#i luv my mixed girls and my light skinned girls

[anime-villian-irl]

Okay but - but light skinned Hermione

Black Hermione Granger who is light skinned or mixed. Cause there that one line in hp that went "Hermione's pale face got paler" she wasn't white she was just light skinned and Harry was shit at describing skin tones. Also luv to all my light skinned and mixed queens. Your so valid!

#harry potter #hermione granger #black hermione #light skinned #light skin #mixed girls #i luv my mixed girls and my light skinned girls #me personally im caramel boarding on light but 🫣

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

Hiii. Please write something with Billy Russo. Your choice but please some fluff 🙏🏻

Hello Luv, here i go with your request, thanks for sending it my way <3

"Pretty Face Like You"

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy wait for you to arrive to your usual place, finally deciding to give in to his feelings for you.

Warnings: Alcohol, cuteness



The air is filled with the smell of alcohol, sweat and various perfumes mixed together. All type of people sitting around, noisy truck drivers playing pool, girls in bachelorette uniform shirts giggling every damn time his eyes swift over them, depressed lone wolves lining up at the bar stools. On second thought, he might understand the flirt the ladies give him, he indeed looks like one of those lonely guys, waiting to be snatched up by someone. Couple of months ago, he wouldn't even wait for one of them, he would be at their table, stealing the spotlight for himself. But right now, he's just waiting for you to put your pretty ass down on the chair next to him, and devour him with your presence. He's been glancing at the entrance too many times, expecting you emerging any minute. He acts like you are late, but he arrived early, there is still time before your scheduled time, but he can't help the nervousness that forces his eyes towards that door all the time.

He ordered your drink already, knowing by heart what you'll have, in the meanwhile trying to stay away from his own drink, his fingers playing on the cold bottle to distract his brain. He wants to chug it down to ease his nerves, but he can't be drunk when you arrive. So his sips are subtle, just for the taste really.

He sees the bartender looking at him, pity in her eyes. She surely thinks he's being stoop up. Billy can sense her intentions, but is still slightly taken back by her offer.

"You know, a pretty face like you shouldn't spend the evening alone. I close at 2 if.."

He feels a light breeze next to him, unable to stop the smile creeping up on his lips.

"I'm sorry love, traffic was a pain on my ass." You say sweetly, your hand signaling your arrival on Billy's shoulder, your palm pressing down as you help yourself up to the bar stool. It's a simple act, but nevertheless it makes his heart throb in his throat. Anything that serves you he would give happily and willingly.

His head turns slowly, the playful smile plastered on him, excitement coursing through in his veins. How can someone feel so much at the same time? He is nervous, excited, happy and giddy, scared and terrified. Every fucking emotion is toying with him when he looks at you.

You smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. Oh you think you saved him from the unwanted attention, eyes scanning the bartender. He can see flashing something on your face, a slip of your facade, only for a brief second before you regain your usual soft look.

He swears he can see his future in your eyes. Now the thought not as scary as the first time it happened. And not as cringe. It's a thought belonging in romcoms, not in his head, but that doesn't make it go away, he's no longer opting to remove it either.

"Hey." He gives you a side hug, electricity shocking his skin when your face meets with his. You smell delicious, fresh out of the shower, he thinks. Wearing the perfume he likes so much, now lingering on his own clothes. "Arrived just in time."

"Uh, i'm sure it would have been terrible to be snatched by the pretty blonde for the night." You tease. Billy knows it's your way to find out if you stepped over the line. With his dating habits, you never knew when to interrupt, and when no to. Billy visibly shift of the thought, you seeing him mingle with women he cannot even remember. It's ridiculous honestly. He can't recall the times you have seen him flirting, but he can vividly remember every damn occasion you got male attention.

"Oh, i enjoy the look on her face way more than i would enjoy a night in her bed."

"Uhum, she was utterly baffled." You smile, more to yourself really, putting your glass to your lips. You hide away, behind your casual actions, to prevent him to see the tremble in your hands, or how you rub your palm against you denim jeans. But he sees everything. Nothing goes past him, giving him the feedback he's yearning for. That you are just as smitten with him, as he is with you. He's been looking for the signs, the clues. The ones he ignored or took as a winning when it came to everybody else.

"Let's make the most of it then." Billy just does what his heart tells him to. He grabs your barstool, pulling you with it awfully close. Your eyes widen, and it's the most adorable thing he ever witnessed. You are so clueless and awkward, but it is what he's living for.

"What are you doing William?" You say, merely a whisper, a whisper he's not sure he heard, his focus is on to repress his grow that forms in his throat at the feeling of your body flush against his.

He sees your surprised face under his half lidded eyes, already ecstatic from you. He's not hiding it anymore. The fear of you denying his affection is gone with every little doubt he had. Your sparkly eyes hungrily roams Billy's face, eyes to his pink tainted cheeks, right down to soft lips, tongue darting out, licking his upper lip. You are so caught up in the moment, you forget to hide the awe on your face.

Billy will forever lock this image in his memory, you are bare in front of him, beautifully confused by his actions. In this fragment of time, he knows exactly how a wedding band would look on your finger, and how your kids will inherit that spark from your eyes, and he would never it to say it out loud how much he cares about you. Past William Russo might would have laughed at himself, thinking it's a naive thing, a soft thing to feel this way about someone, but in the midst of his dangerous life, he can see himself find some relief in you.

"Billy," You ask, still shocked, pretty doe eyes looking up at him under dark lashes. He focuses on your lips, ready to take a leap of faith, and trusting his instinct about you reciprocating his feelings.

You just let it happen, frozen to your place, his kiss soft and demanding, giving and taking, a moan of satisfaction bubbles between the two of you when you kiss back. And oh my god he is the happiest man on earth. He wants to stop, but it's hard when you are so sweet and irresistible against his body, the heat growing inside him a like a wildfire.

If you don't break the kiss, he would have continued, not a care in the word who sees you. But you are embarrassed, cheeks flushed crimson red, shifting nervously on your seat. You look around, but all he sees is you. You are at the edge, your brain trying to overcome the awkwardness and the confusion. He gently pulls your chin towards him, a comforting and warm look in his eyes.

"Darling..." He starts, but you interrupt him with a quick peck, unsure but a kiss nevertheless. He smiles brightly, cocky even.

"Oh that look, Russo. Don't make me regret doing that." You say with a regained confidence he knows and loves.

His palms in the air, acting like nothing happened, but the grin is more apparent than ever on his handsome features.

"I don't know what look you are talking 'bout." He murmurs into your skin, causing a tremble in your body, goosebumps decorating your skin. "Can we get out of this place, love?"

All he needs a nod from you, sweeping you up from your seat, leaving the unfinished drinks with lovesick giggles.

#billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #billy russo oneshot #billy russo

[sunflowersteves]

SIN SUNDAY YOU SAY BABES???? look, look, look i just keep thinking about eddie munson and having to stay quiet even as he destroys you. you can't tell me he doesn't like to use his fingers as a makeshift gag.

witch aunt my beloved!! YESS SIN SUNDAY!!!! luv u <3

smut below!! semi-public sex, praise kink, mention of somnophilia kink, domxsub, 18+ only

you were scribbling in your notebook on break, the family video most likely empty since it was a week day.

it was a peaceful ten minute break until eddie practically bursts down the door and presses you up against the wall.

you let out a gasp, the brick stinging against your shoulder blades. eddie just smirks, pulling his lips close to your ear, “oh, baby, don’t act like you aren’t surprised. you were the one that left that polaroid on my nightstand this morning.”

oh. last night, when Eddie had already gone to bed, you took his polaroid camera. you took many pictures like one of just you in your bra and one with your matching lace down below.

you knew that Eddie would hate when you left for work in the morning so you scribbled a little note on the back and put it on the nightstand.

a little gift for you until my shift is over xoxo

“couldn’t wait until your shift was over. i need you, now, sweet girl. I-I need to feel you—” he’s hurriedly pulling down your jeans and underwear—letting out a whine at the wet spot that glistens between your legs. you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about all the things eddie did to you last night to past the time during your slow shift.

you’re unbuckling his belt, mouth agape as his hard cock slaps against his lower stomach. “f-fuck, pretty girl—” he’s lifting you up to his waist, hips holding you in place so he can line up his cock with your aching hole.

He rutted into you, a low moan cascading from his lips. “s-shit, look at you, sweet girl. my-my fuckin’ good girl, takin’ my cock like that.”

your hands are gripping his shoulders tight—almost shouting eddie’s name into the depths of the break room. he just felt so good—filled you up so well and deep. you had literally had sex the night before but you can’t help to just drool again at the pure sight of him. “f-fuck, you gotta be quiet, pretty girl. you—you gotta—fuck—be quiet. Don’t want harrington to come in here seein’ you all desperate for my cock, do we?”

at the pure mention of being caught, your eyes shine slightly beneath the cheap fluorescent lights. Eddie’s grabbing your cheek, thumb rubbing against your soft skin, “oh, you’d like that, huh? you want steve to watch you gettin’ absolutely fucked silly by me, huh? by your sweet little boyfriend that fucks you so good.”

you whine as he’s moving his hand to rub circles onto your clit, juices from your hole mixing together as one. “Eddie—please—I—fuck—”

his brown hues lock with yours, a shit-eating grin upon his lips, “well, that’s too bad. no one will get to see you like this today, sweetheart.” he’s feigning his mockery—knowing damn well that your fantasies are his.

But before you can reply with more begging, Eddie’s fingers are stuffed into your mouth. “So if you can’t keep fuckin’ quiet like I asked, I have to make you.”

you whimper against his digits—tongue swirling across them and savoring the sweet taste of cigarettes and some of your own slick. “there you go, baby, that’s better. you’re all quiet for me now, huh? pretty girl with my fuckin’ fingers in her mouth.”

you feel the rings against your tongue—cold and metal-tasting against your taste buds. you can’t help but moan against them and almost choke at Eddie pressing his fingers deeper.

his cock feels like it’s pressing even further inside of you—over and over as your pussy clenches hard. “fuck, you gonna come like this? Yeah, that’s it, pretty girl. Can-can feel you fuckin’ squeezing me. I want you to come, baby—yeah, there you go. that’s it. F-fuck, I love you—”

#sin sunday༊*·˚ #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #smut #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #witch aunt🌙💜

[angxl-m]

"Can't Handle It?" R. Zoro x Black!(F)Reader NSFW

MINORS DNI, ty

⚠️Warnings⚠️: dom!Zoro (hes a lil mean), switchbutmostlybottom!(Y/N), alcohol use, weed use, spitting, teasing, light spanking, light choking, pet names (slut, whore, girl, baby, mama) degradation but throw some praise in there, overstimulation(a personal fav), dumbification, fingering(f), oral(f&m), PnV, and the creamiest of pies

Reader has a fat ass 🤷🏾‍♀️

Really just some nasty sex to ease the Zoro brain rot (Pre-time skip Zoro if it matters)

Song Recs (please listen i luv sharing music <3):

It’s my first post and took me way too long, but enjoy luvrs 🫶🏾

Zoro always considered himself a patient man, regardless of the truth of the statement. As Zoro to Zoro, he was, at very least, tolerant. He’s a swordsman, it’s his obligation to be calm, collected, both at ease and alert at all times.

So for the sake of everything holy, he wondered, why- how, you managed to rile him up in all the best fucking ways.

It was infuriating.

The swordsman could practically feel his green hair singeing when it came to the thought of you, his mind working in overdrive trying to process how your hair could be so pretty while your mouth was so damn big.

Always challenging him, you weren’t stronger, that was for sure, but just as fast and with a solid sense of direction. You two were almost as bad as dartboard brow when you fought, but to Zoro you were just so fucking attractive.

His heart would race in the blue moons that you were around and totally calm, when the two of you found some sort of peace. And in times like that there was always liquor involved.

~

The Straw Hat Pirates had rented a small group house for a few days on the outskirts of a town on some island Luffy and Nami had decided to dock at. It was a quiet, very laid back town where everyone simply went about their business.

Turned out to be the perfect place for the crew to dock and give the Thousand Sunny and their sea-worn skin a break.

They sat on lawn chairs around a campfire in the open land behind the house, it was early morning, just breaking into 2 a.m. Nami, Luffy, Chopper Usopp, Sanji, and Brook had already fought and lost the battle to sleep and were tucked into their rooms for the night. Zoro having carried Luffy and Chopper inside.

Only Franky, Robin, you, and Zoro remained, chatting over the fire. Zoro and Robin were drinking sake while you and Franky drank Black Label Whiskey, all the bottles were acquired in the town by you and Nami as a little treat.

A delicious haze filled your head when you sipped the drink in hand, ‘the only thing that could possibly make the night better’, you thought, ‘would be some weed.’

Your shuffling broke the silence of the group, attracting their attention as you rifled through a backpack at the side of your chair.

“Stop making noise, woman.” Zoro grumbled, opening his eyes to glare in your direction.

Your rolled your eyes without sparing him a look, “Bite me”

Under other circumstances you would’ve had a much snarkier remark, but honestly, you couldn’t be bothered to feign annoyance upon finding two pre-rolled joints in the bag.

Smiling in success , you just so happened to miss the way Zoro’s eye widened at your words, his lovely asian glow intensified by the infiltrating thought of actually biting you.

That plush bronze skin that he knew smelled of cocoa butter and sweet almonds. Zoro’s gaze raked over your figure, strong thighs spilling out of your shorts, sun tanned cleavage shimmering with the flickering campfire. You had looked too alluring all fucking night.

Fuck, he felt like that Ero-fucking-cook.

Robin exchanged a knowing look with Franky, both of whom had witnessed Zoro’s reaction.

“Hey guys, found some pre-rolls in my bag. Down for a smoke?” Your voice filled the air.

Zoro grunted in acceptance, quickly taking another swig of his drink. It’s not mixed, just a tall glass of sake since Nami insisted he not drink from the bottle “like a savage.”

Robin offered you a playfully loving look, “Oh you know me so well.”

(Mommy Robin smokes do NOT pwm)

“I’ll take my leave here, I’m sure a few hits will take me out anyways.” Franky admitted, a loud yawn proving his point shortly after.

You three said your goodnights as the cyborg made his retreat to a comfy bed.

The chairs were spaced pretty decently apart, so you moved to take a seat on the grass between Robin and Zoro’s spots. You handed a pre-roll to Robin, allowing the woman to use her devil fruit power to reach a hand to the fire, effectively lighting the perfect roll.

Robin took a few quick pulls, dragging the light past the twisted end of the paper, before handing it off to you and starting the rotation.

“This,” Robin cleared her throat from a particularly harsh hit, “is some good shit.” her eyes were low and red, the lazy remains of a smile gracing her features.

Zoro nodded in agreement as you passed it to him.

“Have a little faith madame, who you know smokes more than me?” you spoke.

“Sanji.” Robin’s answer was quick to make Zoro snicker earning him a jab at his leg.

“Cigs don’t count, I’m bout to take my spliff back.” you huffed an empty threat.

Said woman only got up from her seat and patted the girl’s head, “You win (Y/N), you’re the biggest smoker. Thank you for the cyph.” The dark skin girl sprouted a victorious smile.

“However, I will be calling it a night, that Sake was a little too good.”

“Goodnight Robin, you’re always welcome to the cyphs~” You waved her off as Zoro grumbled a goodnight.

The second spliff was quick to light before you found perch on the arm of Zoro’s chair, making the rotation easier.

Another comfortable silence ensued, Zoro sneaking glances at the way the fat of your brown thighs splayed against the wooden furniture.

He was lost in thought, considering how your shimmery skin would look under the strength of his fingers. The poor man was so lost that he didn’t realize how long he had been inhaling until his lungs started to prickle and burn.

You looked over to the swordsman, curious as to why the spliff hadn’t returned yet. There he sat, face contorted and straining, before he began to cough and heave.

(if u ain’t choking, u ain’t smoking 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Grabbing the spliff before he could drop it, you clutched your stomach with laughter. You couldn’t help it, his face was just too funny.

“Fuck -hack- you” he grunted with effort, leaning backward in the chair to catch his breath. You turned, now sitting criss-crossed on the wide arm of his chair, a knee coming to rest on his ridiculously toned bicep.

“Man you wish! What? Can’t handle it?” you taunted, taking another drag. He turned his head with intentions of telling you off but was hit with your chest being pretty much level with his line of sight. On top of your usual sweet scent were the alluring notes of liquor and Zoro fucking loved that smell. It felt so raw and personal, to be up close to someone, drunk off of their intoxication.

His red eyes were trained on your face, a facade of annoyance at your words.

You eyed him back, secretly relishing in the heat of his skin against your own. The dramatic light of a slow dying fire accentuated his features so well, you couldn’t help but stare, eyes flitting from detail to detail.

Both of you had achieved a comfortable level of crossed, but in your inebriated state it definitely felt like you were much more discreet while admiring him.

You were brought back to reality by the feeling of your jaw between his fingers. “You sure it’s not you wishing for it?” Zoro’s voice was low, eyes lidded as he pulled your face level to his own.

The motion sent the first of many tingles down your spine. It’d be a lie to say you haven’t been thinking about him all night.

The subtle flex in his thigh when he shifted his legs wider, how his shirt would raise with every stretch, revealing little green hairs below his naval. His devilish tongue and how it would run up the back of his wide hand when sake splashed out of his cup.

You were much more aroused then you thought you ought to be. His words were tantalizing and your cheekiness won over as you slid from his side to straddle the man's waist, throwing the smoked out tip (the degradable kind) of the joint somewhere on the grass.

You leaned in to him, determined not to go down without some bite back, and offered a lick to the shell of his ear. Your action snapped him out of the pure shock of you in his lap, crotch so close he could almost feel your heat through his clothing.

“And if I am the one wishing?” you purred, hands coming up to caress the junctions between his neck and jaw.

You could feel Zoro’s hands on your waist, they were so thick, strong, holding you perfectly still against his body. “If I am the one thinking about you? Dreaming about just how good I could fuck you,” a hum reverberated in your throat, “What would you say?” you pressed your groin further into him, leaning back to bat your lashes.

Zoro huffed through his nose, a smirk taking over his dreamy features, his left hand sliding to grip the sides of your throat, “Then I would tell you how in over that pretty little head you are.” Alcohol lingered on his breath as he spoke, “How you’re not ready for me to fuck you.”

An airy laugh of disbelief bubbled from your constricted throat.

You had slept around a bit in your years before joining the crew and nearly every time you had sex, you were the one doing the fucking. You had men and women alike losing their minds, so it was amusing to you how bold Zoro had become.

Said man frowned at your reaction, his hold on your neck tightened and he pressed his hips up, which in turn sent a fleeting wave of pleasure to your core.

“You and that fucking laugh, (Y/N).” he all but growled, the intensity of his voice startling you. The way your name had tumbled off his lips had you subconsciously holding your breath. Zoro’s hand moved back to your face, squishing your cheeks a little hard. “So.. mocking, so.. condescending.. somebody’s got to pound that cockiness out of you.”

“Hah- you can fucking try.”

Zoro’s head tilted slightly at the challenge, observing your face for a moment, his eyes wandering, he looked deep in thought. After a second or two, his face was crashing into your own, your gasp was muffled by his lips when the swordsman kissed you. You kissed back as soon as you registered what was happening, grabbing his head, already trying to pull him closer.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth, licking against your own muscle until you reciprocated, which didn’t take long. Your tongues clashed but there was no way you were winning this time. The man quite literally fought battles with that tongue.

Teeth clacked as you took hurried breaths between kisses drowning in the taste of liquor. Zoro’s tongue wrestled yours until your jaw began to ache before drawing away. Deep breaths mingled, eye contact simmering with a drunken passion much deeper than either of you realized at the moment.

Always at each others throats for one stupid reason or the other, it had taken a while for either of you to realize how well one fit with the other. So similar yet just different enough to compliment each other.

Your hand ran through his coarse green curls, “Zoro” you mumbled softly, thumbs rubbing slow circles into his temples. The tip of your nose grazed his own as he exhaled a shaky breath. He couldn’t remember the last time you said his name with anything but annoyance or taunting, it was exhilarating, it made his heart pound.

Your lips were so smooth on him, tongues coming to brush against each other again. The kiss was so telling, your arms wrapping around his neck, it felt as if you craved him with your whole soul. Every part of you wanted every part of him.

