#But if you have continuity questions or anything I'm always here

[k0juki]

Wolf in sheep's clothing

Joost Klein x fem!reader

Warnings: (Joost is not famous in this!) stalking, bad behaviour, maybe paranoia? mentions of killing and mentions of dead people... NOT EDITED!

English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

Wc. over 1500

---

You always thought that you met Joost by accident. But was it really? With him you never know, and now you were pretty sure that it wasn't by accident. He is a man with charm, that's a very dangerous thing.

His blue eyes held more darkness than you had ever seen in anyone else. But there still was something in them, you just hoped it wasn't too late for him.

And even now that you aren't together, you still hoped there was some way to save him.

"By safe on your way home." Said your mother through the phone you had between your ear and shoulder.

"Yeah mom, I will. Don't worry, okay? I love you, bye." You ended the call and made your way home on the busy streets of Amsterdam. It was getting colder this time of year and you feared it would start snowing in a few weeks.

It was a short trip home from the grocery store. Just around the corner, by the book store, where you always walk by. But you tried to walk here only during the day, not night. You saw in the news many times before how some doubtful people robbed other people near your apartment. This wasn't the best street to live on, but it was still your home after all.

You hated that you had to lie to your mother, but it was for the best. She knew about your and Joost break up and she worried about you. And she would definitely get crazy if you told her the truth about your real parting.

The place you loved no matter what. Yes, it has some advantages and disadvantages, but what hasn't. And after you and Joost broke up, you tried to avoid this this shortcut as much as possible. You always thought that someone was watching you going through here, and now that you and Joost weren't together, you felt this feeling growth.

You speed up a little and adjust your jacket around you with bag full of food in one hand and the other in your pocket. "It's alright Y/n, no-one is here, there's nothing to be scared of." You kept telling yourself, you were ready for everything.

But it wasn't this unfamiliar gaze that scared you. No, you knew it very well who exactly it was. He is the one you should avoid, to hide from and to fear. Maybe you didn't know where he was, but you knew he was close.

"Y/n"

It was so quiet, you almost didn't hear it. You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around. It was him, in all his glory. You didn't say anything. You couldn't, it was like he took all the oxygen and you just couldn't breathe.

"Y/n" he repeated and took a step towards you. But you couldn't move, it was like you were glued to the floor. Looking closer at him, you saw behind his glasses how his right eye was a bit swollen and purple around the corner. He didn't look good, in fact he scared you.

He stopped a few centimeters before you, practically breathing right in your face and you were sure, you were breathing just as hard.

"Wha..." you couldn't bring yourself to even speak properly, but you had to for your sake. "What are you doing here?" It was a simple question, but you didn't expect him to answer truthfully.

"I'm here to see you."

"No," Stepping back, you took your other hand out of your pocket, keeping distance between you and him. "You can't be here."

"Why not." This dull look in his ocean eyes wasn't the one you fell in love with, he wasn't your Joost. The one that cared for everyone so much all the time, even though he didn't have to. This wasn't your Joost that told you how much he loves you right when you woke up in the morning and before you fell asleep in his hold.

This wasn't him. This was someone else.

"You know why." Came out as a whisper. "We are done." You turned back around and continued your way home, you didn't stop even when you heard his voice calling after you.

"You can't keep doing this Y/n!"

He wasn't coming after you and you were glad, you just hoped you won't have to see him again.

As soon as you saw your apartment, you sighed and walked inside the building. He was gone.

Opening the door, you were greeted by loud meowing. It was like your cat brought you out of the trance. He was hungry and rubbed his head against your leg.

Kefir. He was a present from Joost and the name was an idea from him too. He knew how much you liked milk, so you immediately agreed. Your little nonstop meowing little Kefir.

You put the full bag on the counter after you made sure you locked the door. That night you couldn't sleep, how could you, and all because you saw something you shouldn't. It didn't had to end this way, but he had made his choice.

How can you hurt someone, let alone kill. This was twisted. Beyond disguising. And what was worse, you didn't told that to anyone, too scared to say something to someone. But you made your choice to break up with him. It didn't make you feel any less guilty, but you had to do something, anything at this point.

And you knew that if you looked out of the window, behind curtains, you would see him here standing with a cigarette in his mouth. How he was watching you every night for the past month since you broke up.

He scared you. Joost scared you.

---

You woke up later than usual, but there was no wonder. When you went to sleep, the sun was already up. When you looked out of the window, he was no longer here.

"Are you hungry?" You asked the cat and he just meowed as you made your way to the kitchen. You put kefir granules and got ready for the day.

Then you made your way to work and after the whole day, you had to say, you had enough. All those rude people and their bizarre ideas how you could do your job better.

When you went home you couldn't help but notice certain things. He wasn't here. Normally he was right there waiting in some dark corner watching over you or going behind you in crowded streets.

You didn't think much of it, thinking he finally stopped following you around like a lost puppy. You took a deep breath and stepped inside the building and made your way to the fourth floor.  As you opened the door, you knew he was there, in your home that used to be your both.

You immediately noticed, but it wasn't for your cat, because he came to greet you as soon as you opened.

You knew he was here because he didn't follow you home. It was a strange thing for him to do, but you got used to it.

"How did you get in?"

You heard his chuckle and saw him step to the light of your living room.

"I don't want you here Joost. I made that clear." You said to him feeling confident, but that didn't mean you feared him any less.

"I didn't mean to scare you that night, you know?" He admitted and made his way slowly to you.

"Do you..." You began "Do you want me dead?"

He didn't answer that, you didn't expect him to. He looked at you and after so long, you finally saw something in his eyes other than emptiness. It was like he recognised you.

"Dead?" Joost asked and tilted his head to the side. "Y/n, I don't want you dead."

"Then why do you keep doing this? Why are you scaring me? Why did you kill that guy?"

"I love you, can't you see that?"

He looked desperate and ashamed of himself. Like he didn't recognise himself too. Looking down he pulled you closer by your waist and put his head on top of yours. He squeeze your waist and then whispered.

"You don't get it, I had to do it."

"Why?"

"Because of you. For you."

Now it was your turn to be quiet. Too scared to say something. You didn't return the hug he was holding you in and he noticed. You closed your eyes as you felt them fill with tears of psychical pain and regret for someone's life they couldn't live.

"No, it was always going to end this way."

This only made him hold you closer and harder. You took a deep breath and whispered.

"It doesn't have to end this way."

---

Don't copy or translate my work. Also the picture is not mine, credit goes to owner.

A/n: idk how I should feel about this... it's not edited so... :))

#joost klein x fem!reader #joost klein x you #x reader #k0juki's stuff 🩷 #x female!reader #joost klein #joost klein x reader #justice for joost #joostice #dark #dark!joost #dark!joost klein #dark!joost klein x reader #fanfic #blurb #imagine #europa #europe #eurovision #dark romance

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light in |One-shot [1]|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Dewey Riley and Fem!Reader

One-shot: A Classic Whodunit

Summary: Moving to Woodsborro was certainly not your willing decision. Change has always been hard for you, so what better way to cope than to make everyone else's life almost as miserable as yours?

Warning(s): Swearing, & mentioned family issues (?)

Notes: Finally got around to re-writing this and I definitely prefer this version. There's more Tara x Reader stuff and a little more details regarding R's past. Still based off this scene from Gilmore Girls and takes place when R just moved to town. This'll still be the last thing I'm able to post for one my stories for a bit, but I'm glad it's still something

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You continued reading from your book as you walked with your head hung low paying no mind to your surroundings, too engrossed with the words you read. That was until you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye, your brief suspicions immediately being confirmed when the person spoke. 

Dewey—who was previously leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed—began to follow you, uncrossing his arms. “Hey,” he nodded at you and you didn’t reciprocate, only turning your head to look at him briefly before turning your attention ahead of you while putting your book in your back pocket. “How was school?” Dewey immediately followed with. 

“Great,” you couldn’t help the blatant disinterest in your tone. 

“Learn anything good?” You could already tell he was amping up to something. There was a certain eagerness in his voice. An eagerness to segway into what he truly wanted to talk about. 

“Oh yeah, tons of things. I got gold stars plastered all of my forehead,” you remarked with as much sarcasm you could muster at the moment. 

“I got an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” He asked and you couldn’t care less. 

“Not really,” you answered honestly, your tone still showing anything but amusement.

“So Mr. Collier—you know he owns the local market?”

“If you say so.” 

“Said you came in today.”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked; you looked both ways before you and Dewey now walked alongside a road. 

“And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief, that he was just trying to start trouble and then I hung up on him.” Most of what Dewey was saying was going in one ear and out the other. You’ve grown good at tuning people out, intentional or not. Still Dewey continued. “Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy. But I was just wondering, if maybe, any of the other things were true.”

“What do you think?” You questioned with annoyance at the edge of your voice. You were starting to grow more and more impatient as he continued to yammer on. 

“I think if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true,” he elaborated.

“Okay. It’s not true.” 

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

The two of you were now on a dirt path as you stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. While one hand moved as you spoke, the other one was clenched into a fist to your side. “—Look, what exactly do you want from me? First I get forced to move here, now I’m stuck with you most of the time. I’m put in this place—now in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six-different-languages! I’m supposed to be this happy-go-lucky person after being taken away from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!” 

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy apartment. You were fine knowing the city you lived in like the back of your hand. You were fine having your best friend within walking distance. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Your father had no right to ship you off just because he couldn’t take his precious image being ruined. He was on the verge of sending you to military school before your mom stepped in. Their marriage had been falling apart for some time but this was definitely the nail in the coffin. 

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his own patience was beginning to grow thin. Dewey knew about your complicated relationship with your father. He knew what led to you ending up in Woodsborro. He knew things about you before you even knew them. He just wanted to protect you, shield you from harm. Even if he knows where that has gotten him in the past.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions! Just stop!” You waved your hands in aggravation as you spoke, your temper and annoyance taking over you with each second. You were pissed and upset with every aspect of your life. Unfortunately, Dewey found himself being on the receiving end of your frustration. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s what you really want?” He wasn’t yelling but his voice grew louder with his second question to match your own tone.

“Yes,” you spoke with more conviction. 

“Fine. You got it, kid!” Dewey said as he threw his hands up.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continued walking, both of you walking tensely as you stepped onto the bridge that went over the lake that was not far from where you two were previously standing. You each refused to look at the other as you walked along the bridge. When you were halfway on the bridge, you suddenly felt yourself being shoved. In a blink of an eye, you go from standing on the bridge to standing in the lake soaking wet. You pushed your hair back to look at Dewey who was still walking with his back facing you. He didn’t pay the person he just shoved into a lake any mind. 

Great.

By the time you successfully lifted yourself up and got back on to the bridge, Dewey was gone. Nobody liked soggy socks but maybe you deserved it. Maybe. Even if you were far too stubborn to admit it. 

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He was ranting about something with his hands going up and down as he spoke angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 

Apparently someone had drawn the outline of a body right outside of his store and put up caution tape. It was obviously just a prank.  If there was actually a murder, the police wouldn’t let it hit daylight. Let alone bring attention to it by drawing an outline of the body with white chalk. They weren’t living in the interwar period. But Mr. Collier refused to see this as he argued with Sheriff Hicks, eyes flickering back and forth from the sheriff and the outline as he yelled. 

“What am I supposed to do?! I have a dead body right in front of my store!” 

“No. You have a chalk outline of a dead body in front of your store,” she said as a matter of fact. “One of my guys is doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then just sit tight? This is probably just some prank done by one of the highschoolers.” She sighed before walking away from the dramatic man. 

Tara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked over at the outline again. Nothing good ever happened in Woodsborro. Other than the fact that a few murders from the 90’s are practically a part of their school curricula, it was a boring ass town. So one should never take entertainment like this for granted. 

Sheriff Hicks came back just a few minutes later and informed everyone—mainly Mr. Collier—that everyone had been accounted for and it really was just a prank. 

“But it looks so real! Where’d they get the police tape?” The man was still in disbelief if his tone was anything to go by.

“Kids have their ways,” Hicks shrugged, resting a hand on her hips. She had gone through ghostface before and even her ptsd wasn't flaring up from what was in front of her. The man needed to relax.

“Who would be depraved enough to pull a stupid prank like this?!” 

As if on cue, Tara’s eyes found you leaning against a light pole across the street as you wore a devilish smirk. It shifted into a small smile when you met her eyes. You looked away for a moment then back at her before you walked away. 

