#I spent many a night daydreaming about this story

[perlelune]

Lucky | Rafe Cameron

For years, you had a crush on your best friend, one he never returned. You thought he'd be happy to see you move on. You couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: NON-CON, Kook!Reader, Jealousy, Angst, Pining, Toxicity

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your lips curl skyward as you scroll through your phone. As you read every message it’s hard to refrain from kicking your feet and giggling as if you were back in middle school. It’s how he makes you feel. Giddy. Wanted. It’s your first time experiencing such feelings and you’ve been perched on a fluffy cloud all afternoon. 

But remembering you aren’t alone, you try your best to keep a straight face. You’re in a bikini bottom and an oversized shirt by the Camerons’ pool. It’s a bright, sunny day, not a cloud in sight in the sky above Tannyhill.

The unforgiving, North Carolina heat has already melted the ice cubes in your drink. If it weren’t for the generous amounts of sunscreen you've applied earlier, you’d already be sunburnt from hours spent outside.

Rafe lifts his sunglasses from the edge of the pool, curiosity dancing in his blue eyes.

“You’ve been glued to your phone all afternoon, princess.”

You suppress your smile. Feigning nonchalance, you flip your phone down for good measure. 

“I have not.”

“Have too,” he counters, in the exact same way he used to utter those words when you argued back and forth as kids.

He hauls himself out of the pool. You’re graced with the sight of Rafe stepping out of the water, droplets glistening over his broad, toned chest, defined abs and thick, bulging arms. He’s been going especially hard at the gym since summer began. It shows. Your best friend now looks like a breathing, walking Abercrombie ad. You wouldn’t be surprised if the brand gave him a call soon. Not that you’d tell him that. No need to blow up Rafe Cameron’s over-inflated ego even more. 

As you watch him run his fingers through his drenched blonde locks, his golden ring glinting under the sunlight, pride flutters through you. Once upon a time, the sight of Rafe Cameron in nothing but his swim trunks would have had your heart racing and your entire body flush with shameful heat at how unbelievably attractive you found your best friend. 

That was before. When you still clung to the crush you harbored for him for years.

You and Rafe have basically known each other your whole lives.

Since kindergarten specifically.

Back then, you were heavily bullied...and Rafe was the worst of them. He would tug your hair, pull your chair out before you could sit so you’d crash on the floor and call you mean names while other children cheered him on. It only stopped when you had a crying fit in front of him one day. The five year old was stumped. He spent the rest of the year apologizing and bringing a variety of gifts to you. You forgot about the mean things he did and said easily, won over by his determination to make you forgive him. A peculiar friendship blossomed from that. The two of you have been inseparable since then. 

Years flew by.

Then one day Rafe came back to school walking and talking differently. He had filled out during summer break. He was broader, taller, his towering frame even allowing him to reach above your locker. All the girls noticed, including you. You started developing a little crush on him. One he never acknowledged.

He had a girl on his arm at every party, often disappearing with them upstairs. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was up to with those girls. For many years, you daydreamed about what it’d be like to be one of those girls. The girl that caught Rafe Cameron’s eye at a party. The one that would have his full, undivided attention. The one he’d flash a flirtatious grin at and undress with his gaze the entire night.

You wanted to be that girl more than you wanted to breathe.

He never treated you that way though. The two of you hung out all the time. You would play video games, smoke weed, drink the expensive Kentucky Bourbon he stole from his dad’s cabinet and talk about everything and nothing. 

He would always joke that you were like a sister to him. And based on the amount of time you spent at the Camerons house, you might as well be a long lost relative.

Getting over Rafe Cameron had been tantamount to an exorcism. Loving him was so embedded into your flesh, tattooed onto your soul. It was all you knew. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe…

He was everything you longed for. Until he wasn’t. 

It happened one year when you attended the Camerons’ new year’s eve party. You entered the living room and caught him making out with a gorgeous brunette on the balcony. As your heart broke, again, realization slipped through the crack. Pining for someone who doesn’t see you, never saw you, will lead you nowhere. Your suffering was of your own making…and you wanted to suffer no longer. Why fantasize about something that will never come? You’d rather look to the future. 

So you chose to move on.

As fireworks set the night sky above Tannyhill aflame, the last embers of your longing for Rafe Cameron flickered out. 

It’s how you wound up giving dating apps a try. Talking to guys in real life is nerve-wracking but online, you find it much easier. While most conversations you had fizzled out quickly… Garrett has been different. He’s never tried to pretend with you and has been nothing but sweet and inquisitive about your hobbies, hopes and dreams. You’ve talked to him for hours on the phone and he’s made you laugh and smile a countless number of times. As for the icing on the cake…He’s been clear about wanting more than a hookup. He even suggested the two of you should meet up in person soon.

“What got you smiling like that anyway?” Rafe says, tossing the towel around his neck.

“Nothing,” you reply with a shrug.

“If it’s nothing, you can show me.”

He tries to swipe your phone but you’re faster. You rise from your chair and pick it up before he can take it.

His eyes narrow.

“I thought we had no secret for each other,” he says, an accusation laced in his tone. He’s never liked you keeping things from him, no matter how small or insignificant.

“We don’t.”

He gives a slow nod. Then he smiles. And you suppose it should have been your warning, that you should have seen it coming. But you don’t see anything coming. His hand shoots out and he shoves you aside. 

He plucks your phone from you like it’s nothing, using his height to keep it out of reach.

“Rafe! Give me my phone back,” you urge.

He makes no effort to abide by your request, glowering at the screen while scrolling.

“Who the hell is Garrett?”

“J-Just a guy I started talking to on this app...” Your voice dwindles as you cower under Rafe's hard gaze.

Disgust scrunches his handsome face.

“I thought you deleted those dating apps. We talked about this.”

You did talk about it. After a dispiriting streak of bad luck on these apps, he wheedled you to delete all of them. Rafe said all the guys on these apps wanted was to use you for a quick, meaningless fuck. That you were too gullible and would just be taken advantage of. He said that you deserved better and the right guy would come along eventually. You found yourself believing him. A lot of time, you ended up ghosted or the guys failed to show up anyways. It made you question what is so repulsive about you that made guys steer clear.

“I wanted to try again.”

“Well Garrett’s a douchebag name. I don’t like him for you.” He snickers. “Look at that. He’s playing you and his game isn’t even good. You’re really falling for this corny shit, princess?”

He starts reading some of the compliments Garrett paid you aloud, drawing a round of guffaws from Kelce and Topper. 

Your cheeks come ablaze.

“Now you’re just being mean,” you lament, using a lapse of distraction to retrieve your phone.

Gulping the tears threatening to spill, you rush back inside. Kelce’s taunting voice echoes behind you.

“Guess that one got past you, huh, Rafe?” 

“Shut your mouth, bro,” Rafe snaps angrily. 

You lean on the counter and gather your breath. The tears subside. You remind yourself that this is just how Rafe can be. Callous. Inconsiderate. 

It’s not who he really is. 

It’s just a bit hard to recall when he has those moments. Those aggressively insensitive moments. 

You open the fridge and grab a cool drink. Your throat is parched and you could use one.

When you pivot, you nearly spill the can.

Rafe’s towering frame impedes your path.

“You scared me, Rafe,” you say, unleashing a tremulous exhale.

He studies you, concern glimmering in his ocean gaze.

“I wasn’t trying to make you cry, I swear.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “I just meant he sounds like an asshole.”

“You’re an asshole,” you say, bumping into his arm as you sidle past him. 

His brows draw together. He isn’t used to you addressing him that way. With anything other than sweetness dripping from your tongue. 

You can tell he’s reeling at that alone. Getting the tiniest taste of his own medicine…from you of all people.

He approaches you as you swallow a sip of your drink. 

“Ouch. I’m just looking out for you, princess.” His fingers slot beneath your chin. “You know that’s all I ever try to do, right?”

He flashes you a charming smile. That smile you could never resist. It used to be your Achilles’ heel. Despite your changing feelings, Rafe still possesses the uncanny ability to make you forget why you were even mad at him in the first place. Like right now.

Your shoulders sag.

“I know.”

Blue eyes dive into yours. 

“I want to meet him.”

You retreat, your brows knitting. 

“Meet him, why?”

“I want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“I can decide that myself.”

He snorts, his focus darting away before returning to you.

“You’ve never known what’s good for you.” You flinch. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were talking to someone. I tell you everything. Shit, guess I’m an idiot, huh?” His jaw clenches. “...Cause I thought you did too.”

You inch closer to him and wrap your fingers around his forearm. 

“Rafe, I’m sorry, okay.” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “It’s just that…”

“Just that what?”

You pause, mulling over how to best word what you mean to say. 

Your voice comes out a bashful whisper, your eyes clinging to the floor. 

“Every time I’ve told you I liked a guy, it’s never worked out for some reason. It’s probably my fault but…I just didn’t want to jinx it this time.” You nervously swing your gaze back to him. “I figured if I keep it to myself I don’t have to get my hopes up.” You can’t quell the smile that fights its way onto your lips. “Garrett and I are just seeing where it goes right now. So…things are good.”

“Oh, it’s Garrett and I, now?” he sneers.

“Rafe, don’t be like this,” you beseech, squeezing his arm. “You’ll always be my best friend; you know that.” You shift in your spot, your tone pitching with hope as you ask, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

He stares at you a long time, so long that his eyes on you grow unnerving. After a while, he releases a deep exhale. 

Ignoring your question, he steps back from you.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. 

“Rafe?”

You never get a response, his form vanishing down the hallway. A sigh ripples through your lips as you lean against the counter. Why is he being so difficult about this? It’s not like you’re not seeing him with a new girl every other week. You never batted an eyelash. You even encouraged him to seriously date some of them, the ones who seemed to sincerely like him and reminded you of yourself back in the day. 

You’ve always cheered him on no matter what. So it baffles you that he can’t return the favor. Crushes you even.

For the rest of the week, you don’t hear much from Rafe. He pretty much ignores you and even leaves you on read after you send him a string of pleading messages, which is your cue that you wounded his feelings somehow. You surmise Rafe isn’t used to your attention veering towards someone else. Perhaps he’s miffed at the prospect that getting a boyfriend means you won’t hang out as much anymore, that he’ll have to share you. Your friendship’s been a fixture in both of your lives for so many years. The one unwavering, steadfast foundation nothing could topple. Whatever occured in his life or yours, you’ve always had each other.

Change can be scary. 

But you don’t plan on neglecting the bond you have with Rafe just because you’re dating someone. He’ll always be in your life. He’ll always matter to you. It's what you meant to tell him. What you would tell him if only he bothered replying to your texts or answering your calls. 

Rafe has always teased you for bartending at the Island Club. In his eyes, you’re much too Kook for what he calls a ‘Pogue job’. But you enjoy it. There is a certain comfort in having things you earned through your own hard work and not your parents’ money.

…Though you can’t deny you might not have landed this position if not for your dad’s close friendship with the owner of the private club. You’re also painfully aware you don’t get yelled at or scolded for making mistakes as much as other employees. 

And on days like today, after you end your shift, Rafe has never failed to pick you up in his Jeep. 

He’s never missed a day. Which is why you wear a dumbfounded expression as you note the glaring absence of the familiar black car in front of the country club. It takes you a while to accept and realize the cold, hard truth. Rafe isn’t coming to pick you up today. 

It’s not the end of the world, of course. But it still makes your heart ache that he’d ditch like that without so much as an apology or heads-up. You feel kicked in the gut. 

You try to call him but it goes straight to voicemail. Resigned, you resort to calling for back-up. 

Sarah shows up in her truck with a bright smile. 

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” she quips, winking at you.

You climb inside the passenger seat. 

“Thanks for coming, S.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Since the oldest of the Camerons is currently denying your very existence, you figured you might as well call the Kook Princess herself to the rescue. His sister, Sarah Cameron. 

“I brought snacks so I better get a five-star review,” she jests, wiggling her eyebrows. She tosses you a bag of M&M’s that you gleefully tear open. “Doesn’t Rafe usually pick you up after work?”

The sugar melting on your tongue sweetens the bitter taste of abandonment.

“Well, he’s sulking, so…” you mumble around a mouthful of candy.

“Sulking?” Shock colors her tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make my brother mad. You’re like the only person he’s not a complete jerk around.”

“Well, he was one last time we talked.”

Sarah arches a puzzled brow.

You sigh and explain, “I started dating someone…Actually, we’re still at the talking stage, but…I didn’t tell him.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she dismisses cryptically.

Her peculiar tone peeves you.

“I’m not gonna forget, Sarah.”

Her shoulders rise and fall.

“It’s not my place to say. It’s between you and Rafe.” She throws you a cautious glance, marking a brief pause before inquiring, “You’re not still in love with my brother, are you?”

Heat creeps inside your cheeks.

“I was n-never in love with Rafe,” you stammer. Inwards, you’re screaming. Was it that obvious at the time?

Sarah’s plump lips quirk in a lopsided smile.

“Sure.” 

Gratitude fills you. You’d rather leave this can of worms permanently closed. Lid tightly sealed and all. And the can tossed at the bottom of a lake. It’s embarrassing enough that you mooned over Rafe for as long as you did.

At least you find comfort in the fact that you’re over him now.

“You mind if we stop for ice cream on the way?” Sarah asks, adjusting her rearview mirror.

“No. I could go for one myself. This heat is killing me.”

“Cool.”

For the rest of the week, Rafe continues to dole out the silent treatment. You allow his childish antics to chafe you to a point. Then you elect to not let it bother you anymore. He can throw a tantrum if he wishes. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re growing weary of being treated like you have. 

For over fifteen years, you’ve been a great friend to Rafe, listening to him rant whenever he needed an ear, making time for him whenever he requested it. The fact he’s being a dick right now is staggering. 

He frankly has no right.

After everything the two of you have been through, you hoped for more from him. While you’re aware he can be a jackass, you thought it was different when it came to you. That you were different. You suppose you were wrong. 

Friday comes around and with it arrives the excitement of the plans you have for the night. Garrett asked you out on a date at a fancy seafood restaurant. It’ll be your first time meeting him in person. You’ve been looking forward to it the entire week.

As you’re putting the final touches to your makeup in front of the vanity mirror, your phone flashes with a request for a facetime call. 

You swipe towards the green icon to accept the call. 

Rafe’s face fills your screen. 

“Hey, princess. I thought we could talk-”

“I’m kind of busy right now. Rain check tomorrow?” 

“Busy doing what?” He squints, seeming to register your attire. A brand new sundress you purchased with your tips from the Island Club. You paired it with wedge heels. You also switched your hairstyle to something more sophisticated for the night. “W-What the hell are you wearing? Where are you even going dressed like that?”

You heave out a deep sigh.

“Good night, Rafe.”

You tap the screen to end the call.

A rush of power floods your insides. You hung up on him. This is your first time doing that, hanging up on Rafe Cameron himself. 

Still, a sliver of guilt lingers alongside your pride. You quell it swiftly. You can’t be at his beck and call your entire life. Tonight’s about you. For once, you’d like to put your needs before Rafe’s.

Garrett comes to your house some time later. He has flowers in his arms. You soak in their scent for a few minutes. No one’s ever given you flowers before. It makes you feel special.

As he opens the door of his truck for you, he whistles in admiration.

“Wow,” he says, his gaze dragging over your frame.

Your skin warms at the attention, the kind you aren’t used to receiving. 

Fiddling with the flowy sleeve of your sundress, you inquire, “Am I what you expected?”

A besotted smile spreads on his lips.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Thank you.” 

You peer at him. His pictures don’t do him justice.

“You look very handsome. I like your shirt.”

His cheeks redden at your praise. 

You get inside his car. The two of you exchange casual chatter on the way to the restaurant. You’re amazed at how easy talking to him is. You’re a little shy but his clear interest in you helps you slowly climb out of your shell. 

Once you arrive at the restaurant, you’re escorted to your table. The light conversation resumes its flow, the two of you growing even more comfortable with each other. You like how intently he listens to you, even if his intense eye contact makes you wrestle the urge to look away. You nibble your lip as you peruse the menu. Mirth sways in Garett’s brown orbs when your stomach growls. You mumble an apology under your breath and he beams at you. You’ve been so anxious about the date for the whole day, you’ve forgotten to eat. 

A familiar voice erupts from behind you. 

“Well, look who it is. What a coincidence.”

You whirl, a gasp bursting from your throat.

“Rafe? What are you doing here?”

He stands besides you and Garrett’s table, his arm slung around a gorgeous redhead’s shoulders. It occurs to you haven’t seen him with that one before. Though you reckon Rafe rarely does repeat encounters. 

What shocks you more however is his very presence here. Of all places, Rafe and the girl he’s with could have been tonight, it has to be the exact same location of your first date with Garrett. 

What are the odds? 

However, you recall that with the assistance of the friend-finding app both you and Rafe have on your phones in case of emergencies, figuring out your whereabouts would be about the easiest thing.

Would Rafe go that far just because you wouldn’t yield to his whims one time? Would he truly be that selfish?

The shit-eating grin unfurling on his face answers all your questions.

“Well, I heard this was a good spot so I thought…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he waves his hand before the girl’s face, appearing to struggle remembering her name. 

“Jessica,” she finishes for him, disappointment decorating her pretty features.

He beams at her.

“Right. I thought that Jessica and I could check it out.”

He plops down next to you, forcing you to make space for him on the upholstered booth seat. Meanwhile his date sits next to Garrett. 

“You mind, princess?”

Awkwardness fills the air. The heavy tension sits on your throat as Rafe makes himself more comfortable, going as far as spreading his legs.

You scold him with your gaze, all but spelling out ‘Yes, I do mind indeed’.

You clear your throat and shift your stance, resenting how every tiny motion has your thigh grazing against his.

“Actually I…We’re kind of on a date, Rafe.”

He places his arm on the wooden edge above your head, his smile expanding.

“So are we. So why not double date?”

“I don’t mind,” Garrett offers as he takes in your concerned expression. “You two…know each other, right?”

You open your mouth to speak but before words can pour from it, Rafe wraps his arm around you.

“Best friends. She and I go way back. Isn’t that right, princess?”

His intense blue eyes settle on you. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger can’t begin to describe how upset you are with Rafe right now for crashing your date, but you also don’t want to cause a scene, make things even worse than they already are. 

So you force a smile on your lips and nod.

“Y-Yeah, we do.”

Throughout the night, Rafe’s presence causes the date’s slow descent into a nightmare. Every time Garrett tries to strike up a conversation with you, Rafe interjects, his comments toeing the line between innocently inconsiderate and outright rude. He never lets the two of you have a moment, interrupting whenever Garrett looks at you for more than half a second. You grow weary of his antics. So does Rafe’s date. You can see the pretty redhead in front of him growing frustrated as he treats her as if she were a potted plant.

She ends up leaving the table to go to the bathroom but never returns. It doesn’t shock you. If someone inflicted upon you what Rafe has to the poor girl the entire night, you might take your leave as well.

By the time dessert comes, you’re on the cusp of tears. This is not how you envisioned your night going. 

The awfulness doesn’t stop there.

When it’s time to part ways, Garrett finds his truck in an unfortunate state. 

He curses under his breath as he hunkers down in front of his car. 

“Some punk sliced my tires.”

In the back, Rafe shakes his head.

“Damn, tough luck. Guess I’ll have to drive you home, princess.”

You scowl at Rafe before placing a hand on Garrett’s arm. He’s already on his phone to contact someone to help move his truck.

“I could wait with you,” you say softly. 

“It’s fine,” he replies. “Just go home. We’ll text, okay?”

Your tone turns contrite. “Okay. I’m so sorry… about everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I still had a good time.”

“Me too.”

Despite his assurance, you aren’t too hopeful he’ll want to see you again. You know this wasn’t what he had in mind for the night. And neither did you. 

You reluctantly trail behind Rafe, looking daggers at him when he opens the door of his black Volvo for you. 

Not an ounce of guilt lurks on his handsome face, which tosses more fuel on the flames of your ire. 

You don’t utter a word, almost too angry to speak. The last shred of your patience fizzled out in the restaurant, as your so-called best friend basked in your misery, getting a kick out of making a mockery of your night.

If you talk, it won’t be to have a calm, level-headed conversation with Rafe. It’ll be to spew venom at him.

As he parks into the driveway of your house, he lets go of the steering wheel and says, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

You draw a long, slow breath.

“You think?” you snap icily. You jump out of the truck and slam the door closed.

Rafe follows you to your doorstep. You fumble with the lock. Your fingers quiver so much, you can’t even open the door. After a few unsuccessful tries jamming the keys inside the lock, Rafe takes them from you. He opens the door and you stomp inside. 

You toss your clutch on a nearby table and whirl. 

“What the hell, Rafe?” you shout. “You embarrassed me!”

His shoulders lift and slump.

“Well, you shouldn’t have been there to begin with.”

Disbelief rounds your gaze. “What?”

“You heard me. You shouldn’t have been on a date with him.”

Folding your arms, you scoff, “Right. Why is that?”

Rafe inches closer to you, his eyes locking with yours.

“Because you should have been on a date with me instead.”

A weary exhale drops from your chest. Rafe’s declared many things while hammered but this one takes the cake.

“I think you’re drunk,” you dismiss. “You need to go home, Rafe.”

Rafe’s jaw ticks.

“My mind is perfectly clear, okay? If you’ll just listen to me-”

“Go home, Rafe.”

You nearly turn your back on him but Rafe’s sturdy hand fastens around your arm, yanking you back.

He takes a long pause, drinking you in.

Rafe takes a deep breath before confessing, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His throat bobs as he adds, “And I know you love me too.”

Your mouth tumbles open, shock snatching the very air from your lungs. You stare at Rafe. Perhaps you heard him wrong. In your wrath, his words may have landed in your ears a little warped.

But as you get lost in his sea gaze, the truth sinks into you. He is serious. Very serious.

A war of conflicting emotions breaks out inside you. For years, you longed to hear those words. But not like this. And the insinuation that he knew how you felt…That he let you suffer in silence while gallivanting around with those girls.

A fast surge of tears blurs your gaze.

“You knew?”

He cradles your face.

“I’ve always known.”

A shudder wracks through your frame.

“So w-why did you never say anything?”

“I figured you’d wait for me, that I could just have some fun. That it wasn’t a big deal.”

Ice fills your blood. Your tone becomes clipped, detached.

“I want you to leave.”

His hold on you doesn’t loosen, his cheek pulsing in frustration.

“Really? I tell you I love you after all this time and this is your response?”

“I haven’t had those feelings for you in years, Rafe. And right now…I don’t even like you as a person.” Rafe bristles at your blunt words, looking like you slapped him. Your mouth wobbles as you say, “You’re not who I thought you were. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”

Something shifts in his blue eyes. The air around you drops a few degrees as he pushes you further inside the room. Desperation lurks in his deep timbre.

