where he held it for a second before blowing it back out of his nose.

He ashes off glowing embers with a flick of his thumb and watches you pick up the espresso with the same hand that held the cigarette. You sip it calmly, miraculously not burning yourself whilst doing so, probably thanks to many many times you have done it.

He’s impressed every time you do it, he tried it once when you weren’t there and he wasn’t successful.. at all. He burned himself when the coffee spilled, and almost blinded himself in one eye when the lit end of the cigarette got a little too close to his face. He won’t mention it to you though, so he settles on watching some loose strands of hair fall across your face.

The low, yellow light outside the terrace makes your hair shine magically, but San fears that his stomach might flip, but he figures that it’s just the fact he hasn’t eaten in way too long. He forces his eyes away from you, looking towards the surprisingly clear sky, afraid of being caught staring once you open your eyes again.

There’s no need to speak, there never is when you two are on break, but for some reason San can sense something in the air between you two is different tonight. He’s not the best at reading the room, that’s more your forte, so he’s a little nervous the moment he picks up on it.

You must have noticed it too though, because your face is suddenly turned towards him, eyes half lidded as you blow another cloud of smoke from between your lips, setting down your empty cup of espresso. There’s a lazy smile on your face, and San curses himself for looking over, because this time he thinks that his heart might really stop in his chest this time. He waits expectantly for you to say something, anything, he can tell there’s something on the tip of your tongue.

But you don’t say anything at all, instead you just rub the ball of your palm over your eyebrow and sigh, ashing off your cig and tipping your head to rest on your shoulder.

“I’m so tired San.” You finally whisper into the cold night air.

The statement should be simple, evidenced by the hours you two work, but something tells San that there’s more to it.

It hurts in his chest, the way your voice sounds so fragile, and in a moment of unexpected confidence San scoots closer to you on the ledge, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders, allowing your head to nestle into his chest. You sigh and pull at the cigarette again before throwing it on the ground, not even bothering to snuff it out as you stay laying on his chest.

“I know.” He says after a beat of silence passes between you two, stubbing out his own cigarette next to him on the ledge and throwing it into his empty espresso cup.

He rests his head upon yours and breathes in your scent, thankful for this little moment of perfect calm. He decides not to think of having to return to the bustling bar in a few minutes, or of the exhausting trip home, or coming home. Neither does he think of the way that his fridge is empty at home, deciding not to pay any mind to the lack of dinner he has. He doesn’t find the energy to care about it though. No, he decides, this doesn’t bother him right now. Not when he’s here, with you wrapped so nicely in his arm, not saying a word, simply existing with one another.

[dorkus-mcdingus]

The Eyes are Always Honest

Characters: Fellow Honest, Gidel, Joanna O'Malley

Tags: OC x Canon, First Meeting, Fellow Honest x Fem!OC

Hoo boy this was a fic that was a long time coming. I love writing the dynamic between Fellow and Joanna especially with how both of them hate having their wings clipped.

You can think of this as like a precursor to Playful Land's story where Fellow and Gidel first landed on Sage's Island and it's sorta day (or rather night one of landing in the place). Also, if you see these brackets bolded (These ones ⏩ { } ), It just means Gidel is signing to his big brother. I just don't want to bother with trying to describe the signs he does unlike the previous story with Rosalie 😅

Another day meant another moment to see the moon rise. As the street lamps emitted their gentle glow, a pair of strangers idly strolled through the laughter filled streets of Foothill Town with nothing more than a bag carrying the essentials they needed and dressed in fabrics so bright that one could easily pinpoint them in the dark. Although in contrast to the vibrant colors they wore and the wolfish grin of the taller beastman, weariness of the road cloaked their eyes.

The bite of the autumn fog mauled their faces and stung their skin while the tiny beastman toddled close to his guardian to keep himself warm. At the same time, a nightmare replayed in their minds, all they could focus on now was to keep walking and to hold on a little longer before they could find something to hold them over until tomorrow. A cheap inn if they're lucky or at least someone who can accept their money and not turn them away.

Over in the Western half of Foothill Town in a quaint little cafe that viewed the vast ocean, a lone barista heaved a heavy sigh once the last customer left for the night and she counted her tips for the day.

"Rough night for tips but every little sorcent counts." The woman muttered. "The sooner I'm able to get back to England with Rosie unscathed, the better I'll be able to sleep."

Alas, the workday wasn't quite finished yet as she had to help close up shop. Excusing herself, she walked outside all while fishing for a cigarette and a lighter. If the boss was going to get on her ass about her behavior, while she loses hope about ever returning home repeating the same boring routine, might as well cool off before more customers come in, loiter around, and treat her like a maid.

Despite the chill in the air, the fog finally cleared and she got a good gander at the twinkling stars that shined as bright as magestones in a mine. Though, one in particular caught her eye as she raised the lit cigarette to her lips. This star in particular glowed brighter than the others and was quite a large one at that. The locals took to calling it,

'The wishing star.'

A star in which can hear the wishes and pleas of the people who are in dire need of hope or happiness. Some say that a gentle and kind celestial fairy took the form of that star and would grant the wishes of those who have given so much happiness to others.

"I sometimes wonder if that's true." She thought as she watched the smoke curl when she exhaled. "With how that bleeding carriage spirited us away, I need any kind of miracle."

Looking up, the twinkling star did give her some feeling of serenity. Maybe one little wish wouldn't hurt? While true, dad always told her that the old star could only take her so far, at this rate, she needed hope for the safety of her sister and a safe journey home.

After exhaling another drag of smoke, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and said quietly as if in desperate prayer,

"Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight."

"Some naysayers would say that a girl your age is far too old to be wishing on stars. Personally, I disagree."

The sudden voice that cut through the quiet bustle of the night shot at her like a blast of lightning and she hastily jerked her head to locate the source.

Before her stood two gangly figures. The taller one, a fox with hair, eyes, and fur as orange as a glowing fire, and the younger, a tiny little cat beastman who looked no older than an elementary schooler with fur and hair the color of mahogany while his large, round eyes and eyes that seemed to match the shade of peridot green shadow worn on his guardian's eyelids. Their outfits were unbelievably gaudy, bordering on stage costumes rather than proper streetwear. One could say, it's as if they were cosplaying proper members of society only to come off as a cheap imitation of the kinds of people she used to surround herself with in her old life.

The fox looked a little more spruced up compared to the cat (if not for the hole in one of his gloves and the intricate patchwork on his trousers) but it wasn't by much. In a crowd, he REALLY stuck out like the sorest thumb and his little lackey was no different especially with the mallet he held tightly in his tiny hands that hid behind these comically large sleeves.

"My, my Gidel." Spoke the fox, his honeyed voice oozing with faux adoration. "What have we here?!"

The cat, Gidel, looked up at the woman with wide eyes, and replied with a silent but surprised nod.

{"She's so pretty!"} He signed.

"Isn't she? Dare I say, that..."

"Pardon me." The woman interrupted. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, do excuse me, Miss. I was so enraptured by your beauty that I couldn't help myself with getting distracted." The fox replied, drumming his fingers on the golden handle of his cane.

She nodded with a warm smile as she put her cigarette out on the bottom of her high heeled shoe.

"It's rather cold out so I'll give you both some hot tea to warm up."

"You're far too kind my dear. Come along Giddy, we can't let our gracious host wait on us."

As the two travelers entered the cafe, the barista glared at them. Immediately, she knew they weren't to be trusted and every little fiber in her body screamed at her to turn them in to the police. However, the devil on her shoulder whispered oh so sweetly in her ear, tempting her to let them stay for a while. After all, back in her world she was no stranger to characters like him but the intrigue pulled at her so hard that she wanted to see how the handsome showman and his adorable little brother could try to pull one over on her. Alas, it seemed like this time her hedonistic curiosity won her over as she followed them inside.

The fluorescent lights acted like a spotlight as the two escaped the chill of the autumn night and into something more cozy. The poor things looked like they were practically starving so maybe something complimentary could do for them. Not like a pot of tea from her apartment would break her bank much. Still, just seeing the way the little boy gazed at the pastries displayed in the window, her heart felt close to shattering. The world truly can be an unkind place especially for children like him.

Once the tea was finished steeping, Gidel ran back to the table his guardian fox was sitting by and took his seat aimlessly swinging his legs with an innocent smile.

"Consider this as compliments of the barista." She spoke while pouring the tea with the skill and elegance of a proper hostess.

"Thank you!" Replied the fox. "Although, I'm afraid I haven't gotten your name."

The woman giggled.

"I do believe the custom is that the gentleman introduces himself first, sir."

"Oh my, where are my manners?!" The fox replied with a smile that oozed rose colored dreams. "My name is Fellow Honest. The young lad beside me is my dear friend, Gidel. He can't exactly talk but he's a nice enough sort."

With a light nudge, the cat boy looked over at his caretaker as he said,

"Go on, Gidel. Say hello to her."

Obeying the order, the tiny kitty greeted his hostess with the sweetest smile ever seen from a boy his age and a handshake.

"Aww, aren't you the little charmer, Gidel." She smiled. "Name's Joanna. Joanna O'Malley."

Fellow let out a chuckle as Gidel moved back to his seat, his ears and vulpine eyes narrowing at her like a lone rabbit in an open field.

"Joanna O'Malley, huh? Definitely rolls off the tongue well I'll admit."

Joanna gazed at her two guests, her grey eyes glimmering with intrigue as she retorted the fox's compliment with,

"Is flattery how you communicate, Mr. Honest? Pity your hostess isn't naive to fall in love with something so empty."

"Oh, no, no! I genuinely mean it! A lovely lady such as yourself befits a name like that. Apologies, but in my case it's hard for me to tell a lie. Matter of fact, many people have taken to calling me an 'Honest John' for that reason you see."

Joanna let out a smirk before she broke out into a giggling fit. This bloke couldn't POSSIBLY be serious! An Honest John?! Him?! It was like he had,

'Call the police! I'm a suspicious man!'

Painted in neon colors on the back of his coat.

Just that sentence alone, was enough for her to know the kind of person he is. A charlatan, a silver-tongued sleaze, a professional schmoozer who peddles nothing more than broken promises disguised as sweet dreams.

This rodeo wasn't anything new to her but oh how her heart pounded as a lack of logic took over her mind. She just HAD to speak to him more. Her curiosity about him and his little brother ate at her like vultures feasting on a fresh corpse as well as feeling like she took the revolver in her hand and spun the chamber. Who knows, maybe she'll live, maybe she'll succumb to her gamble and she'll greet the grim reaper with the most passionate kiss.

Either way, much like a shark smelling blood, she was locked in and Fellow could see she was on to him and his pretty little lies.

"Oh this will be FUN!"

"Apologies for my little giggle sir, it's been so long since I've felt this way before, especially since I've been so wracked with worry for a while now."

"Oh my sweet dear!" Fellow replied as he pulled up a chair for her. "Come now, tell me your troubles and maybe I might have the solution to help relieve you of some of your worries."

Joanna took a deep breath as she recounted her story. Not too long ago, a black carriage came by and shoved her little sister into a coffin and dragged her to another world. Trying to free her, she hitched a ride and had one hell of a crash landing and here she was. Trapped in Foothill Town, working day in and day out with barely a sorcent to her name, trying to find a way to bring not just her sister but herself home, back to their world.

Poor Gidel's sweet smile ran away from his face as he rubbed her arm. One could only imagine how terrified she was.

"I appreciate it, sweetheart." She smiled at the boy.

"Unfortunately, as far as my magic is concerned I can't cast a spell to help alleviate your worries. As far as my prowess with magic is concerned, I can only cast sparks to my fingertips, a small breeze, or little droplets of water."

Striking a pose to where it appeared he was lost in thought, Gidel tugged on his guardian's coat and with the rapid fire signs, the fox said,

"Yes... Yes! Ah, Giddy what a clever little genius you are!"

"Pardon me, what is he saying?" Joanna inquired as she collected the tea tray.

"He told me the most brilliant idea!"

Approaching the counter, he pulled out an Ace of Spades playing card with a charming smile on his face, letting out a giggle at the confused expression on the girl's face.

"Sorry, sorry. A bit of humor on my end. This is what I meant to give you."

With a slight of hand, between his fingers rested a glimmering ticket. In bright, red letters inscribed

"Playful Land Dream Ticket, Admit one."

Against the bright blue, crimson red, and beige.

"The hell is this?" Joanna asked a little coldly.

"My word! You've never heard of Playful Land? To think I would ever meet a soul who hasn't heard of our esteemed park."

Gidel nodded, his expression bug-eyed like a fish searching for water.

"Ah, you work at a theme park? I took you two as a pair of runaway vaudevillians or carnival barkers but I suppose the latter was correct."

"Really? It just so happens that I am the manager of the park. Though, color me surprised, I didn't think anyone knew about stage shows like that."

"The theater is one of my interests actually, alongside fashion and costume history. Though, commedia dell'arte is the one that gets me the most."

"Is that so? Well, have you ever thought of becoming a star on the stage? One of the perks of this particular ticket is not just the free rides and food but also participating in our world renowned stage show."

"Pfft! Bruv, never in a million years will I ever reach the stage. Even if you paid me the treasury of any royal family in this bloody world, I wouldn't do it. You truly are hilarious!"

"Oh but I insist!" The fox replied with the most insidiously charming smile and a twirl of his cane. "The moment you and I gazed at each other, I knew you could be a star in the making! Especially someone with the most magnetic 'come hither' stare like yourself, my dear. Think of it, the lights, the applause, a lovely lady such as yourself was made for the stage!"

She tried to choke back her amusement but much like one of her bad hangovers, she had to let it out. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until her sides went sore.

The manager and his lackey looked at each other as the swirl of emotions bubbled up inside them. They were going to lose her if they didn't redirect their strategy sooner. But it felt like a lost cause at this rate as not even magic worked to help her crack. The pitch was far too sketchy to where it could leave anyone howling like a hyena.

