#i know only a few words in polish :D

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pink princess

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, female receiving oral, girly!reader, violence, blood, rafe beats someone up, kelce is the bad guy in this D:

“i just don't get it rafe.” kelce shakes his head.

“what?” rafe mumbles, barely paying attention to his friend. even topper seems barely interested, both too focused on the football game playing on the television.

“how you could date a girl like y/n.” 

your name has rafe snapping to attention, turning to glare at kelce. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” rafe has only been your boyfriend for a couple months now, but he wouldn't question beating the shit out of his friend if he insulted you.

“don't get me wrong, the girl is nice and all. i like her she's just so… girly.” kelce says like it's an insult. “she only ever wears pink, she's all sweet and innocent. she's just not your type, that's all. im surprised.”

you let out a little sound, all of the boys attention snapping to you, kelces eyes widening when he realizes you have entered the living room.

“baby.” rafe coos softly. “come here.”

you cross over to rafe, rounding the couch to plop on his lap, keeping your head down to avoid looking at kelce.

“don't listen to him, princess.” rafe says softly, his voice so sweet, in contrast to the scared look on kelces face. “you're exactly my type.”

“shit rafe, i-i-didn’t mean-i didn't know she was-”

“get the fuck out.” rafe says, voice still soft as he pets his hand over your back, hating the pout that graces your sparkly gloss painted lips.

“rafe-” kelce tries to argue.

“no. get the fuck out. you're lucky im not beating your ass into the ground for upsetting my girl. now get the fuck out.”

kelce scrambles, rushing out of tanneyhill as the game continues on the tv, topper rightly deciding to remain silent.

“baby, talk to me.” rafe says softly, seeing tears still brimming in your eyes.

“im fine.” your voice is hoarse when the words finally escape your mouth.

“darling.” rafe sighs, tugging your bodies closer together, letting your head bury in his shoulder, not caring if you leave makeup stains on his shirt.

rafe knows the best thing to do is just let you breath, not wanting to work you up more with his words as his hand strokes over your back, hoping it's bringing you some sort of comfort.

“i had no idea he felt that way.” you finally pick your head up. you weren't close to very many girls, so when you and rafe started dating, you tried to quickly assimilate into his friend group and consider his few friends yours as well.

“he's just being a dick. don't worry, alright bunny? you're absolutely my type, and i love how girly you are, mkay?” rafe waits for you to nod and agree with him before he pulls you into a kiss, topper keeping his eyes trained on the tv while you make out.

--

“you ready to go princess?” rafe calls up the stairs, tapping his foot against the wood floor, waiting for you to finish getting ready to attend the gala he promised his dad he would be at.

“coming now!” you say before rushing down the stairs, but still being careful not to trip in your heels.

“you look gorgeous, honey.” rafe admires your outfit. its a new dress, or at least one that he hasn’t seen before. rafe takes your hand in his as you finish your descent, frowning when he realizes the glittery polish that was on your fingers has been scrubbed off, replaced with a creamy white that matches your dress, the only pink thing on your body being your lipstick.

“is that what you are wearing?” rafe questions.

“why, is something wrong with it?” you frown as you look down at your body.

“no-no.” rafe shakes his head. “not at all baby its just… very formal.” he figures the wording is better than blatantly asking why you’re not covered in pink and sparkles.

“well, it’s a formal event.” you roll your eyes, heading towards the door, not wanting to give ward a bad impression, and you know you’re already running late.

“yeah, right.” rafe nods, but his mind whirls in secret, wondering if there could be more to your change in appearance than that.

--

“you're going golfing with top today right?” you ask, rubbing your fingers through rafes hair, massaging his head. 

rafe knows you said something, but he's too relaxed to actually make out your words, struggling to blink his eyes open before humming, “what?”

you giggle at his blissed out expression, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “you're going golfing with topper later today right?”

“mhm.” rafe nods, letting out a soft moan when your long acrylics gently scratch over his scalp.

“maybe you can take me. ya know, i could learn how to golf. probably start with just putting.” you shrug.

“baby-” rafe has to take your hands and move them away, knowing he won't be able to focus on the conversation. “why do you want to learn how to golf? you hate sports.”

“that's not true!” you complain. “i like um… gymnastics and figure skating.”

rafe rolls his eyes “you like them for the sparkly outfits and music.”

you pout, moving yourself from straddling rafes lap to next to him on the couch. “aren't i allowed to be interested in the things you're interested in?”

“yes, of course.” rafe sighs, moving to kneel between your knees on the floor, taking your face in his hands, not letting you look away. “and if you really want to come, id love to have you. but if you are asking because you're trying to be less girly, then baby-” rafe leans in to press a kiss to your pouty lips- “i don't want you to change. i love you for who you are.”

“promise you don't mind?” your fingers play with the collar on his shirt, distracting yourself.

“promise.” rafe nods.

“okay, thank god.” you let out a giggle. “golf is so boring.”

--

you have your laptop and phone opened up, intensely scrolling as you switch between them, brow furrowed as you do your research.

“y/n-” 

you slam shut the laptop and turn the screen off on your phone as rafe walks into the room.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions. 

“nothing.” you smile at rafe. “just some online shopping.” you hope it's believable, but you can tell by rafes hesitation that he doesn't fully trust your explanation.

“okay…” rafe slowly approaches the bed, and you quickly move your laptop and phone to the bedside table as rafe crawls up next to you.

you distract him from asking more questions as you press your lips against his, pushing him to lay back on the bed as you grind down.

“ah, fuck.” rafe moans when you pull away, pulling your shirt off over your head to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath.

rafes hands cup your tits, massaging them in his large palms before suddenly flipping so you're the one laying down against the bed, completely forgetting about your suspicious behavior when he entered the room.

what rafe doesn't know, as he lowers down your body and flicks your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, is that you weren't online shopping, rather scowering through social media, trying to find all of rafes ex girlfriends or anyone he interacted with, all while you compared the girls to yourself.

you wish kelces words didn't still echo in your head, especially after rafes insistence they weren't true.

--

“gonna take a shower.” you tell rafe, setting your bags down in the foyer, knowing you'll get around to them later.

“you sure not a bath? i can run one for you.” rafe offers, following you up the stairs.

“nah, that's fine.” you shrug, frowning slightly when you see your display of lush bath bombs. you're trying to be less high maintenance, more easy going. 

“come on, what if i wanna soak with you in the bath?” rafe pouts. “please baby.”

you can't help but giggle at his doe eyes blinking at you. “okay, sure.”

“good.” rafe hums before placing a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss before he heads towards the bath, turning the hot tap on. you watch as he looks at your bath bombs before selecting a light blue bath bomb with star embeds.

rafe sets the bath bomb down on the edge of the large tub before turning to you. “what should we do while we wait for the bath to fill?” you question, tugging your ponytail out to let your hair fall.

“mmm, i know exactly what i want to do.” rafe says.

in only a few moments he has your shorts down, perched on the edge of the bathtub while his head is buried in between your legs, tongue licking greedy stripes over your cunt.

--

“missed you.” you whine, burying your face into rafes chest as he rocks gently, holding you tight to him.

“missed you too, princess.” rafe is relieved to finally have you back in his arms. hes been away for an entire week, and you came to the airport to get him despite rafe insisting that he was fine to get himself home. you just couldn't wait any longer.

you whine when rafe pulls away slightly, making him laugh and tug you back into him.

“clingy baby.” rafe coos, but the words make your cheeks hot as you pull away. 

“hey, hey.” rafe grabs your hand, tugging you back against his chest. “i didn't mean it like that.”

“okay.” you whisper with a nod, tears brimming in your eyes. with rafe being gone, you spiraled even further, going as far as to befriend a couple of his exes to compare yourself even more to them. you also attended a party that kelce was at, and while he didn't speak at all to you, you could occasionally feel his eyes on you, disapproval in his gaze.

“love you so much bunny.” rafe says, rubbing his large hands over your shoulders. “let's get home so i can show you how much i missed you, yeah?”

you perk up as you nod, making sure your hand is clasp together with rafes as you head out of the airport and towards the parking lot, your keys hanging from your finger that isn't intertwined with rafes.

“here, baby.” rafe opens the passenger side door for you, but you frown and don't move towards it.

“you just got off a flight, rafe. i can drive.” 

“nope.” rafe snatches the keys out of your grasp. “you're my girl, and as long as im here you have no need to drive yourself. now get in, my passenger princess.”

--

“ready for the party?” you ask rafe, adjusting your skirt as rafe walks down the stairs.

“of course.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking down at your outfit.

“baby… is this really what you want to wear?” rafe asks. he likes any clothes you put on, but the black skirt paired with a plain white cropped tee, not even accented by any jewelry just isn't you.

“i just…” you swallow. “i just know kelce is gonna be there. wanna show him that i don't need to be wearing sparkly pink every second.”

rafe can't speak, the anger quickly rising when he realizes that months later you still haven't let go of kelces words, still worrying that you arent the right person for rafe.

“go put on a sparkly dress.” rafe simply says, not able to keep his voice soft, despite addressing you. you hustle upstairs, changing into the outfit you really wanted to wear, adding some jewelry and colourpop super shock shadow to your lid.

you bounce down the stairs, feeling much more yourself now.

“theres my pretty girl.” rafe says, his words sweet but his face still angry as he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out towards his truck.

he speeds to the party as you sit there silently, playing with your rings, worried about what is going to happen when you get to the party, especially knowing kelce is gonna be there.

“rafey, don’t do anythi-” you tell him as he helps you down after parking, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

rafe eyes kelce standing on the front lawn, a red solo cup in his hand. he hasn’t spotted rafe yet, but you know as soon as he does the smile is going to drop from his face.

rafe begins to stalk towards him while you trail behind, grimacing when rafe throws a punch, landing right on kelces cheek.

“fuck you!” rafe shouts, shoving him back before kelce can even realize what is happening.

“yo, man, stop!” some guy you recognize but don’t know his name yells, but doesn’t try to get in the middle as rafe punches kelce again.

you can’t help the smile on your face, watching your man defend you throughout anything, even if it involves turning one of his close friends into a bloody pulp.

“y/n… it’s gone on long enough, stop him.” topper comes up behind you, making you jump.

you turn to look at him before back at kelce, eyes glazed over as rafe shouts at him again. you rush to rafes side, grabbing at his fist. “okay, okay.” you tell him softly. “he gets it.”

rafe steps away as kelce falls to the ground, his chest heaving as his lip and nose drip blood. “let this be a lesson.” rafe turns to the crowd that has grown. “no one shit talk me or my girlfriend or this is what happens to you.” rafe points at kelce, not giving another word before stalking away, literally grabbing you and picking you up to carry you back towards his truck. you stay quiet as rafe sets you in the passenger seat.

“are your knuckles hurt?” you ask, petting your hand gently over his wrist as rafe shifts the car into gear, rushing away from the party.

“i’ll be fine, baby.” rafe says, glancing at his reddened fingers. “just need to get you home.”

“oh.” you nod, knowing that while rafe got some of his anger out on kelce, he’s certainly going to get the rest of his pent up energy out on you. 

it takes minutes from the time you get home for rafe to have your back flat on the bed, his large cock thrusting into you. 

you moan out, hands gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving scratches against his tanned skin. 

“you’re. my. fucking. girl.” rafe says, accentuating each word by pounding his cock inside of you.

you let out a moan, kelces mean words thoroughly beat out of your head as you nod. “im yours.”

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[breadbrobin]

campfire games

luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians

[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]

summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.

warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.

word count: 1.6k

(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)

(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)

(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)

——————————————————

there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.

campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.

clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”

“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.

“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”

you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”

she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”

with that, she left you sitting alone.

well, not really alone.

luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.

you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.

“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”

“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”

“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”

“always.” he said seriously.

you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.

luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.

“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.

you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”

he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.

you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”

you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.

andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”

“i am.”

“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”

“no, i think i’m okay.”

“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”

you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”

“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”

“i only play games with people i like.”

“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”

you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”

‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.

andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”

“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.

his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.

his hand was on your thigh.

gross.

you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.

“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.

“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.

he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.

he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”

you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”

he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”

“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”

he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”

you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.

he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.

“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“

you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.

“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”

he nodded, still hunched over.

“good boy,” you grit out.

“fucking bitch,” he grunted.

your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”

“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.

you laughed. “hey, luke?”

“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.

“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”

you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.

your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.

“what?” he asked quietly.

“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.

he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”

“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”

“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”

“good, because if you had stepped in—“

“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.

“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”

“ah, my bad.”

as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo x reader #pjo #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

[gogobootz1]

At War

Luke Castellan x Reader [fem!daughter of Apollo]

Summary: There's nothing like some friendly competition, but when planning rival parties, you and Luke are a little less than friendly.

Word count: 2k

Every year, there came a time for the retreats- a chance for children of the gods to bond and have some special fun. One big retreat seemed pointless, so camp faculty allowed two. The two retreats accidentally split the boys and girls, and naturally, they turned into an (unofficial) competition. As one of the oldest and most experienced campers- you’d been volunteering to champion a retreat for years. Traditionally, you’ve hosted a slumber party equipped with PJs, dancing, games, movies, braid trains, nail polish, and basically anything anyone could want. You also, of course, have the best food. Each year, it’s been a hit, and it’s only gotten better with time. 

The only problem is that you have tough competition. The day after the retreats, you always hear about what happened at the other one. Paintball, camping, fishing, mad romps through the wood, scary stories- barbecue. Everyone loved it. And every year, you’ve had to quietly conceal your anger and jealousy. It pains you to admit that Luke sure can throw a party (maybe even better than you can). But this year, you are more determined than ever to outdo him. 

The two of you have long been in competition, and things have only escalated. As hilarious as Mr. D found both your antics last year, Chiron was extremely unhappy about the fact the two of you had exceeded the budget by miles. He’d told you both to reign it in this year or no more retreats. When he felt that didn’t sufficiently move you, he threatened to let other people plan them. You both caved and vowed to stick to the budget this year. 

You’re always a little frantic the day of, and today is no different. To your chagrin, Luke is cool as a cucumber. It pisses you off to no end. 

“Nervous?” A smug voice voice asks from behind your back. You drop the spoon you were using to push mashed potatoes around your plate. 

You turn slowly on the bench, “Why should I be?"

“Usually, you’re pulling out your hair before the retreats,” he says skeptically, “perfectionism taking its toll.”

“Yeah? Well, my perfectionism makes my parties perfect,” you flaunt. The few sisters that can stand to be around you when you’re stressed roll their eyes. It’s clear to them this is escalating. 

“What about when Susie vomited in your bouncy house last year?” He taunts, and you glare at him. That girl should not have been jumping after four bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and two Redbulls- it was hardly your fault. 

“How about when Aidan got a concussion after falling off the mechanical bull?” You snap back. 

You don’t notice Luke’s shadow until he pipes in, “Are these people okay?” 

“They signed waivers!” You say at the same time, and the new Poseidon kid takes a defensive step back. You send Luke a glare when you realize you spoke in sync. He huffs before smirking at you. 

“Good luck with your sleepover,” he mocks, “You’re gonna need it.” Before you can reply, he marches away, protégée in tow. 

“Eat shit!” You call out after him. 

“That was weak, girl,” one of your sisters says.  

“Shut up, I know,” you shake your head at her, “now come help me set up.” You drag her up by her elbow to make your sacrifices, then get to work. 

Five hours later, the main hall looks great. Your disco ball is glimmering, the mini photo booth is equipped with feather boas and pink cowboy hats, the food is all laid out, and the stage you bribed some Hephaestus kids to build looks great. 

“Perfect,” you whisper, pleased at your surroundings. 

“Fucking finally!” Your sister throws her hands up and walks away. You’ve very likely driven most of your half-siblings insane today. 

“Thanks for your help!” You call after her, and as she goes, you spot some prying eyes through the window. Percy, you think his name is, looks afraid now that you’ve caught him peering in through the window. In a few swift moves, you leave the room and block his exit from the patio. 

“Can I help you?” You ask suspiciously. 

“Just admiring your excellent disco theme,” he says, putting an ultra-sweet smile on his face. As charming as the boy is, you take your retreat very seriously and feel a deep-seated urge to protect it from potential sabotage. 

“Mhmmm,” you nod, “and you wouldn’t happen to be reporting back to anyone about what you’ve seen?” 

“Whaaaaaat?” Percy asks, awkwardly chuckling. 

Your shoulders drop, of course, Luke would stoop to employing spies. You dig into your pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill, “I’ll give you this if you act as a double agent.” 

He eyes your money suspiciously, “Do you really think I can be bought?” 

