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naughtyneganjdm · 2 months ago

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Sneaking in a Quickie

Summary: Taking your niece to a haunted farm attraction turns out to be a fun night when you convince Joel to sneak off with you to enjoy one another.

Characters: Joel Miller & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59500783

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, public sex, rough sex, unprotected p in v, Halloween themed, no use of Y/N, female reader, little to no plot, mentions of Sarah, etc.

Notes: This is day 3 to go with this kinktober list. The prompt I chose was "public sex".

What you thought was going to be a boring night babysitting two kids was actually turning out to be a whole lot more interesting than you thought it would be. When your niece asked you to take her to a haunted farm with multiple attractions for Halloween, you happily accepted. You wanted to spend more time with her, but when you found out she just wanted you to go in order to be a guardian to watch over her and her friend because her parents didn’t want to take her, that’s when it seemed like it was going to be boring. It had been a long time since you had gone to a haunted house of any kind and you thought you were going to be a third wheel.

Instead, when you got to the place, you were pleasantly surprised that your niece’s friend, Sarah, had brought her father along with her. That way you wouldn’t be the only adult there. And it didn’t hurt that he was incredibly good looking.

Joel Miller was his name, and, at first, he was very shy. Soft spoken. Avoided eye contact. Before the event started, you were all sitting at a picnic table with the girls talking back and forth which left you trying to make conversation with him. It was hard, but eventually you got him talking. And once he did, you couldn’t get enough of his southern drawl. From his chocolate brown eyes to his dimples and dark messy hair, you found yourself swooning over this man.

If you were in other situations, you wouldn’t have had a hard time making a pass at him. Unfortunately you were in front of children and that wasn’t going to happen. So you could only flirt with him in the most innocent of ways.

Most of the haunted attractions didn’t start until sundown, so the four of you walked around a scare zone that they had for what appeared to be the younger children. There were mazes with paintings on the walls, a spinning tunnel, a corn maze and other odds and ends. Truthfully? You didn’t care what you were doing as long as you were close to Joel. You wanted to make a good impression on him and by the lack of a ring on his finger you knew that it’d be okay with you trying so hard.

Once the sun went down, you were enamored by how much he visibly loved his daughter, but also by his smartass attitude. When the girls asked you and Joel to go first into the haunted barn attraction that they had because they were scared, Joel reminded them that the actors often went after those in the back. And he was right. Multiple times the actors would work twice as hard to scare the girls and when they got out of line, Joel would make his presence known. So while the teens were happy to be there, they also had their bodyguard to keep them safe.

Together as a group, all of you had spent a lot of time together and the more time you spent with Joel, the hotter you were for him. And by the way he was looking at you toward the end of the night, you wondered if he felt the same.

Part of you was incredibly excited when a group of girls showed up that were friends with your niece and Sarah. They begged to go spend time with them since there was a mother with that group as well. Joel agreed but requested them to meet back at a certain time.

This was exactly what you wanted. Joel suggested the two of you take a walk through the corn maze which wasn’t incredibly busy. Walking side by side with Joel felt nice. It was a cold night and the warmth of his body radiated next to yours warming you right up.

“So…” you finally let the thing that you had been wondering all night escape you. “Are you dating anyone?”

“I don’t have time for that,” Joel admitted with a nervous breath, his brow line furrowing with him shoving his hands further into his jean pockets. “Between Sarah and work, not much time for anything else.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, giving him a small nod. You didn’t want to look too happy to hear that so you looked away. “So does that leave a lot of time for sex?”

“Wow,” Joel chuckled, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. “You just jump right in, don’t you?”

“I’m curious,” you felt a warmth flooding into your cheeks wondering if you had overstepped with the question. “Someone who looks like you…”

“What do you mean?” Joel question, his eyebrow arching in amusement.

“I mean you’re gorgeous,” you were blunt with your response. How else could you put it? “Look at you Joel.”

“Thank you,” Joel chuckled under his breath, his dimples becoming more visible. You couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or charmed by your comment. It was also somewhat dark so it didn’t allow you to see the full emotion in Joel’s dark eyes. “As are you.”

Hearing that sent a rush through your veins.

“And to answer your question,” Joel began, pulling his right hand from his pocket to reach up to brush his fingers through his messy hair. “Not really.”

“Not really?” you repeated, confused what question he was referring to. You were still focused on the idea that he thought you were gorgeous.

“Sex. I don’t have much of it,” Joel admitted, biting at his bottom lip when his dark eyes locked with yours.

“That’s a shame,” you frowned realizing that you had reached the end of the corn maze leading you back out into the open area of the scare zone again. Most of the crowd was at the haunted hayride or the haunted barn. And anyone else was really sitting at the tables talking or hanging out. The area you were walking around was more for the younger kids and since it was nighttime, the area was rather empty. “How brave are you?”

“That depends on what you’re asking,” Joel asserted, turning to face you with a confused expression. “Why do you ask?”

“I would happily take you behind the building and give you a blowjob,” you offered in a whisper having Joel release a long exhale of air from his throat. His shoulders slouched forward, his brow line rising before he looked over his shoulder to see if you were alone. “I noticed that anyone that leaves that building goes out the side. No one goes behind it.”

“Wow,” Joel muttered and it made you panic. Yeah, that was forward, but you were jumping on what you could, hoping that you could get something from this moment. You were heavily attracted to this man and you had the time to try. Looking back toward the building that you were referring to, Joel seemed to actually be considering what you said. “You know…” Joel paused, looking back toward the large group of people again, “A blowjob sounds nice, but I’d much rather fuck you.”

Hooking his fingers firmly around your wrist, Joel led you through the field. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest with the excitement flooding your veins. As you rounded the corner of the building to the maze, you made sure that no one was watching when Joel firmly pushed you against the wall eliciting a surprise gasp from you.

“Can you be quiet?” Joel wondered waiting for your answer before he did anything else. Giving him a nod, you couldn’t form words. Or maybe you were just trying to prove already that you could be quiet. Smirking, Joel bobbed his head about and looked around you to check to make sure you were alone. Once he was certain that you were, he stepped forward trapping you between him and the building. Caressing in over your hips, his large palms squeezed at them with the warmth of his breath lingering over your mouth. “You are wild, y’know that?”

“Only in the best of ways,” you whispered, your hand pressing in over the center of his firm chest. It was then that Joel stole a kiss from your lips. It was actually pretty sweet for a first kiss in a moment like this. It lingered and it felt good. Tipping back, his eyes gazed over you and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was only a small amount of light that allowed you to see him from the flood lights the place had set up in the main area and the light from the moon. Palming up over his chest, you slid your fingers in underneath the jacket he was wearing to caress over his arms. Underneath you felt the firmness of his biceps and it took your breath away. “You are a fine specimen of a man Joel Miller.”

“Just you wait until you realize just how fine,” Joel growled, hammering his mouth down over yours. This time it was a very dominant, passionate kiss that had you tipping up on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Parting your lips allowed him to brush his tongue between your lips and you happily returned the gesture. Gasping out, you were surprised at Joel’s quickness when he turned you to face the wooden walls that someone had thrown up quickly in order to make this place. “We have to be quick, otherwise, I reckon I’d love to kiss you all night.”

Sucking in a sharp breath of air, your eyes slammed shut and you purred out at the feeling of Joel pressing in behind you. His hands caressed up over the sides of your body and then back again. Pushing his hips forward toward your bottom had your eyes coming to a tight close. God, you wanted this so bad. And it was super naughty considering you were in public, not far away from a large group of people.

Forcefully, Joel pushed up the material of your shirt and the light jacket that you were wearing. Finding the top of your pants, he hastily tugged the material getting it down to the bottom of your thighs along with your panties. The sudden coolness of the night air sent a shuddering chill throughout your body. What followed was the sound of Joel swiftly pulling open his belt and working his pants open.

“This is going to be hard and fast. We have to make it quick, but don’t make a sound or else we can get caught. D’you understand?” Joel grunted in your ear, pressing in closer to you and it took your breath away. “D’you?”

“Yes sir,” you panted, hissing out at the incredible amount of pressure that was put over your hips with Joel moving you where he wanted you. Bracing your hands against the wall of the building, you licked your lips and did your best to hold back the whine that you wanted to let out when you felt the tip of Joel’s cock tracing over the length of your sex. God, you wished you could have seen it, but all you could do was picture it when he teased it over your clit and back toward your entrance. A moment later, Joel’s hips bounced up toward yours filling you. “Fu…”

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to silence yourself, knowing the rules. The stretching feeling was immediate. Fuck he was big. Joel stepped forward, forcing you closer toward the building with your face pressing against the coolness of it. Once he got his footing, Joel’s thrusts were meticulous. They were hard and focused. Other than his breathing growing louder, Joel was doing a pretty good job at staying quiet.

You on the other hand were fighting to stay quiet. Every bounce forward of his hips had a smacking sound filling the air. Faint winces were falling from your lips and you started to eagerly bounce your hips back against Joel’s movements. You wanted to feel every part of him inside of you. It was an addictive feeling and you hadn’t even had it that long.

The smacking of his testicles against your clit with every forceful thrust forward was driving you crazy with desire. God, you wished this didn’t have to be a quickie, but still you were loving every second of it. Pressing his head further against the side of your neck, Joel’s breaths were more broken.

“You were a happy surprise,” Joel alerted you with a quiet voice, the warmth of his breath sending chills down your spine. Dropping your left hand down, you wrapped your arm around you to cup at Joel’s bottom. Beneath your fingertips, it flexed with every thrust forward he made. Soon with your urgings, he was pounding into you and you were having a hard time hiding the sounds. Curling his fingers around your mouth had you moaning out into his palm. An amused rumble fell from him with him angling his hips differently. “We have to keep you quiet now.”

Your legs felt like Jell-O. If he didn’t have you pressed up against the wall and he wasn’t keeping you up with his other arm wrapped around your waist, you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Joel slurred in your ear and it had your eyes closing shut tightly. The tip of Joel’s cock was hitting your g-spot with every forceful thrust that he made forward. Your thighs were tensing up with a fire building in the pit of your stomach. So badly you wanted to make a noise, but Joel’s hand was keeping you from doing so. With the way you were shaking, Joel must have picked up on it with his thrusts becoming more powerful. They slowed down, but the force of them had you bouncing up on your toes toward the building. And after a few more determined thrusts, it had Joel pulling his hips back and away from you when your body shuddered and a wet sound followed. With an amused rumble, Joel still kept his fingers wrapped around your lips with your body now slouched forward shaking. “I did not picture you squirting during this, but I like it…”

Joel’s free hand found it’s way between your legs to caress at your clitoris, his fingers having you bucking up toward his touch, “how do you want me to finish?”

Shakily dropping to your knees had Joel smiling when you turned to face him. Stepping forward, he allowed you to grab at his hips to pull him closer to you. Taking your time, you curled your fingers around Joel’s length, pumping his flesh in your grasp. And when he let out a shuddering breath, you took him into your mouth, working to bob your head over his cock at the same tempo you were caressing over the base of it with.

“That’s it,” Joel licked his lips, his fingers pressing in over the back of your head to help lead your movements over his erection. Wet sounds were falling from his parted lips with the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Thrusting toward your mouth, Joel was undoubtedly wanting to get that quick release so no one would catch the two of you. “Fuck…”

In that moment you felt Joel tensing up, his cock throbbing inside of your mouth. Bouncing his hips forward, Joel pressed you further down his length. The first line of his cum hit the back of your throat and you did your best to swallow it down. Continuing his release, Joel clung tightly to your head biting back the sounds that he wanted to make.

By the time he was done, he released you allowing you to pull back and away to rest on your knees. Joel’s cock twitched and you licked your lips, cherishing the taste of him that was still there. Reaching for his pants, Joel pulled them back over his hips. Working his softening cock back into his pants, Joel was quick to fix his clothes before helping you up.

“Come here,” Joel nuzzled his nose in against the side of your neck while he helped work your pants back up over your waist.

“So you’re a gentleman too?” you teased still feeling uneasy on your legs, thankful that Joel was holding onto you.

“Something like that,” Joel snorted, collecting your chin between his thumb and index finger. Gifting you with another kiss, Joel hummed against your flesh. You assumed he tasted himself against your flesh with him drawing his tongue out over his bottom lip. Looking to his watch, Joel huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “We need to get going.”

“That’s a shame,” you frowned hating how quickly something this amazing had to end.

“Nothing about tonight was a shame,” Joel corrected you, outstretching his hand to caress his thumb in over your bottom lip. “We’re just going to have to find a time where we can do this again and make it last all night.”

#Joel Miller #The Last of Us #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller fanfiction #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller Smut #The Last of Us fanfiction #kinktober 2024 #Joel Miller imagine

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rqnarok · 2 months ago

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LINGER | 4,3k

old man!logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Being another mutant who survived Charles’ seizures, you are forced to live alongside Logan. The things between you and Logan goes on and off, fragile and indefinite—yet it always lingers.

TAGS AND WARNINGS: smut, mdni! mentions of blood, death, and grief (not logan), lots of angst but lots of fluff too, old man!logan x mutant!reader but unspecified mutation so it’s up to you! minor injuries, nightmares, miscommunication, kind of slow burning (?), pining, logan calls himself ‘old man’ several times, petnames, reader being called ‘kid’ by logan, unrequited love but actually requited (just angst all over…), logan howlett is bad at feelings, love confessions, virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, p with little plot, fingering (f receiving), insecure!reader and insecure!logan, logan loves reader, unprotected p in v.

NOTES: not proofread! bello! ‘m not new to writing but new to writing fan fictions hehe! old man!logan is kinda my everything and this fic is kindaaaa self indulgent. listened to “linger” by the cranberries while writing this :0 feel free to send reqs and feedback to my inbox. this was mere my writing practice and my attempt to gain motivation in life. oh, sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, eng is not my first language! hope this isn’t my first and last fic.. see u all <3 or not....:p

'Shamed what happened back in the East.

A saying you heard but don’t know where. Even who said it. Still, you remember all of it—their cries of death, their pain, their suffering.

A haunting vivid memory in X-Mansion, where all of your friends are lying on the ground, in pain—and you could not do anything. You just watched. In pain, too. There was a thought which you think that it was the end. You were already accepting it with open arms, welcoming your exit.

Then your mutation saved you from your fate. Your survival, at the price of grief.

“You’re doing it again.”

Jolted by his comment, you dart your eyes away from the road and into your lap. “Do what?” You mutter quietly, not sure if he even hears it.

But he always does. “Never mind.” Logan sighs in the damp air. You both know it is better not to talk about what exactly happened back then. Talking is not what you two are best at either. “I asked you a question earlier, you hungry?”

“A little, yeah. Yeah.” Your gaze sways to his driving figure: how his right hand grips the steering wheel way too tightly, how his soft blue shirt is all wrinkled, how his tired eyes look with those heavy eye bags, and the grey hairs all over his untrimmed beard. He looks worn out. But so are you.

The two of you have been doing this for God knows how long. Wandering from one place to the other with Charles in the backseat. Looking for a place to settle but not really looking for it either. It’s simply a suicide travel.

He makes a turn towards a cheap-looking diner on your left.

Northern Mexico.

A place where you both decided to settle indefinitely. Alongside Charles, who lives in the abandoned smelting plant not so far away. Logan takes up a job as a limo driver in El Paso and every time you tell him you don’t want him to be so far away during the daytime, he always says: One of us has to earn the money, kid.

Kid.

To this day, after time living together, you aren’t sure of the nature of the relationship between you and Logan. Companions? Friends? Strangers?

Well, one thing you are sure of is you are not his adopted child and he does not see you in that way, either. He sees you in the same way he sees Charles, as his responsibility.

Before all this, you were aware of him: what he looked like, his mutation, his reputation. But you do not know him personally. You passed him once or twice in the hallways after your studies. That was it.

All of a sudden, he’s all you have. The only other sane mutant you are fully sure, survived Charles’ seizure. Still, you two weren’t friends before and sure aren’t friends now. In this shared house, you and Logan are strangers—forced to live together on the sole base of sentimentality.

Deep down, you know there is something more. Something vulnerable, down there. Something fragile. There are moments like where-

Your thoughts are frozen by the sudden creaking sound of the front door. The sight of Logan all bloody and bruised entered your wandering vision. The book you were reading is now abandoned as you get up from the comfortable sofa.

“W-what happened?” Rushing into him with quick movements, this is not the first time he returns all beaten up but it is still a blow to you every single time. You can’t stand the thought of losing another person in your life, even if you convince yourself that he is a mere stranger.

His white shirt has reds in many parts, and he’s bleeding all over the house, “Some fuckin’ kids tried to mess up with the limo. F-fuck.” With the blood smeared all over his hand, he managed to get into the shared bathroom, his breath coming out short.

“Wait!” You rushed to his figure with an aid kit in your trembling hands. He slouched forward, cursing himself. Gently, you wrap your arms around him before he falls and help him lean his back on the white tiles behind.

He shakily opened the buttons of his shirt and you could see everything. While you grab all you need and start cleaning his wounds, he looks at you with his half-lidded eyes. The intense gaze that always makes you want to shy away from him—you are not so sure why.

After a while, you kneel beside him and break eye contact, “Did you kill them?” you question him carefully as you tread his wounds. Not sure how he would answer tonight.

Logan grunts when you touch one of his nasty wounds, still looking at you, “No. But you should see them.”

You feel uncomfortable at his reply, retreating your hands and facing the mirror, looking down at the sink, “I don’t want to see them, Logan.” At some point, as you search around for more supplies to treat his injuries that still haven’t healed by his mutation, you break down crying. Out of your realisation, you have been holding back your worries and sobs since you saw him.

Logan, who notices this, pulls you abruptly into him and seats you on one of his thighs. “Hey, hey, why y’crying huh? Hm?”

You hate this. You hate how you suddenly cry at the sight of him, at the reminder that this is all finite. His big calloused hand starts rubbing up and down your back, gently shushing you. You hate how he knows you all too well by now.

“I told you to stop doing the job. I-I told you that this… this would happen. I’m always scared. I thought— ” You let out one big sob or whimper, you’re not so sure. Not when he’s cradling you in his arms like this. “You can’t heal like you used to, you can’t barely–”

“Hey, shh, pretty girl,” Pretty girl. You blush at that. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? That’s all that matters.” He shushed you oh, so tenderly. Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. Logan forces himself to smile, “Aren’t I? Come on, feel me up.” Logan sits you up straight on his lap.

He always does this. Giving out, you delicately place both of your hands on the sides of his face, feeling him up. He watches you brush around his greying beard while holding your waist in place, drawing circles on your skin. “There ‘ya go. I’m here.”

