#west coast is receiving so much love

[audisive]

♪ LET THE LIGHT IN.

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the mixture of love and hate is a dangerous, but ghost is no stranger to danger.

tags: angst, little bit of comfort, enemies to lovers (?), ghost is a blind bastard as well as stupid, mention of being suicidal (but not really), hate is mistaken for love, mention of unconsented touching

     Hate is a familiar word, ever the old friend. Strong and heavy. It's what fuels him and keeps him going – his strength, both a blessing and a curse. Hate, hate, hate. Ghost hates you; you drive him to hell and back with your word until the thin line between hospitality and hostility blurs and he steps over the other.

There's an old red monster that constantly crawls under his skin, corrupting his brain and his heart. Hatred consumes him at the sight of you. Ghost hates you. At least that's what he thinks.

Fleeting gazes are mistaken for heated glares, tensed jaw an unbreakable habit. There's a fire in his loins when your eye catches his at the right time. Ghost's heart speeds up because you make his blood pressure rise. His guts are twisted and turned to your accommodation without knowing, you're in his thoughts constantly because you're so awful.

Love and hate is black and white, color him blind. There's a fine line between the opposites, and he's ambivalent about you.

Of course he respects you; you're his teammate, – a remarkable one, at that – and he will trust you with his life and his heart in your hands, but as much as possible, he would prefer not having to.

Maybe ye're just no' inta women, LT. It's not that he hasn't considered it; can't help that he stares a little too long at anyone with bright blue eyes as engrossing as— Fuckin' 'ell, Johnny. Or perhaps his own were too dull, too icy, too bland. He lacked his sergeant's passion for nearly everything. A'm just pullin' yer leg.

Oh, but how Simon loves you.

Simon is familiar to you the same way the desert is familiar with the scorching heat of the sun, and despite how it warms you, kisses and burns and scars you, you miss every bit of it – the way he hurts you comfortingly. Loving him feels like snow meeting sand, – unfamiliar and impossible – but if snow can fall on the hottest desert, then who are you to be exempt?

Acknowledging the difference between love and hate is one, admitting that he doesn't feel the other way for you is another. It's not love; you're just part of the team. He repeats the mantra when his fist collides with the face of a man who made the mistake of touching you despite your lack of consent.

Your knuckles are split, sir. He repeats it to himself again when he's forced to sit with his thigh pressed to yours and feels the warmth of your skin against his. I can take care of m'self next time, Ghost.

I know, kid. It's not love. Not when he hushes you instead of yelling and barking orders at you as you bleed out on the floor of the warehouse. "Ghost," you plead for your life, weeping and gasping for air. Your voice breaks. His heart does, too. "I know, lovie. I know." It's not love. Not when he carries you singlehandedly in and out of the chopper, rushing to the medical ward before you can even lose consciousness. Not when he tends to the knife on your side before the bullet in his.

"Sure, the lieutenant isn't much for words, but the way he looks at you..." The knowledgeable (or maybe she just likes gossip) nurse trails off, searching for the right words in the back of her mind. "It's like there's no one else in the world but you – no, actually, he looks at you as if you're the world itself – he looks at you like a god, his. In a way that guarantees anyone that he'd live and repeat the horrors of this life in his next, just for you. And I've never seen him look at anyone like.. that. But now, I see him looking at you. Everyday."

She smiles at you, kind enough to continue. "Don't you think you deserve that kind of dedication? The kind that makes you feel like you're the center of someone's universe?"

You find yourself stunned by her words, your lips parting in the slightest manner. Speechless. She finds more words in your silence. "'Cause I think you do. You do deserve that," she smiles at you knowingly, as if she'd read your fate – as if the stars had told her all there is to know, "and something tells me he could give you exactly that." She's sure of it. 

But Simon is only the ghost of a Ghost. He's fleeting, a glance, a graze, and a kiss.

Too early, too much, not enough, too late. He'd used up every excuse like a box of tissues until he had none, until he'd been left high and dry, until he had no choice but to admit it: he's in love with you in a way that is looked down upon. Desperately, longingly, and horribly so.

If your love was a noose, then Simon is a suicidal man. He wants your love to dig into the skin of his neck, and please take his breath away.

The image of you leaving was embedded into his brain, the same way he had burned the image of you into his mind long ago. His tongue dries with the words and pleads of love, but he thinks he doesn't. So he doesn't. He wants to call out to you – say something that might cause you to pause and turn around, maybe take him with you – but the words don't come, and you leave, taking his heart with you. 

There's a longing that aches beneath his chest, an empty space.

All of the words in the world will not change the reality that he pushed himself into. Life has moved on without the two of you. He has so many things to tell you, but now is not the time.

He calls for your name.

Your breath hitches at his voice before you speak, "good night, lieutenant." You open a barrier between you and him just as you open the door, taking a step out of the seemingly unlived small apartment. His chest is unmoving as an unfamiliar feeling shoots through his veins. He should say something, anything. Say something, bastard.

With lowered pride, his mouth opens just a second too late. He hears the door click shut.

It never will be.

  divider by @cafekitsune !

[puck-luck]

patchwork hearts | nico hischier

warnings: unprotected p in v, chatgpt-level swiss german (since google translate doesn’t have swiss german. only regular german. f u google translate), angst i guess (argument), make-up sex, pretty vanilla all in all, oral f!receiving, fingering.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

request: Reader and Nico get into a fight before we leaves for away from away games in the west coast and they make up when he comes back (or while he is away). Request by @hockeygirl1328. thanks queen! sorry it took so long!!

wc: 3,345

The memory of the argument flashes through your mind when Nico’s face appears on your screen. It’s the cuddliest photo you’ve ever taken of him, scruff in full form and hair messy, but that still doesn’t improve your mood. Just before he left for this road trip, you’d gotten into a massive fight about his constant travel. You love Nico, so much, but he’s always gone. It’s your first season together and the adjustment from Summer Nico to Season Nico has been really difficult.

Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t want to miss Nico for another week. He comes home for a few days, then leaves for a few more. The cycle repeats over and over again and there’s not enough time for you and Nico to establish a routine. There’s not enough time for you to even see Nico some days, which is just disheartening. Your boyfriend is basically a half-version of himself and, most of the time, it feels like his only priority in life is hockey. You don’t even rank.

Nico’s words had hurt, even though you know in your heart that he was right. It was just excessive, the way he’d dug his claws into you with only a few words. 

As the phone rings out, you hear the echo of what he said. “You knew what this life was when we got together. I don’t have time for a constant guilt trip every time I leave!”

“I didn’t sign up to be an afterthought,” you’d fought back.

“Not everything is about you, you know,” Nico snapped. “The world doesn’t revolve around you– my world doesn’t revolve around you.”

His eyes had grown immediately wide and his jaw had dropped, like he couldn’t believe he just said that. You couldn’t believe he’d said that. The argument ended immediately– only because there was nothing you could muster up in reply. 

You hadn’t broken up with Nico for the mere statement, although you’ll admit that it crossed your mind. Instead, you’d sat in place as Nico’s many apologies fell on deaf ears. You felt almost catatonic as he’d kenlt down in front of you and tried to gauge your reaction, touching your knee with a gentle nudge. He’d wiped away the tears that leaked from your eyes, even though you’d tried to turn away from his touch. 

You’d slept over that night because you hadn’t felt you were able to move. The shock kept you in place. Nico had tucked you into his bed and relegated himself to the couch. When you woke up and you’d finally felt able to move, ready to face the boy, he was gone. There was a note on the door and a message left on your phone, both of which said roughly the same thing: that Nico was sorry he had to go, but he couldn’t stay. You knew why, of course. It was time for his California roadie. As much as you felt like an afterthought at times, you aren’t unreasonable. You know that he has to travel for his job. 

You’re still hurt, to be fair. No matter how many times Nico apologized after dropping that bomb, it continues to cut at you and pop up in your mind whenever he calls. You’ve answered twice over the duration of the roadie, but the conversations had felt stilted and forced. After the last call, just over a day ago, Nico had asked if he could come over to your apartment and see you when he got back. 

You think that he was calling a moment ago because he made it back to the Prudential Center and would be driving to your place soon. Your palms are a bit sweaty knowing that Nico is on the way. You don’t want to fight with him again and you have a feeling that he doesn’t want to fight either, but you know it’s not resolved.

You take the time before Nico arrives to calm yourself. You get a glass of water, you grab a handful of your favorite snack, and you sit on the couch to watch a bit of TV.

He calls again a few minutes later. This time, you answer.

“Hi, Nico,” you greet, voice quiet.

“Hi, I’m downstairs,” Nico says. “Just wanted to let you know I’m here before I come up.”

“Okay, Nee. I’ll see you soon.” You pull the phone away fom your ear and end the call, standing up to unlock your front door. You return to the couch and when he knocks, you call out to tell him that it’s open.

Nico comes through the door and toes off his shoes. “How was your day?” Nico asks, coming over to the couch to join you. 

“Not bad. I went to work and the gym and then I came home,” you reply. You attempt a smile at Nico when he sits on the couch and circles his fingers around your ankle, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “How was California?”

“I missed you,” Nico says. “It was hard to focus on the games when I was thinking about you. I’m sorry I left after the fight. I wish I hadn’t needed to go. I wanted to stay and make things better.”

The breath leaves your chest in a deep sigh. “It was unfortunate timing.”

“I know,” Nico agrees, nodding. “It gave me a little time to think about what to say to you, which is nice. I know I can’t really make up for what happened last week, but–” Nico takes your hand and grasps it. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t a priority for me. You are. You’re a huge part of my life and I wouldn’t be anywhere without you, supporting me and cheering me on and being there for me every day. I’m sorry I wasn’t more considerate of your feelings.”

You almost want to cry again after hearing him spout this heartfelt apology. Nico sits in front of you and waits, blinking patiently and chewing on his lower lip while you take in his words. The lines under his eyes are deep and you can tell that he lost sleep over something this past week, likely this incident if his words have any truth to them. You nod and reach forward, cradling Nico’s face in your hands. “I’m sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt,” you tell Nico. “I know you can’t help that hockey is such a big part of your life. I know you don’t mean to put me on the backburner. I just felt a little neglected and I’m sorry that I accused you of making me an afterthought.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize because of how you feel,” Nico says. He slides his arm down to your waist. “I was caught up in everything else in my life and didn’t give you the attention you deserve. I never want to make you feel that way again.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I know you won’t.” You lean in and press a chaste kiss to Nico’s lips. After kissing him, you shuffle forward and tuck yourself against his chest. 

Nico pulls you onto his lap and cradles you there, kissing the top and side of your head. He touches as much of your body as he can, rubbing your back and your arms, your waist and your thighs. You breathe together, leaning against each other, and taking in the presence of the other person.

“Please let me show you how much I love you,” Nico requests after a few minutes, caressing your sides and looking at you with his big, brown eyes. “And how sorry I am for acting like I don’t care. I care, babe, I care so much.” He drops a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek. “Please.”

You don’t reply, but you turn your head and find his lips. You touch the scuff on Nico’s face, which he seems to have shaved over his roadie, but it’s starting to grow back. His hair is at risk of being deemed “too long” in his own opinion, so you touch the strands reverently, knowing that they’ll be gone sooner than later. 

“Let me take care of you,” Nico murmurs, dipping down to brush a kiss over your jawline. 

“Okay,” you whisper back, touching the side of Nico’s neck and the curve of his bicep. 

He fits his strong palms under your thighs, lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to distract Nico on his walk to the bedroom. You might still be a little sad about what Nico said a week ago, but the apology worked well enough that you’re trying to let it go. 

Nico lays you on the bed, kissing down your body and undressing you as he goes. His touch is loving, almost overwhelmingly so. He removes his shirt and settles between your legs, kissing from your calf to the inside of your knee, up your thigh and all the way to your hip bone. 

The only sound that fills the room is the shared sigh of relief when Nico connects with your core. As his tongue flattens and licks a stripe up your slit, Nico’s eyes flutter shut and his hands fix on your hips to pull you closer. 

Ninety percent of the time, Nico gets ravenous when he’s eating you out. Today is different. 

His tongue trails through your folds. The tip of the muscle traces every inch of your cunt before he even considers pressing closer. Nico takes his time– he savors the taste of your slick. “Mm, liebste,” Nico groans. “You taste so good.” 

He works his tongue against your cunt, licking around the rim of your entrance before flicking further inside. One of his hands comes to your front, thumb contacting your clit and rubbing soothing circles over it. His other hand travels underneath your body and you let out a startled gasp when his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, dragging you even closer.

He’s systematic and precise, kitten licking at your insides. He focuses on one part of your body, then another– in this case, he goes from your hole to wrapping his all-consuming lips around your clit and suckling. 

His index finger finds your entrance and soothes the smooth ring, drawing circles over the outline of your most intimate area before you lift your hips into his touch. You’re silently asking for more and Nico understands that, gently pushing his finger inside. Just like with his mouthwork, he’s slow and attentive. 

The pad of Nico’s fingertip feels out your inner walls, welcoming the hug of your cunt around his digit eagerly and repaying you by trying to find that spot inside of you, the one that always makes you see stars. 

His hair has started to fall messily over his forehead, brushing his eyebrows. You find the strands with your hands, clutching at them and moving his head where you need it to be– for all intents and purposes, you keep him mostly aligned with your clit, but the movement of his head provides a friction that pure suction could not offer.

As you do this, his middle finger pokes at your entrance. The first knuckle disappears inside you with little resistance, then Nico starts to work on opening you up. His fingers scissor inside of you, spearing against the gummy ridges of your muscle, preparing you for his cock. 

You clench down a bit at the thought of his member, pleas for the length on the tip of your tongue. You know Nico is thinking about fucking you too, just based on the way he rolls his hips against the mattress and hums. 

He releases your clit from between his lips, which draws a whine of protest from you. Nico chuckles quietly and turns his head, planting a kiss on your inner thigh. Then, he dips his head and twists his wrist so that his palm faces upward. Nico licks between his two fingers, his eyelids open just enough that you can see how he looks up at you and takes you in. 