“Come on, we can talk about this, princess.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dread escalates within you when he doesn’t move. You’re hit with the daunting realization that you’re alone with Rafe, your parents away on a trip right now. Usually being alone with him wouldn’t have fazed you, may have ensconced you in a sense of security and comfort even. Not tonight. Tonight, you don’t recognize the Rafe standing in front of you. Your voice trickles out small and shaky. “R-Rafe, get out, I’m serious.”

His expression hardens. He shoves you into a nearby wall. You gasp as pain prickles along your back.

“Just admit that you love me too,” he roars. 

“I don’t,” you whimper as water brims under your lashes.

This propels him to the brink. There’s no time to process anything, Rafe hoisting you with ease. As he takes long, determined strides to your bedroom, your fear grows. He hurls your body into the bed. He fiddles with the buttons of his khaki pants until they come loose. A scream builds inside your throat, refusing to break past your lips as you linger in bewilderment. Rafe isn’t doing what you think he’s doing…what he’s preparing to do. There's no way. He wouldn’t.

Stupor girdles your motions. For a while, you gape at Rafe. As he approaches the bed, adrenaline rushes through you. You remember how to move.

But it’s for naught. Rafe is quicker than you, catching you when you rise and slamming you back on the sheets. He crawls over you. His blue gaze glimmers strangely in the darkness. Streaks of moonlight pour between your half-draw curtains, casting ominous shadows over his broad frame.

He cages you beneath him, shushing you as you croak out pleas for him to stop.

“I know you’re lying,” he rasps, scattering sloppy kisses alongside your neck.

He yanks down your dress and your breath hitches. 

“I’m not. I don’t-” Words wither on your tongue as he flicks his thumb over your nipple, his other hand patting underneath your dress. “I-I don’t love you anymore, Rafe.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His fist curls around the vee part of your thin lace panties, tugging roughly enough to tear the delicate material. You squeal as the lace dents your flesh when it rips.

Your heart bounces. You push against Rafe’s chest with newfound urgency.

“Rafe, stop.”

He snatches both of your wrists and traps them above your head. Helplessness chokes your airways as he pokes lightly at your entrance. He slides one finger between your walls and you keen, breath faltering at the abrupt intrusion. His lewd gaze remains trained on you as you squirm beneath him.

“Why do you keep lying, huh?” he accuses, forcing a moan from your throat when he curls his digit inside you. When your eyes squeeze shut in denial, he lets go of your wrist to frame your jaw.

A sob spills from your throat, your eyes flying open.

“Nah…I want you to look at me, princess,” he orders, jerking your head up so your gazes lock. You choke on your breath when he shoves a second finger inside you. He slowly drags his fingers in and out of you. Heat gathers in your core. You writhe against the sheets, resisting the urge to buck your hips to seek more of the friction. He grazes a uniquely sensitive spot and your lids quake, a soft whimper flying from your mouth. You clench around Rafe’s fingers and he unleashes a sigh of pleasure as you grip him. You feel him harden against you. Your stomach knots at the pressure. His eyes are glued to you, soaking every minute shift of expression while he pumps his fingers inside you. 

“I know you never stopped loving me,” he whispers, the alcohol on his breath seeping through your senses. “Think I don’t see the way you look at me?”

As you near your undoing, he removes his fingers. You sag against the sheets. The sudden emptiness leaves you with a mix of emotions you’re too ashamed to admit.

He presses his thick tip against your dripping entrance, gathering your arousal when he runs it along your folds. He pushes in slowly, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of your velvety warmth welcoming him. You tense at the intrusion. Your fingers curl into the sheets. Rafe’s broad frame covers yours, his forehead resting against yours as he whispers, “Say you love me.”

When you don’t reply, he slams his cock inside you in one swift stroke. Your back curves, a quiet scream ripping from your throat. Your chest lifts and falls rapidly as Rafe’s thick girth fills you up completely. 

He begins moving inside you, his pace relentless and unforgiving. While his length is splitting you apart, it’s hard to deny the warm tingles pulsing through your core, joining the pain in devious harmony. 

You go limp on the bed, his thick cock stretching you more than ever before. Every time he grazes your sweet spots, you spiral further down, your thoughts melting in the flames consuming your body.

“Say it,” he grunts, his warm breath fanning over your face. 

His bulging muscles coil beneath his clothes from the force he exerts to shove all of himself inside you. Heavy breaths drop from Rafe’s chest as your walls squeeze around him. Drenched locks of his dirty blond hair cling to his forehead, beads of sweat collecting between his furrowed brows and dripping to your parted lips. 

When you remain silent, Rafe’s large hand wraps around your throat, his tone more firm and menacing than before as he snarls, “Say that you love me, princess.”

His fingers crush your windpipe until you give in.

You can barely eke the words out, every harsh snap of Rafe’s hips into yours filling your vision with stars.

“I l-love you, Rafe.” 

The words ache as they part from your throat. A bitter truth you buried long ago, beneath thick layers of heartbreak and denial. One you hoped would never crawl its way back to the surface. One that hurts even more now, shatters you as it leaves your lips. Because you can’t tell if Rafe forced it out of you or if it was there all along. Perhaps it never left you. Perhaps, even after all your attempts to purge Rafe Cameron from your flesh and soul, even after he’s done the unthinkable to you…Part of you may still love Rafe, may always love Rafe.

As you grow overwhelmed with warring emotions, his cock still viciously ramming into you, you don’t know who you hate more. Him. Or yourself.

Salty streams spill down your cheeks. 

Rafe kisses them away, gently cupping your cheek while thrusting roughly into your cunt. His other hand explores your curves, clutching your flesh possessively. You can already feel bruises forming beneath his rough, insatiable touch. His eyes find yours, a possessive glint swaying in his intense blue gaze.

“Of course you do.” His lips stretch in a smug smile. “You’ve always been mine, princess, you just didn’t know it yet.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x kook!reader #kook!reader #dark rafe cameron

[roxannarambles]

Hey! I just want to make it VERY clear that I don’t expect much from this and I completely respect if you just simply don’t want to talk about this anymore and want to be done with the fandom/show (and you delete/ignore this ask as a result):

But, is there any chance you would be willing to tell us about the plans you had for your Lunter fanfic, Second Chances? No pressure at all, I just wanted to express how much I admired your writing and characterization, and I really loved that fanfic and I guess I’m just curious about how you were planning to end it!

Again, if you prefer to not answer this, I completely understand, seriously. 💕

Hiya! Oh, gosh, yeah, I had a lot of plans for that story. If I had continued with it, it probably would have ended up as long as Ships That Pass in the Night. My ideas tend to get kinda . . . long. 😩 Longer then I have the time for, sometimes. Alas.

I have indeed moved on from the fandom-- canon was just making me feel so frustrated-- but I don't mind sharing my Outline for the rest of Second Chances. Fair warning, though, it's long! I don't have the word 'rambles' in my username for no reason, haha. (And thanks so much for your kind words, by the way.)

-Oracle Homework. Hunter helps Luz with her Oracle homework. Talking to her is so much better then texting. Luz has glyphs that lets her activate the magic orb when she touches it. But while she has the magic she still needs the technique, to see the future. Hunter never has done Oracle magic of course. But he was taught the principles even thought he could not use it himself. He guides Luz through the process. Tells her to close her eyes and listen to his voice. With his coaching she can open her eyes and see the fragment of her future in the orb. She is thrilled. He's honestly surprised it worked. He asks what she sees. Luz says, "I see . . . us!" Hunter is floored by this statement. His heart flip-flops. "What?" She goes into more detail. She sees them camping together. Like they talked about before. Roasting marshmallows, eating s'mores. Hunter sort of squeaks, 'Really?' (The spell was meant to show your heart's desire, for the future, the trajectory of your current path) Hunter can't get this out of his head the next day. He tries desperately to forget about it.

-Glyph Magic. He's falling for her so hard. He grows slowly more rebellious. He continues to watch her glyph videos and eventually tries making glyphs for himself, and decides to show Luz, he is so excited. He does it late at night and Luz is so excited for him. They flirt.

-Ruler's Reach. He knows what he's doing is risky. But he doesn't care. Talking to her is giddy and intoxicating. They talk about Luz's writing for Ruler's Reach. It's casual and comfortable, so easy to talk to her now. They tease each other in an affectionate way.

-Staff Practice. She calls him during the day for help with staff tricks. Hunter is so damn in love he'd drop anything for her now. So he skips out on his duties to help her. He can't do much over scrolls though. He wants to go in person, but he isn't quite bold enough to do it. He helps as best he can, feels deeply frustrated, Luz almost gets hurt but saves herself with glyphs/only gets a little scratched. She thanks him for the help but he feels bad he didn't just go in person to help her. (He's terrified, go and meet the enemy? What if someone saw him?) Oh my god, he wanted to see her so badly. Luz: 'No I get it, I do! Don't worry.'

(but he WANTS to be able to be there. he WANTS to see her in person. and he's starting to RESENT the coven. he's so jealous of her being at hexside and doing all these fun things, he wants to share that with her, oh god, but he can't. he can't.)

-Luz Fills In. And then he learns the flyer derby team is down a player (Willow texts and asks if he can come, he says he can't and feels bad), and Luz ends up doing it, and Hunter is like but u need more training!! and she's like it's ok willow is gon help me and Hunter is so jealous and it hurts

He later sees they win!!! He is so proud. But wishes he could be there. It makes his throat tight, it burns. He does not sleep well at all and has a crap day next day, at the end of the day he is just an absolute mess and decides to brew a sleep potion. But he screws it up a little and gets kinda loopy and drunk. He texts Luz.

-Drunk Texts. He texts about his crap day and how much he wanted to talk to her. how he wanted to play the flyer derby game with her. he shit-talks the coven a little. luz is giggly at it, because he normally isn't one to talk such smack. it devolves into him rambling about how she makes him feel, how much he admires her, luz is really flustered and starts to wonder what's going on, he asks if he can call her because he wants to hear her adorable laugh, she calls and asks if he's okay, he is SO adorably excited to see her, she's like "are you okay man" and he's like, "damn girl I am now that you're here," Luz is like 'asdfrfhhgkk!!'

'so just like, curious, do you have any like, boyfriend or girlfriend'

'Oh my god Hunter seriously, are you okay'

'you're avoiding the Q :('

'um, no,'

"oh, cool! I mean. uh. it. would be cool. for. anybody whod want to. be that."

eventually Luz works out he's had a sleep potion but he thinks he kinda messed the recipe up a tad. luz gets worried and questions him further about it, but he explains it prob wont hurt him and will wear off probably around [insert time] (he knows potions pretty well) and luz realizes it's prob okay. she probably doesnt have to go over there.

hunter: 'you want to come here??'

she's like ah ha ha ummm that might not be a good idea, just promise me you'll drink some water and go to bed, okay? hunter is pretty suggestible in this state so she convinces him easily.

-The Morning After, he has a bad headache and is mortified at what he did last night, and is so scared he's wrecked his friendship with Luz. He cannot risk that, he values her way too much. Luz texts and checks in on him, and he is like........what do I say.

'luz I am so sorry'

(he does NOT remember all the stuff he even said, which is normal when you are drugged and sleepy, tbh, I don't recall all the stuff I think and say either when I've had my sleep meds. but he does recall being flirty and excessively honest and a few things he said, like how adorable her laugh is)

Luz assures him it's totally fine. And it was honestly freaking adorable. He's still embarassed, but she promises it's fine he just needs to be more careful with his potions.

Hunter tries to busy himself with work and forget about Luz. Yes, she is so tempting, she is so wonderful, but he had to be realistic. He could never be with her even if she DID want to be with him.

-Tibbles' Shop. And yet when he's out on patrol, busting Tibbles' shop of human trash, he can't help but think of her. And how much she misses home. He awkwardly asks Tibbles what a human would like. Eventually he gets a broken ukelele. He knows he can't bring it to her, but maybe he can play it for her? She could hear a human instrument. Maybe she'd like that. And m-maybe it would make up for the fact he couldn't be there for the team in person.

-Music Practice. He practices when he thinks nobody will hear, but Raine does. He is embarassed and tries to act dumb, but Raine is like cmon man what do you take me for. Sighing, Hunter shows them the instrument and explains it's human in origin and he was trying to figure out how to play it. Raine tells him it is out of tune (whatever it is) and they take it and tune it up. It's similar to a number of Demon Realm instruments, close enough for Raine to figure it out. The music it produces is lovely. Hunter wishes he could sound like that. Raine is happy to teach him, Hunter is hesitant about asking others for favors. Raine says it's fine, and also wonders why Hunter's sudden interest in music.

He finds a way to surf the human internet. He finds a song online to practice. He's never going to show it to her. Never. But he enjoys practicing it. Just as he enjoys practicing for Flyer Derby. His glyphs.

(haven't sketched out the scene where he actually plays for her, but he does at some point)

-Darius narrowly saves Hunter's hide. At some point, Kikimora finds a post on social media that shows Hunter with the rest of the Emerald Entrails (Willow had posted it), sporting a cardinal palisman, to boot. Kikimora brings this up to Darius, gleeful at the notion of busting Hunter. Darius has to think of a lie quickly on the spot to protect him. He mocks Kikimora for thinking that student was the actual Golden Guard. Obviously it was just some highschool student using a glamorstone to imitate him. Didn't she know it was popular among kids to use glamorstones to imitate celebrities? Very cringey, these kids, but yeah. AS IF the Golden Guard would waste his time playing sports games at Hexside?! Kikimora, you're ridiculous. Meanwhile, Hunter overhears this whole conversation, grateful for the save.

-And then, The Emerald Entrails lose another team member. Skara leaves the team to play Grudgby. They're in trouble. Without a full team, the EE will be disqualified for continuing to play matches. They need a new member. Hunter learns of this and wants to help but is incredibly torn about things. How can he possibly help? Eventually, he thinks back to Darius' lie to Kikimora and it gives him an idea. He goes to Darius to beg for help on his cover story. His cover story: he is a Hexside student named Caleb who does most his work as distance learning and he uses a glamorstone to look like the Golden Guard because he admires him. Except this isn't just a cover story. With Darius' help, acting as his legal guardian (forged paperwork), Hunter literally, legally gets accepted by the school this way-- so that he can join the game and play.

-Flyer Derby Game. We swap to Luz POV. We are not aware yet of all the stuff Hunter did with Darius to pull this off. We just see Hunter dramatically show up right in the brink of time to join the game and thus save the team. They play together, Luz & Hunter have incredible teamwork, pull off some really snazzy moves, flirt during the breaks, during the game too, are huge dorks, they win it for the team, it's a close race, they're victorious and so elated at the end, Luz kisses his cheek as the drink is dumped on them. The moment Luz looks away, Hunter bails, though; on the pretense he has to get back to the Coven before anyone notices, but the truth is he bails because he's overwhelmed and so tempted to pull Luz into his arms and never let her go.

-Aftermath. The social media reaction about that game is strong. Everyone adores the new student Caleb and how he and Luz won the game. There also are a lot of comments on how they looked together aaaaaand some implications are made about the nature of their relationship. (Luz tries to hide these comments from Hunter.) There are also some comments saying mean stuff because that's the nature of the internet, but in general it's a big hit.

However, Hunter is in crisis. He's certain he must not see Luz again in person, no matter how much he yearns, now matter how sweet it tastes to just be a Hexside student with no worries, how tempting it is to help her with Glyph videos, no matter how many comments on Penstagram are asking about them, etc . . .

-Climax of story. This is the moment Hunter faces a choice. I have multiple possible directions for the completion of the story. I usually leave multiple possible threads open for a story and don't decide on them until I have reached that point in the story. So this part isn't sketched out. But it's either Hunter chooses to stop interacting with Luz and remains loyal to Belos, or Luz manages to somehow convince him to rebel.

I do admit my favorite idea was that one night, Luz appears at his window, and the air in his lungs tastes like ice water; her eyes glow like the moon, and his skin prickles with gooseflesh from head to toe; the curtains flutter in the breeze, and in that moment, Hunter's resolve to stay away from her snaps like dry kindling.

#asks #anon #goldenlight #lunter #outlines #oh what could have been! #I spent many a night daydreaming about this story

[luvtak]

sandcastles, lfx x reader

✧ genre/ tw f2l <3!! sugary sweet fluff, angsty confessions, a couple pet names, a very sweet kiss, and felix and mc being unbearably down bad for each other, unedited <3

✧ w/c 2586

✧ a/n okay so i am writing this at 2 am after basically throwing this up, I've had this idea in my head for a couple days and finally had time to execute it, I am a sucker for f2l!felix and I hope you enjoy this very sweet confession, as well as the fun summery vibes I hoped to embrace the story in, happy reading! mwah <3!!

The first time you saw him you thought he was a daydream, sun bright and shiny–a made up boy for a lazy sunday afternoon. He came with golden hour, everything orange and yellow and the floral july smell was creeping around you. At twelve, you’d never seen a boy so sure of himself or so kind. Usually, the boys at school were listlessly mean or energetically cruel–ever patient in their mission to bother you. But here was Felix, funny and sweet and asking to be your friend. 

The summer passed in oceanfront days and popsicle covered nights, pop songs on the radio as you talked from the backseat. Goofy and glamorous months spent together as you awaited Fall. You remember those days like the lines of your palm, linen sheets wrapped around your bodies as you told scary stories and held each other to ward off nightmares. Some days, going to bed with the sun still high in the sky–naps on the beach with his head on your tummy. 

Felix’s sister’s hands in yours while you played ring around the rosie, giggles loud when you let go. The little girl’s voices as they yelled they all fall down! And Felix's own little voice asking if you were all okay, always worried about skinned knees and chipped nail polish. Childhood flashed with bandaid kisses and sandy shoes, freckled skin and ocean covered giggles. 

You’d never forget when you realized he was beautiful–stepping out of the ocean like Aphrodite herself, a boy born from sunshine and seafoam. His wide eyes were crinkled with sun, surely adding more stars to his golden skin, and he was smiling. Smiling at you of all things, bright and incandescent Felix grinning at you like the happiest man on earth. 

You think of that boy now as he sits next to you, watching the movie with an almost exaggerated delight. Taking in the action and the humor like someone just shown technicolor after a life of black and white. He’s grown up so much, grown up and away from you as you’ve gotten older. Those summer nights are just an origin story for who he is now, a big bright star like you always knew him to be. 

As his very first fan, you always saw in him this man he could become, but sometimes under the cover of midnight you selfishly wished you could have kept him to yourself. He was always just yours; until he wasn’t… Always your north star, leading you on your journey since you were just a little thing, and now he’s that to thousands of people–none of them knowing he was yours first. 

If you told him this he’d giggle up a storm and tell you he was still yours, but he wasn’t, not really… not in the way you wanted him to be. How could you tell him you loved him when in an instant he became bigger than you or any childhood wish. 

“Silly, why aren’t you watching the movie? It’s the best part!” eyes gleaming and mouth pouty, Felix looks so pretty in the tv light, “I know we’ve seen this one like a billion times, but that doesn’t mean you can’t pay attention.” He huffs, undeniably pretending to be annoyed with you. He can’t really, couldn’t even if he wanted to. You’re just so dear to him, one half of his heart, and he could never attribute any negative feeling to you, even if you deserved it. 

When he came home and saw you, more grown up and more beautiful than his phone screen allowed, he couldn’t believe he ever left you. He was so excited to watch your movie together, and while Ponyo had lost the astonishment of childhood, it still held its charm. The film was the background of so many childhood memories–putting it on after midnight nightmares or days spent sick in bed; children versions of you wrapped up and watching every sleepover. 

It was silly, he had you there right next to him, but he still missed you until the movie was on, and here you were not watching it. 

“Sorry, Lix, I just can’t believe you’re actually here.” your voice trembles a little, hiding the true emotions and fear that he’ll find you out. He would never stop being your friend just because you had a little crush on him, could never abandon you for something so little as a flutter in your tummy. But this wasn’t just a crush or a flutter, this was a stampede. You’d been in love with him for so long now, kept it hidden away in teenage diaries and grown up journals. A secret between you and the moon. You could never be sure how he’d take it, that for years now you’d been cowardly and afraid of him, a boy so brave he conquered his dreams. 

“Well, believe it baby! And watch the movie… or else…” He said it in a funny voice, and even though you knew he meant well, the pet name pushed an ugly feeling in your gut. 

Quietly and painfully you looked back to the screen, avoiding the way you can feel his body breathe next to you. For so long you missed this, the knowledge that your best friend was next to you, but now you think he should go home. Back to Seoul where he doesn’t hurt you by being him, sunshiney and starlit him. “Hey, seriously, are you okay? Where’d you go?” Felix is genuinely worried now, a sinister feeling arising in his chest that you’re not okay, and that it’s because of him. 

Sure, he’s been gone a lot the last couple of years, but he never forgot the way your eyes got misty before you cried. He grew up alongside you, nursed bloody knuckles and broken hearts and he could feel when you were sad–knew like the back of his hand when you were devastated and hiding it, but was this just because you missed him? 

“I’m fine, star boy, I just always get a little sad when I watch Ponyo. You remember don’t you? The way I would cry and cry when Sasuke promises to love and take care of her?” you mutter, softly without any conviction, and while the boy knows this to be true, he can’t help but notice your fidgety hands and the way you won’t look at him. 

You’re so worried, crushed beyond belief that one night home and he’ll figure you out. You could never keep a secret from him, running to tell him as soon as someone told you a whisper of hidden truth. Since you were twelve you told him all your innerworkings and private feelings, all but this one. It was easy when he was gone, easy to train your voice to sound happy over the phone, but you couldn’t hide anything with his eyes so close to you. 

Shoulder to shoulder you sat on the sofa you grew up on, right in this position with this beautiful boy. Watching this movie at 12 and 15, holding hands to ward against scary movie monsters. You couldn’t keep this secret here. 

“You’re a shitty liar, Y/n, is it some boy? Do I have to defend your honor?” it was so silly to him, you were so silly. How could he think any other boy mattered to you but him? Him with his golden hair and bright eyes, star studded cheeks smiling at you in the sunshine. 

You would never forgive yourself for that day on the beach. The day he became more than Felix, your best friend. You used to gag when your parents teased you about him, winced when one of your girls would say you looked cute together, and then all it took was the sun hitting him just right. 

You would never forgive yourself for this night either, you had to tell him. Had to make sure he knew it didn’t matter if he couldn’t feel the same. Who were you other than his friend? He was an angel and you were just someone he knew before he ascended. 

“Yeah, I guess. Some boy who I just can’t get out of my head.” 

“Oh, my silly sweetheart, is he devastatingly handsome.” he was giggling, the way he always did when you brought up boys to him, like it was ridiculous you would think a boy was cute. 

“I think so, he’s handsome and sweet, and I’ve never known anyone like him.” 

“This sounds intense, Y/nie, you must really like him…” 

“Yeah, you could say that.” 

You can’t help but notice his body language shifting, turning inward and hesitant. His voice got quieter too, shifting back into his normal voice. You wonder if you transferred some of your fear to him, then dismiss the thought–your Felix has always been brave. 