Once Joanna dried her tears and calmed herself from her laughter, she looked at the two much with a glint in her grey eyes on par with a lioness hunting for a fresh kill. With a low and melodic purr in her voice, she said to them

"My, my, darling. Aren't you quite the comedian! Dare I say a real Brighella if you will!"

For the first time in what seemed like a very long time, an icy chill shot through the fox. For some strange reason, the cafe started feeling colder than the autumn chill they escaped from.

Brighella was a character he knew well, especially whenever he had time to sneak into the theater. A masterful liar and schemer, fond of money yet spends it rapidly, but he takes advantage of those especially if it will gain him the best advantage. In other words, a scum of the earth omnivore just like himself.

The little boy on the other hand didn't take the insult well and just before he was about to hit her, Fellow immediately grabbed the mallet, looked at him like a stern parent and replied with a calm,

"Don't be crude."

There was a time for violence and this was not one of them.

"Oh how you spark my curiosity though Fellow. Believe me, your offer is tempting. Dare I say, tailor made for someone like me. Gorging myself like I'm a pig for slaughter, going up on stage to dance around like you're making me pretty for buyers who want my body, indulging myself in a carnival that's prime bait for hedonists! It's so sublime...!"

This was it! They got her hook, line, and sinker! Though her choice of words was unbelievably concerning towards anyone that's sound of mind. Well, a fool is a fool and a good way for them to make a quick mark...

"But I have to refuse, darling."

"WHAT?!"

"I've done plenty of dangerous things to give myself an adrenaline rush, hell, even talking with such a suspicious character like yourself is enough to get my blood pumping. However, much like you, I've got a sibling to look after and make sure she's safe. After my last attempt at laughing in the face of death, my sister became my reason to stay alive. Besides, I doubt you both would get anything out of me if you tried to pick my pockets except for a few measly sorcents. I may have come from money back in my world, but here, I have nothing."

Sure, in their travels they may have come across strange and suspicious characters like them, but not once did they ever meet a woman that was both intrigued and on guard. Fellow's sweet-talking silver tongue couldn't do anything while his unique magic wasn't much help either. After all, the girl was searching for her sister and she was already suspicious of them from the start so alas according to the rules of his spell, she really would take a lot of convincing.

She gazed at the ticket, the fox really bore a resemblance to the one in front of her. Recalling her childhood, she remembered her mother telling her stories of foxes and their notorious trickery but she gave both the fox and the tiny kitten toddling beside him a wide smile as her eyes narrowed at them.

"You're trapped in a whale's stomach, aren't you?"

The room started growing colder while Gidel clung to his guardian. He couldn't sign or act out what he wanted to say but it was enough to make him shake. Something about her just put him on edge and every single bit of him was telling him to run away.

"Ahem, eh-ehehehe... My apologies madam, but whatever could you mean by that?" Asked the fox as he smoothed down his little brother's messy hair.

"Your eyes gave you both away to me."

And for once, a look of genuine shock was plastered on their faces.

"You may lie and trick with your silver tongue and your brother's adorable charm is a magnet for gullible bell-ends, but the eyes are always honest, you see? They can tell me everything. You're both so weary from the long journeys you've been on, but you have that desperate hunger in them too."

Stepping out from behind the counter, she walked around the two eyeing them up and down like a prison guard performing an inspection.

"Looking at the clothes you both wear, I must admit, the needlework is amazing, but I wonder how many times you had to patch up your trousers and his shirt while walking for so long. The truth is, I don't know what you two have done in the past, but I can tell that you abhor the life you have now."

"Run! Run! You need to get out of here!"

Was the thought that screamed in the minds of the petty schemers. Just before he was ready to leave, he thanked Joanna for her time and left her the ticket in case she wanted to join them on a day full of fun.

"Boys!" She called.

"What now?!"

"You're forgetting something."

In her hands, she gave them a bag full of leftover sweets and sandwiches and a couple cups of hot apple cider but they both looked at the little offering with DEEP skepticism.

"Oh dear, it seems like you're both worried." Joanna replied.

"Why wouldn't we be scared after all the weird crap you sai-! I mean... We're just curious about the offer."

Close call. Almost slipped their cover.

"Something for the road. You both look starved to death."

"That little...! Is she looking down on us?!"

"I appreciate the offer, but we're on a rather tight schedu-"

Grrrrrol

Gidel's stomach couldn't help itself and as much as the little kitten hated to admit it, he was hungry and the checks they've been getting were getting less and less by the minute so they could barely afford food. Almost like the boss was trying to find a way to keep them as his own personal donkeys he could bark at like a slave driver.

In turn, Joanna looked at the little boy with deep sympathy. As much as it was fun setting them on edge, she really couldn't help but pity them. Heaven only knows what kind of horrors they've seen and what they're experiencing right now.

Fellow hates his life. That was for certain, much like how Jacob Marley was as dead as a doornail. As for Gidel, his innocence has been somewhat shielded for the most part, but he too has witnessed all sorts of horrific things at such a young age. Yet still, in a way he acted as his big brother's conscience. A sweet yet bitter bond they share that you can't help but pity.

"Please, take them. We're going to be closing soon and at least these won't go to waste. Besides you two are quite the fun pair, that it would kill me inside to see something horrible happen to you. Back home, I work as a bartender and I do have strict morals and principles when it comes to my customers. I'd rather they leave happy, satisfied, and head home safe. So rest assured that no one tampered with these."

They did smell good... And the apple cider would be a huge help in keeping them warm tonight on the way. Besides, it was better than a failed theft or pickpocketing attempt, or having to forage for potatoes again for the upteenth time and it was ESPECIALLY better than dealing with the boss barking orders or screaming abusive obscenities at them.

"On second thought, might as well take these while they're still warm."

Gidel let out a beaming smile as he bounced on his toes as he signed,

{"Thank you! Thank you so very much!"}

"You're very welcome, darling. As for you Fellow, I hope you can make it out of there. Whatever it is that's leaving you shackled. I'd hate to see a man like you have his wings clipped."

"What do you know about that?" Fellow replied, his vulpine eyes narrowing at her. "And why in hell do you care?"

"I don't like seeing passionate people like you both losing your spark. From the looks of it, you're stuck."

Heaving a deep sigh, the two gave her a little bow, bade her farewell, and disappeared into the night.

As Joanna watched their silhouettes grow smaller before disappearing into the darkness, she let out a somber smile.

"Honest John…” She scoffed as she tore up the ticket. “What a joke! I can read his face like an open book! Although, I know his pain too well. It's happened to me many times. While true, I don't know what it's like to go through what they've been through, I've been in partnerships and relationships where I nearly had my wings clipped."

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of Foothill Town, there rested a little motel where visitors could rent a room for dirt cheap. The owner, while wary of the two strangers, accepted the little fee they had to pay but at least it served as a refuge from the Coachman's abuse. Although they had no chairs or tables, they made do with the tiny room they had to share. Gidel's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop the more he got a good look at the morsels the woman at the cafe gave them.

Sandwiches, a cookie for both, a couple of muffins, croissants with little cups of blueberry jam, and then the hot cider waiting?! This was the most amount of food they've seen in so long and she gave it for free?!

"Damn it..." Fellow huffed as he unwrapped one of the sandwiches. "And she was a good mark too wasn't she Giddy?"

In reply, Gidel nodded although his cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's.

He tried to sign to him but Fellow quickly stopped him.

"Swallow first, then you talk."

Once he swallowed and set his sandwich down, he signed to him,

{"She's nice, but she's so scary!"}

"No kidding...! Geez Louise, I've never been more creeped out by a target in my life! It was like she was staring into my soul!"

Gidel nodded with a shudder as he took another bite of his little meal, urging his big brother to at least eat something.

"Okay, okay. I will." He replied as he took a bite.

The smoky taste of the meat coupled with the slight saltiness of the warm, melted cheese made his face soften up. For what seemed like a long time, Gidel saw a genuine smile on his guardian's face.

"Well, it's not all bad I guess. At least we got a decent meal out of her. I just hope to the heavens we never see her again!"

Gidel nodded as they both toasted the coffee cups filled with the hot cider, and took a sip soon after.

The warm, sweet but slightly tart taste of the apples felt like heaven after spending days on that godforsaken ship, waking up every morning to clean up the evidence of their previous prospects and to make sure the place shined like the Fairest City.

Still, what annoyed Fellow was that she was right. He was just like the old toymaker stuck inside the belly of that behemoth of a whale. The amount of times he had to kiss ass, sacrifice blood, sweat, and tears so that the hard times wouldn't be so hard on them, but that jackass of a Coachman made the two of them his own personal marionettes to exploit.

He looked out the window and back to Gidel, letting out a sigh as he gazed upon the wishing star.

"I'm not lucky enough to have my wish come true, but if you can hear me, I need a sign. At least something to have a bit of hope to better our lives."

[leviathanspain]

one night only

eddie roundtree x dunne!reader

synopsis: your entire adolescence was being in love with eddie, and now as an adult you have to learn that love is a cruel thing

a/n: i got carried away writing this so it’s way more than just an eddie fic? it’s very angsty and very much not your happy ending, at least with eddie because he’s an ass in this

you practically screamed as you and camila fell into the van that held your two brothers and their band mates.

you had fallen into eddie’s lap, his face soft surprise as he helped you up. “boys.” you greeted your brothers who’s surprise overtook their features.

y/n dunne: our parents weren’t so happy to be having their teenage daughter on the road with a bunch of guys. but it helped that two of them were her overly protective brothers.

billy dunne: was i concerned? not as much as i should’ve been. i was sort of focused on camila.

graham dunne: i guess you could say that i took responsibility of her. she wasn’t quite the kid anymore but she still had a lot to learn about life.

you had decided to take on the challenge on managing the band. so far, getting gigs wasn’t getting any easier and the band was only getting worse. but at the end of the day, there was always someone who put a smile on your face.

you had gone out back to smoke, hoping that it would clear your mind, but instead you found the bane of your existence and the main reason you even left town.

“eddie.” you didn’t expect to see him out there but there he was, in his shining nighttime glory.

“hey y/n,” the sound of a chair being dragged over dirt and sand was heard and in front of you, “have a seat.”

you sat down and watched eddie take out another cigarette from his pack and hand it to you. you took it gratefully and waited for him to light it.

as the lighter flickered in his hand, you leaned forward with the stick in your mouth. silently you waited, and eddie lit it, but you held burning eye contact with him, before inhaling and smiling at him.

silence met the action and you flicked the cigarette, “i managed to get us a good gig, no weddings this time.” you promised and eddie laughed, “are you sure? cus the last gig-“

“was a bust. but i’m learning as i go, same as you guys.” you defended yourself and eddie laughed, “good girl.” he encouraged you, but all it did was leave you with a hunger.

y/n dunne: i could’ve died with eddie roundtree i love you written on my forehead and he wouldn’t take the hint.

karen sirko: everyone but eddie knew it.

you didn’t know what had come over you. one moment, you were in your room trying to get some sleep after a long day of arguing with club owners on the phone to drinking until the sun came up with the band.

y/n dunne: i wanted his attention. took me years to admit why i did what i did that night.

your hands were entangled in the fabric of his shirt. the man dancing against you was nameless to you, just a man you couldn’t resist the feeling to push up on. you had looked around to find eddie but he was long gone.

disappointed filled your head and you felt like you wanted to cry, but that was the alcohol already taking over. the man you danced with noticed the drop in mood and grabbed your waist pulling you in, “wanna get out of here?” his gruff voice whispered in your ear and as you looked around once more, you had agreed, feeling him pick you up.

billy dunne: she didn’t come home for two weeks, and when she did, it was with a marriage license and a raging coke addiction.

y/n dunne: i like to call it my daisy jones days.

graham dunne: i guess after dealing with your sister like that, you learn a thing or two for whoever’s next.

you dragged your bags to the door and knocked loudly. the weight of the bracelets on your hand made for an even noisier knock. after a few more moments knocking, the doors finally opened, eddie standing on the other end.

y/n dunne: i had hoped that i wouldn’t have to see him so straight off the bat. but i guess things happen for a reason.

he was shocked, plain and terrible shock was on his face as he stepped out of the way to let you in, “y/n! where have you been?! we have all be worried sick.” it was a rushed embrace as he hugged you and you quickly pulled away. you ignored his question and instead changed the subject, “where are my brothers? are they home?”

y/n dunne: it was seven in the morning, of course they were. i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t talk to him like nothing, even if he didn’t know that i loved him, i did.

the sound of more bags being dragged into the house tore eddie’s attention away from you. as you left to wander the house, eddie was left to greet your new husband.

y/n dunne: i had left them alone intentionally. kit wouldn’t like eddie, and i knew eddie wouldn’t like kit.

karen sirko: a little diabolical i would say.

warren rojas: lady killer.

kit stuck his hand out to eddie and smiled tightly, “christopher blackwell. but you can call me kit.” eddie shook his hand, a silence overtaking them.

eddie roundtree: y/n had brought home a greek god. i mean, he had to duck under door frames, he was so ripped you could see the muscles under his shirts, his hair was tossled impossibly good…

karen sirko: i was so jealous. he was practically etched in stone.

graham dunne: i was pissed.

shouting heard distantly had filled the awkward silence between the two of them. eddie turned to look at the incoming figures from the hallway, “i’m here now, billy! i refuse to believe you even noticed i was gone!”

billy dunne: sad thing was she was right. graham had told me a week later.

billy was already readying another argument when eddie stood up from his seat and cleared his throat. “billy, have you met kit, your sisters husband?”

eddie roundtree: billy was pink for the rest of the day. i had never seen him so mad.

graham dunne: it was definitely a day to remember.

billy dunne: that day she came home with him was the day i got my first gray hair.

you grabbed kit’s hand after billy’s outburst, “let’s go? i’ve got a friend who’s got a place for us to stay at.”

your husband nodded, “should i load the car up again?” you nodded quietly, clearly upset over billy and having to see eddie, you needed to be free of this house, at least for a little while.

as kit began to load the bags up again, you ventured down the hall to your bedroom, grabbing all the remaining belongings and stuffing them into bags you found all over your room.