Nico draws away from your pussy only to ask, “Chunsch du, schatz?” 

He’s teasing you, plucking at an inside joke from when you felt you were brave enough to try to learn Swiss German. Thinking it would be sweet, you’d tried your hand at talking Nico’s native tongue in bed, but your words had just seemed too formal. Still, it’s something you can laugh over. Nico loves to parrot your effort at “Are you coming?” back at you, always smiling fondly when he does.

He’s worked his tongue back between his fingers, looking up at you with raised eyebrows. He waits for you to answer his question, sure to bump his nose against your clit when you open your mouth, so that you produce a moan instead of a sentence. Nico giggles at his little joke, cheeks dimpling and eyes crinkling. He brings his mouth to your clit and kisses over the bud, steadily pumping his fingers to really bring you to orgasm.

You whimper when he works a third thick finger into your entrance, stuffing you full. You know it’s necessary since his cock is also thick, but there’s a dull ache at the first stretch that has you writhing on the bed. 

“I know, I know,” Nico soothes, lathing kiss after kiss to your sensitive center. “But I have to get you all open for me, baby. So you feel good later, hm?” He bends his knuckles and comes into contact with your sweet spot, the rush of pleasure making your back arch involuntarily. Nico notices this and grins, eyes determined and set on continuing this feeling for you.

Your noises grow more slurred with each touch of his fingertips to your walls, especially when he flicks his tongue rapidly over your clit. He’s still teasing you, dangling the climax just out of reach with the way he’ll overwhelm your clit with his tongue and then slow down, licking flat stripes along the parts of your slit that he can reach. 

“Nico,” you lament with a frown when he pulls away again, just as you were about to come.

“Sorry,” Nico apologizes with a crinkle-eyed smile. He captures your clit and keeps his mouth there, beckoning his fingers and creating a vacuum around the bundle of nerves at the apex of your vagina. This time, he doesn’t let up– he goes and goes and goes until your hands have found their way back to his hair and pull so hard that there’s a stinging sensation along Nico’s scalp.

He allows his eyes to drift shut again, free hand dancing up your body until he finds your tits, finally giving them the attention that he feels they deserve. With a few harsh gropes, a pinch or two to your nipple, and even a tug at your chest, you’re unraveling over Nico’s digits and making your situation very well known to your neighbors.

“Bravo, süsse,” Nico praises over the heaving of your chest. He stays in contact with your center, but slows his movements to something that keeps you teetering on the precipice of pleasure rather than in the throws of it. “Do you think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you rasp out, reaching for Nico and catching him by his biceps. You coax him forward, palms sliding up to his jawline. You lick over the seam of Nico’s lips and taste yourself already, the flavor of your cum only growing stronger when Nico parts his lips and slides his tongue against yours. “Fuck me, Nico.”

“Mm, hase, I’m not going to fuck you,” Nico corrects. “I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to take care of me.”

While you were ready to protest the first part of his statement, your mouth quickly snaps shut when he finishes speaking. You lay back against the pillows, propping your head up, and you bring Nico with you. His body blankets yours, shifting atop you as he tries to remove his bottoms with one hand. His other roams on your torso, stroking the curves of your sides and stomach.

“So schön,” Nico murmurs.

“So beautiful,” you repeat, thumbing over his cheekbone. 

Nico reaches between your bodies and lines himself up with your entrance. Just like before, he moves slowly. He moves with purpose. You can feel every inch of Nico’s length as it sinks into you. 

When you roll your head back to let out a soft moan, Nico seizes the opportunity to paint a series of open-mouthed kisses on your neck. “I love you so much,” he mumbles against your skin. He rolls his hips, filling you further. “So much.”

“I love you too,” you reply, hands scrambling for purchase on the expanse of his back when Nico’s tip brushes against the cartilaginous wall of your cervix. He knocks against that wall again on his next thrust forward, only drawing out about halfway before snapping forward suddenly. 

Regardless of how he fills you, his movements are still tinged with reverence and tenderness. Nico holds you like something that will break under the pressure of his fingertips, but he’s still desperate to keep you close. He’ll let his hips fall flush with yours and remain there sometimes, then other times he’ll roll and snap his hips like your lives depend on it. 

You know that there was once an argument between you, but all that matters is the fact that Nico is here and he’s doing exactly what he promised he’d do: take care of you.

His hand finds your arm, then trails up to your wrist. He presses your wrist into the cushion above your head, but doesn’t stop there. He brings his fingers up to your palm, tracing over the lines that represent your love and your life. He slots his fingers between yours and intertwines your fingers, holding your hand tight as he continues to thrust into you. He repeats the same process on the other side, until both of your hands are wrapped in his. He pins you to the bed, but you feel only safe and secure, not trapped in the slightest. 

“You’re so tight around me, baby,” Nico says, ending his statement with a kiss. His voice is low and rough, breathless and nearly spent due to the tango you’re performing now. “Gonna fill you up, fill you ‘til all of my love is dripping out of you.”

You were already overwhelmed, but when he said that– and then nibbled your bottom lip after– you feel a dam break inside of you. You come suddenly and without warning, jaw dropping. A high keen falls from your mouth, only to be met with a coo from Nico and a deep grunt as he continues to fuck into your even tighter entrance. 

The squeeze of your cunt around Nico’s cock is enough to make him come too, the white spurts of cum filling your hole just like he’d promised. You can feel Nico trembling a bit from the aftershocks, your chest meeting his as you arch up into his touch and he deflates from exhaustion. He covers you just like a warm comforter and kisses you lazily, both of you wanting to stay connected after such an intense reunion.

You feel satiated, calm and happy that Nico came to you when he returned instead of going home and basking in the misery of the argument from a week prior. You certainly feel better now, after having gone through the throes of that low point in your relationship.

“Mm,” Nico hums, like he remembered something suddenly. His head tilts and he kisses along the crook of your neck. “During the break in February, I thought you’d like to come home with me. We can have a little couples vacation at home, just you and me. How does that sound?”

“Amazing, Nico,” you tell him, smoothing his hair beneath your fingertips. “That sounds amazing.”

note: read a stoner!nico fic recently that Cece reblogged and I tweaked. thinking of y'all! i think you'll see nico a lot sooner on this blog than you expect... perhaps a little "nico x ____ x reader".....

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, slight verbal ab*se

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

A/N²: I am not a medical doctor. Please, forgive me if my knowledge of any of the mentioned medical conditions is incorrect.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Walking into the room, my heart was crushed even further. All of the feelings I wish I could explain; I couldn't. Terry and his bags were gone. I hadn't even heard him leave. He didn't even care enough to at least say goodbye. After all these years, I wasn't worth a goodbye. Two seconds just solidified that this relationship wasn't worth any more of my energy.

I couldn't understand it. How did we get here? Had he always been like this? Was I that blind? I guess I was so busy trying to find love that I forgot the most important rule— love wasn't supposed to hurt. Then again, every version of love I've experienced was painful, manipulative, abusive, and damaging. So, maybe I found what I was familiar with. I mean, why else would I be so comfortable putting up with this?

But, what do I do now?

*2 hours later

The room was covered in crumpled and torn pieces of notebook paper. I have tried and tried to write this letter. My hands were stiff, and my head was throbbing. I just wanted him to know how I felt because my mind was already made up. I'm done, and this is over.

If he would've just listened, we wouldn't be in this predicament. If he hadn't said those words, there would still be hope in my eyes and love in my heart.

Better yet, fuck this and fuck him. He doesn't deserve a letter. This doesn't concern him anymore. I've already changed my flight for tomorrow morning. I leave on the first flight out. Since I no longer have anything to say to him, there is no need to wait. I can return to the West Coast and be at home with my Godmother and Godsister when I receive the news.

*The next day

“I will never like flying’. I don't care!” I said stepping out of the bathroom after showering. I was dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain black T-shirt. I had wrapped a scarf around my head to protect my hair during my shower.

My Godsister, Shante, was waiting for me. She was relaxed on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her satin black bonnet and black fluffy robe made her look so much like her grandmother. “What?” she asked turning her head towards me. “You look like Nana Elsie!” I laughed into my hand. “Shut up!” she said slinging one of the pillows at me.

I walked to the bed and sat on the edge closest to me. I was tired. I knew why she was in here. She wanted to make sure I was okay. Honestly, I wasn't. My life was shit right now. Leaving Terry was just another stab to the heart. All I could do was pray to God that I didn't lose anymore. I couldn't possibly see myself being any lower than this.

“You wanna talk?” Shante asked rolling on her side facing my back. “Not really, I just wanna wait until they call,” I said solemnly. My shoulders were beginning to feel heavy again. I didn't want to think about what the doctor would say. I already knew this day was coming.

After years of medical neglect and misdiagnoses, I was finally given a proper diagnosis of both endometriosis and PCOS. I had been ignored for years when I complained of a forever-growing mountain of signs that something was wrong. I was told to “lose weight” to alleviate my symptoms. When I lost the weight, nothing changed. Some symptoms even seemed to get worse.

I had grown tired of all the referrals and guesses. I had explained to my original primary care physician years ago that I suspected that I had PCOS. It was dismissed as anxiety and medical hysteria. I tried again with three other physicians to be met with the same fate— try to lose weight, take this metformin, exercise daily, change your diet, etc.

This could have been treated years ago if someone would have just listened.

*3 hours later

I was in the kitchen eating when my cell phone rang. I picked it up thinking it was the call I had been dreading. I was eager to get this over with. Just say it, and let's move on.

“Hello, this is Bella,” I mumbled into the phone. I was on the edge again. Trying my hardest to breathe and stay calm. “Bell, where are you?” asked Terry. “Terry?” I asked pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it. Fuck! Why didn't I look before answering? Why didn't I block him?

“Bella, I'm s—,” he started to speak before I interrupted him. “Save it. I… I don't care anymore,” I said through tears. “Bells, I was—,” he started again. “No,” I said sobbing into the phone. “Could you just—!” he yelled into the phone. That was it. I didn't have to deal with this. I hung up the phone and laid it on the table in front of me.

Pushing the plate away, I laid across my arms crying with my head down. My Godmother and Godsister were both gone to work. That left me alone once again with my emotions— all of them.

ring ring ring

Not again. I picked up the phone in anger. “I don't want to talk to you!” I screamed into the phone. “Isabella? It's Dr. Moore. We need to speak about scheduling your surgery immediately,” he said in a startled tone. “I'm sorry, Dr. Moore. I'm having a…,” I said taking a deep breath. “I can call back if—,” he said. “No!” I blurted out. “Sorry. Please, tell me now,” I whimpered. I was flying between emotions faster than my body could manage.

“Well, honey. I'm sorry to bring you such bad news at this time, but we're going to need to remove your left ovary. The cysts were quite large, and… Unfortunately, the biopsy indicated they were cancerous. The safest option is to remove the affected ovary and all endometriosis deposits. Later on, we can discuss any further changes,” he said. “Changes?” I questioned while sniffling. “If it progresses any further, we may have to perform a hysterectomy.” Dr. Moore continued to talk, but I had dissociated from the conversation. This was it.

My mind was overflowing with questions. Will I be able to have kids? Would this even get rid of the cancer? If it did, would it come back? Would life ever be normal for me?

I don't know. I'll probably never know.

*Later in the day

ring ring ring

Hours had passed since the call ended. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. I had planned my whole life around me and Terry's relationship— kids, a house, a minivan, a dog, all of it. Now, everything was gone. Maybe my mother was right, I am cursed.

ring ring ring

“Who is it?” I sobbed into the phone. “It's me, Bella. Baby, can you please just listen to me?” Terry pleaded over the phone. “Why, huh? What’s there to listen to? You said everything you needed to say,” I yelled. All of my feelings were being overshadowed by my anger.

“I didn't mean it, Bella. That wasn't supposed to happen. I love you. You know that!” Terry yelled. “I don't know that, Terry. If you loved me, you wouldn't have said it. You meant it with all your fucking heart. You stood on it when you left without saying a word. No goodbye. No sorry. Nothing. That's not love,” I blurted out. I was beyond tired of holding my tongue. “Stop being so fuckin' childish right now and use your brain. You're always so damn emoti—,” he said cutting himself off. “Nah, say it! I'm too fucking emotional, huh? Ain't that right, Terry?” I screamed again. Tears were streaming down my face falling onto the kitchen table.

“I’m always sick, and… and I'm… I'm always emotional. That's what you… that's what you said, right? THEN, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WITH ME?!” I screamed as loud as I could. I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. Good. No more phone calls. No more doctors. No more — Terry.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther

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[paper-mario-wiki]

What is your favorite bar from the myriad of good bars from Kendrick Lamar involving drake, i.e. Euphoria, Meet the Grahams, & Not Like Us?

note: when I say "Drake" I mean the constructed pop star. when I say "Aubrey" I mean the human being and actor behind the narrative that is "Drake".

Euphoria my favorite bar from this track is the whole "I'm the biggest hater" refrain. i like it because that singular section alone completely obliterated Taylor Made Freestyle. by paraphrasing the late DMX's famous quote about Drake, he is demonstrating how you can respectfully and powerfully use words from the mouths of dead predecessors to discredit your opponent, further showing how much of a stupid tactless clown-show popstar-turned-con-artist Aubrey Graham is in using the AI mockery of Tupac's voice to taunt Kendrick, the current voice of the West Coast and-- to many-- the people's successor to Pac.

6:16 in LA with a slightly lighter tone than the other disses, i consider this song to be a person to person sit-down and final warning to Aubrey that Kendrick is willing to provide. he explains that OVO is full of moles and wires, Aubrey is being hustled with nobody on his side, and going as far as saying "you can't sleep, these images trouble you" hinting at the fact that he would be going after Drake's personal failings that he thinks about when he goes home at night and stops being Drake. which he totally did in meet the grahams. also, bonus points to my favorite rhyme scheme in the song, just cuz it's so much fun to say:

Your lil memes is losin' steam, they figured you out The forced opinions is not convincin', y'all need a new route

like, what a perfect little two-bar rhyme scheme.

meet the grahams in this song, the most powerful lyrics to me (and the ones that usually make me start tearing up) are the ones where Kendrick stops being sorrowful and starts being angry.