The movie still plays, little kid voices filling the otherwise silent room. The picture can be seen in his eyes, lighting the dark with bright oranges and blues. They're looking at you, and some tiny part of you can tell he seems sad. That piece of you that always knows how he’s feeling; attuned even when he’s in South Korea and you feel with all parts of you that you need to send a message to cheer him up. 

You feel that now, and reach out to take his hand, calloused and warm in yours. 

You stay like that for a while, finishing the film hand in hand like you did when you were both still small. Until finally, he asks so quietly you can barely hear him, 

“Do you like him more than me?” 

Shocked, you can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, which stuns Felix enough to pull his hand from yours–rubbing with his other hand where yours touched. He’s hurting, and you’re laughing at him, and this is enough to pull all of his bravery into you. Deep breathe in and out until you are sure every ounce of courage he’s ever had is running through your veins. You need to tell him, and even if he never speaks to you again, it's better than if he never knew he spins your whole world around. 

“Oh my god, Felix, it is you.” it comes out in a breath, faster than you’ve ever said anything and more relieving than any sentence you’ve rattled out before. The tears you’ve been fighting off all night come tumbling down, cascading over your cheeks with reckless abandon into your shaky hands. He’s silent for so long, barely even moving from his place next to you. The only indication he’s still hear the shaky breaths he’s releasing, and still you don’t look at him.

You’re waiting for him to leave, to walk out the door and go home, waiting for him to walk out of your life and back into his place in the sky, when finally you feel his hand on your wrist. His hold is so delicate, nervous as he moves your hands from your face and can finally see your eyes. Eyes sad and exhausted and so familiar to him, even through the tears their lovely–a reminder of home and unconditional love, and growing up. He can’t believe you would like him, Him with all his idiosyncrasies and softheartedness, you were so beautiful and so strong and you liked him. Thought he was handsome and sweet, you’d never known anyone like him… 

How long could this have been going on, how could he have been living never knowing you felt this way? Never knowing he felt it too, not just butterflies in his belly, but falcons, wings so strong and so big they started hurricanes. 

He looked at you like he always did, like you were the most important thing in the room. Eyes on yours and a smile of disbelief rising on his face. Slowly, without any reservations he brought his forehead to yours, looking down at you in all your snotty glory and lifting a hand to swipe at the falling tears. His voice is a whisper, deep and familiar, the same voice he used to tell stories and secrets, 

“It’s me? You promise?” 

“It’s always been you, Felix, how could it be anyone else?” 

He shudders, the hand sitting atop your cheek bone falling to your neck before he moves closer, settling his lips next to yours. Eyes lifting in a silent question, is this okay? With a nod and a close of your eyes he’s leaning in, moving to kiss you with all the desperation the moment requires. His tongue wiping up all the fallen tears as his lips moved with yours–when you were children he always kissed your wounds better, sweet pecks over bandaids and foreheads, and here he was now fixing up a broken heart–putting it back together. 

When he comes back up for air his eyes settle over your frame, flushed and hair messy from his hands, and he smiles. He’s loved you since he was a boy, since you asked to build that sand castle, 12 years old and braver than anyone he’s ever known. He’s loved you through teenage tantrums and silly crushes, it’s always been you. 

“We’ve been so silly, sweetheart.” he finally gets out, laughing at the impossibility of it all. The one secret you kept from each other being the same. Like always, exactly on the same page–telling the same story over and over again until you met in the middle. “When did you know? When did you know you loved me?” 

He’s so happy, you can feel it in the way he’s holding you, in the way his hands haven’t left your skin since they arrived. You can’t believe it, this beautiful boy is holding you. 

“That day you told me you were gonna audition… you came from the sea smiling and covered in sunshine, and I saw you for the first time–larger than life, my dream.” 

His eyes closed, and then he laughed. A great big wonderful laugh that took him away from you, falling onto his back with happy tears streaming. It was such a lovely sound you couldn’t help but join in, giggling with him even if you didn’t know why. 

When he finally speaks again his voice is still twinged with laughter, breathless and happy when he says, “You were so late” pausing to laugh, “I loved you since we were 12, you were covered in sand and I was in love.” 

You move to him quickly, settling your body on top of his as gently as you could manage, and you take in his happy face. This is what he looks like in love, not any different than he’s ever looked, but the shock of it–the fact that it’s you who he loves and is loved in return makes you want to cry again. 

This is where home is, here in his arms with your movie playing, smiling at each other in awe. There's so many moments you can share with him now, moments you shared with the moon and shooting stars, things you never thought you could tell him. Days and weeks holding a secret that he carried too. How silly you’ve both been, to deny what everyone has told you since you were children–two humans made for each other, sculpted out of the same sand. Lives entwined since that day on the beach when you asked him to build a sandcastle, how funny looking back, that you never did.

© LUVTAK 2024

#felix x reader #felix fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #lee felix #skz felix #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #felix imagines #felix x you

[oliviajdjarin]

Din Djarin: Bright and Shiny

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.”

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.

“What do you like about it?”

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut (me writing a dom man?), with softness at the end. The Crest is aliveee. Grogu isn’t here yet.

A/N: Happy Dincember everyone, aka my absolute favorite tumblr tradition. To all the authors updating prompts every day…are you Gods?

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

There was no bigger hypocrite in the galaxy than the infamous Mandalorian.

Blood-crusted beskar coated the majority of his body every time he placed his feet on solid ground—every time— in addition to the metaphorical armor that was his demeanor. Solid, unbreakable, stern, terrifying.

It was not until you had spent a few months as his “partner” at the Guild, thus living together on his quickly crumbling Razor Crest, that you were met with his true doctrine of hypocrisy.

It was as if every time he elected to remove a piece of his armor for you, he knocked down one of his walls. First was the night he removed the small shoulder and shin pieces, the same night he elected to crack his first joke. Next was the dark-browned chest, sharing with you that he was a foundling in his Covert. Then the belt, covered in more weapons and weight than you had ever seen, and he told the story of his first kill. Then the wrists, along with the story of his toughest kill. The one that haunted him as he attempted to fall asleep at night. Then his gloves, with the story of the first woman he had ever fell in love with.

“You remind me of her,” he had said to you, “except you have actually stayed.” He had said the last part quickly before immediately exiting the pit to hide in his “room” for a few hours.

You remained in your copilot seat, staring off into the stars of hyperspace, unable to think at all.

Slowly—very slowly— the Mandalorian had revealed more and more of his true self to you. The one who would sneakily hum around the Crest, make sure to turn your heated blanket on early on cold nights, and always—always—avoid spiced food like the plague.

“It upsets my stomach,” he had defended, and you scoffed in return.

After such long travel-times on jobs, you would get so used to the softness of his true personality that when he would have to put his armor back on—literally and figuratively— you almost felt like you were looking and speaking to a different person.

The heat in your lower stomach felt that way too.

It flared when he was soft, but the switch from the man you knew to the Mandalorian always reminded you both of when you first met him and what he was truly capable of.

Plus, seeing the width of his shoulders accentuated by the most expensive and impenetrable metal known to man was not bad either.

You had been sitting at the usual meeting spot with Greef, ready to discuss the dozen pucks already sitting in front of you. You were still due for a new job after the boat-load of beskar given to you for the little green baby— which definitely was not still on your conscious— and Mando was running a bit late due to the crafting of his new armor. You waited anxiously to see the results.

“I have never held this much in my own hands before,” he had said to you, and you beamed up at him as he spoke. “This will likely be enough for an entirely new set.”

You had no idea how right he was.

You sat at the booth with Greef, making pleasant enough conversation, but mostly daydreaming of what Mando was seeing, feeling, touching. The pleasure to watch his own armor be crafted by hand, you could not even imagine what that would be like.

You took a sip of your drink—one that Greef had been so gracious to buy for you—and let it burn as you set it down on the sticky wooden table. As soon as the glass touched the wood, the entire cantina silenced, and all eyes went to the entrance. Your eyes followed the crowd’s, unable to see for certain what everyone was looking at.

It only took a few seconds for you to realize that the “what” was actually a “who,” and that “who” was the kindest man you had ever known wrapped in wealth, power, and impenetrability.

It was a good thing you had set your drink down, because it would have dropped to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces, because he was the sexist thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

This was the Mandalorian.

You thought his previous armor was intimidating—small shoulder pieces, a wide chest piece, and even wider thigh pieces. He was both a distraction to you and a threat to everyone else in that armor.

But now, now he fully covered, head to toe, in shimmering silver. His waist the tiniest you had seen it, with his shoulders as wide as they had ever looked. Almost the entirety of his legs were covered now, and even his helmet gleamed and glistened in the light. He walked straighter, stood taller, and stepped slower. Like he was enjoying this.

He had never looked more lethal, and with all of the eyes on him, his own were on you.

You stared back at him as he made his way, mouth slightly parted, and legs squeezing tighter and tighter together with each step he took. The typical slight steam in your stomach at the sight of him was now boiling hot, running through the blood in your body faster than you could process. The lack of blood flow to your brain caused it to wipe itself clean and focus solely on the warrior in front of you. Your hands began to shake and your mouth parched.

You were speechless. A deadly bounty hunter stunned speechless.

He said nothing as he scooched his way into the booth, and you remained looking at him even when his body was turned towards Greef.

“I want my next job,” he said.

Greef said something, something witty, but you didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.

“I want my next job,” Mando repeated. Amban rifle in his lap, leaning slightly forward.

Holy fuck the heat in you.

He grabbed a puck and began walking out, turning back to signal you to follow. You stood slowly, thanked Greef, and exited the Cantina, eyes locked on the expanse of his back the entire walk to the Crest.

~*~

It wasn’t two seconds after Mando put the security lock on the Crest that he had you cornered with his words.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. You were both in the cock pit, ready to take off, and you were standing in front of the controls.

“No,” you said, meeting his gaze as fiercely as you could. Your hands were glued to your sides and your fists squeezed so hard they stung.

“Okay,” he said, so fucking softly it hurt you. He was still making his way closer to you, forcing you to look up.

“Okay,” you responded, and you thought that was it. He would back off.

But your fucking eyes betrayed you, darting down to the expanse of his body, and he laughed.

“Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.

“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”

You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.

“What do you like about it?”

You could barely breathe enough to respond. Your throat instantly dried, and every word of any language was lifted from you.

“I—I like—” you started, swallowing “—I like the chest.”

“The chest,” he said, bringing your hand up to the cold metal. “What about it?”

You traced your fingers down it, still forced to look up at him by his leather glove. “I like how wide it makes you. How powerful.”

He stood there in silence before asking, “what else?”

“The legs,” you whispered. “I really like the legs.”

He nearly growled. “Why Y/N? Tell me.”

Your name on his lips at this stage of the game was too much.

“It makes them look big. Strong,” you said, heart in your throat. “I like that.”

He softened his grip on your face and moved his hand to the back of your neck. “I know you do.” He then tapped twice on his helmet. “Heat signature.”

Your face fell and paled.

How long had he—

“I’ve known since the first day I met you,” he said, massaging your neck. “Just never knew how to bring it up.”

“Why now?” you whispered, voice deep from the pleasure of his fingers.

“Because this is the strongest it’s ever been for you,” he replied. “And for me. Seeing you watching me like that…”

He brought his hand back to frame your face.

“…I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than you in that moment.”

He started pulling you forward by your face.

“And now i have you, don’t I?”

Yes he did, so much of you, parts of you you didn’t even know about before him.

“Yes.”

He let go of you and sat in the pilot’s seat, spreading his legs.

“So ruin me, Y/N. Ruin this bright and shiny armor.”

You practically jumped on him.

You immediately mounted him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, and felt all around the metal. Your breaths fogged up his helmet as you did, practically moaning at the chance to finally feel the expanse of his body. He kept his hands firmly on your hips, watching your face as you panted and whined in his.

After a few moments he picked you up and sat you on his right thigh.

“Go on.”

You immediately rolled your hips, fully moaning at the feeling, and rolled them faster and faster and deeper and deeper.

Your head began tipping back as the metal ground against your clit perfectly, but Mando pulled your face forward to rest your forehead on his.

“Mando—”

“It’s Din,” he said firmly, squeezing your hips enough to bruise. “Say it.”

You rolled your hips over and over, desperation dripping off your voice. “Din.”

It was then that he released a moan, ripped your pants and underwear off of you, and took control of your hips on his thigh. He placed you down just right and tears coated your eyes, sweat poured from your pours, and with one inch of incline from his leg, you shattered.

Your forehead fell against his, panting and whining “Din” over and over again as he kept you moving on him through your orgasm. You felt yourself drip down onto the floor and run down his legs, and your eyes rolled at the thought.

You held onto the fabric around his neck for dear life, gathering as much breath as you could, and Din just let you.

It was then that he started to feel you up.

He moved from your hips to your bare thighs, back up to your clothed breasts, then to your face to brush back your hair, and finally back down to your thighs. He gathered your drip from his thigh onto his leather glove. He brought it underneath his helmet, and your mouth dropped open.

He sucked it slowly, not making any noise except a slight groan. “I knew I was right.”

You swallowed, still panting in both exhaustion and shock. “Right?”

“I knew every part of you was perfect.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you smiled nice and wide. You had a feeling he was smiling too.

It was this sense of elation and euphoria that gave you the freedom not to think before sliding your hand over his hardened bulge and raising your eyebrows in question.

He chuckled, which somehow melted you more than anything he had done previously.

“Not right now,” he said sweetly, and pulled you into his chest. You cozied up into him before he slowly lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t think I’d last two seconds.”

You smiled, humming. “Okay Din.”

His body tensed a bit when you said that, and you wondered if you crossed some sort of boundary, but he continued on his way to his bed. He set you in It, wrapping you in his sheets, and grabbing a towel to clean you off. You got a good show of yourself stained and running all over his thigh and nearly jumped on him again.

“Like I said,” he countered, likely picking up on the change in your temperature, “I wouldn’t last two seconds.”

You nodded with a smile and he took the towel to the laundry room before returning to you, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Get some rest,” he said. “We have a job to do in the morning.”

He stood, making his way back to the cockpit, but you called out to him.

“Mando, wait,” you said, and he froze before slowly turning back around. “Are we okay? Was that…okay?”

He paused, leaning himself into the doorway, sighing as always, and said, “Y/N, I wouldn’t trade the world for the last hour I’ve had with you.”

You enjoyed this forward, talkative Din much more than you anticipated to.

“And call me Din,” he said. “Please.”

He then left you, starting up the Crest to make its way to hyperspace, and you drifted slowly into sleep, still on a high. You finally fell asleep to the feeling of a warm body wrapping itself around you, and a deep voice whispering in your ear, “We’re okay, Y/N. We’re okay.”

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not present/not working. Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin angst #din djarin imagine #dincember #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din x reader #dinluke #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandolorian fanart #star wars fanfiction #star wars #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller

[creedslove]

FAMILY BLISS 💘

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After dreaming so much about it, Joel finally finds out you are carrying his baby 🥺

(This can be read as a sequence of SLEEP BLISS 💤, SHOWER BLISS 🫧, MOONLIGHT BLISS 🌙, BABY BLISS 🍼 PART ONE AND TWO, CHOCOLATE CAKE BLISS 🎂 AND STORM BLISS ⛈️ or it can be read as a one shot)

Warnings: fluff, just fluff, pregnancy, pregnant reader, dad joel, fluff, fluff, fluff and fluff

A/N: I am back with a Bliss story because I missed Joel so much and it was about time we make this man happy!!! I know he's out of character but whatever, let's keep him happy! 🩷🩷🩷

1.1k words (short and sweet)

Joel's heart skipped a beat and his whole world stopped as he looked down at you, your scared, teary eyes, your voice not louder than a whisper as you had said two simple words. 

"I'm pregnant" 

Two words that made him feel dizzy and lightheaded for a moment, not being able to wrap his head around the fact you were indeed expecting a child. 

He had longed for that, at the same time he dreaded it, all the nights he spent buried deep inside of you, always hoping something would happen as he didn't pull out, but also being terrified that something would happen and that you two would have to face the consequences. 

Who mentally fit would actually bring a baby into the apocalypse? Who Would risk going through a pregnancy, labor, postpartum when the world went to hell? But the answer was simple: apparently you and him. 

You bit your lips so nervously, anxiety and fear were noticeable at any slight movement, you knew it could happen, it would probably happen, you weren't on birth control, Joel didn't pull out and lately he had been bringing it up the baby talk so many times, you didn't know until what extent he meant it or he was just daydreaming, but the reality hit you hard when you stopped getting your periods, your started feeling nauseous every single morning and suddenly all your jeans seemed tight. He had got you pregnant, and in a matter of months, a baby would come out of you, you were going to be a mom, and Joel would be a dad. 

A dad again. 

After almost a lifetime, Joel was gifted the opportunity of being a father, of having a child of his own, a child he could love, protect, and take care of. Even if he wasn't young anymore, even if he wasn't a good man anymore, no matter how many times you tried reassuring him, he wouldn't believe you, he was convinced he had become a bad person. 

But at the same time, he didn't believe bad people were rewarded good things, so either that meant he wasn't a bad person at all or that he didn't deserve you and the baby. But just as everything about your relationship, he was tired of denying himself a glimpse of happiness, he knew he wasn't worthy of you, and now he wasn't worthy of your baby, but he was selfish and he would keep the two of you to himself no matter what. 

He realized you expected something from him, a reaction, a comment, a smile or a frown. It killed you to see him standing still, an awkward silence filling the room.

Joel tried finding words to tell you, but he just couldn't, nothing would come out of his throat, so his hands just gripped your sides, pulling you to him, lifting you up and twirling you around, at the same time you squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You felt relief when he picked you up, still without saying a word, he kissed you. Your lips, your cheeks, the tip of your nose and your forehead. 

"Our baby" he finally whispered, resting his forehead against yours. His hands had a firm grip around your body, he just wouldn't let go of you, nor your baby, because the three of you were a family now and there was nothing in the world he loved more than that. 

He cupped your face with both hands, smiling and kissing you over and over "I love you, Y/N, I love your family" Joel said with a true happiness he hadn't felt in so long in his life. 

And over the following months he became the most protective partner in the world. If that was even possible, but he did and god, you couldn't have asked for a better man than Joel to have by your side. 

You were always so happy to welcome him home after patrol, always dinner ready for your man as he picked you up, kissed you and then lowered himself to your belly, kissing it and talking to the baby. 

You two still didn't know if you were having a little boy or a little girl, but it didn't matter, Joel was so excited he asked his brother to help him build the nursery. They would go with neutral colors and once baby Miller grew up you two could pick up the decoration you thought fit your baby the best. 

You were the most beautiful woman to Joel, no one looked as gorgeous as you did, the way your body got curvy with the pregnancy, your breasts looked filled up, it all awakened a hunger in him, he couldn't get enough of you, always touching you and making love to you, because yeah, now Joel also made love to you. It wasn't just fucking, it was also making love, and it felt incredible. 

Even when you were already heavily pregnant, feeling huge and unattractive, Joel was still there, to make you feel better and remind you how much he loved you. Your baby was growing strong in your womb and you were so anxious about it all, but every time you looked into his warm, brown eyes, everything was okay again.

He made sure to be by your side through everything, every single moment of your pregnancy, refusing to go on patrols when you reached the final weeks, not risking missing the birth of your beautiful miracle. And when time came and your water broke, he was also there. 

Joel was strong, ruthless and fearless, but he could swear you nearly crushed his bones when you held his hand. He watched you in awe as you screamed in pain and pushed as hard as you could in order to give birth to your baby. He could see you were exhausted, sweaty and a little pale, but you looked like a goddess to him. When your baby's first cries were heard in the room, the two of you were taken by such emotion. That tiny little thing placed in your arms was a baby girl. 

Joel had a daughter. Again. 

He looked at you and then at your beautiful little one, not believing how lucky he got even after everything that happened, how he had a reason to live after all this time he assumed his life had ended. 

He didn't even try to hide his emotion, the tears in his eyes as he carefully took the baby into his arms. His beautiful princess just whimpering softly before nuzzling his chest. 

You hadn't thought of a name yet, but the new baby Miller was already Joel's whole world and whenever he looked at you, there was nothing he wanted more than make you his wife, even if marriages weren't really a thing in the apocalypse.

_____

A/N: How could you say no to Joel asking you to have his babies???????????

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show

[little-diable]

How did she? - Aaron Hotchner (smut)

I've always wanted to write a father's best friend fic with Aaron, so here we go. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: (Y/n) runs into Aaron at a coffee shop, and even though she wonders why his name sounds so familiar, she ignores the warning signs.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), choking, age gap, dom!Aaron, sneaking around, somewhat public sex, basically just smut

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (about 2k words)

How did she end up here? How did she end up with her back arched off her father’s best friend’s mattress? How did she end up with his fingers wrapped around her throat and her legs slung around his waist? 

It had been an early morning the first time she had crossed paths with Aaron Hotchner, running into him at a coffee shop only a few blocks down from her apartment. Back then (y/n) hadn’t known anything about his ties to her father, the handsome man with dark eyes that told a story of lost lives and pouring blood, hands bigger than any she had seen before, made to handcuff those that unleashed their trauma upon their victims. 

“Oh god, I am sorry.” (Y/n) had murmured, dilated pupils taking in his handsome features, feeling her heat spread through her system. His voice had been soft, telling her that nothing had happened, a simple “Don’t worry” that would echo through her mind for weeks to come. She had been hooked from the very first moment, would have dropped to her knees right there and then for the man. 

The scent of his cologne had stuck for days, reminding her of their small interaction whenever her mind got a few seconds to daydream, wondering who the man that carried himself with an almost mysterious aura was. Back then she had been oblivious, eyes trying to make out the name that had been printed onto the ID-card hanging from his suit jacket, wondering why the name sounded so familiar. 

A few days later – days that had been spent with wandering hands and teeth marks left on her lower lip – (y/n) had run into him again, smiling at the man that stepped into the coffee shop only a few moments after her. It would have taken her too much courage to speak up, to exchange words with the man that hadn’t left her thoughts, but Aaron had taken the task upon himself, starting a conversation with the smiling woman. And even though he hadn’t shared much about himself, only his name, (y/n) had left the coffee shop with his number saved in her contacts and her heart skipping a few too many beats. 

She should have paid more attention to his name and the history tied to it, should have thought more about his profession and why everything about him seemed so familiar – but she hadn’t, ignoring the warning bells going off whenever she met with Aaron, joining him on a afternoon walk, grabbing coffee in the early morning or some food late at night. Nothing had happened until that very night she had been invited to her parents house, freezing in her step when her eyes had fallen upon Aaron’s frame. 

“(Y/n), do you remember Aaron? It has been a few years.” She had stuttered a small “No”, unable to rip her eyes from his confused features. Both hadn’t managed to look at one another for more than a handful of seconds, cursing one another for being this stupid, but while their conscious selves had stressed about Aaron's tie to (y/n)’s father, they hadn’t been able to stop their need for one another. 

