#to go in front of all those guys as a woman with that much importance in the company. IN THE SIXTIES. think about it. Caroline...what a gal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ichangedmycornyahhname · 2 years ago

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Earth 42!Miles x Reader

The buzzing of the drill was soon drowned out by the shattering glass.

Summary: After a talk with Miles, reader finds herself at the nail salon. She was treating herself, just as he had requested. But that self care day soon turns into much more. Part 1. Here

Warnings: A little angst? Violence | Cursing | Some spice I suppose. | I’m gonna warn y’all now, I do not speak Spanish fluently at all, so if anything is wrong grammatically please correct me. | I’m actually thinking of making this into a mini series? Maybe a part. 3 after this. Also! Open to some title ideas.

Miles kept his promise. He sent her money to get her nails done. Which is why now she sat in her usual salon, her friend Roxanne drilling at her nails. The salon was hidden deep within the city, a little hole in the wall. With New York in shambles, people had to find some sort of way to feel normal. “What design are we doing this time Y/N? Freestyle again?” Y/N shook her head at her pink haired friend, causing her Roxy to smirk. “Oh, I see. What’s the idea then?”

“Was thinking of doing purple and black. Maybe a little green.” Those were Miles signature colors. His prowler costume consisted of different shades of purple and black, and she was sure her friend could come up with something good. “Hm, that’s new. Alright whatever you say.” Roxy gave a fond smile before getting to work. As she did so, Y/N found herself pondering on what to do after getting her nails done. Maybe go get some food, check on a few friends, avoid the crooks on every street. Possibly invite Miles over for a late night rendezvous. She sighed at the thought. She was completely smitten with the guy.

As time went by, and Roxy made quick progress, a low rumble began to stir beneath their feet. Followed by the loud roar of an engine. She traded a look with Roxy, who had a brow raised in suspicion. “You feel that too?” She questioned as the drill buzzed just above Y/Ns nail. “Yeah, what the hell is that?” She replied to the woman with dyed hair. It wasn’t just the two who noticed. Most people within the nail salon glanced around, concerned and confused by the sudden rumbling. The same rumbling that suddenly stopped. “Maybe it’s construction.” Roxy chimed, doing her best to stay optimistic. Then she got right back to work. The drill buzzed, shaving down the black base of the nail. “What’s got you so preppy? You still with that guy?” Y/N flushed at the question, her gaze averting from Roxy’s. “Yeah, we’re still together. He’s a really good guy, just really busy.” She fawned. “That’s good, glad you’re doing well girl. Was getting worried about you after the whole..” Roxy’s voice trailed off, and Y/N took this as a chance to cut in, “I’m fine Rox, he makes me feel happy. I promise.” She gave her a look of confirmation and Roxanne only nodded.

The atmosphere of the salon was pleasant, relaxing. She found herself spacing out, her eyes focusing in on nothing too important while she lightly bopped her head to the music playing in the background. Then the rumbling returned, and much louder this time around. It sounded close, too close for comfort. Following the noise, her eyes landed on an incoming cop car. She could barely make out the sparking metal of the rim where the missing tire was before the car skidded onto the it’s side and tumbled into the big front window of the salon. The crashing of glass filled the shop, along with the blaring siren and tumbling debris. Y/N ducked down at the sight of the crash, pulling Roxy along with her as the broken down car came to a slow stop in the middle of the salon.

Amidst the carnage, she could faintly make out the crumpled figure of a cop within the drivers seat. She had no clue who the guy was. In fact, she had no clue what was even going on. All she knew was the salon was in utter ruins, and the car was spilling oil into a large puddle beneath it. She felt overwhelmed by the sight. By the sirens ringing in her ears, by the smoke rising from the cars engine. “Holy fuck..Rox we gotta get out of here!” She half whispered half shouted. Her hand found Roxy’s, giving it a light tug as she led the shell shocked woman to the wide opening left by the car. “Hurry up girl..! I’m not trying to die here..” She almost hissed. As they made their way past the wrecked car, the smoke from the debris and vehicle flooded their lungs. Roxy began to cough, heavy and intense. This would’ve caught her attention if the incoming villain didn’t. He was large, bulky, and clad in dark angular armor. His aura oozed superiority, while his hardly visible eyes were stuck on the cop unconscious in the car. It would seem the armored man had a target. With this new found knowledge (assumption), she made haste towards the exit, somehow managing to slither out without catching the attention of the man in armor. “Rox..we gotta get out of here man. Before that big dude spots us..” She muttered as they hid behind large pieces of debris. Her eyes took a glance over the fallen pieces of building, the sight of the man approaching the car bringing a sort of relief to her. “What are you talking about Y/N? We can’t leave that cop in there. That guy will kill him..!” Y/Ns jaw slacked, shocked by her friends desire to rush into danger. “The hell are you talking about? We’ll be squashed like bugs if we go in there..” She found Roxy’s arm, and have it a harsh squeeze as she tried to get the woman to stay back. Though it would seem to be pointless. Roxy was already slipping away and sneaking her way back into the building.

Y/Ns hands found her hair. Her fingers tugged at the root as she watched frantically as her friend entered the building once more. “What the hell am I supposed to do. I can’t fight that dude he’s fucking huge..and I’ll be caught if I-“ She paused mid sentence as she came to a realization. And soon she was dialing Miles’ number, hoping that the fool would answer his phone.

“Please pick up..please..fuck.” Click, “Yeah, what’s up ma?”

“Oh thank fuck-“ A breath of relief left her now chapped lips, she had never been so thankful to hear his voice. “Miles, baby, you need to come quick!.. I was getting my nails done and then a cop car bursted through the damn window..now some big armor dude is about to kill him and my friend is trying to be a hero tryna save him..” Her words were quick, breathy, and frantic. And Miles immediately took notice of this. “Im..im at my usual place. Need you to hurry.” She whispered into the phone as she attempted to peek over to the scene that was unfolding.

“I’m on my way now.” Was all she received from her boyfriend. She wanted to respond, truly. But her tongue was tied, and her friend was about to be fighting for her life. Roxy had managed to get the cop out of the car, now dragging him out as quickly as she could, slippery streams of oil leaving a trail behind. “Cmon Rox..” She had long forgotten about her phone, and found herself at a crossroads. Should she help, be the good person she was raised to be? Or should she sit there and do nothing? She gulped, her hand visibly shaking around her phone as she mentally began to hype herself up. She had no clue what the rhino was doing this in the middle of the day, or any clue why he was only after the cop. But what she did know was that her friend was in danger. “Y/N? What’re you about to do?” She heard from the other side of the line. However, she didn’t reply. Instead she rushed over, still crouched down behind rubble as she made her way inside. “Rox! Rox..cmon grab his heavy ass and let’s get the hell out of here.” She cursed out as she found the man’s arm and tugged him away from the car, he was much more heavy than she had anticipated. “Thank you Y/N.” Roxy replied before tugging at the cops other arm. They worked to pull him out as quickly as possible, but the rhino took notice of this. His hard glare turned deadly, and he visibly uttered something inaudible to the panicking woman. “Hurry! Hurry!”

He growled, his head lowering as he changed positions. At first, she wasn’t sure what he was doing, and then she realized. He was charging, at them.

She dropped the cops arm and attempted to pull Roxanne off of the cop, her movements quick and frantic. And she almost budged, but it would seem as though shock had gotten to her, her grip unbreakable. “Roxy cmon!” She screamed, shrill with panic. They were going to die. They were going to die in a broke down nail salon because her friend wanted to save a cop. Y/Ns eyes slammed shut as she waited for the inevitable. Her breath caught in her throat at the incoming impact, but it never came. Instead the crash of another vehicle caused her ears to ring, followed by large hands shaking her out of her fear. “Hey. Hey you okay? Talk to me!” Her eyes shot open, her hands coming up to wrap around the figures wrists. “M- Mil- prowler.” She was absolutely relieved to see him, to hear that robotic filter on his voice as she stared at his mask. “I’m..okay..where’s uhm.” She took a moment, swallowing as she gathered herself. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her body was shaking with unease. She swallowed, spit wetting her dry mouth. Quickly she collected herself. “Roxy, where’s Roxy? And that cop?”

“They’re fine, but we gotta go before that dude wakes up. Cmon.” He said as he turned around and pulled her onto his back. She didn’t bother arguing, she didn’t have the energy. Somehow, Miles managed to drag all three of them out of the crash sight and far enough out of harms way. It was a dingy alley way, trash and other none-sense tossed around. Y/N was still resting on his back, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thought I was gonna die back there.” She uttered the words, but he heard them loud and clear. “Nah, I would never let that happen. You know that mami. I called the cops for your friend and that man. You’re coming home with me.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling, and she was perfectly fine with that.

Miles slipped into his apartment through the window, and trudged inside. He tossed his metal gauntlet onto the floor, his hands free to lay her onto his bed. The plush mattress underneath her body managing to relax her muscles. Miles didn’t join her in bed immediately. Instead he was packing his suit up along with his gauntlets, before stepping back over. Now in a simple black tank top and sweats. His gaze was soft, solemn even. His hand found a strand of her hair, fiddling with it as he watched her cautiously. “Wanna go clean up? I can start a bath or shower for you..” He asked as he took a seat on the bed beside her.

“Yeah, all this damn dust and sweat is gonna make me look a hot mess.” He gave a small chuckle at her joke, though he wasn’t all to amused by the entire situation. He figured it was best to get her comfortable before talking about anything. “Ight. Cmon then ma.” His hands went under her body, picking her up princess style and bringing her over to the bathroom. “I’ll bring you a towel and wash cloth, just gimme a sec.” He gently set her down, his hand lingering on her arm before he left only to briefly return.

“I left some clothes for you on the counter.” He mentioned before placing a kiss upon her forehead and departing from the restroom. She smiled, thankful for his presence. And soon she hopped in the shower. It was relaxing, the hot water pattering gently across her skin. The feeling of cleanliness as she washed the remainders of the day away.

Eventually, she was hopping out of the shower and putting the clothes he had given her on. It wasn’t anything special. Just a pair of his shorts and a shirt, but it felt special to her. Y/N made her way through Miles (Rio’s) apartment, finding her way into the kitchen to snatch up a few snacks. Thankfully Mrs. Morales was fast asleep in her room, so she went without questioning. Y/N made her way back to Miles’ room, entering and shutting the door behind her. His room was mature, calm colors, basic necessities. The usual stuff. Plus his punching bag that she played with on the occasion. From the windows opening, she could see the moons light shining through. She was a bit surprised to see how dark it had gotten. But, she had no issue with it. Not when she was still alive. She gave Miles a faint smile, “Don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful for a shower.” She chimed jokingly as she set the snacks down onto the bedside table. Then she plopped back down on his bed and wrapped herself up in his blanket. Miles was currently standing in front of his closet, fiddling with a glove from his suit as though he was contemplating something. This caught her attention. Sitting up, she sighed. “So, how exactly did you beat that guy?” She inquired, which caused his eyes to meet hers.

“Threw my motorcycle at him. Knocked him down long enough to get you out.” He said before tossing his glove onto his desk chair and making his way over to the bed. Her jaw was wide at his explanation, surprised at his confession. “Your motorcycle? Are you serious babe? That’s fucking crazy.” He only smirked as his hands intruded the blanket and his arms wrapped firmly around her torso. “I’ll just make another one with Unc.” His weight caused her to fall back on his bed, her head now snug in his pillow. His arms felt comforting around her as his head rested on her chest, his soft breaths managing to calm her down. Her hands found his hair, now fiddling with the ends of his braids. Sure, it wasn’t her first time seeing them, but she certainly thought the style suited him well. “I like them, they’re cute.” She said, which caused him to shift and rest his chin on her chest. He had a satisfied look on his face, one only a victor would wear.

“Knew you did. Mom thought they made me look weird, but eh, I think I like them.”

“Good, they suit you.” She nodded in agreement. They sat in silence for a moment, watching each other with gentle eyes. Her hands scratched lightly at his scalp, managing to make his eyes shut. It would seem that the only time Miles could truly allow himself to feel vulnerable, was around her. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, Miles spoke again, his tone much more serious. “Me dejaste preocupado mami..” He muttered, his words muffled as he burried his face back into her chest. This made her heart ache, her brows knitting with concern. “Mi vida, I’m okay now. You saved me..and my friend. Thank you.” He shook his head. “Next time you run. Call me, I’ll help your little friends. For now though, you’re my main priority.” He proclaimed before sitting up from her chest and leaning up to kiss her lips. “I’m serious Y/N. You run.” He spoke against her lips.

“Okay..” She mumbled, her eyes shut and her hands resting on his jaw. Her lips grazed his, the distance growing tantalizingly close. And finally he pressed back into her, lips meshing into hers as his hands traversed her sides. “So glad you’re okay..” He said in a hushed manner as he poured his love into every movement. His kisses slowly began to lower, finding her neck, then her collar bone, and- she hissed. Wincing beneath him, her body tensed and he froze. His hard stare lingered on her, awaiting a sign to stop or continue. “Sorry, think I got a bruise or something. You can keep going Miles.” He didn’t. Not there.

His hands found her legs, now pulling her thighs apart just enough to get closer to her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the anticipation of what’s to happen making her giddy with excitement. “Relajate, Y/N. You’re tired and need to rest.” He said as he shifted them around, the two of them now lying on their sides wrapped in one another’s arms. This caused her to sigh, a frown on her face as she glared up at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You just went through a lot, don’t want you hurting yourself more.” He said as he tugged the blanket over their forms.

“Next time don’t start it if you’re not gonna finish it Miles.” She scoffed before scooting into his chest, his familiar scent drawing a small grin from her. “Who said I wouldn’t finish it mami? Just letting you get better first.” She could feel him smirk against her head as he rested his face against the crown of it. His words were enough to silence her, along with the sudden depletion of adrenaline. The two snuggled together, the soft blankets paired with the warmth of one another was enough to make them dreary. “Fine..Goodnight, love you Miles.”

“Te amo ma.”

Taglist? - @willowcxmilee @rinouko @chims-kookies @bbybubbles @supremeshrimpy2 @marice23top @korizzybee @otaku-degenarate @movie-enthusiast22 @corpsebridenightamare @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @marsbars09 @dystop4in14nd @ethanlandrysgf69 @mmxinne @brxght-world @rinisfruity14 @repostingmyfavs @sammarvel123 @idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy @frissy @d4ridi0rsworld @julie03 @sakura-onesan @oh-kurva (Yall I’m never making a taglist again 🙁 props to y’all who do bc this is too much work.)

#x reader #spider man x reader #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #spider man across the spider verse #prowler #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #fluff

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d1xonss · 9 months ago

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Cigarettes After Sex

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) and a lil bit of angst

✧ Word Count : 5.6k

AN ~ Not a request but I had this idea that I just couldn't get out of my head. Plus I've been in the mood to write something a little spicy since you guys liked the Older oneshots so much. Hope you enjoy!

Your eyes stayed focused on the pages of the book you were reading in front of you in the smoke filled garage, occasionally turning the pages to continue on with the chapter. In the background you could hear the tools clinking around, along with a few curses that fell from his lips when he couldn’t get something just right. Every once and a while you couldn’t help but look up and stare at him for a few seconds, knowing the real reason you came out here to keep him company while he worked.

Over the past twelve, long years you had known Daryl, you still didn’t exactly know what you were to each other. Some would call the two of you friends, and though that may be true, you always knew there was something a little more there than what meets the eye. And you knew he felt it too, but neither of you were willing to admit that out loud. Too hardheaded, you supposed.

It always caught your attention when he left a few lingering touches on your skin, how he embraced you so dearly as if you were the most important person in the world, or even how he occasionally left a small kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but think he did all of these things for a reason, as if to ease you into something that he was always terrified of. And hell, maybe he was easing himself into it too.

You always knew he was never much of a romantic person, he never quite showed interest in anyone else the way he always did with you. Though when he finally did open his heart up to a woman named Leah all those many years ago, he got absolutely crushed in the process, leaving you heartbroken for him as you witnessed him go through it all. In the back of your mind, you hoped it would work out between the two of them because you knew he deserved someone that would treat him right. And though that person may not have been you, it didn’t matter, as long as he was happy. That’s all you had ever wanted for him.

However, you couldn’t help but notice ever since he got hurt, he had been slowly pulling away from you. Not in a way that was drastic, but you always seemed to notice the little things. He had completely stopped showing you affection whatsoever which was very out of character for him considering how close you were. All of the little things he used to do that would make you smile, he had brought to a halt without warning. The only thing that he really did now was just a small squeeze on your shoulder, and that’s only if you were lucky.

It frustrated you slightly, not because of his sudden wall he built up, but because subconsciously he thought you would hurt him the same way she did. He was now scared that the same thing would happen all over again. And it bothered you in a way he could never understand. Because after all you had been through together, he still didn’t seem to know you at all.

“Pass me that screwdriver, will ya?”

Your thoughts cut short when he started to speak, absentmindedly nodding your head as you turned towards the toolbox that was placed right next to you. You dug through them for a moment before you spotted the familiar red handle, grabbing it and stretching your arm out to hand it over to him.

He met your hand halfway as he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks.” he muttered with a small smile, the cigarette still dangling from his lips as he spoke.

You nodded before watching him for another moment, tilting your head to the side, “What’re you fixing up anyway?”

He shrugged as his eyes stayed down, “Just some repairs…nothin too fancy.” he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing as he worked.

“Ah.” you muttered with a small nod, going back to your book as you assumed he didn’t want to be bothered while he focused.

Though upon hearing your small mutter, the quietness taking over the space, Daryl subtly looked back up at you for a moment. He knew things had been different, way different than what the two of you were used to, and a part of him felt bad. Mostly because he knew it was his own fault. He had pushed you away when you had done nothing wrong, and he felt guilty for it every single day.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat as he took a puff from his cigarette, “Ya still want me to teach ya?” he asked, his tone growing softer than before.

You glanced up from your book again, seeing the small smile he had on his face as he reminded you of something you had requested a long time ago. You had rode on the back of his motorcycle many times before, but a part of you wanted to learn how to ride all by yourself. And he clearly remembered.

A smile wormed its way onto your face as well as you nodded, “Yeah…yeah I’d like that.”

He nodded in return as he went back to tuning up his bike, “Gotta start ya off slow though. Can’t have ya crashin into some tree the first time ya get on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself with a roll of your eyes, “Right, we probably wouldn’t want that. But I think I’ll have a pretty good teacher…I’m not too worried.”

His heart swelled, though you couldn’t see, but that comment touched him in a way, “Yeah?” he asked as he looked back up at you.