Zoro’s battle-worn hands ran up and down your side, briefly exploring the plains of your clothed ass before gripping the bottom of your thighs. He hummed with pleasure at the weight of them, pulling you impossibly closer yet removing his lips from your own.

One of his forearms secured itself under your backside before he stood up. You didn’t even wrap your legs around his waist, didn’t need to with the way Zoro had you pinned to his muscular body. You could feel the hard ridges and angles of his sculpted figure.

With his other hand he picked up the two bottles of liquor left outside before making the short trip into the house.

In the meantime your lips found work on the expanse of his neck and broad traps. You licked, kissed, and sucked as hard as you could, determined to leave traces of your presence, a little ‘(Y/N) was here.’

Zoro opened the door with a free finger and quickly made his way to one of the rooms in the far back of the house, locking the door in the process. He grunted when you nipped at his earlobe, tongue massaging the skin behind his piercings. You loved the way the cold metal felt against your face, those earrings were the very first thing you noticed on him and the feeling of them had your pussy clenching.

He placed you down on the bed, now seeming even more massive in front of you. You stood quickly, pressing a heated kiss to his mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck. Your hands made quick work of his vacation button up, allowing you more space to kiss his searing skin.

Zoro’s hum was content, grabbing his bottle of sake and taking a few heavy drinks, allowing you to kiss down his figure.

A hand ran lightly down Mihawk's scar on his front before stopping at his haramaki. He pulled it off quickly alongside his shirt, giving you access to his well defined v-line.

You were fucking drooling, it wouldn't be a surprise if you found of out he was the personification of some god, so dangerous, defined. . . delicious. His extensive training was rewarding in too many ways.

You tugged experimentally at the waistband on his shorts, looking Zoro in the eyes when you turned to him, pushing the man to sit on the bed as you sank to your knees. The sight of you so willing to stuff your mouth so full with his dick made Zoro the hardest he thinks he's ever been.

Zoro raised his hips, shimmying out of his pants, bulge even more prominent now, straining against light blue boxers. When he slipped those off too you’re eyes went a bit wide. The man was big, nine inches long and about an inch thick.

His cock slapped against solid abs, a slight curve to the left with a prominent vein on the bottom. The trail of short green hair that decorated his tanned body was in full view and that's when you decided that this must be the best sight in the world. You licked your lips, eager to get a taste of the precum squeezing from his darkened and excited tip.

Gently, you took the base of his dick in hand, leaning it towards you as you collected spit in your mouth. You let a glob dribble down to lubricate him while the green-haired man stared into your eyes.

Before you could move to put your lips on him, he was quick to tilt your chin up, the quarter full handle of whiskey in hand. You opened your mouth, tongue stuck out as you let the man pour liquor down your throat.

You drank eagerly, grabbing Zoro’s wrist when he went to pull the substance away, forcing him to keep pouring. You tightened your hold below his waist, gulping down the liquor and reveling in the burn against your throat.

‘It’s a trailer for the main event’ you reasoned with yourself.

“Fuuuck.” Zoro groaned at the sight, finally placing the bottle down somewhere you couldn't bother to acknowledge.

You licked your lips, smiling up at him the second your tongue finally met his cock, a quick breath left his lips as he studied your movements. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his hot, mushroom-y head, slowly starting to jerk your wet hand up and down his length.

You could hear Zoro's breathing get heavier and it only worked to excite you more, taking his tip into the warmth of your mouth earning a hiss from the divine man before your. Your tongue circled him as your hand increased the speed and pressure of its movements. His dick slid so comfortably in your hand, it didn't matter that you could barely get a proper hold.

An encouraging hand fell to the back of your head, tangling into the wild mane of curls that Zoro oh so adored.

You were surprised at his gentleness, not comprehending how realization had hit him like a truck the moment you lowered yourself between his knees. Here you were, (Y/N) (L/N), the woman who managed to frustrate him to no end, who took over both his active and unconscious mind, who's thought had him whining and finishing himself with an embarrassing vigor.. was right here. Fulfilling a desperate fantasy of his just as eager, maybe even more so, than he was.

With every jerk of your hand, you took the man deeper into your mouth, the first soft groan dripped off his lips and you hummed with some pride. The vibration from your throat caused Zoro to grip at your hair, his back hunching over as the pleasure of your tight lips built higher and higher.

It was a struggle, fighting back your gag reflex, but you successfully covered his entire length, your hand now massaging at his tightening balls.

"Fu-uck your so good at this," Zoro's voice broke slightly at first. His demeanor had changed when he could feel his abdomen clenching, almost painfully, grappling with the conflicting pleasures of leaning back and letting you work his cock so wonderfully or fucking that cute little face.

He chose the latter.

Zoro pulled your head halfway off of him before pushing you back down, ensuing a startled moan and the swallowing of your throat around his heavy cock. "You're such a fucking whore, sucking this dick down your throat. Just can't get enough can you?" he leered, heavy eyes narrowed in your direction.

Your eyes glistened from your efforts as you looked up at him in horny surprise, you could feel an unbearable wetness between your legs from the dirty way he spoke to you. You were the one to drive people insane with your words, but you had to suck it up for now considering his dick was currently plugging your throat. Wet squelching sounded in the room, spit bubbling at the corners of your lips as Zoro began to use your mouth much faster.

Your arousal was rising exponentially as Zoro's strained grunts and cusses became louder and more frequent. They were so guttural, rumbling straight from his chest, you couldn't help but moan out on his cock, slurping and gargling as he face-fucked you to his likening. Your eyes rolled back and spit coated your chin, the feeling of your wet throat fluttering around him was sending him closer and closer to that edge.

He didn't want to cum down your throat, at least not tonight, and you knew that. Zoro tugged at your hair, a half-assed attempt at pulling you off, but your eyes returned to his own, brows furrowed in genuine agitation as you swatted at his hand. You would just have to make him cum again is all.

Taking the reigns, you began to viciously deep throat the swordsman, your hands balanced on the tree stumps he had for thighs; pressing your tongue against the sensitive spot at the very base of his cock and dragging it up before slamming your nose back into curly green hair on his pelvis. "Sh-shit (Y/N), fuck." Zoro groaned out above you, his breaths labored while his hand fisted your roots with a delicious burn.

"Mhmmm" you struggled to moan around him, his balls tightened in your hand and with a few more bobs of your head Zoro was spurting hot streams of viscous cum right down your throat.

You pulled your head off of him with a final harsh suck that had him shuddering, looking Zoro in his lustful eyes as you swallowed his load. He tasted good, a little sweet, salty, and tangy, pretty much everything about sucking Zoro's dick was proving to be both fun and rewarding.

With one last kiss to his sensitive tip, you raised to stand up, the movement of your jeans adding a bit of friction to your neglected core.

Zoro's eye followed you, hands coming to rub up and down your exposed waist as he caught his breath. Carefully, you pulled the cropped tank-top over head, discarding it somewhere in the room. Zoro's fingers fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, popping it open and pulling the zipper down.

You peered into black pupils as his hands tugged on the waist of your bottoms, he had to put in a fair bit of effort to get the material over your behind, "How'd you even get into these?" Zoro wondered more to himself than anything, marveling at the way he could see the sides of your ass jiggle from the front.

Sure Zoro had been with his fair share of women, a few men, but not a single one had captivated him the way you could. They didn’t even come close.

On top of that, only once the man finally managed to get your pants down to your ankles did he notice the soft, bright green, thong-like underwear and black lace bra you were wearing.

A low whistle streamed from Zoro's lips as he eyed you like a full set of weights, he twirled his finger around, "Spin for me," he said, somewhat as a suggestion but you smiled, turning a full 180 and looking back at him over your shoulder. His fingers traced patterns over your hips, your backside his center of attention before you turned back to face him.

"This f’me too?" he tugged at the elastic of your panties, the hue was a close match to his hair, plus, everyone knew that green was his color. Obviously.

You winked, crawling on top to straddle him once more, your wet core pressing against his hardening cock through the fabric. "Maybe they are. I was hoping you'd be taking them off for me."

Zoro groaned into the air, pressing his hips up into yours, his hands on your waist pulling you down. The pressure made you hum with delight, but before you could start to grind on him, Zoro was quick to roll over.

“I did say I’d be the one fucking you.” he pointed out with nonchalance, finally able to admire your form underneath him. Your legs were open, loose around his hips in your drunken confidence, giving Zoro the perfect sight of a little wet patch in your underwear. His thumb pressed on it making you jump a little, he chuckled and teasingly swiped his thumb up your slit.

Looking back up, he saw you had already taken off the bra, tits sitting pretty from your propped upper body. Zoro used his weight to pin you to the bed, his mouth quick to find your own, the kiss was strong and sloppy and left you out of breath as he proceeded to leave a wet trail up your jaw and down your neck.

You took a sharp inhale through your nose when Zoro’s callused fingers grazed over a nipple. It was so uncharacteristic, you thought, how gentle he could be with your body. You were expecting it rough, fast, animalistic… regardless, his touches left you spinning.

Prayers answered, Zoro’s pinches became stronger, making you mewl at the attention he paid your breast. Bites littered your now sensitive chest and upper shoulders as his mouth attached to your aching bud. Soft breaths and sighs flowed from your abused lips, waist squirming in neglect.

You moaned when he sucked, beginning to bite at your flesh. Zoro wanted you screaming, begging, whining under his hands, only to prove that you can’t handle what he can do to you. And trust, the motherfucker is gonna get what he wants.

Realization settled in when his precise wet tongue rimms your nipple, “Fucking tease,” you hissed your words coming out as more of a moan than you had hoped for.

Zoro rolled his eyes at you, letting his gaze traverse your skin as he leaned his weight onto his knees. The clapping sound of his slightly cupped hand coming to smack your pussy forced a struggled moan through your whole body, jerking further up onto the bed.

“Needy slut.” he quipped back, following your hips as his thumb pulled the panties to the side. Zoro’s dick pulsed at the sight of fat lips connected with your glossy essence. His thumb broke the seal of your wetness and the poor man nearly came at the way you leaked all over his finger.

“You’re too wet for your own good,” he chuckled with a hint of genuine admiration, thumb swiping over your entrance, pressing down hard when he found your clit. “Nngh~!” you moaned out, eyes nearly rolling back at the sudden sensation. His other hand grabbing his sake to take a long drink. “You’re not going to be able to take what I can give you, sexy little thing.”

“Oh please” you rolled your eyes with a huff despite feeling yourself tighten up involuntarily “You’re always so fast to talk so grand of yourself.” you keened slightly when you moved your hips against his finger.

“And when’s the last time I didn’t prove it?” Zoro smirked, an evil glint in his eye. The man didn’t give you a chance to even consider an answer before his face was on your pussy. Zoro’s thick arms wrapped around the fat of your ass and thighs, his weight stretching you open, barred out for his viewing pleasure, brown folds glistening in his face like a pretty glazed dessert. He stuffed his nose into your clit, hungrily taking in your scent.

‘Maybe’ you thought, ‘I am in over my head.’ Your face flushed a purple-ish hue, attempts to close your legs proving fruitless versus Zoro's brutish strength. His tongue hurriedly slid into your entrance, the tip just barely filling your hole. He wiggled around, collecting your juices, pushing them to smear over your clit.

A huffed breath left your lips as Zoro's show really began. His trained tongue was sturdy, unwavering in the way he ran tight circles around your bud. "O-ooh my god," your hands flew to grasp at his short, mossy hair in almost no time. The pressure of Zoro's tongue was unmatched, jaw well trained to endure hours of battle, inadvertently making him a pussy (& booty) munching god.

If there were two things Zoro loved, it was drinking and pussy, so being pussy-drunk, of all the ways to experience you, was right up his ally. His tongue was hot and wet, laid flat to engulf all of you before going back to poking and fucking into your sopping entrance. "Z-zoro!" you whimper-cried, no longer able to hold back, every technique he tested on your pussy building onto the last.

Your breathing was labored, you could feel random muscles tensing and straining from the intensity of Zoro's mouth on you. All of the people you slept with had to really put in work to make you cum, but this seemed to be second nature to Zoro, as distant pleasure began to knot in your abdomen.

He was better than your fucking vibrator.

Your pretty moans rang in his ears and he couldn't help but rut his length into the mattress beneath you two, groaning right back into your heat at the stimulation. Zoro popped his mouth off your cunt with harsh a suck to your clit, he wanted at least a glimpse of your face ‘If she sounds this beautiful she must look even better.’ was the general train of thought.

Zoro raised his head slightly, his black eyes narrowed from the angle as he caught sight of your flushed face, mouth parted with tousled hair, your chest rising and falling unevenly. And he was correct, you looked down right ethereal.

A whine bubbled in you at the loss but you were immediately shut up by his tongue back on your clit, rubbing and flicking shapelessly with a new vigor so overwhelming you could immediately feel your walls clenching. He then wiggled the tops of his ring and middle fingers into you, finger pads pushing up at the flesh of your heat.

The vibration of his own grunts were heavenly against your sensitivity, "Mmhmph! Zoro I-" The desperation in your voice caused him to fully thrust his thick fingers into your gaping pussy. The sensation had your back arching in his iron grip, shoulder blades digging into the springs of the mattress.

Your fingers laced together in his hair, pulling his rapid tongue even harder against you. "Z-Zoroo-o” a drawled out pornographic moan ripped from your throat, eyes nearly popping out of your skull. “O-oh, my, god.” your words were gutteral, cut with every gasping breath you could manage while Zoro bullied his fingers in and out of you.

“Look at you, such a dirty girl taking my fingers like that.” The man’s smile was devilish as he shifted up a little to watch your face scrunch in ecstasy. “Gonna cum on my fingers baby? You gonna make a mess of these sheets for me?” Zoro’s voice was low and gravely, the alcohol in his system causing him to speak every thought.

And the alcohol in your system had you submitting to his every word, you just couldn't find the willpower to go against him when he was treating your pussy so painfully good. He was so dominating, igniting every nerve along your skin, you nodded hurriedly at his question, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed as he suffocated you with his presence. “Uh-uh” Zoro shook his head, doubling down his efforts and pistoning his digits into you, rocking the bed with his movements. "Gonna have to use your words mama,"

You clenched around him hard, feeling pleasure pool in your knotting abdomen. You were a sucker for pet names and he was unknowingly feeding right into it. "Zoro!" you cried out in his grip, your body running from the intensity, "Zoro Zoro I'm gonna-!"

He brought his tongue back to lick sloppy lines all over your clit and the area surrounding, he held you in place with one arm, your body in too much ecstasy to fight back. Zoro's ears were met with a ringing cry, "Zoro! I'm cumming!" your legs trembled in place around his neck, nails digging into his scalp. Zoro sucked lightly on your clit, drawing out your orgasm as you continued to cream all over his fingers and chin.

“Mm, you taste better than I thought." He crawls up to lay a chaste kiss on your bitten lips, eying your chest as you try to regulate your breathing. "That was so good," you admitted in a state of post-orgasmic delirium.

"Was?" Zoro questioned, his mouth closing in on your own, trailing you into another breathless, crushing kiss. You could just feel that sly-shit eating grin on face as again he locked your lower half in his meaty arms again with a speed you forgot he possessed. This time he pushed your legs up almost like a mating press. His thumbs were hooked into the backs of your thighs, fingertips on the bed, the force of his hands more than enough to render you more or less immobile once again.

Your hands grasped at the sides of his head, tugging it between your calves to press a heated kiss to his mouth. You moaned softly against his lips, tongues wet and hot against one another.

Your heart raced in its place, you couldn't do anything but stare, frozen in drunken anticipation as he glided back down your golden figure, hazy, sex driven eyes locked on your own with that billion bounty smile.

Both knees were pinned to your shoulders by his massive hands alone, broad arms stretched up to lock you in place. “You said you could take it, right?” Zoro mused, there wasn’t even time to contemplate his words before Zoro’s forefingers came to cling behind your waist. The man proceeded to lift your entire fucking body into the air. Immediately his hot mouth cupped the whole of your pussy, angling you such that the only way to balance was with your core on his face and your hands clutching at his hair.

Zoro’s tongue reached far deeper into your sensitive cunt than before and there was nothing you could do but try to accept the overwhelming pleasure he poured into you. A coarse moan ripped through your throat as his tongue began to move rapidly against the wet surface of your pussy. Your core clenched and burned with the effort it took to stay up straight. His nose nudged and bumped upwards against your clit sending an addictive pleasure throughout your figure.

“Zo- Zoro-!” your overstimulated cries were as desperate as he was relentless. The sight of his firm arms supporting your weight coupled with the feeling of Zoro’s menacingly strong tongue licking and stretching your poor little pussy out made it impossible to ignore the white pleasure that blinded your nerves with zero warning.

“OhMyGodZoro-! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Your climax hit you full force, and you whimpered beautifully into the air. You glanced down in your struggle to regain breath, eyes widening at the sight of Zoro’s face, neck and even shoulders soaked. There was a successful glimmer in his eye. “Squirter and a creamer” he grinned, the movements of his lips against your sensitivity made your face bloom with heat and your body twitch in his grasp. “Put me down” You huffed out breathlessly and rolling your eyes at his comment. The pressure of his structured face on your core was not aiding in the recovery from your second orgasm of the night.

“If you insist.”

You could feel his sinister intent as soon as he shuffled to lock his elbows under your knees, securing his large hands around your waist Zoro held your body against the surface of the bed. Your fingers digging into his forearms as he lifted your lower half into the air.

A hoarse moan of his name drew his attention to you, your hand ran down the length of his arm, fingertips brushing at his lips, still wet and shiny. It was your attempt at getting him slow down if only for a second. Zoro’s face drew a wide drunken smile as he folded you slightly to press a kiss to your wanting mouth. Emotions were all over the place what with your body singeing with pleasure and his need to make you feel good. His kiss absolutely melted you, body relaxing into him.

Zoro studied your messy, post-orgasm face with satisfaction, he held your sexy, arched body such that the tip and underside of his hot dick was running up and down your slit with the movement of his hips. You groaned, you could feel your pussy blooming to finally take him despite being licked raw minutes before.

He let a bit of spit fall onto your pulsing clit, adding to the feeling of your wetness against his cock.

“What’d ya say?”

Zoro’s voice had your lidded gaze pulling off his pretty dick to his face. “Hmm?” Your voice was tired and strained and the emptiness of your needy hole was wearing your patience thin. “What, do you, say?” he repeated himself slowly, your confusion chipping at your arousal. “Zoro-“ your attitude was quickly resurfacing, the swordsman could hear it in your voice.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, interrupting your attempt at protesting by filling you completely with his dick. He wanted to keep you this cute and submissive, at least until the end of the night. “Oh fuck” there were stars in your eyes with the way Zoro stretched you out, a beautiful pressure emanating from your core. An unfiltered moan erupted from his chest and made you clench hard on him.

“The answer was please~” His hips drew back before pushing into your plush walls with a seductive roll of his waist line. Zoro could admit he was showing off a little, but the way you openly ogled his figure between your legs and moaned with unabashed lust at the sight made him all the more eager to undo you on his dick.

A deep hum reverberated in his chest as he continued to offer long strokes to your quivering pussy. “Z-zoro~” desire dripped off your tongue and your legs stretched wider with an addictive burn. Zoro raised a brow, continuing his just too slow pace. “Little slut, acting like you want more like you weren’t just pushing my face away.” Your face ran a flushed shade of purple at his words, the way he treated you was dynamic and had your already inebriated mind spinning in the best way possible.

Zoro picked up his pace, his eyes catching yours, daring you to look away from him. Both of you knew you couldn’t, even with your eyes nearly rolling back from the way he was fucking you. Hips snapping, pussy squelching with the aftermath of his tongue, his dick was filling you up so perfectly. There was a burn in your stomach when Zoro’s hands squeezed tighter at your waist, your own scratching at what you could reach of his broad shoulders.

There was a stutter in your voice and your body jerked at his intensity. “Mmmh, Zoroo~ Y-you’re gonna make me cum againn” you drawl out to the man. Zoro’s lucid motions were unfazed.

“Then cum.”