It had been dangerous, stupid even, and yet it had been the first night they’ve shared a kiss, with (y/n) pressed against the door of Aaron’s SUV, hidden in the veil of darkness night had wrapped around the two, and her hands tugging on his roots. His voice had sounded deeper, raspier than before, growling a soft “So desperate for me, for your father’s friend, what would he think of you?”. It should have been enough to rip them out of their trance, stepping away from one another, and yet it had only pushed them closer together. 

––––

“Fuck, Aaron, I need more.” (Y/n) was heavily panting, hands gripping his covers, back arched off his mattress. Aaron was nestling between her thighs, mouth pressed against her core, tasting her arousal. His fingers were curled against her swollen spot, pushing her closer to her breaking point. Their eyes met every now and then, filled with lust, a desire reaching deeper than anything they’ve ever felt before. 

Aaron didn’t reply, he kept his eyes focused on her features, clearly challenging the moaning woman. He wouldn’t let go, not until she came on his fingers, with his name rumbling through her and her eyes squeezed shut. And who was she to pull away from him, not used to being treated like this. 

It was simple really, Aaron treated her like no other man ever had, with enough care to actually pay attention to (y/n), to the things she wanted and needed. And even though both knew that it was wrong what they were doing, they didn’t find the strength to let go, chasing one another whenever his job allowed them to spend time together. 

“So close, I-” (y/n)’s head rolled back, moaning into the night, letting her orgasm wash through her. Aaron kept pumping his fingers, not pulling away just yet, relishing in the sounds she made, how her walls clenched his fingers, not prepared for an orgasm this heavy. He only rose from his position when he felt her relax, panting with a few chuckles spilling from her lips. 

Aaron met her for a kiss, hands placed on either side of her head, giving her a few seconds to prepare herself for another round, heartbeat not able to slow down. Her shaking hand found his cock, pumping him a few times before he gently pushed her away, only to reach for a condom. Their swollen lips met for another kiss, momentarily distracting (y/n) from the feeling of his cock brushing through her folds, pushing into her without another warning. 

Her gasps guided him, like a ship making it through the dark sea, desperately searching for a lighthouse to guide it, weighing its capitan in false comfort. Aaron fucked her rough, skin meeting skin with every ferocious thrust, and yet he paid enough attention to her sounds, begging him to change his pace, needing to feel more of him, fingers and cock. 

(Y/n) was a moaning mess, putty in his hands – ever since they’ve fucked for the first time, one with their emotions guiding them. Aaron’s hand found her throat, squeezing just enough to heighten her senses, eyes not daring to flutter close, trying to uncover every thought, every emotion swimming in his pupils, a task she slowly but surely managed to master perfectly. 

“Atta girl, look at you, you’d do everything for me, huh?” She could only slightly nod her head, caged against the pillow that smelled like him, making her feel as if she was stuck in a simulation, surrounded by all things screaming Aaron Hotchner. A simulation she never wanted to break from, one with the man that currently fucked her closer to the edge, allowing her second orgasm of the night to rock through her. 

Tears dripped from her eyes, she was already overstimulated, unable to stop her body from trembling, shaking beneath the tall man as if she was freezing cold, drenched by the pouring rain, washing away her sins. His raspy chuckles left her burning from inside out, moaning his name as she came on his cock, clawing her fingernails into his forearm. 

Aaron followed her moments later, releasing himself into the condom with a groan, forehead pressed against hers. Only then did he let go of her throat, rolling off her to get rid of the condom before he pulled her into his chest, smiling into the kiss she pressed against his lips.

___

“Aaron, please, come in.” Her father’s voice echoed through the house, making her eyes snap towards the door. It was a warm August day (y/n) got to spend at her parent’s house, basking in the heat of the sun with her sunglasses on and her book placed right next to her. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on the words, distracted by the thoughts of Aaron, the man who’d spent the afternoon with her father, needing to keep up their little charade. 

“(Y/n)! Come say hi to Aaron.” Slowly she rose from her sunbed, trying to bite down the groan that threatened to rumble through her, body still aching from the way Aaron had fucked her only a few hours ago. She shot him a smile, eyes ranking over his frame as she neared him, sharing a short hug with the man who carried the marks of her fingernails on his back, hidden by his black dress shirt. 

“It’s good to see you, (y/n). How are you?” With a smirk pulling on his lips, Aaron followed (y/n) and her father back outside, greeting her mother with a kiss to the cheek. She barely spared her reply a thought, unable to think straight with Aaron standing this close to her, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms, eyes hidden by his dark sunglasses. 

Her eyes wandered towards Aaron at any given chance, not paying attention to the conversation her parents had pulled Aaron into, oblivious to the way their daughter stared at the man. And even though Aaron tried to keep his eyes focused on her parents, she felt his gaze flicker towards her every now and then, catching her gaze and the smirk she wore on her lips. 

Perhaps fate was on her side that very day, allowing the two lovers to give in the second her mother left for her afternoon yoga class and her father was pulled away by an important phone call that would take some time. Within moments Aaron pulled (y/n) in for a kiss, pressing her against the kitchen island with a short “Gotta be quiet, doll” rolling off his tongue. 

“We’ll have to be quick, you’re ready for me?” Barely any words managed to leave (y/n) as she took his hand to guide him towards her skirt, cunt bare for his wandering hands. A deep groan clawed through Aaron as his fingers touched her arousal-covered folds, dripping for him. And while (y/n) freed his hardening cock, he ripped a condom open with his teeth, allowing her to roll it down on his cock. 

“Turn around for me.” His tone left her shuddering, body turned from him, front pressed against the kitchen island. Aaron pushed into her without another warning, groaning as his eyes watched his cock disappear inside her tightness. Stiffled moans clawedd through (y/n) as he started fucking her, knowing very well that her father could walk on them any moment. 

She had a hard time keeping quiet, body tense, eyes squeezed shut. Bruises would form on her skin from the way he pushed her against the kitchen island with every thrust, and yet (y/n) couldn’t pay the pain any attention. Aaron had her clinging to the edge, about to let go after only a few thrusts. 

His fingers found her bundle of nerves, circling her clit with a smirk growing on his lips, feeling her clench around his cock. Aaron found pride in the way she was trembling for him, very well aware that he could do anything to her, not pulling away from the man she never wanted to part from again. 

“You’re already done for, huh? I knew you’d be turned on by this, allowing me to fuck you with your dad close.” Aaron’s groans managed to push her over the edge, eyes rolling back into her head, teeth drawing blood from her lower lip. He followed moments later, releasing himself into the condom with a small groan. With a gasp leaving her, (y/n) felt him pull out, taking off the condom before he redressed. 

"I'll get rid of this, tell your dad I had to leave, because of work. I'll see you tonight, right?" She met him for another kiss, murmuring an exhausted "Can't wait" against his smiling lips.

#Aaron Hotchner smut #Aaron Hotch imagine #criminal minds imagine

[babydollmarauders]

6 YEARS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: “Are you flirting with me right now?” “Have been for the last 6 years, thanks for finally noticing.” with Jack

notes: i’m not sure i’m happy with this one, but tumblr deleted over half of it when i was almost finished, so i had to rewrite it.

summers at the Hughes lake house have always been the highlight of my year. lazy mornings, afternoons on the boat, evenings spent in front of a blazing bonfire, and nights of joking around with close friends; i can’t think of anything better. this is the sixth year in a row that i’ve spent with my best friend and his family. despite being the same age as the middle Hughes brother, the oldest, Quinn, and i have been best friends for six years and counting. he’s both my best friend and my brother figure in one package.

his brother, Jack however, is another story. the entire time i’ve been friends with Quinn, Jack has been the main subject of my daydreams. at first i thought i was just projecting, as my favorite romance trope has always been ‘best friends brother’, but after so many years, i’ve realized that i do actually really like him. he’s sweet, and funny, and attractive, and an all around amazing guy. like when i first moved to New Jersey to work as a media intern for the Devils and Jack immediately stepped in and showed me all the best places in town and told me i can call him if i ever need anything. however, i’ve accepted my role as Quinn’s annoyingly clingy best friend, and it’s a role i’m willing to accept.

“y/n! you gonna play strip truth or dare with us?” Trevor asks.

“why do you guys wanna see each other naked?” i question, eyeing the boys sat around the campfire. but then it dawns on me. “oh. you wanna see me naked.”

they all laugh as Quinn comes walking back outside from getting a new beer.

“what did i miss?” he asks me as he reclaims his seat to my left.

“they tried to get me naked.” i joke, but apparently Quinn doesn’t find it very funny.

“what?” he says. “hey! keep your dicks in your pants. none of you are seeing my best friend naked!”

they all chuckle before starting new conversations amongst each other.

“Quinny, your big brother side is showing.” i laugh.

“brother?” Jack chimes in from his spot on my right. “you want Quinn to be your brother? i think i can arrange that.”

“and how are you gonna do that?” i question.

“by making him your brother-in-law.” he says.

“are you flirting with me right now?” i ask, equal parts confused and intrigued.

“have been for the last 6 years, thanks for finally noticing.” he turns in his seat and gives me a cocky smirk, raising an eyebrow as he sips his beer.

“huh?”

“y/n is oblivious when it comes to flirting, Jack.” Quinn jokes.

“i feel like i should be offended.” i say, but my words go ignored.

“i can’t even tell you how many times we’ve been at a bar together and guys will come up and quite obviously be flirting with her and she just thinks that they’re being nice.” Quinn laughs.

“it’s cute.” Jack looks over at me. “i’ve been flirting with you the entire time i’ve known you and you really just never realized it until now.”

“i thought it was all in my head.” i admit, shrugging. “that i was seeing things just because i wanted to see them.”

Jack leans over the side of his chair and crooks his finger at me to signal for me to do the same. i glance over to Quinn but find him in a conversation with Cole, so i turn back and lean towards Jack. once he’s deemed that we’re close enough, his lips ghost the shell of my ear.

“so you wanted me to be flirting with you?” he whispers. “did you think about me kissing you too?”

i swallow a lump in my throat as he pulls back just enough to look in my eyes. i part my lips, but nothing comes out, so i settle for a nod. he uses his index finger to clutch under my chin, pulling my face even closer.

“like this?”

he gives me no time to think before his lips press against mine. it takes me a couple seconds to unfreeze but my lips start moving against his. his tongue pushes past my lips, exploring against my own before he pulls away, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth, letting it go and pop back into place.

“dude, what the hell?” Quinn asks from behind me.

“you gave me permission.” Jack replies, looking at him.

“i gave you permission to date her, not make out with her right in front of me!”

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#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #faithlynn’s 500 celly! #faithlynn’s writings <3 #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl blurb

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) the word daddy is thrown into this once* mentions of pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 28 - ‘You’re Mine’

Dianne and you sat in her kitchen while she explained something she had seen on Instagram the other day. You smiled and nodded. All the time that you spent with Dianne made you miss your own mum a lot. You'd always end up calling her after you left her house on your way back home.

“When does he come back?” Your mum’s voice echoed through the car's speaker as you drove to your house. Your eyes fixed on the road as you rounded a windy corner before your neighborhood.

“Thursday, so that’ll be nice to have him home.” You cooed dreaming of Trent’s return. He was coming back from preseason in the next few days and you had found yourself glued to the rest of his family, missing him just wanting to be around the familiarity. Being in your house without him always was a little lonely so being at Dianne’s was nice to hear the accents, see photos of him as a little boy, have their dogs be with yours, eat dinners with family, those types of things. It also made Trent feel better you weren’t by yourself and happy that you got along with them so well.

“Have you spoken to your dad? He’s trying to plan a trip over but didn’t want to bother you.” You mum spoke cautiously. Her hesitancy baffled you. What did she mean spoken to dad? You always talked to him.

“He doesn’t bother me ever?” You said confused and a little saddened by the statement. Sometimes being away from your family hurt your heart. You couldn’t always feel the emotion the same or understand the sentiment of words over texts and calls. It upset you that the distance could possibly strain your relationships. You tried to visit one another as often as you could but it wasn’t all that frequent.

“Just give him a call. I don’t think he wanted you to feel like you needed to involve Trent.” You started to laugh at your mum's discretion. It was so ridiculous but then again sometimes you forgot you lived with Trent, the person when a lot of people, even those closest to you, would always see him as Trent, the footballer. You ended the call with her before pulling in your drive. You scrolled on your phone multitasking as you trotted back into your house seeing a video Liverpool had posted on instagram of your pretty footballer. Okay, to be fair, sometimes you had a hard time remembering he was even a real person, he was so gorgeous. A video of him in training dripping, glistening in sweat under the sun had you feeling the heat in a different type of way. You cheekily reshared the post to your Instagram story with a text overlay ‘girl dinner 🤤’ Almost immediately responses to your story flooded in, screenshots reshared of the post.

‘Literally is one of us’

‘No, girl cause same 😭’

‘The fact that even she feels this way about him’

‘Girl dinner fr’

‘Don’t be shy, share some more pics of your dinner at home’

The comments made you laugh and simultaneously miss him just a little bit more. As Thursday night rolled around you were dozing in and out of sleep tucked in your big bed anxiously awaiting your man. Pillows tossed around cuddled up in a t-shirt of his that had scrunched up putting your whole body on display. Your legs tangled in the blankets. You laid holding your phone over your face as the blue light illuminated your features. You scrolled and scrolled on TikTok until you got the ad to take a break. You ignored it and continued in your doom until a faint smile appeared on your face. Your cheeks warmed as a familiar face showed on the screen again. A deep dimple dug into his cheek while he flashed a big childish grin. The man you loved was laughing in a promotional video for the club with Andy. You’d never felt more envious of his teammates. To be in the same room as that laugh. The warm echo coming from your phone made your heartbeat a little harder, ache a little more, yearn terribly for him. You shamelessly clicked on the hashtag of his name and combed through edits of him. You must’ve watched one particular sexy yet cute video of him on loop for 15 minutes plus. You shut your eyes just trying to remember the way his brown ones glimmered in the video. That was maybe a benefit of Trent’s fame, you got to watch edits of him. It was a little treat to always be able to see him. Sure, everyone else got to share the view but it made you giddy knowing the boy in that video was going to be coming home just to you soon. You tossed and turned anxious for Trent to return. He said he was coming home tonight but you didn’t press for the exact time so when you crawled into bed around 23:00 you were desperate for him to be there next to you but as your eyes got heavier and heavier your body’s need for sleep overtook your desire to be awake for when he arrived. You hugged his pillow that his scent had faded from. It wasn’t like he left you, you just missed him and that you did an awful lot. You missed him so much. You fell asleep on your stomach, your knee raised and pulled up to your side, your arms still hugging his pillow. You were out cold fast asleep when the door to your room opened quietly. A little stream of light seeped into your room and cast over your frame. You didn’t budge but when you felt the most perfect pair of lips in the world press onto your smooth hot skin you shivered. Trent nudged his nose against your back. Pressing his cheek against you. Nuzzling his face into you. He hummed, running his cool hands over you. Pressing kisses all over your back as he pushed your shirt up further leaving your skin glistening with his spit. Your whole body lit up tingling under him.

“I’m home, baby.” He whispered behind your ear with another sensual kiss. The words ignited a fire inside you. You didn’t know if waking up to his touch was going to make you cry or orgasm. Jesus, his hands felt good. You hummed as his whole body pressed into yours including his hardening cock. “Missed you so much, beautiful.” He kept kissing your bare back. It was a thing you’d kind of landed on by accident but when Trent came home you wanted him to fuck you right away, to wake you up even if you were asleep. That’s just how bad you missed him. Of course, if you didn’t want to you could say so but that was few and far between.

“T…” you whined attempting to turn but his body weight on you wouldn’t let you. You reached behind you gripping his shirt tight in your fist. “Baby” you gasped out. You felt the most blissful form of helplessness underneath his heavy weight. The surge of warmth from his body radiated against you. He leaned away from you for a moment to pull his shirt over his head. His chest came pressing against your bare skin under the blankets.

“C’mere.” He whispered pulling you impossibly closer to him. You moaned and arched your spine. Your ass pressing into him, his hands sliding under you to cup your boobs. “Your T’s back, yeah? Get this off for me.” He kept his lips so close to your skin. The warmth of his breathe on you as he spoke had you quivering, letting him manipulate your body to peel the t-shirt off you. You cocked your head to the side as he kissed the side of your lips moving into a messy desperate kiss. He kissed you softly at first and then gradually it intensified as you clung to him as your mind dizzied. He stayed laying directly on top of you pressing you into the mattress grinding his cock down on you. “Stay just like this f’me” he whispered again pulling your panties off. His hand slipped between the lips of your pussy. You were soaked just from the makeout alone. He teasingly played with your clit. He was rock hard as his tip nudged your wet pussy.

“T... please” you begged for him to be inside of you as pushed back into him. He lined his cock up with your entrance before rolling his hips to slowly slide himself in deeper and deeper. Letting out a quiet sleepy moan. “Such a good girl” he cooed. Trent began moving in and out, taking his time with you, letting you adjust to his size, his hands caressing your naked body. You bit the pillow case to try to muffle your moans. “Want to hear you, beautiful. Missed you so much” as he pulled your face gently off it tilting it to the side.

“I missed you so much, baby.” You whined feeling him hit deeper and deeper. Your arms clutched onto the sheets beneath you as your cheek pressed further into the bedding. You kept pushing your ass against him wanting more. The sound of your soaked pussy and his languid but hard thrusts filling the room.

“You’re so wet, baby. Who made you this wet? Huh?” Trent asked greedily, wanting to hear you say his name. As you softly cried out his name again and again his cock began to hit that one spot so deep inside you only he knew repeatedly.

“Holy sh-shit I’m gonna cum, baby. Please please let me cum.” You begged, feeling your orgasm rapidly approaching unable to slow it. He slipped his fingers nimbly under you and worked them in tight circles around your throbbing clit. “T.. fuck! Oh my god, oh my god.” You cried out as your high rippled through you. Your thighs quivering uncontrollably under his weight.

“Good girl. Doing so well, baby.” Trent said with a smile pulling across his face having to bite his lip just from the sight of seeing you cum underneath him as his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His fingers stayed playing with your clit for a little as you trembled, starting to overstimulate you. You whined as your heaving chest pressed further into the mattress.

“Baby, please cum inside me. I need you.” You moaned feeling the overstimulation turn into another bout of pleasure that was consuming all your thoughts, your brain turning to mush as he continued to fuck you. You needed him to fill you up. You loved Trent having control of you, letting him fuck you into the mattress like this.

“I got you, baby. Cum for me one more time. Cum with me, yeah?” He whispered in your ear. Your pussy dripped around him. You bit your lip, looking at him with desperate doe eyes. Trent could feel the veins running along his cock throbbing. He worked his hips faster, harsher. Both of your pleasure building higher and higher.

“T… oh my god, please fill me up.” You whined between ragged breaths from his thrusts. He grunted at the thought of you carrying his child. He bit down onto your shoulder, his pace growing sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Be a good girl for me. Fuck!” Your muscles tensed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head before you felt his warm cum start to seep into you. Your own orgasm crashing over you. “Take all of my cum in this pussy, yeah baby?” He thrusted a few more times before he began to still while his pulsating cock still dribbled into you, your pussy fluttered as you panted beneath him. He softly stroked your hair and gently kissed your temple. “I love you, baby. Did so good f’me.” You smiled breathlessly as he began to coat your glistening frame with the same gentle kisses that started this. He kissed you in a way that you could feel just how much he adored you with each one. He loved you more than he could ever articulate with words but you could always feel it in the silences. He got off the bed and then cleaned you up before he tucked you neatly back in his arms.

“I’m so happy you’re home, baby.” You cooed quietly as your eyes fluttered closed. He held you close to his chest pressing kisses onto your hair.

“I’m happy I’m home too, beautiful. Love you so much.” He whispered as he could feel your breathing start to slow, your head heavier on him. “Get a good sleep, baby.” He whispered again with one final kiss before closing his eyes.

You rustled under the covers waking up to a pretty sleepy brown skinned boy on your chest. Your dainty manicured nails scratched at his scalp. He nuzzled further into you. You giggled a little at his clinginess and dragged your nail over his cheek bone down his jaw before you squeezed the muscle in between his neck and shoulder. You pressed your lips to his forehead, then slowly peeled them off his skin. His arms wrapped tighter around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. He started to place light kisses all over your bare stomach.

“Morning, pretty boy.” You whispered, returning your nails to gently scratch the back of his neck. He hummed. Trent’s eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile pulled on his lips. He looked up at you with heavy eyelids.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart.” His morning voice was rough and the syllables dripped out of his mouth. Your cheeks brightened hearing and seeing him back in your bed. He sat up a little resting his body weight on his forearms next to your body. His chin coming to rest on your collarbone. He turned his head to the side to get a better look at the features of your face. A crease from your pillow indented into your smooth skin, your lips pout and puffy. His eyes squinted nuzzling his face into your neck placing a soft kiss against your skin pushing the warm metal of your necklace against you. He pulled away and smiled again. His fingers wrapped under the chain of your necklace gently and looked into your eyes “Did you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the world?” He cooed watching you go shy under his gaze.

“Stop…” you rolled your eyes embarrassed hearing his compliment leaning back onto your headboard. You sheepishly smiled before you kissed the top of his head coming to grab your phone from the nightstand. You looked at the time and sighed. You just showed the screen in silence to Trent letting him know you two had slept late into the morning, it really was almost the afternoon.

“Don’t care.” He murmured laying his body weight back on top of you as he started sucking on your skin leaving love bites working his way down your chest. You finagled your hands to reach under his arms. You pulled him up off you with a giggle and a shake of the head.

“We have to get up!” You yelped muddied in a laugh as he dramatically rolled off you groaning. He laid on his back staring at the ceiling in desperation.

“Babbbyyy…” he whined. “It’s been weeks, c’mon, please, I need you.” He begged despite having sex a few hours ago. You looked at him with raised eyebrows amused.

“It was your job not mine!” You teased with a smug grin playfully slapping at him. Him being away from you wasn’t exactly his fault but it wasn’t yours either. You sat up some more and started to get off the bed. Your legs dangled off the edge as you stretched looking around for the clothes he had peeled off you last night. Trent grabbed your phone off the bed to look at the time again and swiped up unlocking it. He navigated around to see what you’d been up to since he left. Making his way to your camera roll, he scrolled through your recent pictures.

“Didn’t send this to me…” he mumbled and huffed while he rolled his eyes looking at a mirror pic you took to send to Lauren of your outfit one day. You had asked if it was too slutty, she said no, you landed on yes so you changed hence why Trent wouldn’t have seen it. You just smiled at his feigned annoyance and stood up, walking away from him. He opened your TikTok that was still on the liked video edit of him. The smug look that came over this boy's face was ridiculous. He laughed to himself and rolled over on his stomach kicking his feet like a little girl giddy, pretty happy scrolling through comments.