You roll your eyes and pull out another bill, “How’s twenty?” 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he grabs both bills from your hand and shakes it. Percy happily walks past you, shoving his new earnings into his pocket. 

You grin, “Make sure he hears all about how awesome my party is!”

“I’m on it, boss,” he calls over his shoulder. After a short walk, he’s back to the boathouse lounge where Luke has been waiting for his report. 

“Well?” The older boy asks him, jumping up from his spot on the couch. 

Percy shakes his head solemnly, “Bad news, boss.” 

“What?!” He asks, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me she went over budget. She didn't get another mariachi band, did she?” Percy shakes his head and files this new information away. With what he’s been hearing about the last few retreats, he’s almost sad to have missed them. 

“No, but it does look super cool,” he nods, and it really wasn’t a lie- he saw a chocolate fountain on that snack table. 

“Damn,” Luke’s face twitches in annoyance. 

“But your party will be great too, I’m sure,” he smiles, nodding reassuringly. 

“Of course, it will,” he says defensively, “make sure you check back in over there from time to time. I want to know how it’s progressing.” 

“Sure,” Percy nods, but his concern at the competitiveness underlying this event grows. He wonders just how bad this will get tonight. But check back in he does, and he won’t deny he enjoys himself at the sleepover. Every time he visits, you give him a new sparkly mocktail, and the Aphrodite girls give him a new feather boa. At one point, he’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and eating some cake. He was very impressed when M&Ms fell out of the middle as you cut it. Apparently, it’s also one of your newest sisters’ birthdays- he’s heard whisperings of some big special present for her yet to come. 

Each time Percy returns to the other retreat, he can see Luke get a little more tense. The fact that he’s exaggerating doesn’t help either. When he tells the older boy that you have an ice sculpture spitting Dr. Pepper, he thinks he sees steam pour from Luke’s ears. It’s not like people aren’t enjoying his party, but Percy can that Luke wants to one-up you and feels like he’s falling short. 

“And I’ve heard she has a special surprise in store for Sophie since it’s her birthday. Apparently, she’s the newest addition to their cabin, so she wants to do something special,” Percy nods at him, eating a taco he had brought back from your party. Luke cuts him off by grabbing the taco from his hand just as he’s about to take another bite. “Hey!” He protests when Luke puts it right in the trash. 

“When is this surprise?” He asks the twelve-year-old. 

“The Aphrodite girls told me I should be back in like twenty minutes so I wouldn’t miss it,” Percy tells him. 

“And when was that?” 

“Like twenty minutes ago,” he shrugs, and Luke just stares at him. “Ohhhhh,” he says when he realizes how long it’s been. 

“Come on,” Luke shakes his head and starts out the door, Percy in tow. They can hear the surprise before they see it, an ABBA song blasting out of the building. Only, they don’t realize who's performing it until they walk in. Along with two of your musically-inclined Apollo sisters, you’re dressed in bell bottoms and sleeves. And you look like you’re having the time of your life- until you spot them, that is. 

“Look, look, look, look,” you pull the microphone away to mutter to Tanya. Her shock is visible, but you both keep performing anyway. The crowd goes wild at the end, and Sophie runs up on stage to give you a big hug. You let Tanya take over host duties and make your way through the crowd to the party crasher. 

“That was,” Luke starts, but you are not keen to hear whatever he has to say about your outfit, or your performance, or your party. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

His expression instantly sours, “I wanted some Dr. Pepper from your ice sculpture, where is it?” 

“What are you talking about?” You’re highly confused until Percy gives you the cut-it-out motion from behind Luke’s back. “We put it back in the freezer,” you say, and Percy gives you the thumbs up. No matter what you think of him, Luke’s not an idiot. He turns around in time to spot Percy’s gestures. 

“Wait a second, are you two colluding?” He looks between the two of you in shock. 

“You were colluding with him first,” you shrug, crossing your arms. “You really earned that twenty dollars, by the way,” you compliment the kid, and he gives you a pleased nod. 

“Dude,” Luke turns toward Percy, betrayed. 

“She outbid you,” he shrugs. “Hey, what if you guys just went to each other’s parties?” 

You both eye the boy suspiciously, “Why would we do that?” You ask him, and Luke nods in agreement.

“Well, you’re both so desperate to know about the other’s party, so why don’t you just experience it for yourselves?” Percy asks, and when he feels you aren’t sufficiently moved by it, he tries again. “If you attend both parties, you can decide who wins.” 

“Good enough for me,” Luke wanders off into your party.

“Yeah, okay,” you head for the door. 

“Hopeless,” Percy mumbles, shaking his head. 

An hour later, you and Luke meet in the middle of your respective parties. You stare at each other for a minute before you admit in sync, “I had fun.” 

“We have to stop doing that,” you shake your head. 

“Agreed.” 

You’re both silent again for a minute. “The slip and slide was a good idea,” you say reluctantly, soap still in your hair, “low budget but lots of fun. Tubing was good too. And the campfire.” You had changed out of the disco attire and into shorts and a T-shirt over your swimsuit. 

“Did you try-“

“Chris can really grill,” you nod. After some hesitance, you finally choke out a confession, “I am very displeased to call you the winner.”

“No way,” he shakes his head. 

“What?”

“You totally won,” he shrugs, “the disco was killer.” You only now realize he changed into pajamas. 

“You actually embraced the sleepover?” 

He flicks some grass off your shoulder, “You gave my party a fair shot.” That’s true, and you nod, looking away for a second. “The chocolate fountain was a nice touch.”

“Thank you.”

“And I was trying to tell you earlier, but your performance was really cool,” he admits. 

“Yeah?” A genuine grin grows on your face at this. Most everyone in the Apollo cabin loves music, but some of your half-siblings are more keen to perform than you. Hearing this, and from him especially, means a lot. 

“Yeah,” he nods, smiling now too. “You’re the winner here.” 

“Let’s call it a draw?” You offer, and he nods. 

“What if we just worked together and planned one party next year?” He asked, and you pretend to consider it for a moment. 

“That could be cool,” you nod, “imagine what we could do with the combined budget.” 

He grins and scrunches his nose, “How about we enjoy this year’s party until then?”

“We could do that,” you nod, “where to?”

He swiftly wraps an arm over your shoulder and starts guiding you back to your party, “Let’s boogie.” You laugh, and he thinks it’s a sound he could get used to. 

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

I've been awake for too long so idk if this is coherent but I had fun <3

#luke castellan x reader #pjo fanfic #luke x reader #pjo series #luke castellan #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #Malleus birthday takeover #something no one asked for #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Deuce Spade #leave it to me to turn Malleus’s deranged groovy face into family angst

[etherealbelphie]

An Unwanted Interruption (Ft. Lucifer and GN!MC)

Warnings: Slight romantic implications? (Lucifer has a crush on the MC if you squint)

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I've had a bunch of Christmas/winter themed stories in my drafts for a while, I figured it was about time to polish them up and post them! This will be the first of many :D This is also somehow the second Lucifer-centric fic I've ever written. This concept had me giggling the entire time I wrote it, so I hope you enjoy it!

I think I added all the right warnings, if I should add any, please let me know!

-Ethereal ^J^

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer had agreed to take you to the human world during the holiday season.

While Christmas in the Devildom was alright, they hadn’t begun celebrating the holiday until much more recently, when Christmas became less about religion and more about spending time with those you love.

Christmas in the Devildom didn’t have the same history and tradition that the human world did.

Which is why you were so ecstatic, even if you were only going to a mall for a few hours.

“Come on, let’s go!” You said impatiently, bouncing on your heels.

“The human world is cold this time of year, is it not?” Lucifer asked, buttoning up his jacket.

You could’ve sworn he started going even slower just to spite you.

“It’s cold, but it’s not that cold,” you emphasized, gesturing to your outfit. You two were going straight inside, and you didn’t feel like lugging a ton of winter gear around. “You know there’s heating in the mall, right?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes but finished buttoning the rest of his coat quickly. He tugged on his gloves, then turned to you. “Very well, let’s get going then.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you a little closer. “So the both of us will be teleported,” he claimed.

He mumbled something you couldn’t be bothered to decipher -though it sounded vaguely Latin- and next thing you knew, the two of you were standing in an empty alleyway.

“Holy crap, we’re here!” You exclaimed, unable to look away from the snow glittering in the sunlight. Even as the cold wind whipped at you, you could still feel the faint traces of the sun’s warmth.

“Of course we’re here,” Lucifer scoffed. “Did you really think I’d fail?”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, though your mock-irritation was quickly replaced by excitement once more. “Now, come on! I know where we are! The mall is this way!”

You grabbed his hand and began leading the way through the snowy streets. If Lucifer had a problem with that, he didn’t say so.

With the enthusiastic pace you’d set, the two of you had made pretty good time, and were by the front entrance no more than ten minutes later. The first set of automatic doors opened, and the two of you stepped inside.

You sighed in relief as a wave of warm air hit you, then you turned to Lucifer. “So, what did you want to do first?”

“I don’t have a preference,” He answered, tugging off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. “I figured that I would allow you to choose what we did today, seeing as you’re more familiar with this environment than I am.”

“Oh!” You paused a second, thinking. Lucifer always took your opinions into consideration, of course, but him having none of his own was exceptionally rare. “Well, when I’m here, I usually go to-“

You noticed a woman had approached the two of you, patiently waiting for you to finish your conversation.

“Ah…can we help you?” Lucifer asked.

She smiled, pulling a book out of her bag— Oh no.

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?”

You were certain you had an expression of absolute horror on your face and couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Thankfully, Lucifer took the reins and answered. “Oh, no thank you.” He smiled at the woman politely.

“At least take this, then?” She held the book in his direction, and he recoiled.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I can’t touch that. I may literally burst into flames.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. You weren’t sure if you were absolutely mortified or about to start crying from laughter.

“What, are you a Satanist?” She asked, scowling.

“Certainly not,” Lucifer said, sounding offended at the mere suggestion. “He wishes.”

That response was enough to push you over the edge, unable to contain your laughter. This prompted strange looks from literally everyone around you, but you didn’t care.

The woman stared at you a long, long moment before she finally turned around and left, which only made you laugh harder.

Lucifer looked at you a moment. Though his lips were pressed together, you could see him cracking a smile too.

“I-I’m sorry!” You exclaimed between fits. “I- I didn’t know what to do!”

He chuckled. “That wasn’t the first time, and I’m quite certain it won’t be the last time someone approaches me about my father. I’ve gotten good at responding. You, on the other hand…” He simply smirked at you, which made you start laughing all over again.

#obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me luci #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x mc #obey me lucifer x main character #obey me luci x main character #obey me luci x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me christmas

[zoyasribbon]

SILKEN WHISPERS — d. szobozlai

.ೃ࿐ summary : Punctuality has forever coursed through your veins, especially during the most significant occasions. Yet, who would have guessed that a simple silk dress could shatter that rule?

.ೃ࿐ words : 0,6k.

.ೃ࿐ genre : suggestive.

.ೃ࿐ warning : swearing, hot makeout sesh.

.ೃ࿐ author’s note : marking my debut in the imagine territory where I’m taking my first steps with this little guy here—i have so many ideas in store ^^ hope you enjoy !

“Fuck, I love this dress” he growled into your ear.

You marveled at how Dominik had a way of approaching you with such effortless charm, savoring every moment of it. His warm breath brushed against the delicate shell of your ear, sending ripples of sensation through your entire being. You could sense the contours of his lush lips as they curved into a wicked smile, long before you could catch their reflection in the mirror.

His exquisite mouth. The gentle bristle of his stubble. His tussled, soft brown hair. The earthy scent of his cologne.

Him.

You couldn't fathom why his compliment impacted you so deeply. Well, you were aware of your excellent taste in clothing, a truly refined taste. Even the shop assistant praised your choice earlier. Yet, it was gratifying to receive admiration for your dress selection, a specific taste you had honed over the years, despite hearing your mother's reprimands all through your teenage years.

There was nothing overtly revealing about it. You cherished the fabric's softness and the delicate hue, an homage to the early breath of the warm summer day that lay ahead. It draped around your form, lending both grace and a sense of comfort.

Elegance and comfort, precisely what you sought. With Dominik so close behind you now, you felt, on top of all that, utterly sexy.

You mirrored his smile before focusing on applying your red lipstick. Dominik drew even nearer. His large hands encircled your waist, exerting a firm hold. His thumbs traced delightfully slow, feathery circles down your back, igniting a blaze that seemed to sear the silky fabric, sending tendrils of heat down your spine. What was his intention?

You attempted to stifle a gasp, but the faint tremor in your body, as involuntary as it was, betrayed you. Naturally, Dominik, to his great delight, took notice.

His languorous demeanor slowly gave way to a more intimate and intense expression. Your eyes fluttered shut as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. He was acutely aware of the effect this simple yet intimate act would have on you, especially when he focused on that particular spot where your shoulder met your neck. It was, after all, one of his many areas of expertise.

Unconsciously, you allowed the lipstick you had just lowered to slip from your hand onto the polished wooden chest of drawers. This granted you the excuse to weave your fingers into his hair—a subtle act not only to steady yourself but also to unwittingly encourage his delightful administrations, preventing your legs from giving way.

"We're going to be late," you managed to articulate with a tremulous, breathless voice. He let out a small laugh against your skin. "It's your cousin's wedding, after all," you murmured desperately, knowing that soon you would be rushing headlong into trouble.

In response, he delicately nipped a part of your neck. That slightest gesture was enough to make you surrender. Your head tilted backward, finding support against his sturdy chest before leaning slightly to the side. Your hand grabbed a few strands of his hair, pulling gently, eliciting a moan from him.

Now literally pressed against Dominik, you could feel every beat of his heart pulsating against his still partly unbuttoned white shirt. The mirror had indeed offered you a delightful view of his well-defined torso.

You ceased pretending that this damn wedding held any significance the moment his hands slid forward across your breasts and descended towards the lower curve of your belly and even lower. Suddenly, he emitted another groan, this one more desperate and guttural than the first. Your breath caught.

"You know what?" he whispered, "Far too perfect. Let your hair down, darling, I need to ruffle you up a bit before we go."

#neima’s writing #well that’s a first innit #dominik szoboszlai #Dominik szobozlai imagines #dominik szobozlai imagine #dominik szobozlai x reader #Dominik szobozlai one shot #liverpool fc imagine #liverpool fc fanfic #dominik szobozlai fanfic #dominik szobozlai fic #dominik szobozlai x you #dominik szobozlai smut #footballer x reader #footballer fic #footballer imagine #premier league imagine

[hothothotch]

𝒂𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

since i'm getting lost between my own stories, i decided to organize them in a masterlist that will be fixed on my profile.

so, behold: the aaron hotchner x reader multiverse!

requests:

'Til I See You Again: Reader was a part of Aaron's first case, and they meet again after years. TW: they flirt.

Breaking Hearts: Set on S03E20/S04E01. Reader is a BAU Agent and is mistreated by Hotch on behalf of Kate Joyner. TW: angst, fluff, 5.3 k words.

Midnight Snacks: Aaron catches you and Jack having midnight snacks! TW: fluff.

Don't You Say You're in Love: Your and Aaron's daughter pretends she's not dating someone... until Aaron meets the guy. TW: Hotch being a Dad.

Friends In The Corner: When Jack is bullied for having pink polish on, Aaron decides to help boost his confidence... by doing the same. TW: Hotch being the cutest Dad in the world.

Courage: When your father discovers about your and Aaron's situationship, Aaron stands by you. TW: protective Aaron, swearing.

series:

(𝑰 𝑷𝒖𝒕 𝒂) 𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑶𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑨𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒓 (coming soon)

SUMMARY: in which a witch hoping to fulfill a promise ends up falling in love with the absolute man she wasn’t supposed to

PAIRING: beast! Aaron Hotchner x witch!Fem Reader

WARNINGS: story loosely based on Beauty and The Beast’s plot, but with a few (read: a lot) changes. Magic. Grief. I think that’s it.

LOVE IS ON THE RADIO! (coming soon)

PAIRING: Aaron Hotchner x Famous Fem! Reader

SUMMARY: it’s common knowledge that the closest Aaron Hotchner always got from listening songs was his old Beatles’ album that played on repeat in his car — that is, until you stumble over him during one of his workouts.

T/W: fluff in its purest form; reader is a singer; fluff again; talks about cases; a lot of McFly songs being mentioned for no apparent reasons; fluff; reader pretends to be a normal girl (but that obviously doesn’t work — oh look, another McFly song); fluff; potential angst; media harassment; fluff; age gap (reader is 30 and Aaron’s 41, but the age is not so important, so feel free to change it as you want); fluff.

𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ���𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 | 𝚊𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚎𝚛 (ongoing)

SUMMARY: after ten years dormant, The Boston Reaper attacks again in the dead of night, one day after Tom Shaunessy's — the officer to whom the case was initially given — passing. having inherited the case from Shaunessy (read: having stolen the case from the Boston PD), the only thing Aaron Hotchner wants is to get the killer and finally put an end to his history of endless murders. but when he unexpectedly bonds with a surviving victim, it's not only Aaron's desire to do the job that drives him but the urge to protect the only person that saw in him something he couldn't see anymore.

PAIRING: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Latin American Reader

TW: talks about stabbing (it's Foyet, after all); actual stabbing. Specific triggers written on the chapters.

𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓾𝓷𝓾𝓼𝓾𝓪𝓵 | 𝓪𝓪𝓻𝓸𝓷 𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 (ongoing)

PAIRING: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem Reader

SUMMARY: aaron hotchner knows that when you’re not in a relationship with someone, it’s not unusual to see the person you’re smitten with (but won’t admit) falling in love again and again and again… for someone else. but when his feelings start to grow too much and become a bit too obvious, maybe he should start marveling the idea of making it known.

TW: fluff, a lot of fluff. comments about cases (possible spoilers). aaron being jealous, a lot. reader has a brief (like, one chapter) relationship with derek. cannon typical cm content. other warnings on its respective chapters :D

one-shots:

𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 | 𝒂𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒓

SUMMARY: you’ve been working as Jack Hotchner’s babysitter for the past two years, but as your wedding day gets closer and closer, you start questioning if you’re taking the right step — or if you should jump into the abyss of feelings you developed for you boss, Aaron Hotchner.

PAIRING: Aaron Hotchner x Female Babysitter Reader

TW: fluff, really, a lot of fluff. except for the beginning, that’s is pretty much angst (i think?). there’s a small suggestive comment towards the middle of it, but i don’t think it can be considered NSFW (let me know if it does).

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner requests

[lacunafiction]

How would the ROs react to someone asking for their number when they are dating the MC? 

Hi Anon,

I hope you’re doing well.

For this ask, we are going to pretend cellphones are common in Fernweh despite the lacking signal. :D

B: I feel like B might actually almost give it before realizing this was meant in a romantic way. Let the backpedaling begin! “Oh yeah, I'll add you too. My partner has all the heart emojis though. They are also, like, my emergency contact, so... What's your name again??” Hopefully, their sheepish flush isn't misinterpreted as a blush. It was an accident! They are going to tell you once you come back and/or rescue them.

S: “I’ll pass, but thanks.” Polite, nonchalance helps to soften S's rejection, although any persistence/insistence from their admirer will cause S's sharp wit to leave a mark. They will likely try to create some distance after that answer, walking away or going back to reading, etc.

R: “483-003-21—My partner will kill you." 🥴 No hesitation with shutting the person down with a slightly playful edge to it. Yes, they would say this even about the sweetest and shyest MC just to make it clear that they aren't available or interested. R doesn't understand how the person missed the hint from earlier, but they are willing to remind them. 

J: “...I don't have a phone.” 😐 Very calm, possibly too calm, and neutral. Before the person could even ask for their number, J was starting to look for you since they lost interest while still not yet cluing into their admirer's infatuation with them. If the person insists, J leaves. They don't have time for this and would much prefer finding you again. (Also, yeah, J has a phone, only very few people know their number.) 

Mal: “Now why would you want my number when your phone's broken?” The admirer might grow confused, lighting up the screen of their phone to prove a point, just in time to see Mal's polished smile turn sharper. They get the hint and back off, possibly backing away. Zero tolerance from Mal, especially since this person must have timed asking them this question given how busy our enigmatic server can be.

I hope you all have a lovely week ahead! 💚

Book One Launch Post💚 |TFS Patreon🌲

New, alpha content✨from Book Two is on Patreon. Last drop was on July 6th, over 105K words plus of total alpha content to explore. If you enjoyed your time in Fernweh, please consider reviewing/rating it. 🥰

#interactive fiction #reader interactive #romance games #fernweh saga #asks #reese verner #ruby verner #james corvin #jane corvin #silas dorran #sofia dorran #beckett warrick #becca warrick #tfs mal #the waitress #the waiter #who do queue think you are?

[scara-meow-che]

𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘 ┃ phantom longing with childe

CW. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader, ANGST!!!, brief mentions of having underaged sex, name calling (princess, good girl), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), marking, porn with bits of plot, a bit OOC childe, infidelity

AN. this fic used to be an old kuroo prompt of mine but childe fits this idea so much, i just can't let this go to waste. anyway, enjoy this word vomit of mine :D also i'm sorry for those who found the "kuroo" errors in this bcs i legit worked on this prompt around 2AM (　；∀；)

you keep on longing for the ghost of the past—from the rotten body of a relationship.

it was on the third tick of the minute, on the fifth desperate attempt to distract yourself from the man who sits in front of you.

time had no mercy in gracing him with features deprived of stress brought upon a successful man's life. his toned arms were a delightful sight as they flexed under a red button-up rolled up on its sleeves, a habit of his that you knew like the back of your hand. the boyish ginger hair you grew to love now framed his face with its curly long ends and he is, as crazy as it seems, still godly than ever.

nothing has changed about him, even your feelings.

"f/n-chan! aren't you at least excited to see older brother?" teucer had enthusiastically nudged at your distracted form, pulling at your arms, beaming brightly as if to blind you with that smile. teucer and the rest of childe's family never had a clue how much the lil' partners-in-crime grew something more behind closed doors, especially after the years that had passed.

"yeah, aren't you glad to see me?" childe jests, eyes carefully scanning a subtle hint of vulnerability to ever dance in your features. but, even after a few seconds of admiring your cherubim beauty, he failed to grasp any information to know how he should act around you.

"f/n, i always thought you and childe are closer than tonya here," his mom added, nodding at childe who seems engaged in fishing out what was swimming inside your pretty mind. "you two often eat out at night. ah, i remember your father fuming at the poor boy!"

and they all laugh but your heart continues to ache for the visible longing only childe knew you were feeling at the moment. he noticed, of course, he is as perceptive as he can be. but what he made out of is not the melancholic pain strung upon this happenstance because he knew the attraction left lurking in your hearts.

oh, how funny it would be if they knew that the boy who took your virginity is right in front of them. well, there's no point in telling how the comforts of your room that day were painted with your salacious moans and childe's deep grunts. the blazing passion offered, love that used to enrapture whatever force binds you with one another—sadly, everything was of the past.

how hilarious it would've been if they knew how dirty you felt because a part of you still misses his body snuggly attached to the warmest parts of yours. every time your eyes would accidentally stop to stare at his, your soul is pulled toward him. it's as if you were falling over and over again.

oh, how ironic it would be that you wanted childe far away from you but at the same time, you want him to ravish you in a way you'd be left satisfied.

just like before.

he was perfect, too perfect for your liking. once you've tasted this perfection, the polished palate of desire can no longer forget how it felt pleasurable on your mouth that it left you thirsting for more.

you shouldn't be too attached but here you are, helplessly smitten just to feel him touch you once more—to kiss you, to praise you for being his good girl, anything that he used to do before. pictures, posts, and messages, it was as if you'd been deprived of every need, starved of anything about his whereabouts that you shamelessly devoured what you possibly could get from him.

despite him being the one who ended everything, you never had the guts to hate each fiber of his body. broken promises of yesterday had crumbled down with the future you longed for. the innocence of love is a double-edged sword that you have used against yourself. and now, you continue to bleed your emotions for the man who left you dying.

food had already gone cold and bitter on your tongue that used to glaze on honey-smooth skin belonging to this celestial god who had wrapped his presence on your heart.

bitter, yes, bitter. the sharp yet addicting bite of the love harbored for him still lingers in you. maybe it was because he's your first love that still occupies the majority of your own silly heart? Everything involving his being was complete bliss—a plethora of happiness you can only feel from him.

a credulous admiration can only go far if not for the risk one can take but you choose to let go of all of your morals and logic, blissfully dancing through the danger of his song.

the first kiss shared on the first peak of daylight; the first night he laid his hand on yours as a freckle of winter snow fell from the heavens; the first dreadful goodbye whispered alongside the strong waves ebbing on the harbor; he is the first of all firsts there is and how wrong were you to give him everything.

time may have passed together with all these fleeting memories but your feelings fluttered still.

the dining hall felt suffocating, the bubbling chemistry of both longing and denial clashed when your eyes stared at his alluring blue orbs. you wanted to throw up. your head was spinning so badly. you never wanted to be stuck in this dilemma. your insides twist and turn as they continue to spit your name together with his.

tonya somehow noticed how quiet you'd been for the past hour and gave you a soft squeeze on the shoulder. the small gesture had helped you snap out of the flummoxing reverie because of an orange-haired man. and it's yet another battle to avoid his overwhelming presence.

it felt long eating with them and to make matters worse in your favor, they opted to spend the remaining hour catching up on everyone's plans for the future with a cup of hot cocoa.

as the hand of the clock strikes 7, you can hear their voices gleefully bickering and leaving a melodious chatter across the hall you settled in. the vigorous movements etched on each body around you felt slow while you washed the dishes.

"can i help?"

towering behind you, a fresh scent laced with a musky undertone of his cologne coiled itself on your quivering frame. the territorial instinct he had on your submissive body left you breathless when he lay a gentle hand on your shoulder slowly moving down to your waist.

if not for the logic gradually fogged by this attraction, you would've already succumbed to his hand and let him take you right then and there. but you stood firm, not giving him a chance to slip for him to devour the flickering courage you have left in you.

it would take him more than that but the heart wants what it wants.

"as the man of the night, he should be reserved to mingle around his family and shouldn't even be here to help." your ears picked up how soft your voice was. it always was, for him. you always have a soft spot for him.

"oh? then as the special man of the night, i won't allow my guest to even do the dishes, let alone someone as important as you to the family." were you, really?

childe took his sweet time in dominating your senses, his hand moved across your lower back up to the side of your hips. his other hand also went in to dip into the curve of your chest down to your stomach. you felt him close in the distance, your back firmly pressed against his built torso.

"p-please."

you didn't know whether that was a plea for him to leave you alone or not but when he took a good whiff of air, letting a guttural groan when you buckled close to him—a stutter amidst the calm shook all the grounds you stood and it was when you lay all your cards for him to see.

childe lowered his tall frame to look over your shoulder. the view was of an innocent gesture but hides the intent of making you yield to whatever his mind was thinking. it was unfair, it was cruelly unfair how he can control you to such extent.

"use your words f/n. i taught you better than that."

he traced delicate and sensual lines on your burning skin. you choked on your breath when you saw him smiling at you, seeing how roses flushed vivaciously on your cheeks to his advances.

"use your big girl words. come on."

oh, how did your body laid enervative under his mercy?

childe was selfish, you know he can never let you go. you were practically made for him and yet he was gluttonous just to have you putty in his hands again. just like when you two were just 16, right before he left to continue his work throughout different regions across teyvat, miles, and miles away apart from the icy land of the tsaritsa, away from you.

he wasn't the ajax who you fell in love with. you can see the little details of the canvas of his soul, colors you knew that weren't yours dominated each hue you have left behind. the art which you two have made as a masterpiece was left tarnished by another one. this man behind your back, savoring miles of skin his eyes can roam to, isn't the one who used to satiate the void you felt by warming you in your bed.

the man you fell in love with is a ghost settling in this body that you crave for.

you hated yourself, more than anything there is. you were hungry, deprived of this euphoric feeling of the past, touch-starved, guilty for wanting him to be there for you even if you no longer have the right to be claimed as his.

as everyone grew tired, retreating to their rooms, why? why did you hold him back from going to his room? why did you lead him back to your chamber? why did you let him in? why did you have the heart to let him in?

to whatever gods are out there must be looking down in at you in disappointment, but you don't care. childe had trapped your body between the door that was quietly shut close. the doorknob had hit your back but you didn't care, not when he finally molds his lips on yours; not when he firmly grips your jawline as he dips his tongue to your mouth, catching up on the years he wasn't able to be with you.

the passion in every motion, the discord in every emotion—it was there. the ghost of the man you loved was still there. and this is when you'll take advantage of it, this was the only chance you can hope on and maybe, the empty promises wouldn't be left in vain.

feather-like touches littered on your skin as childe's nimble hands raised the shirt that suddenly felt too suffocating for you. you were distracted, too drunk to think of anything else while he moves in a leg right between your thighs.

next to his actions was to skim right above the skirt you regretted wearing for this night. it was too short, you noted, enough to titillate the attention you wished from him. each pad of his fingers felt addicting like everything happening right now was like the way before. like nothing had happened; like nothing had ended; like nothing had ever torn you two apart.

you saw him smirking when he felt the soft material hanging on your hips and he slid them off with ease. his eyes were focused on you when he let his body slide down along with your underwear. and he left it there, pooled on your legs as he moved back up to tease you, to make everything in you want him.

as if you didn't already.

the crippling embarrassment had invaded your mind when childe slid in his fingers to the soft skin between your thighs, looking straight into the gates of your soul. rich and smooth blue orbs were glinting in lust, never in the idea of love. and that's when he dips in and searches through the sensitive bud of skin protruding in arousal.

"you always look pretty when you want me." childe devilishly grins as the visage of you, eyes closed and left amenable, was exactly as he remembers it before.

you bit down on your lower lip, eyes closing at the immense pleasure sent by his skilled digits finally going in and out of your leaking hole. the rushed movements, ragged breathing, and vehement waves of his deep voice resonating deeply to strum painful chords on your heartstrings—god knows you missed this but you knew how wrong this was.

this was wrong, he shouldn't do this.

the frilly lace that barely covered your dripping cunt laid idly on the floor, your legs trembled when he particularly hit one spot inside. you strained down the moan bound to escape your lips while he left salacious kisses on your exposed neck.

"childe, please, more." you don't want him to stop, it was too addicting. he knew where to exactly touch you, he always fucking knew everything there is to know about you.

you can feel yourself drip down on your thighs and covering his hands with your juices. you gripped down on his lean arms to stop how fast he was thrusting in and out of you but he was enraptured to see your cunt enjoying the attention, he can't help but fuck you more.

"see? you're taking me so good, princess. you're so good at taking me. you always do." you looked down and you saw him going up to the hilt, reaching places none have managed to. you love this, you hate this. you want him to stop but you also want him to continue. why were you so conflicted when it's wrong, this is clearly wrong, the ring says it's wrong.

but no, you wanted him. years, you have longed to feel this affection for years and finally, he's in your arms. how can you let go of him?

"you're drooling badly, is this all for me? did you miss me so much?" like the empyrean life who kissed the earth with color, childe blessed your skin with blue and purple clouds. the vainglorious spirit of this towering male screams on the name he had marked on your body.

that you were always his. that you always belong to him. that no matter how much you try, in the sea full of strangers, it's always him who you look for.

but no, no, no.

it wasn't soon when he perfectly scraped the side to look for the spot that makes you mewled and moaned lasciviously on his arms. the velvety texture of your walls lovingly squeezed on his fingers; you shake in delight, quivered in happiness, trembled along with the submission to love, and shuddered in the intimate warmth he has as your home.

you can never call him home. you shouldn't call this home.

unabated thrust and rut of his slender but thick fingers fill you up, the honey you produce pours out from your lips as it flows in the harmony of your whimpers. the slick and squelching sound your cunt produces was filthy, you felt filthy but anything for him.

bleary-eyed, hands grasping whatever surface it can hold unto, legs twitching when you feel the tight coil in your core about to snap in two, you are near the peak of heaven made by childe himself. this was heaven, yes, it was always like dreaming on cloud nine with him.

he's just a ghost of the past.

you didn't listen to the whispers buzzing in your mind because all you can focus on is the way he deliciously hit on that one spongy spot that was to die for. your eyes beamed in tears, making childe glow in pride.

he's not the ajax that you knew from before.

"you look beautiful when you cum, princess. you're creaming with just my finger then what more to my cock?" he was selfish, insidiously selfish.

but why didn't you stop him when he removes each article of clothing separating his skin from yours?

why didn't you stop him from kissing you with such fervor and longing?

why didn't you stop him from connecting himself to you?

"please, please, please, make me cum." you whispered, head moving up to get him back in kissing you. your hands were held above your head, his grip was so tight you never want it to let go of you.

"yes, princess. just stay still and fuck," and you tightened around him, his expression right above you showed how it always has been. how it should've been but what was your reason for letting him do this?

it was love, a disillusioned love that kept holding back for the ghost of the past.