You nodded again, “I trust you.”

You trusted him. That little comment meant more to him than you could even fathom. It meant that after all the things he had put you through, all the things he regretted, you still loved and trusted him just the same. He couldn’t help but pause for a long moment as he contemplated all of that, how only a few little words could mean the absolute world.

Though when he was lost in his own mind, the cigarette that he now held between his two fingers, slightly burned his skin as some hot ash fell from the tip. He let out a small noise as he shook it off, only now noticing how smokey the space was from how much he was chain smoking with you in the room. He knew you never cared, but a part of him still felt a little bad.

“Sorry.” he muttered as he raised his hand to fan the area a bit, “Didn’t realize how much I hotboxed ya.” he chuckled a little.

You laughed it off as well, waving him off, “You know I don’t mind. Actually I kinda like the smell.”

He raised his eyebrow a bit at the unexpected comment, looking down to the stick in his grasp as he thought about your words for a moment, “Ya never told me that.” he muttered.

You shrugged, “Never really came up I guess. But I don’t know, it’s always kind of been comforting.”

Daryl silently knew what that meant without you even having to explain. And that only made his chest fill with even more warmth than before, knowing he was the reason behind your words. He knew he meant a lot to you, but just hearing you say that his bad habit was somewhat of a comfort to you, it almost made his mindset shift.

You absentmindedly closed your book as you noticed he grew quiet, “You know any cool tricks?” you asked with a smirk.

He huffed quietly with a small smile, wordlessly taking another hit and holding it for a moment before effortlessly blowing it out in small spurts, the smoke forming into little o shapes in the air. You nodded to yourself as you watched him, “Solid.”

He chuckled a little, “Thank you, thank you.” he said as he bowed his head a bit.

Tilting your head a little, you thought to yourself about any more little tidbits he might have experienced, “Have you ever shotgunned it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Who’s askin?”

“Me.” you smiled sweetly.

He found himself chuckling again, shaking his head as a few memories came to mind, “Uh yeah…yeah I have.” he admitted a bit sheepishly, hoping you wouldn’t ask for any details.

A hum passed through your lips in response, opening your mouth to speak again, though he seemed to beat you to it, “You ever done anything like that?”

You scoffed, “Who’s asking?”

But he didn’t answer you. He only stared at you with the same small smile, however, there seemed to be something a little more behind his eyes. Though you couldn’t tell what that was, it intrigued you slightly. “No…” you answered honestly.

“Ya wanna try?”

It felt like your heart had dropped and settled into your stomach, swearing that you heard him wrong. “You’re not serious.”

But the smile on his face only grew a little, confirming to you just how serious he was as he nodded for you to come closer to him, “Come here.”

In all honesty he didn’t know what he was doing, and seeing the shock on your face only made the small pit in his stomach grow further, though he didn’t show it. He couldn’t really think in that moment at all about how this could be perceived, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you. Suddenly having a craving for it, having been without it for far too long.

A few beats of tense silence passed before you finally found the strength to stand to your feet, moving closer towards him as he stood tall as well. You tilted your head back a bit as you looked up at him, standing just a few inches away as you almost waited for him to instruct you on what to do next. Because in all honesty, you didn’t know what you were doing.

His eyes traced over your face for a moment, almost wanting to ask you to stand a little bit closer to him, but ultimately he refrained. He knew he couldn’t be greedy with you, not when you were already so precious to him. He only held the cigarette out towards you, watching as your delicate hand took it from his grasp, all while never removing your gaze from his.

“Go on and take a long drag.” he instructed, his voice coming off in an anticipating whisper.

You only nodded your head in response, placing the end of it in between your lips as you slowly inhaled all the smoke it had to offer. Daryl couldn’t help but stare down at your lips the entire time, he studied you in the most mesmerizing way it almost caused you to choke on your own spit. Yet you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you grow a little frustrated all over again.

Your heart then fluttered when the smoke filled your lungs, taking the cigarette away from your mouth as you leaned up on your tiptoes to get closer to him. His hand instinctively came up to cradle your jaw as he pulled you even closer to his lips, feeling them barely brush against each other before the blissful feeling would soon wash over the two of you.

Exhaling the smoke, you blew the thick cloud right into his mouth, hearing a quiet groan leave him in response. It surprised you how good it felt, how your skin practically ignited with fire at his simple sound of enjoyment, it made your mind wander to a very dangerous place. His hand didn’t stray away from your face as he inhaled the smoke until he physically couldn’t anymore, the craving he felt only building to a new level as a part of him wanted to taste you. Just for a moment.

But the thought vanished, everything crashing down in an instant as he felt you pull away from his mouth, clearing your throat a bit. His eyes fluttered open to see you standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the two of you had never dared to cross this line before in the past.

“Well, I guess now I can cross that one off the bucket list.” you joked with a small, forced laugh.

“Do it again.”

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as he spoke with zero hesitation in his tone, not even acknowledging that you made a comment at all. “What?” you asked quietly.

He took a small breath before speaking again, repeating the phrase, “Do it again.”

If you weren’t stunned before, you sure as hell were now as you stood almost frozen before him. To say it was one thing, but to repeat it with such confidence was another. He was serious. What started out as just a suggestion, now turned into something a lot more real.

But you found you didn’t protest. Because you wanted it too.

You then held the cigarette back up to your lips, inhaling it all over again as you were surprised you didn’t cough even once in the whole process. His eyes practically lit up as he saw you repeat the action, mentally preparing himself for the familiar feeling that would hit him all over again. But the thing he couldn’t get past was that he had never felt it before now. He only felt it with you. And it was very surreal.

Your perfect lips parted from the cigarette after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, moving back up to him to exhale the smoke into his mouth once more. The man breathed it in as if he needed it to stay alive, his hands coming up to your arms to hold you in place as if he was scared you would pull away again. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not even if you wanted to. The slightest brush of your lips made your breath hitch, but before you could even register what you were doing, you pressed your lips firmly to his. It almost didn’t feel real.

Daryl responded immediately, instantly bringing you into him as he wrapped his arms around you to hold you closer to his chest. Your hands went up to the sides of his face, tilting your head a bit so your noses wouldn’t clash so much, the kiss intensifying in just a split second. It was like all the years of the built up tension, the built up feelings, were now finally being unleashed after so long of waiting. You supposed before it was never the right time, but now, it couldn’t have felt more perfect.

His tongue moved to run along your lips almost teasingly, begging for an entrance as his hands gripped you even tighter. And you accepted his request, parting your lips for him and feeling his excitement grow as he didn’t take it for granted. His tongue swirled rapidly in your mouth, letting out a groan of pleasure as he tasted your sweetness. You shivered slightly at the low rumble you heard from him, something about it turning you on even more as you had never heard that sound from him before. It was like a switch flipped.

He continued to absolutely devour your mouth, his hands now running down the curves of your body in a slow and teasing manner, taking his time. You gasped softly as you felt your skin almost tingling under his touch, wanting to feel him everywhere. So without thinking, you quickly moved your hands down to his chest as you frantically began to try and tear his shirt off of him. Your fingers worked on each of the buttons, though you couldn’t see what you were doing, it all felt like it was happening so fast you almost had no time to prepare yourself.

But in a fit of panic, Daryl quickly pulled back from your mouth as the feeling of you trying to take off his shirt finally registered in his mind. He still remained close to you, but his sudden actions stopped you from yours, your hands freezing in place as it was clear you had pushed him too far. But your expression was filled with confusion and concern as you couldn’t understand why he looked almost scared to go any further.

He sighed as his eyes remained closed, almost ashamed to look at your face as he gently leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I…I can’t.” he whispered.

Your eyes seemed to widen as it clicked in your mind. He hadn’t done anything like this since Leah. Since he had been burned so badly by her. Since he was left shattered and heartbroken because of what she did to him. He opened up to her unlike anyone else, and she left him. A lump formed in your throat as the realization set in for you, seeing just how scared he was for this to potentially happen to him all over again.

“I can’t do this, I…I can’t lose you too.”

You sighed softly as you shook your head, your hands tilting his face up a little more, “Hey, look at me.”

He simply shook his head, his eyes remaining closed, “Daryl, look at me.” you pleaded quietly.

When he did finally open his eyes, you could see he was starting to tear up, breaking your heart even further. Not only to see how much he was hurting, but how much he was truly terrified to lose you. Although in your mind, that wasn’t even a possibility.

“You couldn’t lose me, okay? Ever.” you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You know me…I would never hurt you like that. Never.”

Upon hearing your voice reassure him so sweetly, his tears slowly slipped down his cheeks, watching as he swallowed thickly to try and pull himself together. But you didn’t want him to be embarrassed. You understood more than he probably realized. Which is why you were quick to wipe them away with your thumbs, leaning up to kiss the ones you had missed in hopes to offer him even more comfort.

He shuttered under your touch, quickly finding your lips with his own again as he kissed you deeply, holding the back of your head steady as his lips were filled with passion. You responded to his kiss with hesitance, not wanting to push him again as you didn’t have a clear response to how he was feeling. But once you felt him take your hands, guiding them back up to the buttons on his shirt, you had your answer.

In a flurry of hurried kisses and laughs, nearly tripping over one another as you tried to make it back inside the house, the two of you finally landed on the couch in the living room. Neither of you really cared about trying to make it all the way upstairs, almost as if it was a silent agreement that you were both impatient. You panted heavily as each piece of fabric was being discarded onto the floor faster than you could even realize, yet his hands moved across your skin with such ease and gentleness. The action alone told you a thousand things, and yet he didn’t need to say a word.

You quickly lowered yourself to your knees the second you saw the opportunity, getting in between his legs as he sat on the couch. His eyes widened at your actions, “Aye, you don’t gotta-”

But his words were cut off with a groan as you lowered your mouth to the tip of his dick, darting your tongue out to slowly swirl around and tease him the smallest bit. You knew you didn’t have to, but you wanted him to feel special for once, you wanted him to feel important and loved. And besides, you just couldn’t help yourself as your mouth practically watered at the sight. And the small noises he was letting out as you licked sensually along his shaft, was almost like a reward of some kind.

He threw his head back slightly as his hands went up to hold your hair back for you, feeling you teasingly lower your lips just a little at a time to take more of him in your mouth. It was almost like torture with how slow you were going, but it was also the most enjoyable torture he could even endure. His muscles twitched in anticipation and he was already beginning to sweat, clenching his teeth together all the while.

“Come on,” he muttered breathlessly, talking more to himself than he was to you.

But you still took it as a sign, seeing he had enough and finally lowered your mouth even more to take him further. A shaky moan left his parted lips at your actions, hissing slightly when he felt your teeth barely brushing against him as well, though it wasn’t enough to hurt. Just enough to get his attention. You then began slowly bobbing your head up and down the length of him, swirling your tongue and hollowing out your cheeks to really make him squirm. His hands tightened around your hair in response, another low groan echoing around the room as he basked in the state of pleasure you provided.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, growing even more sensitive to you as your pace began to gradually pick up, trying to take even more of him in your mouth. You couldn’t lie though, he was bigger than what you had experienced in the past, which made you almost nervous. But hearing what you were doing to him so far, it gave you the right motivation you needed to keep going.

“F-Fuck.” he breathed as the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, feeling your hands running up and down his thighs as you tried not to gag. Though he felt you struggle a bit, pulling your hair up slightly as if signaling you that you could ease up if you needed, but you didn’t. He felt too good in your mouth for you to want to stop.

Your head then moved a bit faster, taking him as deep as you could as you heard his whimpers and moans, not even trying to hold them back anymore. He wanted to make it known how good you were making him feel, just the sound of it was enough to make you wet, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Your spit soaked him completely, making it almost easier to take him entirely in your mouth as you felt him hit the back of your throat almost every time with each pass.

His breath hitched, “Oh shit,” he muttered as he tried to regulate his breathing, “Ya need to get up here…come on.” he almost pleaded.

And you didn’t need to be told twice, feeling how hard he was now he was nearly throbbing in your mouth, knowing he was close to falling apart. So your lips slowly parted from his aching dick, leaving a few lingering kisses behind before you slowly stood back up to your feet with a smile. Looking at his face now, he gazed at you as if you put all the stars in the sky, as if you painted him the most beautiful sunset you could’ve ever laid your eyes on. Or as if you had given him the best head of his life.

He watched as you wiped your mouth from the spit that nearly dribbled down your chin, quickly reaching forward to pull you in and crash his mouth against yours, licking your lips completely clean. You giggled in response to his eagerness, attempting to remove your thong as it was the last thing in the way, struggling to kick it off your ankles. Though the moment it hit the ground, you instantly moved forward and broke away from his mouth for only a moment, straddling his hips as you hovered on top of him.

The man nearly gawked at the sight of you, “God…” he muttered as if he couldn’t find the words. But you knew what he was getting at, knowing that his actions always spoke louder than his words ever could. And he only proved that further when he lowered his mouth to one of your breasts, sucking gently at your nipple to elicit a small whimper from you.

You could feel his lip curl up in response to your little noises, his hand coming up to gently massage the other with his rough fingers. The scratchiness of his calloused palms made it even better somehow, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine as you lowered yourself a little more onto him in response. He hummed at your actions, encouraging you to continue as his mouth worked wildly along your breast.

One of your hands then moved down to gently guide his tip towards you, running it up and down your slit to gather the wetness that pooled there. Your chest heaved up and down as you were almost overwhelmed with the tingles running through your entire body, nearly causing you to shake.

Daryl’s mouth then dragged all across your skin, leaving a small trail of small hickies along your chest, groaning as you continued to play with him a little. Your other hand came up to run through his hair, tilting your head back a little as you dragged his dick up to circle around your pulsing clit. That seemed to cause you both to gasp, the slow and tormenting teasing beginning to be too much as Daryl quickly removed his mouth from you, his hands moving to your hips as if to position you in the most perfect way he could.

You followed his lead as your hands moved up to his shoulders to steady yourself, feeling him move his dick down to your entrance to align himself with you. And when you finally sunk down onto him, it felt like absolute heaven. A long, slow moan left your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing a harsh grunt escape him as he tried to refrain from pounding into you. He knew he needed to take his time, wanting to draw this out for as long as he could as if it were the first and last time. He hoped for more, he prayed for more, but he knew it was never guaranteed.

His forehead fell to rest in the middle of your chest as the two of you basked in the pure errotic experience, slowly managing to move your hips once you were ready. It was slow at first, gradually easing into it as you lowered yourself back down onto him again and again, your hands moving to grip the back of his hair. He groaned as he felt you tug a little at his roots, but in all honesty, he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it.

You moaned softly as you rocked your hips against his, pulling almost all the way off of him before he filled you completely once more. What you were feeling was almost indescribable, not having felt it with any other man you had been intimate with in your entire life. But with him, it felt so different, so incredibly good. Like his body was made for yours, fitting together perfectly like a puzzle piece you had been missing for far too long. And you weren’t the only one feeling like that, with him squirming beneath you, it was just a sign to not stop your movements anytime soon.

You bounced on him at a steady pace as you balanced yourself, feeling his hand travel down to rub slow circles along your clit with his thumb. You nearly cried out in response, your heart racing out of your chest, “Oh fuck…yes.” you breathed as his pace quickened.

“Yeah? Ya like that?” he asked as his face moved close to whisper in your ear, feeling his teeth gently bite down on your earlobe.

Your mouth fell open in response as you gasped, nodding your head frantically, “Yes…yes.” you moaned as you continued to rock against him, feeling your wetness drip all over him with how aroused you were.

“Mmm,” he hummed his mouth traveling down to kiss along your jawline, “You’re doin so good sweetheart.” he breathed as he held back a groan, “So good.”

His praise only spurred you on more, your fingers tugging a bit harder at his hair which caused him to groan, thrusting his hips up into you to match your pace. The sinful sounds that escaped you should never be heard by anyone, you couldn’t even believe you were the one making them. But he was the one to cause all those little reactions, adding something more to push you over the edge. And it was working too, you had felt it ever since you were down on your knees in front of him. The familiar tingling in your stomach was building to the point where it could spill over at any moment.

He panted heavily as he began to suck on the base of your neck, “I love you…God, I love you.” he whispered.

The words threw you off guard for a moment as your eyes widened, but you didn’t stop, nor were you scared to say it back. “I love you too.” you responded breathlessly.

That phrase had gone unspoken between the two of you for years, constantly avoiding saying it to each other for no reason at all. Perhaps it was stubbornness, or just the fear of the feelings not being reciprocated. But for whatever reason, this moment alone brought it out to the open. And it couldn’t have felt better.

Daryl thrusted deeper into you upon hearing your response, causing you to gasp as you felt the string finally snap inside you, releasing your orgasm as your muscles twitched. Feeling you squeezing him, he cursed as he quickly pulled himself out of you in one swift motion, cumming all over your stomach. You could’ve sworn your vision went black for a moment as you slowly came down from your blissful high, not a word being said for a few minutes at least as you both tried to regain yourselves.

His head rested against your chest again, his lips beginning to leave a trail of kisses up your skin as your eyes were still hazy, leading them up to your neck where he nuzzled his face, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed in response, running your fingers through his hair as you thought to yourself for a moment, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Did you…really mean that?” you whispered hesitantly.

He pulled his face back to look at you, his head still too far up in the clouds that he clearly didn’t hear you. The big grin on his face was evidence of that. “Hm?”

You huffed with a small smile, “The whole…I love you thing…did you really mean it? Or was it like the heat of the moment.”

His brows furrowed in concern as he gently cupped the sides of your face, “Of course I meant it. I love you.” he repeated again, as if to make sure you really heard him.

You smiled in slight relief, “Did you mean it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” you said with a breathy laugh, “I just…wanted to make sure.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, darlin,” he said as he leaned in to rub his nose against yours lovingly, “I’ve always loved ya…my dumbass just took too long to admit it.”

You shook your head in response, “It’s okay. I understand why.”

He sighed quietly as he thought about how much he may have missed out on, how much went down the drain just because he was scared. Not only to have his heartbroken, but to potentially lose one of his best friends if you didn’t feel the same way he did. There was always a risk, but he let the fear consume him, and now he was kicking himself for it seeing how easy it was to be with you. He should’ve always known, and now he felt he was too late.

You quickly noticed his change in his expression and gently tilted his chin up so he’d look at you, “Hey…what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, “M’ just…m’ sorry.”

“For what?” you asked in confusion.

“For not actin on this years ago. For pushin ya away when I was hurtin just because I was nervous about it happenin all over again.” he stopped suddenly to gather his thoughts, “I just feel like I wasted so much time.” he finished with a whisper.