‘Daddy’

‘He’s so fine’

‘Obsessed with him’

“What?” You asked him unaware as you listened to him giggle. You turned around to see his eyes practically closed; they were squinted so much from his big smile. He turned the phone around for you to see the video playing cutting to different angles of himself.

“What’s this? Hmm?” He laughed with a load of self satisfaction you couldn’t even make up. You walked over to him and snatched the phone clicking off the power button.

“Oh stop! Get over yourself!” You yelped, unable to hide your own laughter. “Also! It’s not like you’ve never watched an edit of yourself. You love it” you poked fun at him trying to deflect. “That’s embarrassing you watching that.” You teased.

“Nah, I’m not the one liking the videos thirsting over me.” He cooed standing up and walking towards you. You rolled your eyes still trying to tame the big smile on your face from being ‘caught.’

“Well they don’t make edits of me for you to like do they?” You rebutted as he got closer to you despite you trying to take steps further away with a childish grin.

“They should” he cooed, keeping his distance as he gave you a sly smile. You could feel the tension rise in the room. The air going thick.

“They should…” you giggled, sarcastically agreeing but flattered with his comment. Your cheeks burning, beginning to hurt from your smile. He always was quick with his words that managed to make your legs feel like jello in an instant.

“C’mere.” Trent lunged at you and you squealed as his big arms wrapped around you, swinging you around. He had you in his hold within milliseconds and you were unable to escape. “You fangirling over me? Hmm?” Trent teased biting on your neck playfully, still manhandling your body in his arms. “Tell me baby… do you have a little crush on me? Think I’m fit?” he laughed as you squirmed, particularly entertained with his findings.

“Yes, T, you’re very very pretty. We get it.” You giggled rolling your eyes ignoring his ego finally breaking out of his grasp. Truthfully, he let you go, he was much too strong for you to manage that on your own. After you ‘escaped’ from him he grabbed your waist quick to pull you back in for a real kiss. You spent the day together and you were just so happy to have him physically home instead of sitting on a FaceTime with him as you cooked your dinner alone. It was much better to feel his hands on you then have him tell you about them. The TikToks were great but the IRL version of Trent was just perfect.

The season had kicked off without a hitch and somehow it was already rapidly approaching the middle of it as you stood in your wardrobe eyes wide. Your summer of warm weather and talk about babies with Trent was long gone. You dragged your hand over the racks of clothing trying to figure out what to wear to Trent’s match tonight. Previously you had been thinking of all the ways you’d have to be hiding a bump at this point but that wasn’t the case. The tiny waist of your pants zipped up perfectly still. Due to the frequency of your appearances at games you felt like you were running out of outfit ideas. It was like doing a weird rubik's cube trying to find new possibilities and variations of match day looks. Trent wasn't around as much. He was heads down, focused, you understood that and you supported him best you could. What was unbelievable to you though was how despite living together in the same house there were weeks like this one where you barely saw him. Christmas was around the corner and you had decided to stay in Liverpool this year, mostly for Trent’s busy schedule but also because you had gone to the US last year. It stressed you out it was getting closer but for the moment your stress was funneled into trying to decide if you wanted to wear heels or sneakers. You ended up wearing a pair of jordans with a black bodysuit that hugged you tight and a pair of cargo pants. You paired a black Prada puffer coat and a Chanel flap bag with the fit. It was simple but sometimes it just felt better to play it low key. You weren’t having to hide a baby bump but you didn't mind hiding yourself all together from people potentially staring at you. Walking around in an Alexander-Arnold jersey at a match sometimes had the effect like wearing a target on your back.

You sat in the box nestled between Marcel and Dianne. It was cold and you could feel your nose run a little as rain poured down on the pitch. Dianne put her hand on your thigh and squeezed your leg as you all anxiously watched Trent walk over to take a corner kick. You followed his methodical movements. In a bizarre way he was incredibly graceful. For someone who was so rough and strong he seemed to move so smoothly and it always impressed you. It impressed you but it didn’t surprise you considering what he was like in bed and how his hands moved on you but you were trying not to let your thoughts go in that direction as you sat next to his mum watching him. You would never tell him how graceful you thought he was though because you’d likely never hear the end of a rant about his technique or the technical side of football, the beauty of the game, whatever it was… he would just end up yapping away. You’d save the comment for a time where he was wired and you were too tired to talk.

Another game and another assist came and went for Trent as you sat in the box listening to his brother talk to you similarly to how Trent would, overly animated, fast, eager to keep your attention. Time went by quickly with Marcel in your ear. You loved him like a brother and just the same he annoyed you like one too. Trent finally appeared in the box moving sluggishly in his tracksuit. You just wanted to run up and hug him, squish him, he looked so cozy. You restrained yourself and let him say hello to everyone; family, friends, niceties to people he didn’t know, making his way through the room. He spotted you waiting patiently leaning your head on Marcel’s shoulder. His face lit up. He winked at you before finishing a conversation he was currently in with a person from the club. When he finished he strided over to you with the same grace and swagger he carried on the pitch. He dapped up Marcel and then stared at you waiting for you to move. He licked his lips and flashed you a smile. You stood up and stepped into his warm embrace silently understanding what he wanted. You kissed under his chin as he squished you against his chest.

“Now thisss is who I’ve been waiting to see” he cooed, kissing the top of your head. Your heart warmed and faltered a little every time he was so open in front of other people about his feelings. “Ready to go home, pretty girl?” He cooed, releasing you from his tight hold but keeping you close to him, his hand lingering on your ass as you tried to subtly swat it away as you stood still talking with his family. You threw him a quick glare. He just looked at you with a big smile, unphased, not budging. He patted your ass cockily proving to you that he was going to do what he wanted when he wanted. He was in control of this relationship, at least physically… that is until you’d pout and cry and he’d cave in an instant. You both liked things that way.

The week rolled on and Trent was at an away game for the champions league versus Paris Saint Germain. You missed him just the same every time he left but it was every week and there was no use in dwelling when it was going to happen. You were on FaceTime with Trent yet again doing nothing but talking nonsense as you were in your bedroom trying on some clothes you had recently bought. You propped the phone up on the dresser for him to see both you and your reflection standing in the mirror.

“T... does this look nice?” You cooed, not looking at the phone. He smiled and chuckled before you changed your mind disregarding any answer he was going to give. You unzipped the little dress and it fell off you and pooled on the ground. Trent cleared his throat letting himself stare at your naked body. You pursed your lips looking dissatisfied with the turn out of your haul. You slipped back on the little thong you were in but had taken off for it not to show under the dress. Trent laughed some more as he felt his cheeks grow warmer. He shook his head in disbelief at your body as you innocently and naively walked back over to the phone turning him on an incredible amount by doing nothing but simply existing back at home.

“Beautiful, baby.” He watched your face light up at his compliment. You looked absolutely unreal as his eyes widened and he smirked. You stared at each other longingly, greedily missing each other but you jumped a little when suddenly your doorbell rang throughout the empty house. You flashed a look of confusion at Trent who heard the noise too. It was odd for someone to be coming to your door like this. If you did have a delivery coming, you always knew about it ahead of time so you looked at Trent again only for him to nod with a grin.

“Well go see…” he threw his head to the side gesturing to you to go open the door. He had a knowing look on your face you didn’t enjoy.

“T… what is this?” You hesitantly walked down the stairs. You cautiously approached your front door to see a delivery man patiently waiting. You put Trent down before opening it. You greeted the man and accepted the package. It was a pretty sizable brown unmarked box. Your brow furrowed as you took it inside. You picked your phone up back up off the console and placed it on the box as you carried both into the kitchen.

“What is it? Go on.” Trent's voice came from the phone reminding you he was there and when you looked down his mischievous smile stared to grow a bit bigger.

“I don’t like that you know what this is…” you paused. “You do know right?” You flashed your eyes at him for an answer. He nodded confirming he did. You mangled the tape off the exterior box unwinding excess packaging material galore before finding a big orange box. You just about felt your heart stop. “No… don’t do this.” You spoke in a shaky voice.

“You’re taking forever…” he whined. You rolled your eyes at his impatience. You opened the lid of the orange box and your jaw slacked. You took the heathered dust bag out of the box and immediately knew holding it.

“Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up” Your eyes started to welle. Trent tried to talk but you had no idea what he was saying in your state of surprise as you pulled the Hermes birkin 25 out. A hunk of leather had never felt more special in your hands. Your eyes blinked a few times in disbelief you were holding the bag.

“So…” Trent’s voice broke through your moment of utter shock. You shook your head trying to get back to the present moment. You pouted at him unsure what you ever did to deserve him and right now… a fucking birkin.

“Why did you do this, baby?” You cooed in a sappy tone. He just smiled.

“You haven’t read the card… baby, you are taking forever, seriously” He giggled as he watched you pick up the little piece of stationary.

‘Meet me in Paris xx’

“Are you serious?” You started to actually cry now. Tears rolled down your cheeks. One drop splattered onto the card diluting the blank ink of the card stock.

“Why are you crying? Just come meet me, yeah? What do you think?” He spoke a little bit softer seeing you get emotional. You sniffled and nodded your head. “Alright, good, baby. Can’t wait to see you.” Your conversation and stun continued through the night as he told you more legitimate details. Trent had got you a flight to meet him in Paris after his game to spend the night there with him. You eagerly packed absolutely delirious with excitement. You weren’t sure how to pack a birkin but you sure as hell would be finding a way to bring it with you.

There was a knock at your hotel door. You giddily jumped up from the bed and rushed over to look through the little peep hole. As expected, the beautiful boy you watched play a football match earlier this afternoon stood there. You opened the door slow with a sly smile as you leaned against the door frame before him in a slinky silk robe tied at your waist.

“Room service” He cooed cheekily and you just shook your head at his poor joke looking into his dark eyes but played along.

“Just what I ordered.” You giggled, dragging him into the room by his shirt. He stumbled following your harsh pull. He dropped a Louis Vuitton duffle bag on the floor. You heard it hit the carpet but you were totally transfixed on him, completely consumed. The way his hands felt gliding over the material of your robe covering your ass, pulling it up revealing some of your skin, sent a shiver run down your spine. “Do you have time for this?” You said quiet withholding your lips a short distance from his.

“Baby… I always have time for you.” He whispered before his lips pressed into yours. Your body electrified under his touch. You could feel something between you two was different in this hotel room. It was tense and exciting. Maybe it was the way his whisper had tickled your ear. The sensation eliciting something dangerously carnal within you. He untied your robe swiftly, slipping it off your shoulders with a ghosting touch.

His lips melted into yours. It was hot and heavy, like the kiss could bruise your lips. He breathed in your gasp as you felt his hard cock throb against you. The kiss was sloppy with teeth and spit, desperation kicking in after your time apart. You choked a little in the kiss surprised when he pushed you back to the bed. He was confusingly rough and gentle at the same time. His face came level with your core. He pulled your lace panties off slow but with vigor. His fingers made quick work between your wet folds before he spit onto your quivering pussy spreading it around your clit with his thumb. You whined as he moved kisses up your body while he slipped his fingers inside and continued to work them in and out of you. His free hand uncliped your bra.

“Take this off f’me, baby.” Your whines continued falling from your lips repeating his name in pleasure. The words were going straight to his cock that was becoming painfully hard. “I got you, cum f’me.” He whispered sucking on your neck. His fingers movements were harsh compared to his gentle words. You inhaled hard before you could even tell him you were cumming. You felt your walls pulsating around his fingers, your juices leaking down his hand some. He pulled them out slowly, both of his hands coming to knead your tits sensually as he pressed his covered hard cock onto you. You could feel the precum seeping through his thin boxers.

“Please fuck me, T. I need you inside me.” His cock twitched hearing your frenzied voice. You blinked up at Trent with doe eyed and slightly teary ones after your orgasm continued to linger. He slid off his boxers before pulling you into another steamy kiss. He rolled you over to be under you. Eagerly you began to grind your dripping pussy deliciously against his abs. The slick from you and the precum leaking from his tip smeared across your bodies.

“I need you right now.” He groaned out before pushing you back some as you lifted your hips for him. He lined his big cock up with your entrance and helped guide you down slowly. “Fuck, baby, so good” he choked out. He watched you sink down onto his length but your eyes were focused on the pleasure washing over his face. You nodded once he was all the way in for him to move. You bounced on top of him as he thrusted into you in perfect synchronized movements.

“I love you so much, baby.” You whimpered. The rhythm of your bodies was sublime. Trent's eyes glazed over seeing your tits bounce in front of him as you whined out. You hooked your arms around his neck as his big hands slid up your body coming to play with your hard nipples.

“I love you. Shit, I love you so much.” He moaned, feeling the warm pulsations as he eased in and out of you. The tender moment was juxtaposed with the filthy sounds of your bodies coming together. “My girl’s so beautiful, do you know that? Gonna get you pregnant. Gonna make you the most beautiful mummy.” He whispered, pulling you down into an intimate urgent kiss overcome with emotion. You nodded before moaning out something that had got you started on this journey in the first place.

“Uh huh, daddy” you smiled imagining making him one. It was a name you said earnestly but also a little teasingly, not hating the way you felt him fuck into you a little big harder when he heard it. His eyes shut tight as he rashly flipped you over again to be on top and began hammering into your g spot. Your back arched and your lips parted in loud cries.

“Say it again.” He grunted out. And so you did. Trent swore he could cum right there. He continued slamming into you as you wrapped your legs around him. “I love you, baby.” His words swallowed as you came in for another kiss.

“I love you.” As tears started to roll down your cheeks overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion. He continued with his harsh thrusts paired with the most gentle touches. Your body was being rocked against the mattress when he slipped his fingers into your mouth. Flustered by his pace you gaged around them, drooling, sucking desperately.

“I love you so fucking much. Such a good girl for me. Doing so good for me. Taking me so well.” He groaned watching you before he slid his fingers down to rub perfect circles on your clit.

“I’m cumming. Fuck! You feel so good. Ffuck.” You cried out as your lips parted again before his hips closed on yours again. You chanted his name overtaken by the pleasure consuming your whole body. Trent wanted to hear the sounds you were making forever on repeat. The knot in your stomach tightened before it snapped as more tears fell. You clenched tighter around his throbbing cock. He took his fingers off your clit to wipe away your tears sweetly then kissed onto your neck lovingly.

“Baby, I need to cum in this pretty pussy. Need to fill you up. Need you. Gonna.. shit! Gonna cum. Gonna get you pregnant.” He grunted out. His cock twitching deep inside you seconds before he came painting your insides, filling you up as promised. You continued moaning as you rode him through his orgasm. His movements stilled and he laid on top of you stuck to your body. He stayed inside for sometime before he pulled out. His fingers coming to gently push his leaking cum back inside you gently. You whined at the feeling. He came to lay next to you and pulled you onto him.

“Please love me forever.” You pathetically begged deliriously. Between the physical exhaustion and the mental reverie you were in you could barely stay awake. He held you close to him as your body relaxed against his.

“I’ll love you forever, Y/N.” He whispered with a smirk almost out of breath, panting, placing a kiss behind your ear. Trent stared at you falling asleep on him, your bare back, the dim light in the room illuminating your raised spine as his fingers traced down it. Your cheek squished by your own weight on one side of his chest…Your pale pink manicured hand sprayed across the other side. He stroked over your bare ring finger. He felt his heart beat a little faster. “Gonna give you everything you deserve, baby.” He whispered. Your eyes fluttering open again. You glanced up at him, gliding your hand on him down his soft skin. You had never felt more at peace or more in love with him. You laid tucked in Trent’s arms as your heartbeats synced. His hands caressing your skin with his big hands. He nestled his face in the nape of your neck.

“I really want this…” you cooed quiet. Your voice sounded perfect at that moment but his heart broke a little remembering sitting on the couch with you months ago after the doctor left. He knew immediately what you were talking about.

“C’mere” he turned you around to lay your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your entire frame as he squeezed you tight. “We’re gonna make you a mummy, promise.” He spoke equally as quiet into the shell of your ear. His stubble against you made you shiver into him. Just hearing the word ‘mummy’ sent your emotions over the edge. Thank god he turned you to face the other way. Your eyes filled with tears although you didn’t make a sound. You wanted to be a mummy for him so bad. To give him what he wanted. You nuzzled your head back into the space between his shoulder and his neck. Your hands dragged over his arms across you before one reached behind you and glided over his cheek, the other squeezing his thigh beside you. You smiled unprompted imagining the chaos your house would unfold into with a baby involved. Pulling a little 66 jersey over a curly head of hair on match day. Cuddling on the couch with a third tiny human. Him in the back garden running about with a toddler and a ball. It all just worked. It made perfect sense in your mind that your perfect man would be the perfect dad.

“We'll do it, baby.” You giggled thinking about Trent as a dad.

“Yeah? Glad you’re on my team now. I know we will too.” He pecked your cheek. His hands spread over your stomach. “You want food, pretty girl? I’m starving.” Your mind went blank for a moment. You forgot you were in a hotel, you forgot you were in Paris for god sake. In the best way possible, Trent had the ability to steal you entirely from reality. Your world revolved around him and those glimmering eyes and that cheeky smile. You sat on his lap at a table in the room. Thinking about it as you sat unnecessarily on him you two probably were a little nauseating with affection but you just wanted to be closer to him. You both ate far too much food but to be fair you worked up quite an appetite.

“We’ll just take it in stride, alright? Try not to stress about this.” He cooed veering into a conversation about the logistics of your pregnancy situation. Trent didn’t want you to feel like the second he was off the pitch you had to fuck to get pregnant. He wanted you to want him to make love to you. To keep the emotions in the sex not fall into the monotony of the act. You appreciated that he cared and understood neither of you wanted it to ever become transactional. You fell to sleep after having the real room service, a shower, and another sleepier fuck, refusing to leave the room clinging to him and the moment alone you were finally getting to have after spending too much time apart lately.

You woke up in the morning cuddled so close to him you could barely breathe, the heat between you two was making you both slightly sticky and yet you loved every second of it. You sleepily kissed up his jawline and back down again. He grumbled still asleep. He looked like an angel. Trent couldn’t find the strength to wake up. He was absolutely gassed from his match and your night. He was glued to your body. The alarms of your phones were going off but both of you were just reveling in being in each other's company too much to even try to get up. You continually hit ‘snooze’ on your phones every time they rang out. He started to groggily wake and pulled you into a tight embrace. You cuddled in a more intentional manner than a sleepy one now. Nothing else mattered than you two in this bed. Trent didn’t feel like he had just played a match in one of the largest competitions in all of football. He felt like he was just yours right now and that’s all he wanted to be for the moment as he felt your heartbeat under your warm skin.

“I’m exhausted…” you cooed stroking over his hair. Leaning your head further onto him, plagued by sleep.

“Yeah? What’d you get up to last night?” He cheekily said with a shit eating grin. Trent’s tiredness slipped away for a moment as he fell into a smug laugh.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re very funny, T, but yes I am exhausted from last night. I’m pretty sure I fell just a little more in love with you, think it took a lot out of me.” You pinched your thumb and pointer finger together showing a small amount of space as you giggled

“Aw baby, that was sweet. I probably did a little too if that’s even possible at this point but I was just thinking it was probably from how well I fucked you last night.” He chuckled to himself. You could feel his chest vibrate from the noise. Both of your faces pulled into big, big smiles. You tapped at his arm around you playfully.

“You're such a boy!” You squeaked. “That could’ve been a nice moment but nooo.” You giggled feigning an annoyance you didn’t feel. He squeezed you a little tighter before pressing a kiss onto your lips and giving you a half assed ‘I’m sorry’” you laid in the fluffy luxurious hotel bedding for what felt like ages just exchanging kisses and mushy feelings in between comfortable silences as he played with your fingers before finally speaking again.

“We have to get going, sweetheart.” He attempted to sit up some but you just clung to him tighter.

“Are you sure you couldn’t just transfer to PSG?” You teased getting more comfortable in the bed. “We could live right here. This could be our bed. We could learn French.” Your words were muddied in giggles from the silly joke you were making. As you spoke you just snuggled further into his embrace.

“Yeah… okay baby” he yessed your plan with a faint laugh. You obviously weren’t serious, he knew that, you just were so comfortable in the moment that you didn’t want to leave the cozy place you were currently in.

“I like it right here” you whined a little, throwing puppy eyes at him. You liked holding onto him. He was so sweet to even make last night possible you didn’t want to have to make the move to end it. You rubbed your hands over his warm skin. Your hands sliding up his neck before reaching his chin to scratch at his facial hair.

“I love you right here but I’ll love you just the same when we get back home, baby.” He kissed the top of your head before he hummed in contentment as your nails tickled him. You pouted about your stay coming to an end but also just how sweet he always was. You eventually peeled your magnetized bodies off one another’s and began to pack up and shower. Your body stuck to his again wet and you laughed trying to share one towel in order to stay closer drying each other off poorly. You detached less dry than you should’ve been by this point. “Just to really rub it in that we’re going home, Tyler said people are making a big deal out of my little detour after the match. Just a heads up.” Trent said coming up behind you giving you a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Your face dropped. You were in your own world inside that hotel room but outside, it was definitely still spinning in its usual order. “I don’t like when I’m the culprit of the media covering some sort of escapade of yours.” You said guilty, moving back into the main room to get dressed.

“Well, I, in fact, do like when you are.” He kissed your lips. “The only things I want happening in my life are the ones with you.” You smiled faintly but you didn’t say much of anything else as you helped fold and fill his duffle bag. You got to run out around the city briefly grabbing macaroons you liked and hitting a few stores before you had to head to the airport but it was an incredibly quick turn around.

You boarded the plane back to England, a short flight nestled in his arms. You both were in sweat sets, yours from Sporty & Rich, his from Aime Leon Dore. With his hood up, Trent rested his head against the window while you laid on him. For a fast flight you were incredibly comfortable. It was going to be the last fleeting moment together before Trent and by proxy, you, returned to regularly scheduled programming of matches and mayhem.

As anticipated and warned by Tyler, your moment alone shattered the second camera’s flashes filled your line of sight. You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the lights. Trent held your hand tighter as he walked through airport arrivals. Security followed next to you. This would never be normal. As the chaos rushed around you with inquiries about Trent’s commitment to the team for ‘taking a day off’ which by the way… was approved by the club, just saying! You squeezed his hand more. Despite feeling more than uneasy he had a way of stilling the madness with a simple glance to you.

“Okay, baby?” He whispered. You nodded with a faux smile. Security opened the door to the car waiting for you. Trent stayed at the car door with them holding it open and helping you in. Your hand grazed his waist as a silent thank you before you slid in. He quickly followed you into the blacked out vehicle. Even after the door shut and it was quiet the noise of the shutters still rang in your ears. While you were hounded as people scolded Trent’s travels, you never felt more secure in his arms tucked into the backseat.

You drove off from the airport towards home and you watched the landscape blur out the car window on the motorway. You laid back into him, your legs stretched across the seat, feet up, and your head thrown to the side against his chest as his hands aimlessly grazed over you. Trent’s hand moved to grip your leg right above your knee. He squeezed it teasingly. You looked up at him and the honey hue of his eyes reflecting the sun filled your stomach with butterflies and a sliver of hope.