You a body shamer, you gon' hide them baby mamas, ain't ya? You embarrassed of 'em, that's not right, that ain't how mama raised us Take that mask off, I wanna see what's under them achievements, Why believe you? You never gave us nothin' to believe in

this reminds me of every traumatic scolding i ever received as a child. i think that the word "disappointed" isn't strong enough to convey the feeling here. something closer would be "let down", because Kendrick's whole thing recently has been peace and uplifting people. he was willing to tolerate the competition for the game, but there were so many times that he warned Drake to not mention Kendrick's family. ultimately, in this stage of their careers, what they were fighting for was not fame or power, it was their legacy. they were fighting over how they were going to be remembered, and Kendrick was not about to let his pacifism make him passive in watching someone pretending to be a part of his culture stain how he will be written about in the records of Hip-Hop history. in specific, i love the line "take that mask off, i wanna see what's under them achievements" because he is BEGGING Audrey to respond honestly, as himself. he is begging him to cast off the facade of "Drake" and speak with any amount of dignity, because at this point there was no more room to speculate on whether or not he actually was who he claimed to be with regards to his music. at this point, the consensus was pretty thoroughly in the camp of "the actor Audrey Graham has been co-opting the image of the American Rapper for his career".

Not Like Us i think i love the bar "he has all eyes on me and imma send it up to Pac" because it goes back to the core of what this is about to Kendrick in fighting for legacy. the media, specifically the white dominated media, sucks the culture (that is to say, Black culture) dry for all it's worth monetarily, and in the process there have been many twisted caricatures or unfair narratives left in the wake of black creatives who are no longer alive to defend their own names. there's an entire tangent about how tabloids disproportionately affect black creatives due to the very fact that white supremacy discounts the respect these names have to the (largely un-melinated) higherups in hollywood, and as a result there is less PR dedicated to keeping their image clean, but i think im not qualified to go off on it. the point is, Drake disrespected Pac's legacy (and continues to do so by owning his ring, really, instead of having it be in the possession of someone who's at least from the west coast), and Kendrick wanted to put some honor on his name. he made sure that he was not just mentioned in the shameful (Taylor Made) and angry (euphoria) parts of this beef, but also its most triumphant moment.

[thoughtswithbbg]

Yeah, You Are My Home, My Home For All Seasons

Back to Masterlist :: Next

Summary : Kinich hadn’t seen you since you moved back to Snezhnaya to be with your family. Now, only a year later, he finally made his way back to you for Christmas.

Warnings : Fluff, long distance, pure yearning, slight angst, Ajaw in all his glory

A/N : i love kinich so much, sorry this was late guys!

When Kinich heard the words leave your mouth about you having to leave Natlan and him to be home with your family in Snezhnaya, he begged to come with you much to Ajaw’s annoyance.

“Kinich , you can’t come with me..” you sighed, looking at the man who you fell in love with during your time in Natlan. “You have a life here; I can’t take that from you.”

“Why not? I would give anything to come with you, you know that.” He sighed, his head resting on the crook of your shoulder. “I would do anything for you..”

“And I can’t let you do that.” You pulled away from him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips that he quickly reciprocated. “I’ll write you letters every day; we aren’t breaking up I promise. I could never leave you like that.” Your forehead rested against his, your hands intertwined together.

It broke Kinich's heart to see you walk onto that boat, it crushed him. But even after the five years you both had spent away from each other, he never stopped loving you. Consistent letters flowed between you two, and Kinich longed to be with you.

It was 2 weeks before Christmas when his Archon finally gave him permission to leave to Snezhnaya to see you.

"Archon are you sure?" Mauvkia wasn't stupid, she could see the longing on Kinich's face clearly anytime she saw him. As much as the Nation of Dragons needed Kinich, she knew his lover needed him more.

"Yes, you have to go Kinich," She gave him a warm smile, "I can see how much you long for her, we'll be just fine while you're gone." He could never thank his Archon enough for letting him travel to Snezhnaya and vowed to be forever loyal to whomever the Pyro Archon maybe.

The boat ride was long, as Snezhnaya was not the closest nation in the world. Once he arrived though, he underestimated how cold it would be. How you were able to stand it, he had no clue.

Over the five years you have been exchanging letters to each other, Kinich only received the location to your house in Snezhnaya once. It took him forever to find that exact letter, but he made sure to take it with him. You lived on the west coast, only a couple miles from the port. He began to make his way across the snowy land of Snezhnaya before he finally found a house that looked like what you described in your letters.

He knocked on the door, praying he got the right house. A small child opened the door and Kinich faltered. The little girl looks exactly like a tiny version of you. A million thoughts passed through his head as he just stared at the tiny human before him.

"Lyra? Who's at the door?" He finally snapped out of it when he heard your honey voice from inside the house. You came to the door and Kinich saw your face almost light up in shock and joy.

"Kinich?!" You ran forward and jumped into his arms, and he caught you with ease. You hadn't changed. You hadn't moved on. You still loved him. Those thoughts passed through his head as his grip on you didn't lighten up at all. He captured your lips in a hurried and eager kiss filled with all the longing he had for you.

"EWWW SISSY IS KISSING SOME HOBO!!" Lyra ran into the house, shouting all the way to alert any other people in the house. You sighed at your little sisters' antics, before dropping yourself out of Kinich's arms.

"Come in Come in," you made way for him to come into your house, the warmth of it making his cold chills vanish instantly. "I missed you, so much Kinich." You hugged him again, only to have a small force from inside his coat push you away.

"OH YEAH? AND WHAT ABOUT ME PEASENT!?" Ajaw in all his glory flung himself out of Kinich's coat in an instant, pointing his tiny dragon claws in your face accusingly.

You laughed, much to Kinich's annoyance and Ajaw's joy. You gave him a small peck on the cheek and watched as his face heated up instantly. "HUMAN HOW DARE YOU DEFILE K'UHUL AJAW THE ALMIGHTY DRAGON LORD!!"

A small hand tugged on Kinich's coat, and he looked down to see a small girl. "Um, can I play with your dragon mister?" Knowing she was talking about Ajaw, Kinich agreed and set Ajaw off to with the little girl, smiling at her joy to have a new toy.

"KINICHHHH HOW DARE YOU!!" You could hear Ajaw's shouts and cries from the other end of the house as your little siblings tortured played with the "dragon lord".

"Would you like to help me decorate the cookies?" You spoke to him, and he felt himself smile as he remembered how much he missed your cooking."

"Of course," He followed you to the kitchen, thinking along the way of how to make you his forever.

[vampmorgue]

𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨 𝐔𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

series masterlist

Chapter 1: Promises

📖 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:

𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 red 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐬 purple.

⚠ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: 18+, afab reader, kook!reader, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe, ghostface!rafe, dark themes, toxic relationship, mentions of addiction, manipulation, jealousy, guilt tripping, love bombing, anxiety mention, profanity, [ smut: unprotected piv, dry humping, oral fem receiving, fingering, edging, slight face fucking?, handjob, missionary, cowgirl, overstim, praise, breeding & choking kink ] mentions of blood, slight gore, knife use, murder & death.

📑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.7k

🦇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: it’s here!!! it’s also the way i was supposed to post this in the summer but then got unmotivated then got back on it and it’s perfect for the season now, happy october! anyway i’m so excited about this mini-series as i have loved the scream franchise for years so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it. (this is also my first attempt at writing smut and actually posting it, but we all start somewhere so hopefully it’s decent.) let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist !

💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @assi-me-issa @darkscrossfire @mounthings

©𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩/𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞.

Ever since you got accepted into your dream university on the West Coast, you had a weight lifted off your shoulders, at least a little bit of it.

Your family and friends were all happy and excited for you to achieve your dreams that were coming true, except your boyfriend, Rafe who didn't seem too fond of it even if he said he was. There was only a month left until you had to leave for university, and it's been recently that you thought of breaking up with Rafe. As fucked up as you felt it was, you had your reasoning.

Before issues started, Rafe had given you a promise ring after you graduated high school, and you did see yourself with him as everything seemed so beautiful at the time if you put aside the bad parts beginning to worsen as you and Rafe had spent the entire summertime together meaning you had little time to yourself. Your reasoning for breaking up with him other than a long-distance relationship; Rafe's addiction was worsening then after a couple of tries of helping him was a fail and him treating you worse than ever, and your intuition was feeling weirder every day, you started questioning yourself if you wanted to be with someone like that, but when you took time to yourself while Rafe was away for a little while on vacation with his family, you discovered yourself more and needed to put yourself and dreams first. You couldn’t let anything get in the way of that just like Rafe and his problems were starting to affect it by distracting you. He had graduated a year before you, so you would’ve assumed he had his life figured out already, especially with the kind of father Rafe has, but he didn’t.

You told Rafe to come over as you wanted to tell him in person how you felt. He agreed to it since he wanted to spend more time with you before you left, even though he hated thinking about it, despising it even. Rafe never expected you to leave him, although it was a fear he had.

“Why did you start to think that us parting ways is the best idea?!” Rafe asks you with offense in his tone.

“Because it is!” you protest, “It’s always been my dream to go to school on the West Coast, and I want to focus on that— my career, everything!”

“We can make it work!” Rafe insists, “I can’t believe you want to throw away three years just like that?”

“That was never my plan, Rafe.” you say, “But as the day gets closer… I can’t see us together. You refuse any help on your addiction which is getting worse, and you know that. We’re both going on two completely different paths. We wouldn’t work— most long-distance relationships don't work."

“This is fucking bullshit,” Rafe mutters to himself, slamming your bedroom door shut and leaving your home.

This wasn’t over, even the relationship, and you knew you two would have to talk again, but you didn’t know when. You sigh as you sit on your bed running your fingers through your hair. A part of you felt awful and guilty, and the other part felt relieved to say how you felt toward him; it was like the knot in your stomach was finally detangled, but not completely.

Arguing with Rafe was exhausting enough, no matter how much you had tried giving out you're reasoning in whatever you two would go on about, but your boyfriend always had to have his way.

𖤓

The next night, to your surprise, he had called you first, but Rafe usually held in a grudge for more than a day, so you wondered what had changed if any change at all.

“Hey,” Rafe says through the phone.

“Hi, Rafe,”

“Listen I... I’m sorry about yesterday,” he apologizes, “I just think you haven’t thought it through enough… I love you, Y/N.”

You felt sorry not only for yourself but for him, too. Your gut telling you one thing, but your heart was telling you another. You started to fidget with your promise ring, but you couldn’t take it off nor return it, and it’s not like Rafe would accept the ring back because he wouldn’t and more than likely would never, and a cloud of confusion was surrounding you. Maybe giving him a chance couldn’t seem to hurt you as much as you thought it could.

“Just come over so we can talk things out,” you respond, rubbing the side of your temple.

And with that, Rafe didn’t hesitate and was over within ten minutes. You had texted him to let him know that the front door of your home was unlocked and to head over to your room.

You heard footsteps approaching and saw the door opening with Rafe behind it with slightly red eyes and dilated pupils. Perhaps he was crying as your initial thought while also in denial that he was high, but you were afraid to ask as you wanted the night to end up good and both sides happy and not lose sleep due to your boyfriend's issues. Anxiety was running through you as it made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Look, I’m sorry about last night,” he continues, “I-I shouldn’t have walked out like that, but I also should’ve listened to how you felt.”

“Yes, you should’ve, Rafe.” you express, crossing your arms.

“Y/N, I’m just worried, okay?!” Rafe gestures with his hands.

“About what?”

“You,”

“What about me?”

He sighs as he’s already frustrated with the conversation, “Your safety… you’re on the other side of the country. How will I know you’ll be okay at all times? I can barely even visit you on top of that— it’s just messing with me, okay? I-I don’t know how I’m supposed to cope with this. I need you to tell me how to cope."

“You’re proving my point exactly.” you imply, playing with your ring, “I knew you wouldn’t take it well, and I’d rather you focus on yourself, especially on how much pressure your father is putting on you about the business.”

“Hey! I didn’t come here to talk about that, alright?” he snaps quickly but stops himself from getting even more angry. “Sorry, bad habit…”

“So I’ve seen,” you nod, taking a step closer to him, “But this is both of our futures we’re talking about.”

“I got mine figured out.” he shrugs in denial, “I just need you to figure out yours, that’s all.”

You chuckle in disbelief, “I’ve already told you mine, Rafe. I suggest you listen to your own advice like do you even hear yourself right now?”

"Y/N, I can't imagine my life without you when you play such a big part in it." Rafe vents, “How are you going to be okay there all alone?”

“I can take care of myself just fine, but I won’t be alone,” you mention, “My best friend, Axel got accepted there, too, remember?”

His eyes narrowed at the name you had just mentioned. "Yeah, I remember." He didn’t like that.

Rafe had always shown jealousy towards your best friend, Axel, ever since you two started dating. It wasn’t much of a problem until Rafe had spammed you with calls and texts then confrontations in the end when you were out with Axel more than you had planned to.

He felt as if he were to lose you to someone or something then he knew a part of him would die. He couldn’t bear the thought, even just living in the reality of it and his worst nightmare seeming to come true.

"Please, just give us a chance. I want to make this work out for the both of us," he begs, taking your hands with his and rubbing the ring.

“I’ve given you chances before!” you acknowledge.

“But this time is different! I promise!” he pleads with desperation written all over his eyes.

"And you’ve made promises before that weren’t kept!” you exclaim, pulling your hands away from his.

You felt stuck in the situation. You wanted to cry out of the stress and frustration because it felt like choosing between Rafe and your future, but was Rafe a part of your future or not?

“I won’t break another this time, I promise.” he went on, “This is going to be different, okay? I never want us to be apart…”

His words made you feel a little uneasy, but you didn’t know what to do at this point.