as you turned to leave, giving the room one last look, you nearly fell over at seeing eddie, “how long you’ve been standing there?”

eddie shrugged, “long enough to get ask if you’re sure about what you’re doing?”

you laughed, “really, roundtree?”

eddie raised his eyebrow, “what?”

you shook your head, “you don’t get to say that. you don’t get to have an opinion on how i live my life, because u like you, i’m living it for me, not my bandmate’s girlfriend!”

karen sirko: having to hear that argument while you’re ‘sleeping’ in your bed was rough.

camila dunne: i didn’t even know she had come back, only saw the back of her dramatic escape.

silence filled the space, eddie because of pure shock and yours because of regret. but it was too late now. you pushed past him, dragging the bags full of your belongings, you didn’t even say goodbye to your brothers as you threw yourself into the car, kit’s foot already slamming the gas as the two of you disappeared.

graham dunne: that day still haunts me. there’s so much that i wished i could’ve done differently. but we were different people back then, and we had other priorities.

billy dunne: i was hard on her because i knew her, i knew that this was a life lesson she needed to learn.

it had been months since you’ve seen the band. you had heard their song on the radio and fought the urge to call them. you wanted to, congratulate them on the feat they achieved without you. but the way you left things always had you hanging the phone up.

y/n dunne: i didn’t know who i was. i suppose i never really did. i was so lost during those days.

kit blackwell: the drugs were killing her. i would come home to her passed out in the bathtub, the lines next to her on the toilet seat.

the final cry for help was when he couldn’t wake you up. the water wasn’t working, and slapping you awake wasn’t either. taking the chance, he grabbed you, tossing you into the car before speeding away for the hospital.

y/n dunne: he saved my life that day. he wasn’t even supposed to be home and he found me..

kit blackwell: i knew something wasn’t right. one of those days it would happen, and that day it did.

the band had to find out about your overdose from your husband, who had hesitated to even contact them.

graham’s knuckles were white as he hung the phone up, the rest of the band looking at him with raised eyebrows, “what happened?”

graham shook his head, using a hand to cover his mouth, he paused before speaking, “y/n overdosed. she’s being discharged into rehab today. kit just called.”

eddie roundtree: was i mad? of course i was. but i was even more mad because i never knew she had been doing drugs in the first place.

the recovery had been slow and hard. everyday was hard and your temper had worsened. your husband took most of the hits, constantly arguing with you, until you’d apologize and tell him what was really bothering you.

“i’m sorry.” you’d finally break, tears welling as he opened his arms, always ready to receive you.

kit would hug you tightly, kiss you and nod that it was okay, because to him this was sickness and in health.

y/n dunne: i was an awful wife. i didn’t know how to cook, i couldn’t clean very well..

kit blackwell: she was perfect. i didn’t care of her faults, because to me she was perfect.

more months passed and you had finally reached out. kit had begged you to, knowing it would help your final stage of recovery by reconciling with the people you had hurt.

so there you were, outside their doorstep with another secret.

y/n dunne: i guess being dramatic has become my thing over the years.

kit blackwell: i didn’t want to send her over alone. but i guess she wasn’t really alone.

you could see your bellybutton stick out from under the dress. you rubbed a hand down your belly as the door opened.

karen greeted you, a wide smile on her face as she pulled you in for a hug. she hadn’t even noticed the protruding belly that when she bumped against it, she had let out a gasp.

“oh my god!” she was practically jumping off the walls as she realized.

karen sirko: i had never been happier for someone. she was clean, she was healthy, color in her skin, i mean what more could we have asked for?

y/n dunne: i was around twenty or so weeks but i was showing by twelve weeks, so i looked farther along than i was.

billy and graham had mixed reactions. they were your big brothers, how could they not be upset? but slowly, after a long talk with them, they had come around.

“just picture it. uncle graham.” you had nudged your brother and he smiled, “i guess it’s not that bad.” he leaned down to your belly, “uncle graham here..”

you laughed and pushed him away gently, “graham!” and graham erupted into a laughing fit that had you and the rest of the band laughing as well.

billy dunne: to be honest i wasn’t happy. i didn’t think she was ready, but i wasn’t either when camila told me about the baby just a few weeks later.

y/n dunne: he called me to apologize for things he didn’t even say. i accepted it because it’s billy, hardly does he ever apologize.

eddie’s reaction was almost like a silent horror. your absence has filled him with an unknown feeling. he couldn’t fill it, no matter how much booze he tried or how many girls he fucked, it was still a huge aching hole.

eddie roundtree: i was blinded by camila. i didn’t see y/n right in front of me until it was too late. but i think in the back of my mind i always knew.

warren rojas: it was obvious. i’ve seen it all from the beginning anyway but basically, y/n had been in love with eddie since we had been practicing in their garage. eddie was in love with camila for god knows how long-

y/n dunne: i had stopped loving eddie the day we fought. i couldn’t do it anymore, i wouldn’t torture myself any longer.

warren rojas: then she got married and eddie was starting to get jealous and then she got pregnant and that’s when reckless eddie came out.

eddie was like a wound up matchbox car. all he wanted to do was sit and argue all day every day. during practice was when he would antagonize billy the most.

y/n dunne: i had stopped managing them when i left. so i hardly knew what was going on because i was too busy getting ready to raise my kid. so when i get the call…

warren rojas: it was like a car crash. you couldn’t help but keep watching.

eddie’s voice was shaky as he talked, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know and now i do and all i can do is sit and watch you two be happy and have your kid. that should be my kid, i should be married to you.”

kit blackwell: i would’ve killed eddie if she hadn’t begged me not to. i knew she loved him, but her love had changed and she didn’t love him like that anymore.

y/n dunne: i would’ve hung up but he would’ve just kept calling.

you saved yourself the trouble and made kit drive you down to the house. you didn’t even bother to greet the band, making way to the back porch.

eddie was slung out over one of the chairs, a cigarette lazily hanging out his mouth and beer bottles tipped over.

he looked up at you with a wide smile, “baby..”

y/n dunne: i would’ve punched him but i was also heavily pregnant so..

kit blackwell: i did it for her.

you had left the house crying, clutching your own arms as a way to comfort yourself as you made way to the car, “kit.” you sobbed, and he got out the car quickly, “what happened?”

warren rojas: he was an asshole to her man. i had never felt so disappointed than watching and hearing what he said to her. he had practically yelled at her for not waiting for him and for marrying some other man.

graham dunne: by that point, i had actually taken a liking to kit. he cared about her, like really cared. no man would stay after what happened with her and rehab. but he was a good man.

billy dunne: i liked kit, and i didn’t like eddie. kind of a no brainer on who’s side i was on.

karen sirko: of course i was on her side. she was my best friend, and i was the future godmother of her child.

camila dunne: i didn’t know what to believe.

eddie had hit the floor with almost no effort. he was a mess, the beer bottle spilling over with him. no one else made a move to help him, not even as kit continued to barrel through the house like a storm, did anyone move a muscle.

warren rojas: i was scared that if i moved i would get punched.

graham dunne: my sister had failed to mention that her husband had gotten into boxing so he knew what he was doing when eddie hit the floor.

kit blackwell: i was pulling my punches.

karen sirko: it was incredibly romantic.

you and your husband had sped away quickly after, still crying in the passenger seat, it had been a painful drive home.

y/n dunne: i guess i should mention that eddie and i had slept together the first month we were out there. we swore we would never tell anyone but considering we were fighting all the time, it was obvious.

warren rojas: of course i knew. i had caught them! but it was a drunk mistake, at least they said it was.

y/n dunne: it was. but he was drunk and i was stupid. i thought he loved me and that he had finally seen me for me.

eddie roundtree: it was my fault she got addicted to drugs. my rejection did that to her.

y/n dunne: he said that? oh god no, i got addicted because it was los angeles in the mid seventies.

kit blackwell: he also asked her if she was sure the baby was mine. but she didn’t tell me that until the day after because she knew what i would’ve done.

you had invited the band except eddie over to your house to meet the baby.

y/n dunne: everyone thought kit had asked for eddie not to be invited but i actually made that decision.

karen sirko: was i surprised? not really, but i was even more surprised that he had actually listened and stayed home.

warren rojas: i would’ve supported eddie except he was actually in the wrong this time so i let it go.

the baby in your arms gurgled as kit opened the door. cheers erupted as the band waltzed in, karen going to grab the little baby from your arms.

you shouted “be careful!” as she took the baby outside. graham grabbed your arm and gave you a tight hug, “baby sis, how’s your baby?”

you smiled brightly, “he’s doing good, karen took him out back.” graham nodded and made his way out back.

billy hugged you next and kissed your forehead, “god im so proud of you. i really am.”

y/n dunne: of course i noticed eddie wasn’t there. i just didn’t think he would actually listen and not show up. but was i upset he didn’t go? no. i have a happy memory of my family all together and he didn’t ruin it.

eddie knew staying back was a bad idea, especially when camila had volunteered herself to stay back with him. she was pregnant too, and eddie wondered if making all the women he loved married and pregnant with other people was a method of torture forced onto him by god.

“i should’ve gone.” eddie muttered, as camila sat down next to him.

she shook her head, “she purposefully asked for you not to come. and you wanted to go?”

eddie shrugged, “i usually do that. i think-“

“that you need to get over her? she’s married to that real life ken doll and she’s got a baby. maybe you need to do the same and move on.”

eddie roundtree: none of that was what i wanted to hear. i wanted..

warren rojas: go get her back. steal her from him and run into the hills with the baby. blah blah blah, he had that all rehearsed and memorized and i had to hear his ‘plan’ constantly.

y/n dunne: i think at that point eddie loved me more than i had ever loved him. i was happy! and i think for a moment so was eddie.

the band was taking off. their success put a smile onto your face, especially as their fan base grew. but that still didn’t stop the last phone call you ever got from eddie roundtree.

eddie roundtree: everyone had been so focused on billy and his addiction that i thought of her. i called to tell her so she could talk some sense into him, after all she knew what he struggled with but..

warren rojas: it was a shitshow. i didn’t even know you argue like that through a pay phone.

y/n dunne: there’s nothing more i wish to ever say to him.

“you know, i loved you more than i ever loved anyone? not even camila, who i’ve spent years pining over. but you! you are the light of my life, you are the air that fills my lungs. y/n please don’t do this to me..” he pleaded, his voice was shaky and his hands were white as they gripped the phone.

“i don’t care, eddie. one night, it was one night and even then, it didn’t matter. why does it now? because i’m finally happy? don’t call me anymore.”

y/n dunne: it got worse after that but it doesn’t matter anymore.

kit blackwell: he had told her that he had slept with her because she was desperate.

eddie roundtree: it was so stupid. so stupid.

kit blackwell: that comment had only made things worse.

radio silence from eddie followed. you and kit had made the collective decision to move across the country, for the better of your marriage and your son.

y/n dunne: you think i wanted to stay in california after all that? no. i wanted a fresh start with my family and i got that.

ansel blackwell: new york is my home for me and my siblings. i think it was sort of a blessing in disguise that they moved out of california.

graham dunne: having her not there was definitely hard to get used to. but she was off being happy, and that made it easier for sure.

karen sirko: i had planned to move to new york anyway, so nothing changed for me.

eddie roundtree: are we done? because i don’t have anything else to say. it’s been twenty years.

kit blackwell: best twenty years spent.

y/n dunne: my heart has never been fuller.

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Dunno if you’ve already done this and you don’t have to, but how about m!greaser casually giving the gang + Shepard siblings the ultimate princess treatment??

I’m talking like MAJOR princess treatment. Holding doors without asking, popping off beer caps, lighting cigs with his own lighter, bridal-carrying them away from a rumble when they’re hurt, etc etc. m!greaser isn’t even teasing abt it too, he’s genuinely just a whole ass gentleman

Of course anon!!! I love this request 🖤❤️🖤❤️🖤❤️

Ponyboy Curtis

-he’s surprised whenever you start treating him like damn royalty

-honored but surprised

-he loves the treatment he gets from you

-he always makes sure to say thank you

-he loves leaning on your shoulder when you carry him back from getting hurt

-he reads you stories that you fall asleep to as a way of saying thanks

-the other greasers tease him so hard about it tho

-he would do the same things for you that you do for him (:

Johnny Cade

-wow

-he’s like so not used to people treating him with baseline kindness or respect

-so you goin get extra more to do these things

-to light his cigarette, always make sure he has a place to stay for the night, bridal carry him at the slightest injury

-he’s pretty grateful

-also gets pretty flustered whenever you do it

-always says a quiet, “thank you” with a tiny smile

Sodapop Curtis

-he’s often overlooked as the middle Curtis sibling

-and he’s really only used to people doing things for him

-well, because he’s pretty. He has pretty privilege and he knows that

-and whenever you do these things for him

-just because he’s sodapop

-it’s what makes him give you genuine grins

-not his fake, charming demeanor that he so often carries

-but a genuine smile is what you bring to his face when you do these things

-and he’ll kiss your cheek 😊

Darry Curtis

-he does the same thing tbh

-most gentlemanly out of all of them

-you two are so mutually so sweet to each other

-but it backfires sometimes because you both want to do the same nice things for each other

-probably the most stable couple

-I really ship yall personally

-you guys would spend like 45 minutes fighting over who pays the bill at dates though 💀💀

Dallas Winston

-the least gentlemanly

-bro just does not think about much other than his own surroundings

-💀💀

-but he would definitely smirk whenever you do those things for him

-“Well ain’t you a doll, y/n?”

-that’s kinda the most thanks you’ll get 💀

-deep down he’s grateful but it takes him MONTHS of dating for him to even mutter thanks

-would not let you carry him though

-his egos too heavy anyway 😔

Two Bit Mathews

-he’d make jokes

-it’s two bit what do you expect

-but like jokes of affection

-really cheesy

-If you lit his cigarette “Y’know what else you set on fire? My heart.”