Your face was filled with worry about hearing him apologize for something that he had nothing to be sorry for. It hurt you seeing how much this was affecting him, knowing that the two of you should be happy that it finally happened. Not wanting to dwell on the past.

You leaned in to gently kiss his lips for a moment, pulling away enough to speak, “Well, it’s a good thing we got all the time in the world now.” you smiled.

His eyes slowly filled with a little more hope, “You mean…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I love you.”

He let out a small breath he was unaware he was holding, pulling you close to press multiple kisses all over your face, “I love you too.” he whispered, continuing to trace his lips wherever he could reach, igniting an infectious laugh from you.

It seemed his prayers were answered.

~ Thanks for reading!

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weneepie · 3 months ago

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mixed feelings w/ bruce wayne rules | m.list

note. hiii i'm back (who knows for how long lmao) but i wanted to write a fake dating au with bruce so here we go! feel free to request, i'll try to do them as soon as possible <3

How difficult it was to be the official girlfriend of no one else than Bruce Wayne himself. It was even more since you weren’t his real girlfriend but only a cover for him to always have someone to bring during those never ending galas. It wasn’t an easy life ; people were always asking questions about your relationship, about an intimacy you didn’t share with him at all.

Why would you be doing this? Because Bruce was paying you well. More than well actually, it was more than you could ever gain with a classic full-time job. There was no way you would let go of this opportunity just because you were tired of those fake asses everywhere. You were stronger than that, especially for so much money.

So here you were, talking with some women at one of those parties where he always brought you to. You could sense the jealousy and tension in their tone as they spoke to you. After all, you were supposedly dating the heir of Gotham, the most powerful man in this sick city. You could understand their behavior in a way, you would have probably not be better than them.

Until you heard a voice you couldn’t recognize. You had come to enough parties to know almost everyone by now, but this one? You couldn’t tell. When you turned around, your eyes laid on a charismatic man, with a charming smile. His blond soft locks were pushed back, giving him a clean look. Behind those blue eyes, you could feel a man that used to have his way with everyone ; you could recognize them so easily.

“Milady,” he took your hand in his, bringing it closer to his lip so he could leave a gentle kiss on the back of it, against the dark glove that was covering your delicate hand. You were a bit surprised, because no one ever dared touching you like this before. You were here with Bruce Wayne after all, nobody wanted this man against them.

“It’s an honor to be finally meeting the woman I have heard so much about.” His voice was smooth, too much for it to be without any second thought behind. But all you did was to smile gently at him, your soft gaze laying on his face. You had to be correct, polite ; it was the most important thing, as Bruce always said.

“And you are?” You asked without a harsh tone, just wanting to know who the man in front of you was. You were curious, you had to admit it. You weren’t used to this kind of behavior at all. And this is how you ended up spending some time with this man, without your supposed boyfriend noticing anything.

Until he did. And oh God, the man felt something ignite inside his veins. When his eyes laid on your figure, so close to this guy, all smiling and laughing like you rarely did with him, it didn’t feel right, not to him. You should be like this with him, not anyone else.

You were about to say something when you felt a hand resting against your hip. It didn’t take you long to recognize his touch ; those hands could be to one man alone. You looked at the man with your softest smile, the one you had so much practiced. But he wasn't looking at you. Oh no. All his attention was fixed on the blondie in front of you.

“Bruce Wayne! What a pleasure.” He offered his hand to Bruce, and you could feel his fingers slightly tensing around your hip. He shook the man’s hand, but it was pure politeness. He had an image to protect, but it was obvious that if it was only him, he would already have hit the guy right in the face for acting so casually with you.

You didn’t have time to talk much more with the man, because your ‘boyfriend’ decided it was enough for the night, and that you should both be going by now. You were in his expensive car as he drove you back to your apartment. The mood was… awful. Something felt so off, and you couldn’t understand what.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked him, glancing at his figure in the driver’s seat. He frowned a little at his words, just enough for you to notice it. You sighed ; it was really feeling like talking to a child who doesn’t have the toy he wanted. “I did as you told me to, I tried to sympathize.”

A bitter chuckle left his lips at his words, and this time it was your turn to frown. You didn’t like that, when he was acting like it was your fault when you clearly didn’t do anything wrong. “Speak already!” You snapped at him and he suddenly stopped the car, letting a light gasp leaving your lips. You looked back at him, eyes widened.

“Are you mad?” You almost yelled at him, and this time he was looking right into your eyes. “You had fun with this stupid guy, uh? Was it so great?” Reality finally hit you. He was jealous. Bruce Wayne, the cold and indifferent heir of Gotham, was jealous of some random guy you spent the night with. You couldn’t believe it.

“Seriously? What are you scared of, that he paid me enough to leave? I won't-” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as Bruce reached your face with his hand to hold your chin between his fingers. He was calm, too calm. “I don’t care about how he could pay you. It’s not about money.”

Not about money? With him? Something was clearly wrong. “It’s about you. You shouldn’t have eyes for anyone else other than me.” He let go of your chin, putting his hand back on the steering wheel, focusing on the road again.

It was difficult to follow a man who had such mixed feelings, so tortured in his mind. You simply glanced at him, before you looked through the window, waiting for the car to finally arrive at your place. It was not like you could do anything about this anyway.

Time would tell how things will turn out, but no one other than Bruce could change how it was.

thank you for reading!

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne headcanon #batman #batman x reader #batman headcanon #dc comics #dc x reader #dc batman #dc bruce wayne #x reader

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avoxrising · 1 year ago

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The Feral One • Chapter 8

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

This chapter makes me want to cry especially knowing what I’ve prewritten for them.

Content Warnings - Talk of rape and murder, mental torture, talks of prostitution, tooth rotting fluff

One moment you were all sitting on the beach, the next moment, Finnick was bolting into the jungle after Katniss. You get up to follow but Johanna tells you to stay put.

She returns a minute later, beckoning for you and Peeta to follow. Something must be wrong with them.

You can spot Finnick and Katniss huddled on the jungle floor, hands over their ears as they try to block out some kind of noise.

“Jabberjays,” Johanna sighs. “They’re stuck in that wedge for the next hour.”

“Can they hear us?” Peeta asks as he tries to break the barrier with his machete.

“Nope,” Johanna states.

You sit on the other side of the barrier from Finnick, watching as the birds torture him. His nose is bleeding but otherwise he seems physically unharmed.

Who would they use against you if you were in there? Would they use the voices of your dead family?

The only person they could hurt you with was the one sitting right in front of you.

An hour can feel like an eternity when you have to sit and watch the one person you love slowly lose their mind. When the barrier drops, Peeta runs to Katniss while you walk slowly towards Finnick.

Sitting down in front of him, you set your good hand next to his to alert him to your presence.

“Finn,” you sigh, seeing the pain in his face when he looks up at you.

“You were screaming,” he states. “They were torturing you and I couldn’t stop them.”

“I’m ok,” you reply.

You sit with him in silence while Johanna rants about the games and Katniss freaks out about her sister. I guess that’s who’s voice she heard.

“Can we go to the beach?” Finnick asks and you nod, walking down with him to the shore.

The two of you sit on the edge of the water, closer than you would usually sit but you can tell he needs the comfort.

“I can’t lose you,” he tells you as you stare out towards the cornucopia.

“I can’t promise you won’t,” you respond. “But I’ll try.”

“No you have to promise,” he states with pain in his voice. “I can’t lose you.”

You look at him and see how honest he is. As much as you’d like to hope he could survive without you, you worry he can’t.

“You won’t,” you sigh, looking into his sea green eyes.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asks. “I need to know you aren’t going to slip away from me.”

You allow him to grab your hand, feeling his calloused fingers against your smooth ones. The jabber jays must have really gotten to him as he never asks for physical contact with you.

Higher up the beach, Katniss notices the scene by the water.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to touch her,” she comments.

“Only he is,” Johanna replies. “Nobody else.” This made sense to Katniss after hearing her scream for Finnick for an hour.

“Why does touching her set her off?” Katniss asks. “I didn’t see her react that way in her games.”

Johanna sighs and looks out towards her two friends.

“She was, uh, raped during her victory tour,” she explains. “Killed the guy during it and hasn’t spoken or allowed people to touch her since. That’s why the capital calls her Feral, but they skewed the story to make it seem like she attacked him unprovoked.”

Katniss silently stares at Y/N, unsure of how to process that information.

“He was a game maker,” Johanna continues. “An important man in the capital. She never healed from it.”

“I don’t know how one would,” Beetee chimes in. “She’s been through a lot.”

“Why aren’t they together?” Peeta asks the older victors.

“They’re stubborn,” Johanna shrugs. “She doesn’t want to hurt him and he has a complicated deal with the capital that would make dating hard.”

“It would be hard to date all those capital women with a girl back home,” Katniss mutters.

“Don’t assume he likes jumping from woman to woman in the capital,” Johanna angrily states. “All victors have duties we don’t have a say in. Ever wonder why most of us have families anymore?”

Katniss swallows and looks at Johanna, shocked by this revelation.

“That could have easily been you.”

“What do you want to do when all of this is over?” Finnick asks you. You’re still holding hands and you’ve moved to rest your head on his shoulder. For once the contact isn’t bothering you.

“Go back to four,” you reply. “To our old routine.”

“That would be nice,” Finnick hums. He wishes so badly that he could tell you everything but he can’t. He barely convinced Plutarch to put you on the rescue list. He wasn’t sold on the idea of you being brought to 13 with your unpredictability.

When this is all over he wants to go back to four with you. He wants to move out of victors village to your own house by the sea with a big garden you can walk freely in. He wants to spend the days outside with you, showing you around the district you haven’t explored in 5 years.

He wants you to be his, permanently. He thinks you’d say yes, but at the same time he isn’t certain. He’s never asked you out for the simple reason that Snow would kill you if he did. He told Finnick as much.

He hopes you realize how much he loves you, even if he can’t show it.

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick #finnick fluff #thg finnick #thg series #catching fire #the feral one

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atleastpleasetelephone · 2 months ago

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Little Darling

Chapter 1 - See You Hiding In Plain Sight

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

The masterlist is here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 5K ish

TWs: Little bit of angst - Tegan cries.

A/N: I have genuinely ummed and ahhed about posting this, so please, if you enjoy it let me know in the comments / give it a reblog.

Elvis does another lap around the hall, watching the little groups of people being taught by the black belt students. This is his first time teaching karate in Memphis for a few months, he’s been busy setting up a new Presley Studio in Manhattan and it’s really taken it out of him. He’s glad to be back home at Graceland. There’s always a sense of peace there, though there aren’t as many people around as he would like, his old friends are still nearby and it’s good to see them.

He generally tends to stick to high-level supervision at the Memphis classes when he’s there, just keeping an eye on things, not directly teaching too much. It’s an important part of grading so he doesn’t want to take that away from his more able students. But sometimes he can’t resist, and this is one of those times. There are a couple of women taking it in turns to roundhouse kick the pad, whilst one of his less confident black belts tries to explain to them what they’re doing wrong. It’s clearly not going very well, since they’re not improving and one of them is starting to look ever so slightly upset about it. He decides to intervene.

“Hey, Charlene, is it?”

The black belt flushes red immediately and nods.

“Ah honey, why dontcha let me take over here for five. You go and help out the bigger group.”

“Sure,” Charlene replies, scurrying off to do as she’s told. She’s not used to Elvis being there and she can’t help but find him intimidating, especially when it seems like he thinks she’s not doing a good job.

Elvis smiles after her and then looks back to the other two women. “Hi there. I’m Elvis. Feet together, bow.”

They both quickly put their feet together and bow back to him, but he immediately notices that one of them looks at the floor whilst she’s doing it. The same woman who was looking a little upset a minute ago.

“Hey, honey. What’s your name?”

“Tegan.”

“Tegan. And you?”

“Maria.”

“Tegan and Maria. Okay, let's try that bow again and this time keep your eyes on me. You need to keep your eyes on your opponent at all times, even before you actually start fighting. Okay?”

They both nod, and repeat the bow. Tegan can feel herself blushing a little being made to keep her eyes on him. She hadn’t really been expecting The Elvis Presley to turn up to this class, even though she had heard rumours that sometimes he did. Obviously she’d had a crush on him when she was younger - who hadn’t - but even now she wouldn’t say no. He might be older, but he’s still an attractive guy. His bright blue eyes contrast with his full head of snowy white hair, both of which are set off by the black gi he’s wearing. He’s charismatic, too. He stares back at her with a kind of fierce intensity that makes her want to immediately forfeit the fight, if they were actually going to have one. He wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.

“Okay, let me show you a roundhouse off the front foot.”

Elvis spends the next fifteen minutes or so drilling kicks with the two women, demonstrating himself and then giving them detailed feedback. Maria is completely laid back, takes everything in stride and makes good progress. Tegan makes progress too, but Elvis can see something simmering away there under the surface. Watches her clench her jaw when she gets frustrated, and try to cover up with laughter when he tells her what she’s doing wrong.

“Okay. Take five, have some water.”

Elvis feels like he needs to take more than five right now, he’s still exhausted from the flight and he probably demonstrated more kicks than were strictly necessary. Showing off? Trying to prove he’s still got it? He sits down on one of the benches and sighs a little. This is one of those days where he really feels like an old man.

Tegan sits down next to him as Maria goes for a toilet break.

“I didn’t realise you actually taught here. I thought maybe you’d just show up for a bit.” She begins, then pauses awkwardly, realising that had come out rather more bluntly than she’d meant. “Sorry, that sounded rude.”

Elvis tilts his head to the side and frowns slightly, looking at her. “You ain’t from around here, are ya honey?”

“No. British. Well, Welsh to be exact.”

“Oh. Wales.” He’s tempted to make a Wales/whales joke, but the older he gets the more he tries to stay away from dad jokes. He figures they don’t help his image.

“Yes. Not the big sea mammals, the little country.”

Elvis grins. She almost made his dad joke for him. “And what brings ya to Memphis, little Welsh girl?”

Tegan laughs a little and looks down. “I’m not really a girl or that little either. But I came for work, I guess.”

“You’ve not been here long if ya don’t know little girl is just what us guys call women sometimes. Like callin’ ya honey or baby. Jus’ a southern thing.”

She nods. “Yeah I got that. It just sounds weird to me. I’m almost 40.”

Elvis raises both eyebrows skywards. “Y’are? Ya don’t look a day over 25, honey.”

“Well, thanks. I think that must be flattery though, Mr Presley.” She smirks a little, and is gratified to get a flirtatious smile back. He’s a little too easy to flirt with and she can feel herself about to get carried away.

Elvis opens his mouth to respond, then sees Maria on her way back. He hums instead, standing up and taking a drink of water. Tegan looks up at him, wondering what he was going to say, and if it really would’ve been so bad to say it in front of her friend. Then he tells them both it’s time for some punches and she stops wondering.

The women are exhausted when the lesson finishes. Neither of them can remember being this tired after a session before, though they are both pretty much beginners so they haven’t been to many.

“I’m going to say bye to Elvis,” Tegan tells her friend.

The other woman raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. They’ve been close for a long time and Maria knows when the other woman is interested in someone. Though she’s surprised that it’s someone that much older, she’s glad that Tegan is interested in guys again, after the divorce. And the concept of her friend dating Elvis Presley is more than a little exciting.

“I’ll see you in the car,” Maria tells her.

Tegan feels a bit silly going to say bye to Elvis, she could see that little look on Maria’s face that suggested she thought she was being daft. But she can’t help it. She feels like he’s drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

“Are you here next week too?”

Elvis looks up from where he’s been rearranging the pads, ready for the next lesson.

“Yeah I’m back in Memphis for a while now, so I’ll be checking in. I hope you’re gonna be keeping up your practice?”

Tegan nods. “We’ll be back next week.”

“Good. See you then.”

Elvis smiles broadly and holds eye contact for a little longer than strictly necessary. She smiles back, and then gives him a little wave and walks out to the car, wondering about what he’d just said. Does he just mean he hopes she’s going to carry on doing karate? Or does he mean he hopes he’ll see her again? He only mentioned her, not Maria, so maybe that means something. Or maybe as usual she’s reading too much into it. She sighs and opens the car door. She’ll just have to go back next week and see what happens.

***

Tegan is a little disappointed when they don’t get any one on one time with Elvis at the next session and one of the more experienced black belts takes them through their paces instead. She sees him wandering about on the sidelines, coming over once or twice to give pointers but otherwise not that involved. He’s perfectly friendly, and when he smiles that lop-sided grin of his she feels her stomach flip-flop. But he doesn’t seem interested. She tries to stop wondering about his motives and concentrate on karate instead. That’s what she came here to do, after all.

“Taking it easy this week?” She asks him, as she puts her shoes back on at the end of the lesson.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Whaddya mean?”

“Well, last week you were pretty hands on, teaching and everything,” she looks up at him as he stands there with one hand on his hip. “This week you’re just floating about. Taking it easy.” A teasing smile plays around her lips and Elvis finds himself smiling a little too.

“I just don’t wanna overwhelm ya,” he replies. “I know how hard it must be for ya to hold that pad whilst I kick it. Bet yer arms were sore after last week.”

Tegan stands up, pulling her jacket on and grinning broadly now. “Oh I see. You’re saving my poor little girl arms.”

Elvis throws back his head and laughs at her almost pitch-perfect impression of the way he says “little girl”. He hadn’t been expecting that at all and he likes it.

“I’m sorry. Ya did tell me ya weren’t little or a girl.” He waggles his eyebrows a little. “I promise not ta pull my punches next week.”

Tegan flicks her hair out from underneath her jacket. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that.” She pauses, caught in another moment of staring into his eyes. Then she remembers where she is and shakes her head slightly. “See you next week!”

***

As the weeks go on, Elvis spends a little more time tutoring the two women and a lot more time having flirtatious conversations with Tegan at the end of the class. He finds himself looking forward to talking to her, in a way he can’t remember looking forward to talking to anyone, really, for a long time. But especially a woman. Everything seems to be business nowadays, but interacting with her is like a secret little dose of fun. He feels somehow lighter after it, as if everything is slightly better. Finds himself singing around the house more often, taking time to play the piano. Doing more and more of the little things that bring him joy. He has to remind himself that nothing can come of it, though. After what happened with Stella, Tegan can only be a flirtation.

They’re sitting together at the end of the second class, which Elvis had somehow persuaded her to stay for, talking about the relative merits of British and American cuisine. Something about the sheer exhaustion and being so close to him in the empty hall makes her decide to do something a bit bold. She likes flirting with him but she kind of wants to know where she stands. It seems a bit crazy to be thinking of asking someone so world-famous out, but he doesn’t seem that intimidating, next to her on the bench. He just seems like a guy she’s been spending a bit of time with and maybe they might see where it goes.