“Let me think about it, please,” you insist, wanting to be left alone in your thoughts, “Just go home and get some rest.”

He nods but then hesitates to leave, “Can I at least show you that I do love you?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you agree to it anyway, “Yeah… sure,”

Rafe grabs your waist and pulls you into a kiss to show you that he’s missed this and you especially. After the tension near the end of summer, you and Rafe weren’t as intimate with each other as you both were before, except now everything was slowly coming back as it once was. You kiss back, and you’re surprised at yourself but mostly content.

He lays you onto your bed slowly as he goes down your neck with kisses and marks you. One thing about Rafe is that he was always going to make sure the hickeys were always visible. He tugs off the end of your shirt and looks at you for permission, and you nod, but he needs you to say it.

“I need to hear you say it, baby,”

“Yes, go on,” you answer.

Rafe lifts your shirt off as you take his off too and reveals that you’re not wearing a bra, no complaints though, he loves it. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” his eyes scan you and his hand travels to your breast, squeezing one as he marks the other making you whine. He was still on top of you and went back to kissing your lips, caressing your neck slightly, and gripping it while grinding himself on you as you felt him getting hard through his clothing. Rafe was eager, but so were you. Perhaps you were missing the feeling of being wanted by the other, maybe it was driving you into that stressful mindset earlier, and maybe you just needed to get fucked; it has been a while.

His arousal was turning you on even more, but you already wanted and needed more of him. “Please… I need you, Rafe.”

“I’m all yours,” he assures while getting up and pulling down your shorts and lowering his head, giving kisses to your inner thighs. He wraps his arms around your thighs and goes down on you with his tongue swirling around your clit and sucking harshly. Two of his fingers enter inside your folds, going in and out at a slow pace only to tease you while his cold rings add to the sensation. “Go faster,” you say.

Rafe does as you say while he devours you as if he is craving you, which he is. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, arching your back as you grind against his mouth. He smirks at the look of your satisfaction. He continues while his other hand travels to your breast, squeezing it, and you lay your hand upon him while you run your fingers through his hair on the other.

A vibration was going through your body as you felt your climax reaching, “I’m close,” you mention and Rafe stops, “Why’d you stop?” you question him with the disappointment that was clear in your voice.

“I’m not just stopping there.” he laughs softly as he unbuckles his belt.

“Wait,” you pause, “Do you have a condom?”

“If I knew this would happen, I would’ve,” he admits.

“Whatever, I’m on the pill, anyway.” you grab his face and pull him down to your level kissing him again and his tongue enters your mouth.

Rafe started stroking himself as he already was dripping with precum, but you take over by teasing him by palming the tip, and then stroking him as he’s massaging your swollen clit with his hand while you start stroking him faster to tease him back from earlier which caught him by surprise in a good way. “Aw, fuck, just like that,” he catches a glimpse of the way your acrylic nails looked so pretty as you’re stroking him, “I’m paying for your next set just so you know.” He pecks your lips.

“I need you… now.” you whine, and he quickly adjusts himself, “You ready?” he smirks.

“Yes,” you respond, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He starts slow at first so you can get used to it again and wait to give him the okay to go faster. “Tell me if it hurts, it's been a while,” he reassures, and you nod.

Rafe grips your hips as he thrusts in deeper and deeper, “Okay, go faster,” you confirm, and he fastens his pace making your body feel euphoric. His grip on you was so strong, but you were numb to it as the pleasure he was giving you was taking over. “H-harder!” you demand, moaning in his ear.

“Fuck!" he swears in between his moans and lets go of your left hip to put a grip on your neck slightly choking you and looks into your eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself right now, you look and feel so fucking amazing.”

Your smile in pleasure as you dig your nails, leaving scratch marks on his back from how fast and hard, he’s going. Rafe didn’t mind it though, it added to the fun, and it felt good to him as well.

“I-I wanna ride you,” you confess as you’re catching air and Rafe slows down. “Did you say you wanna ride-”

“Yes,” you confidently reply.

Rafe asks again, "Are you sure? You've never done that before, it might hurt."

"But I want to now," you reassure him, and he softly kisses you and happily switches positions with you to do so.

You forget how big he is as you're readjusting yourself until you're comfortable since it's different from your point of view then you ride him slowly to start. “You can take it. I know you can,” he grins.

Rafe squeezes your thighs and your hips then holds on there as you start going faster, he could’ve came right then and there but wanted you to do so first. In his world, you’ll always be his priority.

“Mhmm,” you moan with your eyes rolling back as you feel your g spot being hit perfectly making you moan again so loudly that you were so glad you had the house all to yourself tonight, “Holy fuck! You’re doing so good, beautiful, so good.” Rafe praises you and pulls you into a hug while you’re still riding him, he stuffs his face between your breasts with kisses traveling to your neck and sucking harshly creating more marks, and you’ll look bruised by the end of the night.

At this point, you start seeing stars and feel your high coming, “I’m close!” you cry out.

“So am I, you want me to fill you up, huh?” Rafe teases, “I’ll gladly do so, I’d do anything for you, I promise you that.”

You spill all over him as he fills you up right after which awakens something in you to keep going. Rafe is caught off guard, but it feels so good, “Awh, f-fuck,” he doesn’t want you to stop but his stamina is running out.

“You can take it,” you smile as you mimic the way he teased before and you take his hands to your breasts massaging them.

He whimpers at his overstimulation causing to you smirk, “Come on, I thought you said you wanted to fill me up? You can do it one more time for me, I know you can.” you tease, and once he hears that, he does as you both mentioned feeling the warmth spilling out.

“That was fucking amazing and so were you,” he says as you lay down next to him, catching your breath.

“Back at you,” you kiss him and he grabs to the tissues on your nightstand to get you cleaned up.

Rafe smiles and pulls the sheets up to you both to keep you from getting cold.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, too,” you add, “I guess a lot was going on, it added to the stress.”

“You don’t need to apologize, I’ll always be here when you need anything, even if it’s just my company. I promise.” Rafe reassures, pulling you into his arms.

“Thank you,” your eyes lighting up at him, “I love you, Rafe,”

“I love you more,” he kisses your forehead, “Get some sleep, it was a long night after all.”

You chuckle and close your eyes, feeling safe in his arms.

𝟏:𝟎𝟔 𝐀𝐌

Rafe woke up nearly forgetting where he was but smiled to himself when he saw you still silently asleep in his arms. He looks at the alarm clock on your nightstand and sees the time. It's not as late as he thought it was, but Rafe had a plan before coming over, and that was to get rid of someone or something that stands in the way of your relationship with him. The first one was your best friend, Axel.

It was the perfect night to do as your parents were on a trip with Axel's parents which meant he was also home alone. The adrenaline was rushing through Rafe as he quietly got out of bed trying not to wake you which wasn't much of a problem since you are a heavy sleeper. He gets dressed and makes sure to turn off his phone since he had no intention of bringing it with him and hides his phone in a dresser you have and makes sure to put it on the bottom with clothing on top of it to hide it.

Rafe nearly swears out loud when he remembers he can't go out the front door nor the back doors since your phone and your parent's devices get notifications of the doors opening and closing. Luckily for him, he snuck out through your bedroom window which is the same window you used to use to sneak out of. He successfully made it to his car and drove it down to the destination he needed to be at l, Axel's house.

Arriving at the house but far away enough to not be seen, Rafe remembered about the costume hidden in his trunk, he had a plan. It seemed silly at first to wear one, but he wasn't planning on getting caught, although the thought of recreating one of his favorite movies was exciting to him. Imagining the people, he hates suffering in agony had brought a type of satisfaction to him, but now there was no more imagining it; he was bringing it to life while a life pays for it to be seen by his very own eyes.

There Axel was peacefully painting a new art canvas. He was going to major in art, but why did it have to be the same university as you? That's what Rafe's problem was. His house was built with lots of those types of windows where anyone could easily see anything. Rafe had already put on the black cloak and the mask with a knife ready in his hand and hid where there were no windows then he pulled out a burner phone he had prepared with the voice changer to give Axel a call.

"Hello?"

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

"That's so original, isn't it?"

"If you wanna talk about something original, you're speaking to the original."

"Alright, listen, man, you got the wrong number. Nice impression though, bye–���

"If you hang up on me, I'll smear your own blood on that canvas you were painting!"

Axel's heart drops and looks around the windows outside, but he sees nothing except the pitch-black night.

Rafe laughs at the silence knowing Axel is scared for his life.

"What do you want from me?"

"I'm not asking for much only just your life."

Rafe sees he's next to the electrical panel and cuts the wires making all the power go off.

"Stop fucking with me, man! I'll call the cops."

"Oh, I don't they'd have enough time to get here, you do live in the middle of the woods." Rafe grabs a large heavy rock with his hand, "Besides, you'll be dead by the time they get here." 

Quickly, Rafe throws the rock to a window to distract Axel and runs to the other side where a door with a glass window that he needs to break to unlock the door.

Rafe succeeds in breaking into the house and hears Axel in another room swearing to himself.

"Shit, this can't be happening," Axel shakes as he tries to find something to defend himself with while Rafe is in the kitchen and throws a glass cup to the living across from him where he saw Axel painting earlier just to see if he'll move.

Axel tries to run out the front door but Rafe sneaks up behind by stabbing him in the back and then putting him in a chokehold before he starts stabbing his chest and stomach multiple times making Axel scream in agony, but he fights back throwing himself backward with Rafe to the wall of glass picture frames and making them both fall to the ground as glass shatters everywhere. Rafe quickly gets up and looks down at Axel who struggles to get up by slipping in his own pool of blood. Rafe kneels to him as he watches him suffer in his own agony and waves his knife around.

Rafe starts swinging his knife again but misses and slices the bloody canvas instead when Axel flips over his body to avoid the knife. This angers Rafe even more to which he wipes his knife with his gloves then stabs the knife onto a wooden table, and grabs Axel by the collar of his shirt making him face the mirror then grabs his knife again and points with it. "Take a good fucking look because this is the last thing you'll ever see before you die," Rafe scowls in his normal voice.

"R-Rafe?' Axel struggles to say before Rafe sliced his throat open and is left there to bleed to his death.

[curiouslilbird]

Western NC Is Not Okay

Cell service, phone lines, roads, and other infrastructure have all been damaged or destroyed, especially way up in the highest elevations.

Loved ones who live here may or may not be able to send or receive messages.

Many places out here are unrecognizable from what they looked like just a few days ago.

Most families are without power, and panic buying of food and fuel have already started.

Many restaurants and grocery stores are either running out of food, are without power themselves, or have been damaged too much to function.

Many are fleeing east to Gastonia, Charlotte, and further toward the coast, where power is more stable and food is at least a bit more reachable.

Out where I am, about an hour west of Gastonia, I was lucky to find a friend with power so I can use my CPAP and charge my phone. Lots of people like me are relying on cell phones as their sole source of communication, but with cell towers messed up and hilly terrain, even that is spotty at best.

I am doing better than most. My house is undamaged as of now, our cars work, and I am in a safe shelter with power, but even so, I am still worried about being able to access food and gas once our small supplies are gone. We're currently limiting driving to emergency measures only, but here in the south, public transit is simply not a thing...the closest train station, for instance, is an hour away in Gastonia. Biking is also not safe with all the downed trees and power lines, plus just the sheer distance between places and the lack of bike lanes and sidewalks in general.

As car and gas dependent as we all are, not being able to buy gas anywhere reasonably close is a huge problem. I sure hope deliveries of gas can be made to this area soon, because that makes finding food much easier. I don't have any problem driving the 50-60 miles to Charlotte to find food, but it will become an issue if I sit in heavy traffic and lose my little supply of fuel that way.

Honestly I know I personally underprepared for this storm, but I also had no idea how bad our infrastructure is without power and gas. Everything's electronic and now stores have had to go back to cash only...which meant we drove 2 hours around yesterday trying to find a working ATM and/or a store that took cards. At least people are being fairly gracious in stores so far, but desperation can quickly change that.

So, yeah...WNC is not okay, and because of the conditions, a lot of people can't even get the word out. I'm one of the lucky ones with a working cell signal and relative peace to be able to communicate, and I have the hope of being able to go home to an undamaged home within days. (I don't know yet how vain that hope is....both weather flood warnings and power outage advisories keep being pushed back.)

In any case, travel to or through WNC in the next few days/weeks/months is basically a no-go, especially for places like Asheville and Boone. Down the mountain where we are, things are a bit better here, but it's still a developing situation. Hoping for the best. 💞💔💞

[strawberrysands]

If you’re willing to, could you please write a blurb of Spencer Reid being cute and clingy to fem!reader while he’s drunk? Like they’re dating and the team goes out for drinks to celebrate a case or smth and Spencer is super hammered and being all clingy and loveydovey to reader? You’re writing is amazing and you seem super cool so tysmm❤️❤️

Drunk - a Spencer Reid blurb

A/n: hi anon! First of all, thank you so much!! You made my day 😭 <33 anddd i hope this is something along the lines of what you wanted, enjoy!

Pairing: spencer reid x reader

Word count: 500-ish

Warnings: talk about alcohol (everyone is above the legal drinking age), Spencer being a fluffy baby

"God, I'm so glad this case is finally over." Prentiss groaned.

"I second that." You said, taking another sip of your drink.

The case had been exhausting; you had to travel all the way to the west coast and the case lasted a full two weeks. Now, to celebrate, the team had decided to go for some drinks.

Spencer, who was already a bit tipsy, grabbed you hand and intertwined your fingers under the table. You offered him a soft smile and gently squeezed his hand, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. You forgot the fact that you were sitting at a table full of profilers so you looked confused when you saw everyone smile your way.

"What?" You asked, while Spencer stroked your hand with his thumb.

"Nothing." JJ said innocently, grinning at you.

"You and boy genius over there are being cute, that's all." Morgan said and you could feel your face heating up. Spencer couldn't handle the embarrassment and hid his face in your neck, groaning, which made the whole table say 'aww' at his reaction

"Anyone want a refill?" You offered in order to break the tensions, and everyone nodded, making you wonder how the hell you were gonna carry 7 drinks back to the table. Luckily, Spencer came to your aid.