The way his gaze burned solidified Zoro’s demand. Your eyes actually rolled back this time as your body was proving itself to be his to command. You came hard again, Zoro fucking you straight through your third orgasm. Your whimpers were a few octaves higher as he allowed your lower half to hit the mattress, pushing you down into a mating press. Dick still in you Zoro actually started to sped up.

“W-wait Zoro-“ you tried to plead with him, you could feel your body falling into a numb yet increasingly pleasurable tingle, it was too much. “Wait?” Zoro slowed down just a little, body curling over yours, nose pressing into your cheek as he tried to drowned himself in your scent, “for what?”. Your face reddened and he bit back a smile as he felt you growing flustered.

Zoro’s hips still sliding in and out of you, “I-“ he thrusted sharply watching your eyes threaten to cross at the sudden sensation.

“You…?” he teased, returning to a slow pace that he could feel was getting you impossibly wetter.

“Zoro! It’s too much!” you whined out in frustration, tears beading at your lash line. Your arms were now around his neck, clawing at the expanse of his upper back. “Aww, what happened baby?” he cooed, Zoro’s lips were at your ear as he picked up some speed,

“Can’t handle it?”

You couldn’t even remember having said those words to him earlier, but there was a victoriously cheeky smile on his rugged face when you shook your head fast. Tears rolled onto your plump cheeks, a strangled moan escaping your lips when you fully u understood that he was not finished with you yet.

“Zoro ple-ease!” the tone of your voice was desperate, for more or less you couldn’t tell.

“One more mama, j-just gimme one more.” his voice was lustful and slurred as he began to piston his dick right into your g-spot, balls slapping against your ass. You choked his name out as legibly as possible, your whines and moans were pitched and short of breath as you felt your eyes losing focus.

Zoro marveled at the sight of you, pretty curvy body smushed under his weight, there was spit dribbling from the corner of your mouth and your eyes crossed threatening to close. A slap to the side of you ass just barely had your attention back on Zoro as he rose to his knees after stealing the air from your lungs with a kiss.

You were so tight and warm around him Zoro knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thumb rubbed fast circles into your clit earning a high moan of his name. “Mm such a tight fucking pussy,” Zoro growled out, committing to memory the way you mewled and your body trembled.

He used the corner of his palm, right under his thumb, to brush away stray tears on your face. “You’re so pretty like this,” he gasped, hips stuttering at the way you gripped him from the praise.

“Z-zoro,” his name seemed to be the only thing coming out of your mouth and he was enjoying it to its fucking fullest.

“Fuck (Y/N)…” Your green haired wonder was breathless, mesmerized by the way sweat glistened over the hickies he left across your chest. “Fuck,” Zoro’s thumb moved faster, body leaning back in so to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You grabbed the side of his jaw, pulling him down to kiss you, whimpering into his mouth Zoro felt your body quake harder.

“Go ahead, baby,” he managed to grunt out between powerful, erratic thrusts. With a final moan of his name against his lips you were squeezing almost too tight as you gushed and spasmed around his cock.. “Fuck!” Zoro leaned his weight on his elbows, his body relaxing over you as he spilled into your pretty cunt.

A light groan was pulled from your swollen lips when Zoro pulled himself from you, he watched, biting the inside of his lip, as a mix of you both leaked onto the curve of you ass and down to the bedsheets. It made him wanna fuck you again.

Your breath was shaky as you tried to regulate yourself. Zoro rolled, the skin of his back finding relief against the cool sheets beside you. You could hear him breath deeply through his nose, knowing his eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping.

A few moments of silence were followed by Zoro watching with one eye as you shuffled slowly on the bed, reaching over his head to grab a still-open bottle of liquor from the bed stand.

He licked at your titty you didn’t realize had been hung over his face, your body tensed for a second and you couldn’t really fight the smile that graced your features despite smacking his head lightly. You leaned on your side, facing Zoro with one arm propping your head up. He turned slightly to face you, a hand coming to trace shapes on your still trembling hips.

He grinned at the fact, watching as you drank a shot or two.

“I told ya you couldn’t handle it.”

———————

hehe, thx for reading :)

#zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #one piece #zoro smut #one piece headcanons #zoro headcanons #x female reader #one piece x female reader #black female reader #smut #first smut

[viastro]

since we were eighteen | xu minghao

ミ★ synopsis: in which you break up with your boyfriend to confess to your best friend, but he brings another girl to the party.

ミ★ genre: kinda angsty, some fluff

ミ★ warnings: does alcohol count?

ミ★ word count: 1,897

ミ★ pairings: minghao x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! it’s been awhile since i’ve posted a oneshot. quite literally caught lackin luv! i dedicated a lot of my free time into finishing my sm!au, you were beautiful, so that i can start working on other stuff without having to worry about it. i’m also going through finals, and tomorrow is my last exam for precalculus and then i’m done! i’ll be trying to post a lot more oneshots, and i’ll definitely be trying to work on my requests again. this is a really long note uhhh am so sorry luv x. i hope you guys enjoy this one! 

You stare at him from across the room, drunkenly admiring his lopsided smile when he laughs. He turns his head and catches your gaze, and you turn away, now looking up at the ceiling as you listen to the loud music around you. 

Mingyu’s parties are typically known to be the one that everyone on campus wants to go to. However, you can only come if you’re invited. Lucky for you, you’re best friends with the thirteen heartthrobs of Seoul University. Typically you’d be hanging out with your boyfriend right now, probably watching him play beer pong or playing one of those typical party games. 

But you’re lying alone on the couch as everyone around you dances, quite tipsy, borderline drunk. You broke up with your boyfriend of three months the weekend before. You realized you couldn’t stay with him when your heart belonged to someone else, it wouldn’t be fair to him. He was surprisingly alright with it though, even patting your head and telling you it’s okay when you started crying at the fact that you’re a horrible person for hurting him. 

“It’s okay yn, I knew.”

He even told you to go for it, assuming a while back that the guy you loved had feelings for you as well. Yet here you are. Laying on the couch by yourself, tipsy, in love, and alone with your thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. 

“God. This is pathetic.” You mutter to yourself, watching the colorful lights dance and hearing the sound of cheers around you. A certain laugh catches your attention, and you slowly turn your head to see Minghao laughing at something the girl he brought to the party said. Now pouting, you look away from the girl when she begins to cuddle up to him. 

You close your eyes, mind fuzzy as you blindly reach for the soju bottle you placed beside the couch. You frown when you grab something that’s definitely not a soju bottle, and you open your eyes to see you holding onto Jun’s leg. He gives you a smile, patting your head when you groan and cover your face with your hands. 

“You wanna sleep in Mingyu’s room until Hao can take you home?” You shake your head no, and Jun lets out a small sigh. He nudges you with his knee until you finally look at him with a glare, and he motions for you to sit up. You groan, moving so that you’re no longer laying down on the couch. Jun sits down beside you, taking a sip of his Coke as he takes in your miserable appearance.

“I typically associate you with being a happy drunk, but you look really sad tonight.” You turn your head to look at your friend, and you let out a tired laugh. You look at the other side of the room, finding Minghao and the girl engaged in conversation. His fluffy blonde hair is parted down the middle, emphasizing the soft look in his eyes as he stares at her attentively. He’s wearing an oversized gray shirt, with ripped blue jeans that he designed himself on a whim. 

Jun follows your gaze, letting out a sad smile when he finds who you’re staring at. He lifts up his hand and covers your view, and you slowly turn to look at him. The two of you don’t exchange any words, you just rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes which allows a tear to fall and drop onto his shirt. 

“You know, he really lo-”

“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear anything.” You mumble, just trying to find solace in Jun’s familiar scent that’s now mixed with alcohol. “I just think you should talk to him.” 

Your eyes open once you hear the girl’s laugh again, and you glance over to see her basically throwing herself into Minghao’s arms as she laughs. You glare, and before you know it, you’re standing up and stumbling over. Jun’s eyes widen and he follows after you, attempting to put a stop to whatever you’re about to do, but you slap his hand away. You only pause when you’re right in front of Minghao and his date, and he looks up at you with a small smile on his face. 

“Hi yn.” 

“Yn, let’s go.” Jun mutters, reaching for your hand again and you harshly pull it out of his grasp. You stumble slightly due to your lack of balance, and Minghao immediately stands up to rest his hands on your waist to steady you. You freeze at the contact, looking up into his eyes to see him staring at you already.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, let’s take you back home.” Minghao tells you, eyes glancing over your red cheeks and glassy eyes. He lets go of your waist, turning to the girl and telling her he has to bring you home.

“Why not just have one of your friends take them? We were having a great time.” She says and you shoot her a glare. Minghao shakes his head, “Yn matters more to me than a great time. I’ll see you around.” 

And with that, he grasps your wrist softly and takes you in the direction of the front door. The two of you pass your friends, and they break out into giggles at your obvious drunkenness. It’s when you and Minghao step out of the house and the cold night air hits your skin that you let out a whine. 

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“We just need to walk to the mailbox to get to my car and then you won’t have to walk anymore.” Minghao responds, practically dragging you now. 

“I don’t wanna.” You say once you’re closer to his car, and he chooses not to respond to you. Continuing to pull you in the direction of the mailbox. You fling your wrist out of his grip, and he turns to you with a confused expression on his face. 

“What is it?” 

“You’re annoyed that you have to bring me home right?” Minghao rolls his eyes, shaking his head ‘no’ before reaching for your hand again. You take a step back and cross your arms. 

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. Yn, it’s cold and you’re not even wearing a jacket. Let’s go to my car, mm?” You shake your head, looking up at the stars. Minghao lets out a sigh, taking a few steps closer to you to just pick you up and you stumble away from him. 

“Yn.”

“No.”

“Listen, I know you’ve been upset about the breakup but-” He stops when he hears your chuckles, and he raises an eyebrow at you. Your chuckles slowly turn into a laugh, until they turn into tears filling your eyes. 

“I’m not upset about the breakup.” You mutter, and Minghao tilts his head to the side in confusion. You look back into his eyes, and his expression softens when he sees the tears in your eyes. 

“Then what are you upset about?” You choose to stay silent, and he bites the inside of his cheek before continuing.

“If it’s not the breakup then what is it? I know you were upset about it because you called me crying after it happened, so if you’re not sad about that then what-”

“It’s because I love you.” Minghao freezes, head turning back towards you to find you staring at him with your nose turning more red by the second.

“What?”

“I’ve loved you since we were eighteen. I only dated him in an attempt to get over you, but I knew it was wrong so I ended things with him.” Minghao stares at you with an indecipherable look on his face, and you quickly try to wipe away the tears spilling from your eyes. “I was going to confess to you yesterday, but you were so excited about the date you were able to score with that girl that I couldn’t. Now I’m kinda drunk, really alone, and in a one-sided love with my best friend-” 

You’re effectively cut off with a small gasp when Minghao’s hands reach up to softly cup your face. He stares into your eyes, and warmth floods your cheeks. “Say it again.” 

You find yourself staring at the hopeful expression on his face, wondering if he’s been wanting this for as long as you have. 

“I love you.” You whisper, and Minghao lets out a small smile before his lips crash onto yours, hands resting on both sides of your face as your hand now tightly clutches his shirt. The kiss tastes of salt from your tears with a mix of the strawberry soju you were both drinking. Your heart does a somersault in your chest, finding his kisses to be addicting. 

Minghao pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, a smile breaking out onto his face when you look into his eyes. He moves back and presses a kiss to the top of your head, before bending down and throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a small squeal, laughing at your new perspective of the world.

“We’re going to the car now yn, it’s cold and you’re gonna get sick.” You smile, patting his nonexistent butt to the beat of the steps he takes. Minghao unlocks his car, gently placing you into the passenger seat and buckling your seatbelt. You nuzzle into the leather seat, closing your eyes sleepily as you’re now in the sleepy stage of being drunk. You’re half asleep when you fail to notice Minghao starting the car and pulling out of his parking spot.

“Was that kiss a dream?” You ask sleepily, and Minghao lets out a small giggle. “No it wasn’t.”

“Are dating you and I now?” 

“Dating is you and I.” You smile in your half-awake state, and he reaches over to turn up the heat in the car for you. 

“You’ve loved me back this entire time?” Minghao nods his head, grinning at you trying to keep your eyes open. 

“For as long as I can remember.” A sleepy smile forms on your face, making him coo at you. You’re about to ask another question when Minghao shushes you.

“Go to sleep yn, we can talk about everything tomorrow, okay?” You nod your head, letting sleep take over a few minutes after. Minghao turns his head to look at you once he hits a red light, and he smiles softly at how cute you look when you’re asleep. He reaches into the back and grabs his jacket, bringing it to the front and placing it over you as a make-shift blanket. 

The light turns green, and Minghao drives through the intersection. He’s still thinking of the kiss the two of you shared, and he lifts a hand up to his lips shyly. He glances over at you, and chuckles at your now open mouth. 

“Can’t believe you’ve loved me back this entire time.” Minghao whispers, reminiscing the times he thought his love for you was hopeless. He pats your head softly, before turning back towards the road. Letting day6 play softly in the background.

말로 다 할 수 없어, 이 아름다운 느낌.

can’t express it with words, this beautiful feeling.

#xu minghao x reader #minghao x reader #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen au #seventeen oneshot #seventeen minghao #the8 scenarios #the8 x reader #the8 oneshot #the8 fanfic #seventeen the8 #xuminghao #minghao scenarios #minghao fluff #minghao fanfic #minghao oneshot #minghao angst #seventeen myungho #xu minghao scenarios #xu minghao fluff #xu minghao #xu minghao oneshot

[moonlightjeno]

ten things and then some | l.j

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: jeno x reader 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞 :: based on the poem from 10 things i hate about you if you haven’t watched it fo yourself a favor and go watch the movie bc it’s a m a z i n g. ty 𝕨𝕔 :: 15.5k this is the longest thing i’ve ever written wow. 𝕒/𝕟 :: y’all jeno fits the concept to this p e r f e c t l y, and no i am not being biased :) and a massive massive thank you to @smoljh​ for helping me and giving me feedback, you’re the sweetest. and ofc to my soulmate girl yk i love you to the moon and back, and i hope you enjoy this piece @mangotexts​ ( truly the best hype woman anyone could ask for ).

everything in bold is part of the poem, from “10 things i hate about you”

I hate the way you talk to me,

Sweetheart. love. angel. The words that spin from his mouth every time you hear him talk to you, made you aggravated. It was a constant stream of words that had begun as a prick of annoyance. Every time, he opened his mouth, looking at you with his dark brown eyes. 

“Earth to y/n” the snapping of fingers disrupts your train of thought, eyes glancing back to the dark-haired boy on the other side of the school grounds, before landing back on your friend. 

“What?” the words slip from your mouth with disinterest, a lack of concern for whatever your friend had been rambling on about for the past five minutes. The small amount of conversation you’d registered was she’d been talking about a party that johnny suh, school alumni, and constant talk around school grounds were throwing as a “welcome to the end of high school”. Though as parties went, you were almost sure that it would encompass school graduates, seniors, and the occasional sophomores and freshmen that would manage to sneak their way in, eyes glittering with excitement as they entered their first high school party. 

“Are you coming?” her words were drawn out as if she’d ask you five times before, she might have, and it was only now that you had finally heard the question. The question slightly baffles you, because everyone in school knew you didn’t go to parties since freshman year. 

“Uh, no. you know what i think of parties, they’re a waste. An excuse for seniors to think they're above everyone else, as they tell off the younger students that they’ve deemed aren’t ‘cool’ or mature enough, while the freshman walks around with some sort of desperate hope in their eyes as if the world will drastically change if they show up at a senior party. Someone should tell them” you say, looking past your friend whose excited smile has dimmed to a small frown, eyes slightly annoyed, something that doesn’t surprise you at this point. It isn’t a secret what you think of parties either, even if you are best friends with the queen of parties herself. You stop yourself before your eyes have a change of drifting to the brown-haired boy with a leather jacket that tends to sit by the foot of the football field, whom you can’t seem to find, probably smoking the thought is bitter and places a scowl on your face before you look back at your friend,  “nothing changes''.

“Just once, one time is all i ask of you” the pleas that come from your friend make you focus on her, her hair is loose ruffled by the light wind that has blown over the course of your conversation. It’s almost enough for you to agree to go to the stupid party, when you see her glance towards mark lee, the boy she’s been crushing on for as long as you’ve known her. It hadn’t surprised you, that she’d fallen for him, when you saw him. The boy who made most girls swoon, but who had somehow managed to beat all the stereotypes of “hot” because mark was also talented, more than you’d like to admit when it came to music, he’d helped you a couple of times when you’d been stuck on a composition, always a smile on his face. so when she glanced towards him, the glittering in her eyes and rose tainted cheeks as mark looked back, flashing a small smile, you couldn’t help but give in. 

“I’m going to regret this,” you say, the words a mix of a grunt and an exasperated sigh, but your friend is almost jumping up and down, giving you a quick hug and promising that you wouldn’t regret it, not at all, you’d have the greatest time before she was turning around a skip in her step. A smile graces your face at your friend’s happiness, and it remains there unfaltering until you hear “hello love”

Brown hair made its way into your view, as jeno’s face presented itself in front of you, a cocky smile grazing his features that made your smile falter and eventually turn into a scowl.

“What” the word isn’t a question, more like a complaint as you try to turn around and head in the opposite direction, away from jeno and his sweet words. But his voice trails behind you only a couple of steps away before he’s next to you leather jacket glaring against the end of the summer sun, and you wonder only for a second how he isn’t passing out from the heat. 

“Oh come on angel, a lil smile wouldn’t kill you” his words are filled with a tone you can only describe as intolerable, making you slightly gag.

“A smile wouldn’t kill me, but i might kill you” you smile at him, a grin adorning your features, “luv” the words that left your mouth are meant to push jeno away and have him leave you alone, but the boy is persistent and though his smirk falters slightly at the glare you give him, the grin is up and running again as he stops in front of you. 

“And then who would you have to glare and fight with luv?” the moment the words leave his mouth he turns away, proud of his line. The dumbass, you think, insults quickly forming in your head and ready to be thrown out towards him but your phone pings, and you thumb it open. The message “see you at the party angel” makes your blood boil slightly, but you can’t hide the way your cheeks slightly turn red and the smile that slowly grazes your face before you make a vulgar gesture to the sweet mouthed boy, and turn away.

As much as you hated to admit, you looked forward to the party only just slightly more than you did five minutes ago, the small nicknames swarming around your head. 

And the way you cut your hair.

The too-loud music and blinding lights that could be heard and seen from multiple blocks away, and you almost stopped in your tracks, ready to turn around and head back home. But a pull from your friend as she squealed in excitement at maybe having a chance with mark managed to keep your feet moving towards the flashing lights. 

Strong alcohol, tequila, or vodka is something you’re hoping they have at the party so that you can attempt to get away from the sex-craved teenagers that are lined up against the walls, pushing against each other. Just walking into the house, and the stench of cigarettes, weed, and sweat floats through the air almost enough to make you gag, as your nose scrunches up at the sight and smell. 

Drinks are set far too far from the entrance of the house, the kitchen seems to be miles away not close enough for your liking until you finally reach it. Johnny, black-haired slicked back, the sunflower tattoo on his forearm a stark contrast to the leather jacket he wears and it makes you smile just slightly at the different personalities the dark-haired boy has.  Yet you can’t deny his loud and extravagant personality as he talks from person to person whether senior or freshman, making drinks, even if some of the spillover the sides, you sit by one of the stools ready to get a mixed drink of whatever the alumni is able to concoct before getting the courage and energy to head back into the party and socialize with people you really have no interest in socializing. 

In the short minute that it takes johnny to get your drink, the lemon drink shot with a strong tequila is set in front of you just as your friend has left you with the only warning being a sharp look, as she smiled to a brown-haired boy that you can only presume to be Mark, by the way, her face flushes, and she takes a swig from the drink in her hand before leaving you, and you yell a sharp “go get em” before gulping down the liquid inside the red solo cup. 