“Listen, why don’t I cook for you, sometime?”

They’d been laughing together about some silly thing or other, but the question makes Elvis freeze. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen.

“I’ve got a cook at home, honey.”

Tegan almost winces. That wasn’t a kind rejection.

“Ah okay. Well…” she trails off, pushing her feet into her shoes. “Never mind then.” Standing up as she pulls her hoodie on over her head. “See you next week.”

“I-I-I-I’ll be here next week,” he stammers, suddenly regretting the way he said no and wishing he could rewind the past couple of minutes. Tegan’s tone is cold and her whole demeanour has changed. He’s really fucked this up.

“Okay. Cool. See you.”

Elvis watches her leave, feeling completely paralysed. He can’t chase after her. What would he say? No, sorry, I can’t date you, but please keep coming here and flirting with me. He groans, his head in his hands. The one little bit of fun he had in his life and he’s gone and messed it up. He could’ve thought of a way of letting her down more gently. Why did that have to come out sounding so blunt? Younger Elvis would’ve chased after her, would’ve sent flowers, got on his knees and apologised. He sighs again. Who is he kidding? Younger Elvis wouldn’t have got into this mess in the first place, he’d have said yes to dinner a thousand times over. But he’s old Elvis now, and old Elvis just says no.

***

Tegan cries a little on the drive home. She doesn’t mean to, but it comes out anyway. She hadn’t thought she was even that invested in what had been going on between them, but apparently she is. She calls Maria when she gets in.

“I just said I should come and cook for him some time.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he had a cook.” Tegan slaps her hand across her forehead. “I’ve never been so humiliated, Mar. I thought there was something going on there but I was obviously wrong.”

“Ooof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Seems weird to me, though. He’s always flirting with you. It’s not insane for you to think that might mean he’d want to spend more time with you.”

Tegan sighs. “Oh well. Shouldn’t have tried.”

Maria tries to spend the rest of the call comforting her friend and reassuring her that the signs were all there, and she certainly should have tried, but she feels she’s onto a bit of a losing game. Once Tegan goes down this kind of road about how other people aren’t to be trusted and most of the time you’re better off on your own, it’s hard to divert her. The best she can do right now is be a good listener. Still. She has to wonder why Elvis would be so flirtatious and then completely shut down at the mention of a well-cooked meal, though.

***

“Daddy! Dad! Elvis!” Lisa yells from the carpark as loudly as she can.

Elvis huffs and walks to the doorway. “Yisa. What?”

“Where do you want these? And how many?” She holds up an armful of pads from the boot of the car.

“All of them, and in here.”

Lisa-Marie is back home from touring for a while and she always likes to help out with karate when she’s in Memphis. Elvis is on the fence about whether he likes her helping. As he’s got older he’s got quieter, mellowed he supposes is how you’d describe it, but the same can’t be said of his daughter. She is still rambunctious, and sometimes he thinks more chaotic than helpful. But he loves her, and it’s always good to see her, so… he rubs his forehead with his fingertips. On balance, he does want her here, helping. He supposes.

Lisa continues to bring armfuls of pads into the hall, throwing them about the place in no particular order. Elvis tuts and shakes his head, picking them up and arranging them properly. He’s a little worried about this class. He doesn’t know how Tegan will be with him, after their conversation. Maybe he should apologise. But he still doesn’t want to give her the wrong idea. He stands on the other side of the room as people walk in and avoids eye contact with all of them, but he still sees Tegan arrive. Almost feels her, first. His guts roll about uncomfortably and he can feel himself blushing. He coughs and finds some arm guards to fiddle about with to occupy his hands.

Lisa has been cheerfully introducing herself to everyone and then gets them all in lines so she can lead the warm up. Unlike her dad, she wants to get involved with teaching all the time, and he has to admit she is pretty good at it. It’s a good outlet for all of her energy and it keeps her attention in a way not many other things do. She divides the class up and finds a black belt to teach each individual group, keeping one for herself. Elvis circles about, trying to seem like he’s keeping an eye on everything, but really he’s just trying not to keep his eye on Tegan. She’s never looking when he chances a glance at her, and he starts to wonder if she’ll ever talk to him again. When they break for water he’s surprised that she actually makes a bee-line for him. Standing next to him with her back against the wall she clears her throat a little awkwardly and then begins to talk.

“Sorry I…er… made things uncomfortable by asking you out.”

Elvis takes a quick swig of water in the hopes of distracting her from the face he just pulled at her words. He feels awful that she's the one apologising to him. But he also cringes at the way she referred to their conversation. Her asking him out. He still can’t get used to women nowadays. So outspoken and apparently so comfortable being the one asking. Surely the men should do the asking? It all used to be a lot simpler.

“No, honey, d-don’t you apologise. I was a rude sonofabitch.” He screws his face up, wondering whether he should have cursed. Once again his mouth is running away with him.

Tegan smiles. “Yeah, well. There are more gentle ways of letting people down, you know.”

“I-I-I-I know, honey. An’ I’m sorry. I really am. Will ya forgive me?” He can’t help it, turning and giving her puppy dog eyes and making her laugh and blush.

“I guess so. Just this once.”

They carry on chatting about nothing, but Lisa can’t help noticing the way they’re looking at each other. The way her dad hasn’t looked at another woman since Stella. She manages to restrain her usual urge to bound over there and discuss it right away, resolving to talk to him after the class instead. But he’s not going to get away without doing anything. She likes seeing him looking so happy for a change.

Tegan finds herself falling back into the easy, flirty, friendly way of being with Elvis. Much as she’d given herself pep talks about giving him the cold shoulder, told Maria she wasn’t interested anymore, thought that she really deserved better… as soon as she saw him she knew she wouldn’t be able to stick to any of it. He looked so much like a little boy lost, if a sixty-something man can even resemble a little boy. She’d looked over at him when she walked into the hall and he just stared at the floor. And then she felt that magnetic pull again when they stopped for a break and she just gave up. She likes the feeling of giving up and giving in to him, though maybe she shouldn’t.

He even persuades her to stay for the second class too and afterwards teases her about sounding like the Queen.

“I do not! I sound nothing like the Queen! The Queen is posh!” She protests, shoving him lightly.

“I sound nothing like the Queen!” Elvis responds in a half-decent impression of her accent.

They both giggle and their faces get closer together, as if they’re sharing some kind of secret. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too. Queenie.”

Tegan shoves him again, a little harder, and then they both burst into peals of laughter. She grabs his arm, unable to stop laughing, and then realises she desperately needs to pee.

“I’ve gotta run to the loo.”

“To the what now?”

“Oh, the restroom. You know. I need to pee.”

“Oh.”

Elvis carries on laughing a little as he watches her walk away. She’s so cute. And she makes him laugh. He hasn’t laughed this much in a long time.

Lisa sees her opportunity and comes to sit down on his other side.

“She seems nice.”

He sighs and looks over at his daughter, rolling his eyes. She’s always trying to interfere in his love life, having some of his previous endless enthusiasm for relationships. No matter how many of hers fail, her faith in love remains.

“She’s more than twenty years younger than me, Yis. And we know how that worked out the last time.”

“You can’t just stay a lonely old spinster forever.”

“No, eventually I’ll die.”

It’s Lisa’s turn to elbow Elvis playfully in the side as she laughs. “Stop that. Why don’t you ask her to that barbecue you were planning this weekend? It would do you good to have a little fun for a change.”

He shakes his head. “No, I can’t do that Lis, I…uh…” he trails off, wondering how to explain the horribly embarrassing exchange to his daughter in a way that won’t lead to her telling him off.

“Well if you don’t do it, I’ll do it for you.”

“No. You definitely can’t do that, you can’t…” he’s cut off by Tegan’s return, abandoning his sentence in favour of smiling at her as she makes her way towards him.

Tegan smiles back, enjoying basking in his attention and barely noticing his daughter.

Lisa stands up. “Dad wants to ask you something.”

“He does?” Tegan briefly breaks eye contact to look at Lisa, and she’s still smiling until she looks back and finds Elvis looking at his feet as he shuffles them around. The smile falls from her face.

Elvis frowns at the floor. Now his damn impetuous daughter has put him in an impossible position. He can’t upset Tegan again, not when they’ve just made up. But he can’t invite her round either. There’s no good way out of this that he can think of, so he just sits there and hopes for the earth to open up and swallow him instead. The silence stretches out until Lisa gets fed up and breaks it.

“He’s too shy to ask you himself. We’re having a barbeque on Saturday up at the house, it’d be great if you came.”

“At Graceland?” Tegan is stunned.

“Yeah, at Graceland. Are you free? There’s a pool and it’s probably gonna be another hot one, so bring your swimsuit.”

Tegan stares at Lisa. She has the same disarming charm as her father, and it’s very hard to work out how to say no to her. But she knows Elvis can’t want this. He already said he wasn’t interested. Even if he did just spend the past ten minutes flirting outrageously with her. Eventually she manages to break eye contact with the other woman to look back at Elvis, who is still thoroughly examining his own shoes.

“You okay with this, Elvis?”

He grunts his assent, still not looking up. Still desperately hoping for a very accurate meteorite strike or something.

“I might need a bit more enthusiasm than that,” she continues, feeling herself move from giddy and cheerful a few minutes ago to a little irritated now. “I’d have to change my plans.” That was a lie, but she doesn’t care. She’s starting to feel messed around.

Elvis sighs, then forces himself to look up again. “I’d love you to come to Graceland this weekend, Tegan.” She starts to smile, but it freezes on her face as he continues, “it would be nice to spend some time together, as friends.”

As friends. The words echo in her head.

“Okay, great. See you there.” She feigns cheerfulness, putting her shoes and jacket on quickly. “Thanks for a good class.”

“Any time after three!” Lisa calls after her, as she leaves.

“Great!” She calls back, without enthusiasm.

Getting into the car, she flops back against the seat, screwing her eyes shut in frustration. She knows she asked him out and he said no, and she knows being friends is better than nothing. Being friends is a lot better than nothing, she loves spending time with him whether anything else happens or not. But she can’t help but feel crushed, again, for the second time in a week.

Maybe he’s just a naturally flirtatious guy, she thinks. That’s probably it. I’ve just read it wrong, thinking he’s into me. Why on earth would Elvis Presley be into a 39 year old woman who’s soft around the middle and has more grey hair than brown? She sits up and starts the engine. No matter how she rationalises it, she’s still upset. And she still agreed to go to Graceland at the weekend. Maria will be getting another phone call as soon as she gets home.

***

Part 2

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #bde #big daddy #old man elvis

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couch-potato28 · 7 days ago

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Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

VERSION III.

(a/n: Hey hey hey, back with another, I hope u enjoy it and thank you for the support! ❤️)

WARNING!-none

wc: 1.2k words :)

ALSO: IMPORTANT QUESTION-do u guys prefer the long headcanons or should I shorten them for easier reading?

tags: @ttheggrimrreaper ❤️

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…8, Bachira Meguru."

The moment Ego assigned you to your player, one of the doors automatically opened, signaling you to go in. Quickly memorising the boy’s name and jersey number, you headed towards the door that led to a small hallway before following the arrows on the floor. Reaching the MANAGER room, Anri handed you a small booklet along with your new uniform, and after a quick conversation, she then instructed you to go and find your new partner.

“I hope he’s not an asshole…”-you muttered, slowly walking to the green soccer field.

Imagine being Bachira Meguru’s manager, otherwise known as the ‘monster’.

——————

Bachira Meguru was easy to find, his two-tone hair clearly visible from the benches and the way he dribbled the ball was nothing but impressive. His movements were light, yet fast and attention-grabbing, like those of a bee. You watched him play on the field from a distance, patiently waiting for training to finish and be able to go and introduce yourself to him. About half an hour later, the boys finally got a break, and grabbing the opportunity you went over to the player. To your relief, he greeted you with a big smile, and after an awkward introduction and multiple handshakes, he immediately started talking to you as if you had known each other for years.

——————

Bachira, with whom you quickly form a close friendship during the first few days by his side as a manager. He talks with you all day long about all sorts of different things and his throat never seems to hurt, nor does his voice sound tired or hoarse. Your ears and head do ache a little, but for the sake of this newfound bond, you just suck it up and silently enjoy listening to him go into great detail about every single minute of his life since birth.

Some of the stories he tells you are quite heartbreaking, like how lonely his childhood was, or how he was always ostracized and called ugly names by other kids. However his first friend, ’monster’ as the boy would call it was always by his side and made the loneliness much more durable. Did you think he was kinda nuts at first? Yeah, totally but after hearing his backstory, the whole monster thing made a lot more sense now.

On the positive side though, this man also tells you everything you need to know about him, from his foot size to the kind of toothpaste he uses. His mother is often a topic as well, an amazing woman and an angel sent from Heaven as he refers to her.

Bachira, who's on good terms with almost everyone on his team, somehow manages to build a close enough bond between them that he is able to stand completely naked in front of everyone after matches. You didn't learn about this habit of his until the day when the door to his shared room with Isagi suddenly burst open after a match and a butt-naked Bachira entered, flashing every inch of his body to the world. You were there, waiting to surprise him with some snacks, but the experience made you too traumatised to even go near their room ever again.

That’s one of his many strange habits other than talking to his monster. However, your biggest problem was waking up this boy before 7 am. The alarm clock could ring for 10 minutes straight right next to his ear, and he would still be able to sleep through it, making him arrive late to almost every practice.

Scolding him doesn’t work though, since he’s too unbothered and loud to even register what you say to him most of the time, leaving you to mumble some curses to yourself before dragging him to the fields.

——————

After the U20 match...

Bachira doesn't change that much. Yes, he trains harder, and his playing style also changes or rather develops, but his smile is still just as bright as the day you first met. Seeing him being able to play freely on the field and the way he seems to have fun with his new teammates makes you happy and reassured too, although Team Z still crosses his mind from time to time.

He’s especially close to his fellow teammate, Otoya Eita who you try to ignore anytime he comes within a 3-meter radius. His new coach, Lavinho is great though, kind of like a fun uncle or dad to the boys so you’re glad he chose FC Barcha.

You never mention this to Bachira, but he notices the way Otoya tries to flirt with you, his dear manager who’s clearly uncomfortable with his antics, so without hesitation, Bachira lies to the white-haired that you two have been going out for a while now, making the latter back down.

However, you only notice this the next day, when the ninja says sorry to you as he moves on and goes to hunt for other cute managers near him.

"What's wrong with Otoya?"-you ask, turning to Bachira, who’s tying his shoes laces.

“I told him we are a couple because I was afraid he would take you away from me!”-he says with a small smile, stepping onto the court, ready for practice. Turning around one last time before the whistle blows, he shouts to you enthusiastically:

“Keep your eyes on me, honey!”

Bachira, who after his messy but successful attempt at making you his fake girlfriend, randomly starts complimenting and flirting with you on a daily basis. His usual chaotic, loud, and funny persona suddenly changes into this teasing machine and the way he starts to cling to you is borderline insane.

You, now trying to ignore Bachira’s flirting without getting distracted is hard, making focusing on work a pain in the ass since this time you can’t even avoid the guy. Not that you try so hard since the chocolates and snacks from his fans that he shares with you are delicious and hard to resist.

“Look Y/N, how many things I got! Let's first read the letters and…”-his eyes sparkle as he shows you the things one by one, grateful for receiving so many encouraging words and gifts. The personal hand-written letters also work like a charm at making him do better during training so you’re grateful for his fans as well.

Bachira, who you always have fun with during Spanish tutoring because he basically laughs half the time during the lessons and the remaining time for actual studying usually turns into him telling jokes while folding and flying paper planes during your explainations. His overall knowledge consists of 3 different ways to say hello in Spanish and that’s about it.

He knows he’s chaotic and hard to deal with and he definitely feels sorry for you at times, but over the weeks, he has grown very fond of you and honestly, he couldn't imagine having another manager besides you.

Bachira is mesmerized, from your personality to your laugh, everything about you is so perfect in his eyes. You’re like a beautiful flower and he’s the bee that you manage to attract to yourself every single time.