-if you carried him “Givin’ me a preview of the wedding hm? I see you…”

-and ur like two bit you literally broke your ankle

-but he’s actually really grateful whenever you do those things for him

-🫶

Steve Randle

-he would act nonchalant about it

-but he would totally care

-and brag to Sodapop about you and all you do for him

-and would try to kind of pay you back by spending his free time always upgrading or working on your car

-but he still mutters thank you to you

-but shows his full gratitude in other ways

Tim Shepard

-he’s absolutely not used to this

-he’s pretty smug whenever you do it though

-and definitely shows you off for it

Curly Shepard

-he would definitely be smug in a similar way to him

-like heh yeah my baby treats me like a goddamn king

-he would kiss you in front of anyone every time you do something for him

Angela Shepard

-she’s so cute

-she’s so grateful because most of the guys she’s dated have been dicks to her

-and when you come along and treat her like a princess she wants to cry tbh

-she gives you so many hugs n kisses

[junimosity]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆Stirring Skyscrapers - Pt. 2⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

part 1 - part 2

pairing: HarveyxAFAB!Reader

summary: after a rockslide blocks the road back to stardew valley, you find yourself stuck in zuzu city for the weekend. luckily for you, you weren't the only one at the bus stop - but make it the sequel

w.c.: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), no beta (we die like grandpa), fluff and smut, more cigarettes, mentions of alcohol, confessions, confessions! , sex under the influence, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), creampie, idk what else to say just read it pls!!!

divider by @saradika-graphics

It didn’t take long for you and Harvey to reach a mutual point of realizing it was time to go home. You composed yourself the moment you’d stumbled slightly on the dance floor, Harvey finding himself giving you a hand without question. You took it, although you didn't really need it, having danced out most of the alcohol that was sitting on your stomach full of an excellent, not to mention free, meal. 

“Mm, let’s get back to the hotel before it gets any later. Don’t wanna miss the,” Harvey hiccuped a little, “check out time.”

He was oddly well spoken for the amount of shots you’d both consumed, but it didn’t surprise you, not when you didn’t feel very far over the edge of inebriation yourself. You nodded in return, guiding him from the hand he offered you back to the coat check. 

“Ah, I think it’s here sm’where,” you patted yourself, much like he had back at the bus stop before, but with much less worry. “Aha!”

Harvey swallowed against the tightness in his throat as you pulled the two coat check stubs out of your bra. You cringed a bit at the dampness from all that dancing before handing them to the attendant with an apologetic grin. They rolled their eyes as they found your coats, you and Harvey both warm enough to not put them back on as you exited the club.

The streets were alive- eleven in the evening on a weekend, the busiest hour for the clubs of Zuzu. There was a line outside of the club you’d just left, some much younger people cheering as space opened up for them to enter. You and Harvey gave each other a mildly drunken glance at the hollers, laughing abruptly as you began to pace together, much slower than the party goers of the evening. 

“Wanna walk?” you asked, eyeing the overflowing subway station.

“Please,” Harvey sighed in relief. “I think’ve had ‘nough crowds for today.”

You thought back to just twenty minutes before, as a group of college boys formed a circle around him, cheering him on to do a handstand. He was clearly thinking of the same moment as he looked at his hands, probably remembering the sticky feeling of the dance floor. Remembering he’d washed them very shortly after, you felt a little urge to take a while longer. 

“Cig’rette?” You offered with a slur, finding the near full pack in your jacket. He obliged, grabbing the lighter from his own as you two lit up. The two of you found the entrance to a park nearby, glittering skyscrapers towering over the well maintained oaks, fractals of city lights shining through their leaves onto the pavement below. “We can get to the hotel through here.” 

“Lead the way,” Harvey spoke through a puff. 

The two of you began through the park, the night breeze chilling your sweat covered skins. This was as fresh as the air got around here, the scent of rubber and gasoline carried within it. It made your cigarettes smell akin to fresh stardew valley flowers. 

“If’m being honest with ya, I can’t really picture ya living here,” Harvey said, his voice a little hoarse after having to yell to communicate in the club.

“Hmm,” you responded as you took a puff. 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, I just, uh,” He trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“No, no, I didn’t take it that way. I actually agree with ya,” you smiled. 

“Oh?” Harvey quietly inquired. 

“It’s hard for me to imagine how my life was before moving to the valley. It’s the smallest chapter of my life so far, but it kind of feels like I’ve been there the whole time. Or, like, I hadn’t really started living yet.” 

“I know what ya mean,” Harvey laughed. 

“Do tell.”

“Well,” he flicked some ash off as the park became quieter, the bustling club scene disappearing behind the oaks. “For starters, the whole Dave thing was a pretty strange start to my adult life.”

“Understandable,” you urged him to continue. 

“And after that, I did my residency in Grampleton. That was, well, Grampleton,” he shivered a little. “I found m’self working in the free clinic there more than the O.R., and I fell in love with it. Times were rough in the city then, and I found a listing for an ‘urgently needed physician’. It was Lewis, believe it or not.”

“So you moved to the valley on a whim?”

“Juuust like you,” Harvey slurred a bit, tie still wrapped around his head. It let you relax, not feeling like you had to try so hard to appear sober. 

“I’ll be damned, doctor Harvey,” you let out, stretching your arms above your head, jacket catching on the breeze. “You really are just like me. How did I not know any of this?”

“I guess I don’t really like to talk much about my time before Pelican Town. Never had much context to share with anyone,” he turned to you as you walked, your steps a little lazy. “Not neeearly as much context as introducing someone to Dave.”

“Pshh, you don’t need Dave to make your personal history interesting. You’re fuckin’ cool, Harveeey!” you laughed. “Don’t be mean to yourself.”

“You keep sayin’ that and I’mma have to-” Harvey very quickly heard himself, taking a drag of his cigarette to shut himself up as his eyes flew wide. 

“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do?” You laughed again, turning to see him stopped a few steps back. “Harvey? Y’okay?”

“I-uh, I think I’ve had too much to drink,” he tried to make himself sound far more sober than believable. He sounded like that after only a single sip of wine. 

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” You attempted as well, coming up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder with concern. “We’re almost out of the park, we can grab a bottle of water at the mini-mart on the corner.”

“(Y/N),”

“You know, if we walk through the grass we can get to the 8th street Joja, they’ll have electrolytes,”

“(Y/N), Harvey continued as you looked around. 

“C’mon, there’s a bench right there,” you didn’t listen, instead sitting down a few paces ahead. Harvey sighed out a little, placing himself next to you, awkwardly far. You turned to him quizzically, reaching over to grab the tie above his head and bring it back around his neck. You scooted closer to him as you fixed it under his undone collar, leaving it nice and loose. Your leg brushed up against his, and he breathed in deeply. 

Silence took over the two of you as you looked out into the dark park. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” Harvey breathed after a while, putting out his cigarette in the trash can next to the bench. “But it might be a topic better discussed in sobriety.”

“Oh no, am I in trouble, doc?” you tried to laugh, but your heart began to race a little. Were you in trouble? Was he about to place a boundary with you? Not that it would be a bad thing, but you thought you were having fun, perhaps even opening another chapter of your bond with him.  

“No! Yoba, definitely no,” he panicked a little, putting his hands up as he tried to turn back to you. He didn’t make the turn all the way though, finding himself facing directly forward into the park. You brought your head forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his face head on. Yoba, he was red. More red than the moment before. You almost asked if he was okay again when he closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. “I could never be angry with you.”

“What’s wrong, Harvey?” you asked a bit softer, realizing this was not a physical problem. Something was really weighing on him. Was it Dave? The club? Surely not after his breakdancing debut. Was it the hotel? Your heart rate quickened further. You really thought this night was headed in a much different direction. How stupid could you have been to think that little fantasy of yours would play out? Only one bed, how foolish it was. There was no chance in hell that you’d share it with him, let alone-

“(Y/N), can I ask you to-” he swallowed, “do something for me? You can say no. I won’t be offended, I won’t take it to heart. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” 

“Harvey,” you shook your head a bit, placing a hand on his forearm. “You couldn’t make me uncomfortable if you tried.”

The redness returned to his face. He could feel it himself, but he was too far into this to let it go now. 

“Can I kiss you?” Harvey asked, barely above a whisper.

Your ears began to ring. 

What in the fresh hell were you just telling yourself in your head? Your internal monologue of self-sabotage dissolved faster than the antacid you knew you’d have to take in the morning. 

“About damn time,” you said, considerably more enthusiastic than he expected. 

His head whipped to you as you clamped your mouth shut. 

“Wh-What do you mean?” he puttered, his arms relaxing. 

“Harvey, I’ve had a thing for you since the day I caught you in aerobics. You couldn’t tell?”

“But… but that was so not…“

“What? Hot? Harvey, you were wearing shorts. Have you seen how hot your thighs are?”

“Oh my Yoba,” he almost whimpered, moving to hide his head in his hands. 

“Don’t get shy on me now!” You laughed, pulling his arm away to reveal his beet red face broken out in laughter. “Seriously, Harvey!”

“I can’t believe you thought that was hot.”

“Sexy, even, if we’re having a moment of honesty.” You laughed along. “If I’m telling you, you gotta tell me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” he pulled away with more laughter.

“Unfair!” you bantered with a playfully dropped jaw. “I just totally called your thighs sexy!”

“You can’t judge me when I tell you, okay?” He simmered down a little. You nodded obediently, wiggling to situate yourself with your hands on your lap, very patiently. Harvey looked at you, biting the inside of his cheek before finding the tree ahead of him very interesting. “Your first check up.”

“No fucking way!” you yelled, composed posture breaking. “You little pervert!”

“No, not like that!” he lightheartedly defended through his amusement. “You were so cute, and so nervous. You said it was because it was your first time to the doctors in a while but your chart said you had been the month before you moved to the valley. Also, your arms are super strong and-”

“I knew it!” you teased, blushing just as wildly as he. “You think I’m hot!” 

Harvey turned to you as you laughed again, his own simmering down with a sense of  relaxation and remembrance, recalling your presence on the day you first met, the way his breath hitched as you introduced yourself, bringing in your records to sign up as a patient. 

“No, that wasn’t it, actually.” he breathed, situating himself back into the bench, a leg coming up as his arm slid atop the back. “I knew it from the moment I first saw you. Before you even told me your name.” 

You couldn’t help but sit up straight at the confession, this taking a much more serious turn than you expected. Your heartrate didn’t cease to reflect that. 

“You came into the clinic like the first crocus in the snow. I knew warmer days were ahead when you smiled, and that they were here to stay when you said hello. You told me your name, and I haven’t thought of a word in any language as meaningful since.”

Your mouth parted as you let out a breathless gasp, the little air in your lungs swept away by his words. 

“All that said, though, you’re hotter than the sun…”

“Oh my yoba,” you boisterously laughed, the sound echoing off the nearby trees and through Harvey’s ribcage. He laughed with you, albeit much quieter, much preferring to hear your voice over his own. Your hand found its way over your mouth, trying to quiet yourself down, but Harvey reached across to you, entwining his hand with yours. 

“Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?”

“Please do,” you shook your head as you breathed out your answer, the two of you leaning in to greet the twin tastes of tequila and tobacco upon each other's lips. Neither of you needed much encouragement to find your hands much more than intertwined, grabbing at his tie to bring him closer as he pulled you by your waist. You two couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, your teeth clacking together as you laughed into one another breathlessly. Eventually, breathlessness superseded the kiss, your foreheads leaning together. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, Harvey,” you breathed out, “truth be told, long before the aerobics incident.”

“Calling that an ‘incident’ is crazy,” he laughed again, “but go on.”

“Ahh, I'm so embarrassed by it! It’s not, like, an appropriate moment for me to have felt that way…” you pleaded. 

“I think we’re a little past that now…” Harvey assured you, bringing a hand to rest on your cheek. 

“Okay…” you sucked in a breath, looking away. “You might not remember, but it was at Evelyn and George’s, when I stopped in with the tulips…”

“The home visit, oh I remember. Only time George has ever taken my advice, and it was because of you.” 

“Yeah! That day… you were so, so patient with him. Having only just moved into my grandpa’s a few months before, I had a lot of memories about him in his last years resurfacing. And that care, attention, patience… all of those things you gave to George… Those are things my grandpa really needed then. It made me realize so much about my priorities in life, the people I surround myself with, the kind of person I’d want to grow to such an age with… that you were that kind of person.” You bit your lip, unable to worry about saying too much. It was already said. “I’m sorry that wasn’t as, uh, poetic of a confession…”

“You’d want to…” Harvey almost panted again, his breath hitching in his throat as his brows furrowed. 

“Ah, sorry, maybe that was a bit too much to share…” you attempted to backtrack, but Harvey pulled your chin to face him before you could get out another word. Your heart fluttered at his focused gaze, his chest heaving as if you’d just stepped off of the dancefloor. Whatever you’d just said flipped a switch in his demeanour. 

“I’m going to kiss you again.” He panted. “After that, we’re going to go back to the hotel. From there, you decide what happens. We go to sleep and talk this through another day, or-”

“Definitely Or,” you leaned into him without question, placing a far more intentional display of affection on his suddenly stoic lips. There was no more clacking of teeth or escaped breaths from giggles. In that moment, your lips pushed firmly against one another, a message displayed so clearly that it signaled the two of you to find your way back to the hotel with haste. 

--

The door swung open behind you as Harvey continued to kiss you, grabbing him by his tie again to both prevent you from falling and guide him to the edge of the king sized bed. 

“Wait,” Harvey breathed into you as you reached the bed, the back of your knees almost buckling, threatening to send you backwards. You broke apart from him heatedly, your own breath needed a moment to catch up with the sudden relocation. The two of you breathed hard in such close proximity, your hands flattening his loose tie over his wrinkled shirt. “I want to do this right.”

You sighed a little, almost in an expended laugh, but decided to hold back against questioning. If you’d learned anything tonight, it’s that Harvey rarely did anything without intention. Whatever he was thinking was in your best interest.

“Okay,” you breathed, a gentle smile finding your face. “I trust you.” 