When you feel calm down and tired, you rest your heavy head on his shoulders, “Maybe I should take a turn going to town–”

He cuts you off while lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes that you were trying so hard to dodge. Without him saying any words, you know he is saying no. Your assumption is confirmed when he shakes his head slightly, looking down at you sternly.

“It’s just me and you, Logan.” You say meekly and defeatedly.

“Exactly. That's why it’s gotta be me, baby.”

Moments later, you continue mending his cuts. And moments after that, you’re both lying together on the bed. Holding each other in slumber. Your head on his chest, his hands on your back.

Through these delicate moments, you know him. That he is not simply a stranger to you. That this means something more.

But he does not talk about those moments. Which makes you feel like your perspective is an illusion that you made by yourself, untrue. A false memory that you created in your head because you do feel something for him.

In the morning, you wake up alone. Logan is nowhere to be seen around the room. Only traces of his scent are left on the white sheets wrapping around your figure.

When you open the bedroom door, there he is. Sitting on the kitchen chair, his slouched back facing you while he sips on his black coffee which he secretly hates. He likes the coffees that you frequently make for him more. You don’t know that. He never told you.

“Logan?” you call out to him. But he didn’t budge away from reading the newspaper. As if you weren’t there at all. As if moments like last night never happened. As if it’s true that you are merely a responsibility to him. A burden, even. You hang your head low at his ignorance and retreat to your room.

Such a paradox could live inside a man like him.

Other moments happened too. One afternoon, his phone suddenly rings while he is out visiting Charles. With all the self-control you have, you try to ignore it, ignore everything that connects to him because it upsets you. But your curiosity gets ahead of your mind and you pick his phone up.

“Hello?” you place the thing on the side of your left ear. No sound, nothing, nada. Before you know it, you feel a presence behind you and Logan is looking down at you with that look again.

Snatching his phone away from you, not so gently, he mutters, “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff, huh?” The way he remarks and the way he looks at you makes you feel small and embarrassed. These are the moments where he is not going to cradle you in his arms–you know that.

Your eyes darted to the floor. The lines on the wood oak floor suddenly seemed very interesting, “I’m- Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. So I thought–”

“You thought? What? You have the right to?” Logan cuts you off before you finish your poor excuse of explanation. “You have your own pile of shit and I have mine. Stay out of my shit. You understand?”

Sometimes there are sparks of rage inside of you that make you gain bits of confidence, “Well, we technically live in the same place, so–”

Though, Logan quickly dims off that spirit by not letting you finish, “Understand?”

You limit yourself to a nod in agreement because you don’t trust your voice. Confusion often fills up your body to the brim. These are the moments you hate. How he treats you differently at one time and another. You hate how he makes you so weak. You hate how he has you wrapped around his fingers. You hate that you don’t have the same effect on him.

“It’s not your fault, darling.” Charles reasons you one time when you visit him for weekly check-ups. “That man has issues! Even after all these years, I still could not fully understand him and his... complexities.” You force your lips to quirk up a little and pretend as if you justify that, too. But you're in so deep.

Weeks after weeks, it went on like that. You, confused. Logan, indifferent all the time. You miss his touches. Was it just a game to him?

Paralyzed, the color red clouded your vision. You see bodies lying everywhere, dead bodies. The room smells like dread. With what is left, your power manages to slow down the pain that rushes in you. Protect you from the incursion.

Here, there is no way to hide. Their cries echo through the halls. Their screams still haunt you.

If you could have saved yourself, you could have saved them too. But you watched them die.

You watched them die.

Inside the dark of your room, you did not realize that you had been thrashing and screaming in your sleep. The nightmare came to you again. Grief shows through in the form of tears, flowing into your cheeks as you open your eyes in fear, “I let them die, I let them die, I let them die–”

“Sweetheart?” a voice comes from outside your room. Near but so far away.

You kept repeating those words until a figure finally came up in front of you, Logan. He calls out your name, “Hey, no, no–” Now he is touching you all over, trying to stop you from moving rapidly and hurting yourself in the process. Sitting you in front of him and making you face him. Closing your eyes for a brief second, your chest heaving up and down, you remember again and you panic, “I-I watched them die–” your voice wavers.

“No, shh, keep those eyes open. You’re okay. I’m here.” His hands hold your face and his thumb brush off some of the hair in your wet cheeks.

“I could’ve saved them. They were dying, they were in pain–” You cry out as the scene on that day played out again. Daunting and haunting you without your consent. Always lingering around on the back of your neck. Only one person knows what it feels like.

Logan’s eyes soften while he remembers that bitter memory too, “So were you,” His voice coaks out, soothing you, “So were you. ‘s not your responsibility.”

At this, you put your arms around his neck and grip him tightly, finally comprehending what is happening. “Calm down, baby. Logan’s here. ‘M not leaving.” He hushed you back to your senses.

After minutes of him comforting you in silence, his eyes dart to your bleeding lips which you bite to stifle your sobs. With much surprise, Logan parts them and caresses them. Looking at them then back at your eyes, then at your lips again. Your foreheads are now touching and you find yourself nose-to-nose to him.

In your chest, your heart beats so loudly that you fear he may actually hear it. Then with that look that he gives you again, every logical thought and pride you were trying to build, collapses inside you, making you putty in his arms. As you always do.

But tonight, something more is happening, “Logan.” You managed to call out his name in a whisper, begging for something. He feels the same way too, “I know, baby. I know.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any signs of discomfort as he starts to kiss each one of your cheeks. He tells himself repeatedly in his mind, “No, not her. Anyone but her, you dipshit. You’ll lose her if you do this.” A belief that he has been telling himself every day.

What you don’t know about Logan, after all this time, is how he is afraid that if he touches you, if he shows you his feelings, you will be gone from this world. If he cares about you, he will lose you. He is in fear that the cruel world will take you away. As it always does to people he cared.

Bad shit happens to people I care about. And he managed to hold onto this thinking and compose himself every time.

Until now.

Your whimpers and pleads get to him–he cannot hold back anymore, he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He peppers your face with kisses, everywhere but where you need him the most, your lips. “L-Logan…” you feel your face getting hotter every moment. “Ah, p-please–”, you greedily grind your lower body onto his thighs.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groans while breathing all over your face, “You have no idea what I would do to you, the shit I’d do for you.” One of his hands gets under your nightgown and he succeeds in squeezing your tit. “Ah!” you squeak in surprise and quickly get embarrassed when he chuckles at the noises you make.

When your gaze meets him, the force can no longer be stopped. What you both try to bury deep down, what you two were locking away in a box, is bolting itself abruptly. The thumps of his heart match yours. There is no going back now.

While breaking a promise, he makes a new promise to himself: that he’d protect you before all the bad shit happens. He will not let any of it get to you.

After a brief staring contest and lingering doubts, he loses himself, mutters ‘Fuck this shit’ under his breath, and locks his lips on yours, melting you completely into his embrace. You gasp into his mouth and tighten your hug around him. His tongue finds yours sensually as he cradles your head to deepen the kiss. It was the first time he kissed you.

“It’s just you and me, kid.” He blurted out against your mouth and you could not conceal your smile. Whatever you both were trying to suppress, it’s now roaming free in liberation.

His mouth grins at your reaction and before he can stop himself, he confesses, “‘M sorry for how I acted these days. This old man was so fuckin’ afraid of how things would turn out.”

You were about to say it’s okay but he continues, “But he will try his best from now on. What d’ya think? Hm?” Logan looks over at you hesitantly, afraid of what you’d reply. His ‘confession’ does sound way better in his head, when he practiced beforehand. You didn’t know that, of course.

A giggle went out of your lips, “I think I’d like that.” you say breathlessly before kissing him again.

Our brain is meant to be effective. It is not designed to be right at all times. Well, sometimes we are right, but we experience the wrongs more. What we thought we knew, we don’t. What we thought we didn't know–maybe we do. Especially about another person and their feelings. Similar to what you thought Logan Howlett feels.

Following that night, things had changed between the both of you. The ‘boundaries’ separating you two are torn into pieces, in a good way. Now you are reminded by the nature of your relationship through everything. When he comes back home to you every day, when he puts his arms around you while you are cooking dinner, when he kisses the crown of your head before sleeping, when he fixes your favorite kitchen chair, and many other whens.

Including now, when he kisses you so roughly and gently at the same time, fueled by the desire he kept while he was still stubborn back. Logan hiked up your dress until he could feel your breasts, pinching one nipple. “Missed you– missed you so much today.” He says while kissing down between your chest and your stomach, “Missed this,” somewhere in between. You are not so sure.

“Tell me, did you miss me too, Little Missy?” Logan, who is kneeling before, tilts his head upwards so he can see your face. You cover your blushing face, shying away from him and his question like you are used to, “You know the answer.”

He picks you up from the kitchen with one hand and puts you down on your shared bed, “Oh, you don’t wanna say it?” You shake your head in an attempt to tease him. Lying down on your back and with parted legs, you can feel his rough beard while he kisses your inner thigh. “Aight' then, we may just see it.”

By seeing it, he means ripping your white underwear, the one you adored the most and has a pink ribbon, “Shh. I’ll buy you another one.” Logan quickly says before he can hear your protesting remarks.

“Really liked that one... ah!” The tip of his tongue probes your entrance without much warning, lapping up and down your cunt. “See, baby? You missed me so much. She’s dripping here.”

You feel embarrassed with how he is looking at you down there as if he is inspecting you. Unconsciously, you try to close your legs slightly. Logan does not like this as delivers a soft spank to one of your butt cheeks. “So shy all the time when it’s just your old man.”

Now, his rough hands are gripping each one of your thighs and keeping you in place. His tongue lapped at your pussy—from your hole to your clit, circling and sucking until you can feel his beard slicked up by your juices. Whimpering, your hands desperately pull at his hair, pulling him closer and closer as if he isn’t already eating you up.

He chuckles darkly when you whine pathetically at the movement of his one thick finger entering your wet hole. “Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He huffed and looked up at you with pure animalistic need as his fingers worked your walls, hitting that gummy spot that had you crying.

“Please! P-please—Logan. Want you inside,” This plead makes Logan stop his actions and glance up at you, questioningly. You weren’t sure about a lot of things, but you are sure about this. “‘M ready, pleaseplease…”

Logan has been denying you his cock for who knows how long. All this time, he gets you off by his mouth, thighs, fingers, anything except his cock. He always has an excuse, “You’re not ready for me, baby.” Or “This ain’t about me, kid.” Or “My old bones are too tired today. Next time, yeah?” Each one of them frustrates you.

Your virginity is making him hold himself back. You know this, he knows this. Deep down, he still thinks he is a filthy man who does not fully deserve you and that he is ruining you. He thinks by not penetrating you by his cock, he gains some sense of decency but he really is just unsure. Not about you, no, never. About himself.

But when you look at him with those big eyes while sprawling yourself bare to him, how could he deny you? “Are you sure? Fuck. Can’t hold myself back anymore.” Logan takes off his crumpled white shirt, undoes his belt, and tosses them away, making a clinking sound that echoes through the room. His eyes grew dark with raw desire as he brought down his pants and fists his large cock in his hand. All while looking at you.

“Yes! Please, please, give it to me. ‘Can take it!” You snapped with excitement and lean up, pressed a kiss to a part of his greying beard—the older man grins at your eagerness. “You’re going to be the death of me, pretty girl.” Logan lifts both of your legs and puts his mouth on your mound once more, making sure that you’re ready and you haven’t changed your mind.

Between his hunger licks on your pussy and the probes of his thick fingers, he mutters, “I fuckin’ love you.” And that statement itself makes you cry out his name and come all over his fingers and tongue, “L-Logan!”

“Atta girl.” You arch your back in a euphoric state of your orgasm. He could smell you. Every part of you. “So beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

He helps you remove every fabric you had on, your pretty white sundress, your bra, your socks—everything that is separating you and him. Now you and he are completely bare, “All this for your old man, huh?” He mumbles the rhetorical question into the chilly air, his hands ghosting over your perked nipples and pinching them softly, then kisses each one of them. He goes down on you again and kisses your clit one more time.

The sight of him makes your breath caught in your throat. You swallow your spit at the look of greying bread glistening with your cum, at the sight of his thick cock springing against his stomach. “Is my baby ready for me?” You nod your head eagerly at him, assuring him that this is what you want.

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself between your bodies, “Use your big girl words, darlin’” He nudges at your already wet entrance, waiting for your response, taking his time with you.

“‘M ready..! I want this, want you.” You pamper kisses all over his face the same way when he comforts you during your nightmare. His forehead meets yours and he kisses your lips gently as a form of understanding your needs. “Hold on t’me, my sweet girl.”

Then his tip slips inside and you gasp into his mouth, “Good girl. My good girl. You can take it.” You tighten your grip around him as he pushes himself deep inside you, “D-Doing so good, baby. Just a little more,” down to the hilt—his cock bottoms out, “There ya’ go, princess.” Logan coos at your trembling state.

He swallows your moans with a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. “Feel so fuckin’ good. I fuckin’ love you.” There he says it again while he pulls himself all the way out to just the tip, then all the way back in—making you throw your head upwards.

Logan growls and kisses your bare neck, leaving some marks on it but you don’t care, in fact, you want him to. “I love you too, Logan.” You utter those words to him as he rams into you, his thrusts going faster and faster as he loses himself watching you. The friction of his cock against the velvet walls of your cunt is addictive, the pleasure makes the older man grunts.

He thrusts harder, his hips slamming into home, the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, alongside your little ah ah ah's .

"Cum for me, baby. Come for your old man." With one final, powerful thrust, he releases inside your tight heat, his warm seed filling you as he curses and lets his head fall onto your embrace.

"Ah!" You shudder as you clench tight around him and milk his cock. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your body giving out of control as you experience another release of the night.

Logan lifts his head to scan over the scene before him. He had never seen anything like it and he had seen a lot of shit. Your figure is all fucked out and filled. He didn’t think anything could be more beautiful than what he has right now. And he says it again before bringing his lips into yours, “It’s just you and me.”

You tiredly return his kiss and look at him with a soft smile, “It’s just you and me.”

His meaningless and plain life becomes something again because of you. You are the anchor of his life and his reason not only to stay but to fight and protect.

Logan knows there are things that can be stopped, but then there is love.

He is in so deep too. This time, the both of you willingly let it linger. It’s just you and him.

787 notes · View notes

love-that-we-were-in · 8 months ago

Text

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?”

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.

“Fancy a rematch?”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Three, I think?”

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.

So you say it anyway.

“I bet I could outdrink you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”

“Are you going to?”

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?”

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes.

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.

“You ever blown a smoke ring?”

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.

“We can share.”

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.

“You’re on, Castellan.”

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore.

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”

“I know you hooked up with Luke.”

“Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

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imaginaryf1shots · 24 days ago

Text

Wildflower pt.2 | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 5.1K

Lewis x ex!reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You break up with Lewis 3 years ago, but he was the one that let you go.

Warning: Maybe a curse word?

Part 1

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Lewis returned home feeling dejected, he was crushed. Even if he expected it, it didn’t make it easier. He’s happy that you’re in a place where you’re confidant and happy, you’re content. And he should be satisfied with that. But the love he buried down for you ran into him the moment he saw you again.

Sitting in his living room with the lights dimmed and no one to keep him company, his mind was a storm of emotions. Guilt, regret, confusion. Seeing you again, hearing your voice, it’s all shaken him to the core, in ways he didn’t expect.

The door he had hoped would open to him, was slammed and bolted in his face. The life you built without him, has no place for him in it.

Lewis sighed his head leaning back on the chair, he sat there staring at the wall in silence. Memories of the times you shared in this very house haunting him. your laughter, the way you’d curl into him after a long day, the arguments you had over little things that seemed so important at the moment. Every memory, good and bad, just played in his mind, a reel he couldn’t skip.

A part of him, a large part, told him to give you. you already decided, and you were very clear, you moved on, and he needed to respect that. He went to you, poured his heart out, and you still walked away. He tried, right? That was enough, right? He already told himself he’s apologise, that he’d try to make things right, and now... now he had done what he could.

But as the minutes ticked by in his silent flat, something nagged at him. It’s not regret or guilt. It’s the same feeling he had since the moment he saw you at the event that started this whole thing. You’re always on his mind.

No matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away, no matter how many reasons he came up with to move on, it wasn’t working. You were always there, in the back of his mind, a constant presence he couldn’t shake off. He tried to do it once, and he thought he succeeded but evidently not. There’s a reason he’s never been with anyone after you, not once, and it never crossed his mind. It was like in his subconscious, if it wasn’t you then it would be no one.

Was he really going to walk away without giving it his all?

The self-doubt started, the fear he’s not good enough, he had the let the best thing in his life slip form his hands so easily. Can this time be different? He had to try to know.

You can’t give up.

The thought hit him; he already lost you once because he didn’t fight hard enough. He lad let you go, thinking it was for the best for the both of you, but all it did was leawve a void in his life shaped like you. He still wanted you, needed you.

He’s not making the same mistakes again.

If he lets you go this time, without truly fighting for you, he’d never forgive himself. He’d live the rest of his life wondering what could have been, haunted by the memories of you and the life you could have had together.

Lewis is used to fight for victories and championships, but this was a different kind of battle. This was personal, raw and so much more important than any race. He had to show you that he wasn’t the man who let you walk away so easily years ago.

So, he made a decision.

He’s not giving up.

You weren’t expecting Lewis to show up to your flat the other day. In fact, you hadn’t expected him to ever show up in your life ever again. After so long you had made your peace with how things ended. Or at least you thought you had. Seeing him stirred something you, something that you did not want to face.

He looked different. Older, more tired. There was a sadness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, a vulnerability that surprised you. but you had held your ground, kept your distance. You couldn’t let him back in, not after what happened. You had worked too hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again after he left. Letting him in now would mean risking everything you had worked for.

But it didn’t stop him from trying.

It started with flowers.

A simple bouquet, left by your door with a handwritten card. He didn’t want to overhelm you, didn’t want to come on too strong. Just something to ler you know he was still thinking about you.

I know I can’t erase the past, but I hope I can be part of your future.

-Lewis

They were your favourite flowers, they became your favourite after you started dating Lewis, and he had taken you on a trip to Brazil. You had seen them at a flower shop there, and he surprised you with them the next day, and at every celebration after that, or just because he wanted to give you something.

You debated throwing them away for a long time. They haunted you, so you threw them in the trash in the kitchen. You had just walked out of the kitchen when you turned back around and got them out.

The flowers did nothing to you.

You put them in a vase, and hide the card in a drawer you don’t open. And tell yourself there’s nothing to it. They’re still your favourite flowers.

Lewis waited for any kind of response, checking his phone constantly, wondering if you’d send him a message or even acknowledge the gesture. But he got no call and no text.