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x manager au #blue lock u20 #blue lock x you #blue lock bachira #bachira meguru #meguru bachira #bachira x reader #bllk isagi #bllk otoya #bllk lavinho #bachira meguru x reader #meguru x reader #fc barcha #bllk bachira

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callabang · 9 days ago

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jet lag: the game: the rpf primer

so you've just encountered jet lag: the game. maybe this is because you read an insane poly bdsm fic that i wrote and now you want to know about who those guys are. maybe you're ABOUT to read an insane poly bdsm fic that i wrote. maybe you're normal. etc.

what is jet lag the game?

jet lag the game is a travel game show where they use various forms of transit and real-life locations as game mechanics. also curses/challenges/etc. it's not important. essentially they have taken all the parts of travel that are bad and chosen to JUST do those. a lot of times this involves hunting each other for sport. one part travel show one part game show one part chaos. if you want to watch this show, which i recommend, may i suggest:

starting with the new zealand season which rocks my socks and has in my opinion the best guest (toby!!!!!!!!!! a woman), or

viewing the most recent hide and seek season set in japan which is very cute and fun

i am happy to answer more questions about jet lag the game the show / nebula / the layover podcast etc. BUT THIS ISN'T REALLY ABOUT THAT and also i started watching it like two weeks ago so honestly ask maria @killjoys-makesomenoise

let's get weird.

the main boys involved in this show are SAM DENBY, ADAM CHASE, AND BEN DOYLE. they created this show together and are always contestants in each season, sometimes with a guest. there is something sooooo wrong with them for doing this game show

to be clear me and the co-author of this primer maria @killjoys-makesomenoise do not actually know that much about these people and make no claims to biographical accuracy or even a basic understanding of their careers and interests outside of this show. this primer is a collection of curated vibes in support of our fanfiction and nothing else

sam denby

born and raised on youtube. he likes logistics. like in a really serious way he likes logistics. he has a spreadsheet brain full of transit schedules and LOVES! planes and trains and automobiles. he used to have the world's most potent baby face but then he moved to colorado and got into THE OUTDOORS and skiis and runs ultramarathons and so now he's like 6 foot 2 and sleek and muscled etc.

he is extremely blond with long hair that could look good if he did a curly girl routine which he never will. he has like three outfits which are mostly athletic clothes and tshirts and he does pattern mixing but NOT on purpose. he loves to wear a hat and sunglasses and make no expressions and be IN his phone.

he is everyone's boss at jet lag and extremely rigidly ethical and his personal life is a locked box inside a deep dungeon. he's very competitive and strategic and competent but also has really bad luck. he has terrible hand eye coordinate. he's my favorite personally and i want to study him like a bug.

here's a reddit comment that captures some of what he's got going:

Sure, it's logically possible that someone out there could have a generally-less-expressive-than-average voice/face, be obsessed with airline scheduling and high-end car statistics (and jump on any opportunity to list them), react to experiences like fairground rides and bungee jumping in a way that regularly makes people around him go "you're a psychopath", find riddles that require non-literal thinking so hard he thinks they're "not good riddles", seemingly regularly and genuinely forget that other people don't have his specific kind of spreadsheet brain, and thrive on metrics/grind-based sports while lacking overall hand-eye coordination, without being on the autism spectum... but realistically, autism is the easiest way to explain a lot of these things co-occurring, isn't it?

adam chase

he's been a writer for sam's other youtube channels for years and was brought in front of the camera bc sam needed someone to play his insane little games with. he's a sweetie with a squeaky little voice and also he's extremely competitive and i truly believe his resting heart is 120 bpm. he's AGITATED and overprepared. he cares so deeply about every single second of the game whether he's winning or not and also about the game design/planning/production. he has been described as a caretaker and someone who would "be a good dad." he's also not a sore loser at all and is very compassionate! sweetheart.

surprisingly hard to find a good evocative solo pic of adam. here he is with sam in a typical sam outfit and in matching tie-dye with ben. he's so skinny and fast and importantly he's a fucking nerd. also he constantly vocally stims by bursting into song.

benjamin doyle

formerly an intern for sam's other youtube channels, ben was comedy writer friends with adam which is how he got involved in this mess. babygirl and he knows it. online in a tumblr way somehow and also has apparently perused fanfiction of himself and his coworkers. lock ya fics !!!!!!!

he's an indoor cat in a major way and suffers so much physically from competing in what is objectively a very physical show and yet he also is one of the game designers so that's his fault. he's the only one with a sense of style and he dresses like a cartoon character. he's surprisingly droll and lackadaisical and adam and sam thinks he's soooo funny. he loves a gambit and a scheme and enjoys a plan that is 50% vibes. he's little and short and has the biggest most limpid blue eyes of the three of them who all have blue eyes so that's saying something.

here's a redacted-for-spoilers youtube comment about his relationship with adam who he's usually paired up with for team challenges:

The trust that Ben has in Adam!! When he agreed to let Adam make that last wager I thought I was gonna be sick. It must take a lot of self-regulation skill to just stay chill and supportive and crack jokes while witnessing your teammate like, harness the power of childhood [redacted] trauma and in order to dissociate into a [redacted]. Adam is obviously a powerhouse but Ben is an unsung hero, just an absolute rock.

he's probably the only one who ever has a healthy emotional state while they are playing. AND SOMETIMES HE FREAKS OUT and that's great too.

the dynamics.

the main ship is ben/adam but this is OUR PRIMER so we're talking about ben/adam/sam which is the ship that compels us most.

first of all given the format of the show sam by definition haunts the narrative and is the narrator. also ben and adam live in NYC and sam lives in colorado and i think we can all have fun with that bc it shows that sam is a wild private recluse but also he talks to them every single day at work and is obsessed with them.

anyway the premise of the show mandates deep trust in each other and also, again: they all have to have the same thing wrong with them. WHICH THEY DO!

they put themselves in their own little rat race and then film themselves and edit it for us to consume and then debrief and analyze the rat race on their podcast. it's CRAZY. they are always making game plans based on deep psychoanalysis of each other's habits and preferences. they have such deep intimate knowledge of each other that they play against an imaginary version of each other and GET IT CORRECT.

three neurodivergent people have never thought about each other more. they care about each other but also they love tormenting each other. they're all sadists but none of them are masochists so they have to take turns. and what they DON'T know is that we can link any casual work-related commentary into an extensive mental lore of their insane light-bdsm long distance polycule. so translate that into some smut and let's go go go !!!

#me and maria wrote this in 1.5 frenzied hours #deeply grateful for and inspired by: all the people that read my fic with zero background info on what the fuck i'm talking about #here's some background info!!!#my fic #not putting this in the official tag lmao. this is for LINKING TO #primer

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lowtaperfeyd · 10 months ago

Note

Jessica and atreides!reader angst? (Mother and daughter angst then yn slowly turns into evil which jessica slowly realise the pattern was repeating)

Metamorphosis

Lady Jessica x Daughter!reader

(Not beta read, we die like Feyd-Rautha)

author's note: If you guys can't tell I really like writing angst. This is also the longest thing I've written so far :). Also trying a new formatting type.

warnings: mentions of death, mommy issues, mentions of blood, mentions of Paul after drinking the water of life

wc: 1145

Lady Jessica did her job halfway right. To ensure she completed her Bene Gesserit mission, gave birth to twins. A boy named Paul and a girl named (Y/N). While the loophole was clever, the Bene Gesserit could not use the daughter she had given birth to. They said she had tainted her womb while bearing a son.

Her father, the Duke Leto Atreides, was the only one who actually taught her important things. When she was little she would sit in a stool pulled up near her fathers desk and watch him go through paperwork and meeting notes. While he trained his son to become duke, he trained his daughter what to do in case something happened to Paul. He didn’t brush her off.

Lady Jessica focused most of her time on Paul. His training, his skills, and his talent. While (Y/N) was taught how to use the Bene Gesserit ways by other members and not her mother. While those tutors did their job well, and she was learning quite a lot, (Y/N) found that her brother, a male, was progressing much faster than her. She was proud of her brother. It wasn’t her brother’s fault, it was her mother’s.

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

A younger (Y/N) and Paul sat on the damp grass on Caladan on a breezy afternoon. They watched the sun lower into the sky and begin to graze where the horizon met the sea. (Y/N) took small daisies from the ground and started to make a flower crown out of them.

“You know Paul, if you continue to improve at this rate I wouldn’t be surprised if you were better than our mother.” (Y/N) praised as she continued to pick and tie other flowers together.

“No, no, no,” her brother replied modestly, “what she is teaching me is all of what she knows. Sooner or later I’ll plateau.”

“You never know,” (Y/N) chuckled, cheekily, “Maybe one day she’ll go to you for advice.”

When (Y/N) finished the thin crown, she placed it onto Paul's head.

“There,” she said, “I now dubbed thy, Duke Paul Atreides of Caladan. Who will be an excellent and fair ruler.”

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

The only thing that (Y/N) had against Paul, was that her ability to use the voice was much better than his. Paul sounded like a dying horse and (Y/N) could command hundreds of people with her voice. (Y/N) found incredible joy from this. But this fact scared Lady Jessica.

Lady Jessica was afraid of the power her daughter held. She knew of her hatred against her brother who took most of the time spent learning. Of course this all wouldn’t matter when the Duke died and they lived in the desert with the Fremen. Until Paul had a war forged in his name and (Y/N) had nothing but her brain.

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

(Y/N) was standing in front of the giant pool of water, watching her reflection rippled and ebbed. As she stood there, she imagined a war that was fought in her name instead of Paul’s. Tons of water, from people who died while waiting for the ‘Lisan Al-Giab’ If this was my war, no one would die. She thought. After a couple of minutes a Fremen woman came by and poured the water of another warrior. If my mother and her witches hadn’t meddled, we wouldn’t have this mess. She stood there for hours, hours past when the sun went down, pondering her existence and her brother’s willingness to say he was the messiah.

“Are you going to keep looking at your reflection or are you coming to bed?” She heard her mother say.

“Does it matter if I stay up late? I’ve nothing to do on Arrakis.” (Y/N) responded, sounding completely uninterested in talking to her mother.

“It does matter, you need sleep in order to thrive.” Lady Jessica declared.

“Don’t try acting like you care now,” her daughter bit back, coldly, “don’t try acting like a caring mother. Go spread more rumors about Paul.” she sighed out.

“They aren’t rumors, (Y/N),” She retorted, “It’s what he’s going to do. You and everyone else here realizes who he is and his potential. You need to help Paul.”

(Y/N) bundled her hands into fists at her sides. Her knuckles popped at how hard she was squeezing them. Your son has changed far beyond what was expected. she thought, you barely recognize him anymore.

“Would me dying for your cause be sufficient?” (Y/N) uttered under her breath as she continued to look at her reflection, “Should I stand out there and be a martyr? The loving sister of the Kwisatz Haderach…”

Lady Jessica breathed in sharply and said nothing in return. She took her hands and put them over her stomach where her other child was.

(Y/N) turned around to look at her mother, “You agree don’t you?’ she assumed.

Still, the Lady said nothing and just looked at her daughter. She met her daughter's eyes. The blue within blue encased her small pupils and her skin looking paler and deeper set than when they had left Arrakis.

“Why aren’t you speaking?” Her daughter whispered, “Tell me what you think!”

“I think you as a martyr would do as much damage as if you were alive,” She voiced, “your death would be mourned. But, it would not change anything.”

The sudden use of the voice surprised and startled Lady Jessica, “You imbecile, you using the Voice on your own mother.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when Paul used it on your old reverend mother,” (Y/N) stated, “Paul and I did the same thing, use the Voice on a reverend mother.”

“You used it on your mother. Paul seized the moment so he could speak.”

“You were never a mother.” (Y/N) asserted, “you were a housemate, an incubator

at best.”

This stunned the reverend mother. She had never heard her daughter speak so unrighteously and sternly. It was almost like she had never really known her. The (Y/N) she knew, the sweet girl who collected wildflowers that had grown on the cliff sides, had died when they landed on Arrakis and was replaced by someone cold and quiet.

“I’ll help my brother.” (Y/N) expressed as she moved closer to her mother, “I’ll do as he says. No matter how much you go against it. It doesn’t matter if he asks me to burn temples or castles, or even destroy planets. As long as I don’t have to follow you.”

As she concluded her announcement, she turned to hastily walk out of the dark, humid cavern.

Leaving Lady Jessica on her own; to see what had become of her daughter who would burn down the world if given the chance and her son who slipped unnecessary blood in the name of war.

#dune #dune pt 2 #dune x reader #jessica atreides #lady jessica x reader #house atreides #lady jessica #daughter!reader

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visforvengeance · 10 months ago

Text

Downright Iconic

Requested by: No One :)

Notes: helllllo! ok so i lovelovelove rafe and i've been seeing you guys do like a southern gothic type thing so I wanted to try as a southern (Georgia and texas) woman myself. so let me just say I am an atheist that grew up with a highly Christian family. I became an atheist when I was like 14 so idk too many bible verses and I'm sorry if anything is in accurate. I'm just sacrilegious af, like this story oh man. ok this is very much xblack reader based so idk read it or don't. this is heavily HEAVILY ethel cain coded, specifically gibson girl and western nights. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Pairing: rafe cameron x black!southern reader

Warnings: oh man there's so many warnings omg ok. dacryphilia. hinted somnophilia, sexual religious themes, unprotected sex, graphic graphic graphic, degradation (slut, whore, etc), actual slut shaming, I was high while writing most of this and it went berserk. um it's 4k words of porn without plot. i didn't proofread. I don't remember all of the warnings so please read at your own risk!

You sat in the front row of your church, along with your family and others who were important to society. There was your family, the Pastor’s family, the Camerons (Ward Cameron is the mayor of your quaint little town). The Thorntons and the Carreras. Your father’s voice boomed throughout the small church as he recited Proverbs 3:5-6. Kiara’s father had asked him to speak on keeping up your faith after he learned of his daughter’s betrayal.

She was caught dillydallying with that little blonde boy from the more southern parts of town. Her reputation took quite a hit when everyone found out. It nearly cost her family their business, if it weren’t for the closeness they shared with the Camerons, they’d have faced total ruin.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you looked over at your friend. She kept her head down and her hands in her lap while the grip her father held on her wrist visibly tightened. You wanted to go and comfort her, but you knew your mother would disapprove. When she found out about the news, she banned you from ever even looking at Kiara again. Which was hard because she was your greatest friend. Despite your mother’s wishes, you still hung around her. You were her rock whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, you defended her from those who called her foul names and turned on her.

Your eyes trailed over to the Cameron family. They all sat in their crisp and brightly colored Sunday’s best. Your eyes looked over the eldest child in the family, Rafe. He was a wild child, a true force to be reckoned with. Star athlete at your university, the town’s sweetheart. The boy your mama would be proud to call her son-in-law. The golden child. There was no better American teen than Rafe Cameron. Until the sun goes down and he’s the devil that lurks in the streets.

Rafe was a notorious party animal. He’s single-handedly why your town has a curfew in the first place. Despite his daddy being the mayor and constantly under public scrutiny, everyone under the age of 27 knew what Rafe Cameron got into. The parties, the drugs and alcohol, premarital sex, he did all of it.

The two eldest Cameron children were very sneaky. Sarah, who was more like her brother than she’d like to admit, was just as wild. For starters, she was dating one of those pogues. There’s nothing worse than dating a pogue around these parts. She claimed that they were in love and planned on leaving when they got the chance. You’d just nod and pet her hair, bless her heart. You weren’t a fan of slutshaming but if you looked up the very definition of a slut, there’d be a picture of Sarah sitting prettily. You didn’t know how the purity necklace Ward had gotten her hadn’t broken and melted to the ground from her sinful ways. But, you loved her nonetheless.

Since you were 13 and could no longer control the urges that came with being a growing girl, there had always been something about Rafe. You had a crush on the older boy for years. You didn’t partake in things like masturbation, but on days where you nearly gave in, thoughts of Rafe ran across your mind. His toned body hovered above yours while his breath fanned over your features. He was between your legs, grinding against you so slowly that you felt everything he had to offer.

Mama and daddy hadn’t taught you about sex yet. They always said that it was something you’d learn about when the time came. So, you didn’t know how vaginas and penises worked and how babies were made or why sometimes when you were alone, if you thought for too long then your breathing would become heavier and there’s this feeling in your stomach. And, you can’t keep your legs from rubbing together and you’re so hot, god (you’ll repent later), you could die. This unknown feeling gets so intense, but you’re so scared. So, you stop. You say your prayers and go to bed. You don’t tell anyone about these moments of little death.

Rafe was always indifferent towards you until you turned 16 and your body developed more. And, you were no longer just his annoying little sister’s best friend. Fuck, you were so much more. Your tits practically burst out of your sports bra when he sees you practicing for cheerleading. 17 and your ass was looking too good in your jeans. 18 and the sway of your hips had him on his knees.

He fucked countless girls dreaming that they were you instead. He just knows your virgin pussy would have him going crazy. He knew about your crush on him from one of the times you were talking to Kie while Sarah was out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish you were in his arms too. But, something in him was holding him back. He never knew what and didn’t bother to try and figure it out. He wasn’t going to for a good long while.

When you looked over at Rafe to discover he was already looking at you, your eyes widened and you immediately looked back at your father. Rafe felt his smirk grow. He spent his days in church daydreaming about bending you over and fucking you right in front of everyone and Jesus Christ himself. He laughed when he thought about the times he didn’t burst into flames.

He tuned out the preaching as he imagined what your tits would like while he drenched your top in the holy water before him. He imagined it was you saying those prayers while you’re stupid crying on his cock, a girl like you should be praying to the correct god. Rafe wanted you so badly. He decided that he was done wasting time. He’d marry you and make you his pretty little housewife if he had to. He had to stop before the very thought of you being pregnant and swollen with his baby made him cum in his pants.

After church, your father allowed you to hang out with Sarah at Tannyhill. The two of you lounged around by the pool while Rafe and his friends did the same on the opposite side. While you lay around, floating in the pool, you watched as Rafe watched you in the pool. The sunglasses helped tremendously at hiding your line of vision and allowed you to watch him without shame. His eyes trailed all over your body like he was in a trance and couldn’t choose where to look first.

You sat yourself up on your elbows, tilting your sunglasses down to look at him. When he realized that you were looking at him, he gave you a small smile and a wink. He watched your doe eyes stare back up at him, your bottom lip being pulled in between your teeth while your eyes trailed down his torso. The heat combined with the brightness of the sun cast a light sheen on Rafe’s body. It was making you clench so deliciously around nothing and had you panting like a bitch in heat.

Rafe chuckled as he inspected your behavior around him, but Sarah’s voice hid it well enough to go unnoticed. “Rafe, let’s have a party,” Sarah suggested. Rafe hardly ever said no to a party. Their parents left a lot so they had parties pretty often. But, you never attended them. Parties weren’t exactly your thing. You’d very much rather stay at home and watch a movie. Or the most adventurous you’d get is trespassing on public park grounds after hours.

“I’m down. You spread the word and I’ll get the goods.” Sarah nodded as she began to gather her things, you began to make your way out of the water. Rafe eyed your backside while water cascaded down the smooth brown skin. He stood mesmerized with his tongue in his cheek as your ass jiggled behind you. His eyes never left your body while you walked inside the house. He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you.

After you and Sarah had settled inside, the two of you chilled inside her room for a bit. “You should come to the party.” Her and Kie always tried to get you to attend one but you always declined their advances. But, Sarah was being very persistent. “Why do you want me to come to your stupid party so bad? I’d feel so out of place. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You tried every excuse you had but Sarah wasn’t budging. “Look. We’re grown-ups now and you can’t just live your life like some virgin loser. You ain’t even had your first kiss yet, darling,” she says as she grabs your face so you’re looking at her.

She was right. You’ve never been more intimate than holding hands. Your parents put the fear of god in you and it’s buried so far down inside of you, that the only way to purify yourself of it is to die. It’s not like boys hadn’t tried, but you’d push them away faster than they could say ‘hallelujah’. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. These kinds of things never worried you before but this crippling fear of missing out has invaded your brain.

You stared up at the pale, peachy-colored ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go,” you mumbled. Sarah began jumping around in excitement, “I still don’t have anything to wear, though. My clothes aren’t very party-like.” You frowned as you thought about your clothing options. They didn’t hug your body or show what you were working with. “Fuck it, we’re going shopping,” Sarah declares as she drags you out of bed.

She convinced you to get this spicy little number that showed off the parts of your body you adored the most. The two of you rushed back to her house so you could get ready. Rafe had already started setting everything up. You were beyond nervous as you’d never done something like this before, definitely never wore anything like this either. Sarah helped you do your makeup, an hour she spent straddling your waist as she focused. You looked like a different person, you didn't even recognize yourself. It was strange. And, your parents would have a stroke if they saw you now.