His heart squeezed at your display of confidence in him. He’d had plenty of time to think long and hard about how he’d treat you in a moment of mutual passion. Your eyes, although patient and listening, told him loud and clear. 

Tell me.

Looking down to his feet for just a moment, he pulled off his glasses and folded them, placing them on the desk just behind. He returned his attention to you, grip tightening on your waist as he ever slightly tilted his chin up, looking down to you over his beautiful large nose. 

“I could keep you like this forever,” he breathed, running his hands over your bare arms, bringing them up to your cheeks. “Looking at me like that.”

“I could say the same,” you whispered back, closing your eyes and leaning into one of his hands. His breath quickened as you looked back to him through your lashes, a cheeky smile slipping through your earnest disposition. 

“Gosh,” he breathed, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’ve thought about this time and time again… what would happen if I ever got the chance… what I would do to you,” he trailed off, feeling himself harden against his trousers at the thought. “Now that I have you here, I don’t know where to start.”

You smiled audaciously, biting at your lip. 

“I have an idea,” you began, hands sliding up his chest, feeling him shiver beneath you. You kept your eyes on his as you unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, taking a moment to brush the backs of your fingers along the bottom of his abdomen. You could see him tense under the dark line of hair, the path to your wants and needs, and you couldn’t help but suck in a breath at the feeling. 

Harvey stilled your hands as you grasped at his belt buckle, shaking his head with a  gentle ‘not yet’  before removing his shirt and sliding his tie off. He found your lips again and gently led you backwards onto the bed.

You released a few gentle moans as he trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest, just to where your shirt stopped above your breasts. He helped you pull it over your head, bra following it, before laying you back down, kissing intently yet softly at your breasts. The cool air of the hotel stiffened your nipples immediately, garnering Harvey’s diligence. His tongue slipped out atop your nipple, the wet feeling making your hand find the back of his head as you groaned out. He pinched at the other; softly first, as if testing the waters, before going at it again a little harder. Your back arched into him in response, making him glance up at you while continuing his treatment.

Your lips parted at the crossroads of ecstasy, eyes shut but not clamped, hot breath escaping through the gentle whimpers you let out. This was what he wanted, waited for, for so long. He groaned against your breast, beckoning a stronger one out of you as the vibration made a divine stimulation. You almost whined as you felt him leave your chest, but looking down to see him reaching for your waistband made you shut right up. You sat partially to help him leverage your pants off, watching as his eyes fixated themselves on your panties. You blushed, more than already necessary, at the realization. You were still wearing a thong, the spare pair you brought so as not to show panty lines beneath your wedding guest dress. You didn’t get a chance to explain before he sat back, discarding your pants behind him, and gave you the most hot-blooded look of astonishment you’d ever seen on a man’s face. 

“You were wearing these all night long?” he whimpered, his finger tracing along their lacy edge at the corner of your thigh. His desirous stupor made you clench over air. “Fuck,” he sighed, falling back down to your hips, placing a kiss over your lower stomach before bringing his mouth over your barely covered heat. 

“I think I’ll have to wear these more often,” you playfully spoke, propping yourself up onto your elbows as he rubbed his fingers gently over your clothed folds. 

“Please, oh, please,” he could barely speak above a whisper as his head fell against your thigh, moving the tiny piece of fabric to the side. The air hit you with an extra chill, letting you know just how wet he’d made you. Harvey’s breath caught again as he exhaled against you. He brought a finger over them, getting a feel for just how wet you were, the sensation sending a chill across your whole body. 

Harvey wasted no further time basking in your resplendence, sending his exploratory finger into your yearning pussy. 

Your eyes rolled a little, focusing on the new feelling of his finger gliding within you. He felt around diligently, eyes flicking up to your face as he tested each spot, until your nose scrunched a little against a certain area. 

“There we go,” he purred against you, placing a gentle kiss to your clit as he caressed the same spot again. Your chest heaved and he could feel you clench against his finger, beginning to draw small circles over your clit with his tongue. You let yourself fall backwards, elbows giving out as he immediately assessed your hidden need. His pace quickened upon your face disappearing from his vision, a second finger finding its way inside before your legs began to respond. He held your waist down with his free hand, secretly thanking Yoba for giving him a reason not to touch himself then and there. 

“H-” you croaked, “Harvey, mm soo,”

“Go on,” he groaned into you, that same vibration making your body quiver, “I wanna taste you.”

“Oh fuck, Harvey, fuck!” you whined out loudly, hips pushing against his pressing arm as the stimulation brought you over the cloudline. He groaned again, feeling you squeeze against his slowing fingers. 

Your breathing evened as you felt your heartbeat across your body, looking down to see Harvey staring up at you in a lust-drunk trance, your wetness across his lips and chin. He found your eyes and immediately brought his hands under your thighs and over your hips, sliding you to the edge of the bed. He leaned down and gave the taste of you to your own lips in a series of sloppy kisses, hairy chest radiating heat over your exposed body, pulling away to stand and look down on you.

Beneath him, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy, bare chest adorned by the full color of your stimulated nipples, rising and falling. He did the thing again, raising his chin ever so slightly as he took you in. Slowly, his hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it and discarding it Yoba knows where, all while maintaining steadfast eye contact with you. You brought yourself back onto your shoulders to get a better look, eyes breaking away from him reluctantly as he unzipped his pants and sent them to the floor. 

You couldn’t help but salivate at the immense girth that revealed itself, an eyebrow quirking upwards as you pictured the sensation of that rubbing up against the same spot his fingers found. Without question, you brought your knees up to your chest, spreading them out slowly, your fingers widening on your inner thighs.  

What an invitation. A flower opening up to be pollinated, fertilized. The sweetest of fruits in a beautiful garden, beckoning him to enter. 

He didn’t though, at least not yet, as he leaned down over you once again, inspecting your begging features with such earnestness before placing one more gentle kiss upon your lips. You gasped into him as you felt him breach your entrance, your soaking walls stretching wide to welcome him. He gasped again, eyes glued to yours as he slowly found himself fully sheathed within you. Your eyebrows quivered as he retracted, slowly letting himself out before entering fully again, faster and faster. You both groaned into each other as he found a pace, the sound of your union echoing off the high-rise windows. 

He was significantly more vocal than you expected, soft moans parting his lips and going into yours, your own like echoes of his lustful cries. Your legs closed over his back, ankles locking him over you as he found that spot again, his hips kicking it up a notch. Your arms flew under his and over his back, wrapping your hands around his shoulders at the heightened momentum. 

You whispered praises to each other, both of you emphasising just how good one was making the other feel. Harvey couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, tracking your reactions with every thrust, even when you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. He could feel you inching closer to another orgasm around him, your walls quivering around his aching cock. He grit his teeth as you clenched further, your orgasm washing over you with so much force that your legs tightened around him. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t fight against you as you brought him into you, letting himself release at the deepest point. You both moaned into a kiss, sloppy and panting as he fully stilled within you, his arms resting by your head. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as Harvey rested his head atop yours, pulling himself out, the sound of your mixed orgasms echoing your words. He collapsed beside you, falling on his side to face you and rub a thumb over your cheek. He was still watching you as you turned onto your side to face him as well. 

“You alright, darling?” he questioned, thumbing at a bead of sweat atop your temple. The name almost made you ready for another round, but you opted for a gentle smile instead.  

“I’ve literally never been better,” you breathed, running a hand over his hairy chest. He grabbed it gently, bringing it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said against your hand before quickly standing up, finding his briefcase thrown off the bed where he’d placed it before. 

“What are you doing?” You called, rolling over a little to see him looking through the bag clumsily.

“Aha,” he cheered quietly before returning to you, tissues in one hand and a couple of suspiciously shaped foil packets containing something round. 

“You’re so sweet, Harvey, but isn’t it a bit late for a condom?” 

He laughed as he left the tissues on the bed before walking over to the bathroom, returning monetarily with two glasses of fizzing water. 

“They’re antacids, for the alcohol. Drink up,” he handed you a glass and clinked his own against yours before. You chuckled as you drank, not wasting a moment to wonder how the hell he knew you were thinking of taking one. He finished his quickly and grabbed the tissues from the bed, scooting over to you and placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Can I help you clean up?”

“Ah, I was thinking I might just go ahead and take a shower,” you thought aloud, wincing a little at the flavor of the sodium bicarbonate. Harvey cocked his head to the side with a smile. 

“Can I help you clean up?”

You laughed as you placed your cup on the nightstand, coming back to him with a nod and a kiss. The two of you moved into the bathroom, leaving the bedroom in the light of the city, shining through the windows like rays of sun shining through leaves. 

You found yourselves basked in that light later, bodies intertwined beneath the sheets in a deep rest. That was until the sound of horns honking from the street below awoke you, followed shortly by some sharp knocks at the door. A muffled voice called out in anger, urging you to shove Harvey’s lightly snoring form.

“Sm’one’s at th’door,” you groaned into the dawn-lit room, turning around as Harvey stirred awake. He groaned, opting to wrap his arms around you instead. 

“It’s just fuckin’ Dave.”

[asmobeuses]

𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨.

synopsis: Noir wasn't expecting a pretty thing like you drinking your woes away in a bar. Maybe he could keep you company?

Warnings: AFAB!reader (feminine terms such as lady, gal. inherently feminine compliments such as pretty,), infidelity, comfort to angst, drinking, cigarette smoking, obvious one-night stand (not written), suggestive, reader consents before they both continue to drink, probably OOC Noir, NOT PROOF READ. lmk if I missed anything <3

As late as it was, you found yourself wandering into a bar. Something, anything to get your mind off what you walked in on would do. You sat down and ordered some bourbon. Your eyes scanned the bar, seeing if you could find some eye candy to occupy your ever-racing mind. A certain patron in a long, collared coat fumbling around in his pocket caught your gaze.

“Fuck,” the unlit cigarette bobbed in his mouth with every word he spoke, “where’d it go? I swear to god it was just in my pocket.”

The man was conventionally attractive. He wasn't too scrawny, but not too muscular. His black hair in a neat swoop complimented his chiseled face and tall stature perfectly. 

“Lookin’ for something?” You called out in his direction, hoping he’d take notice of you.

Noir glanced at you, a small grin gracing his features. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ve misplaced my lighter.” He says, muffled. He pulls the cigarette out from his mouth before continuing. “You wouldn’t happen to have one on ya? It's been a long day and a smoke would be nice.”

You pulled out a lighter and a cigarette from the bottom of your purse. You motioned for him to come sit down.

He sat down and leaned in. “Well aren’t you a sweetheart?” The smile on his face told you that he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 

You put the cigarette up to your lips and lit it, but instead of simply using the lighter for his, you leaned in closer, touching the end of your cigarette with his own. Your eyes were locked onto his the whole time, catching him off guard.

His eyes widened, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. He couldn’t help but feel appreciative of the proximity, even if it only lasted a little while. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke. 

“You sure know how to make a man feel lucky,” the grin on his face was laced with amusement, “what’s your name, darlin’?” He was eager to engage in conversation with you.

You chuckled at his question, deciding to play hard to get. "Ah, but revealing my name soooo soon would spoil all the fun, wouldn't it? You'll have to work a little harder to uncover that secret." Your voice carried a hint of a compelling challenge, inviting him to engage in the game of unraveling your mysteries.

He silently accepted her challenge. “Ah ah, two can play it that game,” he winked, “in that case, you can call me whatever you’d like.” His voice held a hint of suggestion. “Anyway, a pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t be here without some company. ‘S too dangerous. What brings you here? You look like you’re sulkin’.”

“Well handsome,” that was the name you chose for him, considering he was playing the same game you were, “ ‘M here because I don't wanna be at home right now.” Your vague words held a certain weight to them, but Noir looked at the wedding band you were fidgeting with on your finger and was able to put two and two together.

“Infidelity?” He inquired, expression turning soft.

“And with his boss. Now, ain’t that just comical?” You dryly laughed. You spoke with a bitter intonation, causing Noir to frown at your sorrow. He reached out, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. Nobody deserves to be treated that way,” his voice filled with uncut sympathy. “Y’know what? Sometimes a little distraction is okay, even when it's temporary. Hows about I keep you company for the night, help you forget about everything?”

His hand moved from your arm, but the intense eye contact remained. “I can't fix everything, but I can do enough to put that pretty smile back on your face, hm?”

You groaned, frustrated with everything. “Nothing would amount to his entrails being on the lawn right now.”

Despite how gruesome the remark was, he found himself captivated by your dark humor. He chuckled, “Killing may not be the best way to deal with this … tempting as it may sound.” His head rested on the back of his palm. “Let me be your distraction, take your mind off things,” he repeated, “we’ll have a few drinks, talk a little more, and who knows? Maybe we can even make your cheating husband regret putting someone as pretty as you through the betrayal. Pleasure is a wonderful diversion” His mischievous lilt caused your thoughts to dance around the appealing possibilities of this night’s end.

“Now now, I’m not an easy gal. I don't just lay with the first handsome man to say hi t’me. It’ll take a little more convincing than just empty promises.” you challenged his vows of pleasure.

His eyes sparkled as his voice dropped down, low and seductive. “I wouldn't expect anything less from a beauty as alluring as you. I’m not one to make empty promises. That’s something you can learn very quickly. I assure you, the pleasure I offer is far from empty. 

His finger made rounds around the rim of his glass, sending suggestive shivers down your spine.. “I aim to satisfy, in every sense of the word, but it’s no fun if I don't have to work for it.”

“Your confidence alone is almost enough.” You joked.

“My confidence isn’t all I have going for me,” he winked, “but I don't want you to give in too easily. I want to earn every moment. Let us savor the journey, and make tonight one neither of us will forget.”

You were beginning to grow flustered by his words. “Quite the charmer there, aren’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

His smile only grew more confident. “Why, thank you, dear. I do aim to please,” he replied, “but there's no need to be nervous. Just relax, allow me to show you a night of indulgence.” He flicked the rim of his glass, meeting your eyes with the sound of the clink. “Let me take care of you tonight. Let me make you feel things never before felt. I can assure you won't regret it.”