Of course it was you. This had your name plastered all over it. You might as well have been posing at the scene of the crime. She should have known better. You have been wreaking havoc from the moment you stepped into town. Nothing good ever came from that stupid smirk she’s become all too familiar with. Everything about you annoyed her to no end. There was just something she couldn't put her finger on. It was driving her insane. You were going to drive her insane. 

—

The next day, Tara returned to the market so she could fulfill her duties as the snacks retriever for tonight’s movie marathon with the others. After seeing that everything—your mess—was cleaned up and Mr. Collier was less frantic, she made her way inside the market. While inside, she bumped into Wes. They talked for a few minutes as she continued shopping. Wes was nice, but romance wise? Tara didn’t know how to feel. Wes is kind, good looking, a gentleman—what was stopping Tara from going out with him?

“I’m going to ring these up but I’ll meet you outside?” Tara said to Wes and he nodded with a smile. Tara returned it before checking out the things she bought and waited outside the store for Wes with her plastic bags full of snacks in hand. She suddenly felt a light tap on back before she turned around and saw you.

“Should you be standing around here all alone? I heard this is a pretty dangerous corner,” you teased while emphasizing the word ‘pretty’ by motioning with your hands. Tara looked at you then immediately looked away as she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” she said—trying in a nonchalant tone.

“Feeling succinct today?” You looked her up and down, noticing her tense demeanor.

“Pretty much.” She refused to give you anymore than that. She was not going to buckle. She was not going to fall for your witty remarks or snide comments.

“Hm,” you said while lightly nodding. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“Me? No.” Now she was finally looking at you, meeting your eyes.

“Good.” 

“You might wanna ask that same question to Dewey though.”

“Meaning?” You raised your eyebrows as if you didn’t have a single clue.

From your facial expressions to your tone—how were you so unbothered? How could you be so clueless? So dense? Fuck it. Maybe she was going to buckle and fall but you were just too irritating to resist the temptation. “You’ve got this whole town coming down on him,” Tara’s voice became more defensive.

“Reeeally? How’d I do that?” You feigned a look of surprise and concern, matching your conceited tone

She was going to punch you.

“You know how you did that,” she replied because you couldn’t be that dull. You just couldn’t. 

“I’m quite familiar with the bluebook laws in this town so you’re talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm and arm with a member of the opposite sex on a Sunday,” you satirized with that vexing voice of yours.

Maybe you were that dull. Tara pointed down with both her arms at the chalk you both stood on. They were able to clean up the police tape no problem, but the chalk was going to take more elbow grease. 

You looked to where she was pointing before saying, “Ah.” You moved your feet off of the outline before continuing, “What about it?”

“You did it,” Tara said. “Everyone knows you did it. They had a meeting about it.”

“You actually go to those bizzaro town meetings?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. You shook your head, “God those things are so To Kill A Mockingbird.” 

“My friend’s mom is a sheriff, so she’s the one who went. And Dewey went. When he got there everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone,” Tara told you with no remorse.

“Wow. Bummer.”

“And he’s standing there, yelling at everyone, and defending you—now he’s a pariah for the shit you’ve caused in just a month of being here.” You looked down to the side, processing what you were just told. You wore a look Tara wasn’t able to read. “Of course you don’t care about any of this,” she rolled eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she waved you away with her hands, shooing you, before looking away.

“Fine…” You started to walk away but Tara’s frustration got the best of her and you stopped and turned back around when you heard her speak again. 

“You’re an asshole!” 

“Got a second wind, huh?” You tried to hide the displeasure you suddenly felt.

“You’re making his life hard. And for what? For your own amusement? You’re sadistic.” You could tell she had been holding that in. You also wouldn’t comment on how you found the pout she was wearing a little cute. “Second wind over.”

“I didn’t realize they were coming down so hard on him…”

“Funny, I never pegged you as clueless,” Tara remarked, annoyance still evident in her voice.

“I get it…” She gave you a look. “No no no, I do, I get it,” you lightly nodded at her. Contrary to your previous tone, your voice now held interest and understanding—and so did the look you gave her. Your eyes flickered between her and the chalk outline before asking the question that’s been in the back of your mind, “Did you at least think it was funny?”

Tara tried to fight the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but this time rolling them in a more playful manner. “That is so not the point!” She hoped you didn’t hear the laugh that threatened to come out. 

“Yeah… you thought it was funny,” you said proudly. 

“Shut up.” She could no longer meet your eyes, now looking back at the ground.

Before either of you could say anything else, the door to the market opened and Wes walked out with a few bags of his own. “I got the—oh hey,” Wes cut himself off to greet you.

He didn’t know you personally, just that you already had a few run-ins with his mom in just a month of being here. Did that make him weary of you? Sure. But you weren’t the first kid at his school to have run-ins with his mom. Your reasons were just more… creative. 

“This is Wes,” Tara introduced the two of you. Looking between you both as you two made eye contact.

“Boyfriend?” You asked without looking away from Wes.

“No! I mean,” she cleared her throat. “No. Not boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” was all you said as a reply while you continued to stare him down. “How you doin’?” 

“Good. Yeah I’m good,” Wes responded with a tightlipped smile. 

“Okay see you around,” Tara quickly cut in before this awkward interaction could go any further. 

You finally turned your attention back on Tara, looking at her. “Seems to turn out that way. Doesn’t it?” Your tone was underlined with something Tara couldn’t place. Before she could respond, you turned around and walked away to who knows where.

You were truly something. 

—

You let Tara’s words sink in as you made a detour to Dewey’s trailer. Deep down you knew Dewey didn’t deserve the way you were coming down on him. Especially when you could probably say he’s done more shit for you than your father has. 

Moving to Woodsborro was definitely not at all ideal. You hated change and everything that came with it. All it did was bring more anxiety into your life. So when your mother informed you you would be leaving Brooklyn to move to some town in California, you didn’t handle the news well. You still weren’t handling it well. There were a few reasons as to why you moved, your father being the root of each one. But although you understood part of it, what you didn’t understand is why you had to move so far away. Maybe that’s part of why you’re so hard on Dewey. If your mom was moving and starting fresh, it makes sense she would want to start it surrounded by close friends. But did she have to pick one that lived so far away?

You didn’t know a bunch about her dynamic with Dewey other than the fact that they met in 1998 during the ghostface attacks. They eventually got close and became friends. They must have been great friends considering she made him your Godfather. 

You also knew Dewey was a former Sheriff. A former Sheriff that’s aware of your trip of a track record. He always made sure to keep an eye on you and it was extremely annoying. A nunsense really. It’s like you couldn’t breathe for five seconds without him hovering over you.

Your mom was a nurse, you didn’t get to see much of her. She always took as many shifts as she could, more shifts meant more money. More money is definitely something your family could use. Since your mom was always working, you often found yourself stuck with Dewey. You quickly grew sick and tired of him. But now here you were, making your way to Dewey’s trailer as you went over everything in your head. You knew you were the asshole in all this. Dewey was just trying to help you. He didn’t need you making it harder for him than it already was.

You knew what you had to do, even if it meant forcing out the words. Apologizing was not one of your specialties. You went over the exact words you wanted to say, sighing, before knocking on the door to Dewey’s trailer. 

Dewey answered the door, already knowing who it was. “Hey, kid,” he greeted just a second after he opened the door for you.

“Hey. Mind if I…?” You pointed to the inside of his trailer with raised eyebrows and he nodded before letting you inside. “So uh…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as you looked around as if you have never been in his trailer before. As if you hadn’t already spent most of your nights sleeping on the beat up mattress that was now leaned up against the wall. Dewey looked at you with his arms crossed and expression warm. You felt like he always wore a warm expression no matter what. “Hey,” you finally said once you realized you lost your train of thought.

He chuckled a bit before saying, “You already said that.”

“Right, well I wanted to…. Apologize,” you said while looking at the ground, playing with the fabric of your pockets.

“Okay. I’m listening,” Dewey replied as he took a seat on his futon.

“Oh, that was actually the apology.”

He hummed before inquiring, “For…?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was enjoying this. 

You exhale, tilting your head back as you look at the ceiling. You finally looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that,” he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn’t get a lot of those.

“No problem,” you give a brief smile before you begin to turn around. But before you’re able to leave Dewey’s trailer, you hear his voice again. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stephen’s off at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all that you’ve put him through. But you also didn’t feel prone to declining it like you usually would be. 

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually,” there was still a bit of reluctance in your voice but it still held honesty. You were feeling something indescribable. You don't think you have ever felt it before, or maybe you just never felt it often. Dewey cared about you. He wanted to be there for you. It was a strange feeling, but not a dreadful one. 

You spent the remainder of your night in Dewey’s trailer; you talked and joked with one another as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. You always ate dinner alone. No one was ever around to eat with you and it didn’t take long for you to get used to it. It was different eating dinner with Dewey. To have someone to share a meal with. It was just a matter of whether it was a good or bad difference. 

Maybe for once you shouldn’t dread on your spiraling thoughts and enjoy the moment.

The next morning, you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. You lazily pushed yourself up by your elbows, leaning forward and rubbing your eyes with one of your hands. “Damn toaster!” You heard Dewey curse before you heard something clattering. You pushed your blanket off of you before rolling off of the mattress and onto the floor then got up to see what was going on. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once he saw you before continuing to whack his toaster. 

“No. You’re good,” you yawned. “But—uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked between him and the toaster with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve had this hunk of junk for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered with a huff as he continued to hit the toaster's side. 

“I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

He waved his hands up in the air, purposely dropping the screwdriver he had on to the counter in the process. He let out a defeated sigh as he said, “Forget it,” pushing the toaster away from him. “I have to grab a few things. Are you going to be fine here or do you want me to drop you off?” 

You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. “I”ll be fine,” you said and he patted your shoulder as he made his way towards his keys. 

“Breakfast is on the table—I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving through the trailer door.  As soon as he left, you went for his tool box. You remembered seeing it the first time you came over. After grabbing the tool box, you grabbed the toaster and got to work. It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you finished, you had a little over ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster works,” he said with shock. This toaster was complete garbage just a few hours ago. What happened? He looked over to see you with your nose in your book, not paying him any mind. Then it dawned on him and he couldn't help the smile that grazed his face as he looked at you. “Thanks, kid.” 

“Didn’t do anything,” you simply replied before getting up from your mattress and grabbing your light jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” you reached for the handle before pausing. “I'll be back in a few,” you then added before leaving.

Dewey was still admiring his toaster when you returned.

-----------

A/N: tara and r are both sarcastic little shits in different fonts

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga @rroyale-109 @alliecavell

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #scream fanfic #let the light in au

[firewasabeast]

Calm My Aching Heart

(Part 3 of my wedding series. You can start from part one here. They can all be read separately, or together.)

ao3 link or read below

Summary:

With the wedding getting closer, Buck knew it was time to let the rest of his family at the 118 know that his parents decided not to attend.

Four days to the wedding, and the team was driving back from a call when Buck decided to let them in on what was happening.

It happened fairly naturally, which he was thankful for.

They were all discussing the rehearsal dinner, which was coming up in just a couple of days, when Chimney asked what time his parents were arriving in town. He had expected to hear from them by now, figuring they'd want to stay at his and Maddie's place.

“They're, uh, they're not,” Buck replied.

“Not what?” Chimney asked.

“They're not arriving. They're not coming to the wedding.”

They all stared at him for a moment before Hen spoke up. “Wait, are you serious?”

Buck nodded. “They have a- a cruise,” he explained for the third embarrassing time this week. “Which reminds me, I have two extra seats, and two extra plates of food that's been paid for, if you guys know anyone who could fill up those spot's that'd- that'd be great.”

“Hold on just a second,” Eddie said, waving his hand out. “You gotta explain this a little better. Your parents aren't coming to your wedding because of a cruise?”

“Yeah, that- that about covers it.”

“Does Maddie know?” Chim asked, paling.

“No. And do not tell her.”

“Buck!”

“Chim, I'm gonna tell her,” Buck explained, “but I haven't been able to see her. This isn't something I can explain over the phone. I- I'm having lunch with her tomorrow. I'll say something then.”

“I'm supposed to hold this in until tomorrow?!”

“You're working until six in the morning,” Buck reminded him. “You'll barely see her before our lunch.”