Even though it stung, Lewis wasn’t deterred. It just made him more determined. He knew you were guarded; you built walls around you to protect your heart. One bouquet wasn’t going to change that.

A few days later you hear a knock on the door, and opened it to see a deliveryman, with a box of your favourite desert from your favourite bakery in France. The one Lewis took you to on a road trip. And even though he doesn’t like driving that much out of racing, he drove you both all around Europe. Took you to all the places you’ve never been to.

There was another card:

I remember how much you loved these; thought you might enjoy them.

-Lewis

You sat at your dining table and the box sat in front of you. You were glaring at the box as if it had offended you in some way. The sweet smell of baked goods hit you the moment you opened the box. They were obviously very fresh, Lewis flew them in today, no doubt about it.

Like the flowers you wanted to throw them away, but there are people around the world who can’t eat. You have to eat them, or they’d go to waste.

So, you caved, you pulled the box closer and opened it.

Again, Lewis didn’t get any response. No acknowledgment. You weren’t going to make it easy for him, and in a way, he respected that.

But he’s not going to back down.

You were at work when the receptionist called for you to come to the reception. There you found a delivery man holding your favourite drink from your favourite café in Monaco, you had no idea they did deliveries or take aways for that matter. But here he stood with your favourite drink and then coffees for the rest of your coworkers. You ignored all the chatter around you about who they could be from. You simply took the card and drink for the delivery man, and left your coworkers to split the drinks between them.

When you were alone, you opened the card.

I know you how much of a hard worker you are, don’t pressure yourself and take a break every now and then.

-Lewis

You sighed and took a sip from your drink. You’ve changed so much, and yet there’s still things that hasn’t. Lewis knew a part of you, did he know enough or discover enough in the two times you talked to know what changed and what hasn’t?

Lewis has given up hope on you replying to his advances, but that didn’t stop the glowers, pastries, drinks, trinkets from his travelling or even books that he told you he’s read and enjoyed. All that got him no answer.

Staying up in his hotel room, Lewis decided to try something he hasn’t done yet. He got paper and pen and sat on the desk for what felt like hours.

When he’s back in Monaco, he debated sending it or not, was it too much, too soon. But everything else he’s done got him nowhere. He had nothing to lose.

You were confused when you got an envelope in the mail, someone in Monaco sent you a letter. Opening it, you had no idea why you were confused or expected it. The familiar handwriting stood out to you; you didn’t have to see the end of the letter for a name.

I know I hurt you. I know that even though you walked out of the flat, I was the one that left, and that’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. I wish I could go back and fix it, but I know I can’t. all I can do is tell you how much I’ve missed you, how much I still care about you.

I thought I could move on, but the truth is, I’ve never stopped loving you. I see now how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve grown, and I respect that. But I also know that I still want to be part of your life, if you’ll let me. I want to get to know this new version of you, the one who’s stronger, wiser and even more beautiful than before. I want to relearn all the things that hasn’t changed.

I don’t expect you to take me back because I say I’m sorry. But I want you to know that I’m here, and I’ve changed. I’m willing to fight this time. And if you’re willing, if a part of you still has any feelings for me, no matter how small, please give me a chance to prove that I’ve changed as well.

-Lewis

You sat on the bed tears welling in your eyes, he’s not even back in your life and he’s causing you tears. He’s causing you pain. But is the pain there because of him, or because you’re fighting your heart. After all these years, after all the effort it took for you to become the person you are today, you feel weak. A small part of you still cares about him, maybe not love him, but you care about him. You left Lewis not because he was mean, abusive or anything of that sort, you left him because his career was the biggest part of him, and it consumed him.

One Google search tells you that, where he is now work wise is different than where he was when you were dating.

Getting your phone, you opened the message app and the last message you shared stared at you.

Lewis

I’m on my way home

y/n

okay

Lewis

are you still upset?

y/n

no why would I be?

Lewis

you are upst

y/n

we’ll talk when you’re home

Lewis

okay 5mins and I’ll be home

y/n

👍

Your conversations survived the phone change, as did your pictures that you uploaded to the cloud before deleting them from your phone.

You debated what to text him, writing and erasing multiple times. Before just sending what you wrote.

y/n

Thank you for the pastries, the flowers and all the other gifts. And the letter. But Lewis, I don’t know what you expect from me. I appreciate the gestures, I do. But I’m not the same person I was you said you want to get to know this new version of me, but I don’t even know if there’s room in my life for you anymore, you hurt me and I’m not sure I can forget that. I don’t want to be hurt again.

Lewis stared at the messages for a long time, feeling the sting of your words. You weren’t shutting him down completely, but you weren’t ready to let him back either. It was progress, but it wasn’t the answer he’s dreaming of.

Lewis

I know I hurt you. I’m not asking you to forget that. I just want the chance to show you that I’m not the same man I was. That I can be someone you can trust again. Please, just one chance. We don’t have to rush anything. I just want to spend time with you, to talk, to start over.

You sat there thinking, debating if you should give him a second chance, the feat that everything you built will be gone was scary. You didn’t want to return to what you once were.

You decided to trust yourself, trust that the moment things looked to be turning to how it once was you’d walk out and that would be it. You hate to admit that you haven’t thought about dating or being with anyone in any shape after Lewis. At one point you thought he was it for you, the man you’ll spend the ret of your life with.

The more time you took to answer, Lewis sat staring at his phone. Anxiety eating at him. he didn’t know what he’d do if you said no. he wasn’t sure he’ll be able to lose you again.

Finally, his phone buzzed.

y/n

One chance But don’t think it means anything yet. I’m giving you the opportunity, but it’s on you to prove that you deserve it. I mean it, the moment I don’t like where this is heading, I’m out and that would be it.

His heart leaped; a small flame of hope ignited in his chest. This wasn’t a definitive answer, but it was something. He had hope. The smile on his face wouldn’t go away.

Lewis

Thank you I won’t let you down.

A week later Lewis found himself waiting for you at the small café that you used to go to, the same place you had spent many afternoons talking for hours. He wasn’t sure if it was the right choice. There was a part of him that wondered if it would’ve been better if you met at a new place, to keep this café with good memories in case the date went south. But then again, he wanted to start in a place that’s familiar, somewhere you’re both comfortable in and maybe, just maybe, it would remind you of the good memories you once had.

His foot was taping on the floor as he anxiously waited for you to arrive. His eyes would glance at the door every few seconds.

The café was quiet as you walked in. memories washed over you as you glanced around, taking in the familiar wooden beams, the cosy mismatched chairs, and the smell of coffee in the air. You hadn’t been here in years, since you used to come here regularly. Not a month has passed without you going to the café at least once. It felt strange being here again, even stranger that it was to meet him.

You spotted Lewis the moment you walked in, he was sitting at your old table, and the sight of him there made you pause in your step. He looked up and smiled, a little shy, he stood up to greet you.

“Hey.” He said softly, as if he was scared, he’d scare you off.

You returned the tentative smile and sat across from him. “Hey.”

You settled into an uneasy silence, neither knowing how to start talking, the years you spent apart casting a shadow over what you had once felt natural. You noticed how he glanced at you, like he was memorising every detail, trying to relearn the person you had become. You couldn’t tell if it made you feel seen or vulnerable.

Lewis eventually cleared his throat, a smile playing on his lips. “I thought this place might be a good start, we used to come here all the time, remember?”

“I remember.” You nodded, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. You didn’t add that it was hard to be back, that the memories were heavy and filled with nostalgia and a hint of sadness. For some reason you knew that he felt the same. You could tell.

After that you started talking, cautiously at first, both feeling out your way through the conversation, both afraid to delve into anything too personal. It felt almost like small talk, which was strange after all that you’ve shared together. It was like you were both learning to know each other again, slowly, step by step.

After a while of talking you both started to relax, you could tell Lewis’s smile was becoming genuine as he recounted a story about a recent race. A race that you have watched, but he did not need to know that. You found yourself laughing despite telling yourself you wouldn’t. leaning back as you listened to him describe the chaotic pit stop that nearly cost him the podium. You only in a moment of silence, did you realise how much you’ve missed this, missed hearing him talk about his world, what made him excited, the way he’d lean forward as if to draw you in.

“You know.” Lewis said a pause, his tone soft. “This place… it brings back a lot of good memories.” He looked at you, with hope in his eyes. “I know it’s different now, but being here with you, it… it feels like old time.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wanted to let yourself believe that you would slip back into the easy, carefree love that you once shared. But the other part of you knows things aren’t that simple, and you don’t want to move that fast.

“It’s, it’s not the easiest thing for me to be here.” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I came because… well, I wanted to see if there was something worth salvaging, or at least to understand why things turned to the way they did at the end.”

It was obvious the amount of regret Lewis felt, it was evident all over his face and posture.

“I know I hurt you, and I wish I could go back and fix it all. I was so wrapped up in my own head, in my career… I couldn’t see what I was doing to us.” Lewis reached out across the table, hesitating before his hand gently touched yours. “Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, but I want the chance to make it right, even if that means starting from scratch.”

His sincerity caught you off guard and you looked down at your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Seeing the familiar tattoos covering his hand brought back the memories of the day you sat and traced them or just looked at all the small details. You had once told Lewis ‘they may be your tattoos but I think I know them better than you do.’ He had laughed and kissed you. Those good memories made you want to believe him; you want to believe that he’s different now, that he understood the weight of what he’s done. But you knew that trusting him again will take time.

But for now you just decided to let yourself try.

“Okay.” You said softly, your fingers curling around his, just for a second. “I’m willing to see where this goes, but only if you’re ready to put in the work. I’m not… I’m not the same girl, also I think we should take it slow, as if we’re strangers getting to know each other for the first time.”

Lewis nodded, determined to take it at your own pace, to do everything in a way that was fitting for you.

“I agree, and I’m here for all of it, every step of the way.”

You stayed like that for a moment, hands intertwined across the table, a fragile truce settling between the two of you.

You and Lewis went on many dates after that. You fell into a rhythm, one that felt new and familiar at the same time. Every date you went to was cautiously and meticulously planned, careful not to move too fast. The race weekends served as a natural buffer between you, giving you both time to think, to reflect, to let things sink in. it allowed you space to breathe, to process your feelings without being overwhelmed by his presence.

It's been over two months since you and Lewis started seeing each other again, and you’re both still taking things slow, not crossing any lines yet. This date had been simple, understated, just an evening of good food and easy conversations and laughter. Lewis surprised you with a reservation at a cosy, intimate restaurant tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place where you could lose yourself to the conversation without the noise of the world intruding. It was comfortable as if you were slowly shedding the weight of the past and finding each other once again.

After dinner Lewis drove you back to your flat. You had fallen into a comfortable silence on the drive, just exchanging small smiles every now and again. He looked relaxed, happy even, his hand resting on the gear shift as he glanced over at you. when you reached your building, he stepped out of the car to walk you to the door.

You both stood there under the soft glow of the building lights, the silence stretched for a bit, neither of you wanting to end the night and say goodbye. You swallowed glancing down at your keys, nerves suddenly overtaking your senses. You’re not sure if the next step is the right one, but you felt it was. Is it okay now to start doing some of what your heart is telling you to do?

“Would you… like to come up?” The words left your lips before you could overthink it anymore. Your voice was timid, a whisper. Your eyes met his as your heart hammered in your chest. And for a moment, you were worried that you misread things, that maybe it was too soon.

“Only if you’re sure.” Lewis’s eyes were soft, and he was reassuring you with a smile.

“I am.” You nodded, releasing a long breath.

Inside your flat the atmosphere shifted; it became more intense. You poured each of you a glass of wine, Lewis may not be the biggest drinker, but you know he didn’t mind indulging in wine every now and again. You settled on the sofa next to the window, your flat wasn’t on the water, like his, but it had nice views of Monaco, being high enough. The lights were dim inside, but the city lights added just enough. The conversation drifted from the date to his latest race, and eventually some of the memories you shared. Memories that aren’t so hard for you to share now.

Eventually the conversation slowed, dwindling down to a comfortable silence, filled only with a longing that you both shared. And just like that the magnet that pulled you together once before, is back again. And you found yourself leaning forward, drawn to Lewis, your heart racing. Lewis waited to a beat, wanting to be sure that this is what you really wanted, before he closed the distance between the two of you. his lips brushed yours, softly at first, having to be 100% that he didn’t misunderstand your intentions. When you didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, one hand finding its way to your cheek, his thumb gently tracing your skin.

You moved together in an unhurried movement, moving together in sync. This all felt familiar, but also new. You still kissed the same, your lips felt the same, but you tasted and smelled different. There was no rush in the touches you both shared, savouring every moment.

You don’t know how or when, but Lewis’s lips barely left yours, you made it to your bedroom. Lewis held you close his arms wrapped around you, having you flush against him.

Lewis didn’t let go of you, not when you were done and laying on the bed in the dark. You rested your head on his chest, your heart settled into a steady rhythm against his. What you’re feeling right now, is something you haven’t felt in so long. Warm, loved, cared for, satisfied and happy.

Over the next few weeks, you spent more and more time with Lewis, every moment he had that was free he spent with you. you found yourself at his house a lot nowadays. It started slow, spending the weekend off at his place. In the mornings Lewis would make you tea/coffee in his kitchen, evenings curled up on his sofa after long days. And once more his house started to feel like home. Lewis didn’t realise how much he didn’t feel like going home or spending a lot of time in house, until he had you spend time there and he realised that you made his house a home.

And don’t get me started on Roscoe, the first time he trotted over to you, you dropped to your knees, laughing as he nuzzled into you as though, he too, had missed your presence. You were surprised with how much you missed him, all the cuddles and walks you’d go on.

Tonight was one of those quiet, intimate nights at Lewis’s, and you were wrapped in one of his oversized sweaters, tucked on the sofa into Lewis’s side, Roscoe sleeping on his bed in the corner of the living room. The lights were off, widows open, and candles light. And for a while you talked about your week, the week he was working in.

“You know…” You started after a long stretch of silence, both of you lost in thought. Lewis turned to look at you, his hand playing with your hair. “I-uh- I don’t think I’ve ever felt as alone as I did after we broke up.” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, the words were hard to say, but you felt the need to say them. Lewis tightened his hold on you.

“Yeah, it was like there was this huge part of my life just missing. And for a while, I tried to fill it with other things, my career, people, distractions.” His voice cracked as he continued. “But none of it could ever replace you.”

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze, fingers gently brushing his cheeks.

“I thought I’d be fine on my own.” You admitted, your tone tinged with bittersweet sadness. “I told myself it was for the best, that I’d be okay. But every time something happened, every good, every bad, I’d reach for my phone to call or text you… and then I’d remember that you’re not there anymore.”

“I know what you mean, I missed you so much.” You watched as Lewis’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting your feelings. “Sometimes I’d wake up thinking you were next to me, and it’d hit me all over again that you were gone. I was lonely in a way I’d never felt before. It made me realise how much you meant to me.

You looked down tracing your fingers over his hand, you turned his hand and laced it with yours.

“I don’t want to feel like that again, I don’t want us to go back to that place.” You whispered.

“Neither do I.” Lewis nodded; his gaze intense as he looked at you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we never end up there again, losing you once was hard enough, I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Lewis lifted your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

You sat in silence after that, words no longer necessary. For the first time in years, the ache of the past began to fade, replaced by warmth. You were both broken by your separation, finding strength while apart, but realising you’re even stronger together. And as you laid your head on his shoulder, your heart calmed down, knowing that you’re content, happy and your heart is safe with him.

Bonus scene:

You and Lewis are lying in bed naked, both sweaty and breathing heavily. You laid on your stomach and Lewis on his back beside you. After you’ve both calmed down Lewis turned on his side and placed his hand on your back before moving to the tattoo, the one you got with him, and he helped you choose.

“You didn’t get it covered up.” Lewis commented, his voice soft and gentle, you hummed and reached your hand out blindly to where you knew he had a tattoo with the same art, matching tattoos without them actually matching.

“Neither did you.” You say and slowly turn to face him, his hand stays on your skin. You’re now both facing each other.

“I have so many tattoos.” Lewis pointed out, he definitely had more than you.

“And I have you.” You tell him and lean in, pressing your lips to him softly, it was just pressing of lips together, slow and loving. “Hmm, do you have space for another one?”

Lewis leaned back just enough to look at you, raising an eyebrow. “Where are you thinking?”

“Hm.” You hum and start moving your hand from his side to his back, where you know there’s no space. Lewis doesn’t take his eyes away from yours, holding a steady eye contact. Your hand slowly wanders back to his side and down to his hip before moving to his but, which you squeeze a bit. “Here?” Lewis says nothing, just lets out a breath. “Or maybe…” Your voice drops an octave as your hand moves from his butt to his side to his hip bone, to his abdomen and then ever so slowly you move down, down, down. “Here?”

Lewis sucks in a breath feeling your hand around him. “Insatiable vixen.” He groans and you squeeze before he’s back on top of you and you’re a giggling mess. “You’ll be the death of me, love.”

Main Taglist: @gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

stuff we did — geto suguru.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?” Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.” You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?” Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.” You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/ Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Suguru, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Comfort, Falling In Love, Pining, Slice of Life, Humor, Domesticity, Miscarriage, Infertility, Character Death, Depiction of Infertility, Depiction of Hospital Visit, Depiction of Illness, Depiction of Old Age, Mention of Miscarriage, Mention of Infertility, Mention of Character Death, This Is One Of My Favorites In A Long Whille, My Writing Vault Is Just Angst;

WORDS: 8.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was written a while while back and i just finished proof reading it to suit what i wanted to see. this was inspired by both queen of tears and the film up, which was just the most beautiful movie ive seen over and over. i hope you enjoy this a lot and that you'll be just as moved as me. i promise i'll be back with fluff soon enough!!! i genuinely cried at the end. anyway, i hope you love it. i love you guys!!! thank you for reading <3

masterlist

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A WHOLE LIFETIME WAS WAITING FOR HIM. At ten years old, Suguru Geto was a dreamer with a spark in his eyes that hinted at a life full of exploration and wonder.

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It was an ordinary afternoon, the sun casting long shadows as you wandered through the neighborhood, when you stumbled upon the abandoned house. Its once-grand façade was now a patchwork of peeling paint and overgrown vines, and the wooden fence sagged in places, as if it were barely holding on to its secrets.

You had been intrigued by the house for weeks, often imagining what mysteries lay behind its dust-covered windows. That day, you decided to finally investigate, only to find someone already there. Suguru was crouched by the front gate, peering through the rusty bars with a look of intense concentration.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?”

Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.”

You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?”

Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.”

You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

Suguru’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Let’s make it our clubhouse. We can turn it into our secret base where we plan all our adventures.”