"I'l come with." He offered with a sweet smile.

He wrapped an arm protectively around your waist on the way there, making you chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere, Spence."

"Shut up." He grumbled, kissing the top of your head.

"Aren't they the cutest?" Garcia said, having watched the whole thing from the table.

"They sure are." Derek agreed, happy that his two best friends are so in love with each other.

You brought the drinks back to the table and took your seat next to Spencer again, who almost immediately put his hand on top of your thigh.

"Someone's clingy." You said quietly, nudging him.

"So?" He said with puppy eyes, kissing your cheek.

"Get a room, guys." Rossi joked at which he received Reid's middle finger. To further prove his point, he went full for your lips. The whole table groaned which made both you and Spencer smile into the kiss.

"So, when are we getting a baby genius?" Hotch asked smiling.

"Oooh, yes please! I love babies!" Garcia exclaimed, tipsy. "And you guys too!"

"Baby girl, you ship these two way too hard." Derek laughed.

You kind of zoned out of the conversation, feeling Spencer rest his head on your shoulder. You would never admit it to anyone, but you thought he was absolutely adorable when he was drunk. He made you feel ways you had never felt with anyone before. He made you feel safe, like you didn't have to pretend with him. You could just be who you were and not worry about it.

"I love you." He whispered into your neck, placing a kiss there.

You smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"I love you too, Spencie."

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

A/n: reminder that you're loved and you're doing amazing!

[a-roguish-gambit]

So my west coast ass just had what's apparently Cajun seafood. Now I wanna see something like Gambit and Rogue teaching the other X men how to crack heir own crab legs and eat mudpuppies and those kinds of things

It made me feel like a zoo animal receiving enrichment but I was way too hungry to want to go through all the effort I was going through to get some food

Welcome to the world of cajun cuisine, mon frer!

Theres so much to love! Jambalaya, poboys, hush puppies, etouffee, banana foster, beignets, gumbo, andouille sausages, bread pudding etc….

You’re in luck! I was working on some art of the mini mutants enjoying some cajun style chocolate delight!

[mamaestapa]

im hearing adam absolutely going to town between your thighs 🫡

Just Like Candy|| Adam Fantilli x reader

• pairing: adam fantilli x reader

• summary: adam can’t resist how sweet you taste…

• warnings: SMUT! oral sex (female receiving) adam takes readers panties off with his teeth-AHA. hair pulling, praise, i think that’s all

“Oh-fuck,” you whimpered out breathlessly as your boyfriend kissed your inner thigh. One of his hands was hovered over the wetness between your legs while his other gripped your hand tightly. Adam chuckled against your thigh, placing one more sweet kiss to the skin before he came up to capture your lips in a sweet chaste kiss.

“Mmm,” he hummed into the kiss, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you more Adam.”

Your boyfriend had been away on a three game road trip to the west coast. You wanted to go along with him, but as much as you loved your boyfriend, school and work came first. Since you couldn’t make it, Adam made sure to come see you as soon as he got back in Columbus.

“I missed your soft lips…” he trailed off as he kissed your lips again. He kept his bright blue eyes on yours, a playful smirk on his face as he brought his head back down between your legs.

“Missed these thighs.” Adam left a trail of gentle kisses along your inner thigh, the feeling of his touch sending chills through your body.

Oh how you missed this…

“But most of all I missed your sweetness. I missed how good you taste, beautiful.” Adam lined his face up with your dripping core, eyes growing dark with lust as he eyed the wet spot on your light pink panties. He wet his lips as his mouth watered from his imagination running wild with thoughts of your sweet juices overwhelming his taste buds.

He needed to taste you right now.

Adam kept his blue eyes locked on yours as he bit down on the waistband of your pink panties. He slowly started to pull the fabric away from your waist. You lifted your legs slightly, giving him just enough room to slide pull your panties down your legs with his mouth. Adam wet his lips and looked like a starved man as he stared at your aching, dripping womanhood. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as your boyfriend ripped your panties out of his mouth and threw them off to the side where his hockey bag and pre-game suit was thrown. Adam lowered his head back down to your dripping core, wasting no time in instantly lapping at your glistening folds.

You threw your head back, moaning out Adam’s name in pleasure as he lapped at your soaking core all for him.

“Fuck Adam.” you whimpered out as Adam ate you out like a starved man. He had been away from you much longer than he wanted, so he wanted to savor every moment he could between your thighs.

Adam chuckled against your folds, the vibration sending what felt like an electric shock through your body. Adam brought his hands up to your thighs, keeping your legs spread open as he buried his tongue into you, lapping up all of you while his tongue hit your clit and made your toes curl. Adam moaned against your core as the taste of your sweet juices hit his taste buds.

The sounds of your whimpers and the slurps of your boyfriend’s mouth as he savored your sweetness filled your bedroom. You bucked your hips as Adam sucked at your clit, the feeling of his tongue and the vibration of his moans had you feeling overstimulated in the best way possible.

Head from Adam was something you’d never get tired of.

"You taste amazing, baby." Adam praised as he took a hand off of your thigh, “So sweet. Just like candy…” He placed a hand over your aching womanhood, letting his thumb rub circles against your clit as he continued to lap at your soaked core. The feeling of both his tongue and fingers brought you closer to your climax. You bucked your hips slightly as Adam’s movements quickened. His jaw clenched with each swipe of his tongue and the muscles in his forearm flexed with each stroke of his thumb. Your chest heaved as Adam licked a stripe up your core, making sure every last bit of your arousal his hit tongue.

“That��s it beautiful. You sound and taste so sweet. Keep it up for me.” Adam praised. He knew how much you loved his praises in the bedroom.

You brought your hands down to the back of your boyfriend’s head, gripping the ends of his dark hair as you pushed him closer to your center. Adam panted against you, feeling your walls clench around his tongue as you grew close to your release. You let out a whimper, feeling the coil in your belly threaten to snap if Adam’s tongue kept up the pace. You were getting so close from the way the your chest rose and fell and how your hips were bucking every time Adam’s tongue swirled over your clit.

“Adam,” you whimpered out in a pant, “so close. Please…”

“Cum for me baby. Let me taste you, all of you…”

You let out a few more whimpers, moaning Adam’s name in pleasure as you felt the familiar warmth in your lower belly. Soon enough, your chest was heaving as it all came crashing down and you were overcome with complete pleasure and bliss. Adam lapped up your juices with his tongue, pulling his face away from your soaked core once he was satisfied with how he cleaned you up. He licked his lips dry, making sure to get every last drop of you into his mouth.

You laid back against the mattress, chest heaving up and down as you came down from your orgasmic high. Adam laid down next to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you laid down on his chest.

“Addy,” You breathed out. The nickname you gave your boyfriend made him smile softly as he started stroking your arm. “That was amazing.” You finished. Adam chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “Yes it was. Don’t need dessert anymore after that.”

You craned your neck up to look at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “ And why’s that?” You inquired as a smirk pulled at your lips from his playful tone.

“Because baby,” he smirked, “You’re just like candy, you’re so sweet.”

hi loves!!

AHHHHHHH my first time writing for adam! i love him i love him🤍 will definitely be writing so much more about him. he’s such a cutie!

i hope you all enjoyed this, i know i did. the thought of him going to town between the thighs…WHEW😩 that’s all i have to say

more coming soon loves!! thank you for being patient with me as i get these blurbs done and out for you guys. after the issue i had last night i didn’t think id finish these blurbs because i was SO MAD at myself lol. BUT i knew i couldn’t leave you babes hanging…it’s a slow process, but at least im getting some done :) but thank you for your patience!🤍

[lias-writings]

West Coast & bathroom

18+ MDNI!!

summary: your best friend, roommate and dealer. the one and only, ellie williams. everyone knows her, everyone buys from her ’cause she has the best weed on the whole campus. you agreed to go on a party where your friend want to set you up with other girl, but ellie doesn’t seem to like it at all. what could go wrong when you agreed to dance with this girl? (dealer!ellie x fem!reader)

warnings: usage of weed, mention of drugs, smut, fingering (r! receiving), praise kink, slight degradation, dom!ellie x sub!reader, pet names (baby, pretty girl, etc.), mutual pinning, no use of y/n,

a/n: hii!! after a long time im back with another fic, this time ellie x reader. hope you’re gonna like this one, it’s my 1st smut ever soo….enjoy!! ♡. (disclaimer: the pictures are NOT supposed to describe reader, just couldn’t find that much race neutral and sadly 90% of these on Pinterest are white girls :()

it wasn’t a secret, that ellie williams, was a drug dealer. it wasn’t also a secret that you were her best friend.

your story begun at the junior year at high school. ellie just changed school ‘cause her former teachers didn’t like her ‘problematic behaviour’ so her adoptive dad Joel decided, it would be better for his daughter to continue her education somewhere else.

you, being one of the best students, were chosen to give her a tour, and introduced ellie to your classmates.

few weeks later you found yourself hanging out with her almost every day of the week. and this continued till nowadays when you both are at the same college, sharing one dorm.

you were just sitting on your bed, just thinking about how it all happened, how you met jesse and dina, oh and ellie, mainly ellie. she was constantly on your mind since you met her. at first you thought it was just a silly crush, but years later you realised, you loved her way more than she thought.

for the last months ellie has been really flirty with you, you thought it was just in a friendly way but it was upsetting you, thinking she doesn’t feel the same.

little did you know that she did fell the same about you, she was just too scared of loosing you,so she rather fucked every other girl on the campus. ellie built herself some reputation over the time she spent fucking around and now when she wanted to do something about it, it might have been too late.

“come in, the door’s open” you yelled after hearing a knock on the door.

“hey, girl” dina, one of your best friends greets you, while stepping into the room. she kicks of her red converse, and basically jumps on your bed to hug you.

when dina notices you’re unusually silent she furrows her eyebrows. “babe you need to stop fucking crying over ellie, i love you both, but she clearly isn’t seeking a relationship so put on that hot dress you have in your closet, and come with me to that party and we’re gonna find you someone who’s gonna treat you better, you know sophie? the masc third year? she’s been eyeing you up since last year” you listened closely to your friend, but the more you were thinking about it, the better it sounded, maybe a little distraction wouldn’t be so bad and dina was right. it’s time for you to move on and find yourself someone who’s gonna treat you right and who know, maybe it’s gonna make ellie jealous a little bit.

in a tight mini dress (you choose the color), heels and light make-up that complimented your face, you entered a house near campus. it’s not that you’ve ever been there before, but it’s the address, dina texted you. stepping in the door you looked around and saw a lot familiar faces. you saw your classmates, you saw jesse at the catering table and then ellie, she was sitting on the couch, man spreading and she was talking to some guy, probably selling weed to him, and before you could start admiring her hands and outfit ofc but also hands, you were trapped in a hug by you brown haired friend you were talking to earlier that day.

by the time she let go of you, her boyfriend jesse, was standing next to her, telling her to move so he could get a hug too. dina quickly grabbed you wrist and guided you to the drink table telling you, that sophie is keeping an eye on you ever since you stepped in the doorframe.

what non of you realised is was the fact, that ellie wasn’t sitting that far from you and overhearing you conversation, made her blood boil.

she knew that the only person, she should’ve mad at was herself but the jealousy was stronger. today was the day when she wanted to confess to you, ellie saw the party as a perfect opportunity, but no, you just had to start pinning over another girl.

when sophie finally decides to walk up to you ellie just let’s out an annoyed huff, rolling her eyes, she lights up her joint and inhale. she watches you closely and her hearing just blurs, when she finally notices, how fucking beautiful and sexy you look. the dress, showing all your curves, and your plumped pink-ish lips smiling at sophie’s words.

ellie felt her anger build up on every giggle you let out at sophie’s ‘lame’ jokes and her eyes widened and she almost coughed while exhaling when she saw you two hand in hand going to the dance floor. she saw the way sophie was looking at you, and there was nothing more ellie wished, than to be at her place.

you knew she was watching, you saw how her jaw clenched and how her eyes darkened with anger. you weren’t sure what you were doing, but you enjoyed sophie’s presence and when west coast by lana del rey started playing, you moved your body even closer to hers and put your arms around her neck, while she rested hers on your hips.

once the song ended you excused yourself, just for a few minutes because you needed to use a bathroom. ellie knew this is going to be her only shot or she may never get another chance ever again, so as soon as you went up the stairs, she went after you.

you were now in the first floor of the house trying to find a bathroom, once you found it, you knocked on the door (just in case) and when just silence was you answer you opened the door and before you had a chance to lock it, you heard a familiar voice. “wait,wait,wait,wait!”

“ellie?” you asked more yourself and opened the door. ellie quickly bursted into the bathroom, closing the door with her foot, and then locking it, so she could make sure, no one will interrupt you two.

“ellie, what are you doing here?” you put your hands on your hips and raised one eyebrow. you were leaning against the cabinet opposite the door, waiting for her answer.

she slowly took few little steps so she could be standing closer to you, just as sophie did, few moments ago, but in her presence sophie was the last thing on your mind. “i’m so sorry, pretty girl, it was stupid to act this way towards you i should’ve had told you long, long time ago”

“should’ve told me what, ellie” the way, her name rolled off your tongue, made her go crazy. she rested her palms on the wall behind you so your head was trapped between her arms, and your eyes were glued to hers. felling her hot breath on your cheek made you feel dizzy.