“She's gonna call!” Chimney exclaimed. “She's gonna call and she'll hear it in my voice. She'll know, Buck. She'll know.”

“Get ahold of yourself, man,” Eddie said, smacking the back of his hand against Chimney's chest.

“Cap, you're being a little quiet about this,” Hen noticed.

“Cap actually already knew,” Buck explained as Bobby twisted in his seat so he could better face the group. “I told him a couple days ago.”

“A couple days?!” Chimney yelled.

“Buck filled me in,” Bobby replied, “and it wasn't my place to say anything, to anyone.”

“Bobby and Athena are actually going to walk me down the aisle in my parents place,” Buck continued. “Everything's been taken care of, except the extra seats.”

“I'm sorry,” Eddie started, a scowl on his face, “is no one else pissed about this? I mean, what the hell?”

Buck let out a humorless laugh. “I've had a few days to be pissed about it. And embarrassed. And sad. All those fun emotions.”

“Is that why you were so quiet the other day?” Hen asked. Her voice was always so calming to Buck when he was stressed.

“Yeah. I had just found out the night before. S- Sorry about snapping at you guys, by the way.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” Chimney replied. “I know a couple of people who do need to be sorry, but you're not one of 'em.”

“Should I call them?” Eddie offered. “I feel like it's my duty, as best man, to call them and make some very valid points as to why their reasoning is stupid.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “No one's calling them, and technically you're one of my four best people, because I couldn't choose between you, Maddie, Christopher, and Hen.”

Chimney gave him a smile. “Feelin' the love right now.”

“I can't help Tommy stole you to his side so we'd both have four people!”

“Mhm.”

“But we all know I'm the real best person and I can call them.”

“Tommy already offered that, Bobby and Athena did too, and I'm pretty sure at some point Athena even mentioned serving them with a warrant.”

Bobby nodded. “She did.”

“But no one is doing any of that. I- I appreciate the gesture, but no.”

Hen raised a hand, stopping the back and forth. “Serious question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think-” She paused, sighed. “Do you think they could be doing this because they're biphobic or homophobic?”

Buck shook his head, glancing out the window before turning back to them. “No, I think... I think they're doing this because they're them, and they'll always be them. M- Maybe they think about Daniel, or something? How he'll never have a wedding. I don't know. All I know is I- I can't let it ruin my wedding, because marrying Tommy is the only thing that matters to me right now.”

Bobby reached a hand back, patting Buck on the shoulder. “It'll be a perfect day, kid. We'll all make sure of it, won't we, guys?”

“That's right!”

“No doubt.”

“We've got ya, Buckaroo.”

Buck smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

As they pulled into the station, they filed out of the firetruck one by one. Silently, they waited for Buck to exit and, once he did, they pulled him into a big group hug. It made him both laugh and tear up at the same time.

His heart hurt. Thinking about his parents not being there for his wedding made him feel like gum on the bottom of someone's shoe. All those thoughts and feelings he'd worked through in therapy, often with his parents by his side, had come rushing back in the past few days. But, in these moments, when he was with Tommy, or Bobby and Athena, or his family at the 118, he felt loved. Truly loved.

When they began to break apart, Ravi, who was just starting his shift, walked up to them with a confused smile on his face. “I don't know what's happening, but I want in,” he said, stretching out his arms and forcing them all back into another group hug.

As they squeezed Buck even tighter, he felt a calmness that he hadn't felt in days, and he thought maybe if they just kept hugging him, it could take all the pain away.

#911 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #tevan #buck x tommy #buck and tommy #the whole gang is here

[allthingsfangirl101]

Enemies to Lovers – Joe Keery

I have lived next to Joe Keery for two years and those two years have been hell. He has parties every weekend, trashes the hallway, blasts music, slams doors, smokes, makes passive-aggressive comments when I run into him, and is just a horrible neighbor.

"Up early and out early. Like always, Ms. Y/L/N," Joe said as soon as I left my apartment. I looked up and saw him unlocking his door.

"Up late and home late. Like always, Mr. Keery," I sighed as I locked the door. I turned around, my heart sinking into my stomach when I saw the bruise on his cheek and the bandage wrapped around his wrist.

"Are you alright?" I asked. My question made him freeze. He glanced at me before down at his wrist.

"Oh," he said slowly. He looked up at me and smiled softly, "I'm fine. Just a stupid accident on set that I made worse."

"How'd you make it worse?"

"I got drunk," he laughed. I smiled but quickly stopped.

"You should get some sleep," I said, clearing my throat.

"And you should get to work," he said, matching my tone.

I walked toward the elevator as Joe walked into his apartment. As I headed to work, I went back over my and Joe's strange interaction that morning.

I went through my day, forcing myself to forget about my neighbor. After a long shift, I happily left for the day. I got home, my entire body aching. As I unlocked the door, Joe left his apartment.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," he teased. I nodded but didn't say anything. "You okay?" He asked as I opened my door.

"Just tired," I shrugged.

"From shopping all day?" He smirked. I glared at him before walking into my apartment and slamming the door behind me.

Well, never mind. It looks like that moment of weakness Joe had this morning was just that. A moment.

* * * * *

I went about my normal week and it wasn't until the weekend that I noticed I hadn't seen Joe since the other day. I walked into my apartment Friday night with a fresh bottle of wine and some takeout.

The takeout was finished and I was working on the bottle of wine when there was a crash outside.

"Actor Boy is home," I mumbled. I sighed when there was another cash. "And drunk."

I started to stand up but giggled when I drunkenly fell back onto the couch.

"I guess I am too," I laughed. I jumped when there was a loud knock on my door. I sighed and slowly stood up. Once I had my bearings, I walked to the front door. I reached for the handle but froze when I heard his voice.

"Y/N! Open the damn door!"

I took a step back, my hands instantly starting to shake. Everything froze as he continued to pound on my door. I held my breath, silently praying for him to leave.

"Hey!"

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard Joe. I looked at my watch and mumbled under my breath, "What are you doing home? Please go back to work."

"Go away," my ex-boyfriend Scott laughed.

"Please go, Joe," I whispered. "I'm begging you."

"No," Joe said flatly. "What are you doing here? And why are you knocking on that door like an ass?"

"This doesn't concern you," Scott spat at him.

"Yeah, it does," Joe responded, his anger slowly rising.

"Oh, really?" Scott laughed. "Are you dating my leftovers?"

"You're the dumbass who lost a five-star meal."

I didn't know if I should be flattered or offended. Joe was standing up for me, but it kind of felt like an insult.

"I threw it out when it lost its flavor," Scott said through bared teeth.

That was definitely an insult.

"Wait, what?" Joe asked with the sole purpose of pissing Scott off. "I'm sorry, man. You kinda lost me. Are you saying you dumped Y/N?"

My heart flipped when Joe started laughing. "Yes," Scott seethed. "I dumped her."

"You see," Joe sighed, "I just can't believe that. I don't believe that you would dump a girl as gorgeous as Y/N. She would definitely dump you when she realized you were a piece of drunk shit that probably never got her to finish. . ."

I swung the door open, knowing that what Joe was saying was only going to end one way. And I was right. Scott had his fist clenched and his arm raised, but he stopped himself when he heard my door open.

"There it is," he said, breathing heavily as he turned around. I glanced behind him at Joe. He took a step closer, carefully watching me.

"What do you want, Scott?"

"I wanted to allow you to beg for me back," he slurred. Joe was watching us closely with his fists clenched.

"I don't want you back."

I gasped and took a step back when Scott's drunk glare darkened. "You don't want me back," he seethed. "Wow. You ungrateful little. . ."

He raised his hand again but he didn't stop himself. My eyes widened when I realized it was Joe who stopped Scott by grabbing his elbow.

"I know you weren't about to hit a woman," he threatened. "You sure as hell weren't going to hit that woman."

"I told you, Hollywood, this doesn't concern you." Scott tore his elbow out of Joe's hand and took a step closer to me. Joe didn't let him get any closer. My heart jumped into my throat when Joe instantly put himself between me and Scott.

"It concerns me when you're threatening a woman," Joe said, the tone of his voice changing again. "It definitely concerns me when the woman you're threatening is my neighbor."

"Neighbor," Scott laughed. "I'm sure Hollywood's Party Boy just loooves living next to Nerdy Stay-at-Home Bookworm. I bet she complains about your partying. How many?"

"How many what?" Joe asked through clenched teeth.

"How many times has she called the cops on you, Keery?" Scott smirked. "How many times has she demanded you turn down the music or stop leaving empty kegs in the hallway or having sex in the elevator?"

"The only woman I've hooked up with in the elevator is Y/N," Joe said making my stomach flip.

We have never done anything close to hooking up in the elevator or anywhere else in the building. He clearly said that for one reason and one reason only; to get under Scott's skin. And it worked.

"Y/N hates hooking up anywhere other than the bedroom," Scott said, his voice dropping.

"Maybe all she needed was the right guy to take her in the elevator," Joe smirked.

I gasped when Scott's glare darkened. I took a step closer to Joe, gently putting my hands on his shoulder blades. "Joe," I whispered, "Please don't push him."

"Alright," Joe sighed. "You're making my girl nervous so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

I was too scared of Scott's murderous glare to react to Joe calling me his girl.

"Leave?" Scott laughed. "I'm not going anywhere until I talk to her."

"Well, that's a problem."

"And why is that, Lover-boy?" Scott asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because I'm not letting you talk to her."

For once, Joe's tone made me nervous. I looked around and saw the glare on his face. As he stared down my ex, he reached behind himself and grabbed my hand.

"I'm only going to tell you one more time," he threatened. "Leave our place or I swear, you'll never be able to use that hand to pleasure yourself again."

"Our place?"

I caught on to that too.

"You two live together?!"

I knew it was going to happen before Scott even made a move. I guess Joe knew that too because he instantly reacted. He pushed me further behind him and hit Scott's jaw before he could do anything.

I stood there, frozen against my front door, as Scott fell to the floor.

"Guess I'm going to have to give you one last warning," Joe said, his voice dark. "Leave Y/N alone or you'll only be known as the loser ex who got his ass kicked by her current boyfriend."

Without looking at me, Joe grabbed my hand and pulled us into my apartment. He let go of my hand and instantly ran his fingers through his hair. I watched as he angrily paced back and forth across my living room.

"Thank you," I whispered with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. My voice made him look up at me.

"Of course," he said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yep," I said as I tightened my arms and focused on my feet. I held my breath when Joe's shoes came into view.

"Y/N," he said under his breath. "Look at me. Please?"

I took a shaky breath and struggled to hide my tears as I looked up at him. His eyes softened when he saw the expression on my face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. Before I could lie and tell him I was fine, he said, "It's okay if you're not. Talk to me, Y/N."

"It's nothing," I started to say.

"Come on, Y/N," Joe sighed. "At least tell me who that guy was."

Joe's face dropped when he figured it out for himself. He took a step closer to me and lowered his voice. "I was right," he whispered. "That guy is your ex."

I bit my lip as the tears started to spill even though I tried to stop them. Joe reached up and gently caught one.

"He used to hurt you."

He didn't say that like it was a question. Then again, from everything that just happened, it wasn't that hard to figure out.

"Listen to me, Y/N," he said under his breath, "he will never hurt you again. Alright? I promise."

"You can't promise that," I sighed. He reached over and grabbed my hands, making me look at him.

"The next time you see him, even if it's across the street, you call me."

"But. . ."

"Promise me," he cut me off. "The next time you see him, you call me."

"I promise."

We stared at each other, the tension thick. For some reason, I spoke up.

"You want a beer?"

"I could go for a beer," Joe chuckled.

* * * * *

Joe and I ended up drinking and watching a movie. As the credits rolled and my mind incredibly hazy from the drinks, I looked over and my stomach did some weird flip. I gasped when Joe looked over at me.

"You good?" He asked.

"You can go home now," I said, my heart sinking at those words. I looked at him to see him with an odd look on his face.

"Is that what you want?" Joe asked.

"I figured you'd want to go home," I shrugged. "It's been a weird and long night. You've already done enough. . ."

"I'm not going anywhere if you feel safer with me here," he said, gently cutting me off. His eyes widened like he just realized what he said. He opened his mouth to take back what he said, but I spoke up.

"I do." I paused before adding, "Are you okay with staying?"

"I'll stay for as long as you want me."