Alcohol you’d forgotten burned down your throat, it’s lingering sharp and bitter taste leaving a tang in your mouth as it traveled down your mouth. You forget that the effect of the drink doesn’t come into effect a little later, where you are jumping up and down on the table, dancing from side to side as the music pumps through your blood and body. You won’t be able to tell that it’s the alcohol that you’d sworn you wouldn’t drink unless surrounded by friends, but most definitely not in a social gathering, that makes you jump from table to table and grab other’s next you as you dance with them. Hair slightly plastered to your face from the sweat, and though you’re dancing your words are slightly fuzzy from the multiple drinks you’d had from random tables you’d pass by.

A sharp tug and pull gets you off the current table and you begin to complain, wanting to continue to let loose to the rhythm of some constant beat song that sounds all too vaguely familiar to your ears, but the arms that are wrapped around you feel oddly warm and comfortable and the protest die slightly on your lips as you turn around to see who’s holding onto you. 

Dark brown hair, almost black frames the boy’s face perfectly and you want to run your fingers through it. Some sense of longing for love and being loved passes through you, and now you’ve realized how drunk you truly are as you push down the emotions of attraction to the boy in front of your face showing only the traces of what would be a smile if he wasn’t so concerned for your safety. 

“y/n?” the boy asks, and you’re still in a light haze of alcohol that buzzes through your skin and blood making everything fuzzy that you can’t quite picture whose face it is in front of you, whose voice that is soft and gentle towards you and sounds so familiar, to which you only manage to nod your head slightly hair falling in front of your eyes as you smile. It’s small, fluttering, and the boy in front of you smiles too, as he repeats your name, and then the words that leave his mouth make him click into place. 

“y/n? Luv? How much have you had?” The word luv, makes you push away from the strong arms that hold you, the classic leather jacket that tends to adorn his body has somehow managed to be wrapped around you, and you realize that you are no longer inside the house with loud music. Instead the music and flashing lights have been replaced by trees and twinkling lights that flash in the dark sky and the distant background of loud music that is too low for your ears to register anything more than a constant drone. Your smile has been replaced by a scowl, and you grunt at the jacket you’re wearing, hating to admit that it’s warm and comforting. You try to speak, the words a slur before you hurl, holding onto your stomach as the content of your lunch and too much alcohol are spilled on the grass floor in front of you. 

The acid from your stomach burns your tongue, a bitter taste seems to linger even as you chug down the water that jeno offers you, a small smile gracing his features. And you blame the alcohol, but you smile back at him, and can’t think that maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought he was. You can’t shake the feeling of his hand wrapped around your waist, another holding up your hair as you hurled, and coughed no mocking grin or satisfactory smirk making their way onto his face. Instead a small smile was present, his dark hair that you finally admitted to yourself, made him look hot, was tousled and messy by the wind and it looked cute. 

You blame the day’s events and the words that were thrown at you at the beginning of the party making you head straight to the intoxicating drinks. You blame the chemicals that are still in your system, as you sit on the grass dragging jeno to sit next to you, hand intertwined with his. The grass that is cool against your touch, making your skin feel less hot, less sticky, and more conscious. You blame the alcohol and everything it changes in your core, for letting you lean your head against jeno’s shoulder, as his arm wraps around your shoulders pulling you in only slightly, scared to scare you away. You most definitely blame the alcohol as the words that fall from your mouth as you hold onto jeno’s calloused hand. 

“I like it” the words are a mumble, whispered into the night air, and it causes jeno to turn just slightly his lips almost touching the crown of your head, “like what?” he whispers back, and you can almost swear a small kiss is placed on the crown of your head. 

           “Luv” 

I hate the way you drive my car.

It seems that the stars want you to hate jeno more than you already do, as he half carries you half drags you to your parked car. The moon shines on the car surfaces mixing in with the dull yellow lights from the evenly spaced streetlights. You wished that you could walk straight, but you still stumble a little, your steps not sturdy until jeno has placed his arm around your waist lifting you up, that you manage to walk to the old vintage car that is parked under one of the dimmed out streetlights. 

The sequence of opening the door and you get inside the car occurs in a slight blur, but you find yourself on the passenger seat, head resting against the cool window that makes you jump slightly from the contact. It isn’t until you turn your head as the engine roars to life underneath you that you see jeno by the wheel, adjusting the rear view mirrors to his height and gripping the steering wheel. 

Time seemed to stop as you lay in the grass, head tucked in between jeno’s shoulder and his head. It stopped when the last words that had left your mouth had made jeno’s smile widen and his eyes match the moon that shone brightly above the two of you. The droning music has stopped, flashing lights no longer as constant as they were when you had first dragged jeno into the cool grass. In that position did you two lay for hours, a comfortable understanding and silence settling between the two of you until your breaths became constant and your eyes had begun to droop threatening to close that jeno shook you lightly. The only response he got was a small humm that you were still awake, as he pulled you up and started to make your way to the car. Something that seemed almost impossible as jeno had absolutely no idea where the fuck your car was and you didn’t seem to quite remember in your hald drunken half sober very much about to fall asleep state.

Jeno could have almost jumped from joy when he’d seen your eyes brighten up at the sight of a beat-up old red mustang, and you pointed towards it. The moment he had opened the passenger door you had climbed inside curling up next to the door like a cat, and he couldn’t help but think that you were adorable, even when you snapped at him for taking your keys. It was a different side of you that he’d never seen, and he doubted many people did see. One where you weren’t putting on a sort of facade of hating everything around you, but instead you let your eyes relax holding a sort of brightness and glow jeno hadn’t seen before but now couldn’t stop himself from looking at. Stop, jeno scolded himself as he turned to look at the road, car roaring to life.  

“Nu-uh” you grunted at seeing jeno aggressively change gears, “stop being so aggressive,” you say as you sit up. The smile that adorned jeno’s face turns into a grin, as he continues to aggressively switch gears as he turns the corner, and you regret ever thinking he was kind. 

“My car doesn’t deserve this” you grunt out, and jeno chuckles looking at you from the side, and he loosens his grip slightly on the gear stick. 

“You mean my presence? I’m gonna have to agree, sweetheart” you’re not sure if it’s the light trace of chemicals that still surround your brain, or if you’ve really wanted to do this for a while but you don’t stop your fist as it punches jeno in the arm. 

“The fuck” leaves jeno’s lips, as he rubs his arm where you’d hit him and you do a little dance on your seat, “don’t hurt my car dumbass” is your only answer before you continue to laugh at the face of confusion and mocked hurt that jeno fakes. 

Your laugh rings around the car, and echoes through the street, as the windows at some point where rolled down. The way jeno looks confused makes you laugh harder, and he turns just slightly, his eyes narrow and eyebrows slightly scrunches, and he looks like a confused dog. Alcohol might have made you hit him, but you can’t fathom why you would be laughing at jeno, no not at him but with him as his laugh has joined yours as he drives the car down the street. The ridiculousness of the night catches up with, making you hold onto your stomach as jeno parks into your driveway smile never faltering. 

From the way, both of your eyes shine from joy and amusement one could almost swear that the two of you were friends, almost lovers by the way jeno looked at you. But no one was looking at two in the morning, and no one can be there to tell you that the way you two look at each other is in a new way. No gazes filled with mocked sympathy or non-wanted flirtatious remarks, instead, you two seem to gaze into each other’s eyes for what seems too long if it weren’t that neither of you seemed to mind. 

And because you are still slightly tipsy, and the stars and moon make jeno look like some sort of angel as his hair is illuminated by a white light, that lights up his face making his eyes a warmer brown that they usually are that you think about opening up yourself to him. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think, maybe just maybe the nicknames he gives you make you feel a flutter because he could be someone to trust. 

Possibilities for the maybes and wants to fill your head, and you don’t realize your eyes have fluttered shut and you are leaning in only slightly a sway towards where jeno is until you feel his hand on your shoulder stopping you, a pitiful gaze grazes his features and you are almost sure you want to go crawl in a hole. Instead, you push him back, opening the car door and slamming it behind you, chin held up as you walk back towards your house, the water in your eyes threatening to spill. But you manage to make it, as you walk into your house, and slam the door behind you the words “maybe not now” replaying in your head, because why the fuck would he actually like you. 

You don’t notice when you go to sleep music blasting from your headphones that you’ve wrapped yourself in the leather jacket that smells slightly of cat and boy, the lingering stench of cigarettes and fire from the jacket given to you by the boy who had managed to hold your heart for only a second. 

 I hate it when you stare. 

              in and out. Your breaths match the classes metronome, a constant beat to keep your breaths even and focused on whatever the teacher is saying, which happens to be the importance of pentatonic scales when composing a new song. He drones on about the way modern pop music isn’t really music and that the same fours chords and rhythmic patterns are used over and over again with a slight variety to them. You would have looked around the class, taking in the beautiful instruments that are set on display around the class, most of them hanging on hooks and nicks that cause the brass instruments to gleam in the classroom light. Admiring the way the guitars were filed neatly, basses next to them and the small ukuleles that the school's “hipsters” would pretend to play every so often at the talent shows. Some of the guitars and ukuleles were decorated by the art classes, the flowers blooming from one end to the other making it impossible to tell the difference between where the original brandished wood begins and ends. It almost seems at times like the flowers in full bloom are consuming the wood, taking away its air and nutrients that then allow the students to play melodica tunes without the professor yelling at them to tune their instruments. You would be admiring the piano that lay at the front of the class where your professor is currently pacing back and forth, his hands waving in grandiose gestures that make you cough an attempt to hide the rising laughter in your throat. The piano that you’d heard most of the students in the class play and almost lull everyone to tears or sleep depending on who it was, as the keys would rise and fall with each stroke. 

Admire. Stare at the instrument you longed to strum and let out the bundle of emotions that were piled up in your stomach, taught and knotted together waiting to be untang;ed by the strum and finger pattern of the acoustic guitar. That’s what you would be doing if you weren’t slightly interested in the way that your professor was taking down and criticizing modern day music which you could only nod your head too, agreeing with most of his points. The rest of your class seemed to be disgusted, their faces shriveling and eyes rolling to the back of their heads. 

“Well yeah, music today doesn’t, well shouldn’t really constitute for “real” music. It shouldn’t be dictated by a constant talk of sex and the drugs, what about the power in music? The way that it is in itself a universal language?” you speak out of turn, your arm coming down slightly aching from having to hold it up for so long with no acknowledgment. The moment you speak you can almost feel the class sigh and grunt, their heads dropping slightly. 

“Now miss y/n” his voice is grainy and unpleasant, but you nod, eyes defiant at whatever critique will come your way even if you just agreed with your professors point of view, “did i ask for your opinion on the universal language and power it has on your feelings” 

“Well no but-”

            “No buts” you want to roll your eyes and flip him off, and decide to do both as you sigh, “not like you’d understand what that is” you mumble loud enough for your the boy at your right to hear you and his mouth falls slightly open, and you roll your eyes flipping him off as he turns around facing the scribbled blackboard.  

You can feel eyes staring at you, analyzing the way you bite onto the top of your pen or how you doodle across the margin of your paper, random notes and lyrics that pop into your head as your professor drones on and on about the theory of music. It’s a pity you think that it’s those eyes that make you want to stand up and hit someone, those eyes that seem to want to dig a whole through your brain are what cause the feeling of uneasiness in your stomach every-time you turn around. 

in and out. The metronome beeps constant again, and you loosen the grip on your pencil. Turning around slowly before locking gaze with jeno, who seems startled, you turned around and looked at him in the first place. Replaced is the mocking grin by a sheepish smile, and you can almost swear there’s a speck of guilt in his brown eyes as he looks at you with a small pleading look until you flip him off, mouthing the words “fuck you” into the air. But he seems to register them as he breaks the contact, eyes darkening and head bowing down just slightly, making a small smile graces your features. 

Tick tick tick - ring. The bell goes off and you can’t seem to get up and out of your seat quick enough, following pursuit of the other students that have already packed and are counting down the seconds until class is over. You’re almost at the door, fingers stretching to reach the handle when you feel a light tap on your shoulder, a brush of your hair to the side, as you swirl around. You bite down the curse that is about to slip through your lips as your professor stands in front of you an amused smile on his face as he tells you that even though you’re an exemplary student you should tone down on the whole “power to the people” role you hold and you have to stop yourself from turning around and walking away. “Uh sure…” you are ready to leave, feet beginning to turn but your professor isn’t done and he holds you back telling you about the inconveniences of being a teacher at this day and age and you wonder what the man had wanted to be if not a teacher but the question and pity are quickly erased when he tells you that you about the end of the year assignment, “a project of sorts” he drawls, one hand stroking the light beard that sticks in odd patchy places around his face. “that will test what you’ve learned this year” you say nothing, waiting for what the punch the goal of the assignment is, “a song based off shakespeare’s sonnets” 

You don’t have time to clap and jump from joy at the assignment and thank your professor before the fire alarm goes off and you are walking towards the football field. You don’t have the time to register the way people are looking at you, the way jeno is staring at you with a goofy smile and hopeful eyes as the intro chords play to i.f.l.y  by bazzi and he gazes towards the crows that has gathered around him, eyes finding yours. 

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

The clunk of boots against the aluminium causes the bleachers to shake slightly, a vibration of clashing echoing through the field as it mixes in with jeno’s voice. The dark haired boy that scares the school away on most days bounces along from one side of the bleachers to the other. 

You can feel the warmth spread to your cheeks, the heat spreading through your body and you shake your head slightly at whatever is going because you truly aren’t quite sure. The only thing you know is that it seems to be the whole school’s eyes are darting from you to jeno, who can’t seem to take his eyes off even as he jumps from one row of bleachers to the next the microphone on his hand a he raps along to the lyrics to the song. Lyrics that sound as familiar as a midnight drive and cooling moonlit fields. 

*

The way he conveys the words and raps is not something you hadn’t heard before, you’d heard him speak his poems to you that late night in the midst of summer heat when you had been in a need of escape from the world that surrounded you. The summer heat had been too much, too suffocating that in a whim you’d driven to the highest point in the city. City skyline had been laid before you, the hues of the city changing as the sun slowly dipped itself over the buildings, and it seemed to want to disappear like you did. Slowly, leaving a mark in the world as it reached past the buildings and water that lay far beyond the city, stretching it’s red flames that would slowly flicker and turn into different hues of pink and purple. It was mesmerizing, a way to get away as the sun went down and the moon shone brighter than the city lights, no amount of light pollution that littered the air enough to you were in your own world. Your mind travelled to that safe and peaceful place that would only come out when you were surrounded by the twinkle of stars that seemed to flicker hope, while the moon remained a constant reminder of the light in the darkness. That is until the crunch of leaves behind you, a sign of the coming autumn disturbed you from your silent peace.

Moonlight shone on black boots, the combat boots seemed to dull the moonlight, taking away all it’s light by absorbing it as it crunched the leaves underneath them and stopped in front of you. Eyes landed on a hooded figure, their black hoodie being slightly too big, as it drooped over their frame, reaching slightly past their hip, where you could see the tears in the boys jeans, and you hated to admit that the outfit wasn’t bad. The boy’s face wasn’t visible from the shadows caused by the moonlight, but it wasn’t that it mattered as you went back to looking at the city below you, waiting for the boy in front of you to sit down next to you. It would have normally bothered you to be disturbed in what you had claimed to be your “spot” but maybe it was the way the boy held his head down, or the way the stars shone and illuminated portions of his face, maybe it was just that there was a mutual understanding between the two people that had seeked comfort in the middle of the night underneath the stars. For whatever the reason, you stayed next to each other not touching, not leaning against each other but there was a sense of comfort by each other’s presence and a mutual knowledge of what each wanted. The silence was one of comfort, a blanket that seemed to surround the field that two of you sat in, and when the boy with the worn out combat boots began to speak, a light melody and rhythm to his words all you could do was nod along and enjoy the melodic and soothing sound of his voice. His words shocked you, reaching somewhere inside of you that seemed to be dormant for a long long time. 

“Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing.  But when the stars shine, and the sun goes, Summer becomes a lil less lonely Little less wasted Because when i'm with you  Time’s gonna stop” 

You couldn’t help but feel drawn to the warm voice that rapped next to, as he talked about lost time and love that seems to be a long lasting one that makes you feel like you’re gonna burst from everything that you feel for them only for them to leave in a quick second. And though you don’t know the boy next to you, you don't know his story, you don’t know why he decided on this very day much like you too climb to the top of the hill and admire the busy world from afar, you know the melody. The song that follows his heart, it’s something out of a movie you think, the way the two of you met, lost souls finding themselves by watching everything around them fade into the dark. You don’t know each other but you do, you know the way his song goes and it’s an understanding beyond words beyond actions as the two of you sit next to each other, hours passed midnight a boy with combat boots that crunch through leaves and a voice with thoughts that seem to connect to everything around you, and you. A lost soul with music in heart, that sways and calms down in the brightening moon of the night, as you give each other mutual company in a field of moonlit flowers, and blinking concrete. 

*

Jeno has made his way down the bleachers, his cheeks are red and you can’t help but feel amused and honored. Because as much as he annoys you and makes you want to hit something you can’t deny the way your heart flutters when he smiles at you as he is doing right now, steps bringing you closer and closer to you, his warned out combat boots make you laugh because you’d never seen him wear anything else. You can feel the anger fade away from the week, anger at him for embarrassing you, anger for not feeling loved like you wanted to be loved, but there was a sort of bond that was formed when the school's resident bad boy decides to sing a love song to someone he’s hurt and cares for. There’s something vulnerable by the way he looks at you, a light in his eyes and embarrassment and all of a sudden he’s in front of you. Faces only centimeters away, his breaths fanning your face slightly, their heavy and uneven but he’s smiling tune slightly off-key as he sings the last verse. 

“So I guess what i'm saying” the mic is lowered, and the space between the two becomes your own world. No longer are aware of the hundreds of teenagers surrounding you, some of the whistling others video taping. 

“I guess what i'm saying” you hum back, smiles adorning both of your faces, 

“I fucking love you”

And the way you read my mind.

It seemed as if the world had suddenly shifted. No longer where you are grounded on earth, goals set to go to the other side of the world away from your family, instead you feel alleviated. Where the ground used to be now there was air, a lightness to your movements and words that weren’t there before. It isn’t that the world suddenly changed, the clouds didn’t suddenly become more bright, the world didn’t suddenly become a bright ball of colors and sunshine. 

Falling for someone was based upon the little moments spent together. The way the world seemed to feel a little less heavy, a little less lonely when brown eyes would meet yours, greeting you with a lopsided smile. You had read in books that falling was like falling asleep, slowly and then so quickly that you didn’t even notice the way your heart would take skips when hand touched hand, calloused fingers from constant strumming of a guitar, grazing yours. They say it’s supposed to be too fast for you to notice, as if you were in a dream state that you had fallen into and slowly when your heart is shattered or turned over do you wake up from the dream-like state wishing you had stayed in it. In your opinion falling was neither of those, and it was both. 

Falling was being dragged out of an arena, filled with a whole school student body, where laughter trailed behind you as the boy with worn out combat boots took you to the place you first met. It was the way his eyes would light up their dark brown becoming a lighter color, almost matching his honey colored hair when the sun would hit him from behind, when he looked at you while you talked about the project you were working on. Falling seemed to be the way that the first sentences after the boy sang bazzi’s confession song was a banter over why the song was chosen, you two debating which of his songs was better, an ongoing debate whether smile or i.f.l.y was a better show of emotion. The argument lasted the whole car ride, you drove and it hadn’t taken much convincing after you threatened to keep his leather jacket, that you had shoved back at him only previously that morning. It was only a matter of seconds after that conversation, that jeno pride smile on his face opened the passenger's seat to the beat up mustang and let you slightly, well more like lecture him on how to be gentle on the old car. If jeno would have been tested on the way that your hands would flit back and forth, moving from side to side and up and down making grand gestures and soft ones in order to justify and further prove your point, jeno was sure he would ace the test. But if it came to what you were talking about, how he shouldn’t force the car to change gears or how one button should be pressed before the other he would have passed, he loved hearing you talk passionately about anything and as much as he loved to get on your nerves to see you get flustered cheeks growing slightly red, but would have failed on purpose just for you to smack him in the arm. The punch, which he would never admit kinda hurt the first time you’d hit him what seemed like ages ago, but was really only a season ago, had softened and felt now more like a “you’re stupid but i don’t mind it”, it made him smile. Banter that flitted back and forth between the two of you, constant little arguments that weren’t truly arguments but more of a facade at the emotions and hidden feelings that grew between the two of you. 