The two of you both pushed open the creaky gate and made your way up the overgrown path to the front door. Inside, dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight filtering through the broken windows. The air was musty, but the promise of discovery filled you with a sense of excitement.

“This place is amazing!” Suguru exclaimed, running his hand along an old wooden beam. “Imagine all the things we could do here, don’t you think? We could have treasure hunts, build secret compartments, and even create maps of our adventures!”

You smiled, already swept up in the excitement. “And we could scrapbook all of our adventures. I’ve got a ton of stickers and colored pens at home. We could make it like a journal of our explorations!”

Suguru’s eyes lit up with delight. “That sounds perfect. We’ll make this place the coolest clubhouse ever!”

With the possibilities swirling in both your minds, you turned to Suguru, realizing you hadn't properly introduced yourselves yet. “Oh, by the way, I’m…….”

Suguru grinned, his enthusiasm still bubbling over. “Suguru Geto. Looks like we’re gonna be partners in adventure!”

The two of you spent hours exploring every nook and cranny of the house. Suguru’s enthusiasm was contagious, pulling you deeper into the magic of the place. Every corner held a new discovery, a forgotten relic of time that sparked your imaginations. You both laughed as you uncovered old, dusty furniture, imagining all the stories it could tell.

Suguru, always the dreamer, crouched by an ancient-looking wardrobe and peered inside. “What if this belonged to a pirate?” he mused, brushing away cobwebs. “Maybe they stashed their maps and treasures in here before sailing off for another adventure.”

You chuckled, running your fingers over the faded carvings on a wooden chair. “Or maybe it was a writer, sitting here every night by candlelight, crafting tales of far-off lands.”

Suguru stood up, eyes gleaming. “We could be the next storytellers! We can make up stories about this place—maybe even start our own treasure hunt for future explorers.”

“I love that idea!” you grinned, already envisioning the elaborate maps and clues you could create together. “This whole house could be our playground.”

As you explored further, you found hidden doorways and forgotten passageways, each discovery filling you both with a sense of wonder. There was an old attic with creaky floorboards that groaned under your weight, and a cellar that held shelves of ancient, dusty jars—relics of a time long past. Suguru’s energy never faltered, and neither did yours. It was as if the house had become an extension of your shared imagination, every forgotten room a new world to explore.

At one point, Suguru turned to you, breathless from excitement. “Can you believe how much potential this place has? We could make it anything we want! A fortress, a secret hideout, a museum for all the stuff we find!”

You nodded eagerly, already planning how you’d decorate each room with artifacts from your adventures. “We’ll turn it into our own world.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “We’ve gotta make sure no one else finds it, though. This is our secret spot.”

“Deal!” you said, sealing the pact with a grin.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the house, Suguru turned to you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, one day we’re going to see the whole world. Just like those great explorers. This clubhouse will be our starting point.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of deep connection with Suguru. “I’d like that. I think we’ll have the best adventures together.”

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YOU THINK THAT ADVENTURE WAS THE WAY TO GETO SUGURU’S HEART. When you started to get to know him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Suguru’s eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement whenever the topic of exploration came up.

It was as though each conversation opened a window into his boundless curiosity, and you found yourself drawn to the light in his gaze, the way it brightened with every new idea or story he shared.

Geto Suguru’s fascination with the world wasn’t just a passing interest—it was a deep passion, woven into the very fabric of who he was. He could turn even the smallest details into an adventure, transforming mundane objects or places into portals to other worlds. You can tell that he was a born story–teller. Born to know the wonders of the wider world.

Whenever he spoke of famous explorers, his voice would rise with enthusiasm, as if their courage and daring lived within him. Marco Polo’s travels along the Silk Road, Amelia Earhart’s fearless flight into the unknown—Suguru recounted their tales with such vivid detail, it felt as though you were right there alongside them, venturing into uncharted lands.

“He didn’t just travel, you know what I mean?” Suguru once said of Marco Polo, eyes alight with admiration. “That guy managed to help open some doors to a whole new world. Can you imagine that? Being the first to set foot somewhere no one even knew existed?”

You nodded, already swept up in the vision he painted as you kicked your feet. “It’s like the whole world was waiting to be found.”

Suguru smiled, and there was a quiet thrill in his voice. “Exactly! That’s the magic of it—everything’s an adventure if you look at it the right way.”

It didn’t take long before his excitement became infectious. These days, you just feel like that when you are around Suguru. Just as quickly, you could only find yourself equally captivated by the idea of exploring far-off places and uncovering their mysteries. Geto Suguru had a way of making even the ordinary seem extraordinary.

He would point out things that others might pass by without a second glance—a strange rock, an oddly shaped tree, or even the patterns in the clouds—and turn them into puzzles waiting to be solved. His mind was always buzzing with “what-ifs” and “maybes” sparking conversations that seemed to stretch on for hours as you both imagined worlds within worlds, hidden just beneath the surface of reality.

“I wonder what it would be like to be Amelia Earhart too!” he mused once, as you both sat on a hill, gazing at the horizon. “To fly into the unknown, chasing the horizon, not knowing what’s on the other side but going anyway.”

“Scary, but exciting, don’t you think?” you replied, feeling a twinge of that same wanderlust Suguru seemed to carry with him at all times. “It’s like you’re both lost and free at the same time.”

Suguru nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. The unknown is terrifying, but that’s what makes it so… beautiful. There’s always something more to discover. And I…I just can’t wait to find out all of it!”

It was moments like these that deepened your bond. His wonderment was contagious, and soon you began to see the world through his eyes, where even the smallest things held the promise of adventure. Whether it was the forgotten corners of an old house or the distant lands of long-gone explorers, with Suguru, everything became part of an ongoing quest.

You realized that it wasn’t just about the places you would explore, but the way he looked at the world—with a wide-eyed excitement that made you feel like every day held a new mystery, waiting to be uncovered. And you wanted to be there with him. Just beside him. Because to be with him, you like to think that you would find nothing but a wonder if you were there.

He had a knack for finding the magic in the mundane, and it opened your own bright eyes to the wonders around you. What once seemed ordinary now felt like it held endless possibilities, all thanks to Suguru’s infectious spirit.

He showed you that adventure wasn’t just something that happened in faraway places—it could be anywhere, even in the most unexpected moments. You didn’t have to cross oceans to find excitement; sometimes, it was right in front of you, if only you knew where to look. And with Suguru, you were learning how to see it.

This weekend afternoon, as you and Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor of your clubhouse, surrounded by colorful supplies and old maps, Suguru began sharing his latest dream with you. The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting a warm, golden light on the room.

“You know…..” Suguru said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “I read about this amazing place called the Himalayas. It’s full of towering mountains, and some of them are so high that they touch the sky. Can you imagine climbing one of those?”

You looked up from your sketchbook, eyes wide with wonder. “That sounds incredible! What would it be like to stand on top of one of those mountains?”

Suguru’s face broke into a smile as he imagined the scene. You like to think that he had the most beautiful smile in the world. “It would be breathtaking. You’d feel like you’re on top of the world. And there’s this special mountain called Everest—people say it’s like touching the edge of the heavens!”

With a gleeful chuckle, Suguru grabbed a pencil and began sketching a mountain range in your scrapbook. “We should definitely put this in our adventure book. We’ll draw mountains and imagine ourselves climbing them.”

You nodded eagerly, already picturing the pages of your scrapbook filled with sketches and notes. “Absolutely. And we can write about all the things we’d see and do. Maybe we’ll even draw ourselves in climbing gear, standing triumphantly at the summit!”

As the weeks went by, the scrapbook became a canvas for your shared dreams. Each page was a tribute to the places Suguru talked about with such passion. There were intricate drawings of ocean vistas, with waves crashing against rocky shores, and sprawling cityscapes with towering skyscrapers and bustling streets.

Geto Suguru’s descriptions were so vivid that you could almost hear the sounds and smell the scents of these distant lands. He just knew how to give you the wide world to you in the vibrant brighteness no one could.

As you worked on the scrapbook together, Suguru’s excitement reached a new peak. “I’ve been reading about this incredible city called Istanbul. It’s where East meets West, and there are markets full of colorful spices and beautiful mosaics everywhere. I think it would be amazing to see it in person.”

You looked at the sketch Suguru had just added, depicting a bustling market scene with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. “It looks so lively and full of culture. I’d love to experience it with you. Maybe we could even learn a few phrases in Turkish before we go.”

Suguru nodded, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Yes! And we can try all the different foods and maybe even buy some souvenirs to bring back to our clubhouse.”

As the scrapbook filled up, it became a treasure trove of aspirations and memories. The house, once an abandoned relic, was now a haven for your dreams, where the world beyond your doorstep felt just a little bit smaller and a whole lot more reachable.

As you look at him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your scrapbook would be an adventure as long as you had him.

IT WAS EASY TO SEE THAT YOU LIKED HIM. As the years passed, as you both grew older—the bond between you and Suguru deepened in ways that neither of you had anticipated. Nothing has changed and yet it has.

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You couldn’t even understand how you could describe it. What had begun as a playful friendship, sparked by shared adventures and dreams, evolved into a profound connection that anchored both of your lives moving forward.

The seasons changed, and so did the nature of your relationship. As the crisp air of autumn gave way to the first frost of winter, something subtle yet profound shifted between you two.

Your weekends, once filled with the solitary pursuit of sketching mountains far off in the distance or wistfully dreaming of cities you had yet to explore, began to take on a new rhythm. These quiet moments of creativity were now shared, woven into times of meaningful conversations that deepened your connection.

The clubhouse, once a refuge for your art and ideas, had evolved alongside you both. It was no longer just a place to retreat but had grown into a cozy home filled with warmth and a sense of belonging. The walls, once bare and practical, were now alive with a collage of your memories—scrapbook pages pinned up like trophies of the adventures you’d had together.

Here, in the dim light of your clubhouse-turned-home, time seemed to slow. Conversations stretched long into the evening, filled with laughter, confessions, and sometimes a comfortable silence that spoke more than words ever could.

You realized that it wasn't just about the places you wanted to visit or the mountains you hoped to climb. It was about these moments—right here, right now—that had been shaping the most important journey of all: the one you were taking together.

You and Suguru sat on the porch of your clubhouse. The place had become a sanctuary for the two of you, and tonight, it felt even more so. Wrapped in thick, warm blankets, you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft gold, pink, and lavender. The fading light bathed the world in a warm, almost magical glow, a contrast to the growing chill in the air.

But something else lingered in the quiet of that evening—an unspoken tension. Suguru, always steady and thoughtful, had been unusually silent. You could sense that something weighed heavily on his mind. His usual animated presence, the one that balanced your own, seemed subdued.

He stared out at the trees, their leaves a patchwork of fiery reds and oranges, but his thoughts were clearly somewhere else. The contemplative look on his face was deeper than the usual moments of introspection he had.

You knew him well enough to understand that silence was part of who he was—he often found comfort in it—but this was different. This wasn’t just quiet; it was an absence of something.

The air, cool against your skin, seemed to press in, amplifying the stillness between you. It felt as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to be said. You didn’t push him; you knew better than that.

With Suguru, patience was key. He always opened up in his own time, and when he did, it was always worth the wait. You could tell he was wrestling with something important—something that couldn’t be rushed.

You glanced over at him, his face softened by the golden light of the setting sun. His expression was unreadable, yet you could sense the conflict beneath the surface.

It was as though the quiet had become a shield for him, a way to protect himself from whatever thoughts he was trying to sort out. You wondered if he even knew how to begin talking about it, or if he was still trying to make sense of it for himself.

The porch creaked as you shifted slightly in your seat, the only sound breaking the stillness. The leaves continued to fall, gently drifting to the ground, but the world around you felt frozen in that moment, waiting for Suguru to speak. Whatever was on his mind, you knew it was important, and you were ready to listen when he was ready to share.

You glanced at him, sensing that something was on his mind. “Hey, Suguru.” you said gently, “is everything okay? You seem a bit… distant.”

Suguru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began slowly, “about us, and about everything we’ve shared.”

You felt a flutter of nerves in your chest but kept your voice steady. “What about us?”

Suguru took a deep breath, his fingers intertwined with yours. “You know how we’ve always dreamed about exploring the world together? Well, lately, I’ve been thinking that the greatest adventure of all is the one we’re already on. The one where we’re building a life together.”

You looked at him, your heart racing as you realized what he was about to say. Suguru’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he continued, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. You’ve been my partner in every adventure, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The world seemed to pause as you processed his words. Your feelings for Suguru had grown from admiration and friendship into a deep, abiding love. You had felt it for some time but hadn’t fully acknowledged it until this moment.

“I love you too, Suguru.” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re my best friend, my confidant, and the person I want to share my life with.”

Suguru’s bright purple eyes sparkled with happiness, and he reached out to hold you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you felt a profound sense of belonging. From that evening onward, your relationship transformed.

You both began to plan not just for the next adventure but for a future together. You talked about dreams of traveling the world, but also about building a home, starting a family, and creating a life rich with shared experiences.

The future you envisioned was no longer just about distant places or grand plans; it was about the everyday moments and the life you would build side by side. You found joy in the small things—quiet dinners, laughter over shared memories, and the simple pleasure of being together. And for each of those moments, you would both be together. For every last one.

And from that moment, everything felt like a flash, a blur of time passing with both rapidity and grace. Years slipped through your fingers like sand, but each one seemed to deepen the bond you and Suguru shared.

You both arrived at the house, this time not as wide-eyed dreamers, but as people ready to take action. You were equipped with the resources, knowledge, and expertise that had been hard-earned over the years. What once seemed impossible now felt within reach.

The house had transformed, much like the relationship you shared. The wild, overgrown vines that had once snaked across its facade had been cut away, revealing the clean lines of the structure underneath.

The sagging fence, which had leaned precariously for years, had been replaced by a sturdy, welcoming one. Even the gate—the one that had creaked and stuck when you were kids—now swung open smoothly, inviting you in with a sense of ease and possibility.

Standing there together, gazing at the house, the nostalgia hit you both in waves. You could still remember the first time you stumbled upon it, back when the future felt like a distant, far-off dream. But now, it wasn’t distant anymore. It was here, within your grasp.

The silence between you was comfortable, filled with anticipation and a shared understanding. You both knew this wasn’t just about restoring an old house. It was about building something together—something that was uniquely yours.

This house, with all its history and imperfections, was about to become the home you had always envisioned. It wasn’t just a physical space. It was a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you had grown into, and everything you had yet to become.

As you exchanged a glance with Suguru, you didn’t need words to know what he was thinking. The years had brought change, but they had also brought clarity. Together, you had always been building something—first with your dreams, then with your actions. And now, you were ready to take that final step, to make this place your home.

“Look at it, baby!” Suguru exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he gazed at the house. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement and pride you hadn't seen in a while. “It’s incredible to see how far we’ve come. I remember the first time we explored this place, imagining what it could become.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in the sight before you. “It’s amazing. It feels like we’re finally turning our dreams into reality.”

The house had been a vision for so long—an idea you had held onto through thick and thin. Now, as you stood in front of the freshly painted exterior, with the sun glinting off the windows and the scent of fresh grass in the air, it was hard to believe that this place had once been nothing more than an abandoned shell. But it was no longer just an idea or a distant goal. It was real, solid, and yours.

Suguru picked up a paint roller, dipped it into the bucket of soft, pastel blue paint you had both agreed on, and turned toward the wall with a grin. “This is the fun part, don’t you think?” he said, rolling a stripe of color onto the previously bare wood. “It’s like coloring outside the lines, but now we get to make the lines too.”

You laughed and grabbed your own roller, eager to join in. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, mister. This is a team effort.”

Soon, the two of you were painting side by side, your laughter filling the crisp air as you carefully applied the vibrant colors to your home. The soft hum of birds chirping in the distance and the gentle rustling of leaves set the perfect backdrop for your playful banter. Every brushstroke felt like a step closer to bringing your shared vision to life.

At one point, Suguru turned toward you, his roller dripping with paint, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “You know what’s missing here?” he asked, his voice playful.

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be suspicious. “What?”

“An artist's touch!” Before you could react, Suguru flicked his roller in your direction, sending a spray of pastel blue paint across your shirt.

Your eyes widened in mock horror as you looked down at the splatters of paint now decorating your clothes. “Suguru!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-gasping. “You’re in so much trouble!”

Without hesitation, you dipped your roller into the paint and aimed it squarely at him, sending a cascade of blue across his chest. Suguru's bright purple eyes went wide in surprise, then he broke into a wide grin.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, stepping toward you with his paintbrush raised like a sword. What started as an innocent painting session quickly turned into a playful paint war, the walls momentarily forgotten as you splattered each other with streaks of pastel blue.

You squealed as he rushed off with a dash and followed you. His laughter was just as much the best part of the progress you think. It was like the music that was missing in your life. And it never stopped that afternoon and you were content.

The soft spring breeze carried your laughter, and for a few moments, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Suguru, in the moment, covered in paint and joy.

At some point, you collapsed onto the grass together, breathless from laughter and covered in splashes of color. The house loomed behind you, its newly painted walls gleaming in the sunlight, but all you could focus on was the way Suguru looked at you, his face smeared with paint, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.

He reached over and gently wiped a smudge of blue from your cheek, his touch tender. “Look at us, baby.” he said softly, his voice a mix of awe and affection. “We’re a mess, but this—everything we’ve built together—it’s beautiful.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Yeah babe.” you agreed, your heart full. “It really is.”

Just like that, this once old abandoned soul was starting to come back to life before your eyes. It reminded you of all those dreams you had shared with Suguru for so many years. And in that moment, as you sat in the grass with your husband—covered in paint, laughter, and love—you realized that this, right here, was the real dream coming true.

That cool summer night as you both sat together on the porch of your newly renovated home, watching the sunset paint the sky with shades of pink and orange, Suguru turned to you with a contented smile. You had never seen him this happy in your entire lives together. And it suited him. More than you think he’d understand.

“I never imagined this day would come, but here we are. Our adventures didn’t just remain on paper anymore, baby. They became a reality now.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “It’s incredible. We’ve seen so much of the world, and now we have this beautiful home that’s a reflection of our journey.”

With your home now complete, you and Suguru embarked on a new chapter of your life.

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LIFE EVEN IN ITS MOST MUNDANE WAS EVERYTHING. As the years went by, your and Suguru’s paths continued to align in the most fulfilling ways. Suguru, inspired by his love for learning and his experiences, decided to become a teacher, just like you.

Both of you found immense satisfaction in shaping young minds and sharing your passion for knowledge. Your combined efforts in education became a cornerstone of your lives, and it was a field where your love for exploration and discovery seamlessly translated into inspiring others.