The house was filled before you knew it. Various stood all over with cups in their hands or they’re making out against the wall, to be honest, you were scared. You’d never seen so much vulgarity. You couldn’t believe you let Sarah talk you into this. Never again would you let it happen. She had the audacity to leave you alone and suck faces with John B. and you were pissed. You stood near the island of the kitchen with a solo cup in your hand. You were drinking the alcohol and it left you with an unrecognizable feeling. But it was a good one. The music calmed you, as did the LED lighting surrounding the place. You welcomed its embrace easier than you thought you would.

You watched over the crowd, continuously drinking as you sat on the counter. It’s been an hour and Sarah still hasn't returned. You feared you looked like a drunken loser. And, you did. Meanwhile, Rafe stood on the other side of the house, directly across from you. His height and your sitting on the counter allowed him to watch you as the hour passed. He battled with whether he should approach you or not. The alcohol in his system lowered his inhibitions and lessened his worries.

He pushed past the intoxicated groups of bodies and reached you. He stood in between your legs while his hands rested on either side of your thighs. Just like in your dream, you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your skin, you basked in it. He invaded your senses. His scent made you woozier along with the alcohol you consumed, he smelled of hints of beer and Bleu de Chanel. His body heat radiated off of him and onto you, engulfing you like a glove. His blue eyes were all that you could see as his half-lidded eyes looked down at you. If you were sober then you’d be questioning how he was able to tempt you like this. You’d do whatever he wanted of you if he asked. And, he liked it that way.

“Hey, baby.” Baby? Did he know who he was talking to? “Hi, Rafe.” He fucking loved the way you said his name, he could feel his cock starting to stir in his pants. “My sister ditch you for that little bitch, John B. huh?” He was sweaty and breathing so heavily. It made you wonder what had him like this. But, you nodded and continued to look into his eyes. “You want me to take you upstairs to keep you company?” His fingers were caressing your thigh at this point. His touch burned you but you liked it. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Yeah,” you whispered to him. He helped you off of the counter and held your hand, pulling you upstairs to his bedroom. He absolutely had no intentions of talking, unless it was to talk you right out of this little dress you were wearing that made his dick jump in his shorts.

Once you were in the quietness of his bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He sat closely next to you on his bed. He eyed your body, focusing on the plushness of your tits that spilled out of your dress. And, your thighs that looked so soft, it made him want to mark them up. Fuck, he had to have you. It made you nervous being under his gaze for this long and this closely. He usually never paid you any attention and now, suddenly, it was all on you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he started. He stared at you intently, practically moving you on top of him. You were hot all over. “Thank you,” you sounded more confused than pleased but Rafe could sense your nervousness and it was turning him on more than he thought was possible.

His fingers played with your inner thighs, softly drawing circles on them. “You know it’s funny. Sarah would be so pissed if she saw us right now.” You were breathless. And drunk. And so fucking close to him. And, there’s a little voice in the back of your head that’s begging you to get ahold of yourself and go home! But, you had to see this out. Maybe, you’d been praying and pleading with God to allow something like this to happen. Maybe, you’d let Rafe do whatever he wanted to you tonight. Maybe, you were willing to be Eve and let Rafe be the serpent that tempts you.

“Why?” He chuckled and shook his head. You were just a dumb little girl after all. He couldn’t wait until you were his. He’d teach you. And, mold you into his perfect woman. His pretty, pliant princess. “Because she wouldn’t want her brother and her best friend fucking each other. Not if it’s me and not if it’s you.” Everyone and their mother knew you were too good for anyone, especially Rafe. He may have been everyone’s favorite boy but they knew he had a temper on him.

“You wanna fuck me?” Were you in heaven? Like actually? You knew what ‘fucking’ meant but not exactly how to do it. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you incredibly wet to know that it was what he wanted to do with you. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded before pressing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “I can’t stop thinking about how that pussy would feel wrapped around my cock, mama.” His fingers were now grazing the poor excuse for underwear that you were wearing. Sarah made you buy some thongs because something about panty lines not being attractive or whatever.

You opened your legs wider for him, which made him groan into your neck. He pulled your panties to the side and was immediately met with your wetness. He softly rubbed your clit, your slick making it easy for his fingers to glide across it, quickly bringing you to orgasm. It happened too quickly for you to provide a proper warning but Rafe wasn’t complaining as he watched you come undone in his lap. Your thighs still shook around his wrist while you came down from your high.

“That was so hot, baby.” He pecked your lips once, then twice. “I’ve never done that before,” you mumbled. You were beyond embarrassed to admit that. But, Rafe managed to calm you down by stroking your arm. “Not even on your own?” You shook your head. You heard Sarah and Kie talk about cumming and how it felt but you could only imagine. You almost did try pleasuring yourself once, but you were already so scared. Your parents were supposed to be out and all was good until you heard your mom calling for you and you never tried again.

Rafe was having such a hard time trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond repair. So pretty and so untouched. He didn’t care if it was obsessive or predatory, you were going to be his. He was going to make sure of it. “Do you wanna do it again, babe?” After you gave him a yes, he wasted no time in getting both of your clothes off. Rafe couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. He didn’t believe in God and all of that shit but he was silently thanking whoever there was for this moment that he could only dream of. He thought with you being the pastor’s daughter, that you’d at least make him wait. But, you were just as wanting as he was. Or, you were proper drunk. But, that’s not what matters.

Rafe paused before reattaching himself to your body, his eyes looked over it. Admiring it. Was he in love with you? He could picture his life with you. You’d give him a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. And, even after you’ve aged and had kids, you’d still be his beautiful, loyal fucking housewife. Oh, shit. He had to be in love with you. He hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet and he’s daydreaming about giving you his kids, what the fuck. He’d never felt this fucking giddy about a girl until you. You made him feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush or some shit. It was unnerving. But, right now he was going to make you see God on his cock, and feelings will come later.

He leaned over, scattering kisses around your body. “You’re so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it this time. As his lips enclosed themselves around your nipple, teeth grazing them, he moaned. “So fucking beautiful, princess.” He was moaning like a slut above you and you were still a virgin in his bed. He was screwed. However, he didn’t see the effect all of this had on you. Your hips were twitching uncontrollably because of the proximity and of him and his words and his actions. You were begging for something, you didn’t know what. But, you were so fucking desperate for Rafe, you couldn’t bear it. You felt tears sliding down the sides of your face, Rafe noticed in his daze which made him stutter a bit. Were you crying?

“Are you…fucking crying? Baby?” His hands caressed your cheeks but his tone was mocking you. And, you liked it. You nodded shyly. He scoffed and smirked, kissing your head. “Why are you crying, hm?” You were too afraid to say that it was because you were inexperienced. And, your inability to do what you wanted was making you frustrated. Rafe looked at you expectantly, even nudging your cheek a bit. You sighed, “I can’t say what I want you to do to me because I can’t articulate it well enough. Rafe, I don’t know what any of this is or how I’m feeling and I need you to-” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t say it. Your one piece of dignity wouldn’t allow you to. “You need me to teach you, baby? You want Daddy to show you how to make yourself feel good when he can’t help you?” It felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of you as he spoke.

“W-what?” Your eyes were wide. No one had ever spoken to you this way. And, you think you’d be quite disgusted if it were anyone else. But, Rafe was making you leave a puddle on his damn sheets. He situated himself between your legs so that his cock lay flat against your clit. He pushed his hips into you, which caused you to shiver. “I said, do you need me to show you what it feels like to lose your mind?” His hips never stopped moving. And, you never stopped moaning. What the hell was happening? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want it to stop. You were begging God to not let it stop, you didn’t care about any of it at this moment. Not what your family would think if they knew what a little whore you were being for this white boy. And, you didn’t care if you were going to hell, because as long as you had Rafe with you, no place would be as bad. As Rafe humped you into a senseless, babbling mess, your last comprehensive thought was that you now belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was yours as you were his and nothing would be able to change that. You didn’t know what voodoo magic Rafe had coursing through him but you knew you’d never be separated, till death do you part.

His hips stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten a response. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You listening?” You whined at the loss of friction but answered. “Yes, baby. I need you to teach me. Please just fuckin teach me, Rafe.” You didn’t know that you just signed your deal with the devil. When Rafe said teach you, he really meant teach you.

~Now, dearest reader, I beg you let your imagination run wild with that last one.~

That was enough of a confirmation for Rafe as his hips resumed their movement. You were feeling the same things as you did when you were alone but more intense. Your tummy twisted with pleasure as your legs clasped tightly around Rafe's slutty, little waist. Your nails raked across his back harshly, but he didn’t mind. Your legs began to shake and you were panting now. You couldn’t describe this feeling, but you trusted Rafe. If he felt nothing was wrong then you allowed yourself to truly embrace it. He looked down at you, kissing you all over your face. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Give me what I want, can you do that? You gonna make a mess of me?”

You were blinded by white, hot pleasure. Rafe watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he could feel the wet spawning of your pussy against him. You were fucking majestic. He wanted to watch you cum over and over again, that was his goal tonight. You felt yourself grow tired as you came down from your high. Rafe planted kisses all over your face again, “you did so good, baby.” You hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to fall asleep. But, Rafe tapped your cheek rather harshly. “What are ya doing, huh? You thought we were done?” You whined. Your half-lidded eyes stared up at Rafe. “But, Rafey, I’m so tired.” He manhandled you onto your back again, hiking your leg around his waist as he began to line himself up with your entrance.

“That’s not my problem, baby. I didn’t get to cum and you did twice. That’s not fair, princess. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good too?” You nodded, sleepily. “Good girl. Just let me fuck you, and then you can go to sleep, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed himself into you, bottoming out. He didn’t bother checking up on you as he was fucking for his pleasure now. He moaned at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, already trying to milk him for everything he’s got.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He hadn’t felt anyone as tight as you since he first fucked a girl. He began thrusting inside of you, causing the both of you to moan. You were half asleep while he pounded your shit. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and wet pussy, and heavy groans and soft moans. It was purely pornographic. If only God could see you now. If only your father and mother could see you now.

The brutal fucking Rafe was giving you was fast and hard, but he was hitting that sweet spot so deliciously. You were clenching uncontrollably around him as you began squirting around him. When Rafe realized, he cursed under his breath. His hips stuttered as he watched the sight below him. When Rafe saw the tears streaming down your face again, it had him spilling inside of you. Mixtures of curses and groans left him as he came.

His head was in the crop of your neck while you played with his hair. You began to fall asleep again, feeling content just like this. Despite the mess you were laying in. But, Rafe began to move his hips again. Slowly this time. “Rafe, you said-“ “sh shh, baby, just go to sleep. Don’t worry about this.”

#x black reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut

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deonsx · 1 year ago

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Good Girl For Them

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor

Content: obscene speech

Dazai Osamu

You wanted him at work You wanted him at home you wanted him everywhere but he wasn't interested in you these days you knew what a serious guy he was at work

If it's a really serious business, you can never stop him, but it's been going on like this for 1 month, he doesn't take care of you, sometimes you even suspect that he's coming home, he sleeps at work or comes home for 2-3 hours

There's nothing he can't do in his job. A mission was more valuable than his own life. You tried to talk to him, but he promised you to pick up where he left off after his mission

But you really didn't like to put up with it, you were going to sleep alone tonight like any other night. But tonight you were feeling horny just like any other night, the only difference was you didn't want to deprive yourself

You wanted to touch yourself but you hesitated but you really started thinking about him you closed your eyes slowly undressed..everything was normal until you moaned his name "osamu..hah" you sighed your fingers went deep until you heard that voice

"So that's how you satisfy yourself while I'm gone, bella”

Your eyes widened at the sound you heard and I quickly sat up, "Osamu? It's not like that-" Osamu put his hand in his hair and scratched his face with a slight anger, "If that's what you want"

You couldn't speak, and he sat down slowly on the coffee table across the bed "Hm? What's the matter sweetie"

He was looking at you as if he was expecting something, you swallowed...you got out of bed and knelt in front of him "So cute" Your hands went to her pants and you unzipped them

“You're a good girl, aren't you?"

Chuuya Nakahara

You were working in your office and your boyfriend was front of your desk, and next to you was a boy who had just joined the team

You were all reviewing and organizing the documents the Boss gave, but you talked a little too much with the boy next to you and you got chuuya's full attention

The boy bent down in your ear to tell you something, suddenly the table slammed into the floor hard "what the hell are you talking to my woman?" looking at the boy, chuuya asked

The boy didn't answer and you didn't talk he just told you something about work and it made your boyfriend suddenly angry but you didn't find him wrong so you kept your silence

"We're leaving! We're done here for today, but you'll take care of the files for us" He made fun of him and grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you out of the office

He quickly pulled you into a corner. "Why are you letting him talk to you? Or does he have something that I don't?" he asked in a serious and slightly elevated tone

You laughed at his angry face "my love it's not possible she told me something about work it would be silly to look at another man than you"

He grinned at you, "So that's it… will you do whatever I say?" You nodded your head yes

“kneel my love”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

These days, you didn't even have time to stop by the house where the two of you live together, you were constantly going on missions

You were secretly working in the Agency to spy, for Fyodor and you couldn't find the time for her these days, but you didn't care, you wanted to give her important information and show her your worth

You were in one of those duties again and you were talking to the people in the agency, at that moment you felt a sense of being watched, but you thought it was not that important and continued the conversations

When it was evening, you finally came back to your house, your eyes were light sleepy, you saw him, you wanted to give the information as soon as possible and increase his confidence in you, in fact, you were doing everything for him

When you got home you saw your boyfriend Fyodor waiting in the dark "oh? didn't you sleep? I brought you good information" your voice rang with joy but no sound was heard from him

"Fyodor? What's the matter? Was there a leak in one of the missions—" he interrupted. "You think everything in my life is a mission?" You are stunned "I chose you as my girlfriend but you are not here even at night my dear?"

You didn't know what to say "I do everything for you... aren't you ?" your hair fell in front of your eyes, the man's eyes shone in the moonlight and he looked at you

"To happy me? Do you really want that?" You nodded but you thought to yourself did you really do all this to him but didn't he want it all this time? You looked forward to what he was going to tell you. Another mission? Or Assassination?

“Show me your Skills and kneel under the table”

Request Are Open

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artyandink · 5 months ago

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the art of heresy forged 1981

SUMMARY: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

TW: psychological torture, trauma, angst, smut, drinking, consumption of drugs, smoking, mentions of sex, Ben (cause he’s an individual warning), Ben and Psyke being little shits, it’s The Boys so be careful guys, really creepy shit, literal crack

STW: unprotected sex (again, not advised, guys), fingering, oral sex (f. receiving)

A/N - divider by @chachachannah

Song Inspo: …Ready for It? - Taylor Swift

three - me, you, my mind

1981:

The hospital corridors smelled of antiseptic and despair, the kind that clung to your skin no matter how much you tried to shake it off. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed incessantly, casting a cold, sterile glow over everything. You hated hospitals. Always had. Too much death, too much pain, too much everything. But you were here for a reason, and not even the oppressive atmosphere could keep you away.

The receptionist at the front desk had given you a wary look when you strolled in, your usual swagger evident in every step. She knew who you were—everyone did. But she also knew the rules, and that made her think she had the power to stop you. Poor thing didn’t know what she was up against.

“I’m here to see Elizabeth, uh, Liz,” you said, leaning over the counter slightly, your voice gruff with impatience. “She’s just had a baby.”

The receptionist, a mousy woman in her early forties, blinked up at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but only the father is allowed to visit right now. Hospital policy.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to let loose a string of expletives. “Yeah, well, policy be damned. I’m not just anyone, sweetheart. I’m Psyke. Recognise the name, doll?”

The woman’s eyes widened further, recognition dawning as she realized just who she was dealing with. You weren’t exactly the friendly neighborhood superhero type, but your name carried a ton of weight, and that weight was enough to get you what you wanted eleven times out of ten. She stammered, trying to find the right words to appease you while also following the rules she was undoubtedly tired of enforcing.

“I—I’m sorry, but—”

You leaned in closer, dropping your voice to a menacing whisper. “Look, I don’t have time for this shit. My sister just gave birth, and I’m not leaving this place until I’ve seen her and my niece. So, either you can let me in, or we can make this a whole lot more difficult for everyone involved. Your choice.”

The receptionist swallowed hard, clearly torn between her duty and the fear you’d expertly instilled in her. She fumbled with the papers on her desk before finally giving a reluctant nod. “Room 312,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s in Room 312.”

“Good girl,” you muttered, already striding down the corridor without a backward glance. You could feel the eyes of the staff on you, their hushed whispers following in your wake, but you didn’t give a damn. Let them talk. You had more important things to worry about.

The walk to Liz’s room felt longer than it should have. You kept your eyes forward, ignoring the sterile white walls and the smell of bleach that permeated the air. Hospitals always had a way of making you feel like you were suffocating, like the weight of all the pain and suffering within those walls was pressing down on your chest. But this was different. This was family.

When you finally reached Room 312, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the door handle. You weren’t used to feeling nervous—hell, you weren’t used to feeling anything other than anger or disdain most of the time—but right now, with Liz on the other side of that door, you felt something close to apprehension. She’d just given birth, for fuck’s sake. What were you supposed to say?

You pushed the thought aside and shoved the door open, stepping into the room with a confidence you didn’t quite feel. The sight that greeted you was one that would stay with you forever.

Liz was lying in the hospital bed, her face pale but glowing with a kind of serenity you’d never seen in her before. Her blonde hair was tousled, sticking to her forehead with sweat, and she looked exhausted—but happy. In her arms, she cradled a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket, her gaze fixed on the newborn with a tenderness that made something in your chest tighten uncomfortably.

“Liz,” you said, your voice uncharacteristically soft as you stepped closer to the bed. “How’re you holding up?”

Liz looked up at you, her tired eyes brightening as a smile spread across her face. “Well, look who finally decided to show up,” she teased, though there was no real bite to her words. “You missed all the fun.”

“Yeah, well, I had to wrestle a few assholes to get in here,” you replied, slipping back into your usual bravado. “But I wasn’t gonna let a bunch of rules keep me from meeting my niece.”

Liz chuckled softly, the sound warm and full of affection. “Meet Georgia,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced down at the baby in her arms. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

You leaned in closer, your heart doing an odd little flip as you got your first real look at the tiny human cradled in your sister’s arms. Georgia was small—so small it made you feel like a fucking giant in comparison—with a tuft of dark hair peeking out from under the blanket and her eyes squeezed shut. Her little face was scrunched up like she was already fed up with the world, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Perfect?” you scoffed, though your voice lacked its usual bite. “She looks like a pissed-off potato.”

Liz laughed, a sound that was both tired and full of joy. “That’s one way to put it,” she said, looking down at Georgia with a mother’s love in her eyes. “But she’s my pissed-off potato.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease a bit. “You did good, Liz. Real good.”