Joe's eyes glanced down at my lips. When he looked back up at my eyes, he slowly leaned in. I had my chance to stop him, but I didn't. Soon, his lips were pressed against mine.

Part 2

#joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joe keery fanfic #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington

[starringthesturniolos]

but its warmer in my arms- chris sturniolo

baby its cold outside part 2

summary- you and chris have a talk about why he is the way he is.

I open my eyes to see Chris, only to find his side of the air mattress was empty. His words from last night immediately come to mind.

"I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry"

A thousand new question sprung up in my head. Is he telling the truth and if he is then why was he always so mean to me? But most importantly, why am I giving into him so easily?

After the way he's treated me for the past years, he shouldn't be able to hold me, hell, he shouldn't even be able to touch me. So why did I let him? And then it dawned on me. I'm in love with Chris.

That's why I hang on to every word he says. That's why his actions make or break my day. It's why his stare heats up my body, and why I enjoyed being in his arms last night.

"I'm in love with Chris." I say it out loud in complete disbelief.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" Chris says while barging into the tent. I jump and turn around to face him. I look at him carefully to see if he heard what I said, but his nonchalant attitude says otherwise.

Anddd he's back to normal. I roll my eyes and ignore his question. "Where were you this morning?"

"What, you miss me?" he says while looking me up and down in a teasing way with a stupid smirk on his face. Fine, two can play at that game. If he wants to fake flirt, he can be my guest.

"Maybe I did" I say while impersonating his smirk.

He chuckles in disbelief at my comment and then sits down next to me on the air mattress. "Well, I'm right here now." he says. Somehow I can't find a way to respond to him, so I stay quiet. For a while, we just sit in silence and listen to the birds outside. For once, it was peaceful. But the whole time my mind was wandering, begging to ask questions.

"Did you mean what you said last night? That you don't hate me?" I whisper not wanting to break the delicate moment.

He smiles and lets out a breath. "I think we both know I don't hate you, Y/n."

While it's true that most people don't sleep next to the people they hate, it doesn't explain the other things. The picking me apart, leaving me out, or simply pretending I don't exist. Those things all seemed a lot like hate. So why does he think it should be obvious he doesn't hate me?

" I mean yeah we cuddled sure-" he cuts me off, like he always does. His intrusive thoughts getting the better of him. " Ew, don't call it that. That word is so weird. "cuddles" "

"Oh, grow up. that's what we did." I deadpan before continuing on. " Anyway, we cuddled, and it was nice. But that doesn't explain all the other shit you've done to me." I say exasperatedly.

"If you don't hate me, then why do you have to act like it" I say turning my whole body to him and looking into his eyes. He looks down to his lap in shame.

"I don't know." he whispers, eyebrows raising slightly. I laugh out loud. "Oh, you don't know, well that's just awesome." I wait and see if he's going to say anything else but he's still just avoiding my gaze. Annoyance bubbles in my chest.

"So you just pretended to hate me for no reason, got it" . I'm starting to get pissed off, so I get up to leave but Chris stops me. He grabs my wrist in a firm but gentle grasp.

"Wait" he looks up at me from where he was on the mattress. "Don't go. " he mutters, his eyes desperate.

"Then explain" I reply stubbornly. I go to sit down and he drops my wrist. He looks back down at his lap, his hair shielding his face again.

"When I first met you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen." he says quietly. My eyes widen in shock. He made me feel so inferior that day. "But you basically said I was ug-"

"I know what I said Y/n" he cuts me off but then pauses before he continues. "I say a lot of things I don't mean. But you already knew that." he says and then lifts his head up to meet my eyes again. Remorse and intensity were in them.

" I didn't want you to see how I really felt, so I pretended I didn't want anything to do with you.", he breathes out. His eyes travel my face looking for a reaction before landing on my lips. My heart beat quickens and I unconsciously lean in. Is he trying to say, what I think he's trying to say

"And how did you feel?" you whisper with your faces nearly inches apart. He smiles softly before attaching his lips to mine. His lips are soft and he's kissing me gently. My hands immediately travel up his shoulders into his hair and he deepens the kiss. I feel the passion and the want in all his kisses, confirming his confession. Tears start to stream down my cheeks. This is all I've ever wanted

Chris pulls away and cups my cheeks while whipping away my tears. "Did that answer your question?"

And then I laugh. A real, genuine one. "Yeah I think so. But I want to hear you say it." He smiles and then leans in again. Our foreheads connect, and I can feel his lips brush against mine as he says it.

"I love you. More than you'll ever know"

My eyes start to water again and I swallow. " I love you too, Chris" .

And with that he indulges in another kiss. This time he grabs my waist and pulls me into his lap. Who knew all this could happen in one camping trip??

@sturnstvr

@xoxotaylynn

Part 2, I hope you guys liked it. I just started writing, so if you read any of my fics I would love to hear feedback!! I want to get better at writing so I can use all the advice I can get. Love you guysss

#chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

[illubean]

Omg the zoldyck!reader hcs were so cute!! If there aren't too many requests rn can you do something where reader went to the hunter exam to keep illumi from fucking w/ Killua too much? i.e reader knows pin guy is illumi but won't tell Killua because they don't wanna get murked and is also secretly communicating w/ illumi.

Killua's Defense

Characters: Killua Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck Type: Oneshot, Gn!reader, Zoldyck!reader

HAHA SORRY THIS ONE TOOK SO LONG IT TOOK A LOT OF THOUGHT

Warnings: Illumi being a poopie head

Being a descendant of a well known family of assassins meant a lot of things. It meant you were destined to continue the family business, get payed by random people without questioning their motifs but also a lot of times it required you to travel. Your family got requests and offers from all over, meaning easy access to round trips is very beneficial.

Which is why you along with your twin brother decided to take the exam. He was much more serious about the whole assassin thing than you though. To him, the family and his job was what made up his entire life and in his mind there was no room for anything else. You, however, thought there was more to life and fully supported the idea of having hobbies and making friends.

Since he was so serious, Illumi decided to alter his appearance for the duration of the exam. You honestly didn't see much of a point in this, especially considering there were very few if not zero people who knew the faces and identities of the Zoldyck family. But whatever, it's his life.

Illumi's little disguised proved somewhat useful though, because your baby brother Killua happened to be there. You loved all your siblings dearly, but Killua always had a closer bond with you than anyone else. You were the only one who ever bothered playing with him while he was growing up, which naturally caused him to favor you over the rest of the family. You couldn't have been more proud of him when you found out he had run away from home. You fully supported him in taking control of his own life, hoping he'll end up finding something that really would make him happy.

Eventually, you parted ways with Illumi because his weird clown friend showed up. You kept in contact with him via cellphone, but knew you probably wouldn't use it very often.

When Killua first spotted you, he had no idea how to feel. You were his favorite sibling and he trusted that you wouldn't force him to do anything, but he still had his suspicions.

"What are you doing here? You're not here to take me back are you!?"

"No, Killua, I'm not. I just need a hunter license for a job."

He let out a sigh of relief before looking around and asking you another question.

"Illumi isn't here, is he?"

You felt bad for lying to him but at the same time it was probably best for him not to know. If he did, he would just be under unnecessary stress and it would cause an argument between you and your twin that you rather not have.

The next time you met up with Illumi was on Zevil Island. The two of you had allready collected the badges you needed and he was talking to freaky clown dude. You payed him no mind because you rather not interact with that guy.

"I take it you've seen Killua around," you stated.

"Yes, I have. And I intend to bring him back home after the exam is over."

"Stop meddling in his life Illumi. He's old enough to think for himself and if he decides he doesn't want to be at home then-"

"That's not how father raised us, Y/n. It is our job to serve our family and carry on it's legacy," he says, cutting you off while beginning to dig.

"I'm going to sleep until the deadline," he then turns to his friend. "Best of luck."

And with that, he buried himself underground. You huffed in annoyance and clenched your fist before yelling at the pile of dirt before you.

"Dad didn't raise us to be control freak manipulators either!! You- you...you gopher!!"

Your brother's jester friend chuckled at you, causing you to shoot him a glare before storming off.

As the final phase of the exam rolled around, things weren't looking too good. Killua's next opponent just had to be Illumi. didn't it? You watched with an unsettling feeling at the bottom of your stomach. Your poor baby brother stood there trembling as Illumi spoke.

"You're not cut out to be a hunter. You were born for one purpose; to be an assassin."

At this you took a step foreword.

"That's enough Illumi. Mom only wanted you to check on him, this is too far."

He ignored you as he continued his speech.

"You're a puppet of darkness, devoid of passion. There is nothing you desire, nor is there anything you wish for. As one who lives in the shadows the only pleasure you're capable of is derived from causing death. Because that's how dad and I raised you."

You grit your teeth at this before taking another step towards the ring, getting stopped by a man and reminded of the rules. If you stepped on to the ring you would be disqualified.

Before you could start screaming your head off at your deranged twin, Killua began to stand up for himself. You couldn't be prouder of him for finding out what he wanted from life.

Then Illumi starts to tear Killua down again. Some tall guy with glasses begins to yell words of encouragement at Killua. After Illumi's threat to kill Gon, you stood protectively in front of the door along with 3 of the other contestants.

"Oh what a pain. I need to acquire a hunters license right now so I can do my job. But if I kill them, I'll fail, and Kil will pass automatically. Oh no, the same thing will happen if I kill gon! Hm.....wait! I'll pass the exam then kill Gon!"

"You know you could've kept that monologue to yourself, right?" You sassed. "Even if you do pass and go after Gon, I won't let you."

"Poor, little Y/n. You've always been so soft. Your emotions is what makes you weak."

"Shut up! You're supposed to have our family's best interest in mind, right? Then let Killua go out and make friends! It's his job to decide what he wants."

The black haired man simply chooses to ignore you and continues to threaten Gon's life. And to antagonize Killua. Everything you and glasses guy were yelling from the sidelines went in one ear and out through the other as Killua gave in to the pressure of Illumi's aura and forfeit the match.

"Haha, I lied Kil. I was never going to kill Gon. That was only a test to see what your made of, and now I know for certain. You are simply not qualified to make friends. Not that you need any."

As both of them left the ring you could tell something was off with your younger brother. You glared at Illumi, your face saying 'I'll deal with you later' but he payed no mind. Right when the next match was about to begin, Killua walked up and killed the old man without uttering a single word and left the facility.

He was now disqualified.

Imagine your surprise when you saw Gon march in and demand that Illumi apologize to Killua. And how you were even more surprised that he not only managed to flip a grown man, but also break his arm.

As you watched the little green boy confront your brother and listened to the blonde one along with the glasses guy try to reason with Netero, you were happy he was able to find such good friends. Gon was a good kid with pure intentions, and the other two were willing to publicly defend him.

After the whole orientation thing, Gon and Co. approached Illumi to ask about where Killua might be as you stood off to the side. As they left you followed them, waiting until Illumi was out of earshot to call for Gon's attention.

"Huh?"

"If you want to get to Kukuroo mountain there's a tour bus that takes you to the outside of our property. You'll need to pass through our testing gates to reach the estate or else our 900 pound guard dog will kill you."

"Oh, thanks a lot! But why are you helping us?"

"Because Killua could really use friends like you guys. You're a good kid and I trust that you'll make him happy. I would lead you there myself but I have my other brother to deal with, good luck."

You stormed back towards Illumi and slapped him in the back of the head. He let it happen of course, considering he could hear your angry footsteps from a mile away. No matter how angry you were at him, there wasn't much you could do. Fighting him would be useless, considering you're both at about the same strength and skill level and verbally berating him doesn't have any affect. But you chose to do the 2nd one anyways.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You know, this is why you're Killua's least favorite. All you do is try to boss him around and control his life. Seriously, do you have anything better to do?"

"Kil is the next in line to be the head of our family, I'm just making sure that he will be able to do so without any distractions."

"Newsflash Illumi: he's 12. You're 24. If anything, you should be next so why don't you go find a wife or something. And how come you're allowed to have your fruity party clown friend but Killua can't have any? Seriously, I much prefer the boy over that creep."

Illumi stopped walking and turned towards you.

"Hisoka is an acquaintance. Not a friend."

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Defend your jester boyfriend," you say, rolling your eyes. You stepped closer to the man before you and looked him in the eyes as you spoke once more.

"Let Killua have this. If you decide to go after him, trust me you will be dealt with."