“that i love you, so fucking much” it was almost a whisper she let leave her lips with a relieving sigh, before she kissed you. she fucking kissed you. you wanted to push her away and list to her all the things she’s done wrong, you really did, but this was stronger than you, so you gave up and kissed her back.

the kiss was soft, romantic almost, filled with all the emotions you two felt for each other. when you ran out of oxygen, you had to pull away, but your foreheads were still touching. “i love you too” was all you could mumble before your lips were connected in a kiss again. this time it was different, more rough and hungry, you felt ellie’s tongue brushing against your lower lip, begging for an entrance. you parted you lips and your pink muscle was immediately met with the auburn haired girl’s one. in a matter of seconds a sweet kiss turned into a hot make out session.

suddenly ellie patted your upper thigh signalising for you to jump, you did and moments later you found yourself sitting on the cabinet with your legs parted so ellie could fit between them. you felt you heat getting wetter and wetter every second and when ellie brushed her knee against you clothed clit, you moaned, into her mouth.

“fuckk” ellie breathed out when she finally m pulled away from the kiss. “baby, i don’t wanna do nothing you don’t-” “ellie, please” you whined, needy for her touches. “please what, pretty girl? huh? tell me what you want, go on” you knew she was doing it on purpose, teasing you with her words, while lazily rubbing circles on your inner thigh. “ellie….i need you to touch me, please.” a smirk appeared on her lips as you threw your head back, thirsting for her touches on the certain place where you wanted her, the most.

“don’t worry, baby, i got you, ‘m gonna do everything you need me to, ‘y just have to be patient sweet girl.” ellie said in low voice, that made you head spin and heart melt.

she rolled you dress up a little bit, so she saw the wet spot on your soft, pink laced panties, that matched your bra. she cursed under her breath. “fuck baby, i barely touched you and your already so wet?” she would lie if she said it didn’t turn her on even more.

you threw your head back and let out a loud moan when ellie started teasing your cunt through the thin fabric of your underwear. suddenly you heard a sharp sound of the material getting ripped and when the cold air hit your heat you immediately knew what probably happened.

“i’ll buy you a new one, i promise” ellie muttered when she noticed your huff. “ellie…” you pouted desperately. “relax, pretty girl” she simply whispered to your each, she started, sucking, bitting and licking spots, on your neck and whenever you let out a sound she took a mental note.

after she was praised enough with her work on your upper chest, neck and shoulders she smiled proudly. “now, everyone gonna know that you’re mine, only mine, you understand?”

“yes, ellie” you were dripping in wetness and all you could think about was wanting her inside you already. “good girl” she praised you and then you felt her fingers teasing you clit.

“fuck-ellie” you were moaning her name like crazy, and wasn’t even in you, yet. “just like that, baby, let everyone hear you”

what she started pushing her two fingers into your hole, you thought you’ll cum just right there and then. she was pumping them in and out and you were a moaning mess. “you’re so wet for me, pretty girl. or do you think that anyone could fuck you this good? what about sophie, huh? I bet she’d love to what a whore you’re f’me, ‘y want me to call here?” she asked in a mocking way. “please, no-fuck, fells s’good els-only you!”

ellie, continued to fingering you, and the closer you were to reaching your climax, the louder you were. “gonna- fuck- cum, els” you whined and your body started to shake. “yea? you think sophie could fuck you this good? y’ think she’d make you come this hard?” now she’s holding your chin in her free hand, squeezing your cheeks together a little. “no-fuck..only you els!!” you screamed, and a hot tear rolled down cheek.

“my good fucking girl, now cum f’me, baby”

the praises made you reach your climax faster so you came all over ellie’s fingers, your legs still shaking, from the pleasure, you vision’s blurry ‘cause of the tears and your head’s dizzy.

“y’ did so good, baby” she said as she kissed you on your forehead “now let’s get to our place, shall we?” she suggested, with a smirk on her lips, knowing god damn well, that everyone heard you.

[pascallftv]

Dad’s Best Friend (Pedro Pascal x Reader)

summary: as a retreat from your busy work life, you decide to stay with your dad and his best friend for a few days over the holidays. to your surprise, your dad’s best friend is much hotter than you anticipated. one night after the three of you play a drinking game, pedro waits until your father goes to sleep to make his move on you.

warnings: SMUT! oral (m & f receiving), edging, dom!pedro, dirty talk, some choking, rough unprotected sex, anal play

MY MASTERLIST

You never thought you’d be this excited to be back home. Since you’d moved to California, you had constantly been overwhelmed with work. You were thoroughly exhausted, and a short vacation back home was just what you needed to recharge your battery. As much as you loved the fast pace west coast lifestyle, you longed for the quiet of the midwest. You grew up in a rural area in the midwest, but moved to the city when you were a teenager after your parents split. Now your mother was off in Europe with a much younger man, and your father lived with his best friend in a quaint town house. Your dad had always sworn that if he never found his soulmate, he’d move in with his best friend, so that’s exactly what he did.

Your dad moved in with his best friend Pedro a couple years ago when they both decided they were tired of searching for replacement wives. You’d never met Pedro before, and had only heard stories about him through your father, and from what you could tell, he was a bit of a man whore. After him and his wife divorced, he fell into a routine of bringing home different women each weekend. When they moved in together, his habits didn’t change; your father said he’s sure there’s a mini Pedro running around somewhere that he doesn’t know about. Pedro wasn’t interested in dating, let alone having children. So at the age of forty-seven, he was living with your father with the tendencies of a horny, college boy.

You were sitting comfortably on the sofa of your dad’s living room with some sort of soap opera playing on the tv. You hadn’t realized you were zoned out until the front door swung open, and Pedro marched through the door, holding two handles of liquor. A wide grin was plastered on his face as he scanned his eyes around the house for your dad, but instead his eyes landed on you.

“I didn’t know you were here already.” Pedro said, setting the bottles of alcohol on the dining room table, his eyes still locked on you. You sent him a lazy smile.

“Got here this morning.”

“Well, I came prepared.” Pedro winked, gesturing towards the bottles on the table. “Figured we could play some drinking games to get to know each other better, maybe watch a movie or two.”

You simply smiled again. He was much more attractive than you’d imagined. You’d only seen fuzzy pictures of him on your father’s Facebook, and those did not do him justice whatsoever. No wonder he was pulling so many women.

Fast forward to that evening, and the three of you were sitting at the dining room table with a deck of cards playing ‘bullshit’. However, every-time someone lost, they had to drink. You were already pretty far gone, and your dad and Pedro weren’t far behind you. Your cheeks were red hot and sore from laughing, and the alcohol was only amplifying the heat in your body. You kept catching yourself gazing over at Pedro. You couldn’t help but admire his smile and laugh, it was intoxicating. You were convinced he would be an arrogant prick, but he was truly a pleasant person to be around. You couldn’t tell if you were only imagining things, but you could’ve sworn you kept catching Pedro staring at you too.

“You’re fucking cheating!” Your dad exclaimed, throwing his cards down on the table. Pedro was laughing uncontrollably.

“No, you just fucking suck at lying.” Pedro proclaimed through his laughter. He was absolutely kicking your asses at this card game.

“That’s it, I’m going to bed. I’m too old for this shit.” Your dad surrendered, running his hand down his face. He stood up from his chair and stumbled over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Goodnight, kiddo. Love you bunches.” He slurred, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll see y’all in the morning.”

Your dad saluted you and Pedro and stumbled his way to the stairs and out of sight to his bedroom. You bit your lip and smiled over at Pedro who was sporting an amused smirk.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not tired yet.” Pedro declared, stacking up all the cards scattered across the table. You handed him your cards and sighed.

“Me either, my body clock is two hours behind.” You said, leaning back in your chair.

“Want to watch a movie? Maybe the Hangover?” Pedro suggested, standing up from his spot at the table. His jeans were tight against his thighs, his button up shirt riding up slightly exposing his happy trail. You gulped, averting your eyes before you looked too long. But Pedro had already caught you staring, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Sure.” You said, following him to the living room.

Pedro sat on the middle cushion, giving you only two options to sit, and either way you’d be almost touching. You sat down beside him, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to lay over both of your laps. You stared at Pedro’s hands as he flipped through the tv settings to find whichever streaming service he was searching for. There was something so attractive about his hands, and your mind began to wander down a dangerous path. You envisioned his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing at the sides of it. You swallowed hard, pressing your thighs together and the sudden heat growing between them. Little did you know, Pedro noticed your body language. He could feel the attraction radiating off of you. You were so fucking gorgeous, and here you were squeezing your thighs together in arousal all because of him simply existing.

He pressed play on The Hangover, setting the remote down on the coffee table in front of you. He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head, and coming down to rest an arm behind your head. Such a cliche move, but somehow it affected you like you were a teenager again. Your heart was thumping against your chest so loudly that you swore he could hear it. You hadn’t realized you were so fucking touch deprived that you were desperate for you father’s best friend. Your thoughts were running wild again, and you fantasized about Pedro bending you over the dining room table. You pictured his hand running up the bare flesh on your ass, spreading your cheeks in front of his eyes so he could admire your holes that were desperate for him touch. You yearned for him to fuck you senseless, making you scream his name, hoping your father wouldn’t hear.

You were already drenched under your shorts. Your core was lit on fire, throbbing so hard that it was painful. Pedro side eyed you. You wouldn’t stop fidgeting; you kept adjusting your legs, and you were playing with your fingers in your lap trying to distract yourself from the longing between your thighs. He smirked. He loved the effect he had on you. He didn’t even have to try and you were an aroused little mess beside him. He slowly moved his arm from behind your head to rest on his thigh. He slowly tapped his forefinger, deciding whether or not he should act on his desires. You were his best friend’s daughter. He wanted more than anything to bend you over the couch and slam into you until you were drenching his cock, but every alarm was going off in his head. Did he want to risk losing his best friend over a fuck? There was something so intoxicating about you, and it frustrated the hell out of him. There were so many women on the back burner that would throw themselves at him, yet he wanted you. Perhaps it was the thrill of the chase.

He felt himself hardening in his jeans. He cleared his throat, his hand sliding underneath the blanket, resting half on his thigh, and half on the hot, supple skin of yours. Your skin was so fucking soft. Slowly, he moved his hand to fully rest on your thigh, giving it such a light squeeze that you thought you imagined it. If your heart was ready to thump out of your chest before, you were nearly about to have a heart attack now. His thumb began massaging slow circles in your thigh, traveling dangerously close to where you were craving him the most. You began breathing harder, turning your head to look up at him. He stared back at you, his brown eyes full of lust. Your eyes traveled down to his mustache, then to his pouted lips. It was as if a magnet was pulling you towards him, and your eyes fell to his lips, getting closer and closer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pedro whispered, his gaze focused on your parted lips. He squeezed your thigh harder this time, resting inches away from your core.

You say nothing and move even closer to him, your lips millimeters from touching. You could feel his hot breath on your mouth.

“Touch me.” You breathed out so quietly that you weren’t sure he could hear you. You were proven wrong when his fingers traced along the crease of your tights, grazing over your crotch through your shorts. Pedro began breathing harder the closer his fingers got to your waistband. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, traveling down to your folds. You gasped when his fingers spread your folds, gathering up your juices.

“Such a dirty girl. Already so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Pedro teased, ghosting his fingers over your clit that was throbbing with sensitivity. You whimpered at the softest pressure he applied to your bundle of nerves. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, you needed to taste him. You closed the gap between your lips and kissed him hard, trying your best to communicate your lust through the rhythm of your kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his free hand moving to tug at the hair at the nape of your neck. You were driving him insane. He pulled away momentarily to stare at you with hungry eyes.

“Do you know how wrong this is? Kissing your daddy’s best friend while he’s asleep upstairs.” He growled, slamming his lips back into yours while simultaneously slamming two fingers into your entrance without warning. You couldn’t help but moan a little to loud at his intrusion. His hand left your hair to wrap around your throat with a tight squeeze. “Keep fucking quiet. Wouldn’t want your daddy to hear, now would we?”

Your hand traveled down to his hardening erection and grabbed it firmly over his jeans as he fucked you hard with his fingers, a low groan escaping his lips. His hot breath was becoming more frequent against your mouth. He pulled away suddenly, his hand still gripping your throat.

“Can you suck my cock like a good girl?” He muttered, his fingers leaving your hole. You frowned at the loss of contact, but felt yourself throb at the thought of tasting his cock in your mouth. You nodded quickly, moving to get on your knees between his legs. Pedro was panting, his belly rising and falling quickly under his shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans with ease, unzipping his fly slowly. He lifted his hips off the couch to slide his jeans down his thighs, his jeans falling to his ankles. His cock sprung free from his jeans with no underwear constricting his erection.

You leaned forward, taking his length in your soft hand, admiring his size and girth. Your mouth watered at the sight of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You ran your thumb over his arousal, wetting his sensitive tip. You locked eyes with him, lowering down to slowly take his cock in your mouth. You teased his leaky tip with your tongue, swirling it around so you could get a taste of him. Moaning at the salty taste coating your tongue, you gradually lowered your mouth onto his length, soaking him with the mixture of his pre-cum and your spit. His head fell back on the couch, his hand tangling itself in your hair. He whimpered quietly and you began to stroke your hand up and down the leftover shaft that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. With your free hand, you cupped his balls, massaging them in your palm.

“Fuck.” Pedro breathed, sucking in a harsh breath. He gripped the nape of your neck, squeezing with his fingertips. “Taking my cock so well.”

Your hand moved from his balls up to his abdomen, running your fingers across his happy trail. You lowered your mouth even further, filling your throat with the rest of his length. You bobbed your head, the only sounds in the room being the wet noises of you sucking his cock, and his shaky breaths. You moaned on his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch in your throat. You lifted your mouth off his length, bringing your hand to the ridge between his shaft and his tip, stroking in quick milking motions. His legs began to shake, and a low moan escaped his lips. He grabbed your hand, stopping your movements.

“F-fuck, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He mumbled, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up off your knees. He stood up from the couch, pushing you to sit in his spot.

“Take off your clothes.” He ordered sternly, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. He quickly undid them while he watched you strip down to nothing. No panties, no bra. You drove him fucking wild. His cock twitched at the sight of you completely bare in front of him. He stripped his clothes off completely, kneeling where you just were.

“I’m going to taste you, then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t remember your name.” Pedro said, spreading your legs completely open. Cold air hit your folds, your arousal glistening before his eyes. “Look at you. So fucking wet for me.”