The coming winter air was sharp against your ungloved hand, making you shake it up and down, which only caused jeno to look at you with a confused look. 

“You know luv” the nickname no longer made your blood boil, and you’d finally admitted to yourself that it made you feel warm, “there are pockets for a reason” he put his own hands in the stitched pockets of his leather jacket for emphasis, and you huffed. 

“And then how would i be able to carry this?” you lifted your hand, the what had been hot chocolate was now cold all thanks to the new barista at the cafe, jungwoo you think his name was. Your fingers that had seeped up all the warmth they could get from the previously steaming cup of hot chocolate were now pink at the ends, the cold biting into them, and you slightly shook from the cold air you hadn’t been ready for these type of temperature when jeno had sent you a message this morning, the contact “soft bad boy” appearing repeatedly in your phone, with the vague instructions to get ready to go out in the span of fifteen minutes, he’s been by your door in fifteen minutes leading you to your car where he opened the driver's seat for you as he headed into the passenger. It had taken you arriving at the snow covered school to realize where jeno was taking you, and when you had realized it was the school protests were coming. Questions such as “jeno? It’s winter break, why the fuck are we in school?” and “fuck it’s cold”, or jeno’s favorite which you were almost sure he would forever tease you about, “my hands weren’t made for this” you’d been talking about the numbing of feeling in your thumbs when you had been holding the chocolate, keys, phone and wallet in your hands because your jeans had been made without proper pockets. Fuck the patriarchy you hat thought. Jeno has heard the whole situation out of context, and has made it his life goal to tease you on and on about your small hands. It was torture. 

“You could ask for help?” his little bow almost made you laugh, but you rolled your eyes pride getting in front of his help

“And hear you brag about how you don’t feel the cold” you sigh, changing the drink from one hand to the next letting the pocket in your hoodie heat up your hand slightly, “no thank you”. The next thing you know though, is jeno’s jacket is placed around your shoulders, their warmth heating up your bones, and his hands are wrapped around yours, “no, i’d just do this” his voice is next to you, breath stirring the hairs at your ears, warmth sweeps through your body, by the contact his skin makes with yours, and for a second you want to turn around and kiss him. You want to know what it’s like to kiss his lips that seem so soft, want to know what it feels like to wrap your arms around his neck while you kiss him, and play with the black strands of hair at the back of his neck. The feeling doesn’t leave as much as you try to push it away, as jeno holds your hands and drags you towards the school gate, and into the music room.

Falling is about the invisible things. Falling is noticing the way he can read your mind like no one else can, falling is making dumb jokes at each other smiles on both of your faces, it is the way you seem to have conversations about what you want from the world at two am and still poke fun at each other in a passing by through school. Falling you think you finally understand, isn’t singing i.f.l.y by bazzi in front of the whole student body because you don’t want someone to be mad at you, no. falling is the way from summer to fall to winter you get to know each other, until your hearts seem to be in-sync with each other, as jeno who fiddles with the rings on his fingers tells you to sit down on a chair in the music room. It is the way he picks up the guitar your breath catches on everytime you see it, the flowers swallowing and making the wood more vibrant than it was, and looks at you in the eyes. Falling is how his hands tremble slightly when he begins to strum the guitar, and his husky voice fills the empty room, as he sings about the way you make him feel less alone, and part of the universe.

But there’s a thing about falling, there’s the way that you can feel your eyes tear up when he finishes a goofy smile plastered on his face, the last g chord ringing throughout the room and into the hallways. When you fall, you can never tell when the bottom hits, you can never be prepared for the way the ground lurches before you, a slap in the face, right as you let go of the moon boy in front of you breaths still a little uneven from the shared kiss, which made a star fall seem small. Once that rock bottom is hit, the world falls back into place and you aren’t held at freefall, when you hear the “click” and whoops and yells from the hallway and you try to ignore the invasion trying to take in the boy in front of you, until your phone dings and then so does his. A new text message from an unknown contact, with a photo image attached,

“Turns out the bad boy took the bet after all, and y/n isn’t as cold hearted as they seem”

I hate you so much it makes me sick;

Crashing, falling and burning. Emotions that seem to curse through you days, a weeks later after the text is sent, the one that follows is worse. 

“Turns out, jeno was being paid all along to make cold-hearted y/n to fall for him. If you don't trust us, ask him” you knew the message was a taunt, a test to see if you would break but you’d plummeted down down down, and the way jeno’s eyes had shuttered and the light was no longer the way gave you the answer you wanted. 

A breaking point is what they call you’ve heard when one can no longer hold in the anger or sadness or any sort of emotion that seems to be too much. The breaking point that causes one to lose control over their actions, or thoughts because things you thought to be true, are flipped on their side, and the worst part is you wanted yourself not fall for the boy with the easy smile that shone like the moon, and sweet words that made your blood boil and melt all at once. 

Sick, that’s how you felt when you pushed him away, leather jacket dropping with a heavy thud onto the wooden floor. A twisting and turning of emotions rammed through you, anger coming out strong as you shoved him away again before walking out of the room, leaving jeno mouth wide open as if he’d wanted to say something, hands clenching and unclenching as if he’d grabbed onto to you or hadn’t let you check your phone it would change the world worked. The light that had shone in his eyes left, it seemed to be squashed out by the water that threatened to escape because it was true, he had been paid. It isn’t something that made him particularly, it wasn’t that he wasn’t intrigued by you, from the night you two first met all those months ago under the moonlight. 

Payment, green paper that would be slipped into his hand by haechan, a fellow senior he barely knew apart from the school’s biggest flirt accompanied by na jaemin, he did wonder at times how they weren’t at each other’s throats most of the time, but substantially he truly didn’t care. It didn’t matter to him the more he got to know you, the more he held your hand and felt the way his heart would swell and at times skip a beat or two, maybe even three if you looked at him with light in your eyes, laughter ringing in his ears from a joke he had said. 

The first time he’d been offered the paper, fifty bucks to see if the cold hearted bitch that everyone seemed to fear was capable of giving her heart to someone, he had denied because as much as the world thought of him as a cold hearted human being he truly just didn’t want to be bothered or be torn apart from his music and dance.  The second time haechan offered, he accepted on a whim. There had been a sort of argument in music class, you leading the conversation against something he couldn’t quite remember but he remembered you taking down student after student, a defiant look in your eyes as you gave point after point on what you believed was right. He had accepted, because seeing you standing on top of your chair, passion driving you away from the textbook and to speak clearly voice ringing through the room, made him wonder if it was even possible and if he gave up with what he thought was to be your overly cold demour then at least he's earned some money and the freshman that had walked up to him that morning telling him about the plan they’d set up would work. The plan chenle, a boy who was taller than him, but a freshman nonetheless broke it down in simple steps, it was entertaining to say the least, the way he discussed how he would get his new found jisung to go out with your sister, but that would only be possible if you would date. If he wanted to lie to himself, he would say that he accepted the deal because he wanted to help the kids out, but he was never one to not follow the truth. But now, his hands feel cold and empty, lips still feeling the ghost of yours against his, and he remembers a quote he read not long ago on the story of how the sun died everyday in order to let the moon live at night. 

Jeno is sure that he should be the sun that should die, not because the sun was where the world gravitated towards but because you were the moon. The moon that seemed to hold him together and stand by him even after the lies that are spun about his background at school so when you walk out the door, and he sees the tear’s shining beneath the classroom lights he knows he’s lost. If only you knew that he had stopped taking any sort of money the moment he caught feelings, if you only knew the money that he’d earned had gone to help his fostered cats that hung out by his house every now and then. But even if you did now it didn’t make him any better than Haechan who had sent out the text message, informing the world about the stupidities and decisions he made and had regretted two weeks later when you had scolded him about how to drive your car. 

Sick. From your stomach to your head a loud and never ending thump went on and on like the metronome in the music room all those weeks ago. The headache seemed mocking of your developed feelings for jeno, and you could feel your heart twist into itself, as you went over the events of the last few months. What was real, what was done as an act, you didn;t know but you hated it. You hated the way he made you feel, hated the way one text one yes or luv had led you into this snowball and fall that had hit harder than you’d ever wanted it. You hated him so much, it made you sick. 

It even makes me rhyme.

Melodies follow structured patterns, like the rhythm to a song and the lyrics that accompany it, never missing a beat a simple dun dun dun that tends to lead people into a dance like trance. Yet that was the problem with melodies, it was the way that they held onto certain chords, following the same stroke of keys the same vocal riff or bass slap that would drive you insane but would also drive modern days love songs whether they dealt with the infatuation that was love or the consequences of that love which lead to the inevitable heartbreak all followed the same sort of patterns and lines. 

Rhyming, that’s what you did as you recited the end of the year Shakespeare inspired song. A mixture of words with similar sounding words with the same syllables, like car and stare or hate and fate a juxtaposition between the two. Rhymes where everything you tended to avoid, the stereotypical and overused notes digging into your brain, playing and replaying over and over but you didn’t care anymore, as you recited the scribbled lines on the old piece of notebook paper. Some of the yellow had faded from the drops of tears that had dropped weeks ago, as your mind thought of jeno, his smile no longer the same comfort it held when he drove you out to the beach and led you late at night to admire the stars and watch the sunset. Some of the blue ink bleeding through, making smudges across the paper you were to run in, the doodles that had been scratched and re-drawn only to be scratched and drawn in different shapes the notes written down almost everywhere except in the five bar staff that was supposed to hold the notes. 

The shaky breath you let out helps you calm down as you look out into the pinned up pictures of the bedroom wall and the view that gives out to the dying sun set out in the horizon making space for the ever present and shining moon in the blue now purple and lilac sky. Hands grip at the paper, making it crinkle slightly at the force being used, and you read halfway through the lines you can’t fully get through before tears begin to spring up at your eyes. 

I hate it, i hate the way you’re always right.  I hate it when you lie. 

The words feel raw, and posion, vile seems to rise up at your throat the further you go down, and thought the tears don’t fall heavily they steam. A dashing race down your cheeks and back into the yellow notebook paper, as if they were being recycled. The words on the page breaking you, the emotions a sway of everything they say you aren’t, written by you to the boy who shared his heart and then stole it taking it far far away. Salty water drops onto the paper, until they dry up and then they fall again the next time you read them, and you read them and fix them and read them again rhymes embedded into your brain until the tears no longer fall and the paper is no longer in crinkles. 

I hate it when you make me laugh,

The memory flits back to you when you are met with brown eyes on the first day back from winter break. The air is no longer sharp and threatening to cut into you, but nevertheless you wear your sweater, hoodie slightly up, headphones popped into both ears. You didn't realize the figure in front of you, until you’d bumped into the halfway through a new invented dance move you had decided to create as you bopped and moved to the music that surged through your headphones. The toppling into one another was fast, rushed almost as you collided against each other, a stutter back from both of you before you saw who exactly you had crashed into. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, you should have realized who the boy was from the worn out combat boots that had been dyed black again, and the leather jacket that had a couple of new patches adorning it’s sleeves. 

“Sorry” jeno murmurs, but you don’t hear music still flooding in, and you are too focused on the way his eyes shift from your face to your hoodie, and then back to your face not being able to look straight at you, it causes you to scoff. Of course he was able go behind my back, get paid to play with me, and when he gets caught he can’t even look me in the eye, the thoughts are slightly disappointing but not surprising - boys you had learned tended to follow patterns. It isn’t until jeno shifts his focus entirely from you, brown eyes darkening that you are intrigued by the change emotion, guilt and a sort of plead to apologize is wiped from his face and you soon realize the purple haired boy, who couldn’t help himself from laughing at your situation, calling more students to him that had set jeno off. 

“If it isn’t the schools biggest joke” haechan’s voice is mocking, and you truly don’t know why the rest of the student body is laughing with him, when there isn’t anything humorous, sadly this is what you expect from the school by this point, it happened in ninth grade there was nothing to say it wouldn’t happen again. You think about ignoring his comments, there truly was no use getting involved, haechan just wanted a reaction, that is until he flaunted his money around, the constant taunt of how you had been manipulated thanks to the douchebag in front of you not leaving your mind for a second and you’d had enough. Haechan or his group of friends couldn’t have stopped you even if they tried, as you walked up to him, hood down, the rings on your fingers shining in the morning sun, as you punched him. 

“Bitch!” his voice broke as the word escaped his lips, blood beginning to swell on the side of his face, “i have a photoshoot tomorrow” you punched again in response, this time his lip was cut, and you snickered. 

“Hmmmm” you hummed looking at the boy’s eyes, they held anger and a hint of mist that threatened to escape and not being the schools ‘perfect’ boy, “guess they’ll have to find someone else, you know someone that’s actually, how do i say this in the nicest way possible” placing a hand on your chin you pretend to think about it before a grin spreads on your face, “nevermind there isn’t a nice way because you don’t deserve shit. rot in hell fucker” the last word is almost a yell as you’ve turned around and have walked away from the scene, a shit eating grin on your face, at the look of defeat Haechan held. 

It isn’t the way Haechan looks at you with disgust, no that gives you some sense of pride by taking him on, it’s the way jeno’s eyes are filled with pride and warmth. A plea to hear him out at least just once, and as much as you try to deny it his eyes take you back to hot chocolates on random days, snowball fights late at night and random drives through the city to calm you down, music blasted through the stereo of your old car. Memories of him being next to you, arms around yours holding onto you as if you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Memories that as much as you wished wouldn’t flood up every time you saw him did and though you kept telling yourself that it was just an act, you can’t help but think that maybe just maybe not all of it was an act. The hope you hold close to your heart, is what leads you to be stuck back in the place that the mess started, stuck inside the music room yet again, jeno hand centimeters away from yours which just gets you to sit far far away from him. 

“So…” he starts, fiddling with the bracelets that adorn his wrists.

“So…you gonna say something or can i go because i have class to attend to” the words come out harsh, as your annoyance slightly rises, mixed in with being emotionally exhausted you really weren’t here to sit around the boy who had played with you. 

“The cafeteira is having french fries today” the second the words leave jeno’s lips he regrets them, because how stupid is he to start an apology by talking about food, when he looks at you he sees you laughing. Laughing so hard that he manages to walk closer to you so that you are only a couple of feet away from each other, but it isn’t a laugh that fills up the room. Your laugh is dry and humourless, empty and broken, it reminds him of the way one laughs when they have nothing to lose and have given up all hope.

“You know” you start, willing the tears to not fall, your voice to not break because just being in the room with him feels like too much, like one wrong step and the glue that has tapped your heart back together might diffuse into thin air, “for a second, a short second i thought you were gonna say something meaningful” the words are like poison, as you spit them out wanting them to strike and hurt the black haired boy with the perfectly chiseled face to hurt as much as you do, as you begin to head out of the room, the tears threatening to spill again. You’re about to reach the door before you hear your name being called, and you wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the desperation that was laced with his words. If it weren’t for the words that followed your name, “Summer’s been lonely, time seems wasted and passing” the lyrics, the way they roll off his tongue as if he’s heard them a million times catch your breath and make you turn around. 

“Stop” you hold your hand out in emphasis, trying to calm your beating heart down, trying to stop the idea that this boy, the one that held your heart and broke it is the same boy that made you feel at peace in a day of chaos, on a midsummer night. But he tries again to talk, a small smile on the ghost of his lips and you have the urge to laugh and smile at him. 

“Just stop” you almost plead, and jeno takes a deep breath, waiting for you to continue, “stop because dam you have no right to sing that. You had no right, no right at all to make me laugh like no one else that day and day’s after, you had no right”  

Even worse when you make me cry.

Jeno has never been one to convey emotions with words. It was never, his forte as people call it, but in the music room that felt stuffed and almost suffocating he reached for words. Any word that might be sufficient, no, not sufficient, words that would convey his truth. Somehow, some way to get rid of that look of disgust, anger and defeat in your eyes that made his heart ache. He can feel you pull farther and farther away even if you are only a couple of feet away from, a couple of inches until if he held his arm out he could catch your hand in his. There was some part of him that thought the moment you two shared what seemed to be years ago, would help, would stop your eyes from shining every-time a light would hit them, the tears he knew you were holding back, because you weren’t one to cry in front of others threatening to spill.  In response, he could feel his heart ache for longer, his hands clam up, eyes look at yours pleadingly. 

“I know” his voice is defeated, almost as broken as you feel and the way it still manages to pull at your heart makes you look up at him, willing if only for one second, or to prove yourself that you can listen to him. The pause seems to make the room feel slightly more bearable, less stuffy, a little less suffocating, because two words are more than just an acknowledgement at the past but also at the present and the recent fuck ups. You hear more than see jeno take another shaky breath before he opens his mouth, closes it and opens again, a hand squeezing his eyes shut before he begins. 

“I know” the words are repeated again, and you aren’t sure what to make of them but he isn’t done, “i fucked up” you scoff, and jeno has a faint smile, “i know that anything that i say will seriously not make up for anything i did because no one in there right mind would ever accept to what i did. No one who knows you, would ever even consider agreeing to being paid to approach you. No one, because being around you, getting to know you is a gift itself. And yes i did agree at the beginning, it’s a long story” the words become clustered, a mumble and you want to leave again, because they feel like an excuse, 

“A long story, that still ended with you winning right?” the words snap from you before you stop them, and jeno is left wordless for a second before his eyes focus in again, mind running at a million, “yes?”

“No. no, i mean no” the sound that escapes from his lips confuses you, it’s a grunt and a sigh but he looks exhausted, “this isn’t going well”

“You think?” The question is more of a fact but that doesn’t stop jeno’s lips twitching slightly upwards, and you're mirroring his. Banter is good? I guess jeno thinks. 

“What i mean” he starts again for the uptenth time, “is that the moment i saw you smile, the moment i got to know you, not the cold exterior you present the moment you laughed at something stupid i said, because for some odd reason you seem to find my jokes funny when no one else does. The moment you... i saw you, eyes dazed as they looked at the sky i knew that the whole thing was stupid. And i stopped it, i promised i stopped taking money from haechan the second i knew you because you didn’t deserve that. Does that make me any less of a shitty person? No it really doesn’t” he stops for a second, catching his breath and you're trying your best to not let the tears drop to not scream or yell or hit him over and over again, but he makes it so hard. So fucking hard when his voice and eyes seem to convey everything you need to hear, everything you want to hear, but then the word money is said and you remember what he did and you can feel yourself recoil back, but not before a silent tear slips. 

“It doesn’t make me a better person if i had stopped the moment i had accepted the deal because I considered it. But y/n the way I feel about you, the way you manage to center me and be the single thing that keeps me afloat in this hell hole. The way that being next you whether it’s holding your hand that tends to be cold because you hate wearing gloves in winter and rather let them freeze'' another smile, and another tear slips making its way down your cheek, “can make me so happy and completely infatuated to the point i don’t know what to do with myself. It is the way I can feel your body next to mine hours after you’ve gone home from one of our random late night drives, or the way you steal my jacket and then i can feel you with me even when you are in class. It’s the way the stars and moon seemed to align that summer day, when we were both lost and found each other in the same lyrics, the same words and melody that sang to us. So yes, i was so stupid, so dam stupid for ever thinking i could be anything other than a stranger to you, and accepting that. But I can feel the way my heart seems to forget how to beat, anytime you look at me, and you smile, and unlike what the world wants us to believe. You aren’t my sun, or my stars. You are the center of the universe that i stand for, the moon that no matter how much i tried to get away from continues to rise and remain even on the never ending days, because i didn’t mean it all those months ago in the bleachers when i just wanted you to stop being mad at me for being the dumb ass i am, and i will never be the best when it comes to words and emotions luv, but i mean it now. I truly truly am sorry, and -” his voice breaks, and his hands shake, a tear slips from his eyes and you can see it’s reflection by the light. 

“St…” you take a breath, the word not leaving your throat, your breaths are shaky and jeno tries to reach out to you, tries to wipe away the silent flow of tears that continues to stream down your face, “stop”. The word finally manage to leave your lips, harsher than you wanted them too but it stops jeno from grabbing your hand, from taking away the warmth of his hand against your cheek, his eyes that had begun to light up slightly to be shut down again, as if someone had doused water on him. 