“Thanks,” Liz said softly, her gaze still locked on Georgia. “You want to hold her?”

The question caught you off guard. You weren’t the maternal type—not by a long shot. Kids were loud, messy, and a pain in the ass most of the time. But as you looked down at Georgia, something in you shifted, just a little. Maybe it was the fact that she was family, or maybe it was the way Liz was looking at you, but for the first time in your life, you found yourself wanting to protect something—someone—more than anything else.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice rough as you reached out to take the tiny bundle from Liz. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Liz carefully handed Georgia over, and you cradled the newborn in your arms, feeling her warmth seep into your skin. She was so fucking small, her tiny fingers curling into fists as she squirmed slightly in your hold. For a moment, you felt completely out of your depth, unsure of how to hold something so delicate without breaking it.

But then Georgia let out a small, contented sigh, and you felt something inside you melt. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt something so…pure. So untainted by the shitstorm that was your life. It was almost enough to make you believe in something good.

“Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, your voice surprisingly gentle as you looked down at your niece. “I’m your auntie. Your life’s about to get a whole lot more interesting, cause I’m a fuckin’ supe. You’re gonna be well protected from nasty bullies, jellybean.”

Liz watched you with a soft smile, her eyes filled with a warmth you hadn’t seen in a long time. “She’s going to need someone like you in her life,” she said quietly. “Someone who won’t take shit from anyone.”

You snorted, but there was no real humor in it. “Yeah, well, that’s something I’m good at.”

Liz’s smile faltered slightly, and she reached out to place a hand on your arm. “Promise me you’ll be there for her. For me. You know how things are with Vince. He’s…”

Her voice trailed off, but you knew what she meant. Vince was an asshole, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to be winning any Father of the Year awards, that much was certain. You’d never liked him, but Liz had always been the one with the bleeding heart, always seeing the good in people even when there wasn’t any to be found.

“I’ll be there,” you said, your voice firm as you looked down at Georgia. “I promise.”

Liz let out a small sigh of relief, her grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Thank you.”

“I still don’t know why you married the guy.” You snorted, shaking your head. “Am I still not allowed to bash his face in?”

“That’s a stretch.”

“I have enough money from Payback to take care’a both of us. And Soldier Boy could help if I asked him.” You protested, but she shook her head.

Liz gave you a soft smile. “I’d be indebted to you. And I always have been, you’re my older sister and you’ve been all I know. But I’m gonna do this my way, as much as I’d like to meet the guy who’s fucking my older sister.”

“He’s a real good fuck too.”

“I bet he is.”

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound in the room the soft breathing of the newborn in your arms. It was a moment of calm, a rare reprieve from the chaos that usually filled your life. You found yourself reluctant to break the silence, content to just be there with Liz and Georgia.

But eventually, reality began to creep back in, and you knew you couldn’t stay in this little bubble forever. With a reluctant sigh, you carefully handed Georgia back to Liz, the weight of responsibility settling back onto your shoulders.

“Alright,” you said, your voice rough as you cleared your throat. “I should probably get going. Let you get some rest.”

Liz looked up at you, her eyes filled with gratitude. “You don’t have to go just yet.”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “Nah, you need your rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Liz nodded, though you could see the reluctance in her eyes. “Okay. But don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said with a smirk, though there was an edge of seriousness to your tone. “Take care of yourself, Liz. And take care of Georgia.”

“I will,” Liz promised, her voice soft. “Thank you for being here.”

You nodded, giving her one last look before turning to leave the room. But just as you reached the door, Liz called out to you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, sis?”

You turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Liz hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I just want you to know… you’re going to be a great aunt.”

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But then you felt a small, genuine smile tug at your lips, and you nodded.

“Thanks, Liz,” you said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

And with that, you turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you. As you made your way down the corridor, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You had a niece now—a tiny, pissed-off potato of a niece who was going to need you in her life. It was a strange feeling, knowing that you were responsible for someone other than yourself. But as you thought about Georgia’s tiny face and Liz’s hopeful smile, you found yourself determined to live up to the promise you’d made.

No matter what it took, you were going to be there for Georgia. You were going to be the aunt she needed, the one who wouldn’t take shit from anyone and who would always have her back. Because that’s what family was about.

Even for someone like you.

Ben’s hotel room smelled of smoke and something faintly sweet, a scent that clung to the silk robe he wore loosely over his broad frame. The black fabric shimmered under the dim light of the bedside lamp, emphasizing every movement he made as he lounged back in the chair by the window, a cigar between his fingers. You watched him take a long, slow drag, the end glowing bright red before he exhaled a thick plume of smoke into the room.

“Congrats on your sister,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, rough around the edges. “She popped out a kid, huh?”

You leaned back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, and let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, she did. Little girl, Georgia. Cute as hell, too—though she looks like a potato right now.”

Ben chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through the room. “They all look like that at first. Wrinkled and pissed off, like they know what kind of shit they’ve been born into.”

You snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.”

He leaned back further in his chair, his robe falling open slightly, exposing more of his muscular chest. His green eyes were sharp as they flicked over to you, something unreadable in them as he took another drag from his cigar. “You ever think about it? Having kids?”

You shrugged, pretending to be more interested in the cigarette you were holding than the direction the conversation was taking. “Not really. Never thought I’d be the mom type. Too much of a hard-ass for all that soft shit.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered, rolling the cigar between his fingers. “That’s what I thought about Marjorie too.”

The mention of Crimson Countess—Marjorie—hung in the air between you like a bad stench. You’d seen the two of them together often enough, the way they played up their public romance for the cameras, all smiles and perfect poses. It was all bullshit, and you both knew it. Ben and Marjorie weren’t a real couple—they were just a convenient PR package, wrapped up nice and neat to sell to the public.

“Marjorie and kids?” You scoffed at the thought, raising an eyebrow at him. “Can’t picture that.”

Ben let out a dry laugh, the sound devoid of any real humor. “Neither could I. Even back in the day, when we were…whatever the fuck we were, she never talked about kids. Hell, I didn’t either.”

You nodded, taking a slow drag from your cigarette. “Too much of a mess, all of it. The world’s gone to shit, and bringing a kid into it? That’s a special kind of hell.”

“Exactly.” Ben’s voice was rough, tinged with something bitter. He took another long pull from his cigar, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared out the window. “Can’t even imagine what kind of life they’d have. Constant danger, growing up with assholes like us around. Nah, better off without.”

The bitterness in his tone matched the cynical look in his eyes, and you found yourself nodding in agreement. “Yeah, no need to drag anyone else into this fucked-up world.”

Ben’s gaze flicked back to you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And you? Think your sister made a mistake?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, turning the cigarette between your fingers. “Nah, Liz is different. She’s…I don’t know, softer. She’s got a heart that isn’t covered in layers of steel and hate. Maybe she can make it work.”

Ben let out a huff, the smirk still in place as he shook his head. “That’s one hell of an optimistic view coming from you. Never thought I’d hear it.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove with your foot. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Just because I think Liz can handle it doesn’t mean I’d ever want the same shit for myself. No way.”

Ben grinned at that, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he leaned forward, his cigar hanging lazily between his lips. “So, if not kids, what the hell do you want, then? What’s left for someone like you, huh?”

The question was loaded, and you knew it. What did you want? In this world of lies, violence, and constant manipulation, it was hard to even remember what you used to want, let alone what you wanted now. But there was something in the way Ben was looking at you, a challenge in his eyes that made you want to answer, to say something, anything that would push back against the darkness that threatened to swallow you both.

You flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching as it floated to the floor, and met his gaze head-on. “I want to keep living. Fighting. Whatever comes my way, I want to face it and make sure it doesn’t break me.”

Ben’s smirk widened into a full grin, a glint of approval in his eyes. “Now that, I can get behind. You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that.”

“Damn right I am,” you shot back, your tone dripping with confidence. “What about you, huh? What’s left for the great Soldier Boy?”

Ben’s grin faded slightly, his expression hardening as he took another drag from his cigar. “Same as you, I guess. Just keep going, keep fighting, and make sure the world doesn’t forget who the hell I am.”

There was something raw in his voice, something vulnerable that he quickly covered up with another puff of smoke. You didn’t push it—Ben wasn’t the type to open up easily, and you weren’t the type to pry. But there was a part of you that understood, that recognized the fear of being forgotten, of being rendered obsolete in a world that was constantly moving forward without you.

You took a final drag from your cigarette, then crushed it in the ashtray on the nightstand. “We’re both stubborn bastards, that’s for sure.”

Ben chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Damn right. And don’t you forget it.”

You met his gaze, feeling the tension in the room shift slightly, a different kind of heat sparking between you. There was something electric in the air, something that had been simmering beneath the surface since you’d walked into the room. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt it—hell, it wasn’t even the first time you’d acted on it—but tonight felt different. There was an edge to it, a kind of desperation that neither of you could ignore.

Ben’s eyes darkened as he looked at you, his gaze lingering on your lips before trailing down to the curve of your neck. “You know, you always did know how to push my buttons.”

You felt a smirk tug at your lips as you leaned back on the bed, your eyes locked on his. “Is that right? And here I thought I was just being my charming self.”

He let out a low growl, his grin widening as he pushed himself out of the chair and moved toward the bed. “Charming, my ass. You’re a goddamn menace.”

You didn’t bother to argue, your heart pounding in your chest as Ben closed the distance between you. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing as he reached out and pulled you toward him, his hands rough and insistent on your skin. The silk robe he wore brushed against your arm, the fabric cool and smooth compared to the heat of his touch.

“Ben,” you murmured, your voice a low whisper as his lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

“Shut up,” he growled against your throat, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, the warmth of his palms sending shivers down your spine. “Just shut up.”

You couldn’t help the low moan that escaped your lips as his hands roamed over your body, the roughness of his touch contrasting with the softness of the silk robe. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved, the way he took control, like he needed this as much as you did.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as his lips found yours, the kiss hard and demanding. It was a battle for dominance, neither of you willing to back down, both of you determined to take what you wanted. His hands slid under your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, and you didn’t hesitate to do the same with his robe, the silk falling to the floor in a heap.

The cool air of the room hit your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of Ben’s body as he pressed against you, his hands roaming over every inch of exposed flesh. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely-contained need that matched your own.

“Fuck,” you muttered against his lips, your nails digging into his back as he pushed you down onto the bed. “You’re gonna leave marks.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice rough with desire as he trailed kisses down your neck, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “I want you to remember this.”

You arched into him, a low moan escaping your lips as his mouth found the sensitive spot on your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You didn’t care about the bruises, didn’t care about the pain—if anything, it only made you want him more.

“Ben,” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he moved lower, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Shut up,” he growled, sucking on your skin as he threw your legs apart. Touch practiced. Rough.

You gasped, the sharp sensation of his mouth on your skin sending jolts of heat through your body. Ben’s lips were rough and eager as they explored the curve of your collarbone, trailing lower until he reached the edge of your bra. You shivered under his touch, a thrill racing through you as he sucked gently at the delicate skin there, his fingers gripping your waist with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and teasing. “Can’t believe I waited this long.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers curling into his hair as you pulled him closer. “It’s been a few hours since you fucked me.”

He looked up at you then, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Few hours too long, sweet thing.”

With that, his hands slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers brushing against the skin of your thighs. You felt the heat of his touch radiating through the thin fabric, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he pushed your pants down, baring your legs to the cool air.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his fingers trailing up your thighs with agonizing slowness. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You could barely respond, too lost in the heat pooling in your core as his fingers finally found their way to the center of your desire. He paused, teasing you for a moment, before sliding a single finger between your folds, pushing against you with just the right amount of pressure.

“Ben,” you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. You felt raw, exposed, and completely at his mercy. He moved slowly at first, his finger gliding effortlessly as he worked you up, the pressure building with each tantalizing stroke.

“Easy there, sugar,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “We’ve got all night. I want to take my time with you.”

You opened your eyes to find him watching you intently, his green gaze dark with desire. There was something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, that sent another wave of heat crashing through you.

“Don’t tease me,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper as his finger curled inside you, the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. “I need more.”

“Need more?” He smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you. “You’ve got it, babe.”

With that, he slipped in another finger, stretching you open, and you moaned loudly, biting down on your lip to suppress any further sounds. He moved them in a slow, rhythmic motion, and you could feel every stroke, every curl of his fingers hitting all the right spots.

“Shit, that feels incredible,” you breathed, your body arching into him as you fought to maintain control. But the pleasure was building quickly, spiraling higher and higher until you were lost in it.

Ben seemed to revel in the way you responded to him, his fingers working you expertly as he leaned down to press kisses along your inner thigh, teasing you mercilessly. Each brush of his lips sent shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body, and you knew you were dangerously close to the edge.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his breath warm against your skin. “Let go for me.”

With every movement of his fingers, every kiss he pressed against your skin, you felt the tension coil tighter and tighter within you. “Ben,” you gasped, your hands clutching the sheets as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, threatening to pull you under.

“Yeah?” he murmured, the devilish grin on his face betraying his eagerness.

You met his gaze, eyes wide and pleading. “I’m so close.”

“Good,” he growled, picking up the pace, fingers moving faster, deeper. “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

You barely had time to register his words before the tension snapped, pleasure exploding through you as you cried out his name. Your back arched, your entire body tightening around him as you let go, waves of bliss crashing over you.

“Fucking hell,” Ben breathed, his fingers still moving as you came down from your high, riding out the aftershocks of pleasure. He leaned down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction as he watched you come undone.

When you finally opened your eyes again, he was smirking at you, his fingers glistening with your arousal. “You’re a fucking sight to behold, you know that?”

You chuckled breathlessly, still feeling the lingering effects of your climax. “Yeah? And you’re a cocky bastard.”

“Only because I know how to push your buttons,” he shot back, his voice low and teasing. He slid his fingers out of you, slowly, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips at the loss.

Ben’s smirk widened as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied look on his face. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Your heart raced at the sight, a heat flooding your cheeks as you watched him. There was something primal in the way he moved, something raw and unrestrained that set your entire body alight with need.

“Now,” he said, leaning over you, his green eyes dark with lust. “I think it’s my turn to taste you.”

Before you could respond, he was lowering himself down your body, settling between your thighs. You gasped as he pressed a kiss to your core, his lips brushing against you with feather-light pressure before he buried his face deeper, licking you with a fierce hunger.

“Ben!” you gasped, your back arching again as pleasure shot through you, the sensation overwhelming in the best way possible. He worked you with a skill that left you breathless, his tongue moving in expert strokes, teasing and tasting as he explored you.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine. He was relentless, his mouth moving expertly as he pushed you back toward the edge, building you up higher and higher until you were gasping for breath.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he worked you, the heat of his mouth combined with the pressure of his tongue sending you spiraling toward another climax. The pleasure was building again, a familiar tightness coiling within you, and you knew you were close.

“Ben,” you gasped, feeling your body start to tremble. “I’m—”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice low and commanding, and the combination of his words and the feeling of his mouth on you pushed you right over the edge. You cried out, your back arching as pleasure flooded through you, crashing over you in wave after wave.

“Fuck!” you shouted, your body trembling as you rode the waves of your climax, feeling his tongue work you through it, keeping you on the edge, keeping the pleasure coming.

As you finally came down from your high, gasping for breath, you felt Ben pulling back, his lips glistening, a satisfied grin on his face. “Told you I’d make you forget.”

You chuckled breathlessly, the sound a mixture of disbelief and pure, unfiltered satisfaction. “You weren’t kidding. That was…something else.”

He leaned back, looking at you with a glimmer of pride. “You liked it, huh?”

“Yeah, I liked it,” you admitted, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body. “You’ve got some serious skills there, Soldier Boy.”

“Only the best for you, Psyke.” He winked, his voice teasing as he shifted closer again, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against him. “But now that I’ve gotten my taste, I want more.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at your lips. “More? You think you can handle it?”

“Oh, I can handle it,” he growled, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. The kiss was heated, a promise of what was to come, and you could feel the heat building again, a fire igniting between you that promised a long night ahead.

You melted against him, feeling the weight of his body pressing against yours, the heat radiating from him as you lost yourself in the kiss. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the thrill of excitement course through you, and you knew that whatever came next, you were ready for it. You were ready to face the darkness together, to embrace the chaos and the heat, and to lose yourself in the wild, unrestrained moments that came with being together.

“Let’s see what else you’ve got,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with challenge.

Ben grinned, a wicked spark in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Oh, I’ve got plenty in store for you, don’t you worry. M’gonna make sure you come at least five times before the night’s over.”

The morning light filtered into the lobby of the hotel through the large glass windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The place was quiet at this early hour, with only a few scattered guests enjoying breakfast or scrolling through their phones. You sat in one of the plush armchairs, nursing a coffee and trying to shake off the remnants of last night’s haze. Your clothes were disheveled, a stark contrast to the elegant setting, but you were past caring about appearances.

As you took another sip of your coffee, you felt a sharp, familiar presence approaching. You looked up to see Marjorie, also known as Crimson Countess, storming toward you. Her usual air of polished elegance was replaced by a fierce, almost frenzied expression. Her tight red dress clung to her curves, and her high heels clicked loudly against the marble floor as she made her way over.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” Marjorie snapped as she reached you, her voice dripping with irritation. “I need to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, casually setting your coffee down on the table beside you. “Oh, really? And here I thought I’d be able to enjoy my morning without a drama fest.”

Marjorie’s eyes flashed with anger, but she took a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing with Ben, but this has to stop. You’re making things complicated.”

You took a moment to let that sink in, a smirk playing at your lips. “Complicated? How so?”

Her expression tightened further. “You’re screwing him, and it’s messing with our arrangement. We have a deal, and I don’t appreciate you undermining it.”

You chuckled, a harsh, almost mocking sound that made Marjorie’s face redden. “Oh, honey, don’t get your panties in a twist. Ben and I are just having a bit of fun. It’s not like we’re plotting world domination.”

“Fun?” Marjorie spat, her tone dripping with disdain. “You’re not just having fun. You’re disrupting things that are important to both of us.”

“Important to both of you?” You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “I’m pretty sure Ben’s deal with you is just a glorified PR stunt. You know it, I know it, and deep down, he knows it too.”

Marjorie’s eyes widened in fury. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Ben and I have—”

“—A business arrangement,” you cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m well aware. I’ve seen the way you cling to him every time there’s a camera around. Pathetic.”

Marjorie’s jaw clenched. “Cling? You think I’m pathetic?”