Your old friends, who had once joined you in those early childhood adventures, also found their way into the field of education. Together, you formed a tight-knit community of educators, all driven by a shared passion for helping students explore their potential. The clubhouse, once the backdrop for your childhood dreams, had become a symbol of your commitment to fostering curiosity and creativity in the next generation.

Even your nights you spent in your home were often filled with lively discussions about teaching methods, innovative ideas for the classroom, and the exciting possibilities of new educational tools.

Your love of exploration, once confined to distant lands, now found a new outlet in the classroom. You and Suguru worked together on projects that encouraged students to think critically and explore the world around them, just as you had done as children.

Suguru, with a nostalgic smile, traced his fingers over a particularly cherished page. “Remember this, baby?” he said, pointing to a sketch of the Himalayas. “We were so excited about climbing those mountains. And now, look at us—living our dreams and sharing them with others.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I do remember. And I’m so grateful for everything we’ve experienced together. This scrapbook is a reminder of how far we’ve come and all the dreams we’ve made real.”

As you both looked through the pages, you realized that the scrapbook was more than just a record of your adventures—it was a reflection of your journey as a couple. It symbolized not only the places you had been and the things you had done but also the love and partnership that had grown alongside them. Everything was perfect. Nothing could be better.

Your careers were flourishing, and life with Geto Suguru was a tapestry of shared happiness. The bond between you had only deepened over time, each day bringing a new layer of intimacy and understanding.

It was as though your relationship had found a perfect equilibrium, a serene joy that seemed like it could stretch on indefinitely. Your home was filled with the warmth of laughter, the comfort of companionship, and the contentment of having achieved many of your dreams. But still, you felt like something was missing. And your husband knew it too.

Suguru, with his usual thoughtful demeanor, was the first to broach the topic. “You know, baby….” he began, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. “We've built something incredible together. Our careers, our lovely home… Everything feels right. But have you ever thought about what might come next?”

You turned to face him, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” you asked, sensing that there was something more beneath his words.

Suguru hesitated for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Well, we’ve talked about our future in many ways, but lately, I’ve been thinking about children. About…..about what it might be like to have a family of our own.”

Your husband’s tender words hung in the air, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The idea had surfaced in fleeting thoughts and half-formed conversations, but hearing it out loud made it feel more real, more tangible.

You considered his words carefully. The thought of children had always been a distant possibility, a dream tucked away among other aspirations. But now, in the warmth of the evening and the comfort of your home, it feels different. It was no longer just an abstract idea; it was something you were both ready to explore.

“I’ve thought about it too, babe.” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “It’s strange how this feeling crept up on us. I suppose we always knew that our life together would be about more than just us, that there would be something else to share our love and our world with.”

Suguru reached out and took your hand, his touch reassuring and full of promise. “I think it could be a beautiful next step for us, you know? I know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges, but I can’t help but feel that it’s the right time.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. “I agree. It feels like we’re ready to open up to this new chapter. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else but you.”

And that settled your desires to begin unfolding. You both wanted it — to have a family together, to raise a child that would be a reflection of your love. The excitement was palpable, filling the days with a hopeful kind of anticipation. You tried, again and again, but it wasn’t long before the first signs appeared, subtle at first. A growing worry gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, willing everything to be okay.

Then came the miscarriage.

The room was heavy with silence, the kind that feels suffocating and oppressive. Your eyes were red from the tears you had shed, each one a testament to the depth of your loss. The sterile whiteness of the doctor's office seemed to mock the vibrant dreams you had once held.

The doctor’s words were like a sharp blade cutting through the haze of hope you had been clinging to. “You won’t be able to have children, Mrs. Geto. I am so sorry.” he said softly, his voice compassionate but firm.

The words hung in the air, each syllable a painful puncture to the fragile balloon of hope that had floated between you and Suguru. At that moment, the world seemed to fall apart.

The colors of the room blurred together, the sounds of the doctor’s voice faded into a distant hum, and the only thing that remained was the crushing weight of the news. It was as if the very foundation of your dreams had shattered, leaving behind a void that seemed too vast to fill.

The future you had imagined—of shared late-night feedings, tiny feet pattering around the house, the joy of watching a child grow—was now nothing more than a distant, unreachable fantasy. The dream you and Suguru had so carefully built together crumbled, leaving behind an aching emptiness that felt like a gaping hole in your heart.

You looked at Suguru, and in his eyes, you saw the same devastation mirrored back at you. The strength and support that had always been a cornerstone of your relationship now felt fragile, as if the very fabric of your shared hopes had been torn apart. His hand reached for yours, trembling slightly, and you could feel the shared grief pulsing between you.

As you and Suguru drove home, the silence in the car was almost unbearable. The world outside seemed muted, as if the colors and sounds had been drained away. The roads stretched out in front of you, but they felt meaningless, like they led nowhere important. The weight of the news settled heavily on your shoulders, and neither of you knew how to break the quiet.

For days, you were unapproachable, lost in a fog of devastation. The loss felt like a gaping chasm that nothing could fill. Conversations became infrequent and strained, and even the comfort of routine seemed distant and hollow. Suguru was there, his presence a constant but silent support, and though he tried to offer solace, the words and gestures seemed inadequate against the depth of your shared grief.

The stillness in the house felt almost oppressive. You found yourself sitting alone in the backyard, the garden now a quiet reflection of your internal turmoil. The familiar sight of your favorite flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves seemed to offer no solace. You sat there, wrapped in a blanket of melancholy, trying to make sense of the void that had settled in your life.

Suguru came out and joined you, quietly taking a seat beside you on the patio. He took a deep breath, the kind that seemed to carry the weight of the world. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, his presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions.

“You know, baby…..” he began softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence, “it’s okay to feel like this. It’s okay to not have all the answers or to be okay right away.”

His words were simple but carried a depth of understanding that only someone who truly cared could offer. You turned to look at him, seeing the pain and determination in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to move past this.” you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I know.” He whispers to you with tenderness. Tenderness you will never truly deserve. “But you know, baby…..We’ll always be together.”

“I know that.” you retorted, your voice tight and strained as you tried to contain the wave of emotion threatening to break free. “But I just… I wish I could have given you a child, you know? A child that’s a mix of you and me. I just…”

Your words trailed off, leaving a raw vulnerability exposed. The weight of your regrets hung heavily in the air, mingling with the sorrow that had become a constant companion. Suguru’s eyes, usually so full of life and energy, now reflected a deep, pained empathy.

His purple orbs roamed over your face, taking in the sight of you so broken and anguished. The sight of you in such distress was almost too much for him to bear. His own heart ached at the realization that there was little he could do to ease your pain.

“Does our lifetime of love need to leave evidence?” Suguru asked softly, his voice tender yet resolute. “Does…..does it need more than what there is?”

His question wasn’t just a consolation; it was a reflection of his deep belief in the essence of your relationship. You turned to him, the tears welling in your eyes now spilling over, blurring your vision. The raw honesty in his words cut through the fog of your grief, reaching the core of your heart.

“We have each other now, baby.” Suguru continued, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “And we love each other. That’s all that matters.”

His words were simple but powerful, a balm to the wound that had seemed insurmountable. His words broke something inside of you, not in a painful way, but in a way that let all the pent-up sorrow flow out.

You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, and Suguru wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to. In his embrace, in the warmth of his presence, you found the reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

You cried for the loss, for the future you had dreamed of, but you also cried for the love you still had. Suguru was right. You had each other, and in that love, you found strength. That’s all that truly mattered.

Geto Suguru held you close as your tears flowed, his hands gently rubbing your back, whispering words of comfort that barely reached your ears. But his presence, steady and unwavering, spoke louder than any words could.

In his arms, you found a fragile sense of peace, a reminder that even in this moment of heartbreak, you weren’t alone. His touch was familiar, grounding, and you turned to look at him. There was a tenderness in his eyes, a deep understanding that made your heart ache in the best way. He smiled at you.

“I know this isn’t what we imagined.” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I’ve been thinking… Maybe it’s okay if our love doesn’t leave a legacy in the way we thought. Maybe our love can just be… us.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling into your heart. Suguru had always been your anchor, the person who knew how to pull you back when the world felt too overwhelming. In that moment, you realized that maybe he was right.

Maybe your love didn’t need to be measured by the future you had imagined, by the children you thought you would have. Maybe it was enough to have each other, to share this life together, and to hold onto the love that had always been there. Maybe this was all there has to be. Maybe….this was enough.

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t filled with sorrow. You squeezed Suguru’s hand, leaning into his warmth. “I love you.” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “I love you so much.”

He pulled you into his arms once more, his lips brushing against your temple. “I love you too. Always.”

In that quiet moment, you realized that while the future you had once dreamed of was no longer possible, there was still a future waiting for you. A future where it was just the two of you, building a life together, creating memories that were uniquely yours. And as long as you had Suguru by your side, that was enough.

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YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOUR HUSBAND’S DREAMS WERE BEAUTIFUL. Even after everything, your husband Suguru had always been a dreamer. He never gave up even after the rollercoaster life had dealt you. Everything you both went through—the heartache, the healing—he found a new dream. It was no longer about building a family or leaving a legacy.

His new dream was much simpler, yet so much more meaningful: seeing the world with you. He wanted to explore every corner of the earth by your side, to share in the beauty of new experiences together, and to make memories that would last a lifetime.

There was one place, in particular, that you had always talked about—Grindelwald. The snow-covered mountains, the crisp winter air, the breathtaking views from atop the peaks.

It was a dream you had held close for as long as Suguru could remember, and now, it had become his dream too. He wanted nothing more than to take you there, to hike those snow-dusted trails and see the world unfold beneath you, together.

The two of you started saving for the trip, setting aside small amounts whenever you could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the dream alive. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Each time you neared your goal, something else would come up—unexpected expenses, repairs, emergencies. And each time, you had to dip into your savings, pushing the dream further and further away.

The years passed, and the dream remained just that—a dream. Life after all was always busy, life had always had other plans. But you were just happy, being with him. Being together was more than enough.

Yet, Geto Suguru never gave up. He never forgot the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about seeing pictures of Grindelwald, and he was determined to make it happen one day, no matter how long it took.

Then, one quiet evening, many years later, your husband Suguru sat across from you, his once dark hair now streaked with bright vibrant silver. His hands were still steady, but time had softened their strength. He looked at you with the same love he always had, and there was something different in his eyes—something hopeful, something excited.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two plane tickets, holding them out for you to see.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the destination: Switzerland.

“We’re going, finally!” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re finally going to see Grindelwald.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a cascade of emotions threatening to spill over, but before you could voice a response, an unfamiliar, sharp ache deep within your body made you pause. It was a discomfort that had been gnawing at you for some time, a persistent shadow that you had tried to ignore.

At first, you dismissed it as stress or perhaps a lingering side effect of the emotional turmoil you had been through. But as the days turned into weeks, the ache intensified, becoming an unwelcome companion in your life.

You tried to push through it, attributing it to the residual strain of the recent loss and the emotional weight you were carrying. Yet, the pain was relentless, and it wasn’t long before you knew you could no longer ignore it. After several visits to various doctors, numerous tests, and consultations that felt endless, the diagnosis finally came: cancer.

The words hit you like a physical blow, the gravity of the diagnosis sinking into your bones. Cancer. It was a term that seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainty. The doctors’ explanations, though thorough and compassionate, felt distant and detached, as if they were speaking a language you couldn’t quite grasp.

The news was like a seismic shift in your world. It felt as though everything you had been trying to hold together was unraveling. The tears that had been welling up before were now flowing freely, mingling with the shock and fear that gripped you. You tried to process it all, but the weight of the diagnosis was overwhelming. It was as if the universe had decided to compound your grief with a new and daunting challenge.

You found yourself grappling with the implications of the diagnosis, trying to come to terms with the reality of what lay ahead. The future that had once seemed so full of potential and hope was now clouded by uncertainty. The plans and dreams you had cherished were overshadowed by the looming shadow of illness.

Suguru was there, his presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. His own emotions were a mix of concern and determination, but he tried to remain strong for you. In the quiet moments, as you both grappled with the weight of the diagnosis, he held you close, offering a solace that words couldn’t fully convey.

Everything about it was a crushing blow. But Suguru held firm and so did you. You wanted to fight it. After all that time, your dreams together were about to come true. You didn’t want to give up just yet. You wanted to live on. You wanted to go. You wanted to have more time. With him.

But life wasn’t always as one wants it to be. You were admitted to the hospital soon after, the trip to Switzerland slipping away, replaced by sterile rooms and treatment plans. Geto Suguru was devastated. He had waited so long, saved so carefully, and now, just when it seemed possible, this had happened.

But as you lay in the hospital bed, weakened but still filled with love for the man sitting beside you, you knew there was something more important than the trip, more important than the dream that never came to be.

You called him over, and with trembling hands, you handed him the scrapbook you had kept over the years—the one filled with all the adventures you’d already shared, the places you had seen together, the memories you had created.

“You’ve always been my greatest adventure, you know?” you said softly, your voice a little hoarse. “We may never get to see Grindelwald together, but that doesn’t mean the dream has to end.”

Your husband Suguru looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, unable to speak.

“I want you to keep making memories, Suguru. I want you to keep having adventures. Take the tickets, go see the world… live for both of us. Because as long as you’re alive, as long as you’re making memories, there will always be evidence that I live on too.”

Suguru’s hand tightened around yours, his tears finally falling. He shook his head, unable to imagine a world without you, without your shared dream. But you smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek.

“You’ve always been the dreamer, Suguru.” you whispered. “Don’t let that part of you die. Keep dreaming, keep living for me, for us. Our love… it’s more than just a place or a moment. It’s a lifetime of memories. And as long as you’re out there, making new ones, I’ll be with you.”

Suguru nodded, his heart breaking but understanding what you meant. You had always been his greatest love, and now, even in this painful moment, you were still giving him the strength to carry on.

As he sat by your side, holding your hand tightly, Suguru made a silent promise—to keep your love alive, to honor the life you had shared, and to one day, perhaps, stand atop those snow-covered mountains of Grindelwald, knowing that you were with him in every step, in every breath, in every memory he made.

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HE WASN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER. But he still had a promise to fulfill to you. Geto Suguru stood at the base of the trail, staring up at the towering Alps, their snow-covered peaks gleaming under the summer sun.

The path before him was steep, challenging, but it was the journey he had promised to make—for you, for both of you. He reached up to touch the small locket that hung around his neck, a picture of you carefully tucked inside. Your smile was his anchor, even now, long after you were gone.

The climb was grueling, especially for someone his age. His knees ached, his breath came in short, shallow gasps, but he pressed on. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, reminding him of the dream you had shared for so many years—to see Grindelwald together, to hike these mountains and stand at the top of the world.

As he ascended, memories of you filled his mind. He could still hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his, see the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about this place.

It had been your dream, but over time, it had become his as well. Even after all those years of saving, when life had repeatedly forced you to spend the money on more pressing needs, the dream had never faded.

Now, finally, he was here. But he was alone.

Each step was harder than the last. The trail wound higher and higher, becoming more treacherous, but Suguru refused to stop. He clutched the locket, his fingers brushing over the metal as if your presence was embedded within it.

“I promised you,” he whispered to the open air, as though you were walking beside him. “I promised we’d see this together.”

It took hours, his body protesting with every movement, but at last, Suguru reached the summit. The world spread out before him, vast and beautiful, with the jagged peaks of the Alps stretching into the distance. The view was breathtaking—just as you had always said it would be.

He stood there, chest heaving, staring out at the endless sky. Tears welled in his eyes, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of the moment. He opened the locket and gazed at your face, your smiling eyes staring back at him. You should have been here with him. You should have seen this with your own eyes.

“This is for you, baby.” he murmured, his voice cracking as tears spilled down his cheeks. “We made it, love. We’re finally here.”

Suguru stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding the locket and letting the wind carry his words. The silence of the mountains felt sacred, and for a moment, he could almost feel your presence beside him, hear your voice on the breeze.

After a long while, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, framed photograph—the two of you, from years ago, standing side by side, laughing as the sun set behind you. It was a moment of joy, of love, captured forever. He knelt down carefully and placed the frame on a small, flat rock at the very peak of the mountain. The picture stood there, delicate but steadfast, a testament to the love you had shared.

Suguru stood back, his gaze soft as he looked at the photo. He ran a trembling hand through his silvered hair, then placed his hands together, pressing the locket to his chest. “We don’t need evidence for our love, you know that, baby?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want… I want everyone to know that there was love somewhere.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“And it will be here. Always.”

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and the grass around him, as if the earth itself acknowledged his words. Suguru stood there, the weight of his age and grief heavy on his shoulders, but in his heart, there was a quiet peace. This was your place now, your memory, your love, etched into the mountains for all time.

As the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Alps, geto Suguru turned and began his descent. With each step, he carried the knowledge that your love was eternal, not bound by the constraints of time or place. It lived on—in the memories, in the moments, and now, on the very peak of the world.