“Luv…” the moment the words leave his lips you know you have to leave, because if he does say those words, the ones you know you’ve been dreading to hear because you feel the same way. Because you have fallen and though you have hit rock bottom, and have been smacked back into reality your heart has never stopped reaching towards his. It doesn’t help, when his eyes look at yours with love, and you want to forgive him, you want everything to be okay, and in order for that to happen you can’t break down in front of him. Slowly do you shake your head, arms wrapping around your body as if they could provide some type of warmth, and heat up your bones, give warmth back into your eyes the way they do when you look at jeno. Which is why you don’t look at him, why you turn away leaving his arm outstretched and hanging. You can feel his eyes trail you, as you open the door the noise of the outside world rushing into the room, startling you for a second, but jeno doesn’t seem to hear it. The only thing he can focus on is you leaving, your footstep getting farther away, and his world becoming a little darker, more grey. The last thing he sees is your - well what used to be his - grey hoodie, the marking of sharpie that have been used to doodle on the piece of clothing one late night, flashing before the wooden door closes shut, surrounding him in a lonely silence again. 

I hate it when you’re not around,

The world seems to mock you for falling for lee jeno. The black haired boy seemed to follow you everywhere you went no matter how far away you tried to get away from the memories that plagued you. Days had passed since the world had yet again seemed to shift on its axis, and you had seen jeno less and less, but that didn’t stop your mind from making you remember his laugh anytime you heard a bad joke. 

No longer did brown eyes meet yours right after school ended in the cafe next to school, you weren’t greeted by the easy smile, that turned eyes into moons, or called the obnoxious pet names of angel and luv that used to make you want to punch a wall, only for you to find the words to be missing from your everyday life. Moments when the radio would play the song about summer and hazy love would worm their way into your heart, and it was like he was there. Smiling at you, his hand intertwined with yours as you drove your car to the top of the mountain where you first met, and just when the chorus would hit the two of you would belt out the song at the top of your lungs. It was only when the song ended, the melody fading into the back and replaced by the rapid voices of an ad for some car dealership you really didn’t care for, that you would look to find an empty seat beside you. No boy with a leather jacket, and combat boots that might have been propped up on the dashboard much to your protests, instead the seats were either empty and cold with no presence or soul in them, and the car would suddenly feel small and distant. 

Other times, the pang of not hearing his laughter diffuse into the air, over your clumsy self either tripping over words or almost falling over due to there being a small rock in the sidewalk. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t have friends. Your best friend, the same one that had dragged you into that party all those months ago, would never miss a beat to be with you, to take you out for a random karaoke night or a late night drive on her car. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them, you loved how they would always make time for the small nuisance you would bother them about, even if it was just to tell them about a new meme you’d found but the way their presence would fill only a small space in your heart made it hard. Especially because you would see how happy they were anytime they talked about Mark, the stories of their lazy dates filled your heart with happiness and joy. It had become a habit to prioritize other’s happiness above your own, and soon it became a habit to prioritize getting jeno out of your memories out of the place in your heart he had seemed to crawl into and not leave. 

Memories you come to realize are fleeting, and unpredictable. They are made from what one process to be from the emotions they feel in the current moment that the memory is being stored into your brain. The thing about memories, it’s a thing that they don’t tell you in 12th grade biology class. School or teachers don’t teach you about the different emotions and images that memories bring along with them. The figments that surround every memory you have for the past year seem to somehow always lead back to jeno. He comes when you think about your favorite drink, hot chocolate, and the drink transports you back to jeno bringing you hot chocolate late at night after long after hour practices. His black hair makes a presence, when you think about the essay you had to turn in a week ago, you don’t remember much of the project but your brain, against your conscious will remembers the way jeno’s hair felt through your fingers as you played with his hair one late afternoon. The threads come together slowly, on a random day, in which the sun seems to almost be desperate to stay on the earth’s surface, as it turns the buildings around it into purple hues. It almost seems like it’s gasping for air, and as the purple slowly turns into pink and lastly disappears beyond the horizon it’s last breath taken and long gone you realize something. Like the sun, and the threads that are tied together in order to form memories, in order to form the segments of life that when pieces together form a picture that lets one create the story of a person or a setting, jeno seems to form in front of you. You sit on top of the mountain where you first met, but this time you are alone, the skyline displayed out in front of you. The trees have lost their leaves and some of them even still have some white specks of snow in them, that with one push of wind would make the tremble and shiver, letting go of the white covering. 

Jeno is next to you, his hand only a mere centimeter from yours, but you continue to look at the sky, the buildings that go on for as long as you can see. His memory, the way you rest your head on his shoulder and he listens and listens no judgement ever from his eyes, only support and encouragement to let you choose what will make you happy. A memory that repeats over and over again, but that isn’t your favorite memory from jeno. The last memory that forms in your head, after the roadtrips, to sweet make out sessions that led you two to leave whatever homework you had to work on for another time, or the sweet messages left at your phone that would bring a smile to your face even if he just texted you about the weather, to then get a back hug as he called you angel. 

Your favorite memory was the day you had been on the exact same spot you where now, except jeno had been next to you, breathing a little harder than normal he had just shown you a dance routine he’s been working on for as long as you could remember. His eyes didn’t shine like they usually did, they didn’t take in the light around him, and his face didn’t have traces of a grin that you had grown so used too. Instead he pushed you away, dark roots from his bleached hair he had decided to try out for the month had begun to show and you could see the stress that seemed to suffocate him. This was a different side of jeno, a side you hadn't seen, one that you tried to approach with a joke, only to be quickly shut down. A small argument over school and life had formed, in which you two had gone from being right next to each other to being feet apart, a scowl on your face, the same one that jeno bore. It was this memory that was your favorite because it had been the first time you had truly seen jeno be vulnerable, it had been the first time from the weeks you had gotten to know each other that you felt that the walls on walls he built around himself, the walls you built around yourself had been torn down. There had been no shared kisses, no shared moments in which one hadn’t jokingly filtered with the other until the first droplet fell down jeno’s face. The only reason you had seen it was because the sun, punctual as always, had descended flickers of light reflecting in his face. It was a small action but enough that there was some part that managed to push aside your pride and you approached him, arms wrapping around his waist. The memory makes you remember that it took him a second to wrap his arms around you, but in that moment, it seemed as only for a second in which you could provide some support for the boy in front of you, then he could give you the support you needed. Threads of the memory are vague, movements in which you can’t fully pinpoint what happened in between or later, in which you know that at one point music had begun to make its way up the mountain from one of the daily parties the teens would throw, but you two held onto each other. The song, isn’t one you can seem to recall, but it wasn’t one that people slow dance too, it wasn’t one in which you are supposed to hold onto the boy in front of you arms around his neck, as his eyes looked into yours, smiles grazing both of your features as your foreheads touched, a small kiss placed on your forehead. Moonlight cascading the both of you, pushing away the shadows that surrounded you both. 

It was any memory that you had in which jeno took part, in which you could feel him next to you, that was your favorite. Memories, you remember reading somewhere are your subconscious telling you something, it is the way the body and mind admit what you are too scared to take in for yourself. Memories of jeno next to you, and then not are what make you realize how much you hate not having the black haired boy, with the overly kind personality next to you. 

And the fact you didn’t call.

Days turn into months, as the winter snow leaves the tree’s branches leaving them barren. Only for the spring rain and occasional sun to let the leaves and flowers begin to spring back up again. Teachers are at the point in the year whether they aren’t quite sure if they want to give everyone in the class a pass just so they don’t have to hear the constant complaining on the amount of assignments a student has due by tomorrow, or if they’ll give more work, more assessments as a sort of payback for the hardships they’ve had to endure throughout the year.  

You are in music class, your professor going over the final assessments guidelines one last time before they are presented at the start of class tomorrow. The weight of the written sonnet feels heavy, and though the physical copy of the assignment is types out neatly somewhere in your computer, the original draft that you had begun to draft all those months ago is crumpled up in your jacket pocket, a constant reminder of everything you want and everything that you feel you can’t have. 

If you close your eyes just for a second you can see yourself back in your room, until the space changes and you are no longer in your room but are at the school’s roof. The warm spring breeze tangling your hair, and making the page in front of you flutter. You didn’t need the paper, the lyrics to the musical sonnet that had been shakespeare inspired seemed to be embedded into your brain so that when you weren’t thinking about the thousands of words you still had to write when it came to the labs for biology class, or the analysis of catcher in the rye for english class, the words would replay in your head over and over. The soft melody accompanying them. Humming to the song had become a habit, one that had developed like how one realizes that they bit ethier lip, or thumbs when they are stressed or bored. A habit that once you realize it’s there you can’t help but notice it every time you do it. The notebook paper continues to rustle, and you fold it and place it into the pocket of the black jean jacket, taking a deep breath as you do so. Unlike summer nights and winter afternoons, spring doesn't feel suffocating when the sun is out, because the clouds do a job of covering the sun before it burns your skin. The wind dies down, and you begin to humm to the sonnet, the words so familiar you were almost sure if your memory was to be taken, those words would remain embedded, and make their way back up because they were an acceptance of everything you were and everything you felt. 

The final bell has rang, and you can see the swarm of teenage bodies rush out of the school, some go directly to the bus stop in groups, others head to the grass fields that make up most of the school's building. You don’t think much about where others go, don’t dwell much if they get home safely or if their parents will pick them up. Dwelling too much on thoughts a feeling never helped anybody, it’s a mantra that has been drilled into you and almost every other teenager and young adult in this lifetime as movies and books tell you to focus on the present never on the future and most definitely not in the future. Yet you wonder if these books written by great authors that make you question the world around you, or movies that seem to transcend time if the authors themselves that preach about not dwelling too much on one moment if they themselves spent too much time focusing on the sound of their love’s laughter, or the way their nose would scrunch up a reaction to the world around them anytime they found something amusing. You wonder if the person or memory they were told or did think about so much that it caused them heartache had the ability to make them write the poems you had written. So you try to not dwell on the people, no larger than your thumb as they rush from one side of the campus to another, because if you thought about him, it, for too long the memories would rush back in. Instead you look down, the light vertigo causing you to snap back into some realm of reality. 

 Sitting down on the roof’s edge, legs dangling off the edge you continue to hum and sing to the melody that plays in your heart, confession to yourself, a confession to the dark haired boy that captured your heart. The tears seem to swell up over and over as you reach the bridge, and they stream silently, down your face. They run down landing on your hands, on the ripped jeans and doodle converse. Your mind drifts to the memories connected with the lyrics and the fact that as much as you wanted to not want to hear jeno’s voice especially after you had pushed him away, you couldn’t get rid of the way he knew you. He knew you better than at times you almost thought you knew yourself, it was a nuisance the way your heart would skip beats months after everything went down, how it would still accelerate when you two would make eye contact because he had apologized and you don’t know if it was because you had never felt this way before, or because you two kept meeting underneath the moonlight the same song that seemed to connect the two of in one string of fate that you had forgiven him. But forgiveness didn’t mean forgetting, it didn’t mean that you had wished he’d called and you hate him - or lack thereof to do so - when days passed and the beep boop ba a compilation of random noises jeno would make whenever he was confused, and your ringtone for him didn’t disturb you. 

Your voice breaks slightly as the melody in your head falls, fading into a non-existent background. The sun had begun to fall, but you don’t notice, eyes closed as you take in the world around you. Notes ending, song and the hum of love never confessed, never expressed, stolen by the wind. And that’s the thing about having your eyes closed, oblivious to the world and the people around you, because you don’t hear the opening and closing of the slightly rusted door. You don’t notice the boy with a leather jacket, hair almost covering his eyes that are filled with so much love but confusion by the words that leave your mouth. It’s the thing about the wind, that it takes a message and delivers it to whom it wants you unlike a phone call that is directed at who you choose. The wind is a free spirit, and it doesn’t travel far. To be more exact it travels the short span of a mere seconds, a mere feet to jeno whose mouth has fallen at the sound of your voice so raw and pure. It is the wind that calls him to you, the wind that makes him take slow steps to you. 

Wind, a warm breeze in the coming summer air, love that you don’t realize you have, you need until it’s wrapping its arms around you.

                         But mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you.

The moment you feel arms wrapping around you still. Every bone in your body stops moving, your legs stop swinging and your voice catches in your throat. It isn’t until you spot the small cassette tattoo on the wrist of the arms wrapped around you that you breathe again and push yourself back, a curse escaping your lips. Laughter rings in your ears as jeno holds you up from where you sit, and turns you around so that you face him. You begin to push him away, on instinct from weeks of telling yourself that you wanted nothing to do with the boy in front of you. That the way his eyes dimmed, and lips curved down by the light gesture of pushing him away didn’t affect you. It was a mantra, push him away, don’t get hurt, a mantra produced by a time of hurt and fear for being broken again. Something that you had come to realize though in the past week, the past day, past couple of minutes when someone’s arms had warped around you and you had wished it had been jeno, that the heart and the mind don’t always coincide. 

It is when you look up again, and jeno is already looking at you, hair illuminated by the descending sun, as it casted flames dancing across his features, and lighting up his eyes, that you smile. Some sort of smile that repairs something in jeno, because his eyes seem to be filled with hope again and he opens his mouth ready to speak, ready to tell you everything he wanted to say again, mostly to apologize but when he opens his mouth the words seem to be caught in his throat. Stuck, as if there was some force pulling them back, not letting them escape and reach you. Mouth opens and closes again, and it’s the sound of your voice as you call to him, and say something he can’t quite process, blocked by the noise that doesn’t leave his head that he can finally speak again. 

“June 21” those weren’t supposed to be the words that lef this mouth, and your confused look didn’t give him any confidence to continue whatever the hell he was gonna do, which at this point he truly didn’t know because this was supposed to be an apology but he had already apologized. Jeno decided to do his best, and try again, “that was the day we met. The day you helped me finish composing this beautiful song that helped me get into music school. The day where the second i heard you singing off the words i threw out into the open air hoping for someone to grab onto, you did, and my heart seemed to begin it’s freefall” a small smile graced your features, as you remembered the day, not knowing how much life would change. The small smile is all jeno needed to continue, gaining confidence even as happiness filled every inch of you, tears that you promised you wouldn’t shed in front of him steamed but not from sadness or anger this time. This time they were from a place of loss and happiness to the boy whose eyes conveyed so much more than the words he spoke, whose hand had come up to your cheek wiping away the spare tears that would come down. Ever so gentle and full, always him. 

“It was something I didn't think was possible, you know? Coming to this new school, everyone had come up with their own ideas of who i was, because of stories they had heard, only to find you. Headstrong as ever, always standing by whatever you believe even some like pluto is still a planet” you both laugh, it’s a quick one, more like a chuckle but it’s filled with joy, at the memory. “You who didn’t care what the world thought, only that if you put your mind to it you would get it done. I never meant to fall in love with you, never meant to make you cry because of something that shouldn’t have ever happened, I never meant to get you too hate me the way you probably do” his eyes softened, and he pulled away ever so slightly, “but here I am. And i now i most definitely don’t deserve it but y/n, i can’t deny it because since i first heard your voice that late night i think i fell for you, and it has been a constant free fall from there. So when i say it now, i mean it i fucking love you” the end was more of a ramble, a long list of words that made your heart flip and expand in your chest, making your smile grow and you could see the doubt in his eyes, you could see him retreat back into himself, he completely let you go when you spoke up again, “you want to know what i hate the most?” you didn’t wait for a response before speaking again, grabbing his hands in yours, and you willed him to look at you. 

“I hate the way that I don't hate you” you take a step closer to him, your faces so close the sun casting glows on you both. Two shadows becoming one behind you as the sun set, as one confessed to another the way they felt. “Because i don’t hate you, jeno. In fact it’s the opposite, because hate is not even close, not a tiny bit in resemblance to what i feel you for you,

Not even close, Not even a little bit,  Not even at all.” 

adfghjk and it’s finally done !!! i had so so so much fun writing this piece and seriously hope you guys enjoyed it !! im such a sucker for jeno and this movie in general lol. i struggled w the ending so i hope it came out well :) n e ways,,, please please tell me your thoughts on it, what you liked? what you didn’t like? things i could improve on. much love to you all !!

masterlist

#nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct imagines #luna writes #nct scenerios #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream #nct dream scenerios #nct dream imagines #jeno scenerios #jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #fanfic

[sopxhiea]

Wicked

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Enemies to Lovers!

Warnings: Large age gap.

Summary: The familiar face Alfie stumbles upon finds her way into his sheets but there’s more than one risk the two are taking.

Part 1

“Where have you been all my life?” ‘Hiding from you.’

There’s a soft knock on the door followed by someone’s footsteps. They mumble something about a new buyer in this part of town, someone powerful but there’s no response. Your hand reaches for the coffee mug, you don’t remember when it came in or who put it but you grasp it tightly anyway.

It’s cold.

A sigh leaves your lips, frustration evident in your eyes while your eyes scan the room. It’s full of papers, work to go over and things to read so you make sure you don’t ruin the empire bestowed upon you by your deceased parents. You rub your eyes, your assistant comes in.

He tells you something about your brother’s whereabouts. You hate his guts, he wastes all his time and still gets his end of the profits. You hate the days where you’re stuck in the office, signing and reading papers you know are going to be thrown out once you secure the business but it has to be done. You look at the afternoon sky, the sun is beaming but you can tell it’s hotter than it looks.

He didn’t call.

The man who you thought would be your escape now seems like a distant memory. You’d thought he’d call and tell you that no matter just how fucked up it all sounds, he was willing to sleep with the enemy. You hadn’t waited in front of the phone but it had been in the back of your mind since yesterday when you’d made the offer.

It might be the past, you think. The first time Alfie saw you was when you were a mere teenager, grumpy and witty but those things hadn’t changed even though it had been four long years since the last time you’d seen him. He might still view you as that little girl, fragile and helpless but you’re more than sure he’s at least heard about you around and the things he heard would prove that you were the exact opposite of that little girl.

You try not to dwell on it but it’s all you can think of.

But you’re also grown, with more responsibilities than you were bargained for so you get to work. Reading paper after paper until your eyes can no longer stand the yellow material, you put your glasses on the table while your fingers reach to rub your eyes. It’s a dreadful day and the absence of his call makes it all worse.

You hear your assistant come in after a while, first he drops of some papers for you to have a look and then hands you a little envelope. You eye the white material, the stamp looks unfamiliar to you while you open the envelope as fast as you possibly can. You assistant watches the whole time, worried that it’s a threat of some sort to you or the company since it’s happened before.

You pull out the small card inside, having a look over before it hits you. With a motion of your hand, the assistant is gone and you’re left alone with the card. You can see it’s hand-written by someone else but you know they’re Alfie’s words. There’s not a lot of written words but somehow he manages to summarise a paragraph with only a couple sentences. You reach the end, giddy like a small kid.

You shake your head but the words make you feel warm inside like you’re in your younger years again. You read while a childish smile picks up on your lips.  “Let’s do this.”

-----------

The room feels cold but in a pleasant way. It’s sunny out, the drapes open and close each time the wind hits them with a gentle breeze. You hear the sounds of his heavy breathing, it fills you with comfort. It’s not everyday that you wake up next to a man let alone Alfie, it feels new yet very welcomed.

It’s casual, you say to yourself.

After yesterday’s letter, you’d found him waiting like a hungry animal at your doorstep. There were no questions asked, not by him nor you because you’d agreed that this was a lethal secret. You were enemies, not a dear couple since the universe seemed to have its cruel ways. 

Then it happened.

It was your skin against his while you tried to regain your breath, he was almost too good in bed if you thought about it too much. He’d worshipped you last night, that was the only way to put it. A smile formed on your sleepy lips as you got up to wash your face, waking him up in the process but he chose to watch than to intrude.

You started brushing your teeth when he came in the bathroom, giving you a dense look you chose to ignore since excitement seemed to be somewhere in there in his eyes. You couldn’t afford to fancy him, you’d settle for sleeping with him instead. 

He was the enemy.

His soft lips met your shoulder as he planted a soft kiss on the skin before washing his face. You watched him in his natural habitat, away from his scary looking cane and his dear assistant and the piles of papers with guns hidden behind them, it was just him.

He seemed younger somehow. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but he wasn’t so intimidating when he was like this, hair disheveled while he gave you a soft smile. He seemed more human and less of a gangster these streets made him out to be. 