“I have a good feeling about next year” he winked looking at you with a sincerity no one could ever make you believe other than him.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 29 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader #taa66

[swann-song]

daydreaming - part four

summary: you agreed to go on a date with pierre chavanges. he needs to make a good impression.

pierre sneaked a glance at you over the menu, this is the first chance he’s had to actually look at you. on the car ride over, you’d spent the whole time changing the music in the car, you were taking it very seriously and he hadn’t wanted to interrupt. at le cheval blanc you were sat outside with a lush garden. the warm night was filled with the sounds of summer and the gentle conversation of the tables around you created a good atmosphere.

he ran his fingers through his hair again, it has grown longer and tickles his brows, he had rushed out the door evading his mothers questions. he had spent the whole day preparing mentally and physically, he had changed his outfit four times, settling on a black button up and trousers. pierre has been on enough awkward first dates to keep his expectations low. unfortunately, the stakes feel high and he’s apprehensive, he’s never wanted to connect with someone as badly as he does with you but he doesn’t know how. how do you let someone know you want to be important to them.

he watched you study the menu, you poke your cheek as you decided and mutter to yourself. "i’m getting the sea bass then" you said with a finality. you looked up at pierre and his heart skipped a beat.

your lips were a blurry red and inviting. he loved the way your eyes sparkled at him, smiling at him sweetly every time your eyes met. he was thoroughly enjoying that. your hair cascades around you and frames your face, reminds him of the romantic impressionists. you were wearing a short black dress, tight on your waist but flowing around your thighs. the sleeves are long and elegant, sliding up your arm when you move. he likes watching your fingers reach for the wine, likes the way a sip stains your lips a little.

the conversation flowed, pierre had been worried but he had an endless list of questions. you answered him freely, stories from your childhood, your friends and work. he liked the way you spoke to him intimately, like you’d known him for years. he found you funny, be it your stories from university or the witty remarks you’d use to punctuate your sentences. he could tell you read a lot, you spoke vividly and he was engaged. he even surprised himself and offered his own jokes, not wanting burden you with all of the nights entertainment. he liked the way you laughed with him, the sound sweet and you made yourself breathless.

"and then she threw the mic across the room" you were telling him about your friends birthday party. it had been at jd's bar and he remembered his own friend telling him the story. "well it’s nice to hear your point of view, jd had said it was just because you were all wasted", "his karaoke didn’t have abba" you interject, pierre nodded, "right, so now i see it, in a way, it was his own fault". you both burst into giggles and the waiter turns annoyed.

three hours had already passed, the candles dwindling, the other patrons had left. pierre was shocked at the time, it was going too fast. he hadn’t felt like this before, no rush to leave. he already knew all your favourite films, books, music, your childhood friends and pets, core memories and your first driving lesson fail. he knew your dreams for the future, your current frustrations with life. it didn’t feel like enough, he felt greedy, wanting to know more and more about you.

you were the most interesting person he’d met, when he would ask question after question, you asked him to stop the interrogation. pierre couldn’t help it, he offered himself as well. he told you his own stories. his many endless nights making trouble with his friends. the two years he’d travelled to italy before he took over the farm. the pressures of a lineage farm on his shoulder, the endless repetition. the silence after the dessert was comfortable but pierre’s heart was still beating fast. your cheeks were flushed, your neck tipped back, taking in the night stars.

you suddenly sat up straight, looking into pierre’s eyes earnestly. "you know pierre, i fucking love cows" pierre covered his face with his hand, shaking it. trying to suppress his laughter. "i really do pierre" you had reached across the table, your fingers curling around his wrist. "now do you think i could get one.. i could get one of yours you know, just a baby, i just need a baby one… you could help me, i’ve read a few books already and you know basically everyone else has one, you could give me one"

pierre was certain you were too tipsy now, he nodded at you. he paid for dinner and held your hand in one hand, your coat in the other. he slowly guided you to his car as you were trying to convince him he should sell you one of his new calf. in the car, you were silent, looking out into the fields, you sometimes made a comment about the song playing on the radio. as he drove up to your apartment complex, pierre was feeling nervous. the date had gone well, in his eyes it did. pierre knew himself, he recognised it, he was already half in love. that’s why he was feeling on edge, he needed to know how you felt. he thought he knew, from the way you flushed at his compliments and stared at his lips but he needed to know for certain.

"i really enjoyed tonight" you were speaking almost timidly. pierre was glad you did, he turned to you and smiled softly. "so did i, i really want to see you again" pierre watched you stare straight ahead, he took in your profile. your perfume filled his car, he was hoping it would linger when your gone. you took a minute, pierre didn’t want to rush you. you nodded and met his eyes.

your hand rose to his jaw, your soft fingers stroke up to his cheek and pierre fell into it. your eyes sparkle up at him, lips parted and breath laboured. pierre’s hand slides up your arm and meets yours, he tangles your fingers with his and pulls them away. he moves closer to you, you sit back, a puzzled look. pierre’s hand moves to the nape of your neck, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. he pulls your head to his and wraps his other arm around you. his lips meet yours. your lips are so soft, sweet from the wine, he falls in deep. he feels your heart beating fast against his own, no doubt beating just as fast. tilting your head back a little, his tongue finds yours, and he hold you tighter. his hands tangle in your silky hair, he strokes your back. pierre feels overwhelmed, by your taste, the scent of you and your body in his arms, so giving and warm.

your arms move up from his chest to dangle from his shoulders. your hanging onto each kiss and pierre hears a soft moan from you. he pulls away quick. how could you make that noise against his lips. he needed to be reasonable since your not being so. your eyes look up at him big, a little whiplashed from the sudden lack of warmth. you arms are still around his neck and you softly purr his name. pierre stroked your arm, pulling your sleeve back and plants gentle kisses on it. he tries to ignore your pout and how hard it’s making him. your eyes narrow at him and he pulls your arms off him while he intertwines your fingers in his. pierre avoids looking at you in an attempt to suppress that icy sharp desire he feels.

"it’s getting late, i’ll call you tomorrow okay" pierre kisses the tips of your fingers in apology, keeping his head low and feels you relax beside him. you kiss his cheek quickly and jump out, closing the door you look at him through the open window. "good night pierre, remember you owe me a calf". pierre feels his heart flipping and wishes you a good night but not making any promises.

daydreaming masterlist

#swann arlaud #pierre chavanges #petit paysan #bloody milk #fanfic #y/n

[wardenparker]

Summer Rose

Professor!Santiago Garcia x female OC Co-written with @julesonrecord

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: OC is named (Daphne Antonelli) but has minimal physical description. Age gap 10+ years. Both parties are consenting adults. Alcohol consumption, mutual pining, professor/student, oral sex (f and m receiving), 69, sexy mythology references, vaginal sex, protected sex, fingernails/scratching, a bit of biting. Summary: Daphne is having an absolutely terrible day and has missed office hours to turn in her final paper to Professor Garcia. When she turns up on his doorstep to turn in her assignment, the professor she's been crushing on for ages offers her a supportive ear -- and help relaxing. Notes: A little collaboration between myself and my beloved Jules featuring a character we've working on (Daphne) and today's wet daydream of college professor!Santiago. Honestly this is just a bit of porn with the barest thread of a plot, and we're not sorry. Also, just a disclaimer that I have no clue how one finishes a masters degree, but it doesn't matter. We're here for the porn, not the threadbare plot.

Twilight is beautiful on campus. Santiago has always thought so, even before he had the letters after his last name that demarcate him as faculty. He enjoys the blush of the sun fading, the purple of the dusky sky fading to blue-black, indigo, then glitter with starlight.

He likes walking home after class this way; a quiet moment to ease his mind after lectures and before grading. This late in the semester, it will be one of the last walks before the summer term. As he passes through the quiet neighborhood and climbs his front doors, he glances up, spies Orion's Belt in the heavens. He thinks about introducing the story next time he holds his Mythology and Myth-Making class. Did he include it this year? He can't remember. He'd been... distracted.

His phone pings with a text as he sets his messenger bag on the dining room table and undoes his cuff buttons, rolling them up. Too damn hot for this, damn dress code rules... He peers down at the message, and notes it's from an unknown number. His students know to text him if they have an emergency, so he opens it straight away.

Hi, Professor Garcia. I know that it's after office hours, but the fact is...I missed office hours altogether. Would it be an inconvenience to call you and explain? Otherwise I'm not sure how to get my final paper to you. Thanks, Daphne Antonelli (Mythology and Myth-Making)

Santiago lifts an eyebrow. He recognizes the name. Oh yes, he recognizes it. In fact, he's called it to mind more often than is probably appropriate, along with the image of a very beautiful graduate student with a focused stare and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. She was an attentive student, responsive, ready to answer questions but never one to hog the spotlight, making insightful, empathetic, and razor-sharp questions. It was unlike her to miss anything, never mind not visit office hours. They'd spent many such visits over the semester. Short. Professional. Of course.

So why does his heart rate increase, his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he thoughtfully taps the phone screen, spelling out a careful, professional text?

Hi Daphne. As this is your final paper, I would really like to have it ASAP as I am required to submit grades on Monday. Why don't you swing by my home to drop it off?

Feel free to call, he types, then deletes before sending. He wanted to hear her voice. He did need that paper. No reason why he couldn't do both in person. No reason at all.

He had had his graduate students over for a spring dinner after midterms so they know how and where to find him. The bonfire that night had lasted for ages, as tipsy grad students who were feeling feisty with a full meal in their bellies debated the cultural implications of different myth origins and the similarities of some creation myths that they had just been discussing in class. Daphne had been amongst the students that night, animatedly defending her points with unmatched ferocity that was impossible to ignore.

The text that comes through a few moments later takes a while for her to decide on, judging from the continuously undulating bubbles indicating how long she was typing compared to the brevity of the eventual message.

Thank you for understanding. I'll be over shortly so the rest of your night isn't interrupted.

Satisfaction. He tosses the phone down and leans over the table with a slow sigh, taking a look around the room. The same old familiar wall-to-wall bookshelves line the tidy bungalow. The same pendant lamps up, tacky, that he'd meant to change when he bought this place... four years ago. His degrees might be hung in his office upstairs, his clothes are here, he shaves here, but who does he have here, really? Nobody. Warm sheets for a night and then no one. Nothing. There was no reason to bother, really—

And then Daphne. Daphne with her slowly blossoming smile that melted from shy to beaming when he said hello to her on campus. Daphne with her neat notes in the margins, Daphne with the legs that had so often been tucked primly next to his as they leaned over a book or paper together, never touching but so close, close enough so that he could smell her perfume: cinnamon, orchid, incense.

"Fuck," he mutters to the table. There's no way of hiding from himself, not really. He pushes off the wood and stalks to the kitchen for a beer. He cracks it open efficiently and takes a long swallow, Adam's apple bobbing. He wants her. That much is clear. How could he not? She was intelligent, fierce, gorgeous. He could fool himself all he wanted, her coming here was a bad idea. It's been a long semester, keeping her close but not too close.

But, he realizes with a jolt, she's about to graduate. This is her final, his course is over. He is... well, technically by Monday, no longer her professor.

"Fuck," he mutters again, this time to a magnet of a catfish, his only catch from a weekend out fishing with the guys.

It's twenty minutes later precisely when his doorbell rings. There was no sound of a car outside on the street or dramatic slam of a door, but when he opens the door there is a bicycle leaning against his front gate and a frazzled looking student on his front step.

"Hi, Professor." Daphne stands on his step with a mix of anxiety and embarrassment on her face and she digs into her bag right away to pull out a manila folder with his class name and number written on it alongside her name. "I'm so sorry about this. I know it's technically late and that you'll have to dock points for that. It's completely my fault."

"Hey, hey, easy." He lifts a palm and lowers it soothingly, taking the manila folder gently. "There's no need to be sorry, accidents happen." Then, as he knew he would, he asked, "Would you like to come in? It's the end of semester, though. Maybe you have a party you'd rather get to?" He smiles fondly, bumping his shoulder against the doorframe and folding his arms to show off his tanned forearms, shirt sleeves straining slightly.

Yeah, he's still got moves. And he wants to show them off. To Daphne. Who is no longer his student. Who's staring up at him with the anguish slowly sliding from her face. He wants to remove it, stroke her stress away with his thumb, ease it out of her slowly—

Fuck, he's screwed.

"I'm not really – I mean, I haven't –" She doesn't get invited to parties, is what she's trying to say. Not that she doesn't enjoy parties, because she does. She absolutely does. The night they spent here at his house just sitting around the fire talking and sharing a meal was one of her favorite graduate school memories. But she isn't great at socializing with the other students in her program, she's found. There is something a little odd about Daphne, and it has reverberated through her life to keep her just a little on the outside of normal.

Maybe that's why she nods, accepting the invitation with swallowed thanks, and steps inside her professor's house. Her professor who has more than a decade on her in terms of age but has never held his years of experience or knowledge over her head. If they were colleagues, she might have even considered him a friend. As it is, being his student, she's stuck in a sort of limbo with a useless crush and fond memories. "I've had kind of a crazy day," she admits sheepishly. "Even if I had been invited to any of the parties on campus, I don't think I would be going."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Daph," he says, with real sympathy. "Is everything all right? I just opened a beer, would you like anything?"

"A pipe burst at my place and my landlord is claiming I'm liable, then my computer crashed in the middle of doing one last edit on your term paper and the tech office gave me grief, it's just...it's been a long day." She barely even nodded in agreement that a drink would be a huge relief, but he is immediately retreating to his refrigerator to grab her a beer. "Oh, and my summer plans fell through today." Her shoulders sag, the stress of the day dragging her down and determined to keep her there. "I'm just lucky I got up to take a shower first thing this morning or else the day would've been even worse."

"Oh, Daph, that's a rotten one," he says, placing the opened beer on the coffee table and settling his hands on her shoulders. "What happened to your summer? Surely you're going off to some incredible internship, you're more than qualified." And she is. He'd have recommended her to any program she wanted, and had, in fact, written her a letter of recommendation earlier in the year. "You know I'm not going to dock points, right?" he asks more quietly. "None of today was your fault, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. That shouldn't burrow into her chest and bloom into warmth like it does, and Daphne's eyes drop to the floor immediately to carefully focus on the toes of her boots instead of looking him in the face. That's your professor. Don't be creepy. "I had that internship lined up in London with the publishing company but they pulled the rug out from under me." She shrugs, feeling more vulnerable in the moment than she wants to admit. "Apparently the CFO's kid decided all of a sudden that he wants to be an author, so they rescinded my offer. He's going to get it instead."

His chest pangs. He hates that there is nothing he can do to fix this for her -- because she's right. That's the cherry on top of an extremely long day, and all he can do then is what feels most natural, which is to lift her chin up with the crook of his finger, his voice soft, gentle. "Hey."

When she meets his gaze, he watches them flicker slightly, scanning his face as he drinks in hers. Her eyes are so pretty. Like fresh honey dripped from a spoon.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says again, and means it. "You deserve that spot, but you'll find something better, okay? Hey, look at me." She had turned away slightly, embarrassed or perhaps made shy by his praise, but her eyes fix on him again, golden and fringed with thick lashes. "I promise, you will. There's lots of ways into this world, and you're too talented not to break in. Okay? You want to sit down, tell me about it?" His fingers clasp around her delicate elbow, ready to guide her to the couch.

"There's not a lot more to tell, to be honest." Two people with two beers steer almost mechanically toward the couch, and Daphne finds herself being seated on his plush leather sectional just before he sits down beside her. This spring has been chilly and he still has a throw blanket out, which he pulls close to them as if to have it at the ready. "No summer in London means I'm going to have to either go back home and figure out my next step there, or find a new place here and do the same. Because I'm sure as hell not staying in the place I'm in now. As if the landlord weren't bad enough, now the plumbing is going."

"Huh." He trails his arm over the back of the sofa, sipping his beer thoughtfully. "What kinda guy is this-" Asshole, he wants to say, but quells it, "Fellow? Any chance he'll back off? Perhaps once he... calms down, he can be reasoned with." He's approaching the boundary of reason himself. He can see it, taste it, the drip of something sweet down his throat. "Beautiful woman like you? You could convince a man of anything."

The pffft sound that comes out of her mouth goes with a wave of her hand, but she does accept a sip of the beer that he's brought her with a grateful sigh. "The apartment is a piece of shit anyway, if I'm honest. I hate it there. It's just that it's affordable." There's a moment's pause where Daphne's eyes widen in panic and she deflates again with a groan. "I already put in my notice at my job, oh my god."

"Hey, hey, Daphne." He puts his beer down and reaches for her, wrapping one arm around her waist, cupping her flushed cheek with the other hand. "C'mon, it's going to be okay, I promise, but for right now, I need you to relax, okay? Can you do that for me, bebita?" They're so close now, almost nose to nose. He's lost in her eyes again, but he can feel the burning heat of her little cheek in his palm.

She had been so sure she was going to start crying instantly with that realization, but two searing hot hands on her skin steady her. His touch is grounding, pulling her away from the edge of panic and drawing her into his aura so effortlessly that she didn't even realize how close he was until she felt his breath on her skin. "O—okay—" He can't know that the thing keeping her from having a complete panic attack on his couch right now is the fact that all the blood in her body has rushed to her aching clit, but damned if it isn't working. Daphne nods vaguely, trying to keep her head from swimming, but all she feels is his hands on her and the way his coffee brown eyes have turned to oceans in front of her. "Okay," she repeats softly.

"Okay?" Santiago nods, his breath coming a little fast. "I'll help you. I'll help you relax, sweetheart. You tell me to stop any time, okay?" He leans closer so slowly, their breaths mingling. He can almost count her eyelashes. Her nose is sweet and soft as it brushes his, but it's nothing compared to her plush lips. They seal against his and he feels the world fall out from under him. Something deep and ravenous unlocks and spills out all over his inside. He barely chokes down a groan.

There is no doubt that this is the most surreal moment of Daphne's life, and it isn't as though she hasn't been in some weird situations before. It's a miracle that she managed to get her beer bottle onto the nearby coffee table without spilling or knocking anything over, but she needs her hands for this. For a year and a half she's been working on a master's degree and avoiding too much contact with the one professor who makes her mind fog up and her daydreams wander, until finally she had landed in his classroom.

And now on his couch.

Kissing him.

If it were anything besides the most surreal moment of her life, she might have jumped backward or at the very least, pulled away. But Daphne has imagined kissing Santiago Garcia far too many times to do anything but sigh in response and open up for him like a summer rose.

"It's okay," he repeats soothingly between kisses: to himself, to her, to the waiting tension in the room. "I've got you, cariño. I've got you now, there you go, so sweet for me. So pretty. Beautiful, smart girl." He deepens the kiss, tasting her lips slowly, reverently, one hand sliding slowly down her soft sweater to rest on her waist and squeeze gently. He brushes his thumb over the soft material and then flicks it open, wanting closeness, to drag his palm up her thin blouse, wide and slow across her back.

The sound that bubbles out of her is a plaintive moan, unsure but wanting, and one of her hands grasps for steadiness on his arm even as the other instinctively sinks into his curls to keep him close. The battle is want versus wisdom, and it takes longer than she's proud of for Daphne to drag her lips from his and pant for a breath that still has no prayer of clearing her head.

"But." The fog in her mind has settled thick and heavy like the arousal in her core, and even as she's trying to straighten herself out she's still clinging to him with digging fingers and sharp nails. "You'll get fired," she manages to breathe out a few seconds later. Her only real protest being that she doesn't want him to get in trouble over a whim – which is surely all this is to him.

"Baby, no, no," he shakes his head, almost laughing with relief that that is her only concern. "No, you're graduating. I'm not your teacher any more. You handed in your paper. We can finally do what I – what I've been—" Shit. This is going to sound so bad. "What I've been thinking about since I met you," he admits.

Santi leans his forehead against hers, sighing. "I'm sorry. It's so inappropriate, but it's true. I've been waiting so long to kiss you, baby girl. Let me kiss you." He brushes his fingers over her knee, lifting her skirt just a little. "Let me make you feel so good, my little nymph. Do you even know how long you've been haunting me?" His mouth brushes her again, gently, over the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, the flutter of her pulse, which smells delicious, deep and floral, her scent.

His cock aches against his zipper.

"Fuck." This time Daphne groans, sinking further into the couch, and feels herself giggle softly in disbelief more than she's actually aware of making the sound herself. "You've been haunted?" She challenges, eyes burning with courage now that she's heard his confession. Heard him beg. Did he really just beg for her? "Do you know how long I put off taking your class because I didn't know if I could even concentrate around you?"

Using the opportunity of her gently reclining body, Santiago leans in for the catch. "I never could," he murmurs into the hollow of her throat, his hands sweeping her skirt up, revealing her pretty legs, and god her thighs, so plush and luscious in his hands. He takes a moment to stroke there, brush the hem of her panties with his thumbs. "Never. You came in with Eros and made me Apollo." One thumb slips gently under the gusset of her panties. "Are you running, little nymph, hm?"

"Fuck—I—no, I—I don't even think my legs work now," she huffs, all at once tense as a bowstring with desire and measurably more relaxed as the reality of the man she's wanted forever finally touching her exactly where she wants him.

Well, not exactly. But it's not going to take long to get there at the rate they're going.

"What should I..." Daphne's head falls back on the sofa cushion as his thumb strokes her slit and she moans. "Santiago is a lot of syllables to moan."

"Santi. You can call me Santi from now on," he murmurs, removing his thumb from her panties only to twist the thin white cotton things, Jesus, so fucking wet, around his fingers and slide them down, down. He tosses them to the side and shucks off her high heeled boots while he's there, his eyes locked on where she glistens for him, needs him. "But you can call out any god you want to, bonita." He flicks his gaze to hers and smirks. "Show me how much you were paying attention, yeah?"

If she can even remember a single name from his class at this point she'll be shocked, and the cool air of his house on her overheated cunt is enough to have her squirming instinctively underneath him. Her brain has pretty much given up the ghost already, overstimulated in the very best way possible far before the rest of her body feels the same. Although she has a feeling that it will get there. "Santi..." Trying it out, there is a sweetness on her tongue and heaviness in her core that really is just a whine waiting to break free. Daphne's hands have found their way to his shirt front, fumbling to free the buttons even while she's nearly shaking with desire. "If you get to touch me, I want to touch you, too."

His lips find hers again, almost impatient to taste her again. "You can touch me, I want you to," he mutters against her lips, lifting her blouse hem from her skirt as she takes care of his buttons. Santiago doesn't pause, doesn't make it easy for her or for himself, drowning himself in the touch of her, the sweet little noises emanating from her throat, the ones taking a running leap on the way to begging for everything he's ready to give. He lifts her shirt over her head and begins tugging down her skirt an inch at a time, his fingers dragging slowly over her hips, her now bare legs.