"let me hold you, please." you begged but what exactly did you beg for? was it to hold him to be yours again or just this physical chemistry happening between you two?

but childe understood it as the latter, letting go of your wrist and encasing your hands inside his. one was on your side and the other was what he kissed adoringly. and then you saw it, a small piece of gold tying him down. a beautiful, gold ring.

where's the other half of the ring?

"fuck, f/n. i love you, i have always loved you." and you cried, seeing the painful expression to cross his features while climaxing inside of you, the tears coming from childe that fell on your cheeks.

the last kiss he gave on your hand and on your lips. the shaking body clutching tightly on your defeated form. the sobs escaping from his lips as you pulled yourself away. you felt empty.

of course, a ghost can never fill you in.

⠀⠀scara-meow-che © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, or repost ANY of my content

#⇲ full-streams #nsfw.txt #genshin impact smut #genshin impact angst #genshin smut #genshin angst #childe smut #childe angst #childe x reader smut #childe x reader angst

[agent-cupcake]

Éphémère

I’ve been attempting to fill short kinktober prompts with the Final Fantasy XIV cast to procrastinate the larger project I've been doing. We’ll see where it goes. Most of them are AU's of some kind idk.

Pairing: Aymeric de Borel x f!Reader Kink: Semi-public / Blowjob Tags: Explicit, light D/s dynamic, alternate universe: modern Word Count: 2.7k

“What are you doing here?” Aymeric asked, his blue eyes widening with surprise upon seeing who had been knocking. You hadn’t called, although you should have. You didn’t want to risk being turned away, to be told you couldn’t steal a few precious moments from his busy life. Besides, you had a good cause this time. 

Given that your hands were full, you shut the door with your foot. His office was the same as ever. It was not quite as grand as someone might expect, clearly inhabited by somebody who favored efficiency over aesthetics. The air smelled like him and the corporate scent of floor polish and new upholstery. While the blinds covering the windows facing Ishgard were wide open, those over the windows looking into the main office space were closed. It gave a very strong illusion of isolation and intimacy, like it was just you and him. Emboldened by that thought, you fixed Aymeric with as serious a stare as you could. 

“I heard that you’re working way too hard, and that your staff is worried about you,” you said, having decided upon a cold open approach so he couldn’t wriggle out of your accusations. “I’ve even heard that it’s putting you in a bad mood. The men are losing morale.” You waited a beat for his response, but he just looked at you, completely befuddled. Eventually, you prompted him with a prodding,“So?” 

“So… what?” Aymeric asked.

“Is any of that true?”

“True?” he repeated, his dark eyebrows pinching in the middle. “Ah, no…  No, it is not.” Aymeric finally forced a reassuring smile. He wasn’t very good at faking. “I appreciate the concern, but I am fine.” You gave him a doubtful look, slowly meandering over to his cluttered desk. There was nothing to be said, you both knew that you were right. He could try to downplay it all he liked, but even Aymeric had his limits. He sighed. “I cannot afford to take a break yet. I promise to rest once this matter is resolved. Perhaps I’ll take a day off. We’ll go somewhere—anywhere you wish.”

“We won’t be going anywhere after you work yourself into a nervous breakdown,” you told him flatly. 

“Please, don’t say such things. I promise that I will be fine.”

You sighed. “Either way, I brought you something to eat,” you said, setting the bag of takeout on the tiny bit of space left on his desk. “I had a feeling you skipped lunch.” 

“Lunch?” he asked, brow furrowing. “What time is it?”

“Past lunch.”

“I see. I must have lost track of the time, I… Thank you.” He placed a hand over yours and smiled, a real smile, and you felt your chest clench. Even overworked and exhausted, he was beautiful. Far more beautiful than any man had a right to be. “I dare not consider where I might be without you.” 

You smiled, even knowing it was a platitude. He was the most resilient person you had ever met, and one of the most solitary. Aymeric would be just as okay on his own as with you, but you liked the idea that he needed you, if only for a fleeting moment. You liked to think that there was something only you could give him, something of value. 

And, just like that, you came to the conclusion that he didn’t look like he needed a meal. He looked taut as a bow string and ready to snap, he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked like he needed a bit more than lunch. 

“Hey, while I’m here, maybe…” you began, faltering with embarrassment as you tried to figure out the best way to phrase it. 

“Is there something else?” 

“I know there’s nothing I can say to make you take a break so I won’t ask. Still, I want to do something to brighten your day and honestly you look like you could use a pick-me-up,” you blurted out, speaking fast to keep your nerve. “I’ve thought about it before and I’m pretty sure I can fit under your desk,” you said, leaning forward to double check. Yeah, there was plenty of room. Three cheers for long legs. “Think of it as stress relief. Like a massage or something but, you know, with my mouth. What do you think?” 

Done with your awkward proposition, you looked back up at Aymeric with as innocent an expression as you could manage, meeting his eyes as if you hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. It was always hard to predict how he might react to any given situation, mostly it was a question of whether or not his Catholic guilt and relentless sense of propriety would win out, but you pretty well expected the way his mouth snapped shut, a muscle in his jaw ticking as his entire body went taut. 

And then slowly, carefully, “Are you…” 

“Offering to give you head in your office at three in the afternoon on a Thursday?” you finished for him. “Um… Yeah, I guess I am.”  

“I… I don’t think… That is,” he cleared his throat, “obscenity of that sort would be extremely inappropriate for a man in my position.”

“C’mon, are you going to tell me that you’ve never thought about it? Doing secret, naughty things is the best part of getting a big, isolated office with a big, roomy desk. Or so I’ve been told.” 

Aymeric swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to the door and back. “Even if I were comfortable with such an egregious breach in etiquette, it would be wrong of me to do so while everyone else is working so hard.” 

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” you argued. “If you work while you’re super stressed out, you won’t do as well, and you act all grumpy, and everybody is unhappy. If you take a teensy tiny little break to let me help you relax, you’ll work better, be nicer, and everybody will be happy... If you need an excuse, you can blame it all on me. You can say you got lured in by the irresistible charm of a succubus who would simply not take no for an answer.”  

He let out a single laugh, dry and nervous and humorless. “Is there any truth in that?” 

“I am pretty insatiable when it comes to you.”

Aymeric reached up to take hold of your chin, gently pulling your face towards his so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. And you knew that look. Conflict. Doubt. Desire.

“If you don’t want to, I’ll let it go,” you said. “But if it would make you feel better, I want to. I’d do anything… sir.” 

Aymeric’s expression hardened, his eyes darkening a shade, and it was a stare that demanded your submission. It was the kind of look that was usually followed with orders like remove your clothes or don’t move unless I say or open your legs or-

“Get on your knees.” Even half whispered, even though he always left enough space in his demands for you to deny him if you were truly uncomfortable, that wasn’t the sort of order you turned down. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice soft. His fingers squeezed your jaw a little bit tighter, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “Yes, sir,” you amended. Aymeric released your face and leaned back, watching as you fell to your knees. Although there was enough space under his desk for you to fit, crawling under it was kind of awkward. Good thing your skirt was flared, scrambling around like this in anything tight would have been impossible. 

“Is that okay?” he asked. “Should I move back?”

“No, sir. This is…” You breathed out, steadying yourself. “Perfect.”

Knowing you had a time limit, you undid his belt and the button of his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down. Aymeric was kind enough to shift his hips so you could push his trousers down and out of the way. Wanting to savor things at least a little, you traced the outline of his dick through the dark boxer briefs, feeling him harden beneath your touch. Aymeric’s hips shifted and he cleared his throat, prompting you to slip your fingers beneath the waistband to pull those down too. 

He wasn’t hard yet, but the choked noise Aymeric made and the way his hips jumped forward when you began to stroke his cock made you think that he wanted this at least almost as much as you did. He caught himself quickly afterwards. Always playing the stoic.

You realized early on in the relationship that, power dynamic notwithstanding, Aymeric was not the type of man to demand things of you sexually, at least not for his own pleasure. There was an element of trial and error to figure out what worked. It was all pretty complicated. So was he, for that matter. Pretty and complicated. 

Continuing to stroke the base, you paid your respects, kissing and licking your way across his cock. Every inch of him was perfect, though you could admit a preference for this particular part. Perfect, and, as you liked to think in your wildest moments, yours. Alternating between using just the tip of your tongue and the flat, you traced the veins running the length of his dick, following one along the underside until you reached the head, lavishing extra attention at the point where they met. You knew that got him, one of his hands finally finding its way to the top of your head. Humming happily, you did it again before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the swollen crown. His fingers curled against your scalp, not grabbing or pushing, but very insistently there. 

Now that Aymeric was fully hard, you couldn’t help but think about what he felt like inside of you. How full, how complete you were when he fucked you. The mere thought of it was enough to make you moan shakily, wrapping your lips around his cock and pushing forward, sucking and licking enthusiastically in the hopes that he would be able to feel your arousal. Your appreciation, your affection, your adoration. 

That wasn’t something you ever told him, not with words. You knew better than to distract him with too many of your feelings. He was so busy all the time, distant in a way that often left you cold. Not because he was cruel, or unfeeling, but because he lived in service to others, to lead, there was only so much of himself that he could give. Scraps, moments, little fragments of the most magnificent man you’d ever known. And he had been clear about that from the start. You made peace with it. For such a self-sacrificing man, the very least you could do was live in his service. If it was Aymeric, you didn’t mind so much. 

Finding a pace and rhythm that worked took a moment of experimentation, getting your hand and mouth to work together. Plus, you were trying to be quiet, and clean. That’s how these office affairs went, right? Top secret stuff. Aymeric’s hips pushed forward, throwing you off. 

“You needn’t hold yourself back,” he told you, his voice slightly muffled from above. “The walls are quite thick and-” he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I know you can do better.”

You hummed in understanding, although it probably didn’t sound like much with his cock in your mouth. It was one of Aymeric’s many contradictions. No matter how neat and put-together he always was, nights with him often ended with you teary eyed and dripping with sweat, your thighs slick with cum and saliva leaking from your open mouth, blissed out and sloppy. He wanted to know that you were enjoying yourself so much that you’d be reduced to a swooning, helpless mess. And still, he insisted he wasn’t any sort of sadist. Pretty, complicated, and terribly repressed. 

You gave him what he wanted. It sounded obscene, wet slurping and your little choked moans stifled by his cock, the slick back and forth of your hand working the base, the movements smoothed by your saliva. It was already messy enough to be dripping down your chin and onto your skirt. Probably onto his expensive trousers. He had spare suits at the office though, it was fine. 

“If you’re going to hump my leg, move your skirt out of the way,” Aymeric said. Embarrassing, although he said it with a measure of warmth. 

You stopped, pulling off with a slick pop and a shaky laugh. In your haze, you hadn’t even been aware of what your body was doing. “Ss-sorry, sir. I didn’t…”

“That wasn't a request.” You couldn’t see him, but you could imagine the imperious set of his sharp features, the way his perfect lips blushed dark pink and parted when he was turned on, how his inky dark eyelashes would flutter open so he could look at you with those gorgeous eyes.

You whimpered, a sound you couldn’t help. A bit awkwardly, you hiked your skirt out of the way, shuffling a little closer so you could better grind against his leg.

“Good girl,” he murmured softly. Sweetly, using the hand on your head to pet your hair. You shuddered hard, raising your chin and opening your mouth. Aymeric met you halfway, his hips pushing forward while you moved down, your saliva-slick hand jerking him off in tandem with each bob of your head. 

Now that you were actively trying, the pressure between your legs was intoxicating. You wondered how much he could feel with the heavy fabric of his trousers in the way, if he was aware of how hot you burned for him, how wet every little catch of his breath or groan he couldn’t hold back left you. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was good. At this point, he was practically hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and you couldn’t tell who was guiding the pace. It was all you could do to sneak in a breath here and there, to remember to use your tongue, to try and keep your voice down as you well and truly lost yourself in the hazy depths of lust and need, shamelessly grinding against his leg. 

Aymeric clearly wasn’t concerned about volume control at all, the office was filled with wet squishing choking noises and your muffled moans. His breathing had become erratic and you could hear the low groans he tried to fight back. You wanted him to come. Desperately, desperately. You wanted to make him feel good, to make him relax, to narrow down his world until it was only you and him and the pleasure he could derive from you. You wanted him to throw you onto his desk and fuck you until you were screaming, to claim you because, God help you, you were his. Not just for a fleeting moment, a single afternoon, a day off, but always. Every second of every day, his. 

“I… can’t…” was the only hoarse warning you got before his hips stuttered, his hand holding your head in place as he came. You braced yourself to take it. For any other guy you wouldn’t have, but Aymeric... 

Aymeric. Every part of him was perfect, you would take anything he gave to you. 

He moaned so prettily, even if he tried to muffle it, the sounds stuttered and choked. You swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, desperate to prove yourself, to take whatever he saw fit to give you. To be his good girl. 

And then he stilled, his hand relaxing. His cock twitched in your mouth, and you pulled back with an unseemly amount of saliva. Like you thought, most of it was on your skirt. Not to mention your sore knees, stiff legs, and the lingering taste of cum in your mouth that was not nearly as pleasant when the act was finished. You needed to get up, the moment was over. He needed to get back to work. But, selfishly stealing a few more precious seconds, you rested your forehead against Aymeric’s knee, and he petted your head, and you let your eyes close. Just for a moment. 

#aymeric de borel #ser aymeric #ffxiv aymeric #aymeric de borel x reader #ser aymeric x reader #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #not sfw #this is very wholesome guys #he deserves it

[brandogenius]

could we get a fic of ya and phoebe based on what u said how phoebe is when ya is upset? maybe ya read hate comments or something happening at home and has shut down for the past week and phoebes had enough and wants to get to the bottom of it 💕

yes!!! sorry this may not be good D: i wrote this up quickly!!! AHHH

NOT PROOFREAD ITS 3AM

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT: phoebe & young artist - spiralling

word count: 915

“put the phone down”

“no.”

“kid.”

you locked the phone and threw it beside you. you gave phoebe a glare before returning to your toast. tension on the bus was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

it was obvious what going on. three days ago was the last show before a break for a bit. the break due to traveling. you were coming down with the flu which unfortunately meant your voice wasn’t in good shape. you hold yourself to high expectations, and that night wasn’t to the standards you try to achieve.

julien; lucy and phoebe all collectively knew you were spiralling. someone who found themselves on social media most of the time, searching through twitter for comments , negative and positive. hearing negative comments which were just from haters, it made you upset and frustrated. and unfortunately it seemed like you’ve been taking that frustration on the three older musicians in front of you.

it felt like everything was happening all at once. it just..wasn’t a good few weeks for you. you tried to hold out as best as you could but it seemed like the hate comments were getting to you.

“i don’t want to talk about it” you snapped. julien stared into her coffee mug as lucy collected the plates, dropping them into the sink and announcing her departure to the bathrooms. julien quickly got up too, taking the opportunity to leave and go outside for a bit.

which brought you to now.

phoebe sat across from you, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

“i can tell somethings up- and don’t try to tell me everything’s fine because i know it isn’t.” phoebe was quite blunt. she doesn’t like to leave things waiting or stalling. seeing you in distress and being upset made her upset too. angry at the people who caused you to shed a few tears late at night when you thought nobody could hear you.

“can we drop this?”

“nope.”

“phoebe..” you gave a sigh, placing your head in your hands. why was she like this.

you heard shuffling around you before arms wrapped around your frame. phoebe got up from the other side and walked towards you. settling herself onto the couch and bringing you into her arms.

“i worry a lot” she muttered, gently prying your hands away from your face. “you’re still so young and have so much ahead of you. being in this headspace and only associating yourself with negative comments does not do yourself good. trust me i know”

the older woman looked down at you with such sincerity you felt ashamed. ashamed to worry the older woman. ashamed to be in this position where she feels the need to make sure you’re ok.

you were someone who felt like you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve kindness from others. you could manage by yourself even if it came with an expense of longing for something you won’t allow yourself to have.

“i don’t want you to worry” you open your mouth to say more but phoebe beats you to it.

“i don’t care- you’re gonna have to get used to this while you’re on tour with us. i’ve seen you shut yourself out like you have when you first arrived on tour, kid. i know that’s not you.”

“these hate comments you’re getting are just a bunch of dickheads who can rot in piss for all i care. they are a bunch of losers who have nothing better to do than waste their time on the internet obsessively hating on another person who did nothing wrong” phoebe stated. you nodded your head, eyes taking interest in your lap. picking at the nail polish on your nails. phoebe continued

“our entire lives are on the internet. all our work is on the internet for everyone to see. streaming music and people posting concert clips. we’re bound to have people hate us. we can’t make everyone like us.. if it’s about the last show we did-“

“don’t talk about that” you cut phoebe off.