#hxh 2011 #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #illumi zoldyck #hxh illumi #hunter x 2011 #hunter x hunter fanart #hxh killua #hxh fanfic #killua x reader #killua zoldyck #killua hunter x hunter #killua x y/n #killua x you #killua #killua hxh #illumi #illumi x reader #illumi hxh

[serickswrites]

Failed

Warnings: captivity, torture, gun, gunshot, wounds, bleeding out, mcd, failed escape, failed rescue, hurt/no comfort

Whumper sauntered towards Whumpee. "I warned you what would happen if you tried to escape. I warned you, didn't I, Whumpee?" They held the gun loosely in their hand as they stared down at Whumpee.

Whumpee lay face first in an ever growing pool of their blood. They didn't even attempt to rise as they struggled to breathe. Whumper was a good marksman, the bullet tearing a large whole in the left side of Whumpee's chest.

"You just had to test me, didn't you." Whumper kicked out at Whumpee, their foot connecting with Whumpee's cheek. Whumpee's body rolled with the motion as they moaned. "You just had to go and try to make a break for it." They ground their foot into the hole in Whumpee's chest.

Whumpee couldn't even muster the breath to scream out their pain. Whumpee gasped for air beneath Whumper's foot. They could barely feel anything. Could barely think. Could barely do anything to fight the darkness that had come to claim them. Whumpee's breath went out in a choking sigh.

Whumper leaned down and cupped Whumpee's cheek. "You are a sorry sight, aren't you." Whumper waited for Whumpee to blink up at them. To continue to gasp for pain. But as they stared down into the empty eyes, Whumper realized Whumpee had taken their last breath.

Whumper pinched Whumpee's face at the jaw, turning Whumpee's limp head to each side, just to be sure. They dropped Whumpee's head violently. "Such a waste. I wanted to have more fun with you before Caretaker got here." They kicked Whumpee hard. Whumpee's body rolled to the side, stopping as Whumpee lay face down in their bloody pool once more.

Before Whumper could kick Whumpee again, they heard the door to their compound burst open. They braced themself for the oncoming storm that was Caretaker. Whumper took aim at the entryway to where they stood over Whumpee's body.

"Freeze," they said as Caretaker rounded the corner, their eyes blazing.

"Fuck you, asshole. I'm here to save Whumpee. I won't let you stop me." Caretaker held their own weapon, though they hadn't aimed it at Whumper. Whumper realized Caretaker hadn't looked down at their feet. Hadn't looked down to see what they had wrought.

Whumper smirked. "Oh, I don't think I'll be the one stopping you. Take a good look." With great flourish, Whumper bowed and stepped over Whumpee's body. They kicked at Whumpee once more so that Whumpee rolled over and Caretaker could see their sightless eyes.

Caretaker gave out a strangled cry as they dropped to their knees, their weapon forgotten in hand. "No! No! DEAR GOD NO!"

"Does it pain you to know that I stared into their eyes as they died?" Whumper cackled. "That I watched the life fade from them? That I heard their death rattle? That I stood over them, triumphant, and they knew they were beaten at last?"

"You monster!" Caretaker sobbed. They reached a hand out to Whumpee, but froze as Whumper waved their gun in the air.

"That may be, but I'm still alive. And Whumpee is not. The question is, do you want to be joining them?"

"Fuck you," Caretaker spat.

"You failed, Caretaker. You failed just as they failed." Whumper smirked as Caretaker flinched. "They ran, tried to escape me, but I hunted them down. And succeeded. As always.

"They ran because they couldn't hold out on you saving them any longer. They couldn't wait. And so they ran. And I stopped them. I stopped everything for them."

Caretaker stared at Whumpee with tear filled eyes. "Please, let me," their voice broke, "let me take their body home. You can do what you want with me after that, I don't care. But please, let me take them home."

Whumper considered a moment. "I don't think so. I want you to sit with your failure a little bit longer." They held out their hand for Caretaker's weapon. "Give me your gun."

Caretaker ignored Whumper.

"Give me your gun, or you won't like what I do to them," Whumper growled. "They may be dead, but I don't have to keep their body whole. I could chop them up into little bits and scatter them everywhere for you to find. Would you like that, Caretaker?"

"No! Please, please," Caretaker stared up at Whumper, holding out their gun to Whumper. "Please, don't hurt them anymore."

Whumper yanked the gun from Caretaker's hand. They shoved Caretaker toward Whumpee. Caretaker tried, but failed to keep themself upright and landed in Whumpee's blood. Caretaker's wails of mourning echoed in Whumper's ears as Whumper left.

"Enjoy your failure, Caretaker."

Whumper didn't say about what they had seen in Whumpee's eyes as Whumpee died. Whumper didn't say that though they had won, Whumpee had denied them one final victory. Whumper didn't say that as Whumpee had died, relief flooded their eyes as they took that raspy breath, knowing that Whumper could no longer hurt them. Whumper wouldn't give Caretaker that satisfaction. Not when they could watch the despair utterly destroy Caretaker.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw torture #tw gun #tw gunshot #tw wounds #tw blood #tw bleeding out #tw mcd #tw failed escape #tw failed rescue #hurt/no comfort #june of doom #june of doom 2024 #day 1 #prompt: failed escape #queue

[3hks]

Flaws to Give to Characters II

When I first posted "Flaws to Add to Characters," it gained a lot more popularity than I thought it would! And since you all loved it so much, here's another one!

>>> Selfishness - When one becomes too focused on themselves, they start to ignore those around them who've helped along the way.

>>> Indecisiveness - When one can't make a decision, ultimately, they are stuck and unable to progress.

>>> Self-Centered - Self-centered people are often too consumed with themselves to worry about anything else. Sometimes it's similar to selfishness, and other times it's not. They may be too vain or too busy victimizing themselves to care about others.

>>> Gullibility - A seriously gullible person is easy to trick, manipulate, and hurt.

>>> Skepticality - People that are just too skeptical can be difficult to deal with because they seemingly have to question every action. There's always a motive behind kindness, right..?

>>> Bluntness - Though honesty is the best policy, bluntness is something else. Being too honest can be quite hurtful depending on the situation.

>>> Pushover - Not being able to say "no" when one wants to makes it difficult to be able to advocate for themselves. Additionally, they can get taken advantage of and used.

>>> Easily Offended - This person will absolutely take EVERYTHING personally. Those around them have to be careful about their words, actions, or even behavior because they will look too deep into the most non-meaningful actions. This is usually a result of insecurity.

>>> Overthinking - We all have our moments with this one. Overthinking can often lead to indecisiveness, ensuring that a decision won't be made in the future.

>>> Impulsivity - Sometimes it's better to just think things through. Being too impulsive can lead to unideal situations, events, and outcomes.

Whaddya think? Were these helpful? I'm thinking about continuing these series, but what do you think? (Not gonna lie, these posts help me get my ideas and thoughts in order too.)

Happy writing~

3hks <3

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #creative writing #writing inspo #character flaws #writing characters #writing characters flaws #examples of character flaws #character flaws examples #writing ideas #character flaws ideas

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton #the informants are ghosts #the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly #particularly when you don't know about the ghosts #danyal al ghul #damian wayne #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bruce wayne #this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs #like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something #danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you #batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it #danny: he wHAT #i wrote this instead of eating dinner #because drafts are for the mentally healthy #tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one #he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym

[moon7jay]

Taste (l.hs)

Warnings : cum eating, smut, heeseung is a munch, pure filth

Wc : 2.8k

"Let me push my face between your legs baby, this is torture"

your cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at your boyfriend's incessant whining.

Heeseung had been going at it for days. It started with the both of you making out for the very first time with your tongues and the moment he sucked your tongue into his mouth, he was groaning

"fuck you taste so good, bet you taste even sweeter down there baby" he had whispered, hands caressing your thighs desperately as if wanting to dive in between them right then and there.

You had shied away from his touch back then and refused. Too conscious of yourself. But you didn't have a clue that your boyfriend was going to be so dedicated to his cause cuz it had been literal days and you were hoping he would forget about it but here he was. Begging you to let him taste you, yet again.

You ignored him and continued to make your coffee, hoping he would catch the hint and drop it

"How long do u want me to jerk off to your panties? "

the spoon fell from your hands and clattered in the sink loudly, your mouth gaping wide open at his blunt and vulgar words. You turned around to face him, your ears burning red, mouth floundering for words as you processed the new information.

He watched your flustered form and chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow while he approached you slowly, trapping you against the kitchen counter, his bigger frame covering yours

"What? you think I'm joking? " He asked and you stayed quiet. Too stunned to speak.

It wasn't that you and heeseung hadn't done anything at all in the physical department. If kissing was something then you had done a lot of it. He would grope your chest and sometimes suck on your titties for hours, other times he would suck on your toes, always leaving an uncomfortable feeling between your legs.

That was all tho, that was all you both had done together when it came to intimacy. That's why learning that your boyfriend jerked off to you was something you hadn't thought about even in your wildest dreams.

He leaned his body closer to yours, face inches from your red and flustered one

"Have to lick on them multiple times just to get a speck of your taste baby" He whispered and your face was on fire, the tingling in between your legs making you squirm

"H-heeseung" You whispered, hands coming up to push him away while you looked anywhere but his face, too shy and embarrassed.

He was having none of it tho, big hands coming up to grab your jaw and forcing you to look at him. His eyes were darker than you had ever seen before, the intensity making a shiver run down your spine

"Help a man out yeah? you Just need to open your pretty legs and let me taste that pussy" He groaned

A gasp escaped your lips when you felt him grabbing your hips and hoisting your body up on the counter, settling in between your legs

"wanna tongue fuck you" he panted, running his hands up and down your exposed thighs, your shorts riding up from his rough movements. The way he was groping your body along with his filthy words had your head reeling. Your breath was becoming heavy and you felt wet. You were definitely wet down there. The delicious tingling intensifying in between your legs.

Your small fist hit against his chest once to gain his attention and his eyes were instantly on your face

"w-what if it's not pretty o-or doesn't smell nice" You questioned, finally letting your anxiety out in the open.

Heeseung leaned into you to kiss along your neck making you squirm, a whine building up in your throat at being touched so wontonly

"trust me baby I know you have the prettiest fucking pussy and you smell like fucking heaven, just had my nose buried in your pink lace a few hours ago in the shower" he mumbled and you gasped out loud at his words, trying to push him away

"heeseung what the fuck?? I wore it last night! It was unwashed!"

He grinned and groped your ass, pulling you closer to himself and at the edge of the counter "yeah baby I know, that extra flavor made me cum so fucking hard" He whispered over your lips before pulling you into a dirty kiss. His tongue tasting your hot mouth lewdly.

You felt mortified, suddenly overcome by an embarrassing heat filling up your lower region at his dirty confession and even though you wanted to protest and push him away, the feeling of his hands groping your body so desperately had you giving in

"o-okay just... I don't know what I'm supposed to do? " you confessed, embarassed and shy under his probing gaze.

Instantly he was gathering you up in his arms, bridal style , making you squeal

"what are you doing!"

But it seemed like he had stopped listening after you said okay. The only word that mattered.

It took his long ass legs a few strides to reach your bedroom and throw you onto the bed making you bounce slightly

You watched in awe as he hurriedly took off his pants, palming himself over his boxers, the bulge was big and visible making your mouth water and thighs clench.

"Just lay back and make pretty noises for me while I feast yeah? That's all you gotta do" he groaned, squeezing his bulge a little too tight

"fuck, even the thought of having you in my mouth is getting me so fucking excited" He panted.

The next thing you know, he was climbing on the bed to settle between your legs, parting them harshly, his heavy breaths falling on your inner thighs, hands impatiently tugging on your shorts, pulling them down your smooth legs.

Once they were off, it was just your panties separating his hungry mouth and your pussy. His eyes were hooded as he watched how soaked your core was, how wet and messy it was in anticipation of his tongue.

He ran an inquisitive finger over your slit from above your panties, just to get a feel of you and see how sensitive you really were

You gasped and moaned at his prodding finger touching you through your clothed core, watching how a shit eating grin took over his face upon feeling the height of your desire, his fingers drenched in your juices.

He was instantly pulling back and taking his fingers into his mouth, eyes falling shut and a moan ripping through his chest at your taste, hips bucking on their own. Fuck yeah. He needed to get his tongue down there before he exploded.