“Damn right I do,” you replied, your tone icy. “You’re like a stage five clinger, always hanging around, making sure everyone sees how ‘happy’ you are. It’s sickening. Ben’s never been into the whole lovey-dovey crap, and you’re just there to play a part.”

Her face twisted in anger, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “You think you’re so much better? You’re just a temporary distraction. A little fling for Ben to amuse himself with.”

You stood up, meeting her gaze with a steely resolve. “And you’re a joke. You think you’re special because you’ve got a bit of fame and a PR relationship? Newsflash, Marjorie, you’re just another face in the crowd. Ben’s had enough of the fake crap, and he’s making that pretty damn clear.”

Before Marjorie could retort, Ben strolled into the lobby, looking every bit the part of a man who was used to getting his way. His black silk robe was slung casually over his shoulders, and he had that confident, almost arrogant swagger that you knew all too well. He looked between you and Marjorie with a knowing smirk.

“Everything alright here?” Ben’s voice was smooth, laced with a hint of amusement as he approached.

Marjorie’s eyes flashed with a mix of relief and annoyance as she turned to him. “Ben, you need to handle this. She’s—”

“—Handling it just fine,” you interrupted, your voice laced with a defiant edge. “Thanks for joining the party, Ben. Marjorie was just about to explain how she feels about our arrangement.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing at Marjorie with a curious expression. “Oh? And what’s the problem now?”

Marjorie’s frustration was palpable as she threw her hands up in exasperation. “She’s undermining our deal. I need you to make her stop.”

Ben’s grin widened, and he turned his full attention back to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, sweetheart. But you know, I wouldn’t say no to a little more fun.”

Without warning, he reached out and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close. His hands were rough, assertive, and there was no mistaking the predatory gleam in his eyes. You barely had time to react before his lips were on yours, kissing you with a raw, hungry passion that left you breathless.

Marjorie’s eyes widened in shock as she watched the scene unfold, her mouth hanging open. She clearly hadn’t anticipated Ben’s reaction, and you could see the mix of jealousy and anger in her expression.

Ben’s hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips and pulling you tighter against him. His touch was commanding, and there was no subtlety in the way he maneuvered you, as if claiming you for his own. He broke the kiss only long enough to look over at Marjorie with a smirk.

“Looks like you’ve got some competition,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I’m not about to let her go.”

Marjorie’s face turned a deep shade of red, and she opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she glared at you with an expression that could have burned a hole through steel.

“You know what?” you said, your voice loud and unapologetic as Ben’s hands slipped down to give your ass a playful smack. “We’re literally just fucking every chance we get. I see no problems here.”

Ben’s grin grew wider as he continued his assault on your body, his hands exploring every curve with a possessive eagerness. “Damn right. And if Marjorie’s got an issue with that, well, that’s her problem.”

Marjorie’s face was a storm of emotions—anger, humiliation, and something like betrayal. She looked between you and Ben, her eyes filled with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, Ben. And you,” she snapped at you, “you’re nothing but a—”

Ben cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Save it, Marjorie. I’m done with this conversation.”

Marjorie’s mouth snapped shut, and she glared at Ben one last time before turning on her heel and storming out of the lobby, her high heels clicking angrily as she went. The sound of the door slamming shut behind her was almost a relief, and you let out a sigh of relief, leaning into Ben’s touch.

Ben’s hands were still on your ass, giving it another playful slap before he pulled you back against him. His lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was even more heated, full of unrestrained desire. You melted into it, your hands gripping his shoulders as you lost yourself in the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his green eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement. “That was fun,” he said, his voice low and filled with a smugness that was impossible to miss.

You chuckled, still feeling the remnants of the kiss on your lips. “Yeah, you sure know how to make a point.”

Ben smirked, his hands still resting possessively on your hips. “Glad I could help. Now, how about we take this somewhere more private?”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Lead the way.”

As you followed him toward the elevator, you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Whatever else the day held, you knew it would be anything but boring. Ben’s presence was a wild card, and you were ready to embrace whatever came next.

The night was crisp, and the city lights sparkled like a sea of diamonds below. The limo's interior was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the backseat reading lights and the flicker of the occasional street lamp as it sped along. You and Ben—Soldier Boy, as he was known—had taken full advantage of the privacy the car afforded.

Ben adjusted his black tuxedo, smoothing down the front while you fixed your dress, the deep crimson fabric clinging in all the right places. You cast a glance at Ben, who had a satisfied smirk on his face. His green eyes glinted with mischief as he adjusted his bow tie, the only hint of the evening’s earlier activities evident in the disheveled state of his usually pristine hair.

“You know,” you said, smoothing down the fabric of your dress, “I’ve got to hand it to you. You’re quite the multitasker.”

Ben chuckled, his grin widening. “Oh? And how’s that?”

“Managing to get us both worked up and still looking like a million bucks.” You winked at him. “Impressive.”

“Just a skill set I’ve developed over the years,” Ben replied, adjusting his cufflinks. “But you’re looking pretty damn incredible yourself.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the pleased smile that spread across your face. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Soldier Boy.”

The limo pulled up to the entrance of the gala, the flashing lights of photographers and the murmur of the crowd growing louder as the vehicle came to a stop. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, your heels clicking on the marble steps as you took in the opulence of the event.

The gala was a high-profile affair, hosted by one of the city’s elite charities. The grand entrance was adorned with gold-trimmed decorations, and a red carpet led to the entrance, where a steady stream of well-dressed guests were being greeted with champagne and smiles. You took Ben’s arm as you approached, the two of you looking every bit the glamorous couple you were pretending to be.

As you entered the ballroom, the grandeur of the venue hit you. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the elegant tables set with fine china and polished silverware. The guests were mingling, their laughter and conversation creating a lively, sophisticated buzz.

You and Ben made quite the entrance, heads turning as the two of you walked in together. It wasn’t long before you noticed a few curious glances and whispered conversations. You had always been used to attracting attention, but tonight it felt particularly charged, thanks to the way you and Ben had spent the ride over.

You turned to Ben with a sly grin. “Ready to make this night interesting?”

Ben’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Oh, I’m more than ready.”

As you made your way to the bar, you could feel the weight of several gazes on you. Ben seemed to enjoy the attention, his confidence practically radiating off him. You could sense a playful competitiveness between you and him, each of you trying to outdo the other with quips and subtle touches.

At the bar, you ordered a champagne and turned to Ben. “I see you’re still sporting that smirk. You think you can keep it up all night?”

Ben chuckled, his voice low and teasing. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

A couple approached you—an elegantly dressed man and a woman in a stunning blue gown. They smiled politely, clearly eager to make your acquaintance.

“Good evening,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Richard, and this is my wife, Emily. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shook Richard’s hand with a firm grip, then turned to Emily. “Nice to meet you. I’m Psyke, and this is Soldier Boy.”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly at the name, but she quickly recovered with a polite smile. “Oh, I’ve heard quite a bit about both of you. This must be quite the evening for you.”

Ben leaned in slightly, his voice smooth and confident. “Well, we do try to make things interesting.”

Emily chuckled, her gaze flicking between you and Ben. “I can see that. You both seem to be quite the pair.”

Richard nodded, clearly intrigued. “So, what brings you to the gala tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Ben a sidelong glance. “Well, let’s just say we’re here to enjoy ourselves and maybe shake things up a bit.”

Ben’s grin widened, and he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Psyke here likes to keep things lively. Keeps me on my toes.”

Emily laughed, clearly charmed by the banter. “Well, it sounds like you’re both having a good time.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you said, giving Ben a playful nudge. “We’ve been having a lot of fun lately.”

The conversation continued, but you and Ben kept finding ways to tease each other, exchanging smirks and subtle touches. It was clear to everyone watching that there was more to your relationship than just a shared evening at a gala.

At one point, you caught Ben’s hand sliding down to give your ass a quick squeeze as you chatted with another guest. You raised an eyebrow and shot him a look that promised retribution later.

“Careful,” you warned in a low voice. “Or I might just have to show you who’s really in charge.”

Ben’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Looking forward to it.”

As the night wore on, you and Ben continued to mingle with the other guests, your playful teasing never missing a beat. At one point, Ben even attempted to dance with you, though his moves were decidedly more suggestive than graceful. You found yourself laughing and trying to keep up, the entire scene feeling more like a private joke between the two of you than a formal event.

A particularly snooty woman approached, her eyes narrowing as she took in Ben’s casual demeanor and your playful interactions. “I’m surprised to see you here, Soldier Boy,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “And with Psyke, no less.”

Ben’s grin didn’t falter as he gave her a once-over. “Surprised? Well, I do like to keep people on their toes.”

The woman’s lips thinned, clearly unamused by Ben’s response. “I hope you’re not disrupting the event with your...antics.”

You stepped in, leaning close to the woman with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re just here to have a good time. If that’s too much for you, maybe you should have stayed home.”

The woman’s eyes widened in shock, and she quickly retreated, her face a mask of indignation. You and Ben exchanged a triumphant look, both of you clearly enjoying the minor scandal you’d caused.

As the evening continued, the two of you couldn’t resist finding more ways to push each other’s buttons. At one point, Ben leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our little ‘discussion’ earlier.”

You turned to him, a playful smile on your lips. “Oh? And what are you thinking?”

“Maybe it’s time I showed you just how much I appreciate your company,” Ben said, his voice low and suggestive.

Before you could respond, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, his hands finding their way to your ass once again. You squealed in surprise as he gave you a quick, playful squeeze, earning a few curious glances from nearby guests.

“Oh, really?” you said, trying to sound shocked. “In the middle of a gala?”

Ben’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Why not? We’re here to make an impression.”

You laughed, unable to resist his playful demeanor. “Well, in that case, I guess I’ll just have to keep you on your toes, too.”

The rest of the night passed in a whirlwind of laughter, playful banter, and more than a few surprised looks from other guests. You and Ben continued to push each other’s buttons, reveling in the way you could make even the most formal of events feel like your own personal playground.

As the evening drew to a close, you found yourselves back in the limo, the car’s interior a stark contrast to the glitz and glamour of the gala. Ben leaned back, his eyes still gleaming with satisfaction.

“Not a bad night,” he said, stretching his legs out with a contented sigh.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, leaning back against him with a relaxed smile. “You sure know how to keep things interesting.”

Ben’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm and reassuring. “Well, I do try. But I think I’m ready for the next round of fun.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

Ben’s grin was pure mischief. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

NOW:

You came to on the cold, hard floor of Hughie’s kitchen. The tile felt like ice against your cheek, and you tried to push yourself up but found your limbs unresponsive. A dull ache throbbed in your head, and the world spun around you in a dizzying blur. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the shapes of the kitchen appliances and the scattered mess of Hughie’s apartment.

Through the haze, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They grew louder, more distinct, and you could faintly make out Hughie’s concerned voice.

“Jesus, what the hell?” Hughie’s voice was tinged with panic. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You tried to speak, but the words came out as a mumbled mess, barely audible. Your mouth felt dry, and the effort to communicate left you feeling even more disoriented.

Hughie’s footsteps grew closer, and a moment later, you felt his hands gently lifting you from the floor. “Hang on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Before Hughie could do much more, another set of footsteps pounded into the kitchen. Ben burst through the door, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His face went from confusion to fury in an instant.

“What the fuck happened?” Ben’s voice roared through the room, filled with an edge of panic. “Why the hell is she on the goddamn floor?”

Hughie looked sheepish, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I—I found her like this. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his anger palpable. “You found her like this? How the fuck long ago?”

“Just a few minutes,” Hughie stammered. “I was in the other room and—”

“—Jesus Christ,” Ben cut him off, his voice low and dangerously sharp. “You had her on the floor for more than a few minutes? What the hell kind of shit show is this?”

Without waiting for an answer, Ben knelt beside you. His rough hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped you onto your back. You were barely aware of what was happening, your head spinning and your limbs feeling like lead.

“Hey, stay with me,” Ben said, his voice a harsh whisper but filled with concern. “Can you hear me?”

You tried to nod, but the motion made your head spin even more. You blinked slowly, trying to focus on his face, which hovered above you like a shadowy figure.

Ben’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression was still a mixture of anger and worry. “Jesus, you’re out of it. What the hell did you take?”

“I… don’t know,” you managed to croak out, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I… can’t remember.”

“Of course you can’t,” Ben muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Alright, we’re not calling the fucking hospital. Not yet. We’ll deal with this ourselves.”

He glanced over at Hughie. “Get some fucking pillows or something. We need to get her off the floor and make sure she’s okay.”

Hughie scrambled to follow Ben’s instructions, rushing to fetch a few cushions from the couch and placing them under your legs. Ben moved with a rough efficiency, lifting you and maneuvering you onto the sofa with surprising care. He propped your legs up with the pillows, making sure you were as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.

As you lay there, trying to steady your breathing, Ben hovered nearby, his face a mask of intense focus mixed with frustration. He looked at Hughie, who was standing awkwardly by the counter, clearly feeling out of his depth.

“Alright,” Ben said, his voice still sharp but less panicked. “What the fuck happened here, Hughie? Did she just fall or something?”

Hughie shook his head, clearly rattled. “I don’t know. I came in and found her like this. She was just lying there.”

Ben let out a frustrated sigh, turning back to you. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s high as balls and you didn’t even think to call for help?”

You tried to focus on Ben’s face, his green eyes piercing through your disorientation. “High?” you mumbled, confusion evident in your voice. “I don’t… remember.”

Ben’s gaze softened just a bit, though his tone remained gruff. “Yeah, well, whatever the hell you took, it’s fucking you up pretty good. You need to stay awake, alright? Don’t go drifting off on me.”

You tried to respond, but your head was swimming, and the effort only seemed to make things worse. Ben’s frustration was evident, but there was a thread of genuine concern in his voice.

“You’re going to be fine,” Ben said, his tone a mix of roughness and reassurance. “We just need to ride this out and figure out what the hell happened.”

He looked at Hughie again. “Make yourself useful. Get us some water and maybe something to eat. If she’s been out of it for a while, she’s going to need to rehydrate and get some energy back.”

Hughie nodded quickly, darting off to the kitchen. Ben’s attention turned back to you as he settled into a nearby chair, his gaze never leaving your face.

“So, this is how you decide to spend your day?” Ben said, his voice gruff but tinged with a wry edge. “Lying on the floor, all out of it. Fucking great way to spend an evening.”

You tried to muster a weak smile, but the effort left you feeling even dizzier. “Sorry… didn’t mean to…”

Ben cut you off, his expression softening slightly despite the rough edge in his voice. “Don’t apologize. Just focus on staying awake. We’ve got this covered.”

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to read what was left of your consciousness. “And for the record, if you’re going to get yourself fucked up, at least do it somewhere I don’t have to clean up after.”

You managed a feeble chuckle, which only made your head spin more. “Noted.”

Hughie returned with a glass of water and a small plate of crackers. He set them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking more than a little relieved to have something to do. “Here you go. Try to drink some of this.”

You struggled to sit up slightly, your hands trembling as you reached for the water. Ben moved closer, his hand steadying yours as you took a few sips.

“Slowly,” he instructed. “Don’t rush it.”

You nodded weakly, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you drank. The water helped a little, though it didn’t completely clear the fog in your head.

“Better?” Ben asked, his voice still gruff but with a hint of concern.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, though the word came out as more of a slur. “Just… dizzy.”

Ben sighed, his expression a mixture of frustration and empathy. “We’ll get you through this. Just hang tight.”

Hughie watched from the sidelines, clearly feeling out of his depth. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Ben shot him a look that was both appreciative and impatient. “Just keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t slip back out. I’ll figure out what the hell we’re dealing with.”

Hughie nodded and took a seat across the room, his gaze occasionally flicking toward you with concern. You tried to focus on the voices around you, the conversations blending into a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake.

Ben stayed close, his presence a reassuring constant in the midst of the confusion. He occasionally checked your pulse, his movements deliberate and precise, and though his words were rough, there was an undeniable care in his actions.

As time passed, the disorientation began to fade slowly. You could feel the room starting to come back into focus, and the nausea receded somewhat. Ben’s gruff comments and occasional jokes about your state made the whole situation seem almost surreal, adding a touch of humor to the otherwise unsettling experience.

“So,” Ben said after a while, his tone more conversational, “what exactly did you get into, anyway? You got some sort of new drug or something?”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog from your mind. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Ben gave a skeptical look but didn’t press the issue further. “Alright, well, let’s just get through this and figure it out. In the meantime, just try to relax and stay with us.”

You managed a faint smile, feeling a bit more lucid as the minutes went by. Ben’s rough demeanor had its own charm, and though his swearing and brusque attitude were far from comforting, there was a sense of reliability in his presence.

“Thanks,” you said softly, the words coming more easily now. “For… helping.”

Ben’s expression softened slightly, though his voice remained gruff. “Don’t mention it. Just try not to make a habit of this, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a bit better with each passing moment. Hughie continued to keep watch, his concern evident but his actions hesitant. Ben’s constant vigilance and occasional snide remarks kept you grounded, providing a steadying influence as you slowly regained your strength.

The night wore on, and as the initial haze of disorientation cleared, you felt yourself growing more coherent. Ben’s rough charm and Hughie’s well-meaning but somewhat awkward attempts to help created an oddly comforting atmosphere, despite the chaos.

Eventually, as you started to feel more like yourself, Ben leaned back in his chair, his expression a mixture of relief

and exasperation. “Well, you’re not exactly back to normal, but at least you’re not out cold on the floor anymore.”

You gave him a weak smile, appreciating the effort even if his methods were a bit unconventional. “I’ll take it.”

Ben nodded, his gaze shifting to Hughie. “Alright, I think we’re good here. Just keep an eye on her and let me know if anything changes.”

Hughie nodded, looking more relieved. “Will do. Thanks for—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben interrupted, standing up and stretching. “Just don’t fuck it up again.”

As Ben headed for the door, he threw a final glance back at you. “And for the record, if you’re going to get yourself fucked up, at least make sure it’s something worth the trouble.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you and Hughie in the quiet of the apartment. The disorientation was mostly gone now, and you felt more like yourself, though still a bit shaky.

Hughie moved closer, offering a reassuring smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you said, your voice stronger now. “Thanks for—”

“Don’t mention it,” Hughie said quickly, though there was genuine relief in his eyes. “Just glad you’re okay.”

You nodded, grateful for his concern even if his presence had felt a bit like a secondary player in the drama. Then you frowned. “Cocksucker.”

“Yeah?” Hughie instantly answered, perking up a little, making you inwardly laugh at the fact that he actually responded to that.

“I didn’t take anything that strong.” You frowned, rubbing your forehead. If so, what the fuck did that?”

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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