He lowered his mouth to your core, spreading your folds open with his fingers, thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance. His other hand traveled to your clit, rubbing soft, quick circles into your sensitive nerves. You gasped, your hand landing in his hair. It took all of your will power to stay quiet. The last thing you needed was for your dad to walk down the stairs to his best friend eating you out.

Pedro thrusted three fingers into you, not allowing you time to stretch to the fullness before finger fucking you so hard and fast that you were seeing spots in your vision. You were so fucking full, but you wanted his cock more than anything. His tongue flicked over your clit, sucking on it lightly while his fingers slammed into you, curling perfectly to the rough surface of your g spot. You weren’t going to last much longer. You slapped a hand over your mouth and whined into your palm. You orgasm was so close.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered through your fingers, locking eyes with Pedro as he finger fucked the life out of you. Your legs were trembling, and your toes began to curl. You were seconds away from reaching your high when Pedro halted his actions, and pulled his fingers out of you. You wanted to cry; you were so fucking close it hurt.

“Did I say you could cum?” Pedro slowly rose from his knees, his hand wrapping it’s way back around your throat. He pressed his lips to yours in a hasty kiss. You whined into his kiss. He pulled away, taking your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “You’re going to cum around my cock like a good girl.”

His words went straight to your core. You were in pain. You needed release so badly. You didn’t have a moment to comprehend what was happening until Pedro slammed his cock into you, your walls spasming around his sudden intrusion. You cried out, grabbing his biceps to squeeze. You were full to the brim, and the oxygen completely left your lungs when you felt him hit your cervix from how deep he was inside of you. He slapped a hand over your mouth, his lips lowering to you ear.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking sound.” He growled, his fingers finding their way back to your clit. His fingers worked in fast circles, your eyes rolling back into your skull. He thrusted in and out of you at an agonizingly fast pace, his tip hitting the deepest part of you over and over again. You orgasm was near, and it was coming fast. You entire body trembled, and you dug your fingernails into Pedro’s toned back. Your face fell into his neck, your teeth lightly biting the supple skin there to refrain from screaming out.

“Are you going to cum?” Pedro breathed out, gripping your hips as he pounded into you. You nodded vigorously into his neck, feeling your vision starting to leave completely. With the nod of your head, Pedro slipped his cock out of you, and his fingers abandoned your clit. Tears began brimming at your eyes. You felt yourself on the verge of a meltdown when Pedro kept you from your orgasm for a second time. Without warning, Pedro flipped you onto your stomach, your knees propped up on the couch cushion, and your arms gripping the back of the couch to steady yourself. He slammed back into you from behind, grabbing your hips for leverage. He didn’t care how loud your skin slapping together was. He knew how terrible the acoustics were in the house, and how thick the walls were. He’d fucked so many women in this house to the point of screaming and your father still never heard.

You cried out as he somehow hit you even deeper than before. Pedro wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name. In that moment, the only things you knew were how deep he filled you, and how perfectly he bottomed out inside you. His balls slapped against your clit, adding to the euphoria you were experiencing. Your nails dug into the fabric of the couch so hard that you thought it was going to rip. Just when you thought you couldn’t be stimulated anymore, you felt Pedro’s forefinger tease your tightest hole. He brought his index finger to his mouth, sucking on it until it was coated with his spit, then brought it back down to your rim, pressing it slowly inside. You groaned out at the foreign sensation.

“You like that?” Pedro leaned down into your ear, his torso laying against the curve of your back and he filled both of your holes. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

You shook your head, lowering your head to bite down onto the back of the couch. You wanted to fucking scream. Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. The feeling intensified when Pedro added a second finger to your asshole, alternating between thrusts there and your pussy.

“Such a good girl.” He moaned out, slamming into you even faster than before.

Your body couldn’t take much more. Your body was trembling, and there was no way hon would survive if you were denied your orgasm for the third time. Your eyes rolled back in your head and a hand reached back to the thick flesh of your ass to spread your cheeks apart, hoping it would bring Pedro deeper.

“God, you’re such a slut.” Pedro growled, placing his hand back to your neck, choking you harder than before. He lowered his mouth to your back, pressing a kiss to your spine. “I need you to come for me.”

His permission was all you needed before you were cumming around his cock, your walls clenching down hard around him, bringing him closer to his orgasm. Your jaw went slack as your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your entire body being set on fire. You’ve never came so hard in your life.

Pedro’s fingers left your asshole and he wrapped his arm around the soft flesh of your belly, continuing to fuck into you with all the energy he had left. Your walls were extremely tight from your orgasm, constricting intoxicatingly around his cock. He moaned as he reached his orgasm, coating your walls in thick spurts. He whimpered as he filled you full of his cum, both of his hands reaching around you to grab handfuls of your breasts, pinching your nipples as he came down from his high.

Your eyes were squeezed shut still recovering for your powerful orgasm. Your body went slack against the back of the couch as tried to recover.

“What’s your name?” Pedro asked breathlessly.

You didn’t answer. You’d heard him, but your mind was so far into the clouds that you didn’t comprehend his question. You chest heaved in heavy breaths.

Pedro chuckled, squeezing your tits once last time before pulling out of you. You whimpered at the feeling; you were way too fucking sensitive. He pressed a soft kiss to your ass as he left you alone to grab a towel to clean you up with. You were still coming down from your high when he returned with a damp towel, and began gently wiping up his seed that spilled from your entrance. You trembled as he touched your sensitive folds, and you whined out.

“Shhhh, almost done.” He whispered, holding the towel there for a moment longer.

When he finished cleaning you up, he lifted you up and sat you down on the couch facing him. He picked up your shorts and helped slide them up over your soft legs, then lifted your arms to put on your sweatshirt. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead then lazily dressed himself, not bothering to button his pants or shirt.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He said softly, picking you up. He cradled you in his arms as he carried you up the stairs, your eyes heavy with exhaustion.

He carried you to the guest bedroom, and held you up expertly with one arm while he pulled back the covers so you wouldn’t be laying on top of the sheets. He carefully laid you onto the mattress, tucking you in under the covers. He couldn’t get over how blissful you looked. Your cheeks were bright pink, and your lips were swollen and plump. He bent down and kissed you one last time before leaving you alone in the guest bedroom. You drifted off to sleep before you could even realize he was gone. Before you knew it, you were waking up the next morning with soreness between your legs and a longing for your father’s best friend.

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love. 

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: so...uh, here it is :D

series masterlist

next part | 02. never hesitating

01. watching, i keep waiting

It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.

They hadn't seen each other since.

However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.

He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.

"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”

“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.

Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.

Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.

"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.

Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.

She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.

It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.

“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”

Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.

A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.

“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.

You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”

Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.

Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.

While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.

Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.

“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”

San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.

Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.

“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”

“Having it out with my dad” She winced.

“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.

Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”

A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.

“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”

Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.

“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”

A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.

“Penny, I’m your only niece.”

“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.

Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”

“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”

“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”

Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.

The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.

Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.

The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”

“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.

“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.

“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.

You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”

“Sold!”

He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.

You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."

You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.

The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”

“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.

The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.

You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.

A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.

You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.

And there he was.

Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.

Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.

The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.

The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”

“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.

The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.

You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.

It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.

Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.

In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?

He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.

“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.

He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.

“How was the last…what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.

He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.

“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.

"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.

“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”

Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.

His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.

“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.

“She’s…She’s sick?”

You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.

“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.

“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.

Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”

He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”

He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”

“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”

“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.

You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.

Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.

“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”

Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.

It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.

[kssyivo]

sides || boynextdoor guitarist!taesan x president!reader

disclaimer: this is a gender neutral fic!! they/them pronouns are used, and the author is rusty lmao

now playing: west coast love by emotional oranges

for others it was an ordinary week of school, but for yn's party, it was preparation week. the day of the campaign was approaching and everyone in yn's party was brainstorming ideas on how to promote themselves.

"we finished with the posters already, right?" the secretary of their party, winter, asked "yeah, the design for the flyer and our presentation are ready, too." wonbin, their vice president, added "any other ways we could promote ourselves?" yn asked for suggestions "i have one" yoon announced

"how about, during the campaigning at theatre room, the school band's gonna play songs for audience impact, we could ask them!" yoon excitedly suggested

yn grimaced at yoon's idea "what, pres? you don't want to, do you? is it cause of taesan?" yoon teased to which yn rolled their eyes "it's a good idea but, are we sure they'd accept? i mean, there's nothing in for them." yn reasoned

winter giggled "i'm pretty sure taesan would convice his friends to do so if you asked, yn, we all saw how he looks at you." yn hung his head low in embarassment as his friends laughed. "in all seriousness, yn. i think that you should really ask, you're the president and taesan's pretty nice." wonbin said.

"what made you hate taesan that much anyway?" yoon asked. "hate is a strong word!" yn interjected "fine! what made you not like him? or whatever"

yn knew they had no way out of yoon's question, their friends are also waiting for the answer. yn sighed, "i used to date taesan. i can't say that it ended well, he took it maturely and i– i wasn't in my best mental state at that time." silence was present as yn's friends processed the information.

"say something" yn whispered

"so, when you look at him– or interact with him in general, your mental state from when you broke up surfaces?" wonbin asked nonchalantly "i hate you." yn joked.

"but yes, i guess." winter and yoon yelled in giddiness "you aren't over him are you?" winter asked while laughing with yoon "hey!" yn embarassedly replied, face turning beet red while stifling their laughter.

wonbin also couldn't hold in his laughter as the girls continued to laugh, clap, and yell.

"you HAVE to be the one to ask." yoon insisted as yn could only sigh in defeat "fine, fine."

🎸🎸🎸

yn made their way over to the music room where the school band practices, as he neared the door, someone exited and almost bumped into them. "oh i'm sorry!" the girl exclaimed

"hey violet!" yn greeted "what were you doing in there?" violet, the president from an opposing party smiled "campaign stuff, you get it." yn chuckled "okay, good luck!" yn said as they entered the music room.

the light chatter among the band members settled as they recognized the person who entered. "look who's here." taesan smiled as he approached yn who braced themselves.

"play nice, taesan. i'm here to ask for a favor." yn avoids the taller's eyes, meanwhile taesan doesn't shy away from eye contact.

"and that is...?" yn sighed and mustered up their courage to look at taesan in the eye. "i want the band to play during our campaign." taesan smiled at the shorter.

"is that how you ask for favors?" taesan teased to which he received an eye roll from the shorter.

"c– can you please play during our campaign? it would really help my party."

taesan smiled "i'd love to, boss." yn tried to hide their excitement but their eyes betrayed them. taesan chuckled at the younger as yn hurriedly left the room "i owe you one!" yn smiled at him.

jaehyun immediately cleared his throat as soon as yn left and caught taesan's attention "what's between you two?" jaehyun asked, suspicious of their actions

"yeah, why does yn act so flustered when you approach them? that's the only time i see them get so... folded"

woonhak added as sungho could only chuckle, being the only one to know about their past.

"let's just say... we have history." taesan looked down as he walked back to the boys "what about violet? didn't she also ask for us to play during her campaign?" riwoo asked "drop that, i think taesan would rather play for yn, and i don't mind playing for yn." jaehyun answered for taesan, which were followed by 'me too's.

🎸🎸🎸

it is now time for their campaign, violet is finishing up her time on the stage and it is time for yn's party to come up on stage.

cheers and claps were heard throughout the auditorium as yn, wonbin, winter, and yoon make their way up to the stage.

"good morning everyone! we are the younique party!"

everything went by like a breeze, everyone had fun during the campaign and the audience seemed to accept them well. "now, please help me welcome our very own, boynextdoor!" yn announced as their party left the stage as taesan and the rest of the band made their way backstage

"i dedicate the next few songs for yn and their party." taesan said before the band started their small session.

yn only watched from backstage as taesan enjoyed himself onstage. their eyes met a couple of times which didn't fail to make yn flustered.

as boynextdoor finished their session after 3 songs, yn and their party made their way back to the stage and thanked everyone for the successful campaign.

the party alongside boynextdoor went backstage as it was the next party's turn to campaign.

as they arrived backstage, yn immediately pulled taesan somewhere private. "hey, thank you for– uh– preparing 3 songs for our campaign, it might not mean much to you but it does for me." yn said in gratitude, avoiding eye contact once more.

"it means a lot to me performing for you, yn." taesan answered genuinely.

yn pushed him lightly, feelings giddy, unable to hide their smile. yn grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a deep kiss. taesan quickly recovered from his shock and held yn's waist, deepening their kiss.

tongue was involved as they kept kissing each other, breaking away to catch their breaths "god, i missed you." taesan breathed out, kissing yn's neck, "i miss you so much." he whispered onto the shorter's neck.

"i missed you too."

they were interrupted by a knock as yn quickly got off taesan "pres, shouldn't we go back to our classroom?"

wonbin voiced out.

"yes– yes you guys can go first, i'll follow!" yn said in a rush, fixing their shirt. "tonight, 8pm, pick me up." yn said in a jokingly stern voice to taesan. the taller approached yn and landed a peck on his lips.

"yes, boss."

🎸🎸🎸

[lovebugism]

for the blurb sleepover thing, i am asking for a crumb of stancy x reader smut 🥺

✶ ┄ LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME !

summary: your lives weren't supposed to turn out like this. but you're so very glad that they did. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / nancy wheeler word count: 3.2k warnings: threesome, ffm, oral (f!receiving) smut 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for a crumb and in return a bring you a little over three thousand words and some of my favorite smut i've ever written <3 thanks for request anon!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Nancy thought her entire life had been planned out before she was ever born. That her fate was doomed from the beginning and she was destined to end up like her mother — her mother’s mother, her mother’s mother’s mother. 

It was too easy to picture a life with white picket fences and too big houses and ten-carat diamonds that didn’t mean shit.

It’s all just a shit show of wealth. None of it’s love. None of it’s real.