Your legs pressed together as you were lost in thought. After a few moments, you gently whispered, “I..may just take you up on that offer.”

His eyes flickered with a mixture of anticipation and satisfaction. He leaned in closer, voice laced with raw desire, “perfect..”

Your Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes following.

“Let’s head somewhere more private, yeah?”

You eagerly nodded and followed him out of the bar. He was making his way to the motel down the street. Once you arrived, he quickly paid for a room and led you to it. 

In a couple swift movements, the door was locked and his lips found purchase on your own, moving in sync. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you could only pray he didn’t hear it. He pulled away and began removing his coat, you could only stare at his body through the well-fitted collared shirt.

His eyes met your own and he looked as if he was in a trance. He grabbed you with a lustful urgency, one hand on your waist and the other in your hair. “It's like.. You have me under a spell. I can't resist those enchanting eyes of yours. I want to fulfill every one of your desires tonight.”

You gave him full control, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. Your voices mixed into a symphony of intimacy, swirling into the air around you, forming the most beautiful song. Noir’s eyes followed your body’s every movement, his intense gaze pushing you over the edge time and time again.

Coming down from your highs, you felt nothing but pure bliss. Though, as Noir held you, your mind began to wander to your husband. You knew what lay in store before you indulged in Noir, but you couldn't help but let the tears fall at his tenderness and attention. You began to crave him beyond sex. You thought about how your husband never looked at you the way Noir did, never took your well-being or satisfaction into account. He only craved what would benefit him and him alone.

Noir’s expression softened, his understanding of your feelings deepening. He gently wiped away the tears, his touch infused with empathy and care. “I see you, sweetheart. I see your needs, your desires, and I'm here to fulfill them. To show you the love and attention you deserve.” 

Noir embraced you as if to shield you from all the pain and neglect you had endured. He wanted to be the one to heal the wounds inflicted upon your heart and soul. He wanted to show you the genuine and unwavering kind of love. He understood the complexity of your emotions, the yearning for more than just physical intimacy. 

It was then, when Noir realized his encounter with you held more weight than just a simple, fleeting fling. The tightening of his hold on your trembling body was instantaneous when the comprehension of his heart’s desire came to fruition.

He fell in love, and it all happened in a single night.

“With me, you will always be prioritized, both in and out of the bedroom.” From that moment, Noir vowed to be the sanctuary you sought, the embodiment of love and passion that would wash away past wounds. He wanted to be the partner you deserved, to protect and cherish you, whether it be in moments of intense passion or tender silence.

"Thank you, Noir." As you sobbed into his chest, your words held some sadness to them, as you believed this would be the first and last time you saw him.

Noir held you tightly in his embrace, his heart aching at the sound of your sobs. He knew how bittersweet this interaction would become, and it only reinforced his determination to make this moment with you as meaningful as possible.

"You don't need to thank me, my dear," he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. "I'm here for you, and I always will be. No matter what happens, you'll always have a place in my heart."

In that moment, he wished he could offer you more, wish he could mend the brokenness in your life and give you the love and happiness you deserve. But he understood the complexities of the situation, the circumstance that kept you apart.

Noir cradled you gently, his touch offering solace and comfort amidst the turmoil of emotions. He cherished this moment, knowing that it was fleeting, yet forever etched in his heart.

"You deserve so much happiness," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "Don't settle for anythin’ less. No matter where life takes us, always remember the love we shared in this moment."

With a final tender kiss, Noir held you close, silently promising to cherish the memory of your time together and hoping that one day, fate would grant you both the opportunity to find happiness in each other's arms once more.

You fought your drowsiness, not wanting this moment to end. Unfortunately, you lost, succumbing to the wishful embrace of slumber.

Though, the love you felt rivaled that of any other.

Noir woke up the next morning to find himself alone in the bed, his senses immediately alert to the absence of your presence. As he looked around, he noticed the emptiness of the space beside him, the sheets that were devoid of the warmth he somehow grew accustomed to in one night.

A mixture of longing and a bittersweet ache filled his heart, knowing that this encounter was meant to be just a fleeting moment in time. He couldn't help the tinge of sadness that settled in, his thoughts filled with memories of the passionate night you had shared.

As his gaze fell upon his wrist, Noir's lips curled into a tender smile. There, in a sweet and simple gesture, was evidence of your presence, a lipstick mark left behind—brown and distinct. A loving reminder of the connection you had forged.

He gently touched the mark with his fingertips, cherishing the moment captured within its staining color. It spoke volumes, a testament to the intimacy shared, the vulnerability and passion that had filled the night.

Knowing that nothing lasts forever, Noir held onto the memory of your time together, the way you had touched his heart, and the love that had surged between you. He vowed to carry this experience with him always, a cherished chapter in his life.

With the bittersweet taste of farewell lingering in his heart, Noir showed one last smile toward the lipstick mark on his wrist. It was a farewell, but also a silent promise to treasure the mark you left on his soul, forever grateful for the love and connection you shared, even if it was just for one unforgettable night.

ok so. hi!!! this has been in my drafts unfinished since summer so my hyperfixation on the Spiderverse has kinda died, so i wont be writing for the SV for a good while. it'll prob be back with the release of Beyond the Spiderverse. BUTTTTTTT im fixated on blue lock and Jujutsu Kaisen rn so i may write a little for those.

uhh requests open hmm idk what else i should add here

oh also the title is the link to the song i listened to during the making of this

M.list <— if you enjoy my silly works, I have more here!

[monochromaticbeans]

🌸 Where the Blossoms Fell

A recurring dream has haunted Sanzu Haruchiyo since age fifteen, when he crossed paths with Mochizuki Sayuri, a shrine maiden in training at Musashi Shrine. Years later, as Bonten's Number Two, the dream becomes more frequent, eventually pushing him to find her, knowing she's connected to it somehow. Together, they uncover the meaning of their shared recurring dream.

Their past lives together as a samurai and shrine maiden ended with a tragedy and a promise. Will that vow carry on into their current incarnations or will it, too, end in despair?

Chapter 1: Petals in the Wind

Cherry petals fall,

Kagura bells softly ring—

Her face in the haze.

The blade heavy in his hands,

A shadow slipping away.

Sanzu jolted awake, his bedsheets clinging to his sweaty skin as his heart races. The penthouse is dead silent, save for his heavy, ragged breathing and the soft pattering of rain on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The neon lights of Tokyo reflect in the raindrops as they roll down the glass, turning the view of the city into a shimmering curtain.

“Fuck…” he croaked, sitting up in the bed with a desert in his mouth. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to clear the images from his head. The petals, the bells, the blood. The same dream yet again.

He reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, drawing one out and lighting it with a shaky hand. That same dream had been following him since he was fifteen years old—when he first saw her.

Spring of 2005. Musashi Shrine. Low music and the tinkling of bells. He followed the sound to the back of the shrine, finding a girl with a portable stereo practicing kagura dance. He watched her, silently, over the top of his black mask, his arms crossed while he leaned against a pillar.

Her movements were graceful and her expression was one of calm determination. Something about her fascinated but unsettled him at the same time, and he wasn't sure why. That night, the dreams started. Blossoms and bells.

Sanzu took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke as he gazed through the rainbow curtain of rain rolling down the window. The past several months, the dreams came more often and with more disturbing details, leaving him with a sense of guilt, longing, and something else he couldn't quite articulate.

Blood and death meant little to him these days, except when he was in the middle of it all, dishing it out with sadistic delight. Relishing in it. So, why in the hell would a dream about it make him almost melancholic?

***

“Are you brooding?”

The question caught him off guard. Sanzu whipped around, eyebrow raised. He quickly recovered, painting his usual smirk on his face. “Nah… No brooding here.”

“Really?” Manjiro asked flatly. “Then why do you look like the textbook definition?”

“No, I don't.” Sanzu reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. They weren't there. His brow furrowed as he patted his other pockets, confused.

“Behind you.” Manjiro gestured, jutting his chin towards the missing cigarettes.

Sanzu turned, eyes falling onto the pack with his lighter beside it. On the table, right where he left them.

“You're brooding and you're distracted.” The hint of warning in Manjiro's tone told Sanzu he'd better get his shit together.

Sanzu didn't make eye contact as he lit the cigarette, tucking both the lighter and the pack in his right pants pocket. “I just haven't been sleeping all that great,” he said, only giving half of the truth.

“Maybe you should cut back on your… pharmaceuticals.” With that, Manjiro dismissed him.

He mentally kicked himself for his lack of focus. Manjiro was right, Sanzu just didn't want to admit it. It was that goddamn dream that kept haunting him—almost every night now.

He flopped down on the couch in his office, glancing at the katana cradled in its display. How much blood had it drawn over the years? Maybe enough to fill a swimming pool, maybe not. But the thought of that much blood didn't phase him as much as the puddle in the dream. It grew, blossoming like a rose underneath her body as held her.

“Enough of this shit,” he grumbled, opening his phone and scrolling to the contact: Mochi. He wasted no time with superfluous greetings, he got straight to the point.

“Where's your cousin Sayuri?”

***

Mochizuki Sayuri arrived at Musashi Shrine just as the sun peeked its red face over the horizon, purifying herself before she began her daily duties as a miko. The soft spring breeze caressed her cheek, gentle as a mother's touch. Sayuri closed her eyes for a moment, smiling as she returned the spirits’ greeting.

The cherry blossoms, just reaching the height of their blooming season, always filled her with a bittersweet joy. Their beauty, fleeting as it is, served as a reminder of the permanence of impermanence. That all good things eventually must come to an end. But like the cherry blossoms, there's the promise for them to return if one is patient enough.

As she gazed up at the pink canopy of blossoms and the morning sky painted in streaks of peach and purple, a sense of sadness washed over her. Maybe it was because of the dreams, because they came so often these days.

She couldn't recall much, the details always evaporated from her mind as she woke up. Only the images of sunlight filtering through cherry blossoms, a katana, and his eyes remained.

***

Sanzu tore his closet apart, flinging clothing and boxes around like they owed him money.

“Where the hell is it?” he growled in frustration. He kept it, he was certain of it. There wasn't much he held onto from back then, and this was one of those rarities he hid away, buried somewhere safe. But, fuck if he could remember where that somewhere safe was.

He sat back, leaned against the wall, a sheen of sweat on his face. He'd completely wrecked the closet—pulled out every box, dumped out each drawer, basically thrown everything everywhere and left the world's biggest mess for the cleaning lady.

Letting out a groan and resting the back of his head on the wall, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. That's when he finally saw it. Right above his head, just at the edge of the highest shelf.

Wiping off the layer of several years’ worth of dust, he lifted the lid from the small box. There it was—the protection omamori she gave him right before the whole Tenjiku incident.

“Here, I want you to have this,” she'd said, holding the small charm delicately in her hands. “It'll keep you safe.”

He turned it over in his hand, running his thumb over the purple and silver embroidery, supposing it'd done its job well enough. “I'm not dead yet.”

[anna1306]

Hey can you please

Write me an poly! Lost boys x reader and the reader keeps showing up with crutches and a Broken ankle (Because I Did that and had an X-ray done! I tripped on a Tile on the Sidewalk and Broke My ankle I was also wearing platform shoes)

Like I know you did a similar piece of art! Like that but maybe a clumsy S/O?

Poly!Lost Boys x Clumsy Reader (GN)

Human body is fragile. Boys know this based on the nights of killing and how simple that is for them. Boys know it from you, since you would tell them if anything happened to you, how and for how long it would be this way. But...

It was like it's been half a year now since you broken your foot. And even with their minimal knowledge of human anatomy and two brains for the four of them, they knew something was definitely wrong.

When you showed up with crutches one more time, smiling at them, as you slowly, but steadily made you way to them at the Boardwalk, David flicked his cigarette away, even though it was only lit.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Uh... What?

You broke your foot almost seven months ago, why are you still in that thing?! - he was angry at that, worry added to that mix. You just looked at him dumbfounded

Stop screaming, - Dwayne sighed. - Y/N, is there something wrong with your foot? With your bones? Why doesn't it heal?

Wait... You think that this is the same trauma as I had half a year ago? - you looked between them, the realisation slowly sinking in. You let out surprised laugh. - Guys, you are as smart, as you are dumb... This isn't even the same leg!

Wait... What? - Marko furrowed his brows, clearly not understanding why and how and what happened. You could hear the clogs turning in his mind. You snickered at this, shaking your head.

You are lucky you're cute, otherwise I would be disappointed in dating you. This is my third trauma this year, come on, - you giggled, wobbling to him, when your good leg slipped on the wood and you almost fell face-first to the floor. Luckily Paul was near you catching you. - I need to go everywhere with you, you are officially my lucky charm, - you laughed, looking at him with a smile, clearly not phased by this.

For you and your friends this is joke. Don't let Y/N go alone, or they would stumble on the perfectly normal straight place and break their neck. For the boys it is heart attack every time you stumble.

If it were up to David, he would just force you to drink the god damn bottle. Because every time you slip on something or doesn't see the post in front of you, his hair turn white naturally. But he has to respect your decision of being human for some reason (nod of appreciation from Dwayne). So he comes to the point, where he just takes you to the cave and - oh my, is it dawn already? Too bad we can't go out and you have to stay with us in perfectly safe and sound nest. What a shame, let me carry you there.

If Paul was a dog, he would be service dog. As he has a strange sense of upcoming danger. He throws one look at your direction, and he just stops you from going that way, because he knows you would slip there. He pulls you in other direction, leading you to safer way. If you are too stubborn and just tell him that you would be okay and he overreacts, he takes you in his arms and carries you to Marko to keep you occupied. Nope, he won't have any heart attack from the possibility of you going away from them, all angry and mad at them. You would hurt yourself.