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taojjang · 27 days ago

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ִ ࣪𖤐 riize spending halloween with you .ᐟ

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff + crack, warnings: spooky themes! haunted houses, fake blood, scary clowns, fake blades, a lil spooky might make u dookie pink text > reader blue text > riize

♡⸝⸝ spooky day with your silly bf

shotaro passing out candy!

since the day you and shotaro moved into your shared apartment, you always loved how festive your neighborhood was during halloween. everything was so festive with the spooky orange lights, the scary skeleton statues, the fake spiderwebs in the trees. that's why you'd never imagine spending halloween anywhere else but your home.

though you love halloween so dearly, it's clear who loves it more between the both of you. on october 1st, taro buys loads and loads of spooky decorations. he'd come home with huge bags cheering, "honey! look what i bought! do you want to help me put these up?" you could never turn down requests as adorable as his :( even if it's cold, you would be outside for hours hanging up fancy string lights and constructing little pumpkin lanterns to leave on the front lawn. you'd take a break and watch shotaro excitedly hanging cute ghosts from a tree, giggling and showing off his work. he was so serious about making your house extra festive </3

on halloween day, you and taro would sit on your front porch in matching costumes and pass out candy to the trick-or-treaters. you absolutely adore how cute taro is with kids, getting a little too generous with his grants because of how adorable they are. every time a kid would walk away, he'd turn to you and gush, “wasn't she so adorable?! ahh i can't take it!!” once the trick-or-treaters stop coming, the two of you head inside to cuddle and eat the leftover candy. “babies are so cute, don't you think? i can't wait to dress up our little one!” "you're the cutest thing, taro :("

eunseok baking spooky treats!

ever since eunseok made the cute gesture of cooking pumpkin-shaped dumplings for halloween one year, cooking has been a halloween tradition. maybe because of how delicious eunseok's pastries are, the two of you often ditch halloween parties to eat cream puffs instead >.< you'd truly leave anything behind just to enjoy a comforting meal cooked by your sweet boyfriend. once the month of october begins, you're already counting down the days until your cooking date with seok. of course, he's excited as well. but he can't help feeling a bit anxious. though you love baking with him, he tries to take the lead most times because of how clumsy you are.

this year, the two of you decided on a two-course meal; ghost-shaped dumplings and pumpkin cream puffs! the date began, the two of you looking for recipes and hunting for the ingredients in his cabinets. eunseok tried to lend you some of his trust while you cooked, but it didn't take long for your clumsiness to spike his anxiety. "darling, this looks like a bit too much flour. how much did you put?" "two cups!" "the recipe called for half." long story short, you were switched to observation duty!

you watched eunseok read the instructions and add all the ingredients to a bowl while clinging to his waist, peeking over his shoulder. here and there, he'll look back at you and allow you to mix the ingredients together (which he shouldn't have cus you ended up splashing flour all over your halloween pajamas </3). eunseok was working overtime steaming the dumplings and mixing the pastry dough, all while keeping a close eye on you so you wouldn't explode the house or something. once the pastries were in the oven, you went to the living room to pick a spooky show to watch while your chef boyfriend prepared dinner. "here darling, all done." your eyes lit up at the sight of the prettily plated food, eunseok placing it in front of you with a bunch of side dishes. "this looks good, love! thank you!" the two of you sat beside each other, indulging in the cute little dumplings. your eyes were glued on the show in front of you, but eunseok's eyes were scanning your face for signs of enjoyment. he relaxes into a soft smile when he sees your eyes light up with your cheeks stuffed with food. "how is it?" "so good! extra points cus you're cute ;3" all of his stress from looking after you melted away once he was rewarded with that sweet smile of yours.

sungchan carving pumpkins!

sungchan is probably as excited for halloween as a sugar-deficit toddler. chan has been so determined to prepare everything early for halloween, picking out costumes and little candies since the beginning of october. he’d been looking forward to wearing your matching fbi agent costumes to his friend’s costume party. but you fell ill the day before the party, not being able to completely enjoy your halloween :(

sungchan was worried sick about you, leaving everything behind to come take care of you. what you didn’t expect was him to open your bedroom door with two large pumpkins. “what the hell babe..? i thought you were buying medicine?” “oh, i forgot… but they had pumpkins on sale! buy one get one free!” you laughed at your smiling dork and mustered up the strength to go carve pumpkins in the living room, right in front of the display of spooky festivities outside of your window <3

“let’s make matching pumpkins! i can make spiderman and you can make uh… baby yoda!” “that doesn’t match but sure!” the two of you carved pumpkins together while watching peanuts, your favorite cartoon. though you felt like shit due to the lack of medication, you didn't have much time to focus on your discomfort due to your dramatic boyfriend's reaction to the gross feeling of the pumpkin guts. gosh, did you absolutely love that stupid face of his. though he was fooling around and trying to lift your spirits, sungchan remained hyperalert watching your every move, staying wary of your weak hands holding the carving knife. “let me do it for you, princess. you’re gonna get hurt.” sure enough, the both of you got hurt :) but at least the pumpkins were cute! sungchan put candles in the pumpkins and left the botched-looking jack o’lanterns by your front door. “all done! i should probably go buy your medicine now, huh…” “just come inside and cuddle me..!”

wonbin watching scary films!

you’ve been dying to go to a haunted house with wonbin for months now. but due to reasons unbeknown to you, he’s always turned you down. he comes up with a different excuse every time, like “it’s too expensive” or “it’s too cold that day” but once he agreed to watch scary movies with you, you finally figured out why he didn’t want to go.

the two of you decided to watch paranormal movies, all about ghosts and hauntings. throughout the movie, you notice wonbin kept scooting closer and closer to you until his head was hiding behind your shoulder. “no way bbin, are you scared?” “no, i’m just cold.” but whenever ominous music played, his grip on your arm would tighten and he’d hold his breath, just barely peeking over your shoulder. once the movie grew silent, you smirked before letting out a low growl, scaring the jumpy cat. “ah don’t do that, baby!!” you laughed before pulling him down to cuddle against your chest, ruffling his hair and apologizing through giggles. during the climax, wonbin was tightly squeezing your waist and hiding with the blanket pressed tightly against his face. you sneakily pulled out your phone and recorded your boyfriend's cute demeanor, all tensed up on top of you with his big, shaky eyes hesitantly glued to the screen. once the jumpscare popped up, he dropped the ineffective nonchalant act and screamed, springing backward to hug you by the shoulders, hiding his head into your neck. you laughed and held him against your body, kissing his temple to calm him down. “ah, this must be why you didn't wanna go to the haunted house, hm?” “shut up!”

the movie ended at 11pm and you had to go back home. you put your jacket on and grabbed your keys, but wonbin stood in front of the door and stared at you with that pitiful sullen glint in his eyes. “can you sleep over tonight? i’m… gonna be cold again later.” you laughed and tossed your keys back onto the counter running to hug your frightened baby. you cupped his cheeks in your hands and planted hundreds of kisses all over his flustered cheeks. “i won't make fun of you if you're scared, baby. should we cuddle?” wonbin’s fear melted away and he nodded, holding your hand and running off to his room. the two of you cuddled while staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. “we shouldn't have watched that… did you know you could manifest hauntings by watching scary stuff?” “the ghosts can't kill you, baby. shush, just sleep.”

seunghan on a pokemon hunt!

as silly as it sounds, the two of you decided instead of passing out candy or going to costume parties, you would go on a pokémon hunt late at night. seunghan proposed a challenge of whoever could catch the most pokémon would pay for dinner that night. you and your competitive poké-fiend boyfriend put on your coziest jackets and ran outside.

you stayed on facetime with hani while running opposite ways to catch some pokémon. you were doing pretty good, catching a few ratatas and even a diglett. but after 10 minutes of hunting, you noticed seunghan was frantically looking around and commenting on his surroundings. "oh wow it's dark... i should try to stay around the other people here. there wouldn't be ghosts, right? ghosts aren't a thing, haha..." you couldn't hold back your laughter as you realized seunghan was more afraid of the ghosts catching him than having to pay for dinner. "what are you laughing at..?" "are you scared, love?" "of course not! i'm just in a weird environment!" you closed out of the pokémon go app and watched your boyfriend's flustered expression on the screen. "hold on, i'll come find you." "no! you're gonna scare off my pokémon!" "I'LL SAVE YOU, MY PRINCESS!"

long story short, you got to enjoy your fried chicken without a single penny being taken from you (winner winner chicken dinner!). as you ran over to seunghan, he whined, "i give up, it's too dark. can we go inside yet?" once he saw you running towards him, his eyes lit up and he ran to cling to your side. "come on, love, let's go hide from the ghosts." the two of you held hands and ran back home where seunghan ordered a fried chicken delivery. you and the sulky boy ate together while watching shin chan, you occasionally pausing to tease your silly boyfriend for being scared of ghosts. "do you mind taking out the trash after this? hopefully there aren't any ghosts out there~" "STOP ANGEL I'M SO SERIOUS RN"

sohee in a haunted corn maze!

the two of you were browsing the store for cool halloween costumes when you saw a flier for a haunted corn maze at the nearby farm. “we should do it!” sohee cheered, taking a picture of the flier. you tilted your head and asked, “are you sure? you won’t be scared?” sohee scoffs and shakes his head, “of course not! i’m sohee!” you scoff at the silly guy who's grinning and flexing his tiny muscles.

contrary to your initial belief, sohee wasn't afraid. you were. the two of you arrived at the farm and you couldn't help but feel uneasy. you keep subconsciously squeezing sohee's arm and pressing yourself against him. your heart was beginning to palpitate meanwhile sohee was laughing and gasping, "wow... the props seem to be good quality!" your clueless boyfriend was too busy admiring the fake knives on the hay barrels instead of the terrifying killer clown standing by the maze entrance. you enter the maze and you’re immediately hit with the eeriness of the space; the tall hedges, the dark path ahead, the fake blood on the ground, the scary backtrack. your stomach began to turn, yet sohee excitedly treaded forward. “let’s go! should we go left or right?” you hummed trying to brainstorm an answer but as you looked both ways, you spotted scary props in both directions. the terrified screams of the other people in the maze didn’t help your sense of impending doom. “maybe… left?” sohee looked down at you and noticed the uncertainty in your voice. he found it cute how you were so concerned about him being afraid yet now you're stuck to his arm, seemingly about to cry. “are you sure? we can still leave if you'd like.” you shook your head and held onto his arm tighter. “no, let's go!” sohee chucked adoringly at your sudden courage and began following your lead.

your fear soon dissipated as the fun of the escape settled in. as you turned left, a bloodied clown emerged from the dense bushes. you immediately tugged sohee towards you, earning an amused laugh from him. but now that it was over, you weren’t as scared. the escape was now on. “i think we should go left.” “nonono there's a killer over there!” “are you scared?” “no let’s go” the two of you worked tirelessly (screaming almost every 4 minutes) and finally saw the glow of the exit lights. sohee’s eyes lit up as he saw the red sign, turning to you and taking your hand in his. “y/n, there it is! come on!” the two of you ran out of the maze with huge smiles. sohee turned to you with the widest gleam on his face, high-fiving your hands and intertwining his fingers with yours. “we did it!” the fear-induced adrenaline all melted away once your hands were in his. you fell into his hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting against him. sohee held you by the waist and nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “were you scared, pretty girl?” you shook your head and huffed, “not at all!” sohee laughed and left a small kiss on your cheek. “you did a good job getting us out of there! let’s do more things like this!”

anton in a haunted house! (oh dear...)

anton had been dreading this day for ages. your boyfriend had always been a scaredy cat, not being too good at hiding his fear especially when watching scary movies with you. “i really can’t do it love, i’m gonna DIE.” “you’re being dramatic, anton.” he’d been trying his best to convince you not to go, but he couldn’t stand the idea of you going alone. he couldn’t keep fighting your little pout and those pleading doe eyes :( so of course, you went!

you were skipping towards the spooky house while anton was pulling you back by the arm, taking baby steps. “ah, wait! i can’t do this!!” with enough consoling, anton finally followed you inside the house. but once the red lights flashed, he ran behind you and planted his hands under your jacket. you laughed hearing anton’s terrified whines so soon, only being in the house for 20 seconds. you rested your hands over his gripping your waist. “i’m gonna start walking, okay?” “no!” the two of you still haven’t made it three steps into the house without him sticking to you, hiding his head in the side of your neck. once you began progressing, you were shocked at how high quality the set was; fake dead bodies, blood splattered all over the walls, eerie smoke emanating from the doorways. everything you found fascinating was only driving anton even closer to you, hiding against you and holding you with a trembling grip. you wanted to immerse yourself in the horror of the scene, but you couldn’t feel any sense of fear with your dumb boyfriend whining against your neck. “baby, hiding won’t help.” “no, i’m not looking! hurry, i wanna get out!” you laughed and held onto his hands tighter, treading through the scary rooms. with every slight noise, anton would flinch against your shoulder, his grip on your shirt growing tighter. “ah, move faster love!” “i’m trying!”

the entire time, anton was pathetically shrieking with his head buried into your neck, not allowing himself to see any of the scary scenes. he was so focused on keeping his eyes shut that he didn't realize you'd successfully exited the house. "open your eyes." "no!" "baby trust me, open your eyes." toni hesitantly lifted his head only to be met with the sight of trees and soft moonlight. "oh... it's done." you laughed and turned to face him, cupping his face in your hands and lifting the corners of his lips into a smile. "you made it out alive! see? it wasn't bad!" "you don't know what i went through..." though he'd finally escaped like he'd been praying for, he was still sulking during the entire trip back home. you couldn't hold back your laughs, finding his pouty lips so adorable. "i'm sorry my love, i won't make you go to another one again. do you wanna cuddle?" "whatever, sure." you sighed at his sassy remark and turned him to face you, pressing your lips against his. that moody look on his face was soon replaced with his flustered, blushing cheeks and a content smile creeping onto his lips.

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starlovesganyu · 2 months ago

Note

Love your writing style, its so comfy to read (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Can I humbly request [characters] perfect date for whoever you want to do.

From: 🦎

their perfect date!

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

what their perfect date is!

thanks for the ask!

various characters x gn!reader

characters: keqing, hu tao, clorinde, jean, ei, yae miko, furina, bronya, black swan, feixiao, march 7th, qingque, silver wolf

warnings: none

not proofread

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

keqing -`✮´-

• window shopping is her favorite way to spend time with you!

• she wouldn't be able to contain her excitement as you walk through the streets of liyue together, looking at all the different goods displayed in shop windows

• enjoys explaining the significance behind many of the artifacts, or how different types of clothing are manufactured

• but, if gently intertwine your fingers with hers, she'll shut up real quick

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hu tao -`✮´-

• would definitely enjoy bringing you to a haunted house of some sort

• obviously she wouldn't get scared, but enjoys watching you jump at every little movement and sound

• would also scare you herself, then giggle at your reaction

• should you hide behind or grab hold of her out of fear or for protection, her heart will flutter a little <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

clorinde -`✮´-

• for her, playing through a tabletop troupe script with you would be her ideal date

• she loves to immerse herself in the story and characters, and whenever she roleplays with you, she finds it much more enjoyable!

• she'll secretly pick a script that has her saving you from monsters, or even one that ends with the two of you kissing (//ω//)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

jean -`✮´-

• a midday picnic away from the hustle and bustle of mondstat and the knights is perfect!

• you would bring your favorite dishes, she would bring hers, and you two would spend time sharing food and stories

• spending time away from her responsibilities and expectations also helps her relax and decompress

• her heart will melt if you lean on her shoulder or lay your head down in her lap

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ei -`✮´-

• in her mind, simply walking around inazuma with you is perfect

• having been stuck in the plane of euthymia for so long, many of the sights and goods are still novel to her, and she enjoys listening to you explain all the new things she’s seeing and experiencing

• but, you should be prepared to stop at every shop or stand that sells sweets

• wouldn’t try and feed her any sweets though, she’s still the archon and has an image to uphold

she’ll gladly do it in private

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

yae miko -`✮´-

• she would prefer to start the night off with a nice dinner

• wouldn't have to be anything extremely fancy, the only requirement being the establishment must serve fried tofu

• after the meal, simply lazing around at home with you would be a perfect way to end the night

• she would enjoy reading light novels with you in her lap, but her hands would be constantly roaming around your body, making it very difficult for you to focus on your book

"dear, is the novel not to your liking? you've been on the same page for ten minutes now..."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

furina -`✮´-

• would love to go watch some sort of stage play or musical with you

• she wouldn't care what genre the performance actually is, she just wants to spend time with you!

• unless it's horror-if it is, she'll have a death grip on your hand the entire way through

• the following days, or even weeks, she's not entering any dark rooms by herself, has you check in the closet and under the bed before sleep, summons all the salon members to keep watch, and clings to you like her life depends on it while she's trying to sleep

• if it's not horror, she would be constantly glancing over at you to "gauge your reactions at different scenes" (you're just too beautiful, and she couldn't resist the urge to look at you)

• would also enjoy acting out some of her favorite scenes to you in private!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

bronya -`✮´-

• similar to jean, anything that lets her take a break from her responsibilities and expectations would already be perfect

• that being said, she would really enjoy going clothes shopping with you!

• besides taking her mind off work, it's allows her to admire you under the pretense of making sure the clothes fit on you

• she'd blush every time you tell her she looks good in something

• would suck at helping you decide what to pick because you just look good in everything!

• wants to hold your hand, but sadly she's got an image to uphold-don't worry though, she'll make up for it by giving you a quick kiss in a changing room!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

black swan -`✮´-

• 100% a romantic candlelit dinner type of woman

• loves to listen to you talk about your most recent or favorite memories!

• she'd also want to show you some of her favorite memories of the two of you, or even maybe some of her favorites from her own life

• would definitely make you relive some of your embarrassing moments, for example, when she caught you red-handed trying on her clothes and posing in front of a mirror

• afterwards, taking a calm night stroll hand in hand would be a perfect way to close the night

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

feixiao -`✮´-

• would love to have you accompany her for a morning run and workout!

• when she runs, it usually allows her clear her mind and think over important issues with a fresh mind, but since you're present she can only think about you

• don't worry! if you get tired or don't want to run, she'd be more than happy to just take a morning stroll!

she'd also be willing to carry you

• would love if you'd join her lifting weights, but wouldn't ever make you do anything you don't want to do

• very obvious that she's trying harder than ever now that you're watching to try and impress you <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

march 7th -`✮´-

• shopping.

• spending a whole day going store to store looking for cute things with you would be a dream come true

• she'd have you try on many different outfits, and may even have you pose for her camera!

• would also suck at helping you choose an outfit, you just look too cute in everything!

• by the end of the day, her camera roll is filled with pictures of you and her, and she'll immortalize her favorites on her wall

• if you were to buy her a stuffed animal of any kind, she'd treasure it, naming it ruler over all her other stuffed animals, and would also hold it when she's missing you </3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

qingque -`✮´-

• she'd love to just slack off and play celestial jade with you!

• she wouldn't care if you brought along your friends, as long as they were fine losing to her

• but, if was were to be down to you and her, she'd discreetly make a bad play to let you win because your smile never fails to make her heart skip a beat!

• grabbing takeout and walking around aurum alley would be a cherry on top for her, but you should be prepared to have a lot of your food stolen by her

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

silver wolf -`✮´-

• would want to just laze around and play video games with you

• she's very skilled at basically every game, so she could help you beat bosses you were struggling on or boost you a couple matches in competitive

• could also spawn you in credits or other valuable in game resources if you wanted-just don't ask how

• if you decide you want to play against her, she'll promptly sit herself down in your lap just to distract you (not like she needs the advantage, she just likes to watch you slowly get flustered)

• also uses you as like a good luck charm for her gacha game pulls

a/n: thanks for reading!

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kentopedia · 1 month ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა crossroad blues — sebastian

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. at the crossroads, you make a deal with the devil. instead of leaving you alone for the next ten years, it sticks around.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. dark content, mdni !!, f!reader, murder, demons, somnophilia, occult, monsterfucking ig, noncon/dubcon, unprotected sex, piv, pet names, degradation, wc: 2.1k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm self aware, this is not that good but i wanted to post something for kinktober so. this will function as that. not really proofread + potentially ooc i have not read black butler in a while so pls don't be a hater <3

part of my halloween series !

ever since you were a child, you’d heard tales of devils at the crossroads.

stories that had been passed through the generations, stories of deals that could be made with a crossroads devil, for those crazy enough to take the chance. for the small price of an eternity in hell, your soul could be exchanged for whatever you desired.

that price was nothing, really, for those who were desperate enough. and you were desperate enough.

you sat, humming to yourself in the dirt, your belongings two feet below the ground, along with the rest of the items necessary for the ritual. it had not been cheap or easy to find the incantation that would summon a demon, but for all the things you lacked, money had never been one of them.

now, though, as you waited, your skirts stained dark shades of brown from the mud, you began to wonder if you’d been swindled.

shivering, you climbed to your feet, your boots even dustier than before. the sun had long since set, and it was frigid, much colder out in the middle of the countryside than it was in the city.

nothing was coming — it was clear to you now. perhaps even your desperation wasn’t enough for the devil to accept another soul to his overpopulated hell.

you frowned and turned to make your way back to your haunted house, when you noticed a shadowy figure flickering in the corner of your vision. you blinked, suddenly swept up in a mixture of uncertainty.