“You’re starin’, luv.” he spoke, voice hoarse since it was early in the morning. He eyes your form, barely covered with the thin nightgown you were wearing but he’d seen all of you last night anyway, there was no reason to be ashamed.

“Are you complaining?” you asked after you were done brushing your teeth, eyeing his tattoos as they moved under the morning light. He looked picturesque.

“Didn’t say that, now, did I?” he spoke, amusement evident in his tone while he refrained from cursing as much as possible. You were a proper lady after all, not the rosy cheeked girl he once knew.

You led him through the corridor of your house, there was no one around despite the place being a mini mansion of sorts. One of the first things you’d done after bagging a lot of money was to invest them and that came in forms of houses in your terms. You’d told everyone of the house staff to go home for a day or two, you could manage and you had to when he was around, you couldn’t afford people seeing him with you.

He followed your lead like a lost puppy while you made your way towards the kitchen. It was way too big for one person but the staff usually ate with you so the space was frequently used. He watched you as you opened a couple drawers and took some stuff out, eggs and a pan and all that.

Turning towards him, you offered the most neutral smile you had at your disposal and spoke with a soft voice, he swore you looked like an angel in the morning light.

“How you do like your eggs, mister?” you asked, sassily as his lips formed his usual smirk. He was the man you adored all those years after all.

He still saw the little girl in you, the cheeky one who’d wear things that you knew would get him riled up that summer you returned as a younger woman. You were eighteen, trying to get the attention of the handsome gangster but he’d been wise to ignore the temptations.

Now that you were grown, he didn’t need to do that anymore. 

“Same as yours, miss.” he spoke, his low voice made you chuckle and you turned your back to him while getting breakfast ready.

He could very well cook himself, but he thinks he’d rather watch you do it. 

He blames himself for all the years that have gone by without you. Your playful self last saw him as an eighteen year old girl who was too smart for her own good but now you’re a little older. It’s been over four years since the gangster has seen you and he concludes, while still watching you make breakfast, that the rumours are true.

You are as whimsical as they said you’d grown to be.

He helps you set the table by putting the dishes on it and a couple more stuff from the fridge. You watch with protective eyes, trying to put up some sort of defence while the man manages to break every stereotype you thought he fit in. You find yourself sitting across his shirtless self while he slowly eats, not making a sound like he usually does while devouring his meals. He wants to be as proper as possible.

He knows this isn’t conventional.

“So how’s this goin’ to fuckin’ work, luv?” he speaks while watching you with the corner of his eye. His hands gestured in between you to show that he was talking about what had happened last night.

“I..uhm..” you say, a little taken aback but you welcome his bluntness. “I told the staff to steer clear for a couple days in case you were to visit.” you speak, getting ready to list a couple more things as he eats like a fine gentlemen, there’s a soft hum erupting from his lips each time you speak. 

“We’ll just be as discreet as possible, not alarm anyone of the possibility of......this.” you finish, hands copying the same move he did just a couple minutes prior as your fingers address him and then you.

He nods while another soft hum erupts from his large body, you watch him in amazement. It’s a wonder just how gentle this giant bear of a man is capable of being. He’s not the Alfie you knew all those years ago, you’re not sure anyway. You never saw him like this, bare and stripped from any danger. His gun is somewhere in his office drawer miles away and he doesn’t have a protective dog to bite anyone’s head off.

“Ya’ think it was a fuckin’ mistake?” he speaks and the words make you put your fork down. Maybe, he’s regretting this.

He watches you as you answer, not an ounce of doubt or fear in your eyes while he watches you speak with the shake of your head.

“No, I don’t. In fact, I quite enjoyed myself last night.” you speak, daring eyes matching his as he smiles, its cockiness mixed with pride.

“Could tell that from how fuckin’ loud ya’ were, doll.” he says with a chuckle but you know his words to be a joke so you kick him lightly under the table, it makes him drop his fork on to the tablecloth and he seems taken aback more than anything while staring at you with wide eyes.

“What the fuck are ya’ on about, woman!” he says but again, it’s lighthearted. You chuckle at his words, your smile is devilish against your lips while he waits for you to speak, a smile similar to yours find its way on his lips.

“It’s so that you be more careful with your words next time, luv.” you speak, mimicking him at the last part of your sentence while he watches you with amazement, then hunger takes over his features but he settles on eating the meal on the table than you at that given moment. Although he much prefers the second option.

He shakes his head. You’re still a kid inside, the little girl he knew and he can tell. You still posses the same attitude and the wittiness but there’s an elegance to you that comes with age, you’re more poised. The teenager who used to interrupt business meetings because the room was too hot is now the one making the deals, his eyes glisten at the thought.

“Do you think it was?” you speak, eyes not meeting his because there’s an evident trace of fear in your tone. He watches you act calm but your eyes tell the truth.

“A fuckin’ mistake?” he asks, deliberately trying to make you wait for the answer mostly because he enjoys the way a pink hue forms on your cheeks. You nod, not a word comes from your mouth but you answer the question regardless.

“Nah..” he speaks, he takes a slow sip of the tea in front of him, purposefully torturing you but you don’t give up that easy. You remain calm. “If anything, yeah, It was a fuckin’ miracle was wha’ it was.” he speaks once again and you release your breath. You hate how much he enjoys teasing you but you hate yourself more for falling for his small traps every time.

Then, he watches you light up.

Your cheeks are pink still but it’s more from happiness than fear of embarrassment. You let go of the spoon next to your tea cup softly while exhaling, your eyes sparkle under the morning sun and he watches the way your hair moves with the breeze coming from the window nearby. It’s just like he’s staring at a painting and he speaks before his mind can stop him, like a fool.

“Where have you been all my life?” His voice is hoarse, too rough even but you make the words out.

You don’t miss the sentence, it’s clear as day of anything. The whole morning up until that point, you spend the minutes reminding yourself that he is in fact the enemy. It’s a casual thing you both agreed on, nonchalant but also highly risky. And his words don’t make it easier on the walls built around your heart.

But you’re not to one to fall in love so easily, you’ve been a project in the making by your father and the walls are made of steel.

He can’t melt them.

‘Hiding from you.’ you speak, a small smile on your lips that’s only half genuine but he doesn’t pick up on it, he possibly can’t.

So instead he laughs, it’s another taken aback chuckle at first that turns into a loud laughter that fills the room. It’s pleasant if anything. You don’t find yourself trying to find excuses to get out like each time your brother laughs. Alfie’s laugh is much more heartwarming.

“We better get going.” you speak, voice soft but the words are demanding as his eyes bore into yours.

He doesn’t say anything but agree with the nod of his head. You ignore the next few moments while he helps you tidy up. His finger brushes against your shoulder, electricity resides there for a couple minutes but you don’t think about it. You also don’t think about the way his hand finds your waist to get you out of the way so he can put the pan back on the higher shelf where you can’t reach.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re out.

-----

“We can’t possibly make business with him!” you brother shouts from the other end of the room, you can see how furious he is but it’s better than you’d expected.

You look at him right in the eye and wait for another word, you know he’s not done. Your eyes don’t leave his figure while he paces around the room, very furious but you’re mad at yourself for suggesting such a thing.

To make a deal with the enemy. The enemy that slept on your bed with his arms around you last night, to be exact.

“He’s a fucking madman! Have you got no sense?” you hear Jack’s voice booming around the place but you’re not fully there. Your mind is off wandering how you’ll try to console him after your stupid words.

“Alright, calm down.” you speak, walking towards him in a calm manner but he doesn’t seem a tad suspicious. You count on the fact that Jack has never been the smartest. “It was just a suggestion, okay? We’ll find some other way to go about it.” you say while stroking his arm, his hair is disheveled and you know he’s heading for the pub when he walks out abruptly. 

You stare at the empty walls the moment he slams the door on your face, there’s no use of calling behind him or trying to get him to stop. You’ll have him picked up from the bar at midnight by the driver, you know he’s going to be drinking his weight. 

It’s no wonder why he’d reacted the way he did, Alfie had never been a pleasant memory for the whole family. He was the one making the dangerous deals, the ones a dozen men would get killed for. And although you did not mind at all, he had also done some damage to your family’s business at the time, one that got out of hand after a while.

You didn’t blame him for it, he wasn’t the sole reason. It was mostly your father’s fault for thinking he could crack more than a couple deals with his rivals and it had blown up on his face, naturally. Alfie’s name was thrown around for a while, for the things he’d done and the crimes he’d committed but you’d always excuse yourself.

It wasn’t because his hands were bloody, yours were the same now. You had seen his kindness in the business meetings, mostly towards you since the rest of your family happened to be insufferable. Your father was all the same, he’d done just as terrible things as Alfie but he lacked mercy at the side. 

You picked up the telephone and started dialling, there were one too many things going on in your mind and you desperately needed some common sense. So you called the only man you knew could be objective. 

He was fast to pick up.

“Hey....It’s me. Could I see you today?”

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​ @bicevans​ @mollybegger-blog  @97freaknik.  @fuseburner  

#alfie #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons peaky blinders #alfie solomons scenario #alfie solomons series #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons ssmut #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinder imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders alfie #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders scenario #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #alfie solomons angst #Tom Hardy #tom hardy smut #tom hardy scenario #tom hardy series #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fic #tom hardy fluff #tom hardy alfie #tom hardy alfie solomons

[archived-gtronpa-account]

Ooo maybe some tiny shuichi content and kokichi! ( luv ur stuff btw :)! My initials are S.S btw-)

okok (first of hii s.s and thanks sec anon you're super super sweeeet) so I'm making this one into an au and I'll be happy to ramble any it if someone sends an ask abt it 😳👉👈👉👈

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Word count: 1700

Summary: Overtaken by a sudden, overwhelming feeling of despair, Shuichi goes for a stroll alone at night and ends up putting himself in danger's hands.

____

He didn’t deserve his title. He didn’t deserve it and the ultimate initiative was merciless and didn’t want to change his situation. How could anyone call Ultimate Detective the boy who’d solved a case by accident and ruined a man’s life doing so? Shuichi didn’t like the sound of his title, he didn’t like it when his uncle or classmates would call him that, as if it was something to be proud of.

Shuichi went to the forest near his home. If he didn’t deserve his title yet then maybe he could earn it by solving the case of people disappearing there; if he couldn’t solve it, then he’d at least become one of them. He didn’t have a preference for the outcome as long as it changed his situation.

The night was dark and the snow was thick and Shuichi wondered if the missing people hadn’t died buried under feet and feet of snow. With every step he took his feet would sink in to knee level.

Up ahead and past impossibly tall trees there was a cabin. It was much larger than even his uncle’s place, but most importantly, the lights there were on. The detective hurried on to drag his feet there as fast as his tired brain would allow. When he got closer, he noticed a short girl playing in the snow outside. He tried to call out to her, but any words that formed in his mouth turned into a dry cough that cut his throat like glass shards. At least it did get her attention, but when she saw him she ran inside the cabin and slammed the door. Soon after, all lights went off.

Through the haze in his mind, it took a moment for Shuichi to realize he wasn’t supposed to still hear a set of shoes crunching on the snow after the girl had left. He turned around and looked left and right (he winced at the gesture; his neck felt stiff). As far as he could see in the darkness, there wasn’t anyone else. Then he turned back around and was faced with unfamiliar black. Up his gaze went, higher and higher upon white folds of fabric, until it settled on a grinning face looming overhead.

Shuichi’s mind didn’t comprehend the abnormality so much as it registered danger.

“Oh boy, look at this catch.”

A low whine escaped his lips, and Shuichi allowed his tired body to give out and sink deep in the snow until he could feel the cold seeping in at his forehead. He stayed there, paralyzed and frozen and oddly calm for maybe hours before he felt a faint pressure on his arm. Rather than get shattered like Shuichi feared it would, it only got pulled upward, dragging his body along until he could see the snowy scene again and a hand taller than himself pulling him up. Gravity fought to pull him down and Shuichi felt so heavy he couldn’t breathe. Only when he was lowered to rest his back against a wall could he finally take a deep breath in.

“Wouldn’t you know it, Shuichi Saihara came venturing here.” He barely caught the words past the blood roaring in his ears. Even with every limb and every muscle in his body worn down with exhaustion, he could still feel the pain of his heart pounding against his ribcage.

“How do you know me?” Despite his struggle to keep his mind awake and alert, Shuichi’s voice came out loud and clear, almost ready for an interrogatory. Past half lidded eyes, the detective tried to keep his gaze firm on the giant. It was an odd feeling for Shuichi not to properly realize the presence of a titanic boy with him; it felt almost trivial, like a fact read in textbook. He wanted to be more afraid, to run off and go back home and to his uncle, but he couldn’t get his body to move and act, couldn’t hold back the curiosity that could get him in trouble.

“The news. Congrats on the Ultimate title.” He only heard the words but didn’t see lips moving. Shuichi opened heavy eyes he didn’t realize he’d closed and looked again at the gigantic, childish face with a large grin and deathly pallor. He wondered if the stranger wasn’t born on the coldest day of the year.

The second time he noticed his eyes had closed was when Shuichi felt more of the cold, gentle pressure but only saw darkness. He cracked a lazy eye open and saw two hands wrap a monochromatic cloth around his frame. Even with his hazy mind and spotty vision, he could see every smallest detail of the large hands and snow white skin with remarkable clarity; he felt like a doll between these hands.

His gaze was lost in the snow white skin until the hands retreated and he snapped back to reality. A single shiver ran through his body, and Shuichi grasped the fabric and wrapped it tighter around himself. A moment later, all at once, he felt the cold biting down every inch of his skin, and his body was overcome with a series of uncontrollable shudders. Heat seeped in his freezing limbs, the air in his lungs warmed up, the fog in mind cleared, and Shuichi exhaled sharply when he finally looked far up at the strange being with all the wariness and fear he should have felt long ago.

Shuichi couldn’t help but think he looked slightly different, only he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the change.

“Looking better already! Now, what brings you here?”

“… I’m not sure.”

“Hmm? You should, though. You know people who come here never come back,” Then the giant boy’s face lit up and his eyes gleamed with joy, “Or perhaps, is that what you want?”

Was it? Shuichi wasn’t sure, he didn’t know a whole lot at the moment; he didn’t know why he had followed his whim and ventured in a forest on a winter night, didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of how worried his uncle would be, didn’t know who the girl was and why she’d hid from him, didn’t know why he was having a civilized conversation with a massive stranger who could squeeze his organs out with a single finger over his chest. But at the very least, Shuichi knew for sure that he didn’t want to deal with the surrealism of his situation any longer, he didn’t want to worry his uncle. He wanted to go home. Gaze still firm on the pair of gigantic purple eyes, Shuichi shook his head.

The other boy let out a long, dramatic sigh. “What a shame, I really wanted you in my collection, but I guess that’s not happening today.”Shuichi didn’t protest more than a sputter when the hands taller than him came closer and cupped around his bundled-up form. His breath hitched in his throat, and he wrapped his arms tighter around himself when he felt gravity shift and heard an “Upsy-daisy,” from above.

The giant boy stood up to his full height, and Shuichi swore to himself he wouldn’t look down to the ground. Instead, he looked up to the stars shining over his head. The sky looked nothing like what he’d see back home, when he’d go to the rooftop on lonely nights. Shades of colors mixed and merged in the sky, dark indigo faded into soft lilac and charcoal. Yellow ocher met rosewood and hints of dull orange and every shade in between like a flower field, shifting and swirling about. Millions of tiny sparks of dead stars shone bright in the galaxy, scattered about like broken glass, some shards bigger, brighter than others. A clear night sky would reflect the Milky Way, Kaito had told him once. Kaito would have loved this place.

Several fleeting thoughts filled the detective’s head, millions as the stars in the night sky. He settled for the question that had brought him there, “Where do the missing people go?”

“Oh, those? I ate them for dinner,” The giant boy eyed him down. His eyes, too, reflected galaxies and flower fields and broken glass, and Shuichi took a second too long to tear his gaze away and react to statement with a grimace. The boy only spared him a quick smirk before looking away. “Kidding, kidding. Fine, I’ll let you on a little secret if you promise not to tell the authorities.” He nodded, then had to wait a moment for the giant to speak. “They don’t wanna come back, and I make sure that doesn’t happen. But that’s not what you want, right? Where do you live?”

Shuichi stayed silent for a moment; mulling the answer over, thinking back to the strange girl he’d seen. His frustratingly tired mind couldn’t come up with a satisfying deduction, so he moved on and gave his vague address.

“So we’re neighbors, huh? Wild. You should totally rent somewhere else. Anywaaay, let’s pretend all of this was a dream, ‘kay? Buh-bye, Shuichi, hope I’ll never see you again here.” One last time, he looked back to the cabin the woods, before letting his eyelids drop and his consciousness drift off.

When he woke up in his room, Shuichi didn’t feel any less tired then when he’d gone to sleep in his bed. Cold gripped his bones and nipped at his skin, a strong gust of icy wind hit his cheek, and Shuichi winced and shuddered. He got up and walked over to his window. Before closing it and going back to sleep, he let his gaze wander over to the sky, pitch black with tiny stars shining here and there if he squinted hard enough. He frowned, let his head drop down and his gaze get lost in the milky white snow.

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #gtronpa #gt #Shuichi saihara #Kokichi ouma #tiny!shuichi #giant!kokichi #saiouma #oumasai #writing #request #you guessed it- im naming this the #citw au #Cabin In The Woods AU #Danganronpa AU

[portals-to-a-new-world]

Ignorance is Bliss (Parts 1&2)

(gif credit to @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth)

Who?: Billy Butcher x Reader

What?: Y/n discovers that Butcher sleeps in the nude

Word Count: 1820

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT 18+!!!, Language (as I mentioned in the original, if you watch the boys you know the man has a mouth fouler than the pits of hell itself), ONCE AGAIN SMUT

A/N: Hey yall! Sorry it’s been taking me so long to get stuff out but work has been kicking my ass. Anyway, if you didn’t see the original post, this was inspired by a post I saw reminding the world that Butcher sleeps a la naked. Thank you very much to @bakerstreethound for everything she does 💜💜💜

You were tired. 8 hours on the road, chasing down a lead that turned out to be yet another dead end, and you just wanted a hot shower and sleep. Preferably in that order. You sighed in relief as you pulled into the cheap Motel the boys had been staying at. At least it didn’t look as seedy as the last place you’d stayed in. Ever since Vought caught onto the plan to bring them down, you’d been staying at a different location each week to keep them off of your scent. You grabbed the bag you kept packed from the backseat and headed towards your room. It took you a few moments of fumbling around in the bag before you pulled out the key card and swiped it through the reader. Your brow furrowed as nothing happened. You tried it one more time before you remembered that Butcher gave you the spare card to his room, just in case. You groaned and felt around your bag until you found the right card, breathing out a sigh as it worked. You didn’t bother turning the lights on until you reached the bathroom, wanting to shower and fall into bed as quickly as possible. Another groan escaped you as you began to strip down, muscles stiff from driving all day. As you reached out to turn on the shower, a voice sounded out behind you.

“Don’t let me stop you, luv, coz this is a great fucking view,” You screamed and dove for a towel as the deep voice that could only belong to Butcher continued. “But what the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I-” The words fell dead at the sight that greeted you when you looked up. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, smirk out in full force as you were confronted with the knowledge that Billy Butcher, hunter of superheroes and badass vigilante, apparently sleeps in the nude. Your eyes trailed down his chest, following the lines of muscles, man those shirts he wore hid just how cut he was, to the sheet draped across his lap. You swallowed hard, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself before you continued. “I guess I mixed up the room numbers. It’s really been one of those days.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. Of course, this would happen. Almost get your cover blown by an ex who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Check. Waste an entire day on some bullshit conspiracy theorist pretending to have evidence about Compound V? Check. Walk in on the man who’d been invading your dreams ever since you first met? Bonus, he’s naked!

“I take it the lead was a crock o’ shite, then?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“That is the understatement of the fucking century,” You said, moving to sit down before you remembered you were clad in only a towel. The thought of having to change back into clothes and go all the way back to your actual room almost had you in tears. “Do you uh- do you mind if I borrow your shower? I’d use mine, but I don’t think I’ll make it that far without my back seizing up.”