The sound of your panties being ripped apart had you squirming and moaning his name, legs falling open in invitation, you were beyond worked up now

His eyes bore into your bare pussy, tongue coming out to lick on his lower lip as he crawled closer to your fuck hole

You were embarassed, the way he was looking at your exposed sex making your ears turn red, what was he thinking?

His eyes flicked from your pussy to your red face a few times and he cursed

"So fucking sexy baby gonna make this pussy cum on my tongue so fucking hard" He growled and dived straight between your legs, his lips capturing your clit, sucking harshly on it

Your legs closed around his head at the sudden sensation and you screamed. It was too much, the stimulation on your sensitive clit was too much but you didn't want him to stop, the feeling of his mouth felt unfamiliar but needed. You needed it.

He groaned , rubbing his tongue over your swollen clit in eight figures, small cries leaving your lips at his desperation, hands coming down to tangle in his hairs, pulling him into you

"oh myy-" You squealed when he was moving down and penetrating your pussy with his tongue, flickering it inside your cunt.

His fingers dug into your thighs to open them further and get deeper into your folds, moving his tongue back and forth, slithering it inside your walls, slurping your juices

You thrashed and moaned, his name falling from your lips like a mantra but nothing could stop him now, his face was squished against your cunt, nose pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing back and forth on it to provide additional stimulation

It was too much, you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach.

You pulled his head closer to your pussy and he moaned, sending vibrations through you, the juices were now leaking at an embarrassing amount from your cunt

"fuck baby give it to me, taste so fucking good wanna taste your fucking cum" he panted pulling away, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he watched the way your back arched upon the intrusion on his long fingers inside your needy core

Your noises were becoming incoherent, eyes droopy and rolling back in your head upon feeling the way his fingers were fucking your pussy

"such a needy fucking cunt, so fucking creamy baby" he groaned and took your clit into his mouth again.

The combined assault of his tongue and fingers pushed you closer to your edge, hips thrusting up into his mouth, unaware of the way Heeseung's hips were grinding into the sheets to find some relief for his weeping cock.

He spit on your pussy and slurped on your juices again, rolling his tongue to mix your juices with his saliva, spread it around your gaping hole and sucking all of the mess back into his mouth, moaning into your folds.

He moved his fingers in and out rapidly, making a scream rip through your chest

"p-please please please"

"Yeah baby? fucking cum on my face let me taste that cum, come on fucking cum" he groaned, eyes fixed on your face and hips rutting against the bed to chase his own high

"Oh my g- Your voice cut into a high pitched pornographic moan as the knot in your stomach snapped and you came all over his mouth and fingers, hips bucking into his eager mouth.

Heeseung dived shamelessly into your juices to slurp and suck in your cum, groaning and rutting faster into the bed, cursing and panting in desire.

You were still riding your high when he was getting up urgently, pulling his boxers down and jerking his cock off on your pussy, his warm cum splattered all over your abused hole

"fuck yeah, shit baby so good" he moaned, his eyes rolling back, emptying his balls on your pussy, rubbing himself raw, letting hot lust and pleasure wash over his body. His face was wet from your pussy juices, the sight being so hot you had to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning.

When both of your breathing calmed down, he looked back at your pussy and groaned at the sight of his cum all over your stomach, hole and thighs.

He was diving down again to collect his cum mixed with your juices on his tongue and crawling up your body to pull you into a messy kiss. Exchanging your bodily fluids and tasting each other's cum lewdly, sucking on each other's tongue, groaning in carnal lust

The combined taste of each other in your mouths was so nasty it was starting to get you both hot again, his hips subtly grinding against your pussy while you wrapped your hands around his neck to pull him further into your mouth, not getting enough of his taste

"M-More" You moaned into his mouth and he cursed, reaching down with his fingers and collecting more of the splattered cum on your stomach and pussy, pushing the fingers into your Hungry mouth, watching with lust filled eyes how you sucked on them like a whore

"I wanna put my dick inside" he pants and you nod aggressively, moaning around his fingers at the mere thought of having him in you

"Yeah? your pussy is craving it too isn't it? hungry for sex? " He asked grinding his hips into your core, his bare cock rubbing into your bare pussy, coating itself in warm pussy juices

You nodded and wrapped your legs around his waist, showing him your eagerness for sex, bucking your hips up

"Fuck this , gonna pound your cunt" he cursed and thrusted inside your awaiting hole in one go, a sharp scream falling from your lips while his mouth fell open in a silent moan of relief and satisfaction

His brows furrowed and he started thrusting into your wet gummy walls without waiting for you to adjust. You cried in pleasure and pain, his size too big that it was tearing through your womb but the way his cockhead was nudging against your cervix had your eyes rolling back in pleasure

"fuck baby, fuck" he panted above you, his body sweaty, shirt hanging haphazardly over his frame, the only focus being your tight pussy gripping his cock.

His eyes bore into yours, faces inches apart while his balls slapped against your ass, hips snapping mercilessly, in and out. In and out.

The juices were squelching, you could feel your orgasm at the tip of your tongue and by the way his hips were stuttering, you knew he could too, your bodies running on pure lust and desire for sex. The heat reaching a fever pitch.

Your groins snapped against each other lewdly, your mouths open, wanting to kiss but everything felt so good you both couldn't help but moan into each other's mouth instead, not kissing but not wanting to pull away

"Mhmnnk fuuck gonna cum so much in this cunt" he groaned into your mouth huskily, his sweat dripping down onto your face.

Your nails dug into his neck, hips bucking up continuously and rapidly, meeting his every thrust halfway, chasing and chasing that high until both of you were moaning into each other's mouths, cumming together, making a mess all over the bed, hips still moving to ride out the primal feeling for longer.

Pleasurable sighs of satisfaction left your lips when he grinded into your heat again, his dick still hard inside of you

His spent body fell on yours and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, hips moving in you a few more times before he was pulling out of you and laying on your side, panting heavily.

You looked down and saw how hard his dick still was, nibbling on your bottom lip worriedly, did you not satisfy him?

"fuck" his voice pulled you out of your trance and you watched in awe as he took his cock into his palm and started jerking himself off

You sat up on your elbow and just watched, feeling hot, eyes running over his sweaty body and how his stomach clenched when he thrusted into his fist

"keep watching how I beat my meat for you baby, just keeping fucking watching I'm so close" He groaned and you looked at his face. His eyes were hooded and ran all over you with wanton desire as he bucked into his fist, the sight so hot it was making you light headed

"god you drive me crazy, gonna cum so hard again, gonna cum so much, gonna fucking-he moaned, his neck stretching back, his adam's apple bobbing harshly as his hips stilled and spasmed, hot white cum squirting out of his cock, covering his stomach and palms while he jerked himself off to completion. His dick slowly deflating.

He panted harshly and you rubbed his bicep to help him calm his breathing. You couldn't believe you had just had sex with your boyfriend for the very first time and it was so fucking hot. You had taken a total of 3 dicks in your whole life and to say that heeseung's dick was the only one to introduce you to pleasure would be an understatement.

As his breathing calmed down, he looked at you and grinned, pulling you closer to his body, caressing your sides softly "how was that?" He asked and you blushed, feeling shy all of a sudden

"So good hee" You mumbled and he chuckled, finding you adorable

"Yeah? wanna do it again? " he asked and you gasped, hitting his chest

"We just had sex, won't it be too much?" You asked, unsure.

He chuckled and fisted his dick, which was suspiciously getting hard again, hissing in overstimulation

"There's no such thing as too much sex baby, we do it whenever we want, as many fucking times as we want, as long as we fucking want" he whispered and turned you over, capturing your lips into his mouth, ready to take you again.

a/n : I'm going to disappear after posting this cuz I have exams this whole month, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enha #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung #heeseung hard hours #heesung enhypen

[yuukiiqwq]

Part 1

Suguru couldn't believe the words that came out of his best friend's mouth. What the hell did he just say? He was in love... with his sister??? Who, what, when, where, how, and why? Suguru mouth was open in shock as he stared at his best friend. Water dripping down his hand from the water bottle, he crushed.

"You're in love with my sister." Suguru started slowly. "And you decide to tell me right before our game?" He may sound calm to anyone else, but Satoru knows that tone. A tone of an underlying threat. Deadly.

"Would you look at the time our game is starting!" Satoru quickly finished changing and burst out the door before Suguru could chase him. Satoru did not need a beating right before the game. Then again, it was his fault (not that he would admit it) for suddenly blurting out his love confession to your brother.

Throughout the whole game, Suguru was glaring daggers at him. Even when they won the game, the atmosphere filled with cheers and joy, Satoru could feel the cold air radiating off his best friend. He wonders if he could successfully sneak away from his prying eyes to go hang out with you like he promised. First, he needs to find you, push these reporters away, and sneak away with you without Suguru interfering.

Satoru looked around the stadium for you until he finally caught sight of you. He then looked back at Suguru, who was also crowded by reporters. Perfect. The kind, caring gentleman he is won't push these reporters aside! Unlike Satoru, who's always rude, this won't affect his image. It's as if Suguru knew exactly what Satoru was thinking because Suguru immediately pulled out his charming smile to the reporters and said–

"I would love to continue talking to you all, but my sister is here today, and she's waiting for me to go celebrate together. I don't want to keep her waiting." His eyebrows furrows slightly, and his voice trembling. His eyes were glassy like just the thought of not spending time with his sister would make him cry. Being the stupid reporter they are, they believed him. Cooing at him, saying it's alright and how loving he was to want to spend time with his sister. They were charmed by his act. That cunning bastard.

"Since I can't talk to you all, Satoru would love to give an exclusive interview to you all!" This immediately caused all the reporters at him to suddenly rush Satoru, doubling the reporters surrounding him. Suguru smugly smiled at Satoru and mouth–"I'm not stupid Satoru."

He then sees you coming up to your brother, giving him a hug, and a congratulations. How he would kill for you to be next to him right now. For you to say his name and congratulate him. Satoru was going to push away all these reporters at all cost to get to hang out with you, but there was too many. He was getting pushed farther away from you. He could barely manage to hear the conversation the two of you were having.

"Your friend looks like he's suffocating from the reporters Suguru. Don't you think you should do something?" Your eyebrows furrowed in concern for him. "He said he wanted to hang out after the game, too."

"My dear lovely sister, let's go out for some nice fancy dinner tonight to celebrate." Suguru completely ignored your question, put his hand behind your back, and started to push you toward the exit.

Satoru couldn't do anything but watch Suguru push you away from him. This was torture. He finally managed to talk to you. You were so close yet so far away. Shoko did mention how overprotective Suguru was, but c'mon! He is his best friend! Surely he can trust him with his sister! Like what happened to trust!! Where was the trust in this friendship!!! Satoru can feel how happy Suguru was keeping you away from him. His best friend is the incarnation of the devil. He swears it. And on cue, Suguru turned his head around, looked Satoru dead in the eyes, and smiled smugly before exiting with you. Fuck incarnation of the devil. He was the devil.

Taglist:

@captainchrisstan @iheartlinds @allofffmypeaches @tojisworm-5 @quinnyundertow

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #satoru gojo drabble #gojo satoru drabble #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

[mrsbarnesblog]

i need help

summary: Rafe has a breakdown and he finally asks for help

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angsty and fluffy?, crying, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ward is the worst father (this is ward’s hate space btw💋)

a/n: I just want to baby him. so yeah, soft/clingy Rafe again because apparently, I can’t write anything else right now🙂

You were sitting on Rafe’s bed, patiently listening to his firm footsteps on the staircase. The room was dimly lit only by a lamp from the nightstand and you fought back an urge to fall on your back and fall asleep with your face in his pillow. 

Yet the harsh and cold voice made your head clear of your thoughts and you finally noticed your best friend walking into his own room. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe grumbled at you as soon as he slammed the door, turned the lock and turned around, only to see you sitting on his bed.

“What?” His bloodshot eyes were burning holes into you and you innocently blinked at him, not understanding why he was acting so weird.

“I said, what–”

“Don’t yell at me.” You interrupted him calmly. “We wanted to hang out; it’s been a few days since it was just the two of us. You never complain when I come here.”

“Ye-yeah, fuck…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You watched how Rafe started pacing around the room, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He was almost shaking, his hair looking like a mess, and you would’ve thought that he was on the verge of tears. “I’m not in the mood right now, okay? We’ll do it another time. Can you leave now? I– I need to be alone.”