“who’s there?” you asked, stupidly, knowing that either way, death had come for you.

the shadow emerged, the smiling figure of someone who looked much more a man than a devil, had it not been the shade of his irises, the cruel smile that curled on his lips. his dark hair swept across his forehead, gracefully framing his features.

“you called for me,” he said simply, taking the short steps towards you.

you wrinkled your eyebrows together, not expecting the demon to be clad in such formal wear, his coattails flaring out behind him as he bowed.

“you are the one i am to make a deal with?” you asked, sounding not at all confident.

he laughed, a dark sound. “i am. does that surprise you?”

“i expected something… different,” you said, batting your eyes away. it was hard to look at him. you felt hot, just from the intensity of his irises. he was beautiful, painfully so otherworldly you weren't sure if human was the correct way to describe his appearance.

but wasn’t that what was always said about demons?

“i want you to kill my husband,” you said simply, sparing no room for lifeless conversation.

the demon made a face, but it was not of alarm, more so out of boredom. “oh. is that all? such mundane tasks you humans send me on. it's always dramatics you must resort to.”

“i’ll be damned to hell, whether i kill him myself or not." you shrugged, the judgement annoying you, coming from a demon. “i’d just rather not get my hands dirty. wouldn't want to end up in prison.”

at that, his interest was piqued again, like you’d illuminated another part of the human existence he had not seen before. “you would trade eternal suffering for a few kind years on earth?”

“i’m already suffering,” you said flatly, not allowing emotion to overtake you. “i want you to kill my husband, and i don’t want to be questioned for it. heart failure would do nicely, i think.”

the demon, with his startling beautiful eyes, so red and alluring, considered. “i don’t believe you are in any position to make requests of that nature.”

you frowned, and took a step back. “well, this is a contract, is it not? i’m allowed to make stipulations, as far as i’m aware.”

he blinked, then laughed, before studying you like you were a mouse he was dangling by the tail. “hmm.” the demon considered your words. “there is an extra price to pay, for those who want to make such specifications.”

he leaned forward, his vast form towering over you, even in a human vessel. still you ignored his attempt at intimidation and swallowed, sticking your chin out to glare up at him. “i’m willing to pay it,” you said, sniffing.

“alright, then,” he grinned, wiping his fingers across your lips. “we have a deal.”

the gravity of his words didn’t strike you in that moment, the exchange purely business, not at all the matters of life and death. you nodded, and stuck out your hand to shake his — that’s how deals were made, weren't they? but the demon surprised you by grabbing your hand, pulling you towards him and slamming your lips against his own.

a choked sound came out of you as your eyes went wide, and for a moment, you panicked. but the feeling of his mouth was so soft, the taste so heavenly for a creature of hell, that you found yourself relaxing into it, feeling blissful in the grasp of his cold hands.

the kiss was over before it even began, and he pulled off your mouth with a pop, leaving you breathless, chasing after him.

“i’ll collect the first of my payments at a later date,” he said, mouth spreading to reveal his sharp teeth. “expect me again soon.”

two days had passed since you made the deal, and you continued your normal routine, abiding by the sharp stipulations set by your cruel husband, like nothing had really changed at all.

and maybe it hadn’t. maybe everything the demon had said was a lie.

for some reason, despite his promise of collecting payment later, you’d believed the deal would come to fruition immediately. that you’d go home and your husband would be cast away from this earth, a nuisance you no longer had to worry about.

that hadn’t been the case though — he still slept beside you in your marital bed, a lump of apathy, night after night.

tonight, though, promised something different. you were used to your husband doing with you as he pleased, but it felt off, this time. he was far too tender with you, his cock sliding in and out of you, as if trying to ease you gently out of sleep.

you let out a breath, still stuck somewhere in between a dream. you weren’t sure what time it was, or when you had started to stir, but there was a wetness between your legs that hadn’t been there when you’d fallen asleep, and a cold hand on your bare hip.

your night gown had been hiked up to your stomach, the folds of cotton rubbing against your naval. a hand crept around your hips, sinking down between your legs, where you were already growing wetter.

the touch was frigid as it came in contact with your already aching clit, matching the pulse of the length that slid in and out of you. you let out a whine, jolting your hips into the touch, before your eyes flew open, and you were no longer asleep. realization dawned upon you.

“that’s it, little one,” a soft purr melted into your ears, cold fingers tracing achingly slow circles into your clit. “i was wondering how long it would take you to wake up.”

you were caught in between alarm and bliss, the room still hauntingly dark. it took a moment for your eyes to adjust, and you fell into the body that was pressed up behind you, lean and long.

your legs had been maneuvered differently from when you’d first slept, one lifted upwards to give the man — thing — behind you a better position, filling you deeply.

“s-sebastian—” you groan, not quite a question, as you clenched around his cock, thick and long. even though you’d never agreed to this, well… it was better than anything your husband had ever given you.

the husband that was staring at you, wide-eyed, petrified to death in the bed next to you.

the finality of his life almost killed your steadily growing orgasm, his round dead eyes staring, unblinking, back at you. but a deep thrust inside of you reminded you that it was your husband, not the demon, that had been the root of all your miseries.

you moaned, not bothering to hide the satisfaction you felt.

“you’re so much wetter than i imagined,” sebastian said, cooing in your ear, something between mockery and praise. you could hear the smirk on his face, even if you couldn’t see it. “such a pretty little thing. perhaps i’ll keep you all to myself for the next few years. my little human pet.”

you grabbed at his arm, nails digging into the cold flesh, as sebastian continued rubbing circles in your aching pussy.

the demon laughed, humming thoughtfully, almost gleeful. “i think that’s a fair trade, don’t you? more than fair.” his long fingers brushed your nipple, and you almost came on the spot.

it was too much. too fast. you weren’t even sure how long he’d been fucking you, while you were still asleep. enough to have you near an orgasm.

“maybe i’ll even let you live your whole life, if you promise to be my good little pet until the day you die.”

you moaned again, louder this time, and found yourself enthusiastically agreeing. “y-yes,” you said pathetically, not bothering to question your habit of making deals with devils. “whatever you want.” you could feel your eyes rolling back into your head, your mind going numb from the feeling.

he laughed at you, mockingly, and squeezed you harder, painfully, this time. but it didn’t erase the pleasure that dug deep into you, and you arched into him, on the edge of collapsing.

“so weak,” he hummed, his breath ghosting across your ear. it was deep, hauntingly so, like a song rising up from hell itself. “humans always lose themselves so easily to the pleasures of the flesh. i wonder how long it would take me to break you.”

“please,” you said, your voice small as you whined, feeling so small in his grasp, his presence overpowering.

perhaps he had nestled himself deeply into your mind, breaking through the walls that kept temptation out. but giving yourself to a demon felt better than it ever had with your husband.

“please?” he mocked darkly. “i’ll except better than that.”

“please, sebastian,” you said, repeating the word over and over again, giving into your desire, exactly as he’d anticipated. ‘i’ll do whatever you want. forever. please, just let me come.”

“such a good little pet.” you could feel his smile curling around your ear, his pace overwhelming. a string of praises laced with contempt left his lips, but they were lost to you, your senses lost to everything but the feeling of him inside you.

you gave into your pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your throat as you clench around him, breathing heavily. sebastian came inside, his cold chest pressed tightly against your back. not a sound left him; he was so quiet it was almost as if he wasn’t there at all.

you didn’t speak, and laid still, panting on the bed, trying to collect yourself.

he slid out of you, the only indication that there was another presence there. an ache in your muscles had already begun; you’d have that, at least, to remind yourself that it was real. but slowly, the demon’s touch became less tangible, as if he were fading away into the night.

“when will you be back?” you said, quiet, too afraid to turn and face him. you’d seen him as a human, but you weren’t sure what you’d do if you turned, and that was not the form he had taken. it scared you, as much as it thrilled you.

“when i please,” was all he gave you. “my side of the deal is complete.

“will it be like this every time?” you swallowed, not sure if you wanted him inside of you while you were sleeping, night after night. but you weren’t sure if you wanted him facing you, staring at you with those dark eyes of his as he sank into you. “sebastian?” you said quietly, shifting in the bed to face him.

but there was nothing there, the space empty, and no life was in that room but you.

you swallowed, shut your eyes, and went to sleep.

thank you for reading ❤︎ this one was inspired by episode 2x08 of supernatural, with the same title <3

#dividers by cafekitsune #black butler x reader #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji smut #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian michaelis x reader smut #sebastian michaelis #anime smut #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis imagine #black butler imagines #xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆#after hours ☽ ⋆ ˚｡⋆#kinktober #ktober

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dollishbabess · 2 months ago

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ROMANCE-TOBER - ROMTOBER 24! - dollish

(Discontinued)

A/n: This October I want to highlight my first October as a writer! Instead of kinktober I’m doing romtober which is just romance October! Each week is based off a batboy and event that is kinda halloweenish, if you’re gonna do this then please credit me! But also stay tuned!! This is fun event for me to host! (Please reblog <3) second divider @cafekitsune

Week 1: Dick Grayson (Oct 1 - Oct 7)

October 1 - Haunted House Date You and Dick visit a haunted house attraction, but he's more scared than you are, clinging to you the entire time.

October 2 - Pumpkin Carving Dick insists on a pumpkin carving competition, but things get messy, and it turns into a playful pumpkin fight.

October 3 - Corn Maze You and Dick get lost in a corn maze together, but he uses this as an excuse to steal kisses when no one's looking.

October 4 - Trick-or-Treat He insists on going trick-or-treating, even though you’re both adults. You spend the night in costumes, acting like kids and sharing stolen candy.

October 5 - Autumn Picnic An outdoor picnic surrounded by fall leaves leads to cozy moments, with Dick wrapping his scarf around you to keep you warm. (Gonna be in the mashup)

October 6 - Costume Shopping Dick insists on couples' costumes and drags you around town until you find the perfect matching outfits.

October 7 - Bonfire Night Sitting by a bonfire, Dick shares stories from his past, and you both end up wrapped in a blanket together under the stars.

Week 2: Jason Todd (Oct 8 - Oct 14)

October 8 - Horror Movie Marathon Jason challenges you to a horror movie marathon, but it’s hard to be scared when he's there, keeping you close.

October 9 - Motorcycle Ride A chilly October night ride through Gotham, sharing his jacket and the warmth from his body as he drives.

October 10 - Graveyard Visit Jason takes you to an old, eerie cemetery, but instead of it being scary, he opens up about his feelings and lets you in. (Gonna be in the mashup)

October 11 - Spooky Reading Jason reads you classic Gothic literature in a dimly lit room, his voice low and soothing, making the atmosphere feel more intimate than frightening. (Gonna be in the mashup

October 12 - Apple Picking You and Jason spend a day at an orchard, bickering over who can pick the most apples but ending up playfully stealing kisses in between. (Gonna be in the mashup)

October 13 - Midnight Walk You two wander the empty streets of Gotham in the middle of the night, talking about everything and nothing while holding hands. (Gonna be in the mashup)

October 14 - Pumpkin Spice & Chill Jason pretends to hate pumpkin spice, but you catch him stealing sips of your drink, leading to a cozy night in with pumpkin-flavored treats.

Week 3: Tim Drake (Oct 15 - Oct 21)

October 15 - Library Study Date You and Tim spend the day in a library, but instead of focusing on work, he keeps writing cute little notes to you on sticky pads.

October 16 - Autumn Rain Caught in a rainstorm, you seek shelter with Tim, and he offers you his jacket, smiling softly as he pulls you closer.

October 17 - Stargazing Tim takes you to a rooftop to watch the stars, armed with a telescope and hot cocoa, his quiet affection warming you more than the drink.

October 18 - Bookstore Hideaway While browsing a cozy, spooky-themed bookstore, Tim surprises you with a book you’ve been wanting and reads the first chapter to you.

October 19 - Spooky Café Date Tim takes you to a café with spooky decorations, and as you sip on autumn-themed drinks, you realize he’s been watching you more than anything else.

October 20 - Solving Mysteries Tim ropes you into solving a "haunted" mystery, but it turns out he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.

October 21 - Late-Night Research A night of researching creepy legends with Tim ends up with you both falling asleep together, surrounded by books and laptops.

Week 4: Damian Wayne (Oct 22 - Oct 28)

October 22 - Pumpkin Patch Damian grumbles about the childishness of pumpkin patches, but you catch him smiling as you pose for pictures together.

October 23 - Spooky Baking You and Damian bake Halloween-themed treats together, but he insists on making everything from scratch since he doesn’t want processed shit in his food, and you end up covered in flour.

October 24 - Candlelit Dinner Damian surprises you with a candlelit dinner with fall flavors, the warm glow making the evening feel extra special.

October 25 - Black Cat You catch Damian sneaking a stray black cat into the manor, insisting it’s for you because he knows you love cats (even though it's clear he's attached too).

October 26 - Autumn Market Visiting an autumn festival together, Damian buys you something small but meaningful and pretends it wasn’t a big deal.

October 27 - Hayride He’s reluctant at first, but Damian ends up enjoying the hayride, especially since it gives him an excuse to sit close to you.

October 28 - Ghost Stories Damian challenges you to tell the scariest ghost story, but when you get scared, he instinctively pulls you into his arms to reassure you.

Week 5: different Batboys (Oct 29 - Oct 31)

October 29 - Halloween Decorating with each batboy!

October 30 - Masquerade Ball Bruce hosts a Halloween masquerade and invites readers to and (batboy of your choice)

October 31 - Halloween Night You spend Halloween night on the rooftop of Wayne Manor with your chosen batboy talking away and maybe stealing a kiss

——————-

Nov 1 - XMASS (jkk😭)

See how this isn’t about dicks going up coochies , very mindful very friendly.

If your gonna do this please please give credit or your gonna be exposed, made by @dollishbabess

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haine-kleine · 4 months ago

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i thought the ending couldn't be more disappointing and then this japanese tweet proved me wrong

because all of this is true. Ochako and Izuku will never forget Toga and Tenko and half of their epilogue was about this, however messily done. Ochako dedicated herself to creating better conditions for people like Toga, because she saw how badly Toga was suffering and despite failing to save her and give her a brighter future, she committed to building that future on her own, selflessly gifting it to others. Izuku had failed to save Tenko despite wanting to, and this weights on his conscience eight years later, and will continue to haunt him in the form of Shigaraki's ghost watching him, not letting him forget himself in the happy ending of joining his hero classmates and achieving his dream.

it's still messy and unfaithful as fuck, but at least these two endings still show that the consequences were there. the unfair deaths of the villains weren't simply swept under the rug and forgotten after a few sad talks about them.

and the thing these two cases share in common? Ochako and Izuku really didn't owe it to Toga and Shigaraki to save them. they didn't. they were hero kids thrown in the middle of the war these very villains waged on them. they both were younger than their respective villains, they both were hurt by these villains, they had no prior history with them, and having shared a few conversations was enough to make them emphasize with and humanize the villains. nothing that happened to Himiko and Tenko was inflicted on them by Ochako and Izuku, and yet just seeing that, hearing about that was enough to ignite sympathy in their hearts. because, you know, they are heroes. they are there to save people from suffering. and even when those people are the ones actively hurting them and their friends, they are mature enough to set that aside and attempt to save their human lives.

enter the star of the show, the only character in this story who despite having committed truly villainous acts, is allowed to go consequences free without a single care in the world. Enji. the person who had single-handedly fucked Touya up to the point his mental state was too messed up even for AFO to deal with. he had given life to this baby, and he was constantly made aware of how badly his attitude is affecting this child by Rei. and he couldn't be bothered to do anything for him, not even to look at him. the fire on Sekoto was 100% Enji's fault, not only because he couldn't be bothered to come visit his son on his day off when Touya had asked him to, but also because the number two hero on his day off was too slow to come to the forest near his house to save Touya from the fire or from All for One. this makes Touya being kept under AFO's care for the following 3 years Enji's responsibility, as he was the only one who could have saved Touya from AFO. even after Touya wakes up from his coma and immediately runs to his house as fast as he can, it's Enji's behaviour alone that makes him decide against making his presence known to the family for the following 7 years. this excuse of a father can't even mourn the death of a son he explicitly blames himself for in such way that won't make his entire existence feel meaningless to him.

and after Touya reveals himself to Enji personally as Dabi? he proves that he still hasn't changed at all and utterly fails to do anything about the situation while Shouto has to repeatedly remind him of it. not only was he procrastinating, the narrative was coddling him the entire time, with the support of other heroes and sidekicks, who despite being shown the truth about Enji, choose to ignore it. even the family he has been abusing for years, the family who was mourning Touya together, joins their efforts to support Enji.

Touya's only desires were to be seen and to be heard. both went unanswered, as after showing the world the unfiltered truth of the misery his father had caused to him, the world covered their earths and turned away. after showing himself to his family, they keep looking at Enji, not at him.

even at the very end, the end of the family's hell is more about Enji than about any other character. he is the only one allowed to talk about his feelings in depth, while the rest of them are reduced to barebone imitations of their previously established characters used as props for supporting Enji's character resolution (with the exception of Touya, who is physically unable to speak for longer than 5 minutes a day anymore. wow). even Natsuo cutting off Enji is less about the latter being a horrible excuse of a father and more about Enji's great stoicism accepting everything the family throws at him with a heroic face. Rei's character no longer makes sense because exactly a month ago her mental state and the trauma inflicted on her by this very man didn't allow her to face him at all. and now she is suddenly okay with becoming his caretaker? why is she taking her responsibility for Touya and not talking about Enji's responsibility at all? this was a man who had abused her so badly she had a psychotic episode. you don't just shrug off things like this. you don't sit in a psychiatric ward for ten years after that, waiting to be let out and jump on the first chance of making yourself useful for your abuser. you don't set aside the relationships with the children he had hurt and he had made you hurt to devote yourself fully to your damn abuser. someone take this poor woman out of this Stockholm syndrome relationship.

at this point Touya not being allowed to die is the worst offence, because the survival wasn't granted to him to heal. it was given to him for the singular purpose of making Endeavor look slightly less bad. Enji never even talks about failing to save Touya (and neither is Shouto allowed to). if you wanted to save him, then him being stuck immobile and isolated from the world with only months left to live is not 'the time Shouto gave us with him' it's a failure. he's not your damn pet, why is the narrative making him into one?