And even though she can see it all right in front of her, so tangible she can almost touch it, it doesn’t mean she wants to. Or that she’s ever wanted to. And rather than stare at herself in the mirror and see a life she’s been cursed with, she stares directly at the sun and decides to date the weirdo of Hawkins when she turns sixteen.

Jonathan Byers was rugged and strange and not all there sometimes, but he was kind. And he loved her. More than anything, though, he was a distraction from the plain vanilla lifestyle of the cul de sac. He showed her that there was more to life than pearls and pretty dresses and country-club-coded boyfriends.

For the first time, she saw herself as someone else. Not the goody-two-shoes, straight-A student from the wealthy part of town, but a person who could be so much more than all that. And, for a long time, she thought her happiest moments were spent with the freak from the wrong side of the tracks. They were. Until they… weren’t.

Nancy turns twenty and something shifts. She comes to the sudden realization that she was only happy because she felt like she was rebelling against some great, big, imaginary thing and it pummels her in the face with a closed fist.

She thought they loved each other in spite of how different they were, but the entire time it was because of how different they were. It was something short of a fetish, an acute fascination in each other, because both of them understood that they weren’t supposed to be dating a person on the farthest side of the social spectrum. 

Jonathan was never supposed to end up with a pretty girl who grew up in a pretty house with prettier money. Nancy wasn’t meant to settle down with a guy from the bad part of town who worked two jobs to stay afloat and had no real aspirations in life because he was never really able to do anything in the first place. 

But he did. She did. And it worked. 

Then the dust settled and the fog cleared, and she realized none of that was real either.

Feelings were misplaced. Obsession ebbed to neutrality. Dumb teenagers grew up.

It all faded until the only thing left was a couple of kids who spent so much of their life running in the opposite direction because it felt good to rebel. When there was no authority to raise their middle finger to, there was no love left to give. There was no love at all. A mutual adoration for one another wasn’t enough to keep each other afloat.

And rather than drown in spite of it all, they swim even though it hurts. 

Jonathan ends up on the opposite side of the country, still awkward and trying to take shape on the west coast. He keeps reveling in his boyhood with weed and arcades and pretty girls. Nancy stays close to home and tries like hell to grow up. She goes to college and moves out of the suburbs to a string of half-rundown apartments on the far side of town.

Not because it felt good to do the opposite of what her mom had done. 

Not because there were a couple of odds she felt the need to defy. 

But because it was what she wanted to do. 

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t doing something for someone else, and she started to slowly blossom, like a wilting plant that just needed a little extra love.

She gets a lot of that these days, more love than she thought she could ever be deserving of. Because now she has Steve. She has you. And if he’s the rippling waves in the tides of her heart, you’re the moon that guides them.

You keep her steady when shit gets rocky, when she starts to get scared that she’s falling back into old ways. When she’s scared of how much she loves Steve because he’s the carbon copy of the man everyone’s expected her to love and when she’s feeling bad for what she did to Jonathan and it’s got her all scared of herself.

She’s got you to keep her anchored. You tell her that she’s not her past. That she’s still growing all the time and that she’s blossomed into something so beautiful that you’re grateful you get to see it firsthand. “You’re your own person, Nance,” you remind her. “You love us. We love you. So… Fuck everything else.”

Nancy trusts you and she's not exactly sure if she’s ever trusted anyone before. She’s only ever given pieces of herself away before now, but it’s different with you. You look at her in a way that makes her feel naked, like you can see all of her without really trying, and it feels good to have someone who knows her without her having to say very much.

You sit cross-legged on her bed, absentmindedly nodding your head to the music playing from her small television across the room — a static, technicolored picture that croons “hot dog, jumping frog, Albuquerque.” 

She smiles at you from across the checkerboard that sits between you. You’re so cute, she doesn’t even care that you’ve taken two of her red pieces in one go.

She lets you talk about everything you’ve got on your chest and right now, it’s Eddie Munson — an ex of your’s you saw on a coffee run earlier that morning. You tell her how much you’d loved him when you were a teenager, how you wanted to get married and follow him across the world when he made it big with his band. 

But he hasn’t yet made it out of Indiana and you’ve settled down with somebody else. Somebodies.

“I remember him,” Nancy lilts with a soft smile, ocean blue eyes concentrated on the board as she calculates her next move. “He was… interesting.”

“He was a total freak, but he was the nicest guy I’d ever met. He was, like, super into rock music and the color black and creepy shit — everything super metal, you know? But he was also really sweet… Like sunshine, kinda. Like Steve,” you reminisce distantly.

“Of course, we picked the nicest one, huh?” she teases you, herself. “Steve is like… good.” 

“Like prom king wrapped up in sunshine,” you nod.

“Great bod, too.”

“And stupid handsome… Stamina like a super soldier or somethin’.”

Nancy breathes out a laugh, a sad scoff. 

Steve’s been busy with work these days. Trying to make it big at his mom’s real estate firm has been taking up most of his time. She’s glad she’s got you to keep her company, to hold her and to hold you when the days are cold and the nights are colder. But she’s noticed the lack of his presence, both of you have. 

He left and pieces of the two of you went with him.

“I miss him,” she admits softly.

“Me too…”

She bites the inside of her cheek when a smile threatens to tug at her mouth. Her lashes touch the bottoms of her bushy brows as her eyes flit to yours, scrunching her nose as she jokes: “We probably shouldn’t tell him, though.”

“Of course not,” you scoff playfully. “Don’t want him to get too cocky.”

As much shit as you both of you like to talk about Steve, behind his back and to his face, all in the name of good fun — you love when he’s cocky. When he’s inside you, fucking up into you with all the strength of a madman, he’s King Steve all over again. Because he’s got something to prove. 

With his cock nestled deep inside of Nancy and his tongue shoved inside of you, the only thing he wants to do is make the two of you feel good. And he does. Catastrophically so. When he’s brought both of you to mind-numbing climaxes full of wild moans and shaking limbs, you feel him smirk against your skin while he presses wet kisses to your trembling thighs.

It makes him proud of himself, all smug and boastful. And you and Nancy let him have his fun. You figure that he deserves it after making you feel such an unearthly sort of pleasure.

Out of the two of you, Nancy’s orgasms are most violent. They always have been to a certain extent, but more so with you and Steve. It starts as a low ripple in her lower belly that pops into a full boil. Her muscle tense something fierce, she twists herself into knots and rides her pleasure like a bucking bull on Steve’s cock or your face. 

They feel a bit like riptides. They pull her under and drown her, force her to ride each rough wave through rough wave. She digs her manicured nails into Steve’s freckled back or your sweat-slicked shoulders or her own pale thighs while the both of you dismantle her piece by little piece.

You’re more like the wings of a butterfly. Built from the same cloth as her, you still have a simmering anxiety beneath your skin, scared of ever enjoying a good thing, lest it gets ripped away. Rather than fight it like Nancy, you embrace it head on. You let it run over you like hot water, revel in the way it prickles your skin, and then thank them for making you feel so good. 

You never had to, though. Thank them. They made you feel good because they liked it just as much as you did, but you felt the need to express your gratitude for it anyway. Just grateful for them and the moment and all the ways you get to share yourself with them.

Steve makes Nancy come with his tongue nestled inside her pulsating cunt and giant hands palming her ass. You kneel just beside him, pressing kisses to the outsides of her thigh, as you pull the hood of her clit taut with your free hand for him. The boy suckles at her swollen button and she cries through it all, hips bucking like she’s trying to run away from how good it feels. 

You stay soft; kiss up her thigh and her belly, her tits and neck and jaw. Too innocent for all the filth around you.

She makes you feel good next, even though her legs still feel a bit like jelly. The two of you lie on your sides on the pillows, facing one another, kissing each other breathless. You’ve got one hand beneath Nancy’s head and the other folded behind you, entwined in the strands of Steve’s wild hair. He lays behind you, slicked body pressed intently against your own, while he sprinkles wet kisses to every part of you he can reach.

Nancy touches your pussy with methodical grazes. She runs her pointer finger through the hot slick gathering between your lips and Steve holds you open for her as she dips a finger into the fluttering hole of your opening, adding another right along with it.

“Nance,” you moan sweetly, light as air. Your hips rock slowly against her hand, not nearly as rough as her’s had against Steve’s face. You’re much softer than her. More patient. Your clit presses against her smooth palm and you shiver between the two of them “Shit. Right there.” 

The girl revels in your sweet pleas and how your warm walls pulsate around her fingers — the wings of a butterfly indeed. You change color in front of her, from a blotchy red thing to a bright burst of rainbows. You let Steve hold you when you come, let him pet you while the aftershocks of your orgasm make you shake.

Nancy brings her come-soaked fingers to her mouth and admires the taste of you and the way you look pressed against him. You, made of vivid and sparkling colors, and Steve, made of gold and velvet and expensive silk.

Truth be told, she likes to watch the two of you fuck the most.

There’s something about seeing Steve on top of you — tanned skinned and fuzzy chest and tremendous strength. His broad shoulders and slick back tense and ripple while he fucks you in brutal, powerful, diligent strokes.

You’re far more delicate in comparison. 

Your moans are light, touches lighter, as you let him fuck you so ruthlessly. Even spread open like this, wet pussy on display for the both of them, you still manage to look so sweet, so innocent.

“Can you lift your hips for me, sweetheart?” he coos, your thigh gripped in one hand while he puts a pillow beneath you with the other. And you, obedient you, abide him. He slips the cushion under you and hits new depths within your fluttering pussy. “Aw, fuck yeah, baby— that’s my girl.”

Nancy’s lying right next to you, on her back, with her fingertips swirling around her clit. Her heavy, glazed-over eyes flit between your fucked out face, Steve’s scrunched features, and where his glistening cock pierces you over and over and over again. 

“Grab the headboard, baby,” he tells you, not the most wholehearted of his otherwise glaring demands, but more so advice — the number of times he’s driven his hips too hard against you and all but smacked you into the headboard is uncountable at this point. He punctuates his order with the hearty smack of your ass. The palm of his hand collides with your rounded, slick skin and you keen. 

You heed his advice as he hooks your knee up and around his waist. He bends over you to sink his tongue into your obedient mouth. Nancy does the same with her fingers, pushing her fingers inside of her gaping cunt, curling them within her like she imagines Steve’s doing inside your mouth just now.

He eases his cock out of you — inch by thick, soaking wet inc — before plunging right back into you. His hips clap against your own and you squeal inside his mouth, grasping the wooden headboard with enough force to crack the damn thing.

Nancy’s bedsprings creak with every one of his barbaric thrusts. It’s almost as pornographic as the wet sounds between your legs, the wet clicks of his cock pounding so aggressively into you. 

Each snap of his hips drives you further and further up the bed and you try to match them, hips bucking against his own in attempts to bring him further into you, to swallow every inch of him.

Nancy does the same with her fingers, imagining it’s your hand or Steve’s cock, as she fucks herself with her eyes locked on where his dick disappears inside of you.

C’mon, Steve, fuck all the way into her, she scolds him silently. Hit the furthest part of her. Make her fucking scream—

“C’mon, Nance,” Steve mutters suddenly, gaze heavy and full of fire when he looks over at her. He plants his knees and picks up the pace, fucking you like a fucking maniac. “Make her come.”

He might as well be superman the way he pistons in and out of you, with both speed and diligence that manages not to feel too fast or too mindless. Sometimes you think he is — superman. It feels like he is sometimes. Whether he’s fucking you within an inch of your life or saving you from a spider in the bathroom.

Nancy smiles lazily over at him, happily removing her soaked fingers from her pussy and putting them on yours. 

“Yes, sir,” she answers playfully, having no idea what it does to him. Or maybe she does. Maybe that’s exactly why she said it, to laugh softly to herself when it makes his hips stutter.

The girl slithers closer to you, pressing her naked body flush against the side of yours. She kisses the sweat off of your jaw while her fingers settle beside the place where Steve drills into you. He punches into your pussy again and again and again and she circles your clit with the pads of her fingers with a similar mercilessness.

“Feels good, huh?” she asks you, lips like silk against your cheek.

“Yes,” you answer in a moan before a whine climbs through your tightening through. “’S so good, Nance. So fucking good.”

Steve tosses his head back when his own moans escape the depths of his chest. “Fuck,” he drawls, revealing the chiseled columns of his neck and the sweat dripping down his hairy chest. “You’re so perfect, baby. Both of you. So fucking good for me.”

Nancy smiles to herself, spreading her middle and pointer finger around the puffy lips of your cunt and Steve’s cock, before bringing them up again to pinch your sensitive clit.

You cry. You arch. You writhe.

“Fuck,” you sob, one hand clutching Nancy’s wrist and the other gripping Steve’s tensed bicep as you come something fierce.

Nancy can only imagine the way you convulse around him, choke the absolute shit out of his cock with your tightening walls, because Steve’s done for after that. His rhythm stutters all at once and he whines a low and pathetic whine, going rigid as he presses his hips against yours. 

He spills all of himself into your pulsating cunt with a drawled out and nearly feral grunt.

He collapses into your arms and you accept him wholeheartedly, letting him hold you as your hands wrap around his sweat-slicked back. Nancy shows no such patience as she pokes him in the ribs to urge him off of you.

“Move,” she orders suddenly. “Move—”

“Alright,” Steve chuckles at her urgency. He’s not too happy to leave the warmth of you, but he’s in no place to deny Nancy. His hand skates down his torso to cup his softening dick when he pulls out of you, falling onto his side next to you. “Jeez.”

Nancy slithers between your legs. She cups her slender fingers just under your thighs and forces your knees back, spreading you and putting you on display all over again. Your cunt is still gaping from Steve’s cock, still sensitive, still hungry.

You’re far too exhausted to say anything. You just flash her a curious look with pinched brows as you stare down at her through a heaving chest. But Steve gets the hint without a word. He holds his weight on his forearm and uses his free hand to help Nancy, pulling one leg up to spread you further for her, for him.

“Just wanna taste you,” she lilts with a too innocent smile, using one hand to reach between your legs and gathering the honey that drips from your opening — a glistening mixture of your and Steve’s climax. “Wanna taste both of you.”