“i don’t think nothing was wrong with it, kid” phoebe sighed.

“i sounded like shit”

“i can tell you a hundred present honestly, you didn’t. ask the boys. they’d agree with me. you’re choosing to believe what random people on the internet think, rather than the people you preform with?” phoebe gave you a look.

you felt quite small under her gaze. like a child getting scolded by their parent.

“i mean.. they must’ve heard it live to comment right?”

“what if they didn’t?” this made you look up. “what if they didn’t even go to the show? just choosing to say shit for the fun of it. like i said, a random person on the internet who knows jack shit”

“i guess- it sounds stupid now” you felt the embarrassment creep up in your stomach. anxiety settling in. phoebe poked your shoulder in a playful manner

“there’s no need. it’s not stupid. you’re young and you have so much in life ahead of you. hate will come. there’s no denying it. we will all get hate. you just gotta be strong and not give a fuck about it. you have us behind you”

“you’ll tell us if anything else is bothering you right? not letting yourself bottle it up until you lash out. yeah?”

“yeah” you have phoebe a small smile as she ruffled your hair.

“good. i’ll leave you to it then?”

#pom writes #young artist au #phoebe bridgers au #phoebe bridgers angst #phoebe bridgers blurb #phoebe bridgers fluff #phoebe bridgers headcanons #phoebe bridgers fanfic #phoebe bridgers one shot #phoebe bridgers x reader #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot #boygenius blurb #boygenius headcanons #boygenius angst #boygenius fluff

[rayslittlekitten]

Rich Girl Mood

“Toff Girl” (aka “Damsel” Universe) Masterlist

A/N: I started writing this a long while ago but have been sitting on it because I was still trying to figure out the end game (I still am) but I'm a little closer and I think however this series ends, this chapter I think is still solid for what it is so I finally finished it. This I think gives more insight of the reader character than her relationship with Ray. Title and chapter inspired by "Rich Girl Mood" by Dounia and Kehlani (YT link below)

Rating: T

Word Count:  3,294

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!reader

Plot: Another year, another birthday party.

Contains: angst, recreational drug use, hurt, jealousy, light mentions of D/s relationship, collars, cursing

After your cryfest in your car, you cleaned yourself up and went in to see your parents briefly and sort of lied about a missing pair of shoes. You then feigned looking in your old bedroom which has become a bit of a storage closet for you. You also act surprised when they hand you the gift box Ray mentioned. You told them you would send Mickey and Ray a thank you card.

You're now back at your flat staring at the big Tiffany blue box while stuffing your face with your favorite pastries from Astrid's Cafe and Bakery. You put the mostly eaten slice of cake down and pull the shiny black ribbon loose. Of course it feels so soft. Ray probably spent a good quid on the ribbon alone. You wouldn't be surprised if it was made of actual silk. Only he would do something so extra.

You take a deep breath and finally lift the lid. This asshole even took the time to wrap your things in tissue paper? You roll your eyes and huff. You grab the small cream-colored envelope sitting on top of the neatly and carefully folded white delicate sheets. You flip the envelope open and pull the card out.

Hi love,

I hope this letter finds you well. I figured you'd eventually want your things back, especially your shoes. I know they were one of your favorites. I even took the time to polish them for you since last time you had scuffed them. There are some things in here that I also thought you should have as I have no more use for them.

Take care,

Ray

You gently tear open the tissue paper and as expected, you find your heels looking shiny as new. You see what else is inside the box and find a few things like your toothbrush, toiletries and some clothing, neatly folded and stacked in true Ray fashion. You know he had your clothes washed, dry cleaned and pressed as well, including the outfits he picked out for you. You look through them and choke up a little seeing your collars carefully placed between the perfectly folded clothing. They're all there, including his favorite, the one with a little bell on it. You tilt your head curiously when you find a small velvet box. The rock in your belly is creeping back in. You stare at it for a moment before reaching for it. You nervously grip the box between your fingers as you take your time flipping the lid open. You let out the breath you'd been holding when you don't see a ring, but instead you feel your heart breaking all over again seeing your day collar. The same one you ripped off your neck and threw at him.

Your eyes blur up for the millionth time today and you swipe your fingers over them. In the corner of your eye, you notice another envelope sticking out from under the clothes. You reach for it and pull it out. Flipping it around, you notice it's completely unmarked. You open it and pull out two business class plane tickets to Greece. Confused, you look in the envelope again and find a folded piece of paper. You pull it out and open it up.

I had planned to whisk you away for a week for your birthday, but I can't use these anymore so I thought maybe you can. Enjoy your birthday, my love.

-Ray

This isn't fair. This isn't fucking fair. Not fair to you, not fair to Ray. You don't know how much more your heart can take.

***

Over the next few weeks, you go on a date or two with Fred just to get out of your flat. You've been sulking and comfort eating and sniffing Ray's cardigan long enough. The dates were fun, but if you're honest with yourself, while Fred is a really nice guy, he just doesn't do it for you romantically. You had to be upfront with him as you didn't want to string him along. He deserved to know the truth, but thankfully he took it with ease and understood. You did invite him to your birthday party though and you know someone who would actually pair real well with him. You usually don't play matchmaker, but you think you've got this one in the bag.

Speaking of birthday parties, you just wanted something small but your parents insisted on throwing something for their only child. They do this every year, but you let them because you know it's really just an excuse for them to throw a fancy party to show off to their fancy friends. You know after the first hour or two of greeting people you either don't know, don't remember or haven't seen since you were a wee child, you're going to disappear into the garden shed to get sloshed on expensive liquor and smoke the best weed in all of England with your closest friends like you did when you all were younger. Growing up around so much money, you've always hated the posh snobby kids who thought they were too good for anyone, but you have a small group who were never like that and you always stayed close to them. Everyone else at the party can fuck off and freeload on the booze and food.

You do a once over glance in the mirror to check your makeup and hair. Your hand touches your bare neck and after a moment, you get up from your vanity chair and slip on your heels and smooth out your sickeningly expensive dress. It clings on to your every curve and dip. That’ll sure get some lookers. You still feel like something is missing though.

"Darling, are you ready? Guests are waiting!"

"I'll be right out, mummy!" you shout back.

You quickly go through your overnight bag and pull out a box. You open it up and look at the jewelry for a moment before putting it on, then take one final look in the mirror and you're satisfied with what you see. It doesn’t hold meaning anymore, although it’s sentimental to you, but it has always comforted you, feeling it snug around your neck. It was like your security blanket. It made you feel safe because whenever you wore it, you always knew Ray was close by.

Ray dominating you wasn’t just some kink. It wasn’t just about being in control, or rather giving it up. Being his sub meant he would love you and protect you deeply. It was a shared bond. He brought you pleasure in so many ways and made you forget when you had a bad day, but most importantly, he made sure nothing can hurt you. You completely allowed your heart, body and soul to be delicately encased by his own design.

You take a deep breath and polish off the whiskey you've been nursing while getting ready before putting your face on for the crowd. 

When you reach the bottom of the long grand staircase, you’re greeted by your parents and some people you don’t recognize. You plaster on a smile and shake their hands, thanking them for coming. As you walk off to go greet more people, you grab a flute of champagne and down it, placing it back as quickly as you snatched it up when a server walks by with a tray. You’re reminded why you hate these big parties.

You almost spit your champagne out when you spot Mickey and Ros. The nerve. Of course your parents invited them. You know Mickey only does anything if he’s getting something out of it so while it appears he gives a shit about your birthday and respecting your parents’ cordial invitation, he’s probably rubbing elbows with people who can be potential partners. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already negotiating and sealing deals while he’s here. You now wonder if Ray is somewhere around this giant house.

You walk over to the Pearsons to greet them with the least fake smile you can manage to put on.

“Hi, Mickey.”

“Hello, there. The woman of the hour!” Michael turns to you with a smile. “You’ve met my wife Ros, right?”

“Yes, pleasure to see you again.” You and Ros greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. She might be the only one in his posse you actually don’t mind. Her and Bunny. That gentle giant.

"Thank you both so much for coming!" You try to stretch out your smile but your facial muscles can only go so far.

"Happy birthday, love,” Ros smiles.

Although, you know Rosalind is probably on the up and up on what goes on in Mickey's world, including what happened with you and Ray. There is no way tea didn't get spilled on her.

"Thank you," you slightly bow your head. “How are you doing? Business is going well I assume?”

“Ah, let’s not talk about business. We’re here as guests, not salesmen. How are you doing?” Mickey returns the attention to you.

“No business? What a surprise,” you try to jab subtly. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

“Sweetheart! There’s someone I want you to meet,” your mother suddenly comes out of nowhere.

“Excuse me,” you tell the Pearsons. "I hope you both enjoy yourselves.”

They nod at you before being whisked away by your mother.

***

After being introduced to a bunch of random people including some suitors, you sneak off into a secret side room to get a breather. You used to hide here a lot when you were younger when you wanted to isolate yourself when everything felt too overwhelming.  Especially from these parties. It always felt so performative when you just wanted to be a kid and play with your friends, but you were expected to be prim and proper, until you were old enough to realize you didn’t have to do any of this. You still remember those long boring etiquette classes and sometimes still use the wrong utensil on purpose as an act of rebellion. 

You feel around your body and realize you left your joint and lighter in your bedroom. Letting out a heavy sigh, you savor another moment of silence before marching back out into the wild. As you make your way to your bedroom, you round the corner and smack right into a hard chest.

“Oh my gosh, I am SO…” You look up at the man and your voice dies.

"Kitten…” Ray gasps quietly to himself when he sees your day collar sitting against your neck.

You can't get away from this man now, can you? Ironically, it feels like you're actually seeing him more often than you did when you were together. Like muscle memory, you plaster your cookie cutter smile on your face and greet Ray and the woman standing next to him.

"Hi, Raymond." You mentally kick yourself for overdoing your enthusiasm.

"H-hi."

You never thought there'd be a day you'd make Ray all flustered and stumble over his words. Mr. Calm and Controlled, my arse.

"Didn't expect to see you here tonight, but thank you for coming," you say, still with your painful smile on your face. You’re pretty sure it’s going to be permanent by the end of the night.

"Uh, just here for Michael," Ray quickly comments and nods. "Um, this is–”

“I know dear ol’ Rebecca.” Both you and Rebecca greet each other with air kisses on each side of your faces. “How are you? Haven’t seen you in quite some time,” you tell her.

“I’m doing very well. My company nearly doubled its revenue last month so I can’t complain,” she beams.

“You mean your father’s company?” you clarify.

“Yes, but he made me the president of the company a few months ago so it’s really mine too,” she explains. “He’s retiring soon so I’ll be CEO any day now. Anyways, how are you? I don’t really see you around much,” she shakes her head.

“Oh, I’m just always so busy,” you reply. Avoiding the lot of you. “I was actually thinking about taking a little trip to Mykonos next week. An unexpected birthday present.”

“I hear it’s fabulous this time of year,” Rebecca says. “And the men there are gorgeous.”

“Really?” you ask curiously. “I should probably go then.” You quickly glance over at Ray to see his reaction, seeing him shift uncomfortably.

You spot Fred in your peripheral vision and instantly grab his arm, pulling him in close to you.

“Freddy, love. You remember Raymond, right?” you ask him. You look back at Ray and can see his jaw ticking.

“Oh, hey! Good to see you again, mate!” Fred puts his hand out and Ray reluctantly takes it and as soon as he does, Fred pulls him in for a hug. Ray grimaces and lightly pats Fred on the shoulder. There is some actual genuine joy behind your smile now. 

“Freddy, darling! It’s been ages!” Rebecca exclaims.

After Freddy pulls away, he greets Rebecca.

“Bloody hell, Becca! When did you get so tall?” 

While they hug and catch up, you and Ray stare daggers at each other.

“Wait, are you two dating–” Freddy starts but you interrupt him.

“Um, Freddy,” you loop your arm around his again. “I think I’m ready for…” you vaguely gesture your head, nodding in a general direction towards the garden.

“Oh! Sure, yeah. I’ll meet you there after I stop by the loo,” Freddy says. “It was nice seeing you both again. Excuse me,” he says to Ray and Rebecca before walking off.

“Well, hope you’re both enjoying the party,” you say, clapping your hands together. “Excuse me. I have something I need to do.”

You walk off, not even bothering looking back as you make your way to your bedroom.

***

“Oh my gosh, Sophie, you have to tell that story about that time we pulled that prank on Lit’le Henry. Remember Henry?” you laugh, after taking a puff and passing it to Fred. 

“I don’t think Antonia here has heard about this story.” You wink at Fred. You introduced Antonia to Fred and they seemed to be hitting it off really well.

“‘Enry was a lit’le shite. It wasn’t a prank. It was revenge,” Sophie starts.

Sophie proceeds to tell the story about how a mutual friend kept getting bullied by Henry so the group of you teamed up to exact revenge on him. It was originally Fred’s idea but in the end he also took the fall for all of you. However, Henry never dared to bully anyone ever again.

“And I’d do it again,” he boasts.

You were finally able to sneak off with your friends to go hide in the shed to have a party for yourselves. No pretending, no masks, no manners. Just laughs. For those few hours, you were able to actually enjoy your birthday. You can’t remember the last time you had this much fun or laughed this hard. 

“Oh, fuck. I must have dropped my stash when I went to the toilet,” you say when you realize you can’t find the spare joints you rolled up. “I’ll be back. I’ll also get another bot’le of wine.”

“Love, it’s your birfday. Get one of the servants to fetch it for ya,” someone jumps in.

“They work for my parents, not me. Besides, I can use some fresh air,” you chuckle before bursting out of the shed.

As you cut through the long garden to make your way back into the house, you notice Ray pacing back and forth off to the side of the house while talking on the phone.

“Yes, boss. I understand.”

When he hangs up, he looks up and sees you cautiously walking trying to avoid being seen. You nearly twist your ankle as you tiptoe around and miss a step but Ray quickly catches you instinctively. So much for trying to dodge him.

“Are you alright?” Ray asks, looking into your eyes.

You stare back for a few moments, breathless. It might be the weed and alcohol but you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and let him hold you and never let go, but your daydreaming gets interrupted.

“Oh my! Looks like someone’s had a bit to drink tonight. You always know how to throw a party,” Rebecca comments as she walks over. “Ray, I’ll be back in a few. Need to powder my nose,” she winks before walking off inside the house. 

You quickly remove yourself from Ray’s grip and straighten yourself out.

“Are you alright?” Ray repeats.

“I’m fine,” you reply and start heading towards the house.

“Wait!” Ray takes a step in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

“What is it, Ray?” You ask, now annoyed.

“Just so there’s no misunderstanding, Rebecca and I are not together. She’s just here with her parents and it’s my job to keep her entertained while her parents and Michael have an informal meeting,” Ray tells you.

“Ray, it’s really none of my business,” you shrug. "But I'm not surprised that's part of your job. I just hope she doesn't take it too hard when you're done with her and tell her to fuck off." You then try to maneuver around him but he side steps you.

“I know it’s none of your business but it’s important to me that you know. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to hurt you in any way because that’s the absolute last thing I want,” Ray shakes his head, ignoring your snide comment. “I don’t want to be at this boring party as much as I know you don’t either.”

“OH!” Your eyebrows shoot up to your almost perfectly coiffed hairline. “I’m so sorry my party isn’t dramatic enough for you.” You cross your arms under your breasts which are now accentuated by your arm placement.

Ray’s eyes begin to twitch as he realizes what he had said.

“No, that’s… that’s not what I meant—“

“No cunt to punch in the face. No damsel for you to save,” you say as you raise your arms above your head and wave them around.

“Can you please lower your voice? I was genuinely concerned for you. That cunt put his hands on you!” Ray snarls.

“It’s my fucking party so I’ll be as loud as I want!”

Ray looks around nervously to make sure they don’t draw any attention.

“You just can’t go around punching every bloke who puts his hands on me! You’re not my boyfriend anymore!” You push right past him with all your might and shoulder check him out of your way.

“Well, your actual boyfriend should have, but he left you all alone in a crowded pub full of drunk men!” Ray growls. “That would have never happened with me. I would have protected you!” 

You stop in your tracks and twirl around.

“Oh, please! You weren’t protecting me. You just don’t like seeing someone else’s hands on me!” You walk up to him and poke your finger into his chest. “Why do you even care so much? You’re the one who broke up with me.”

“I still care about what happens to you,” Ray adjusts his glasses. “Kitten…”

You start shaking your head.