Touya had wanted to die. Shouto points this out, Touya himself talks about it. Enji was the one who didn't want him to die. he also didn't want to die himself. somehow, his desire is the only one that is fulfilled, while even Shouto's dream of eating soba with his older brother goes ignored.

and afterwards? Enji happily moves on from this with the new family he had found for himself, while Touya's childhood desire of his family looking at him is fulfilled in the most grotesque way possible. and the family's dream of having a home away from Endeavor? not a chance lmao

#man i can't deal with it anymore #NEED a fix-it #where Touya never talks to his family ever again #if this is the reunion Hori decided to give js #bnha #bnha spoilers #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki tei #todoroki shouto #anti endeavor #bnha critical #salt #you would think enji was based on hori's higher up with the way the narrative is giving him private lap dances

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anim-ttrpgs · 3 months ago

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What to Play Next with Eureka.

So, now that the pay-what-you-want/free Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy beta has over 400 downloads at the time of writing this (wow!) and has been up for about 3 weeks, I’m sure at least some people have already played Horror Harry’s Haunted House, the free tutorial adventure module we included with the beta download, and are excited to play more!

To that end, I’ve quickly thrown together a non-comprehensive list of adventure modules to run using Eureka, and where you can find them.

Adventure modules, if you’ve never used them, are a lifesaver for GMs. (And also they’re a different thing from those railroady “adventure paths” and crappy 5e adventures that you might be familiar with.)

Official Eureka Adventures

You can find official Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy adventure modules on our Patreon page. Supporting us is what makes Eureka, and our ongoing promotion of many other TTRPG creators, possible.

Horror Harry’s Haunted House

This is an official Eureka adventure module that comes free with the beta linked above. It is a super low-stakes “tutorial” adventure that sees the PCs solving a “murder” in an interactive escape room. The point of this scenario is to be a short and fun way for players to learn the mechanics of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy without risk of their characters dying.

FORIVA: The Angel Game

This is an official Eureka adventure module by A.N.I.M. currently available only to patreon subscribers. Set in the year 1999, this adventure involves the PCs investigating a mysterious threat targeting teenagers.

The Eye of Neptune

This is an official Eureka adventure module by A.N.I.M. currently available only to patreon subscribers. Set on a skeleton-crewed oil rig in the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, this adventure puts the PCs in a tense situation as members of the crew start to disappear one by one...

Free Call of Cthulhu Adventures

Since we have not had the time (yet) to build up a robust library of official Eureka adventure modules, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy has been playtested the most by using Call of Cthulhu adventure modules, and it is designed to work well with them. In fact, in many cases it actually plays them better and smoother than Call of Cthulhu itself!

Chapter 7 of the Eureka rulebook covers how to convert an adventure module from another game for use with Eureka, and its super easy! The only thing that will need to be adjusted will be the HP values of monsters and we have a formulae for that.

What's In The Cellar, a super short adventure where the PCs will investigate a mysterious cellar.

Scritch Scratch, there's rats.

The Derelict, set in the modern-day in the icy waters of the North Atlantic, the thought of a substantial salvage reward drives the investigators to attempt to rescue the a stranded ship, but in doing so they attract the attention of a strange and deadly monster.

The Lightless Beacon, the ivestigators are unfortunate passengers on a ship heading for Rockport, Massachusetts, on Monday, April 12th, 1926, the night of the new moon. Due to a malfunction at the lighthouse on Beacon Island, their ship founders on nearby rocks, forcing the investigators to take to a small lifeboat and head to Beacon Island for refuge in the growing storm.

Dead Boarder, a murder investigation, which centers on the discovery of a body in a locked room.

Paid Call of Cthulhu Adventure Modules

Even though they aren’t exactly “indie,” just about any non-WotC company that makes TTRPGs is an ally against the monopoly crushing the entire hobby and art form of TTRPGs, so we would love it if you could support them as well as supporting us. Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy wouldn’t exist without Call of Cthulhu, and especially not without Call of Cthulhu adventure modules! In fact they’re like one of the only “big” names out there that still regularly puts out adventure modules, which seem to be a lost artform seemingly everywhere else despite once being being absolutely synonymous with GMing. They’ve been making new official Call of Cthulhu adventure modules consistently for like forty years, and buying and playing these will encourage them to keep doing that.

New Tales of the Miskatonic Valley (pack of adventures)

The Reeling Midnight, by Tom Lynch. introduces Investigators to Arkham's truly decadent party scene. (I've played this one, pretty good.)

Wasted Youth, by Christopher Smith Adair, explores the roots of juvenile delinquency, culminating in a wild chase through the wilderness.

Spirit of Industry,by Oscar Rios, takes Investigators to the village of Dunwich, where they explore old murders and an ancient mystery.

Proof of Life,by Keith Herber, is a tale of extortion and madness in the Lovecraft Country town of Foxfield.

Malice Everlasting,by Oscar Rios, expores Kingsport and old grudges.

The Night War,by Kevin Ross, sees the author of Kingsport, City in the Mists, revisit his creation when a veteran of the Great War is suddenly haunted by deadly nightmares.

A Mother's Love, by Seth Skorkowsky, author of the Valducan series, takes us to the hidden town Innsmouth, with all its squalor, dangers, and dark corruption in a brand new scenario for New Tales of the Miskatonic Valley, 2nd Edition. (I've played this one, pretty good.)

The Things We Leave Behind (pack of adventures)

Ladybug, Ladybug, Fly Away Home, by Jeff Moeller. The investigators search for an abducted child in suburban Cleveland, Ohio, where time becomes a serious concern.

Forget Me Not, by Brian M. Sammons. An accident in a TV truck in rural Michigan sees the investigators awake in a ditch with no recollection of how they got there.

Roots, by Simon Brake. Inquiries into a missing teen will teach the investigators that some mid-west communities prefer to be left alone.

Hell in Texas, by Scott Dorward. After a suicide at a church's east Texas Halloween haunted house, strange events threaten the lives and sanity of all those in the vicinity, including the investigators.

The Night Season, by Jeff Moeller, shows that fandom in Anchorage, Alaska, can go too far when reality begins to shift.

Occam's Razor (pack of adventures)

A Whole Pack of Trouble - a group of film students have gone missing while shooting a found-footage style movie over college break.

Eye of the Beholder - five days ago, a young woman disappeared while working on an art project.

Frozen Footsteps - A Wendigo-obsessed professor heads off to Michigan's Upper Peninsula for some rare (for him) fieldwork and discovers far more than he bargained for.

Dark and Deep - A snuff film is making the rounds in which a woman is mauled to death by a Deep One. Are the film's establishing shots enough to track down the lighthouse was filmed at and get to the bottom of things?

Visions from Beyond - A late-night voicemail left by a friend/relative in need of immediate help followed by them not answering their phone

The Watchers - the investigators are contacted by a single woman who lives alone and is being watched by unknown people.

A Cleansing Flame - Bodies are being discovered, burned to death, with no known fire starter/accelerant present.

Does Love Forgive? (pack of single-PC adventures)

Love You To Death, Chicago: February 15th, 1929. It’s a cold winter’s day when the investigator’s good friend Hattie May appears in their office at the detective agency. Her beloved pet dog, Highball, is scheduled to be destroyed later today and she needs the investigator’s help getting him back from the Chicago Police Department. It doesn’t sound like too difficult a task, does it?

Mask of Desire, New York: September, 1932. The investigator, together with their two close friends Anna Konrad and Lucas Reston, has been invited to a party at wealthy—and notorious—socialite Madame de Tisson’s swanky apartment on the Upper West Side. Anna is somewhat distracted by her audition tomorrow for Nancy Turner, the famous jazz orchestra conductor. What is the link between the audition and a mysterious parcel that arrives the next day? And, why do so many people seem to be interested in the contents of the parcel?

Night Mother's Moon (stand-alone adventure), investigators are New York City’s street homeless who come together to solve the mystery of something that is stalking and killing the members of their community. (Playing this one with Eureka right now actually.)

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86espresso · 8 days ago

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he’s watching | jh86

warnings ; blood, knife play, fear play, mentions of murder, oral (f), voyerism but its a ghost that isn’t there?, abandoned house, ghostface/hannibal mask?, bf!jack x afab!reader,”, hide and seek :), and other freakish shit I had no idea I was lowkey attracted to. not proofread.

wc; 2.2k

a/n ; I started this during october and lost the motivation so have this in late november! I have no explanation, it is exactly what it looks like. if this is something you’re not into pleasee don’t read, this is twisted and nasty bc that’s how I function <3 once again, read at your own risk. with that, insane!jack can terrorize me anyyydayyy.

If it was anyone else stalking you down the halls of an abandoned house, with a legitimate knife and a scary mask, you would’ve ran out of the place like your ass was on fire.

However, it was only Jack. Your boyfriend.

You could tell something different in his low chuckles when he came closer to wherever you were hiding, the playful game of cat and mouse you had started turning into something more menacing in the dark rooms and hallways of the house.

The two of you were lovesick for all horror stories and urban legends, and you knew of the story of the haunted house at the end of the street, so you decided to venture there together to get away from the parties. Still clad in your Halloween costumes.

It was a slutty Halloween party, so you wore a tight fitting black top that showed more than it should and a black mini skirt. You had fake blood all over your cleavage, neck, and one single dried drop down the side of your temple. You matched with Jack’s muscle tee and black sweats, his obscured version of a ghostface-hannibal mask, and knife.

And now, Jack was doing everything in his power to ensure that your heart stayed thumping hard against your ribcage, your palms were sweaty, that you were genuinely scared before you use the code word for stopping any terrifying prank either of you were pulling on each other. You’ve never really said it before because neither of you were that easy to scare, and you didn’t take it that far.

For the record, Jack did have you feeling all of those things, not because you were scared, but because you were thrilled. Though, you’d have to admit, it was the thought of being so terrified that you liked it that really had your chest heaving with anticipation.

You wanted to know what the man in the mask could do. How he would use his knife.

“Jack?” You called out meekly, stepping carefully into the master bedroom, that had nothing but moonlight illuminating it. Your voice may be weak, but you were feeling the opposite inside, your heart burning with the desire to feel that knife against your throat at least once, to see nothing but Jack’s hooded eyes as he pressed hard enough to draw blood but not enough to really hurt you.

You knew he was near this area because you heard him here; any logical person would have turned right back but you ran towards the bullets.

You were about five steps into the bedroom when it slammed shut right behind you.

Again, any normal and sane person would’ve screamed, whipped around, ran—but you stayed still, breathing hard, a slow smirk spreading on your face. You didn’t turn around, you didn’t have to.

His shadow joined yours, standing right behind you and his heat radiated onto you, giving you much needed warmth to your bare shoulders and legs.

“Found you, doll.” He drawled, moving closer. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I wasn’t hiding.” You say as his chest lightly touches your shoulders, his hand barely ghosting over your waist before he grips it properly.

His palm is wet.

“Jack—”

“Blood.”

You gulp. “Whose?”

“Mine.”

You head starts spinning, as if he drew your blood. You feel a spark of concern, leaning back into him, trying to wordlessly communicate it.

“S’all good, doll.” He softens his voice slightly, leaning into you.

You stiffen up again, standing straight, falling back into ‘character’ instantly.

This time, his other arm snakes around your waist, you see the glint of the knife before it lays flat against your stomach. It’s like that for a moment before Jack abruptly turns you around.

“All that chasing—you liked that, hm?”

His bloody hand stays on your waist while the other traces the blunt edge of the knife over your breasts. The mask is pretty scary, but his raspy voice and cold blue eyes work more for you. The tip of the knife just barely touches the underside of your chin; if you nod, it would pierce your skin. The thought sent a rush of heat throughout your body, and you nod carefully, the blade pinching your chin. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but Jack understood that’s what you wanted, you could see the smile reaching his eyes as he pushes the knife up just a bit. A wave of heat mixed with pain rushes over you as you feel the smallest trickle of blood run down your neck and mix with the fake blood on your tits.

Jack’s chest shakes with a small laugh. You’re sure you could drown in your arousal.

“Fuck, y’liked that too? What am I going to do with you?”

Before you could answer, he removed the knife and lifted his mask, putting the tip of it on his tongue and licking it clean. You let out a whimper at the action, unable to resist the burning desire in your lower stomach.

“Careful, baby,” he tutts, shaking his head slightly, tracing the blunt end down to the front of your mini skirt, “he could’ve heard you.”

‘He’ was the man who owned the house in the 19th century. ‘He’ murdered the intruder that came into his house and killed his wife. ‘He’ then turned the knife on himself out of sorrow.

Jack knew you admired that man’s story.

Your cheeks flush at the thought of a fucking ghost watching what Jack was about to do to you.

Jack’s bloody hand touched the blood on your chin, the two combining in his thumb. He puts his thumb in your bottom lip, silently demanding you to suck, and you do.

Jack huffs, feeling your tongue swirl around his thumb with so much eagerness as he swiftly tears your mini skirt with the knife, causing you to let go of his thumb when you gasped. The skirt hit the floor.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath the it, the coolness of the night making you shiver as Jack’s eyes drop to your lower half.

You intentionally wore nothing underneath your top and skirt, hoping that Jack would make quick work of fucking you when the two of you got home. Maybe get some roleplay in between to thrill you a little.

But this was way, way more than you hoped for and you could never complain. The hottest man you knew had full access to your body and he had a knife. You were at his mercy completely.

Jack softly kicks near your heal to push your legs further apart before the blunt edge traces up your inner thigh, the coolness of the knife making you shake slightly.

“Jack.”

Jack ignores your pathetic whimper and puts the blunt edge of the knife directly between your folds. He could see your thighs glistening and he was delighted to learn how turned on you were.

Your jaw drops and your nails dig into his muscular forearm. “Shit, J—”

“Not another sound, doll. Unless you’re screaming.” In fear.

He moves the knife deliciously against your clit, spreading your slickness through your pussy. His other (bloody) hand works up your waist and toys with the hem of your shirt.

You hear a floorboard creak in the hallway and still.

“Hm, y’hear that too, doll? Sounded like someone was right outside the door.”

Your eyes become teary as you bit down on your lip. Hard enough to taste the metallic flavor of blood. Something flashed in Jack’s eyes and he pulls the mask off.

His knifed hand doesn’t pause its movements while his other grabbed the back of your neck, pulling your mouth roughly against his. His lips meet yours in a tangle of tongues and harsh sucking to where your lip was bleeding.

You didn’t know his thing for blood was that strong.

He pulls away and removes the knife as well. He looks directly at you with his icy blue eyes and sticks his tongue out, laying it flat against the blunt end and licking your arousal clean. He hums in satisfaction.

“Not enough,” he says once the knife is clean. Your heart was pounding with desire and fear, waiting for his next move. “I’m gonna eat you,” he pauses and smirks, “out, of course.”

Making cannabalistic implications? He’s truly out of it.

You wait for his next move patiently, the thought of doing such a filthy thing in the one place people stay away from already making the desire in your stomach deepen.

To your surprise, he turns you around, your back now facing the slightly ajar door (didn’t Jack slam it shut?) and Jack’s back now facing the wall. He instructs you to lie down on the floor, and you prop yourself up with your elbows, knees spread and bent. Jack lies down in front of you on his stomach, hooking your legs over his shoulders and ghosting his lips up your thigh.

He could sense your confusion at the position. You knew that he knew that he could’ve just pushed you back a few steps, gotten on his knee, and eaten you out against the wall.

“Wanted your back facing the door,” he frees one of his hands to push the hair away from his face, “and, I wanted you lying down so when he walks in, he has a proper view.”

You can hardly believe the words left his mouth before he latched his lips onto your cunt, sucking and licking through your folds, trying to get as deep as he could. He could feel the moan building through your chest, so before you actually could, he grabs the knife from next to him and put it half an inch away from the spot he pierced earlier.

“What did I say?”

“Not a sound.” You echo his words from before and refrain from whimpering at the cold, almost dead look in his eyes. It’s like something possessed him.

He hums before licking a stripe through your folds again, his eyes not moving away from yours. Partially because he wanted to keep you intimidated and partially because the knife was still under your chin and he would rather die than risk a wrong movement.

“He’s watching us, baby.” You feel Jack’s smirk before you register his words. You look into his eyes for a plot second before he sucked your clit so harshly, you threw your head back to stop the moan clawing up your throat.

The mere thought of that ghost watching while Jack was buried deep between your legs caused the pool of warmth in your lower stomach increase.

You don’t know if it had been hours or seconds since Jack was alternating between giving attention to your clit and folds, how long Jack had been talking through it, heavy breathing while telling you about the ‘man’s every move. You don’t know exactly how out of it you’d been, but you look down to see your shirt ripped neatly down the middle, your tits hanging out and nipples hardening in the cool air, that you didn’t know when Jack even pulled away from you. The warmth of his hands on you never left.

He did it.

Subconsciously, you knew he didn’t do it, but the thought brought you closer regardless.

“He’s right behind you, doll.”

Your mouth parts in a silent whine and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your elbows were sore from the position, so you lay fully down, tangling your fingers through Jack’s messy hair as him and his words nearly tip you over the edge. The last thing you see is his eyes flashing as he eagerly licks and sucks your clit, as if he really saw someone standing behind you. Your back arches off the floor and it takes everything within you not to let out the high-pitched moan you were holding in.

You don’t know if it was some arousal induced hallucination but you swore you saw a figure when you threw your head back while Jack worked through your orgasm, but you knew it was what really tipped you over. Jack groans into you, kissing your inner thighs before pulling away.

He was amused, admiring your cloudy eyes and dazed expression. He hasn’t even gotten to fucking you yet.

He pulled off the now damaged top off of you and tapped your cheek. “Not done with you yet, baby. Hands and knees.”

He leaned down and quickly kissed you, a stark contrast to earlier. “Don’t need t’stay quiet this time.”

The bargain was enough for you to roll on your front, entirely bare in front of him now. You hadn’t noticed the dirty floor length mirror next to the door (that was now halfway open) earlier.

Jack met your eyes in the mirror, making quick work of his sweats and boxers, using his other hand to wrap around your neck, keeping you upright. He lets go of your neck and instead form hooks his thick arm around your chest, the blood on your tits coming onto his arm.

Another burst of wind rocks the house, floorboards creaking and you were sure you heard another door slam shut. You look up into Jack’s eyes and mirror his smirk.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #ellie writes 🙂‍↔️

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