Dwayne is carrying a lot of shit around. Lighters for David, weed for Paul, gum for Marko. Now he has first aid kit with him all the time. He knows that he can't change the fact that you are clumsy, it is you. So he just accepts it as a fact, respects it and deal with the consequences. He is the first to come to your aid, if Paul failed in his attempt to warn you. He studies books on human anatomy to understand whether you need to be taken to the hospital or they can deal with it. Also he is on guard with David, checking your food and drinks before you eat. He knows everyone in the coven is worried for you, but tea with blood, dude, seriously?

Marko knows what it's like. He can be so entertained with something he wouldn't notice anything around him. He bumps into posts, people and a lot of things as a whole. That is the main reason for his conflicts and fights. But unlike him you could be hurt and affected by it. So he distracts you. He makes you laugh, talks with you, takes you to rides or to sit with his pigeons. He is the best in distractions. Not the best with open wounds though, he has the least control. But he supports from over that far corner, while Dwayne patches you up.

They are worried, but at least now they know they have to help you be more careful. And if they are late, and you break something again, Marko is ready to draw on casket, while David gives you grumpy looks, Paul worryingly run around and Dwayne actually helps you. At least it's funny.

And if David thinks your clumsiness would go away with being immortal vampire, he's in for a surprise. You are still falling and bumping. It's just less dangerous for your body now.

The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet @iloveslasher @twistedharper

[dead-not-sleeping123]

Uhhh so when I joined tumblr I never imagined I’d be writing fanfic for a dnd actual play podcast, much less one called dungeon and daddies. But here we are I guess. Please enjoy my first ever fanfic. It’s based on the really cool comic by @awnrii

Nick Foster stood outside with his back against the wall letting the cool night air wash over him. He had stepped out back of the party he was attending  to smoke a cigarette. A convenient get away when stuff inside got too rowdy. Don’t get him wrong Nick loved a good throw down, he was a demon after all, but sometimes the dads could be a lot especially when they were all in one place. So he stood outside, feeding his terrible habit, and enjoying the calm. 

The party in question was nothing special, just the annual daddies get together. While the dads had all remained close, the sons had drifted apart. Not for any particular reason, that’s just what happens when you reach your early twenties, childhood trauma doesn’t bond you together forever. This party however is the first time everyone has been in one place in several years. So yeah, things were getting pretty rowdy inside. 

That’s when he noticed Lark escaping from the same door he had come out of, walking towards him, rummaging around his pockets for his own cig. 

Lark leaned against the wall next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. 

“Loud in there huh” making conversation with the Oak’s could be a bit of a mixed bag, but hey Lark was always his favorite. 

“Same boat” 

“Ha yea” 

Nick took a moment to observe the Oak twin next to him. Once it had been impossible to tell Lark and Sparrow apart, now it was impossible to confuse them. Both still had their fathers sandy brown hair and green eyes of course but the forgotten realms had changed them. It was their demeanor that was different, the way they carried themselves and interacted with the world. Sparrow rushed to make friends, would do anything to keep the peace, he wanted the world to know how much love he had. For Lark it was the intensity. He had an anger to him, angry at the world, at his father, at himself. It was those same angry intense green eyes that are currently glaring at a lighter refusing to light a cigarette. 

“Got a light” 

“Dude seriously, I am the light”  

With a flick Nick's finger lit up with fire. Sparrow rolled his eyes but accepted the light without any further fanfare. After blowing out his fingers as if it were a cool smoking gun the two settled into a comfortable silence, each enjoying their own cigarettes. 

“Look at you lighting cigs for me. You used to be such a narc. Crazy how much you’ve changed” 

“What’s with all the existential talk? Of course I was a narc, my dad was a cop” 

It was true, he had changed since their time in the forgotten realms, quite a bit actually. Once he had been a goodie two shoes, quick to narc, to the point the dads had called him narcolas. At the time it had really annoyed him, now it’s just funny. Currently though he had fully embraced his demon side, becoming the kind of person his childhood self would’ve hated. He could’ve never imagined having long shaggy hair dyed blue at the ends with hell fire, or the blue horn, or the blue tail. Blue had kinda become his brand….

“I’m being serious, you’ve changed” 

“I mean of course I’ve changed, but it’s weird ya know? I feel like I was always gonna turn out like this. I dunno” while Nick couldn’t have predicted ‘this’ he liked being a demon who loved to party, smoke cigarettes (or that dank kush), and was generally rad in a rebellious way. “I mean you’ve changed too, we all have” when Lark didn’t answer he added “right?” 

“You’re wrong” there was a long pause, too dramatic for Nick’s taste “I haven’t changed” at that Nick could swear he could see something in Lark’s shadow, something powerful and angry “I’m leaving, see you around Nick” 

“Wait Lark…” Lark stopped but didn’t turn around “no no you’re right, deep down you’re still a scared little kid aren’t you” 

“I’m not scared of anything, never have been” an obvious lie on Lark’s part, Nick had seen him in the halls of the omega daddies castle. Both the twins could put up a brave front, but even that had to drop sometimes. 

“Do you wanna get out of here, unless you’re too scared” Nick gave Lark a wink at that 

“If you’re trying to goad me into coming with you it’s not going to work” another lie 

“Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. You’ve never backed down from a challenge. Plus my motorcycle is pretty sick” 

“Fine where are we going” 

“Back to my place? I got some cool swords from hell recently I think you’d like” 

“Sure” 

As Nick started to walk away towards his bike Lark stopped him “aren’t you gonna go back inside to say goodbye?” 

“Are you?” 

“Fair enough” 

Nick’s bike was bright blue to match the blue aesthetic being a demon had given him. He didn’t have a spare helmet, or any helmet at all. Another perk of being a demon was damage resistance and high hp. He figured Lark probably wouldn’t put on a helmet even if one was offered to him. 

“Hang on tight little birdie” Nick didn’t wait for whatever Lark’s response was, he started the ignition and let the roar of the engine drown everything out. 

[littlemissnoname13]

Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part two

Summary: Draco and y/n find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every single night

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: excessive smoking, mature language, mature themes, smut, female receiving, 18+ reader discretion is advised.

A/n: a big thank you to everyone that read part one. I adore each and every one of you and your feedback sm <3

at this point, I am projecting my cigarette cravings onto Draco Malfoy. Sorry. (Smoking is injurious to health)

Word count: 3000

You can read part one over here

Friday

When your eyes opened the next morning, you found your thoughts to be littered with the kisses you shared with Malfoy.

And even if you’d somehow managed to forget the way he suckled, bit and murmured onto your skin, you had purple hickeys marking your neck to remind you. 

This was a mistake. 

Frantically wrapping your green and silver scarf around your neck, you made a run towards your Potions class but before you could even make it to class, you found yourself pulled into a small gap in the wall making your body go into an instantaneous fight or flight mode. 

“What in the actual fuc—”

You were silenced with a kiss on your lips once again. 

Draco pushed you further up against the wall and moved his lips desperately against yours—kissing your mouth senseless. 

“Do you just lurk around in the hallways waiting to sneak up on people?!” You asked in a breathless whisper as his lips made contact with the base of your neck again after he’d loosened your scarf. 

“Only sometimes.” He smirked. 

The wetness that seeped in through your panties and all the way down your inner thighs was a tell tale sign, warning you to stay away from the abandoned classroom that night. 

And you did just that.

Even if you had reached for your door that night, Adrian’s sudden arrival ensured that you stayed away. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday

It was nearly four in the morning and anyone with a hint of sanity inside of them would have been fast asleep—if they could sleep through the ear-splitting sound of thunder that is. 

It had been raining for three consecutive nights and the sky was as clamorous and angry as ever. 

Draco scoffed to himself at the sound of sleep.

The whole idea now seemed so foreign to him. It was like he had forgotten what a good night's sleep even felt like. 

With his fourth cigarette for the night lit up and between his lips, He leaned against the glass window waiting for you to walk in wearing your insanely soft night dress that he simply couldn’t stop thinking about. 

Why was he waiting for you? 

It wasn’t like you were obliged to come to that classroom every night. 

It wasn’t like both of you now had an unspoken agreement that you’d meet up in this murky classroom to talk, make out—maybe even shag. 

How ravishing you’d look with your slip dress slipped off into a pool at your feet.

He couldn’t help but imagine you seated on the windowsill with your legs parted. He’d eat you out all night if he could. Lick up long, slow, deliberate licks up your slit and place soft, airy kisses along your inner thighs. 

The images of you straddling him with your tits  bouncing up and down as he pumped into you refused to leave his mind, leaving him all hot, bothered and frenzied with lust. 

Draco forced himself to snap out of his vision and shook his head, restraining himself from reaching towards the buttons of his trousers.

The rain clouds had started to clear up a bit and the sky had slowly started to change colours with the darkest shade of black on the top of the sky trickling down into shades of lighter blue indicating the break of day. 

He wanted to give himself hell for waiting up all night for you for the second time that week—infuriated with the way you made him feel. 

He wanted you out of his system—You and your stupid silk slip dress. 

Your stupid stupid stupid slip dress. 

But before he could even manage to make an exit from the classroom, you pounced right into him with a thud. 

The way you collided with him resembled the collision of opposite magnetic poles—powerful and inevitable. 

"Took you long enough." Draco breathed, holding you tightly against him as he desperately ran his hands along your sides feeling the fabric of your silky nightdress.

"I tried to stay away. I tried so hard." You whispered, and he instantly placed his lips onto yours furrowing his brows as you fiercely kissed him back.

“But I just couldn’t help myself.” You mumbled between kisses as he lifted you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso as he carried you. 

“Good.” 

Both of you knew there would be implications to your actions but that seemed like a problem for future Draco and y/n. 

You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moaned loudly when you felt him grip the exposed skin of your thigh—his fingertips and his ring dug deep into your skin making you hiss into the base of his neck from the sting of pleasure.

If he was going to go around leaving markings on your flesh, so would you. 

It was only fair. 

You went on ahead and sucked on his flesh as he carried you all the way to the window and sat you on the windowsill. 

Hastily tugging the straps of your nightie that had imprinted itself into his subconscious, he made the smooth fabric slide right off your body and into a pool on the floor. 

“Nothing underneath?” He chuckled gazing intently at your naked body making a pink flush appear on your face as you nodded closing your legs together and crossing your arms over your breasts. 

His vision just didn’t do justice to the sight in front of him. 

The sight you exposed, sitting timidly on the windowsill with rosy cheeks woke up something primal inside of him. 

You felt him kneel on the floor in front of you, parting your legs and gently moving your arms away from your body. 

“So fucking perfect.” Draco drew in a sharp breath before leaning in to capture your lips into his, brushing his hands over your shoulders, trailing all the way down your arms and back up again. “Don’t you dare cover yourself up.” 

There was an unusually strong taste of cigarettes fused into the flavor of what felt like mint and apples on his lips and you tried to extract every bit of it—running your tongue along his bottom lip earning a feral groan from him. 

He let his hands ghost around your breast—barely touching.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to.

He did.

So fucking bad.

But he wanted confirmation from you.

He wanted to know if you wanted this as much as he did. A sign, a sigh, a moan, anything. 

“Draco.”  You murmured into the kiss with your hands yanking on his black button down—fumbling with the buttons. 

Never had he ever heard a sweeter sound. 

Actually scratch that, your moans were even sweeter as he massaged and kneaded your breasts, tugging and pulling onto your hardened nipples. 

“Oh, Draco.” 

His given name on your swollen lips sounded like an invitation he simply couldn’t resist— so fucking innocent and mischievous at the same time. 

The lower his kisses trailed, the more incoherent your speech got. 

Wet, open mouthed, starved kisses that started along your jaw and down your neck moved lower and lower until you felt like you had forgotten every other word that wasn’t “Draco.”  Or fuck.

You felt his hot breath on your hardened nipple as he swirled his tongue around it—catching the left one in his mouth. You grabbed a fistful of his blonde hair as he started to suck and your moans only encouraged him to suck harder. 

He wanted to worship every square inch of your body, on his knees in front of you  like you were his only deity —repeating his licks on both of your nipples, occasionally stopping to litter dark purple bruises around your chest. 

Draco paused and looked up at you with his silvery greys. 

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t picture this exact scene in this head a thousand times over. 

Sure, your complete inability to stay quiet made him livid. 

Sure, the way you walked around in translucent white tops, absolutely unaware of the one too many curious onlookers pissed him off. 

Sure, he’d thought about pushing Adrian Pucey off his broom. 

But the way you sat on that window sill with your legs spread out—wetness dripping down your legs and your pretty little cunt glistening was straight out of Draco’s deepest darkest fantasy.

You arched your back bucking your hips forward and he smirked at your silent pleas.

And when the tip of his tongue gently massaged your clit, it was like your entire body was set ablaze.

You’d never felt that way before and he was just getting started—making you let out a sound even you didn’t know you were capable of making.

 It was somewhere along the lines of a moan and a gasp. Maybe a combination of both. 

After a long, slow torturous lick up your folds, he looked up at you. 

“You taste..” another slow lick “so fucking good.” 

“Please—Drac..Fuck—” 

You lost it when he started to eat you out. It was as if he was starved for this. 

He kitten licked, kissed and nipped you like he’d been waiting for this very moment—this moment with you on the windowsill with his blonde head in between your legs, fingers bunching his hair, calling out only his name with a plethora of other swears. 

And you slowly understood. 

You understood the screams coming from whoever he was shagging the other night. 

There was nothing tentative or hesitant in the way he moved his tongue. 

He knew what he was doing, he knew what he wanted, he wanted you.

“Draco—” You moaned jutting your hips forward when his tongue made contact with just the right spot. “Fuck— god Draco yes right there—ah-.” 

“Right here?” He teased as he continued to lick. With his grey eyes focused on you—the way you bit your lips and rolled your eyes back in pleasure. 

He wanted to remember it, recall and replay it in his mind for hours on end. 

He didn’t care about the mellow and golden rays of sunlight pouring in through the window glass you had your back rested against. 

He didn’t care about any fucking body or any fucking thing. 

You let out another laboured gasp when you felt him push his finger inside you. One finger at first, allowing you to get used to the sensation. 

And then he put in a second finger, the cold metal of his ring making contact with your sensitive skin. 