“Just because I can’t love you the way I want to, the way we want to, it doesn’t mean I automatically stop caring for you.” Ray’s face and voice softens.

“No!” You growl into his face. You grunt out of frustration and rip your necklace off for the second time and throw it at him. “I don’t give a shit what you do with that. Just don’t give it back to me.” You spin around and stomp away towards the house.

#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #raymond smith #raymond smith x female reader #raymond smith x f! reader #raymond smith x fem #raymond smith x reader #raymond smith fanfiction #the gentlemen #the gentlemen fanfiction #Youtube

[thecameronchronicles]

Pavlovian Conditioning

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your agreement to tutor your boyfriend, Rafe, takes a sensual turn when you find him focusing on anything but the assignments at hand…

WORD COUNT: 2200

*Requested*

Pavlovian Conditioning

As you shifted on his bed and positioned your legs into a cross, his eyes redirected to you. Beginning at your bare feet polished and colored that pastel hue in their dainty perfection, he rose slowly to capture the tease of your thighs and the raw, usually damp core just beyond the skirt now adjusted as you crossed and recrossed your legs. His ascension continued to the curve of your waist set at an angle against his pillows, rising higher to internally commend the tightness of your chosen shirt, which complimented those perky breasts teasing him just out of reach. In continuation, the lines of your clavicle sharp with each slow inhale and following exhale which brought his blue hues focusing on the soft skin of your neck and that specific patch of skin just below your ear that made you purr. Finally, your jaw and lips, set in a content focus to the pages before you, twisting in thought, and setting on your eyes, hidden behind a set of glasses pushed up on the bridge of your nose. 

By the time his assessment of you had been complete, the faux focus he had conducted over his textbook had now altered into being completely drunk on you. That innocent face he knew secretly craved the sin only he could offer well, your curves and lines beckoning to him in the part of only a bed's edge and his limited reservation, and the multitude of positions he could twist you into was enough to bring his lack of focus to your attention. 

"Rafe…"

"Hmmm?" He asked, eyes slowly pulling from your legs as you cast a disapproving but loving cock if your head in judgement as he met your gaze. 

"Did you solve the problem yet for 2b?" 

"2b? Oh…I can't, I can't find it…maybe you could show me?" He asked with sincerity as you climbed down the bed and moved towards his workbook. But as you had set your finger in a trace to find the equation in question, his hands came to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Soft kisses placed on the back of your shoulder and down your arm made you writhe in that temporary tickle before you slithered from beneath him. 

"Rafe…I'm here to tutor you…" You reminded him. "If you have any chance of getting that D up-"

"Oh, it's up." You turned to him with a chuckle, "It always is with you, sweetheart-" You were now facing him, your legs parted by his knee as he lifted the fabric of your shirt with his thumbs before exposing your abdomen just enough to kiss from one set of ribs to the other. 

"Rafe…" 

"Hmmm?" He hummed, the vibration from his mouth having chilled your skin as you became temporarily lost in your own focus before feeling that arrogant smirk remind you of his self-proclaimed victory. With fingers soft at his shoulders, you pulled yourself away from him. 

"We have to focus-"

"You know, I read something that says orgasms help the mind recalibrate, or some shit like that…so…" He pulled you back into his lap as your arm craned naturally around his neck as his lips came to your neck. In most instances, you would have already been putty for him by just the cast of his gaze lingering beyond a few seconds. But you had a job to do if you had any hope of spending time in the same college with him. And that was reason enough to redirect your focus. 

"We need to study-"

But as his hand came to your cheek, the wide palm occupying it entirely and his fingers coming to a rest within your hair, you released that soft moan that made him pull your hip harder against his cock. 

"Maybe we should do health instead…anatomy and-"

"Rafe…" Some random burst of focus led your hand back to his chest as you motioned to the textbook and he exhaled with annoyance. 

"Well how am I supposed to focus when you're so fucking sexy?" You chuckled. "Sitting there in that damn skirt I am dying to lift up and ravage you under…and those glasses…something about those fucking glasses…" 

"How about…" As he moved to kiss you, your hand stapled him to the back of his desk chair. “I ask you a question…and if you get it right-”

“I get to make you-”

“You get a kiss…” You corrected as his hands moved up your thigh, finding correction in your own annoying focus. He rolled his eyes before slowly nodding. 

“I don’t HAVE to kiss you-”

“No…Baby, I just…God, you’re so beautiful and-”

“Flattery may work in any other instance, but I have a job to do…”

“Yeah so do I…” He pulled you tighter against him, feeling you temporarily convinced by the return of his lips to your neck. Damn this man and his ability to distract and remind you of that specific touch that was enough to break down your barriers in every instance. Suddenly, you were set between his legs, his ankles pinning your feet in such a way that it widened your thighs. 

“So fucking sexy…” His fingers were in rubbing motions to your clothed clit.

 “And SO wet…holy shit…Better be for me and not math-” You smirked before allowing him these momentary pleasures. 

“Isn’t THIS SO much better than algebraic equations and-” But to the reminder of this, your hand wrapped around his wrist and reprimanded him. 

“A correct answer and you get a kiss…” 

“Why just stop at a kiss?” He asked as you moved back to the edge of the bed, his lips pulled apart by the divide of his fingers, savoring you. His eyes rolled that sensual ascent that made your own come together in a pressed line of sexualized focus. 

“Baby, we can study after, I promise-”

“No.”

“No?” You nodded, crossing your legs, and pulling the book back over your lap. 

“Your dad and Rose are counting on me…Not to mention your future…”

“The only future I care about is the very near future when I’m between your legs and making you come for me-”

“How are we doing in here?” Ward suddenly made his way into Rafe’s room, a wide smile as Rafe clenched his jaw to yet another interruption as you were actually in favor of his presence as it lightened the lust behind your boyfriend’s eyes. 

“Perfect.”

“Frustrated…” Rafe muttered. 

“Consider yourself lucky son, if I had a girl as half as smart as her, I may not have struggled my last few years with chemistry-”

“NOT the problem…” He continued to speak lowly as you blushed to this before Ward ignored the remark. 

“Do you two need anything?”

“Privacy…” Rafe spoke a bit louder now as you cast a look of embarrassment before you gave one of apology to his father. 

“Okay…If you need anything, I’ll be in my office for the next hour…Then I’m due in town-”

“Sounds good, bye…” Rafe hurried his father away as he held his hands up in surrender and finally left you alone. 

“Rafe-”

“You want to study, then let’s study. But you have an hour until he’s gone and I’m gonna make sure you scream so loud that the dean of admissions at your new college knows how sweet you sound when you come…” You grinned, looking over to the clock before slowly nodding at this rather aggressive and even coerced compromise. 

“And number 2b?” You returned to the question at hand, having brought him back to a hover over his textbook as he would nod. Writing out his answer, you would agree in approval, slightly surprised, before feeling him bring you to his lap once again. 

“And my reward?” A dainty kiss on your lips would be lengthened by a tight grip to your hair, leading his tongue to your bottom lip, a smirk breaking the kiss, as he allowed one of his own, before pulling away. 

“Okay…And the next one?” You continued this agonizing exchange of knowledge for carnal approval, kisses deepening with each correct response until you were left in near tremors from that tease of his lips to your neck and ear, across your cleavage, and back to your mouth, until you were now the one impatient as he basked in knowing he held that power over you. 

“Okay…I think we-”

“Nuh uh…The hour isn’t up-”

“I think we’ve established you can at least get a B on this-”

“I’m striving for an A, baby…might even give you some competition-”

“Rafe…” His hand came to the back of your neck. 

“You made ME wait, sweetheart…It’s only fair…”

“Rafe…” You spoke his name in more of a pout, a downcast of your head but a lift of your eyes offering a specific look to how you’d look on your knees for him. For this, he shook his head. 

“How about for every answer I get right…I get something a bit more…fruitful?” He teased while making traces on your thigh, but before you would agree, you were turned to him in a straddle. 

“Baby-”

“Fuck me, Rafe…” His brows raised. 

“But we still have half a page-” To this, you pulled him against your lips, silencing him with this interruption.

“Rafe…I’m SO wet…” You explained while leading his hand between your thighs. 

“You think you have to tell me? I could feel you half an hour ago…”

“Please…”

“Keep begging…keep whining for me…” You purred into his ear to accommodate his request until he now pulled you over that textbook. 

“I’m gonna make you come on your precious little book…That way everytime we study, you’ll be forced to remember this…” You bit your bottom lip as he was quick to remove your panties and remove his own pants and boxers, before he was teasing your entrance with his head. 

“Rafe, put it in…” You groaned as he chuckled. 

“I have a question first…”You groaned, “Frustrating isn’t it, sweetheart…”

“Jesus, Rafe…” He smirked. 

“You want it?” You nodded. 

“Then put it in yourself…” You obliged once more, obeying him blindly, as you brought him inside of you, your mutual breathing interrupted by this. His fingers were wrapped within your hair as he pulled you against him in a deep French kiss, second hand on your jaw to pull your mouth wider. 

“Those fucking glasses…this goddamn skirt…How is a guy supposed to focus?” You smirked, throwing your head back to the depth achieved by his ambition. 

“Better be quiet, sweetheart…” He corrected while motioning to the bedroom door left ajar. 

“I don’t care-”

“You would let Ward hear-”

“I don’t care, Rafe, just fuck me!” You groaned as you were pulled from the desk, textbook falling to your feet, as you bent over his desk, hair pulled for direction, as you were penetrated once again. With one hand in a wrap at your skirt, revealing your ass to him, his second now pressed your neck into the desk, cheek turned to the side, so he was able to hear every sound. 

“This what you want? Hmm? This what you think of when you study?” He teased as you nodded. 

“Rafe, I’m-” You threatened as he hiked your leg up on the desk, slowing his motions but adding his finger to your clit. 

“You’re gonna squirt on that textbook for me…I want you to stain it with your cum…come on, make me proud, baby…”

“Rafe…”

“Not stopping until you do…”

“I’m-I’m..I’m gonna come, Rafe….I’m gonna..FUCK!” He moved faster, pounding harder into you, breathing shortening by his own actions, until that specific rush came in a sporadic gush. 

“Keep coming, I’m close!” He growled into your ear as you were lifted against his chest. 

“Ahhh…it’s too much-”

“Now you know how I feel about those fucking glasses…this short skirt…you…” You moaned as he grunted behind you. 

“Fuck…FUCK…” He groaned behind you, those snaps of his hips slowed as he basked in the acceptance and flex of your inner walls commending him. 

Turning you to face him, he would fix your glasses before pressing a soft kiss to your nose. 

“Now let me finish studying…you’re very distracting, baby…” For this, you sat on the edge of the bed as he returned to his studying, your body still gluttonous for his attention. You allowed him to return to that book, now stained with you, a smile spread wide across his face once tracing over it, before he looked to find your head slack and your fingers between your legs. 

“What are you-”

“Studying…” You flexed a brow, using your new slick to turn the page of your book as his chest rose and fell in a deep breath. A look of ‘game on’ spread across his face as you heard the front door close, rocking the bones of Tannyhill, verifying you were alone, as you realized there were no reservations now. Just unbridled passion, hormones, and the effects of an action and reward system setting into its second round…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

#rafecameron x reader #outer banks #obx #drew starkey #outerbanks #rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #outer banks smut #rafe cameron smut #rafecameron #rafe cameron x reader

[aliypop]

Anyway You Want Me: Chapter 1

(Rewrite)

Word Count: 3,015

Writers Note: I abandoned this fic, but I'm rewriting it now that I've expanded on Cecelia and Elvis, This is an au idea as stated last time! Well let us try this again

Warning: None so far except for language and historic language

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: In 1953, in Memphis Tennessee, Cecelia and her mother Denise Valmos move to Shelby County as Her mother Calpurnia's Nashville home is going through renovations, but when asked to keep a low profile by her mother, Cecelia makes friends with the quirkiest, shy, yet charming kid in class, at least Friends is what she'd call them.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

Memphis May 1953

The spring winds of Memphis blew as a pink Chevrolet Bel Air was parked in the parking lot of Humes High School. A place where this one particular student knew she wouldn't belong. Getting her books from the back seat, she dusted off her skirt, looked at her watch, and took a deep breath. Until she realized she was almost late for her first day of school, and she couldn't be late, at least not as the new kid in town!

 The hustle and bustle of everyone was different from when she lived in Georgia, where everything was a bit slow-paced. And with a mix of a few faces that looked like hers. But here it seemed she was the only face that. Well, looked like hers, and the glares she was getting had explained that very clearly. Her saddle shoes kept walking down the hallway until she finally found her homeroom. The glares and stares were harsh, but she continued inside until all eyes were on her. Whispers all around the classroom, some of the students pointing and laughing at her, 

"I think she got on the wrong bus..." 

                 "Whys her hair all like that?"

"Must have stolen that dress..." 

"Class..."

"Class..."

"CLASS!" The room was silent, 

"Class, I want everyone to meet Cecelia Shanel Valmos. She's our new student, Welcome..." 

"Thank you. You know a fun fact about myself is I like comics and-"

"Now attendance." 

Cecelia sat in the back of the Class, where a few students had glanced at her as if she carried the fleas. It was starting to get as bad as when they had driven here to Memphis.

 Tapping her fingers, Cecelia could tell this would be a stressful time. And she couldn't wait to move to Nashville with her glammy, her grandmother.

As the bell rang, Cecelia went to her arithmetic class. Her least favorite subject. But very well needed. At least, it was what Midge told her, looking over the checks she'd signed for Valmos Music and Sound. Taking her seat in the back, Cecelia had begun to read her Batman comic book. Other students filled the room, talking and chattering as she flipped the page on the Joker's crazy antics. 

"You're late..."

"S-S-Sorry, I ain't mean to be late, I just..."

" Lost track of time, Mr. Presley." The teacher sighed, following his gaze as his eyes landed on the tawny-skinned girl with dark brown hair curled up in a tall style. 

"Take your seat, Mr. Presley..."

Sitting next to Cecelia was a kid who had to be about her age. She couldn't tell, and she didn't want to ask. She figured, at this point, her breathing would cause a problem. But something about him was different, after all. He had blondish brown hair and fading black roots. And he smelled like shoe polish. He also had rolled-up jeans and loafers with pink socks, the same color as hers. 

"Is that the 3-D edition..."

"Yeah, it is..." Cecelia kept reading,

"I-I've been tryin to find that one for weeks." 

"Found it at a comic shop in Chattanooga." she huffed. She wasn't annoyed that he was talking to her, just while she was reading her comics. 

"Am I botherin you, doll..."

"A little, and I'm not your-" Cecelia looked up, seeing eyes bluer than James Dean's and a cute but crooked smile that seemed so shy yet so sweet.

"Are you okay? You're starin'?"

 "Sorry, I'm new here, and it's stressful, and I don't have any friends and-" 

"Mind if I be your friend..."

"I wouldn't mind that at all ah..."

"Elvis Presley... But u-uh, most everyone calls me, well no one calls me anything cept for Red West, who calls me E..."

"Well, I'll call you Pres." She smiled, "I'm Cecelia Valmos, by the way." she winked at him as he blushed a little, 

"I'll call you Cece..." he tried to wink back at her, but his hair got in his eyes. Cecelia giggled a bit, "I like it." she grinned. Elvis could feel his heart beat faster, trying to push the emotions aside as he looked into her hazel eyes. Finally, he might not have been so alone in the world. 

"So, favorite superhero..."

"Easy, Jay Garrick," she smirked, "What about you?"

"Captain Marvel Jr." he grinned, "Sometimes I imagine myself as him."

"Flying to the rock of eternity ..." Cecelia smiled back at him,

"Yeah."

"I used to think I was the Flash until I bumped into a wall." she snorted a bit when she laughed, and she could hear the teacher clearing her throat. Cecelia mouthed sorry as she went back to take her notes. 

"Do you understand any of that..."

"Nope..." Cecelia laughed, "But I do know. That, that answer should be 35." Elvis laughed as he changed it,

"You're a lifesaver." He blushed, his accent thick, but Cecelia found it cute, 

The bell rang again as they got up and went to their next class. Elvis and Cecelia were walking side by side, still talking. It was beginning to feel like she had known this kid since childhood, which was nicer than what she had been recently feeling.

"I love the color pink. " Elvis smiled,

"My car is pink!"

"No way!"

"It's a Bel Air." she winked, 

" You're too cool for me, Cece." He joked as Cecelia nudged him, 

"Honestly, I'm just me." she shrugged,

"Again, too cool for me, "He nudged her back as she laughed with him. 

"Say, would you care to eat lunch with me?