Nothing is exactly torn away, not specifically, but the pile of clothing that collects beside his living room sofa accumulates quickly and haphazardly — shirts and sweaters and everything else discarded blindly as they drown in kissing each other and swallowing those moans that make their way to the surface over and over again. With that building freedom Daphne finds a buried courage — not that she is a timid lover by any means, but there is an eagerness below the surface here that she hasn’t felt in so long. When the only thing left between them is the flimsy pair of boxers that do nothing to disguise how achingly hard he is, Daph bites down on his bottom lip to pull a groan out of him and soothes it away by sucking on the same spot as her fingers slip under the waistband of his last remaining piece of clothing.

"Fuck," he hisses, hips jumping forward so that the weeping tip of his cock brushes against her hand and he groans. He sits up straighter, caught in a web, aching to touch her – at least take his boxers off, fuck – but loathe to move away from her curious little hand. He settles for sitting up on his knees, staring at the place she's touching him, watching her explore him as though in a trance.

Taking advantage of the momentary shift, Daphne sits up along with him and nudges Santi backward so that he is on his back now instead of her. His curls are mussed and his eyes are so black with lust that he looks positively debauched before she’s even had a chance to touch him very much. Once he’s on his back, though, Daphne hooks her thumbs in his boxers and peels them away, groaning at the sight of him. Harder than diamonds and leaking precum like an eager teenager, a sly smirk rides across her face knowing she did that to him. “I want to suck your cock,” she admits, gaze flickering between his length and his blackened eyes. “You have no idea how many hours I’ve spent imagining sucking your cock under that desk in your office.”

Santiago closes his eyes a moment. Is he fucking dreaming? Or is his most fucked fantasy coming true before his eyes?

"Probably almost as many as what I've spent imagining what that wet little pussy tastes like." His voice is a low rasp, but he pulls himself together enough to halt her hand on his throbbing dick. His fingers squeeze around hers, gliding over the rigid shaft slowly, with control. His breath fans over her forehead. "You want this, baby? Hm? Gonna have to give me something in return. Come here," he urges, a low purr, her very own siren. "Come here and give me a little taste, cariño."

“Even Kama had to worship a lover in order to find his release,” Daph breathes, having spent an entire semester doodling images of the Hindu love god’s sugarcane bow and bird companions in her notes while thinking of all the various ways her professor could be worshipped.

"Kama was burnt alive by Shiva, sweetheart, and I don't plan on doing any different to you. Come here, that's it." Santi helps Daphne turn in his lap, both of them facing the wall. He guides her hips over his face as he lies back on the couch. Thank fuck it was big enough, for this and more, and then her perfect pussy is hovering over his face, tantalizing him. At heart? Santiago likes torturing himself, loves the thrill of giving into pleasure. Perhaps that too, is why he waited so long to take this girl into his bed. Perhaps that's why he's slow and sure as he spreads her lips, flattens his tongue, and tastes her indulgently, from clit to hole.

Daphne's momentary flash of composure is gone again as soon as he tastes her. Her legs shake on either side of his head, thighs pressed to his ears so her moans are muffled but it isn't on purpose. It's just been so long since she had a man between her legs who knew what the fuck he was doing that just having her clit noticed is a vast improvement. Daphne's body sags momentarily before she is shifting all her weight to one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock to stroke his base with the pressure that he showed her – the pressure he likes – while she takes as much of him as she can into her mouth.

When he moans it's with a growl into her pussy she can feel vibrate all the way up through her lungs.

She's not fucking sitting, and he knows it's because she's still, however minutely now that her moans are ringing sweet and clear across his living room, in her head instead of fully in her perfect body the way he wants. Licking up her slick almost lazily, he drags his nails lightly up the outsides of her thighs before firmly catching her hips in hand and pressing her into his waiting mouth, his evening stubble scraping across her folds. Only then does he give her a real reason to moan, encouraging her to grind while his laps at her clit with his tongue, filling his hands with all the gorgeous skin he can reach.

"Sit," he grunts, "Fuck, baby, I wanna to go to the field of fucking reeds with this pussy on my face, come on, you can do it, give it to me."

Come on, carińo, I know you can come for me, such a good fucking girl, he thinks, his brain a hazy lightning storm at the sensation of her hot throat squeezing around him as she swallows. Fuck, he could let her do this all night, but he's hungry for her pleasure and he's so close, he can taste it. Santiago lifts her hips with a final loud suck and trails a finger around her slit, teasing, almost pressing, but only just, his thumb running circles around her clit. With a deep breath he lifts his mouth, slips his tongue and a single finger inside, fucking into her with slow, measured movements.

The overwhelming pleasure of having more than just the tip of his tongue inside her pussy has Daphne moaning so earnestly that she pulls off of him cock with a lurid pop. "Dammit—I—fuck, I'm going to cum—Santi, baby, oh my f—" The shaking of her legs and the coil in her core twist down on each other so her thighs tighten and he breathes into her like he's going to devour her whole as she falls apart at the seams.

Oh yes. He really likes hearing her moaning that, but not more than the way she gives in as her orgasm rocks through her, grinding her hips down, into his waiting, eager mouth, helping her ride him through it until the aftershocks ease. His voice is barely a scrape when he lifts her up, his aching cock swinging between his legs as he presses forward, eager for her mouth. "Did so good, baby, such a good girl for me. I need to fuck you. Need to fuck you, baby. How do you want it?"

"Any way." Daphne gasps, trying to wrap her head around any kind of how that's more artful than just sinking down on him right here and now. When she does wrap her head around it, though, she groans in a less ethereal tone. "Let me grab a condom." Like any sensible, sexually active college girl, she carries one in her regular purse. Emergency cock wrap, if you will. She just never thought she'd actually need it.

"Wait, I got it." He scoots up a moment, digging into the small table beside the couch. From the drawer Santi draws out the foil pouch and rips it open, quickly rolling it on before turning his attention back on Daphne, who's watching him with drowned eyes, eyes deep and longing and still so lovely.

"Lie back, sweetheart. You ready for me?" He slowly glides the head over her silky wet folds, smearing her slick across his tip.

Deciding she absolutely does not need to know how many other girls have been fucked on this couch -- possibly at the end of their own courses -- Daph pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss him fiercely. Tonight is not to be wasted. Tonight is to be a fantastic memory. "I'm ready." Her nails drag down the base of his scalp, having caught a near purr from him earlier when she did the same. "I want you to fuck me, Santi."

Almost before his name is out of her mouth, he's pushing inside her with a low rumble, his head falling back slightly into her hands. Her nails scrape sensation over his scalp and down his spine, and her cunt is licking flames over him, so warm and perfect he almost comes right fucking there, but halts, breathing damp against her lips, his teeth nipping her lip possessively.

They hold like that, frozen together in the heat of the moment as he regains his composure and she adjusts to the stretch and fill and thickness of his cock inside her. The only movement, in this long moment of coming together, is the languid slide and tangle of their tongues together as they drown in the intimacy of feverish kisses.

Gradually, Santi comes down enough to get restless, eager again. He nips and bites down over her jaw and descends on her throat, sucking a mark low on her collarbone as his hands pay some long overdue attention to her pretty, heaving tits. Mine.

When the mark on her neck is soothed with his tongue, he sits up slowly, his eyes a glittering black, his lips parted. He looks like he's about to devour her. He takes one of her calves in his hand, eyes never leaving hers, tipping her knee up towards her head and then out, spread wide for him. He grips her ankle in a warm hand. Then, with a grunt, he's pulling back and pitching forward hard enough for their skin to clap obscenely, fast enough to make them both soon begin to tremble.

The position that he's in has him almost entirely out of her reach, just close even to graze her nails over his chest as he thrusts into her at a pace frantic enough to make them both pant and heave. Her back arches off the couch with a keen and her hands grapple with the couch cushions for purchase to hold on tight as Santi fucks her so deeply and insistently that she can practically feel him all the way up in her throat.

"Gripping me so fuckin' tight, baby, Jesus," he says through his teeth, his jaw tight, streaks of pleasure raking down his chest with her sharp, clinging nails. Keeping his relentless pace, he bends forward, pushing her thigh up, testing her limit. When he's low enough he seizes her mouth with his, grinding deep.

"One more for me, pretty girl, one more," he whispers huskily, his other hand skimming down her body to rub at her clit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, so good baby, oh my fucking god—" Something in Daphne's mind short circuits, and the rambling begins in earnest the higher and higher she climbs toward a second orgasm. Tripping over her own tongue and throwing her hands up over her head as he slams into her so hard that either they are moving up the length of the sofa or the entire sofa is moving, Daph is completely lost in her pleasure. That volcano of pleasure building in her core is damn near ready to explode and the only thing she wants more than to erupt is to take him with her.

The second her expression breaks and she cries out for him, he's gone. He thinks he's done even before she clamps down on his cock like a goddamned vice, ripping his orgasm from him in a half dozen hard but increasingly languid strokes.

His upper body grows heavy, and with a groan he grinds in deeply just once more – never mind why – and leans his forehead on her soft breast, pulling out of her with a sigh. His entire body is basking, floating. If she puts her hands in his hair again he might even fall asleep.

There's a moment of quiet as he ties off and disposes of the condom, and for a split-second Santi disappears around a corner but he comes back with a warm, damp kitchen cloth to clean them both up with before curling back around her on the couch. "Goddamn," she huffs, giggling softly to herself as his arms come around her.

"Tell me about it," he says sleepily, flipping the throw blanket over the two of them as they settle, kiss, explore lazily what before had been greedily consumed. "Still not sure I'm not dreaming," he says, only half-joking, tracing her lips with a smile. "Did I really get so lucky?"

"I'm not sure how you're the starstruck one out of the two of us," Daphne teases, even though it's through a thin veil of honesty.

"Bonita, I've been increasingly starstruck all semester," he chuckles. "You have so much to look forward to. Shit, you're definitely going farther places than I am. I'm just happy to be here," he presses a kiss to her left tit, "To enjoy-" to her right nipple- "The satisfaction of being right." He kisses her forehead and studies her, his lids heavy. "Do you need anything before you fall asleep, baby girl? You wanna sleep here or in bed? I can't let you bike home this late, querida, so don't even try. Besides, you can shower here, my plumbing is fine." He smirks here, as if anticipating the swat he's earned himself.

"It's not that late." Daphne wrinkles her nose at herself. The protest was just good manners. She doesn't actually want to leave. She wants to wrap up in him and breathe in this comfort for as long as humanly possible. When he levels her with a disapproving look, Daph just ends up grinning. "Let's go to bed," she suggests, catching his lips as he drags them along her jaw. "And when I wake you up in the morning with my lips wrapped around your cock again, you'll be glad your back isn't sore."

The laugh bursts out of his chest with delight, easy and real. "All right, baby, all right, and what makes you think I won't beat you to it?" Santi pulls her to her feet, wrapping the soft blanket securely around her shoulders before guiding her upstairs with a hand at the small of her back.

No matter which one of them beats the other two it, they both know they aren't done. Whether it's a weekend, a week, a month, or even more. This night is just the beginning.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

#Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac character fanfiction #Oscar Isaac fanfic #Santiago Garcia #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #Santiago Garcia x OC #Santiago Garcia x female!OC #Triple Frontier #college professor au #professor!Santiago Garcia #pwp #really there is barely any plot here #and we're not sorry

[milkybellybites]

Pink Hope - Lee Anton

Pink Hope - Lee Anton

Pairing Anton x Reader Genre Fluff Warnings None! WC 675

Masterlist

Chapter One

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7:26AM

Look at me, I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree. And I feel like I’m clinging to a cloud, I can’t understand. I get misty just holding your hand.

Misty by Lesley Gore blares through my headphones as I read the twenty second chapter of my favourite book Little Women. Being a hopeless romantic means rereading the same fifteen romance books over and over again, obsessing over said books, and finally, daydreaming about feeling that kind of love. Everyone always says that certain kinds of love only exist in movies and books but I dont believe them. How can someone write about experiencing such amazing love without feeling such amazing love?

“Morning Sunshine, lets get going. We are going to be late.” Chaewon chirps as she bursts through my bedroom door, “Gosh Y/N, how many times have you read that old book.”

I roll my eyes as I take out my headphones and place the old tatty book in my bag, “Don’t knock it till you try is Chae. You never know, you might like romance books.”

“What? And be like you? Listening to lovey dovey music while reading your silly little romance books all day.” She laughs, standing up from my bed bumping shoulders with me, “I could never spend my days swooning over men who dont even exist.”

“Hey, Laurie and Amys’ love story is perfect. You cant deny it.” I replied as we make our way downstairs.

“Actually I can. I never read the book. Bye, Mom!” Chaewon waves a goodbye to my Mom as she opens the front door. Chaewon started calling my Mom “Mom” only one year into our friendship after she had a nightmare during a sleepover and my Mom comforted her. Ever since that night Chaewon has had two Moms.

“Bye, Mom! See you tonight.”

7:47AM

“Y’know, if you spent more time studying and less time listening to Mac DeMarco you wouldnt have a 62% in Japanese.” Chaewon exclaimed wildly as we exit the convenience store.

“Y’know, I dont think I’m going to take academic advice from someone with an average grade of 54%.” I laugh, cracking the lid of my iced coffee bottle.

“Hey, I am not taking any kind of sass from a person who reads for fun.” Chaewon grumbles at me.

“Maybe you should pick up a book. Try expanding your pea sized brain.”

We both laugh as we make our way into the school gate.

8:01AM

“Morning Eunseok.” I smile at my seat mate.

“Hey Y/N. How are you.” He questions.

“Good,” I say with a small smile while turning to get my books and pencil case out of my bag, “Did you have practice this morning?”

“Oh, yeah,” He replies, looking down at the rumpled up practice bag that is covered in dirt, “Lots of running this morning.”

I laugh quietly and turn back to my books but not before he could ask, “Is Chaewon here today?”

“Yeah,” I reply pointing a few rows ahead of us, “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” He quickly and quietly covers the creeping blush on his cheeks.

8:12AM

The classes quiet and comfortable atmosphere is abruptly disrupted by a group of teenage boys barging in hollering and whooping like a group of baboons. They are so not like the boys I read about.

“The gang is back together!” Sohee - the self-proclaimed “Ladies Man” - exclaims while sitting down in his seat.

“I am so happy you're back Anton.” A voice I recognise as Shotaro hollered from the back of the group.

Anton? I wonder who that is. I turn to look at Chaewon to find she is already looking at me. She gives me a confused look and I simply shrug my shoulders.

“Yeah guys, its pretty cool.” A small unrecognizable voice mumbles. 

The group of boys start to disperse out to there seats as the first bell rings, leaving a lone boy standing in the middle of the class, nervously grabbing his backpack straps.

Oh.

Oh. That was Anton.

#riize anton #riize #antonlee #anton #eunseok #riize x reader #riize imagines #shotaro #leeanton #anton x reader #kpop #anton x y/n #sohee

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Happy Ending | Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Note: This has been ghosting around in my head for some time now because of the song "Wallpaper" by Megan Cromwell. I noticed that whenever I don't have the pressure of a request in the back of my head for a story it's much easier to write. That's why I wrote this rather easily and quickly. I just wanted to post something again lol. So yeah, have some good ol' super dramatic angst. I'll be more active again hopefully.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Unrequited Love, Mentions of NSFW Stuff, Trauma, Reader has some Issues

Summary: Ghost wants a happy ending but not with you.

Word Count: ~2k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Call sign: Vigil

"We can't do this anymore."

You had known from the start that sleeping with him was a bad idea.

Generally, people advise you against sleeping with a co-worker. Because it makes things complicated. Even more complicated when you're both in the military.

Because technically you’re not allowed to fuck, your actions could be clouded by emotions, potentially risking not only your but the lives of your fellow operators as well. But that little clause in your contract was printed in that tiny font, and so you decided to ignore it.

It didn’t stop you from getting involved with your lieutenant. You were never a big fan of rules after all. Your rank as a sergeant after so many years of service in the military said enough about that.

But at the start, you truly believed that a physical relationship with him wouldn't cause trouble to you or anyone else.

You thought you had it under control. At least in the beginning.

Yes, you had been attracted to him since your first meeting when you had signed your contract with Taskforce 141. Mysterious men were your thing, and he embodied such a man with his skull mask.

So yeah, you did allow yourself to daydream about him, and have some dirty thoughts every once in a while. It wasn’t like you were the only one.

You were attracted to him and you knew he was attracted to you. It was mutual and actually pretty obvious.

You could feel his searing gaze on you just a few days after you had joined the taskforce; the way his eyes trailed up and down your body. The looks he gave you were charged with want.

But attraction doesn't necessarily lead to a romantic relationship, right?

He was a good-looking man in your opinion; tall, rugged, buff, with muscles and fat in the right places, just the way you liked it.

His face couldn't be considered conveniently attractive yet that made it so much better for you. The arch in his brows, the dark eyebags, the scars on his cheeks, his cheekbones. He was your type. And his rough appearance fuelled the fire in your lower stomach and your imagination.

What was the harm in joining him in the sheets and having a bit of fun? It wasn't like you loved him.

That’s what you had asked yourself.

It was much better to get rid of your pent-up frustration with him instead of a toy or a rare one-night stand when you were off-duty.  And damn, was he good in bed.

Rough, fast-paced, keen to try out every possible position, and not shy of pleasing you. You could've expected it. He was a man who wasn't afraid to get down and dirty. Dirt, blood, sweat, and other fluids... It didn't matter.

Short summary: It was pure ecstasy every time.

You two had lots of fun together in lots of different positions and locations, and that was all it was. Just some fun.

No strings attached, as you both declared at the start. Just fuckbuddies.

"I'm not a relationship kind of guy, Y/N" he had told you after you had spent your first time together.

You had snorted because shit, you weren't either. Both of you were too broken and bruised by the baggage of your pasts. Your traumas would probably weigh you both down in the long run. So you were fine with the line he had drawn between you.

It was okay. No emotions, no obligations, no lovey-dovey shit, just a means to an end.

Just a meeting in your room after a mission, a phone call on your days off, then a quick meet-up in a hotel. Just pleasure. Not love.

Until it wasn't just that anymore.

You two had settled into a routine where he would join you in your room late every other night.

After you had pleasured each other enough, he would leave soon after, and somehow - with time, you began to miss the warmth next to you on your bed.

The feeling came slowly creeping, and it took you by surprise.

You never asked him to stay; you didn't dare cross the line. To ask for a bit more affection. But you wished.

That he held you just a bit closer during the act. That he remained next to you just for a few more minutes after it. That he kissed your scars, your lips. That he touched you as if you were something, someone precious to him. Someone important.

Sure, you liked it when he treated you like an unbreakable object when his grip left bruises on your body - in a way, they satisfied your need for more. They marked you as his. But just for once, you wanted to be treasured by him. To feel that you meant something more to him.

You didn't know when your feelings for him had turned into a fluttering mess in your chest. He wasn't just a means to an end anymore. You valued him. Not just as a soldier who had your back. Not just as a friend. But as a man, a partner. A man you wanted close to you. For the rest of your life. No matter how long that would be.

Because Simon had done something no one else had been able to do before.

He made you wish. For a future. A future with him.

He made you wish to be better, to be a little less broken. To pick up the pieces that had once made you whole. You wanted to be better. A better version of yourself. For him. To have a chance to be truly happy. To get that fairy tale life others dream about – you once had dreamed about when you were younger, your shoulders lighter.

His attention made you excel, it made you stronger, faster, harder. You were just better when he was around. A better soldier, a better woman, a happier person.

And you thought, no, believed that he understood that. That he helped you to be better. That you needed him. Not just in your bed, but by your side. As your other half.

You both were people of few words, so you thought that through your actions, your eagerness during missions, and your gentle touches during your time together, you conveyed all these feelings. That he got it, saw how you felt about him.

But you never spelled it out. Never said; I've come to love you.

Just let these feelings simmer under your heart, hoping that one day he'd get what you felt for him.

"We can't do this anymore, Vigil."

You'd love to say that it came as a surprise when he, one day, called you to meet up and told you these words.

But you knew subconsciously. Felt it. Long before he actually said the words, they were coming.

His calls had been less frequent, his visits rarer, and to your confusion, his eyes began to look different whenever you saw him. They looked clearer, and happier.

Only after you saw him at the party after your successful operation in Chicago did you understand. He did look happier.

But not because of you.

And only then did you realize that your brain had played a trick on you. You were so consumed by your feelings for him that you didn't realize how big the rift between you two had gotten.

He laughed.

Simon Riley laughed heartily for the first time since you knew him. Not just one of his usual chuckles that he reserved for your or Soap's jokes.

No, true deep laughter that came from deep within his chest.

And all because of a joke that the woman next to him had told him.

You didn't know her; you had never even seen her face before. She was a complete stranger to you, and yet Ghost rested a hand on her hip as if she belonged to him. As if she was his fucking girlfriend.

Soap looked at you, then who you were staring at.

"That's Ghost's new lass, I heard. Can't believe that guy found someone before us, eh? Surprised me too, I tell ya."

His words were like poison, and you tasted bile in your mouth. So much made sense to you now.

"Why not? I thought you liked it?! I enjoy it every time."

"That's not relevant anymore. I'm just telling you, Y/N. This thing is done. I won't come here anymore."

"But-"

"Let's just forget this happened, alright?"

"...."

"Okay."

You hadn't even been able to argue. Or tell him your feelings.

After all, you were the one who said you could never be in a relationship with him or fall in love with him. It was pathetic to get back on your words and admit it in front of him.

So you just shut your mouth and accepted his words for the time being.

A tiny voice in your head whispered that you could tell him your feelings later when he calmed down a bit. When he started to miss you.

You knew the whole situation with Hassan was getting to him and the others, so you cut him some slack. You thought he would change his mind. Believed it. Blindly.

But now, here you were. Looking like a fool. Feeling like one. Being one.

And the thing was, you couldn't even say anything to him.

He was the one who made you happy. Who made you want to be better. Less traumatized, more whole.

You could see in his eyes that she was that to him. Not you.

So, what right did you have to intervene?

You wanted him to be happy, after all.

How could you deny him that? You both had gone through so much.

She seemed to be the complete opposite of you. She basically glowed in the room, her smile radiant, and her aura was light as if the world had blessed her to never know hardship.

Her frame was soft, and her skin unblemished, untainted by the cruelty and darkness that existed in the world.

You couldn't help but compare yourself to her.

Your cracks, the marks of your trauma, made themselves known through various scars on your body. Your hands were rough, covered with old blisters; so unlike hers, and you were all jagged and sharp edges, while she looked so cute and bubbly.

You could see her appeal, and it hurt to think that way, but in another world, in different circumstances, you could see her as your potential friend. She just had the appearance and aura of someone who people gravitated toward. A soothing soul.

In that sense, you could understand Ghost. Why he searched her side. But you fucking hated it.

As lovely as she seemed, right now in this bar; you couldn't help but despise her.

She took him from you.