“No, Rafe, I’m not leaving. What happened?” Your brows furrowed, concern and nerves bubbling inside of your body as you watched how your friend and the guy you had a crush on was slowly breaking down. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Y/N.” He mumbled, still not staying in one place. “Just go.”

“I told you no.” 

 “Why can’t you listen to what I’m fucking telling you?!” Rafe snapped, stepping closer to you as if he were trying to scare you away. Yet you remained still in your place, not even flinching. Your brows shot up in silent question,  eyes were glued to his face, and especially to the way his own eyes became more glassy and watery with every second. “Fuck, fuck—I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“Then don’t. You know I hate it when you’re doing it, Rafe.” You continued calmly. “Sit here and tell me what happened. I see that something’s wrong. It’s been that way for a long time, right? You’re acting differently… C’mere.” You patted the bed near you, giving Rafe a reassuring smile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N.” Sitting near you on the bed and holding his head in his hands, Rafe spoke so quietly that you could barely hear him. “I’m going insane. I have issues and nobody hears me.” You slowly, as if you were touching a wounded animal, put your hand on his back, slowly moving it up and down. 

“Tell me. I’m here and I hear you. Please tell me what’s going on.” You tried to sound as soft as you could, moving a little bit closer. “You know you can trust me.”

“There’s something wrong with me. I— I have thoughts in my head that I don’t like. They’re bad. They’re wrong. I don’t want to be violent or feel these things inside of me but I c-can’t stop. They’re stronger than I am and sometimes they’re messing with my head.” Rafe’s voice cracked at the end and you felt the violent beating of your heart in your chest. He sniffed a few times, desperately trying to be strong in front of you and to hide the disgusting things that were eating him up alive. 

“Are they dangerous to others or to you?” 

“Both.”

You slowly nodded, processing the information and trying not to show the way it actually freaked you out. Did you know that Rafe struggled with anger and was not everyone's favorite person? Well, yes. He was nothing but sweet to you, though. You saw that he was a nice person, with a good heart. The only thing that he wanted in return was to feel needed, important, and loved. 

And you always gave it to him. 

But realizing that there were problems so much deeper and that he was now screaming for help because he could not live like that anymore made you wonder how you could be so stupid to not notice the signs earlier.

“Did you talk to your dad about it? Maybe anyone else? Or is it just me? ” You finally reached Rafe's face with your hand, turning him in your direction. You’ve never seen him even shed a tear, not to mention the state that he was in right now and it was shocking how much it hurt you too. The look in his pretty eyes was so desperate and so hurtful that you felt sick.

“He told me to man up. Cool, right? Can’t even do shit without disappointing him. I–I said that I have problems, but he just ignored it. He told me to rest and that it'd be okay.” He smiled at you, even though tears were still freely streaming down his face. “I just thought that maybe once he would hear me. See me. Not Sarah. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He shook his head and looked down. “So it’s only you. Nobody really cares about me anyway, so...”

“Oh, Rafe… Come here.” He wasn’t resisting when you dragged him closer to you by his arm. No, instead, he wrapped his arms around you as if his life were depending on it. You hugged Rafe back, slowly lowering both of you on the bed, until he was lying almost on top of you with his face in the crook of your neck and your fingers slowly brushing through his hair.

What you noticed is that Rafe was always cautious with physical contact. Sometimes it seemed like he tried to be closer to you, sit near you, or casually play with your hands or hair, but the next day he was completely dispant and hesitant. 

It was obvious that now Rafe lowered his guards; he let you see the damaged parts of him and he craved your touch because it was the only thing that could ground him. 

“I need help. I’m tired of this shit in my head, and I don’t want to continue ruining my life with alcohol and drugs…but it just calms everything down for some time and I don’t know how to come out of this circle.” Rafe sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around you even more, until you were closer than you'd ever been before. Your own eyes were filled with tears, but you refused to show them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a disappointment. P-please don’t walk away.” 

You knew about Rafe’s lifestyle, but despite your words, he always made it seem like not a big deal, like something fun that he does at parties. Though now it was obvious that the facade that he had built was slowly falling down and drowning him in it too. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rafe. It’s not your fault. But you do need help, darling.” You whispered, pet name rolling from your tongue faster than you could’ve processed it. “It’s important that you understand it. And I’m not leaving. It’s the last thing that should be in your head.”

“I do. I want to get clean. I want to be normal. I just don’t know how.” 

“That’s okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Your dad may not hear you, but I do and I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together tomorrow, okay? Now you need to rest a little bit.” You reached the end of the bed, dragging a duvet and covering both of you with it. Rafe didn't move an inch from your warmth.

“You promise?”

“I promise, Rafe. You mean a lot to me; you know that, right? More than you think.” You whispered, soothingly brushing his blond hair again.

“You mean a lot to me too. More than you think.”    

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff

[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.0

wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two

a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)

cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.

“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 

“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.

“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 

“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”

“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 

“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 

“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 

“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 

You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.

“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 

Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.

“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?

“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?

“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.

“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.

“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.

After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.

You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 

“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.

“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.

“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.

“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?

“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.

You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”

“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 

“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.

“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 

The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.

“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.

“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.

“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.

“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.

He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”

“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”

“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 

“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.

“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.

“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.

You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 

He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.

After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.

The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,

Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.

The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”

Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.

His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 

Your breath hitches.

“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”

A whimper escapes you in response.

“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.

Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 

Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 

That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”

Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”

His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 

“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.

Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”

Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.

“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.

Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 

“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.

“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.

“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.

Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.

His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 

Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.

Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface

“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.

“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”

“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.

“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.

“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.

“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”

“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.

He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.

“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 

Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.

“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..

“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 

“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.

“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 

You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.

“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”

His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.

“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.

“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.

“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”

“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 

You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.

“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.

You smile.

“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.

“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 

“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 

“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”

“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 

“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”

You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.

“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.

“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”

“C-can you touch m-me, please?”

“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 

“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”

“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”

“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”

Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.

“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.

“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”

Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.

“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”

“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 

“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.

“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.

“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 

Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.

“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 

“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 

“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?

“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 

You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.

Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.

“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.

“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.

“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.

“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.

“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.

“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?

“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 

How dare he.

“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.

“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.

“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.

c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x you #harry x reader #harry styles x you

[lymtw]

Domestic drabble about Toji (mostly him being a needy hunk)

"Hey," Toji calls when he sees you walking in front of him, carrying a basket of clothes that just came out of the dryer. You don't hear him so you keep walking, only stopping when you hear a whistle that sounds like it's meant for a dog. You turn to him, a question mark decorating your face. He beckons to you, a mouthed 'come here' that you shake your head to and move on. "Come on, princess. Need to tell you something."

"You can't tell me from there? I have a lot to do, still."

"Don't wanna shout at you. I have manners."

You think back to the way he whistled to grab your attention and roll your eyes. You set the basket down on your bed and step back out to see what Toji needs.

"What?" Your hands are on your hips, waiting for him to answer.

"Come here, baby." He pulls on the knee area of your sweatpants, making your stumble forward.

"Toji," you giggle, as he pulls you until you fall into his lap. "What?" You repeat.

"Nothing, just missing you a bit, ma. You avoiding me?" He rests his hands on your waist, looking up at you with that gleam in his eyes. You know he normally looks at you this way when he wants something, and you feel so foolish for always giving in to him.

"I told you i'm busy. I have to finish folding the laundry, and I haven't even started dinner."

"Don't worry about that, right now. Looks like you could use a break. Don't you wanna stay a bit?"

"I do, but..."

"But, you love me and you'll spare me some company." His hands go under your shirt and squeeze your waist as he leans in to kiss your neck.

"T-Toji, this won't get done on time." Your arms wrap around his neck, your hands coming up to play with his hair as his lips continue to attack your neck.

"Mm," he hums, dismissively, continuing to drown himself in your scent. That little hum is his nonverbal way of saying 'and?'

"We'll have to order in for the third time this week." You gasp, his lips reaching a sensitive point. "I-It's not good for us."

"Mama..." he almost whines into your skin. "We've got it... under... control," he murmurs through kisses. "We have an excellent cardio routine, don't we?" He says, beneath your ear.

"Y-Yeah, I think so. But-"

Toji chuckles, "You think so?" He pulls back to see the honest look on your face. He looks like a wolf, ready to pounce on the little pleading bunny before him. His pupils almost completely devoured the green around them just from inhaling your irresistible scent and feeling your warm skin on his lips.

You look a little more shaken up than Toji, and he loves it. You're flustered, unable to respond to his question. You feel like there's cotton in your mouth, absorbing all the saliva in it, leaving you unable to cohere anything.

"You nervous, princess?" He grins like the big bad wolf he is, feasting on the way you swallow. Your fingers tremble as they rest on his shoulders.

"No. We've been together for years. I'm not." It took everything in you to declare that, but it was far from the truth.

"Oh yeah?" He says, a chuckle bubbling in his chest. He can see through this little facade of yours. It's in the way you avoid eye contact, the way your grip is loose on him, and as a result of the dryness in your mouth, you keep licking your lips.

Nonetheless, you nod in response to his question.

"Well... what if we switched positions," he says, flipping you so that you're laying on the couch, his body now wedged between your legs. You giggled at the swift movement, the smile dropping once you looked up. "I can watch you closely, and... you're stuck."

His hands maintain his balance by gripping the end of the couch, above your head. He towers over you, making you look so incredibly small beneath him.

"You're so pretty, ma. Could eat you up right now." He leans further down towards your face, gravity pulling his hair down so perfectly. "Could make you feel so good, if you let me."

You felt like you were sinking into the couch with how flustered you were, but Toji could see the needy twinkle in your eyes. Beneath this nervous, timid front, is a pretty girl who takes everything she's given.

#fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji #toji fic #toji fanfic #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #jjk fushiguro #dilf toji #jjk fic #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #gojo #gojo satoru

[wolfmoonmusic]

Misunderstandings

Summary: Sirius is yours and you are his. But do you both know that?

Request: Sirius and reader have a kind of an off and on flirtation/situationship thing going and he sees her going on a "date" with Frank Longbottom (personally I had headcanon that Frank was the fifth boy in the dorm along with the Marauders) in reality she's went on a pretend date to help Frank get ready for the real date he's taking her best friend Alice on and so Sirius gets jealous and wants to make things official before he loses her to someone else a little bit of angst with happy ending you know

Requested by: @jessiegerl

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: Readers parents hate her and well we all know how Sirius's Parents are.

w/c: 2.8k+

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<3

Sirius Black was not used to affection.

It was foreign to him. He never received praise, compliments, or anything positive. Ever.

So when the acquaintances he’d made on the hogwart’s express clapped him on the back after getting into Gryffindor, he didn’t know how to react other than to flinch.

And when you, introduced as James’s honorary sister, sat down that night, you’d complimented his hair.

You’d said “I like your long hair. It suits you.”

His parents hated that hairstyle. 

He’d kept it purely as an act of rebellion. However, now, now he seemed to like it just a bit more. He hadn’t said thank you. Because he hadn’t known he was supposed to. So he’d just nodded, and you’d grinned.

That grin changed everything. You changed everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What if we make polyjuice potion, and I disguise myself as Narcissa, lead Lucius on for a bit and then prank him?” you asked, playing with the quill in your hands. 

Remus groaned, “We’re still on this?” he asked, throwing his head back in disbelief.

“N/n, Remmy is right, we pranked Lucius only the day before yesterday,” Sirius nodded. You raised an eyebrow at him knowing he was never one to back down from a prank on any Slytherin.

And you were right. He wanted to do it. But if that meant Lucius got a chance to be near you even in a slightly romantic way, he would hurl.

And possibly punch him.

“Oh c’monnn Siri,” you whined, putting on your best pleading face and puppy eyes.

Damn those puppy eyes.

Sirius just shook his head, ignoring the way his heart was racing at your look. He watched as you pouted, leaning back on to the couch, head resting on James’s shoulder. “James, help me out here,” you said, folding your arms as you waited expectantly.

But James was too busy staring at a certain redhead and you, still staring at Sirius, nudged James in the chest.

“Huh? What?”

Sirius burst out laughing at the way your face twisted in pure irritation, the other two boys joining in as you hit James repeatedly with a pillow.

“Ow ow! I’m sorry, I'm sorry!” James laughed as you continued your assault fighting the grin that was creeping up on your face.