"Yeah, sure, I ain't got much but-"

"You can have some of my lunch." 

"Cece, I couldn't."

"I usually don't eat it all." 

"You sure?"

"Positive." 

Sitting alone at the table was Cecelia and Elvis, who were enjoying their lunch together. It was nice to know that he wasn't afraid to go against the normal and politically correct, but instead eat with someone who wouldn't bully him.

"So, how was your first day here so far."

"Eh, crappy..." she sighed, 

"The bullies stop eventually." He sighed as Cecelia looked over at him,

"Easy for you to say, I got called a teacher's pet 'cause I knew all the answers in my history class... Not my fault some of us read for fun." she mumbled to herself, "Or in my typing class, I typed over several words a minute. And yet I'm wrong... Well, excuse me for writing songs when I'm bored!" she began to get angry as Elvis looked at her. 

"At least you've passed your typing lessons on the first day." He joked, "I got a C in that, which ain't bad..."

"But it's not good, Pres." she looked at him. 

"Well, maybe you could tutor me." 

"To type? Sure." she smiled, splitting her candy bar with him. The two cheered each other with their Pepsi-Cola bottles.  

When the day was over, Cecelia went to her car as she saw Elvis walk to his car,

 "Nice 41 Lincoln!" she waved as she was next to her pink beauty. It suited her well. He thought to himself as she got in, 

"See you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah!"

Dinner was on the table, and Cecelia was doing her homework as her mother was on the phone with the electric company. This move was a headache, especially with her mother having an album on the way and getting settled into a temporary house and Cecelia adjusting to her new school for only a month. It could drive a single mother completely insane. 

"Guess what! I made a friend today, and he's really nice and-"

"Cecelia, I'm on hold with the heating and air..." 

"Right..." She continued to do her homework. She knew things were going to be different. They always had been since her father left, and her mother devoted her life to her music. And her half of the label and studio. Cecelia = sighed as she blushed, thinking about Elvis and his eyes and how she couldn't wait to see him again. 

"Mama!" Elvis nearly ran into his family apartment like a whirlwind. It had been a while since Gladys had seen him so happy after school, like a puppy waiting for a treat. 

"Elvis!"

"Pa! You'll never believe what I made in school today." he grinned as Vernon was about to guess. "A friend. Well, I think she's a friend. We shared a sandwich together, and I think she's giving me one of her comics to read-" 

Gladys chuckled. Vernon perked up. Some special girl, if he was going on and on about her like this, the last girl he did that with was Dixie, or was it another girl?. Meanwhile, to Gladys, it sounded like he had a crush on this mystery schoolgirl. 

"So I assume you'll be staying up in class more."Gladys scolded him playfully.

"And paying attention." Vernon glanced at him as Elvis blushed and nodded, 

"Of course." He rubbed the back of his head, Gladys laughing as Vernon shook his head.

The next day, all the students were back in homeroom, and Cecelia was in the back, dreaming away about her new friend and what they'd talk about that day. Would it be comics or music? Maybe books? Or after-graduation goals? But those thoughts were crushed until a group of girls came behind her and pulled her hair. Cecelia only sighed as she tried to ignore them. It wasn't like she didn't get a note in her locker that said Stay away. Well, words she'd rather not repeat. Yes, this would be a tough couple of months. She just had to make it to, 

"Oh No..." 

Her eyes caught on to several kids running with scissors in their hands. 

"Come here, fairy!" one kid shouted,

"Long-haired freak!"

"Oh, please don't let it be..."

"PRES!" Cecelia shouted, standing up, eyes on her as she grabbed her books, "Ent and I have to go use the girl's room... really, uh, quickly." storming out of the classroom, Cecelia quickly tried to follow the rest of the kids. They had Elvis cornered, with no room to escape, and there was fear in his eyes as if he'd been on death row. 

"Maybe we'll cut off those flashy clothes next." It was no secret Elvis craved the fashion of Beale Street, but it wasn't a secret that everyone else at his school hated it, let alone hated him. He could feel the blades get close to his hair, and he closed his eyes and prayed until he heard a voice say. 

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" 

Elvis looked at the crowd as he saw Red West behind him and Cecelia beside him. 

"Or what!"

"You'll answer to my fist..." Cecelia glared at one of the boys. What was she thinking was the main thing Red and Elvis were thinking. 

"Your fist aint gonna do nothing cause you're just a nig-"

POW!

The students scurried, dropping everything they had to torture Elvis. Shaking her wrist, she looked back at the two guys and sighed. She probably made it worse, and the principal would call her mother, and then there'd be a commotion about it all. 

"Where'd you learn to throw a punch like that."

"My mother taught me." Cecelia shrugged, looking at Red,

"Some mother..." Red nodded until they both saw Elvis shaking like a leaf. 

"El!" Cecelia ran over, "Are you okay? Do you need to go home? Do you wanna stay at my home..." she offered, but Elvis stood up, shook it off, and tried to laugh even though he wanted to cry and scream and yell,

 "Cece, Red, I'm fine..." 

"E, yer tremblin." 

"Like a leaf, Pres..."

"I SAID I'M FINE!" He shouted. He didn't mean to. He was having a rough day and an anxiety attack.

 Cecelia approached him, "We're just worried, is all..."

"At least let us walk you to class." Red offered as Elvis nodded. Cecelia's hand brushed against his. He blushed a little. Was Cecelia flirting with him?

"So then Superman catches him in the water!" Cecelia said as the three were walking down the hallway,

"You're spoilin' it, Cece." Elvis groaned, 

"Well, I have a TV in my room. If y'all ever wanna come by and watch it." her southern accent escaped her as Elvis had a slightly brighter blush on his cheeks. 

"Or we could go to the drive-in!" Cecelia then said as Elvis's eyes wide. He's only been a third wheel to the drive-in, mooching off his friend's french fries and whatnot. And if he did bring a girl. Then he was either making out with her, or he was super into the movie.

"I think I'd leave that up to you two," Red said as Elvis had short-circuited. Walking to their English Class, Elvis had taken in the charm of Cecelia. She was a big ball of mystery who was protective, loyal, and stood up for him after only knowing him for a day. Cecelia was kind enough to share her sandwich with him. And she was pretty to look at in her pink gingham dress. But this wasn't how you thought about a friend. Besides, he was Elvis, the weird kid with a guitar and his head in the clouds, dreaming.

"Since it's Friday, what'cha got planned for the weekend?" 

"Well, work, but I'm off at 3 p.m."

"Well, I'm still new in town, so... maybe you could show me around Beale Street or comic shops you like to go to. Or record stores." She began to ramble on as he laughed, her stomach doing small butterflies at the sound of it,

"We can do all of that," he bumped her shoulder as she bumped his back. 

"That would be great," Cecelia smiled, "Oh! You'll need my number. So you can call." Things were looking up for Elvis. He had gotten her number. And he got to hang out with her. It wasn't a date, but it sure enough was something. Besides, he spent his weekends playing football, fixing his car, or on Beale Street. Now, he wouldn't have to be alone doing it.

When school was out for the day, Cecelia rushed to her car with a now-popped tire. Kids were so cruel, but that still didn't stop Cecelia. Going to the back of her car, she rolled the spare tire until she remembered that Midge had taken the tire kit with her. Elvis walked out with Red West, talking to him about his weekend plans, and then he saw Cecelia, who looked like a pinup girl in a calendar posing with a tire, "A little help here..." She sighed, watching some of her peers walk by, 

"Could you help me here... And they walked off." Cecelia huffed until she saw Elvis, 

"Not bother you, but..."

"I caught a flat last week." Popping open his trunk, he took out the jack. "How'd this happen."

"Those bullies you were talkin about..." she gritted her teeth,

"Don't let 'em get to ya, Cece. Which ain't easy to do," he sighed as he fixed her tire, "Just breathe and imagine the good Lord pickin' 'em off one by one." Cecelia laughed hard as Elvis laughed with her,

 "Morbid, but it helps." Cecelia grinned, "Say, call me when you get home so I know you're safe, okay."

"Cece, I'll be fine." Those hazel eyes pierced his soul in a glare, 

"Okay, okay, I will."

"Good, you better, or I'll find out where you live. And I'll!"

"You'll what." He smirked. His face was close to hers and she blushed a little.

"Bug ya! to death," she smirked,

"You could never bug me, Val." He winked,

"Cece the phones for you," Denise said as Cecelia raced down the stairs, 

"Thank you, Mother." she winked, taking the phone as she took a deep breath, 

"Cecelia speaking,"

"It's me, Elvis. We're still on for tomorrow. Right? " 

"You bet we are!" Cecelia grinned, "Do you wanna meet at your job or a restaurant or-"

"My job is fine." Elvis said, "You can park your car in the front, and we'll take mine." 

"Sounds good. " she smiled, trying not to sound so giddy, "Oh, and El!" she said as if she forgot something, 

"Yeah, Cece?"

"I may have bought several volumes of Captain Marvel Jr."

"You gotta let me read 'em!" 

"Why do you think I bought 'em..." 

"Cece, you're the best." he grinned. 

"No, El, you're the best, " she smiled. If only he knew how much he was starting to mean to her, 

"Say, bring the comics. There's a diner in Beale Street we could read 'em at."

"Deal." 

"Cece, time to get off the phone."

"Let me guess your mama."

"Mhmm."

"Elvis Aron Presley!

"Let me guess yours?"

"Yeah," 

"Well, Good night, El,"

"Night, Cece."

"So who was that," Denise asked as Cecelia smiled widely, her dimples on display,

 "Elvis Presley, he's a friend from school. And he's showing me around town tomorrow." Denise only laughed a little at her daughter's reaction. She was happy to see that something made her smile since they moved to Memphis. "And is this Elvis cute..." Denise asked as Cecelia blushed a bit, embarrassed, 

"Mother!" her brown cheeks turning red, "We're just friends!"

"For now... After all, you and Anthony Rodgers were friends..."

"That was a poor judgment. Besides, Anthony's an actor." 

"Who pretended to love me to get to you." Her mother was right, but she knew that Elvis was different. Besides, he didn't know her secret. And she didn't plan for him to find out anytime soon either, 

"He's not like that."

"What's he like then."

"I don't fully know yet, but he's not that." Cecelia sighed,

"Just be careful tomorrow."

"I will, and you have fun getting Daddy to do the electrical work for the studio," Cecelia mentioned as she walked up the stairs. 

 Neither party could hardly fall asleep from the excitement of seeing the other. Elvis tossed and turned in his bed. And Cecelia was counting sheep and talking to her posters as she swooned. This wasn't a date, right? Right?"

#oc #fanfiction #new stuff #new #new series #romance #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis the pelvis #poc oc x elvis presley #fanfic #50s elvis #cecelia valmos #Spotify #series rewrite #high school au #elvis au fic #elvis x poc oc

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Thirteen.

One Friday update for you all, besties! Hope you have a lovely weekend :D

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

Words - 3,986

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

The grasp upon the top of her arm was so tight, she could feel pain down to the bone, his thick fingers vice-like, manhandling her, dragging her along as she stumbled and slipped upon the perfectly polished floor.  

That glossy marble was hard on her knees as she was thrown into a heap, turning to face him, grunting in pain when he kicked her in the thigh.  

“What’s what right there?” 

“Wh-what?”  

His hand went to her hair, pushing her head down. “That there, you blind puttana!” 

A tiny smudge upon the floor, Emma pulling the cloth from her pocket and immediately buffing it away. “I-I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry, R-Rocco.”  

“You damned oughta be.” Each stern word was bitten off from his boxy, white teeth. “Now get out there and mow the lawn, you lazy cunt. Move it!”  

His foot hitting her in the ass was the breaker of her dream, Emma sitting up with a gasp in bed. Gathering herself and her bearings, she caught her breath, at least glad she hadn’t woken in a zoned-out state and ended up in the closet or the corner. Unfortunately, she had disturbed the man who always found here there.  

“Y’okay, Em?” he muffled sleepily from within the pillows, his hand moving to stroke her back. Unfortunately, the prazosin she’d been prescribed to treat her nightmares hadn’t kicked in yet, the doctor explaining it would take a week or two, perhaps longer. At least she was on the right track with it, though.  

Thankfully the drugs he’d given her to decrease anxiety were starting to work in her waking life, which was a definite ease of emotional burden. Sudden loud noises no longer spooked her, and she was much less nervous around new people. Shouting still made her jumpy, though. Baby steps. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay now.” Sighing, she reached for the lamp, turning it on and locating her water bottle. Chugging back a few mouthfuls, she saw Guero’s hand making a grabby motion coming into her line of vision. “There you go, my little brontosaurus.” 

He snorted softly, taking a few gulps. “For someone who hisses like a demon in her sleep, you need to knock that shit off. I never know whether I should pinch your nose or call a fucking priest.” 

“Oh, so he’s comedy brontosaurus!” He tickled her for that, handing the water bottle back as she giggled. Humour. It was about the only way she knew how to deal with the nightmares from her ordeal, two months after finally escaping it. At least he indulged her in it, being a comic person by nature. Okay, so there was a fair amount of smart mouthed sass that also went hand in hand with it, but still, nobody made her laugh like Guero. 

There were also other ways she dealt with the lingering effect of her nightmares; ones that also involved something else he was very good at.  

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, after she’d turned over and huffed for the fourth time.  

“Nope.” 

Moving the covers off them, he shifted himself between her legs. “I gotta real good remedy for that.”  

He truly did, pushing her thighs apart to bury his mouth between them. She gasped, his tongue pushing through her folds, taking that first explorative lick at her. Using his fingers, he parted the petals of her cunt, licking her again, a slow, flat drag of his tongue causing her back to arch off the bed, bending elegantly like a bow. He smirked to himself, the thrill of having caused such a response with a mere two licks.  

His eyes took in her glinting hole, sparkling pink and dewy with need already, pushing his tongue within her, a cry leaving her mouth, slowly dragging a hard lick up to her clit and proceeding to circle, softly at first, making her tingle. He coaxed further exclamations from her, those responses causing his cock to harden, fast little flicks over her bud making it swell. 

“Mmm, you like that, huh?” 

“Oh, I’ll give you about a month to stop!” Her words made him chuckle deeply, gently kissing her, wrapping her clit in the soft, pillowy heat of his full lips and sucking, her nails digging into the thickness of his shoulders as she trembled. Her head spun, running her nails over his scalp as she quivered, hips softly undulating against his face, each lick at her clit like wet heat driving cool fire as he built her up steadily. 

The sensations of bliss pooling against his mouth turned his groans to gravel, eating her with more fervour, devouring every last bit of her pink, sending pleasure sparking up her spine. Her release brimmed forth, her little cries of ecstasy driving him on, his tongue lashing hard against her. It sent her reeling as she teetered and then exploded, the release washing over her, her waves crashing against his shore and leaving her breathless.   

She was still warmed to her veins with the haze of bliss when he moved behind her, hooking her leg under his arm and gliding into the satin of her pussy, Emma mewling softly at the delicious stretch of him parting her walls. Another thing she’d managed to procure from the discreet doctor were contraceptive pills, of which he’d furnished her with enough of to last until their next appointment.  

The hot, naked drag of him within her, no longer barriered by latex felt incredible, his mouth buried at her neck, kissing a constellation onto her flushed skin as he groaned faintly. Glimmers shot through her from the insanely deep punch of his cock, the pace slow and rolling, his hips quivering against her as she fluttered around him.  

For her, it was the kind of intensity that made her heart swell, bolts burning brightly in her chest. His hand reached beneath her neck, turning her head to lean his face near, nuzzling her softly before he kissed her with smouldering desire. Sex with Rocco had never been like that, but then again, since it was against her will she understood well that what she had with Guero was a million miles from it.  

What they shared was beyond anything she could have ever imagined back then.  

“Fucking love you so much, baby,” he groaned, kissing her again with stormy affection. It was the moment she’d longed for, for years and years, to have a man fall in love with her, hear him tell her that with sincerity unmatched. God, her heart. 

“I - oh fuck, fuck, fuck - I love you too, ahhh!” she cried, her voice breaking as the deep spear of his cock sent pleasure bursting through her. 

“And if that isn’t the most beautiful way for me to hear you say it, right between those pretty little moans.” It gathered momentum, swirling like a tempest, sharp little shocks skittering over them, their bodies heated and sweat slicked. A frisson of warmth pooled low in her, the sudden overflow having her crying out, her mouth breaking from his as she wailed. He followed her into the abyss of undoing, his teeth sharp at her neck, hot breaths blasting against her skin as the tight clutch of his hands upon her finally slackened.  