A voice whispered in your head. The ugliness of that thought made you want to throw up, because didn't it prove that you weren't completely right in the head?

Ghost wasn't your property. He had his own free will, and just because she appeared didn't mean she stole him away.

After all, he never belonged to you anyway.

This was probably why Ghost didn't chose you, you thought to yourself. Your ugly jealousy and possessiveness were rearing their heads.

I wouldn't choose myself either.

You felt like crying, but you couldn't even do that.

You hadn't cried for years now, and although the pain in your heart was worse than any of the bullet wounds you had received during your career, not a single tear welled up in your eyes.

You were truly broken. And the man who could fix you wasn't at your side. He would never be.

You looked at the two of them once more. An ugly thing clawed at your chest, begging to get out. Your vision turned red. You clenched your fists.

You had to get out of here. Now.

"You okay, Vigil?" Soap asked next to you, noticing that you seemed a bit off.

"Yeah. I just- think I didn't turn my stove off. I got to go."

You mumbled before you turned around and hurried to the exit of the bar. Soap tried to protest, but you were out the door before he could even finish his sentence:

"But you just arrived- Damn... off she goes."

He sighed and looked towards that woman and Ghost. They made eye contact. As if Simon was already looking at him. Or you.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare II #modern warfare 2022 #simon riley #simon riley x fem reader #x fem reader #ghost x fem reader #ghost x female reader #ghost #soap #john soap mctavish #simon ghost riley #soldier reader #141!reader #special forces reader #fem reader #fanficsforheartandsouls

[malarign]

unfair

(meeting your internet best friend)

contains: crush!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: fluff, angst at the end with no comfort :) | tw! none (lmk if i missed anything) | wc: 1,3k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

You covered your whole body with soft bedsheets as you just finished your night skincare routine. Tomorrow is a really important day, you could even say the most important in your whole life. You were finally going to meet your best friend, Heeseung, whom you met thanks to similar hobbies. Unfortunately for both of you, the distance that split you up was much bigger to your dismay. His mornings were your late-night hours and your school hours were his bedtime. If it was somebody else than him this whole friendship wouldn’t last this long, yet it was almost one and a half a year since you met him.

For the first few months, you could only imagine how he looked but it didn’t interfere with you falling for him completely. Once you video-called for the first time you needed to hide your pink-tinted cheeks and uncontrollable smile of adoration. He turned out to be a perfect guy not only personality-wise but also by his gentle facial features.

Your phone suddenly buzzed a few times and you quickly picked it up to see texts from Heeseung.

You smiled at your phone for a few more minutes when he told you it was about time to check in his baggage and that he’ll text you once they take off, even though you’ll be deep in your sleep already.

But you stayed up, anticipating his message to help your racing heart calm down. Once the text notification dinged in your quiet bedroom you could finally rest thinking about all the things you were going to show him.

You woke up much earlier than you were supposed to. The first thing you did was check where he currently was. You had plenty of time but already started your morning routine and dressed comfortably. Walking back and forth you kept on checking where his flight was like a maniac. When it finally said he’ll land in an hour or so you took your car keys and made your way to the airport.

Since it was the beginning of summer vacation many people gathered to either pick up their kids from student exchange or to go on their getaways.

Heeseung’s plane already landed which meant he was about to come out with his luggage any moment. What seemed like the last moment to think about it, thoughts of what you should do flooded your mind. Should you hug him? Or just wave at him? Or maybe give him a high five?

Your train of thought stopped once you heard your name being called. You looked up and saw a silhouette of your best friend walking up to you with open arms. Without noticing it you realized you were in his arms, in his warm and comforting embrace you dreamt about. None of you knew for how long you stood there hugging but when you finally pulled out he spoke teasingly: “Hope you were daydreaming about me just a second ago.”

“You wish.”

The time you had spent together was filled with laughter and sharing interesting stories that definitely sounded better in person. There was no moment of silence, and even if there was one it was a comfortable type when you could gather your thoughts and start a conversation again. Everything seemed to be so easy around him, so comfortable, so perfect. You tried not to think about saying goodbye to him, you really didn’t want to let that thought in, but it was unavoidable. Whenever you were silent you fought the urge to cry, wanting to savor this moment for as long as you can at the same time.

Both of you sat in the cafe, thirsty for some caffeine. It was one of your favorites - you came here almost every day to study, read or just chill in the fuss and smell of coffee. Soon the barista called your names to collect your orders and he immediately stood up saying he’ll get them for you.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you thanked him, taking a cup from him.

In response he just smiled back at you, sending you an indefinite amount of butterflies. He sat next to you this time, not in front of you, on the other side of the table. He showed you some pictures of him and his friends, his hometown, his work, and his hobbies. You stayed silent, listening intently to him sometimes forgetting not to stare too much, but people around you already seemed to know how much you adored the boy.

Soon, comfortable silence embraced you and you just enjoyed each other’s presence in the slight chaos of a busy coffee shop. Suddenly, you felt his head softly lay on your shoulder, taking you off guard and making you flustered. Apart from that, the only time you touched was a hug at the airport and unintentional hand brushes while you wandered around the city.

Then, it hit you.

“Oh Hee, you must be tired. Do you want me to walk you home?” you asked looking at the top of his head.

He slowly looked up at you with a smile.

“Lovely, don’t be silly.”

You froze at the spot. Throughout your friendship, you realized how a flirty person he was, but he never called you those cute nicknames. Not knowing how to react you just remained silent and averted your gaze from him.

Heeseung could feel how his cheeks burned at the slipped nickname he only dreamed of calling you. He thanked the universe that you didn’t look at him, since all you would have seen would be his flustered and embarrassed face.

Two weeks passed quickly, way too quickly. You were currently in each other’s embrace savoring the last minutes you were about to spend together. None of you knew when will be the next time you will see each other. Will it be a month, half a year, or maybe whole 12 months? Both of you had your own lives, you were busy with college, and Heeseung was immersed in his work.

Both of your hearts were beating so fast as if they were racing with each other. People around you watched as you and he tried to contain tears, with success. Both of you very much aware how none of you wanted to part ways.

What you didn’t know was how big of a hesitation and battle Heeseung had in his mind. He wasn’t blind, nor was he stupid. He saw how you looked at him, how much adoration your eyes held whenever he caught you staring. As much as he wanted to shout out to the world how he adores and cherishes you, he couldn’t. The time he spent with you made him sure he loved you truly with his whole heart, but it also helped him realize how difficult it would be to not be around you while in a relationship. For the last time, he fought the urge to leave a sweet and chaste kiss on your forehead and pulled out, faking the brightest smile he could.

You wished to see that smile every day for the rest of your life. You were so sure of him that it hurt to the core of your heart. Why does he have to live so far away? Is this a test? Or were you just not made for each other?

“I guess I have to go,” Heeseung suddenly said.

You tried to smile but failed miserably. You didn’t want to smile, not when he was leaving you, after making your two weeks the best you’ve ever had.

“I already miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you whispered as he slowly wandered off still facing you. He gave you one last smile and wave, crushing both of your hearts into small pieces.

“It’s so unfair.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl

#kflixnet #enhanet #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen imagine #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen texts #enhypen headcanons #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung x yn #heeseung x you #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader

[collisvng]

So I for some reason got really sad over Thanksgiving break and just daydreamed in order to stay sane.

And for some reason the main thing that brought me comfort was just the idea of Felix trying throw you a Thanksgiving dinner.

But like it goes completely wrong and he has to ask the guys for help.

Felix! would be the type to make sure you're at your happiest, no matter what holiday.

He's just like that; sweet, kinda, caring... and a little insane when it comes to making sure the people he loves are always feeling their best.

Thus why, when you explained that you were spending Thanksgiving alone this year because your parents lived too far visit, mans literally almost blew a fuse.

He'd never really celebrated the holiday—obviously—but that didn't stop him from wanting you to have a great holiday.

So there he was, in the dorms trying his best to prep a turkey in hopes to give you the best Thanksgiving dinner of your dreams...

...and failing.

Terribly.

He didn't know the first thing about prepping a turkey. Wtf was basting? Why did you need to tie the legs? Why the hell did so many things need to go INSIDE the damn thing?!

In tears, he would recruit Minho in a desperate attempt to save the day. And lucky for him, his friend was feeling particularly generous today.

(Also just the visual of Felix! with rivers streaming down his little cheeks due to frustration would make anyone fold, but that's another topic...)

Felix! would do all the baking, while Minho would do the cooking.

But it wouldn't be just the two of them for long.

Because wherever Minho goes, Han goes.

And if Han is there, Hyunjin is bound to show up.

And if Hyunjin is there, Changbin will magically appear.

Then Seungmin would make an appearance just to annoy Changbin.

Jeongin and Seungmin simply go hand and hand.

And Bangchan? Well, of course if his kids are all in one place he's gonna be there.

Soon, what was supposed to be a nice dinner between you and Mr. Sunshine turned into a friend gathering. Although, you had no idea of any of this. You were sitting at home, getting ready—confused as to why Felix! invited you over and told you to "dress nice" for "something special".

Maybe he was taking pity on you? I mean, he did know that you were alone on what you considered a family holiday. Perhaps he was just inviting you over to prevent you from your inevitable meltdown? Questionable.

All your contemplations and worries melted away the moment you arrived at the dorms, greeted by the starry-eyed fairy.

Felix! stood there—blonde bangs in his eyes, a bit of flour on his nose, pink apron on, and a big grin on his face.

He was cute, almost too cute, and your head would subtly begin to spin.

The sound of the guys in the background yelling for you in sort of sing-song, beckoning you to come join them as they got ready to eat dinner brought you back to reality.

You spent the night surrounded by your friends. Eating, sharing stories, laughing, and just feeling loved.

Maybe this was all you needed.

They were the family you never knew you needed.

Eventually, when you finally managed to get a brief moment alone with Felix!, you promptly gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His eyes would widen in confusion, looking at you with sweetest most dumbfounded expression ever. And you would just smile.

"Thank you."

Your words came out in a slight whisper as you interlocked your hands with his.

"Thank you for everything."

#➴collisvng writes #lee felix #lee yongbok #lee felix drabbles #lee felix thoughts #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #lee felix x reader #stray kids #stray kids drabbles #stray kids thoughts #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #skz x reader

[roohuh]

Studying in the greenhouse

Ominis X MC

One shot

Summary: You, Sebastian, and Ominis all spend a stormy afternoon studying in the greenhouse.

Warnings: noneee

You have never watched Ominis so closely before. But one day, while you, Sebastian, and Ominis all sit studying in the greenhouse. You notice how the flashing of the lightning outside highlights his cheekbones. Your hands forget their work as you study his so diligently tracing over a braille page. Taking note of the veins which run up the back of his hands to his toned forearms you feel a heat rise to your cheeks. You feel as if your heartbeat matches the raindrops pounding against the roof. You wonder why you never before noticed the way he smiles gently as he reads, or the way his eyes crinkle ever so slightly on the side when he smiles. *CLAP* his shoulders raise and give a subtle jerk at the thunder. You wonder if he’s more thrown off by the noise without the warning of lightning. How many things are harder for Ominis without his vision? How strong he must be to bear them so nonchalantly.

“What did you get for number 15?” Sebastian breaks your line of thought.

“I…um…15…” you mumble fumbling with your quill.

“I have not made it that far.” You groan as you realize how long you had spent admiring Ominis and how little you have gotten done.

“Are you having trouble? Do you need any help?” Ominis kindly offers.

“Just have to focus.” You shrug.

“Something wrong?” Sebastian asks, his mouth tightening in concern.

“Nothing wrong, just… tired.” You want to shrink into your seat or the floor to swallow you whole unwilling to admit that Ominis was your distraction.

“Alright, but you know you can talk to us.” Ominis tries his best to sound convincing. You know after Ranrok he and Sebastian had been concerned about you.

“I am really alright, just daydreaming.” Taking Ominis hand, you attempt to soothe. However as you take his hand you see an eyebrow go up at the gesture and a bit of a smile form on his lips. Yanking your hands away you awkwardly fumble with your quill.

“I better focus on this or I’ll be here all night.” Sebastian shoots you a questioning look but you try your best to ignore both of their scrutiny. Furiously you scrawl away at your parchment until they return to their own tasks. Just as you think you successfully moved on from your embarrassing gesture Sebastian stands and picks up his book.

“I am off.” He waves.

“Where are you going?” You attempt to keep the panic out of your voice. You feel too awkward to be left alone with Ominis. Sebastian gives you an exaggerated wink,

“I have places to be.” Wrinkling your nose at Sebastian you mentally note his intentional abandonment in a moment of need. Once he is gone you and Ominis sit in silence, trying your best to seem casual. The sound of the rain against the green house with the now more acational clap of thunder fills the air.

“I have finished my reading assignment. How is your work coming?” Ominis breaks the air. Your heart sinks at the news he is finished as you still have half a page left to write.

“I still have a ways to go yet.” You sigh. “If you would like, I will finish here and catch up with you and Seb later.” A disappointed frown flashes across Ominis face.

“I was going to stay unless you would like me to leave.”

“I would enjoy the company if you would stay.” Trying not to sound too eager you agree.

“Good.” He nods, taking out a different book and beginning to read.

“What are you going to read now?” You crane your head to read the title. “Pride and Prejudice?” You read.

“A muggle novel.” He shrugs nonchalantly. Curiosity peaked, you move closer to look at the book.

“I never took you for the type to read muggle literature.”

“I apperectiste a compelling story no matter the author.”

“And what does Mr. Gaunt deem a compelling story?” Ominis gives a small laugh.

“Finish your assignments and I will read to you the first chapter.” The offer sends your stomach into acrobatics.

“You would read it to me?” You know you sound eager but the offer caught you off guard.

“Be quiet, get your work done, and I will read you as much or as little as you desire.”

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #fanfic #harry potter hogwarts game #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis x you #ominis fluff #sebastian sallow

[j0kers-light]

Imagine y/n shows up to joker wearing a playboy bunny suit and ears and fluffy tail with rope in her hands.

I’m squealing just thinking about it.

His Lighthouse: Joker’s Bunny (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Joker’s Bunny - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Hey hi anon 🖤✨

I love love loved this imagine! I can’t believe tumblr had the audacity to delete it! It’s been sitting in the inbox since August 7th! Yay for refreshing?

Anyhooooooo I’ve been merging asks to dwindle the numbers down and I came across one that…. well.. It’s not my cup of tea. BUT! If it's up your alley (lol no pun intended) it's implied. I’ll mark it with an ** and let you figure it out. I do regret to inform that this is rather short because I love to tease. I will return to this idea later 😏

I won’t add a tag list until I complete this oneshot!

It was only supposed to be a nickname, an inside joke to use however Joker seemed fit. He gave you so many, it was hard to keep up with them all— yet this one stuck.

You were naturally curious, a timid little thing and overly cautious.

You always weighed out the options presented to you before jumping all in. Joker said it as a joke all those months ago but overtime, it became something more. One could argue that you adopted the moniker.

You responded to it without fuss and rarely rolled your eyes or huffed under your breath whenever he used it.

You would tilt your head and scrunch your nose to really bring the nickname to life. One random day you found yourself accepting the name when you used the emoji to refer to yourself.

You were without a doubt, Joker’s Bunny. He never thought you would take the title so seriously.

Joker groaned to himself.

Whhhhhy didn’t he stay with you tonight? You practically begged him to with those e/c eyes of yours but he stood firm on his ‘I have to go, it's im-port-ant’ spiel.

You pouted but sent him off with a kiss. Now Joker regretted his decision as each boring minute dragged on during this briefing. To be fair, it was important. Too bad Joker wasn’t listening. He spent his time staring off into space. daydreaming about you.

He wondered what you cooked tonight. Was it that new recipe you wanted to try or did you play it safe and fix one of his favorites? He loved your cooking and could go for a hearty meal after sitting through this snoozefest.

His thoughts were plenty and quickly changed. Did you take a bubble bath with that new bath bomb he bought you? Joker saw it in passing and immediately thought of you after seeing its onyx and opal swirls in the store.

If he remembered correctly it was called Night Sky and smelled like forbidden fruits. It had your name written all over it. So what if he stole a few for you?

Joker was envisioning your body soaking in the tinted water when his phone chiming startled him out of the fantasy.

He fished it out of his coat pocket and arched an eyebrow when he saw your message come through. Speak of an angel and you appear.

you coming home?

J smirked to himself after reading the word home.

It stirred up a flurry of emotions within him every time you used it. Joker thought he had no need for a home until you entered his life and proved him wrong. Every person needs a home; his just so happened to be you.

And Joker was feeling a bit homesick.

He found your message a bit odd since you knew he was overseeing a meeting tonight. Did something happen or were you just as needy as he was? He really should’ve stayed at home with you in the first place. Joker sighed and scanned the room.

The team was talking amongst themselves on how to pull off the hit without gaining the authorities’ attention. Joker drowned them out thirty minutes ago. He was only here for appearance’s sake and could care less.

They could iron out the details without him and that became the determining factor to answer your question. With a roll of his green eyes, he replied.

What’s in it 4 me?

Joker watched three tiny dots appear and fade multiple times over a course of several minutes. Whatever you wanted to say was deleted over and over until Joker finally got a vague response.

Come and find out 🐰

Such a sassy little thing you were tonight. A few seconds later, Joker received an attachment pic from you. He took one glance at it and reacted.

“Oi! Where you going, Boss?” A henchman called out.

Joker was already storming out the door to even notice that he scared everyone with his abrupt exit.

They were waiting for Joker to voice his opinion and he just up and left. Not like he cared. The small group however began to panic and scrambled to find a way to revise the plans to meet Joker’s high expectations.

They could all die trying to rob the bank for all he cared. Joker’s mind was elsewhere, solely on you.

His Bunny was asking for it.

It was the only explanation as to why the dying sun captured your sexy silhouette oh so perfectly. When Joker got home, he was gonna ruin you.

Joker didn’t notice Frost coming down the hall in his mad dash to the elevator. Frost took one look at his boss and scoffed.

“Let me guess. It’s either the airheads in the meeting or something B did.” He ignored Joker’s venomous glare yet the lack of response spoke volumes.

“Are you coming back after you fix her attitude?” Frost sighed softly.

The elevator door dinged open upon arrival and Joker marched inside to stab the ground floor button. He locked eyes with Frost and set his demands.

“Don’t bother us unless.. I dunno, it’s err raining cats and dogs.” Which meant no, he wasn’t coming back and they both knew it.

Frost spoke his own reflection as the doors slid closed. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

There really should be a guide to these types of things. How to look sexy for your lover while wearing a ridiculous outfit.

Perhaps you could write a guide yourself; it beat psyching yourself up to no avail.

You planned this for weeks and now the day finally came to commit and you were having second thoughts.

The last component arrived a little while after Joker left for his meeting and you just couldn’t stall another night. It was now or never.

You wouldn’t have the confidence to do this after today. Just looking in the mirror you felt silly all over again. Knowing that Joker left you on read didn’t boost that confidence any higher either.

It wasn’t that disappointing– Joker constantly left you on read in text conversations, the problem was that he left you hanging after you sent him a risque picture.

It took you ages to get the angle, the lighting, and find a pic you actually liked, before sending it to the clown and he didn’t appreciate none of it.

You checked yourself out in front of the floor length mirror and sighed as your heels clicked sharply on the hardwood. You thought you looked cute, hot even! But your opinion was moot if Joker didn’t approve.

Maybe he opened the message and got busy before he could respond? You told yourself anything except the truth.

He probably hated it and didn’t want to hurt yor feelings.

You puckered your glossy lips at your reflection, preparing to take off the ensemble when you heard keys turning in the front door.

Joker was back in record time. It made you wonder how he got here so fast but that was the least of your worries.

You grabbed his gift off the dresser right as you heard the bedroom door slam into the wall.

Joker was going to leave a dent in the wall if he kept doing that. You told him time and time again to stop. You were about to scold him right then but the fiery heat in his eyes stole your breath.

Joker was a raging bull, just shy of steam blowing out his nose.

His target? Poor ol’ you shifting your weight from heel to heel. You hid his surprise further behind your back and of course, he noticed.

“Whatcha got there.. Bunny.” Joker stressed the endearment more so than usual since you were dressed the part.

You wore your tallest pumps and donned a fresh pair of fishnets to go nicely with your f/c bunny suit. It clung to your figure in all the best ways and the white cuff links and debonair tie around your neck was the icing on the cake.

You looked every part the bunny Joker called you. He admired the bunny ears atop your head; one bent, the other straight. He loved every little detail you had.

Joker slowly stalked towards you with his head tilted slightly. “I asked... Whatcha got behind your back Bunny? Is it a surprise?”

You nodded demurely. So that’s how you wanted to play? Joker just grinned.

“Yeah? Is it…. for me?” You giggled when he tried to steal a peek if not for you dodging his attempts at the last minute.

Joker was all for your playful mood tonight and growled lowly, seeing your sly smirk. You did your makeup so pretty, but he was over the moon seeing your plump lips shimmering all for him. You wore that shade he bought you recently. The one that tasted like strawberries.

He wanted to ruin it and you.

His green eyes roamed down your beautiful face to your neck on full display for him to nibble and mark, down to your breasts practically bursting out of your suit.

He wouldn’t be surprised if you bought it two sizes too small with how your curves spilled out over the leather confines. Joker wanted to lay you down and knead your soft flesh and rip holes in your fishnets. You looked so good and he wanted to play.

There was so much he wanted to do! He grew tired of you ducking and dodging and grabbed your arms roughly. “Gotcha Bunny! Now… let’s uh, see what you oh..”

Joker audibly swallowed as you bit your lip and looked away.

Joker stared at the bundle of rope in your hands, honestly at a loss for words. The bright color would look heavenly against your skin tone and you knew Joker wanted to tie you up for months now. He introduced the idea once or twice and tested out the new concept by binding your wrists.

It excited you and drove him wild. It was high time he got his wish by going all in.

Joker rubbed his thumb against the rope and met your shy gaze. “Y/n… are you sure.”

You nodded and leaned up (even with heels on J towered over you) and kissed his cheek but Joker required a verbal agreement.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny. That you’ll let me uhh, tie ya up? You wanna be my sweet rope bunny huh doll?”

You nodded again but Joker reached out and gripped your chin, “Use your words, bunny.”

You moaned out and closed your eyes. Joker had yet to do anything and you were already worked up. “B-Bunnies don’t t-talk.” You gasped.

Joker was speechless as you finally turned around and let him see the fluffy bunny tail** you wore. You walked over to the edge of the bed and bent by your waist to wiggle your buns for Joker.

His breath was shaky but overly excited for what was about to happen. Joker unraveled the colored rope in his hands with a mocking tsk of his lips.

“What a naughty, naughty bunny girl I have.” 

#thanks anon! #thanks for the ask! #ledger joker x reader #black!fem!reader #joker x y/n #ledger joker #bunny girl #reader insert #Joker’s Bunny #his lighthouse #🐰 series #to be continued