“Fuck you Potter!” you laughed, as James tried to correct his hair, you stopping him and messing it up further.

Sirius watched the exchange between you both, a sick feeling crawling up his chest. He knew that you both were no more than honorary siblings and it would always be that way, but deep down he wished you were sitting next to him, doing all that silly stuff with him.

He immediately brushed it off, not one to allow feelings to linger for long, replacing his hardened stare with a smirk instead, watching you and James continue to fight like kids, admiring the bright smile on your face.

He wished that that smile would never go away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Black, if you could be any animal in the world which was not a dog, which by the way I still don’t understand why that’s your favorite animal, which would you choose?” you asked, mindlessly hooking your hand with his as you both walked to class in 4th year.

He ignored the burst of feelings that erupted in him, trying to focus on your question and not on the way your hand felt against his, clinging on as you pranced lightly. “Uhh, I don’t know” he muttered, his brain fogging up as he refrained himself from staring at your linked hands. You hummed, breaking away from him as James and Remus came into view outside the class.

He paused for a few seconds trying to calm down his erratic heart before shaking his head and entering the class. 

You waved him down, patting the seat next you, and the second he sat down, you grabbed his arm, sticking your tongue out at a slytherin girl eyeing you both with pure jealousy written all over her face.

Sirius laughed, “What’s that all about?”

“She likes you,” you pouted, “and asked me, ME to set you both up!” you pointed to yourself in disbelief.

“She looks cute,” Sirius said, winking at the girl. 

You gasped at the way the girl blushed in response. “She’s a slytherin!” you exclaimed, swatting his shoulder. 

Sirius shrugged, “Good point, guess I’ll have to find someone else then.”

“No way! You’re mine” you said seriously, jabbing a finger at his chest. 

His heart erupted, eyes widening. But he played it off quickly, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “You wish sweetheart.” 

Your face turned pink, eyes widening. Luckily the professor walked in, not allowing Sirius to dwell on your reaction.

Merlin, he was done for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were always a naturally happy person. The boys had never seen you cry, even though they’d all had their breakdown moments. You’d been their rock through everything. 

However, when 5th year started, you’d changed. You opted out of pranks, studying almost all the time and the usual spark in your eyes had faded. James seemed to know what had happened but he refused to let the others know, telling them it was up to you to reveal it to them. 

He was worried about you, Sirius could tell, and that made the long-haired boy worry even more. 

He’d tried to get you to talk to him, but you’d refused.

Until one day you’d shown up to Charms, puffy-eyed and asked Sirius to meet you in the Astronomy tower after his classes were done for the day. 

He’d waited anxiously, and as soon as his classes finished, he ran to find you.

You were standing right where you’d said you’d be, gazing up at the sky. You turned when you saw him, a small smile forming on your lips. But the boy noticed the way it seemed to require so much effort from you, which was never the case before.

You turned away again, wordlessly staring at the sky. He wanted to demand an explanation, no longer able to watch you like this.

“Y/N-”

“I’ve never stopped to think,” you started softly, still staring above. Sirius stepped closer to you, waiting patiently for you to continue.

You took a deep breath before turning to face him. 

“I’ve never let myself stop doing things or take a break because then all the thoughts flood the gates and I feel like I’m going to drown. But-” your eyes glazed over as you took a shuddering breath, looking down at your feet.

Sirius grabbed your shaking hands with one of his own, using the other to lift your chin up so that you could look at him. 

“I’m listening,” he whispered.

You bit down on your lip before starting again, “But this summer was bad Siri- they- they said the worst things and-” you couldn’t finish as a sob wracked through your body. 

Sirius pulled you to him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and another lightly around your head as if trying to shield you.

He knew about the situation with your parents. They were almost never at home, and whenever they were, they made it very clear that they hadn’t wanted children in the first place. That’s why you spent most of your time at the Potter’s. 

It’s also why you understood his situation so well.

You pulled away, wiping your tears away as you looked at Sirius. “Euphemia says she won’t let me go back this time even if they ask,” you laughed slightly remembering the possessiveness that had come over the older Potter. 

Sirius smiled, “Good.”

“Thanks Siri,” you nodded, and Sirius beamed at the real smile that made its way to your face. 

“Anytime princess. But don’t get too comfortable, other girls will get jealous.”

You gasped, playfully punching him on his shoulder, “I better be your one and only Black!” you laughed, and he joined in, hiding the way that sentence struck his heart.

Little did you know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sirius found himself knocking on the door of the Potter’s house, he didn’t expect for you to open it.

Shit. He’d forgotten you stayed there now.

But he couldn’t back away. He didn’t have the energy, nor did he think you would let him, at the way you gasped in horror as you looked at him.

He mustered all his strength into a cheeky “Hi” before James appeared behind you, giving the same reaction you had seconds before. You stood there in shock, hands over your mouth and eyes watering at the sight of the boy in front of you.

Sirius gave up on trying to fake it, giving in as you and James pulled him inside the house. 

“James, get your mom,” you ordered. The boy hesitated as you guided Sirius to the sofa, before you turned and glared at him and he ran off. 

Your eyes scanned the boy, a sort of resolve taking you over as you kneeled down in front of him. Sirius was fighting to keep consciousness and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold it for.

“Sirius,” you called gently, placing a hand on his knee, slowly and carefully. “What happened?” you asked. 

Sirius didn’t want to relive what his mother had done to him, trying desperately to push it all away, trying to drown himself in your presence. But he knew you’d need an explanation if you were to help him get rid of the immense pain he was feeling right now.

“Cruciatus,” he whispered, noticing the horror and anger that made its way to your face, but also noticing the way the gentleness of your touch hadn’t changed.

“Can’t go back. Ever.” he muttered, and you were quick to adjust yourself so that he could look you in the eyes. “You won’t ever be going back. Even if Euphemia can’t keep us all here, you and I will find another place. But Black,” you placed a careful hand on his cheek and he leaned into it, “You are never. Ever. Going back there.” The seriousness in your voice gave Sirius enough strength to whisper a “Thank you” before partially fading out of consciousness again, comforted by the fact that you were here, and for once in his life feeling that things would be okay.

He could vaguely make out Euphemia and Fleamont’s reaction to seeing him nearly passed out on the couch, and your hurried explanation of whatever you’d understood from what he’d said. Euphemia walked up to him moments later with a some medicine in hand, something about opening his mouth, gulping, and about helping him sleep and doctors and the next day at sunrise. He couldn’t process it, just doing what he was told. 

James and you then carefully lifted him, carrying him to a room and gently placing him on a bed. 

He could hear you and James both talking in hushed whispers, but he was unable to make out what you were saying, as he fell into a disturbed sleep.

He woke up in the middle of night once, sweating and terrified, haunted by what he’d seen in his nightmare. But before he could properly react and realize where he was, you got up from beside him. 

He couldn’t breathe, and tears were streaming down his face. He could see you move to sit in front of him and your lips moving but he couldn’t make out what you were saying. 

You then gently placed your hands on his face and surprisingly it helped. 

It grounded him, reminded him that he was with you and not with his monstrous parents.

Your voice started to fade back in and he could hear you telling him to breathe, and so he did, thankful that you were there to help him.

Of all the Marauders, he felt the safest with you. 

“I’m okay,” he whispered once his breathing was back in his control. You nodded, sighing softly.

“Thank you,” he muttered, looking up at your tired eyes, “and I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, “I hadn't slept. I was too worried.” You said, moving to sit against the headboard of the bed.

“Sorry for that then,” Sirius said lying back down. 

You stared at him for a few minutes before running a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp softly.

“It’s not your fault Sirius, don’t apologize.”

Sirius didn’t respond, trying to focus on you, and on where he was, rather than the memories that were flooding his brain.

You laid down next to him, and Sirius realized that he was infact in your room, and as he turned to apologize once again, you placed a finger on his lips.

“If you apologize for intruding or something like that again, I will make you sleep on the couch.” you threatened your voice laced with humor.

Sirius smiled at you slightly, and you pulled him close to you, allowing him to tuck his face under your chin as you wrapped your hands and legs around him. He was glad you did so, it made him feel safe, and as if you’d heard his thoughts, you whispered into his ear “You’re safe with me Black. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe”

He wished he really was yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius couldn’t find you anywhere. And what worried him more was that he couldn’t find Frank anywhere either. 

Why did that matter?

Well as you and Sirius had gotten closer and flirtier, you and Frank had gotten closer too. After the fiasco that took place over the summer, you’d spent more time with the boys in their dorm room and naturally that meant you were hanging out with their roommate Frank Longbottom as well. 

And now Sirius was worried that you’d thought his flirting was just him being Sirius and that he had no actual feelings for you.

If you really did think that and if you’d decided to hang out with Frank instead, Sirius had no idea what he would do. 

He’d searched every nook and corner of Hogwarts and now the only other place he could think of was Hogsmeade. 

Oh Merlin he hoped it wasn’t Hogsmeade.

Sirius snuck out of the school during study hours, making his way to Hogsmeade, anxiety filling him.

As he made his way through hogsmeade, his heart dropped when he saw your familiar figure next to Frank’s. 

Your head was thrown back in laughter, and Frank was grinning. “You did great! I’m sure next time will be just as smooth,” you said, patting him on the shoulder.

Next time?

Fear creeped up on Sirius.

He couldn’t lose you to Frank. 

He couldn’t lose you to anyone.

He ran up to you and Frank, seeing both of your faces twist in confusion.

“Sirius?”

“You can’t date him!” Sirius exclaimed, pointing to Frank. 

“What?” you and Frank both said at once, before realization crossed your features and a small smile formed on your lips. 

But Sirius was too anxious and worried to register it, only glaring at Frank.

“Frank, what about you go back, and I’ll figure out what Sirius wants,” Frank nodded at your suggestion and walked off, patting Sirius on the back once.

“Why can’t I date Frank?” you asked, looking at Sirius who was still glaring at the boy who’d just walked away.

He spun around to look at you, surprise all over his face. Anyone could see you struggling to hide your smile and maintain a serious expression on your face, but Sirius was blinded.

“Because- ‘Cause-” Sirius faltered, what he was about to do, dawning on him. He hadn’t wanted to confess to you like this.

“Because?” you asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Because I like you,” he rushed out, scared he would think twice and miss this chance. And the slight tinge of pink in your cheeks gave him confidence. 

“Actually no, I don’t like you, I love you. I’m head over heels for you and I cannot imagine not being with you, at all. I want - no need you to be mine”

You grinned, “Black finally confesses! And you really think I would have gone out with Frank when I have feelings for you? He wanted me to help him get ready for the actual date he’s taking Alice on, since she’s my close friend.” 

Sirius heard nothing except - “You have feelings for me?”

You laughed, linking your hand with his, “I thought it was obvious!”

He turned you around, looking at you, “You really like me?”

You shook your head, laughing lightly, before leaning up to place your lips against his.

His hand moved to your waist, pulling you in, as your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers entangling in his hair.

You both pulled away a few moments later, gasping for air. 

“I’ve been yours since the first day I saw you,” you whispered, eyes locked on his.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too. But I think I love your hair more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglists: @pinchofhoney @targaryenmoony

#x reader #fluff #x you #angst #x you fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black x y/n #sirius orion black #remus lupin #euphemia potter #marauders #sirius black angst #sirius x reader #james potter x sister!reader #lily james #marauders x reader #marauders era #the marauders #marauders x reader platonic #marauders fic #marauders x you #marauders fluff #marauders fanfiction #sirius black

[grandprixwinnerlandonorris]

The Interview | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader

Warnings: smut

Requested: yes

A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3

Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.

Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.

As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.

“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"

"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.

His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.

"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"

Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.

"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.

Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.

Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"

For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.

You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"

“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”

“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."

Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.

“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.

Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.

You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.

“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.

You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.

You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.

The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.

Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.

"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.

"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”

As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.

You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.

The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.

“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”

"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.

You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.

Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.

Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.

“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.

“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.

Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.

“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”

His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.

Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.

Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”

Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.

“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.

“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”

“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.

“I was getting myself comfortable—”

“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”

His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.

In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.

Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.

“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.

You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.

“Then kiss me,” you breathed.

Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.

He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.

His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.

Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.

He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.

You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.

He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.

You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.

You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.

He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.

He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.

Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"

“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.

You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.

Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.

“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.

Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.

“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.

You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.

Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless. 

You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.

You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.

You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.

As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.

With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.

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