There was a strange feeling inside of your stomach. It was pressure—kind of like a knot waiting to snap. 

It was delicious. 

It had you begging for more. 

You simply couldn’t think of anything or anyone else. 

Whatever he was doing with his fingers and tongue—you just wanted more. 

“Please Draco—don’t stop.” 

The sounds you were making made him want to bend you over, press you against the window and fuck you mercilessly, but there was a part of him that reminded him that you deserved more than that. 

You deserved more than just a quick little fuck in this classroom. 

He wanted to take you, make you his, make you cum over and over again and although he wasn’t sure he could do the former in that particular moment in time, he sure as hell could do the latter. 

His fingers and tongue moved in perfect coordination. Each taste accompanied by his fingers pumping in and out of you. 

Draco knew you were close. He could tell by the way you gripped onto his hair while you clenched around his fingers. 

“Let yourself go y/n.” He murmured. “Yes, that’s it—good girl.” 

You felt the tight knot in your lower abdomen snap at his words, and you felt overcome with pleasure that made your legs spasm and your toes curl. 

“Draco..I think I’m..ah—”

“That’s it y/n, be a good girl and cum on my mouth yeah?”

Your high felt like an ocean wave—sweeping, billowing and crashing all over your body. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that to you.” He looked up at you, accomplished as his lips twisted upwards and you looked down at him with a peachy kind of afterglow on your cheeks.

“And I wouldn’t mind doing that again.” 

~~~~~~~~~

Sunday

A four poster bed, a nightstand and a desk full of nothing but books stacked upon one another and an opulent looking rug on the floor. 

Of course, Malfoy had his own bedroom. 

You kept telling yourself that it was the softness of his pricey pillow, laden with his scent and his thousand thread-count sheets that made you want to spend the rest of eternity there.

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Draco kept grumbling in his sleep while pulling you closer to him every passing second or two.

It had nothing to do with how content you felt with your bare body pressed up against him.

He still had his shirt on, unbuttoned all the way allowing you to brush your fingertips against his toned abdomen.

You could tell it was already late evening by the way bare minimum light seeped into the lake and in through the windows.

You had spent the entire Sunday in his room, where he snogged you, ate you out and gave you orgasms upon orgasms.

He was adamant with the way he said “not yet.” every time you tried to unbuckle his pants. 

You sighed and allowed your lips to graze his forehead for the briefest of seconds before shimming free from his arms. 

After sliding your dress back on, you tiptoed to his dresser when you saw a pack of unopened cigarettes on it.

Blame it on mere curiosity but you slowly took a cancer stick out and placed it between your lips—right in the far corner just the way he did it and looked at yourself in the mirror. 

Your neck was marked in a trail of purple bruises and your hair looked like it had definitely seen better days than this.

 As messy as you looked, the reflection stared back at you looking content. 

"If you wanted a smoke, all you had to do was ask." 

The husky tone of his voice startled you. He was propped up on his elbows with his messy blonde hair covering most of his forehead making you weak in your knees.

Damn you Draco Lucius Malfoy. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Monday 

Both of you had showed up to your potions class late—your shirt buttoned all wrong and his blonde hair in a riot of knots and tangles. 

It was the result of an intense snog fest against a wall but nobody needed to know that. 

“That’s the wrong ingredient y/l/n.” Draco scoffed pretending like his tongue wasn’t in your mouth just a few minutes ago. 

Two can play at this game. 

“It is not.” You glared at him making poor Blaise next to you wish he could just shrivel away. 

“Is too.” 

“Is not.” 

“Is too.” 

~~~~~~~~

Tuesday 

“Oh and thank you very much for getting me into detention yesterday.” You said sarcastically while he quietly smoked his cigarette next to you. 

And thank you for making me fall apart by the mercy of your fingers at detention. 

You were seated on the same window sill but this time, you had clothes on—three whole layers of clothing actually. 

“Pleasure.” He chucked, exhaling.

With his exhale, wisps of smoke escaped his lips creating a veil around you two. 

The smell had started to get tolerable, familiar—pleasant even. 

It was strange how the human mind was conditioned into latching itself onto anything that brought it comfort. 

Where there was smoke there was Draco. 

It came as a fixed packaged deal and you didn’t feel the need to complain anymore. 

“So, does Pucey know what you’ve been up to these days or is he still as oblivious as ever?

“Adrian wouldn’t notice if I went missing for a week.” You shrugged.

“Then why are you with him?”

“As cliched as it sounds, its complicated.”

~~~~~~~

Wednesday

“I’m starting to believe I’m a terrible influence on you.” He muttered, raising only one of his eyebrows as he watched you pull out the lit up cigarette from his mouth. 

“Absolutely, without a doubt.” You confirmed, placing his cigarette between your lips attempting to inhale. 

The second you did, you were left a coughing, wheezing wreck—throat on fire, tears streaming down your cheek. 

You quickly drank the water he’d already conjured with a simple aguamenti charm and proceeded to smoke again. 

His heart felt the strange and inconvenient kind of ache seeing you make a mess out of yourself, struggling with the coughing. 

He’d also noticed how you put the cigarette on the far corner of your lip the way he did but he decided to not bring that up. 

“And why have you suddenly decided to take up smoking?” 

“I’ve grown quite fond of the taste.” You blurted involuntarily.

“Oh y/n.” He shook his head. He’d never seen you smoking so there was only one explanation and the explanation made him feel things he’d rather not.

“Cm’here.” 

His hands gently grasped into the hair on the nape of your neck as he pressed his lips on you. 

“Could have just said you wanted to kiss me.” He smirked against your lips. 

“Shut up.” You murmured back. “Just kiss me.”

~~~~~~~~~

Thursday

You always did feel bolder, livelier and happier towards the end of the week. 

Maybe it was the Fire whisky you two and brought to the classroom in his flask coursing through your veins but you felt brave. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to do.” You declared so courageously, taken aback by your own capability of sounding like a reckless Gryffindor. 

“And what would that be y/n?”

You pulled him by his green tie and brushed your lips on his for a fraction of a second before dropping down on your knees in front of where he was seated. 

“This.” 

To be continued....

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3 teaser:

Draco watched with fascination as you tried to slip back into the remains of your silk slip dress.

“I’m sorry about your dress.”

“That’s okay.” You mumbled absently as you tried to get your dress to stay on your body.

“Here.” He said hesitantly before handing you his blazer. “Wear this.”

“Going back to my dorm with your blazer doesn’t seem like a good idea.” You chuckled as the fabric drowned you. “What am I going to tell Pansy?”

His lips quirked up into a faint smile.

“You’re not going to your dorm y/l/n.”

Part three is available here.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @lieswithoutfairytales @dracomalfoys-wh0re @hannahhobnob @sycathorn-slush @mxl-foyrecs @daringvixon @linetteyde @imbadwithunsernames @dracoswhore007 @myunngi @goawayimreadingbeach @loxbbg @icedlattewithalmondmilk @paulina1998 

Thank you all for asking to be on my tag list for this story. I would give you all a blonde ferret if I could. (p.s. I was unable to tag the ones in bold for some reason. :’( )

[bringmebackdude]

I Can't Quit You Baby

(gif not mine)

Pairing: Slash x fem!Reader

Concept: Slash has been hooking up with a rich girl, but this time "no ties" starts to bother him.

Word count: 1,454

A/N: Actually I've been thinking about making a fic out of this one, haven't read or seen one like this with the guys and mixing a rich girl with Slash seems very interesting...(if you have, please let me know, I'm not trying to steal any content by mistake!)

(light smut, fluff)

His agitated body dropped next to hers, both chests going up and down from exhaustion and the heat that filled the considerably small room. Their bodies still felt the shivers of pleasure, there was a comfortable silence during the recovery. (Y/N) sat on the edge of the bed looking for her bra, which she spotted right next to Pandora's tank, his snake, alongside her panties. It was a usual scavenger hunt for her clothes, she and Slash wouldn't care where they left their stuff when lust came between them. He lit a cigarette while watching his companion with a frown, slightly smirking seconds later when he laid eyes on the lightning-struck tattoo she had on her left buttock. "You're leaving already?"

"Wasn't two hours enough for you, big boy?" she chuckled, sliding her legs inside the pink skirt.

"It's just that you usually stay longer...y'know" shrugging and letting the smoke escape from his lips, he sat on the bed. Carefully pushing some of his rebel curls back, so he could give a better look to the girl's half-naked body. "And it isn't two hours if you count the smoke breaks."

"I have stuff to do, and I'm already late," her tone was calm, but she buttoned down her blouse in a rush, shoving her panties in her purse after.

"Daddy invited the president over tonight?" he asked mockingly.

"Ha-ha, very funny," she finished tying her boots and walked towards him, holding his face between her hands "You would love to go to one, wouldn't ya?"

"I'd die for," using his reliable sarcasm, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'll see you soon," always her same goodbye, not forgetting about the quick peck on the lips before taking her belongings and walking out of his room. "Bye, Pandora! Bye, Duff!" Slash heard the main door close, letting out a sigh, all the fun was over sooner than he thought. He was quite happy with the dynamic between him and (Y/N), no need for compromises, just sex whenever they were in need. She was funny, hot, friendly, listened to the same music as he did, and not to mention she was rich. Also, her dad hated Slash, which made the friendship more exciting for both of them. Two lovers of trouble, together, were no good. That's exactly what he wanted, a good fuck and then leave. But somehow, it slightly bothered him that she didn't ask for more. All the girls were looking for something serious with him, why not her?

"She left early, huh?" Duff's head poked out of his door before he made an entrance to the curly's bedroom. He shrugged again, taking a puff on his cigarette "Yeah." "Oh dude, I'm so jealous you can bang that anytime you want. Do you mind if I shoot my shot with her?" "It's not up to me. She's probably out of your league" Slash replied. The guys enjoyed having her around, she wasn't stuck up like other ones, but still, she had a very strong character, which would sometimes cause fights between her and Axl. Of course, she had developed quite the friendship with Duff. The blond giraffe was funny as hell. "If she's a Motley Crue girl, there will be no problem to get her" rested his body against the wall and crossed his arms with a smirk. He knew it was gonna piss the guitarist. "What do you mean?" "Izzy and I ran into her a couple of nights ago after a Motley Crue concert. No big deal." "What were you doing there?" Slash interest grew, he threw the cigarette to the floor and step on it. She goes to see Motley but not us? (Y/N) knew that they were making noise around Los Angeles, he talked endlessly to her about many gigs, still, she never attended one. The unusual feeling of resentment invaded him. He shrugged, making his way out of the room "Chicks are horny as fuck at the end of a rock concert, dude." Duff laughed walking through the hall, knowing the effect that his comment had caused on his friend. As much as Slash would deny it, everyone in the band knew there was something much more than just a friendship going between the two of them. Ever since the night they met her, the proprietorial side of the curly had shown. Besides (Y/N) being rad, she would sometimes arrive at their apartment with boxes of beer when she knew it was their rest day, lent them some clothes, or even offer transportation. Although she would disappear very often and for several days, it was a friendship worth keeping. At this point, the guys were just waiting for them to become something a bit more official, but the two lovers were too proud.

﹆

Her foot stomped on the floor when she tripped on the amp next to the sofa, the dark empty apartment echoed with giggles from the two of them, their mouths refusing to separate. Slash felt the doorknob of his room, quickly opening the door and pulling the girl inside, both wasting no time in starting to take their clothes off. She let her skirt slide down her legs, showing off her pink thong. He, on the other side, was almost naked when he took his pants off, the guy had no problem being commando most of his life. He laid her body delicately on the bed, sliding his mouth towards the female's jaw, where he left traces of saliva from his wet kisses along with a few bites. The rough touch of his blistered fingers running through her body, making her skin crawl as the touch entered between her legs, a smirk appeared in the guitarist's face when he felt how wet she was already, something he never got tired of. A moan escaped from her lips when his mouth positioned on one of her nipples, sucking hard. "Baby" her hands running through his curls, slightly pulling from these, "I need you," she whispered. Needless to say, that unleashed the lust he carried inside.

...

His tanned hand grabbed the delicate one, feeling his fingers locked with hers, a simple but cute thing that Slash usually didn't do. She bit her lip, hiding the smile that the sudden action had provoked on her. "So... Duff told me he saw you at a Motley concert." "Oh yeah, I think it was last weekend or something like that," she shrugged, peering up at him. "I didn't know you liked those types of bands..." trying hard to hide his jealousy, he kept an unworried face. "One of my girlfriends took me with her, and you know I like rock," covering her breasts with the blanket, she reached for a cigarette and took the lighter from the nightstand. "Why?" "Why what?" "Why is this whole interrogation happening, dumbass?" she chuckled, letting the smoke come out right in front of his face. Slash coughed, rolling his eyes before stealing the cigarette from her hand, to which she smiled. "I don't know, it's just that you never come to watch us perform." "So?"

"So? We are friends, and you've never attended one of our gigs, you just drop us off and we're way better than them," he scoffed irritated. The female looked at him with confusion, not understanding where this was all coming from. "Honey, you never invite me to any of your events, I thought this was only hooking up and hanging every now and then," she replied with furrowed brows. He never seemed to have a problem with that. "Well maybe I want more..." with his arms crossed on his chest, he avoided her fazed stare, the last thing he needed was for her to notice his cheeks blushing. The words slipped out of his mouth. Did he regret saying that? No, he didn't, all this time he had been craving more but his pride was too big to admit it. After a few seconds of letting all this new information sink in, slowly a mocking smile was drawn on her face, sliding in bed to be closer to him,"Why didn't you say anything before?" "Cause I guess I didn't realize it completely until a few days ago...whatever, this is stupid" his slight embarrassment was adorable for her, it was a completely new side of the tough carefree guy she knew. "No, it's not," she stopped him before he could get out of the bed."I think we could work something out," a shy smile was attached to the response that was going to change their path from now and on. "I'd like that" he pulled her closed, wrapping his arms around her waist as another round was waiting for them.