He lay inside her for a time, fingers trailing her breasts, kissing her shoulder as they enjoyed the feeling of their nerves still tingling in afterglow. Finally, he slid from her with a slippery pop, pulling the covers back over them, his arm tightening around her waist. She slept very, very soundly that night, waking from a long sleep at 9am, she and Guero with nowhere to go and nothing to do for the morning.  

“Why did you choose the moment you did to tell me you loved me?” she asked out of nowhere, stroking his chest idly.  

It was a question he hadn’t been expecting, Guero smirking a little with the randomness. “Um, might’ve been prompted by the fact I was balls deep in you at the time.” He puffed his cheeks out, eyes rounding as he looked down at her, the expression cracking her up.  

“Well, at least you’re honest.”  

“And so damned romantic, huh?” The playful sarcasm dripped from him, lacing his fingers through hers and kissing her hand, turning to her. “I did mean it, though. I did. I do. You’re incredible. You’re beautiful and gentle, and so much stronger than you know, too. Haven’t told a woman that in a long time either, that I love her.”  

“Who was the last before me?” she asked, skimming his collarbone with her thumb. 

He winced slightly, but offered an answer all the same. “A girl called Astrid Henry. We were together for five years before I found out she’d been fucking my cousin for the last fourteen months of it.”  

Her mouth dropped open immediately. “Who in their right mind would cheat on a guy as great as you?” It baffled her completely. To her eyes, he was the complete package.  

“Someone who was being neglected, but still liked the lifestyle offered to her from dating an outlaw. I was coming up in the club more back in Tuscon, reconnecting with my dad, too. I didn’t put her first a lot of the time. Then when I found out, me and my sparky fucking temper acted before the rational side kicked in. I should have just called it quits with her, but nah. I went and fucked her best friend, because I’m vengeful.” He scrunched his nose up, shaking his head. “Wasn’t my proudest moment.” 

She shrugged, squeezing his hand. “At least you acknowledge it. I think the person I’m slowly starting to become now I’m out from under the weight of Rocco recognises that, the need to hurt if I've been hurt. I can feel there’s something growing within me that wants to get back at him, and it’s gnawing at me that I can’t. Anyway, I’m not making this all about me. What did Astrid do when she found out about you and her friend?”  

“Threw a lamp at me,” he began, biting the corner of his lip, “because when she found out, I was piledriving the friend in question at the time. Set it up so she’d catch me doing it, wanted to hurt her as badly as she had me. It all fucking went crazy after that, cops showed up because of all the yelling, I spent a night in the cells because of it, until my dad came down and smoothed things over with the local PD. I then got one of the famed Ibarra rants for the entire journey home about not thinking with my dick. I guess he was right.” 

“From what you’ve told me, he seems like the type who’d never miss an opportunity to call you out,” she laughed, watching him nod vigorously. 

“Uh huh, the old man was all about that. Teachable moments, delivered at a billion decibels.” He smiled, thinking of his dad, the sadness that they were only just getting back on track again before he’d died stinging at his insides. Those few years they’d had at the end of his life weren’t enough. He brightened then, remembering something. “There was another thing he told me that’s always stuck, something useful.” 

“Yeah? What was it?” 

Turning her onto her back, he pinned her there, hands curling around her arms as he leaned to place kisses against her throat. “That if a woman can still get up and walk after you’re done with her, you didn’t do your job properly.”  

She raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s your aim here, hmm?” 

His mouth continued to glide, the crush of his teeth around her nipple sending a jolt through her. “Total paralysis.” 

Once he was finished railing her into the bed, she could still walk, but it was extremely bow legged and wobbly. After showering and having something to eat, they headed down to the clubhouse on foot, Axl trotting along between them happily. He usually didn’t head down of a Sunday, but Emma had reason to that day, booked in with Hank to begin a project they’d discussed a couple of weeks back. She tired of her scars, and he was the very man who could help her with that.  

A couple of other guys were hanging around, Gilly, Nestor and Bottles, EZ absconded to his trailer with some girl or another, from the sounds coming from it as they’d walked past. Hank was all set up in the corner, greeting her with a big smile.  

“You ready, then?”  

She nodded, cringing a little bit. “As I’ll ever be.” Removing her top, Hank cleaned down the area first before taking one of the two transfers he’d drawn out, making sure it hit her skin just right before placing it down. “Like we discussed, this is just to give me a guide. Anything else I can free hand, make sure every last scar is covered up.”  

He’d suggested the flowers he was placing upon her, a full colour piece of tree peonies and oriental poppies, flowers with large blooms to cover the most, the vivid reds, purples and oranges she wanted them in acting further to camouflage what lay beneath. 

Arranging herself on the table, she prepared for pain, Hank beginning with the outlines first, of which he’d told her to anticipate would be the worst. The needles hit her skin, yet her face didn’t change. He exchanged a glance with Guero, the men raising their eyebrows a fraction in surprise. She’d probably start to make some kind of noise to voice discomfort as soon as he hit bone, he wagered, but once there, her reaction was zero. She sat solid.  

“I hope you know you’re making your guy here look like a pussy right now by comparison,” he chuckled, Guero raising his middle finger. “When I put that elephant on his side, he bitched and complained the entire time.”  

“That shit hurts!” he exclaimed, Emma curling her lip a little. 

“Eh. It isn’t too bad. Kinda soothing.”  

“Soothing?” A head shot up across the clubhouse, Gilly ambling his bulk over. “Nah, you’re cheating and using numbing cream, girl. Ain’t no way anybody would claim ribcage tattoos are fucking soothing otherwise, nah. Uh-uh. It’s hell.”  

She shrugged lightly. “Hell is being held down by your throat and having red hot knives held against your flesh. Gives you a new appreciation for how cattle must feel, I can tell you.” 

At hearing that snippet, Hank stopped tattooing immediately. He’d been much too considerate of her privacy to ask exactly how she’d gotten her scars when she’d shyly revealed them to him, but hearing that sent a chill through his blood. Gilly’s too. 

“Wait, Lombardi did this to you?” the bald man asked, his forehead crinkling from the depth of his frown. 

“He did,” she hummed quietly, reaching to stroke Guero’s arm, noticing the little giveaways of his temper flaring. Tight jaw, flared nostrils. It still made him seethe.  

Gilly shook his head. “Motherfucker, doing that to a girl. What the fuck? Damn, no wonder you’re sitting it rocksteady. I’ve burned myself on hot metal before lemme tell you, I’ll take tattoo pain every time!” 

“Yeah, me too,” Hank grumbled, nodding as he looked at her. “You’re damned tough, Emma.”  

Having a couple of big, scary outlaws tell her that was perhaps the highest praise, she thought. “Did what I had to do to survive. This is why I said it was soothing. Cathartic, even, covering up what he did with something beautiful.” 

Although they had no comprehension over everything she must have gone through, they could understand that desire, at least. She sat relatively unflinching for the first two hours, all the outlines and a little of the colour done, having a few sips of water before she lay back for the remaining two, soldiering on, wanting the first half finished. 

“Can we do the outlines for my lower back too while we’re at it, or are you getting hand cramp?” Emma asked, Hank flexing his hand after putting the tattoo machine down.  

“I could, but you’ve sat for long enough today. Go get something to eat and rest.” Pausing, he then picked up the large mirror at his side lifting it onto his lap. “Ready to see it?”  

She nodded, Hank turning it around as she shuffled side on and lifted her arm. Immediately, she let out a little sob. They were gone. Every single one of them, and in their place something truly, truly beautiful. “Hank! Oh my god, I love it! Thank you.”  

He returned the hug she slid down to give him, feeling his cheeks flush a little when she kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome. Let’s get it covered for you.” One large dressing applied and she was done, Guero moving to hug him. 

“It’s dope as fuck, man. Thanks for doing that for her.” he told him earnestly with a nod, Hank smiling. Looking over at Emma, it was worth the hand cramp he’d lied about having, knowing how important it was to her that she cover up at least one third of the scars that obviously brought her emotional stress. She seemed to stand a little taller, her smile a little wider as she stood talking to Bottles.  

“I have to walk around like this now, like I’m doing the half chicken dance!” she exclaimed, holding her arm up, Bottles shaking with laughter. What a difference to the terrified young woman who’d first entered the clubhouse in Guero’s arms two months prior.  

They decided to remain at the clubhouse for the rest of the evening, Bishop and Lee arriving, ordering in pizza, beer and tequila flowing. They flowed so much, in fact, that Emma got to witness a first; a smashed Guero.  

“You gonna be okay getting him and the dog home?” Nestor asked, who had Axl lying across his lap, enjoying the belly rubs he was receiving.  

Emma turned to view Guero, him and Gilly near cry laughing at something Bottles was telling them, her guy collapsed on the bar. “Not too sure,” she replied, before calling out to him. “Honey! Can you walk?”  

“Pfft, course I can, hic, walk!” he yelled through a loud hiccup, sliding off the stool onto his feet, wobbling. “M’drunk, not, not... th’thing where y’can’t walk.”  

She shook her head, resting a hand to her brow. “No, but he’s definitely the thing where he can’t talk.” 

Nestor snort laughed as he reached to squeeze her arm. “I’ll help you get him back.” Guero protested this, yelling that he was ‘habsoltey, hic, fine!’, Nestor shaking his head and steering him away from walking into the doorframe. It continued along the twenty-five-minute walk back to the house, Guero entertaining them if nothing else. 

“Baby, be ready. Cuz’ imma, hic, smash the hell outta you when wh’home,” he proclaimed, turning to Emma with a huge, dopey grin, Nestor moving quickly to prevent him from walking into a streetlamp. 

“Bro, the only thing you’re gonna smash is yourself. Eyes forward man,” he advised. 

“You can’t tell me whadda do!” His roared words filled the mostly desolate street, Emma in soft fits as she walked, Axl trotting along obediently at her side. “Gonna go bone the living fhuk outta my woman!” 

He continued to behave like a complete liability for the rest of the journey home, stumbling up the drive, their return heard by the local all-seeing eye next door.  

“Fuckboy hammered outta his mind, yo!” Tyrone yelled, his high-pitched laugh sounding as he emerged from behind the curtains. Immediately, Guero’s face lit up. 

“Tyrone! Whassup, bro?” he beamed, steaming across the lawn at full, drunken stampede.  

“Oh Jesus. Apply brakes man, slow down... woah!” he cried, scream laughing as Guero heaved himself up and then promptly vanished through the window rapidly, landing in Tyrone’s living room with a loud thud. Emma and Nestor couldn’t breathe for their hysterics, walking over, peering in to see him lying on his back laughing, Tyrone hissing with tears running down his face. “Fuckboy be all up in here with his bad gymnastics. You scored a solid two point zero for the window vault, my man! You okay, bro? Fuck!”  

"M'great! Window vault was at least a, hic, seven, holding out on me, Tyrone!"

The big man continued to laugh, wheezing hard as he turned to Nestor and Emma. "I know I give the mofo' shit, but I love this guy so fuckin' much! He the damned best when he hammered!"

Guero finally peeled himself off the floor, grabbing a handful of chips from the bag and shrugging. “Love you, too, big poppa! Gonna go score higher in the sexy ghymnhast-hics!”  

Tyrone continued to hiss laugh. “You ain’t doin’ shit other than passin’ out!”  

“WATCH ME!” he roared, spraying a mouthful of chips everywhere before vanishing from the room. Emerging through the front door and slamming it behind him, he stumbled over to Nestor, holding his face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Love you, Sacagawea. Later!”  

His words were followed by another hiccup, Emma thanking Nestor for his assistance and saying goodnight to him and Tyrone, surprised to see Guero actually manage to get his key in the front door and slide inside, almost toppling over. Oh, god. After unclipping Axl from his leash, the dog moving to curl up on the armchair, she ventured through to the kitchen, finding Guero raiding the cupboards.  

“Love, what are you doing?” she groaned softly, a packet of soup mix hitting the floor with a thud.  

“Need instant choffee.”  

Confusion creased her face. “But you don’t like instant coffee.” 

“Need it! No time to, hic, do choffee macheeeen! Makin’ my dad’s sober drink. Called in the, hic, resurrector.” He paused, burping, giggling to himself and muttering something undecipherable. “Well, m’not gonna be properly sober, but it wakes a dude up.” He continued his searching, finally finding it, hiccupping again. He poured a frightening amount into a mug, putting water into another and taking it to the microwave, putting it on and then staggering to the fridge.  

“An egg, hot sauce and Red Bull?” Emma inquired, raising her eyebrow.  

Guero turned, grinning. “Trust the process. Ten minutes and m’gonna be alive aghain.”  

She expected the process was going to make him throw up, if she was honest. Watching him concoct the disgusting sounding remedy, she felt ill just imagining the flavour and texture of it. Guero paused, taking a deep breath before knocking it back. Immediately, he heaved.  

“Bathroom, now!” she ordered, pointing in the direction. “Really, honey. I can’t deal with cleaning up puke.”  

He held his finger up, heaving again, swallowing hard. “Ten minutes.”  

“Are you going to be alright if I go shower? I’m too hot.” 

He beamed. “Damn right, y’are. Leave it on cold f’me.”  

She left the bathroom door open, anticipating a thud she’d have to go and collect him up off the floor from, showering carefully around her fresh tattoo. He entered the room about five minutes after she’d left him in the kitchen, singing to himself as he brushed his teeth. Remaining unconvinced of the process she was meant to trust, she exited the shower, switching it to cold, Guero climbing in.  

“MOTHER FUCK, that’s freezing!” Well, he sounded less slurred. Still, though, the expectation was for him to hit the bed and pass out. What she didn’t expect was a steadier looking Guero to enter the room, whisk the covers off her and hum with approval. 

“Spread your legs, baby. Lemme see that pretty little pussy.” Doing as instructed, she pulled her legs splayed, her knees touching her chest, Guero’s grin widening. “Mmm, fuck yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”  

Her day might have begun with a nightmare, but how it ended was anything but.  

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[lqtraintracks]

I know what you are thinking: Oh my god, her again ;)

but I am only here for the word excerpt game ;) Would you do one of those for me please? :)

gentle

name

star

I’m thinking no such thing! <3 Thanks so much for the words! I chose ‘name’ and I’ve included the whole first short section of Entropy to Ecstasy, aka the rimming fic. :D Smut under the cut:

You don't even know the name for this thing you want to do to him. You don't even know that it has a name. All you know is that, one detention, you snap.

And it starts.

You say something rude to him, because you're Draco Malfoy and he's Harry Potter, and that's what happens. One moment you're polishing a centuries-old Quidditch Cup and he's washing windows with that angry swipe, the squeak of his rag abrasive to your ears. The next breath, you're in each other's faces. He's got you backed into a wall, his wand in hand but not pointed at you. No, he learned that lesson sixth year. The guilt still swims in his eyes, mixed with fury.

The kiss startles you both. You hadn't meant to. Despite countless wank fantasies, you were never going to do this.

But you are doing it. And he lets you. He parts his lips, and you're ruined.

You turn his back to the wall. The clatter of the wand striking stone echoes through the room, then his hands are on you. He's pulling you in, and the deep well of pain and joy you've hidden inside ignites.

Your nails scrape down his neck, down his chest. He groans against your lips. You're unfastening his trousers and falling to your knees. You take his cock in your mouth but hold his hips and don't let him thrust. You suck his thick cock with tears threatening your eyes, and so you shut them.

When he comes – and it's fast – he's practically crying, too. You swallow like a slag and disguise how much you like it. You grimace even as you lick the taste from your lips.

You know you should stop now.

But then he looks down at you, all drowning green wonder and shame. You let those thousand fantasies push you to stand. You're both still panting as you wrench his trousers and pants down, and angle him over the banquet table. Potter grunts, and you expect a rejection. But when you do it – and you didn't even know you were going to until you're down there behind him – he sucks in his breath, his body going momentarily stiff, retracting… and then his muscles go beautifully lax. His arms spread wide and grip the edges of the table, and he lets you open the twitching flex of his arse.

He lets you taste him, one small lick at a time. And with each moment he doesn't hex you, you get bolder. It's not long before you're angling your face to get deeper, and that tight whorl of soft skin starts to relax, and you hear an undignified growling sound – and it's you.

You glimpse Potter's cock between his thighs; it's hard again. You lick down, down, find his bollocks and suck them warm into your mouth. You shove your hand into your pants, the other grasping the back of his thigh. Potter reaches, feels, and then grabs your hair. He pulls you back where you were. You oblige, suddenly fighting the urge to smile, to triumph.

You both groan when your tongue slips inside.

You don't even know the name of this thing you're doing to him. All you know is that, in precious few moments, it will end.