“Sure, one condition tho,” He said, cocking his head to one side before standing to his feet. Your breath caught in your throat as you fought to keep your eyes locked on his. You stepped back with each step he took closer until he had you backed against the counter.

“What’s that?” You managed to choke out.

“You let me join ya, and make up for sendin’ ya on that wild goose chase,” His words sent heat flaring straight through your core, and you nearly moaned when his hand began to toy with the skin just beneath the edge of your towel. “Can’t promise you’ll be any less sore after tho.”

“Butcher-” Your words were once again cut off with a gasp, this time by him grinding his hips against you. Your towel did nothing to conceal just how thick and hard he was, and you could only hope it hid just how embarrassingly wet you were. You shook your head to try and clear your thoughts. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh, c’mon now luv. We’ve been dancing ‘round each other for fuckin ages now,” He leaned in closer as he spoke. You shook your head slowly as his lips drew nearer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t-”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you. Fuckin diabolical,” His hand came up to grip your jaw, not quite low enough to choke you but enough to make you inhale sharply. “Like you wanna fuckin eat me alive.” By then, his lips were ghosting yours, sending shivers down your spine. Fuck it

“You gonna let me? Eat you alive?” You asked. His resulting smirk gave you the only answer you needed before your lips slammed together hungrily. Butcher wasted no time in yanking the towel from your form. His hands immediately found your breasts, palming and kneading the soft flesh as you gasped against his lips. He took full advantage of the opening to dominate your tongue with his own, not that you didn’t put up a fight in the process. Like everything with Butcher, the kiss was rough and intense. He nearly had you in a puddle at his feet, and he’d barely gotten started. The thought sparked a new wave of defiance in you, and you thrust your hands into his surprisingly soft hair and tugged sharply as you bit at his lip. He growled in response, and his hand came down harshly on your ass. “Ow! You bastard-” Your scolding was cut off, though, as his fingers dipped between your legs. He hummed in satisfaction at the slickness he found, his trademark smirk once again gracing his lips.

“Call me a bastard all you want; you’re still soaking wet for me.” He didn’t give you a chance to snark back, thrusting two fingers deep inside you as he began to nip and suck down your neck. Your arm wrapped around his shoulder for support as your legs threatened to give out. He caught on and wrapped an arm around your waist as his other hand began to pick up its pace. His thumb moved to stroke your clit right as he curled his fingers perfectly, and you moaned his name loudly. “See now that’s what I want to hear.” You groaned and threw your head back.

“Oh, fuck off,” You said. Suddenly his hands were gone, and you whined at the loss of contact as he backed away. “Butcher?”

“You told me to fuck off.” He said with a shrug before lifting his hand and popping his fingers in his mouth. He grinned and turned to walk into the bathroom as you stammered.

“Damn it, Butcher, you know that’s not what I meant!” You stomped into the bathroom after him, but he continued to ignore you as he stepped into the shower.

“Fuckin’ hell, why’s the water so fuckin hot?” You rolled your eyes and stepped in after him, faltering slightly at the sight of him dripping wet before you. He might be psychotic, but damn if the man wasn’t good looking. “There you go again with that look,” He said, drawing your eyes back to his. This time his smirk was paired with almost predatory eyes, dark and hungering as he stalked towards you in the small space. You licked your lips and shrugged. You started to reply, but you never got the chance before he was lifting you up and pinning you against the wall. You squealed and latched onto him, ignoring his amused chuckles. “’ Fraid I’m gonna drop you?” He murmured against the skin beneath your ear. You shuddered slightly at the sensation before you responded.

“Nah, just making sure you can’t walk away from me again.” He laughed, a genuine laugh that made your heart skip a beat, before moving to bury himself to the hilt within you. You both moaned at the feeling, and he paused for a moment, both to savor it and give you time to adjust to his size. He pulled back from your neck to look you in the eyes as he started to move in slow, deep, thrusts that had you biting your lip in an effort to keep quiet. His gaze was powerful and intoxicating, drawing you in like an invisible magnet. Every wave of pleasure that crossed his face added to your own, and you finally had to break away and bury your face in his neck as he pounded straight through you. You were dancing along the brink of your climax, but you still needed more. “Butcher I-” He seemed to know exactly what you were asking before you could ask.

“I’ve gotcha, luv.” He slipped out of you and set you on your feet before spinning you around. “Fuck me, what an ass, this is.” He said offhandedly as he bent you forward slightly before sliding back in. You groaned and fell forward to brace yourself against the wall as this new angle brushed against all new spots inside of you. His hands moved back up to your throat, putting enough pressure to force you to arch your back, and down to rub harshly at your clit as he knocked you up the wall. “You gonna fucking come for me?” He growled in your ear as your moans echoed around the small bathroom. “Hmm? Gonna come all over this fuckin cock like a good girl?” His words were the final shove you needed before you were falling over the edge with a shout of his name. “Fuckin hell, (Y/N/N)” He groaned as he pulled out and came all over your back. You both stood there for a while, just catching your breath before he reached around and grabbed a washcloth to wipe you clean. At your raised eyebrow, he paused and shrugged in question. “Wot? I’m not a complete asshole.” You huffed out a laugh and gave him a pat on the chest.

“Never said you were.” He gave you a skeptical look before pulling you back underneath the spray.

“C’mon. Let’s get clean before the hot water runs out. Then we can discuss your sleeping arrangements.” He said. Once again, you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“My sleeping arrangements? What about them?” He reached around you to grab the soap before replying.

“Well, figured you since you didn’t want to go back to your room, you could sleep here, but it’s gonna cost you.” Mischief danced in his eyes, and you couldn’t stop the smirk on your lips.

“I’m sure I’ll think of some way to repay you.” You said as he grinned.

“Atta fucking girl.”

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Tag List (Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed or if I forgot you):

@bakerstreethound​ @im-like-reallythirsty​ @rayray1463​ @waaaaaaitwhat​ @fairytale07​ @becs-bunker​ @kid-from-new-zealand​ @mblaqgi​

#billy butcher x reader #smut

[neerasrealm]

AAAAAAAAAAA I LOVED that poly!Slender x reader x LJ!! I didn’t originally request it, but if it’s not too much, can I please request a sequel (featuring the adorable Slendra Jackson?) Ty! 😁😁

Anon you have no idea how happy this request made me- I NEVER get asks about my OCs so you calling Slendra adorable and aSKING TO INTERACT WITH HER??? MADE ME REALLY REALLY HAPPY SO THANK YOU- sorry this ask took a bit to answer, I only got your ask late in the evening so I had to finish it off over the course of my morning. Thank you again for the ask!! I hope you like what I came up with- (put it under a cut since it’s a little long)

‘’More wine, dear?’’ Slender asks you from across the couch. It’s late, and quiet. A rare combination here in the mansion. Somehow, every other person in the mansion is downstairs, in their room or somewhere else. Meaning you and your two boyfriends are free to occupy the couch by yourselves and have a quiet evening, and you couldn’t ask for more. Being curled up against Jack’s soft body with Slender’s arms wrapped around you both. Even Jack is being quiet for once, his face resting against Slender’s chest. He might be asleep- you’re honestly not sure.

‘’Sure.’’ you murmur back, looking up at Slender. He seems to smile despite his lack of face and reaches over to the coffee table, pouring you some wine from the already-half empty bottle sitting on it. A benefit of not being human, you guessed, was being able to drink a lot of the stuff without worrying about intoxication. As you’re taking another sip from your glass a soft, shy voice interrupts you.

‘’Mama? Pops? Dad?’’ 

The three of you look over at the voice’s owner. A short girl with fiery hair and brownish-purple skin. Her eyes are bright and gold, and she has pale red horns and dark red claws that scratch gently against the bannister she’s holding. Your shared daughter- it’s odd, she’s not related to you, she’s adopted like every other child in the mansion, but she’s one of the few that calls you mom. Everyone took fairly naturally to you dating the mansion’s ‘dads’, just treating it like you were dating anyone else, but Slendra? She’s been calling you mom since day one. Not that you're complaining.

‘’Need somefink, luv?’’ Jack murmurs behind you. He sits up a bit. 

Slendra shifts where she stands. ‘’...can I get a bedtime story?’’ she asks quietly. Slender IMMEDIATELY sits up, alert. ‘’I-I know I’m a little old for it but-’’

‘’Ye can’t ou’grow bedtime stories, kiddo.’’ Jack says. Slender nods. You can’t help but smile a little bit at the two’s excitement- though Slender’s is far more obvious. You can’t blame them. Slendra is beginning to hit that- odd phase where kids think they need to act like adults. Except she’s only five years old. Damn demon aging. ‘’Ow abou’ me an’ Slen do i’ fer ya? I’ll do th’ voices an’ ‘e can narra’e. Like when ye were li’le.’’

You look at the two of them. ‘’I want in too.’’

‘’Ye can be th’ damsel in distress.’’

You give Jack an offended look and playfully slap his chest. ‘’Rude. Slender fits the damsel role better and you know it.’’

‘’...I do look good in a dress.’’ Slender says as he climbs off the couch. You and LJ cackle in amusement. Slendra giggles shyly.

The three of you follow Slendra upstairs to her room and walk inside. Her room is like a mix between Jack’s room and Slender’s office. Her walls are a deep lavender with darker swirls running across them. Her bed is round, oddly, and covered in pillows. She has a desk piled high with books and papers for her drawing and writing habits and her ceiling is covered in not only glow in the dark stairs, but music notes too. Her carpet is soft and your socked feet sink right into it. There's shelves on nearly every wall, full of toys, trinkets or books.

The little demon girl crawls into her bed and grabs her favorite stuffed toy- a purple and green dog you tried to win for her at a carnival but...well of course the game was rigged. It was actually her older brother EJ who managed to win it for her. With a little help from his demonic strength of course. She named it Scam, and you’re still proud of her for that.

The three of you all sit down at the foot of her bed. "Wha're ye in th' mood fer then?" Jack asks.

"Can you make a story?" Slendra asks, her eyes shining. A toothy grin curls up Jack's face. 

"Oh, I ge' ta flex me wri'in' t'nigh', eh?" He reaches into a puffy sleeve and pulls out a book. Slendra grins excitedly. You glance at the book's cover. Apparently Jack's homemade bedtime story is called 'The Damsel's Dragon'.

He clears his throat and opens the book. "Once upon a time, there wuz a pre'y young lass named…" Jack holds the book over to Slender. He shoots Jack an annoyed look and sighed.

"Damsel N. D. Stress." He finishes in the most airy, feminine voice you've ever heard him do. The three of you laugh while Slender fixes his tie. 

"Damsel wuz th' pre'ies' lass in th' land. People came far an' wide ta see 'er an' 'er collection 'f antique ties. All th' men in th' land wanted 'er 'and in marriage, bu' she wanted none 'f tha'." You watch Jack hold the book over to Slender again. 

"I hate you." Slender mutters. Slendra giggles. "Oh if only a big, handsome clown would come to admire my ties... if only…"

You laugh so hard you almost fall off the bed. Jack's hand reaches over quickly, his palm against your back, and pushes you back up. You snicker. "Sorry, sorry continue."

"Damsel spen' 'er days in 'er castle, wishin' an 'opin as th' worl' wen' by. Until one day, th' castle began ta shake! 'Er ties fell off th' shelves, 'er wine smashed to the ground!"

"Not the wine!" Slender exclaims in that airy, overly dramatic voice. You snicker again. 

"Th' castle stopped rockin' an' Damsel ran up ta th' top tower ta see wha' 'ad 'appened. When she go' up there, she saw a big migh'y dragon sleepin' on 'er castle's roof!" Jack stops and nudges you. "Ye're th' dragon." He whispers. You grin. 

The book is handed to Slender again. "Mr dragon, whatever are you doing up on my roof?" He exclaims. Jack holds the book over to you. Slendra looks at you excitedly. You're nowhere near as good at voices when compared to Slender and Jack, but Slendra doesn't seem to mind. You clear your throat.

"I'm taking a nap of course!" You growl out. Jack smiles as he passes the book to Slender again.

"Fockin' 'orrifyin', luv."

"Jack!" The three of you yelp. He laughs a bit.

"Sorry."

"Well you can't nap up here!" Slender continues with the story. "This is my castle! You have to go somewhere else!"

You lean over Jack's shoulder to see your next line. "Mmmm…No." You say. 

"Now Damsel wuz'nt tha' dumb. She knew be'er than ta argue wiv a dragon, an' so she wen' back into 'er castle an' began lookin' fer a way to ge' rid of th' dragon." 

"Good to know you don't see me as a total idiot." Slender murmurs.

"Wha' do ya mean? This isn' you, i's Damsel."

"Of course it is."

Jack grins to himself and looks back at the book. "She looked through 'er ye ol' phone book an' foun' somefink ta 'elp 'er!" He looks up at Slendra for a moment. "Th' mos' famous dragon extermina'or in th' worl'. 'Er name wuz Jackie Ardlens."

You force yourself to to 'awe' at the Slendra self-insert. She doesn't seem to have realised the character is literally named after her. 

"Jackie came ta th' castle an Damsel led 'er up ta th' tower."

"It's terrible!" Slender exclaims. "That great big ugly dragon does nothing but snore all day!"

"I don't snore." You retort. Slendra looks at you. You clear your throat. "I don't snore." You say again, this time in your dragon voice. She laughs. 

"Oh dragon," Slender continues with the story, ignoring you. "I've brought someone to drive you away!" You can't help but smile at how much he's actually getting into this role. Slendra is certainly enjoying it too.

"Huh? Drive me away?" You growl back at him. "How am I supposed to fit into a car?"

A grin curls up Jack's face. "Jackie stepped forward an' looked up a' th' dragon." He passes the book to Slendra who looks surprised, but then smiles wide.

"I've come to make you leave this poor lady alone!" She reads. "Why do you want to stay on this castle so bad?" 

"Why the sun of course, it's nice and warm up here. And this castle is the comfiest bed I've ever had!" You read back. 

"Hm…" Slendra cups her chin in her hand, pretending to think. "Well I say we build a new tower for you to sleep on! That way both of you will be happy."

Slender clasps his hands together. "Of course! That can be arranged." He says. Jack takes the book back and turns to the very last page.

"An' so, they buil' a big ol' tower fer th' dragon ta sleep on, an Damsel continued ta collec' 'er ties an' live 'appily ever after." He closes the book and smiles. "The end."

Slendra smiles wide. "I liked that one."

"Good." Jack leans in and kisses her forehead. "Now ge' yer res, swee'pea." He says softly while Slender pats the girls head. 

"Mama?" As you're following Jack and Slender out of the room Slendra calls you. You stop and look at her, curled up around Scam, a bright golden eye looking at you. "I love you."

You swear you can feel yourself practically melt for a moment. You smile at her. "I love you too, sweetheart." You say softly. She smiles, a couple fangs glinting in the light, then closes her eyes and snuggles up under the covers.

#creepypasta #creepypasta oc #creepypasta x reader #slenderman x reader #slenderman #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #slenjack #writing #writing requests #request #ask #anon #anonymous

[cloudywriter]

vanilla pudding cups - 2

~~~

A/N: hey guys, sorry i changed the name but i really hated the first one, it didn’t really fit. in a few chapters you’ll get the new title, but anyway i like it much better! im sorry if this chapter isn’t the best, i kinda pumped it out bc y’all were liking it & i like making people happy ya know, enjoy luvs

masterlist & AO3

~~~

Feyre woke up with a surprising amount of energy, usually she felt fatigued and spent most of her days lounging in her bed with earbuds in and a sketchbook laying in her lap. She decided she would use this new found energy to tape up her accumulating pile of various sketches she wanted up on her wall.

She threw on a pair of loose, grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, stained with her attempts at using charcoal, soon setting out on her voyage to acquire a ladder.

Surprisingly, it was an easy task. All she had to do was sweet talk the maintenance guy a little bit, throw in the whole I have cancer and she had a ladder leaning against her wall in no time. 

--

Rhys, however, had a less pleasant start to the day. Alis had let herself in that morning with a plate in one hand and the same clipboard in another. 

She informed him that unfortunately his day would consist mostly of testing and scans to determine just how bad it was. She left Rhysand to get ready and eat his breakfast of rubbery, bland tasting eggs and one of those nasty little plastic cups of mixed fruit. 

As the day went on, Rhys lost count of how many needles punctured his skin and how many cups of contrast solution he had to gulp for his scans.

Finally, he fell back into bed later in the evening feeling drained, though he had barely lifted a finger. But the mass amount of poking and prodding he endured only cemented in his mind that he was truly right back where he started a year ago. The realization was mind-numbing. 

He hadn’t even called Mor, Cassian, Az, or Amren to ask for their support. He didn’t feel like he had had the time to truly mourn the life that had become his over the last few months, the life he was losing. He needed a moment, when he got a moment he would let himself fall apart. For only a moment before he would have to put back on the mask of the Rhys his family had come to know. The Rhys that wasn’t afraid of death, the Rhys that still had faith that he could make it, that this new battle wasn’t a lost cause.

In truth, Rhysand was terrified of the idea of death, of leaving them behind. To think of the lives they would live without him was like a punch to the stomach, the kind that leaves you sprawled on the ground struggling to suck in air. 

Just as his mask began to crack, just as the tears began to prick his eyes, as the sinking feeling in his stomach intensified, and the air felt heavy, too thick to breathe properly, the faint sound of a violin captured his attention. It was a small tether keeping him anchored to reality and he felt the pull. 

Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, he had slipped out of his door and was outside of another; the one that was undoubtedly the source of the violin. 

It felt as if he was watching himself in a dream as he pushed open the door. 

And there she was.

A nostalgic feeling as if he were reliving a fever dream took root. A girl was sitting atop a metal ladder. The setting sun sent light streaming in through the floor to ceiling window, illuminating her; her long, honey-colored hair was glowing gold. Her skin was pale, without any hint of a tan but her arms were dotted with faint freckles as if she had once spent all of her days basking in the sun. Strips of tape lined her fingers and she held the dispenser between her teeth, her free hand holding a piece of paper to the wall. 

Rhys found himself staring at her rather than making his presence known. The combined sound of soothing classic music emitting from a laptop on the bed and her sun-lit silhouette had him mesmerized. She honestly looked like an angel in the flesh, if angels wore sweat pants and oversized, charcoal stained t-shirts that is.

As soon as Rhys started to regain his wits a screech came from behind him. 

“FEYRE ARCHERON, GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

Rhys and the girl, Feyre, both spun to face Nurse Alis who stood in the threshold. 

He heard the ladder groan behind him, the patter of bare-feet on tile, and the warmth of a body came to rest next to him. 

His head pivoted to look at her to find she was already examining him herself. 

She looked him up and down then met his gaze. Her eyes were vivid, so blue with a ring of grey around the pupil and they were so full of life. The same soft freckles that decorated her arms danced across the bridge of her nose. Her left cheek had a smear of charcoal across it. A small smile came to her lips as their eyes meet. He thought she really was an angel.

“Feyre, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She broke eye contact, “I’m hanging up some of my sketches.” 

“Using a ladder? Alone? You could fall and crack your head open! And I’m your assigned nurse! They’d blame me and then I’d have to scrap your brains off the floor while looking for a new job!” Alis cried, eyes wide. 

“I guess that sounds like a less than pleasant afternoon for you,” Feyre considered.

“Uh huh, less than pleasant. Where the hell did you even get a whole ladder?”

Feyre shrugged, “Tarquin, the maintenance guy, and I are pretty cool.”

Alis rolled her eyes. “You guilt-tripped him with the cancer card.”

“Works every time,” Feyre looked satisfied with herself. 

“Yeah, well, next time guilt him into supervising you too.”

As their short exchange came to a close, Alis’s face lit up, “I see you met our newest resident, Rhysand.”

Feyre gave me another glance. “If you count meeting as found him staring at me then sure.”

Rhysand felt his cheeks and neck heat as the embarrassment that that is literally what he did set in. 

“Sorry,” he began to sputter, “I-I heard the music and just ended up in here, I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

Feyre gave him a playful smile and held out her hand.

Rhys hesitated only a moment before taking her smaller hand into his. 

Instead of usual, mundane introductions, Feyre ripped off the bandaid. 

“So, you’re dying too?”

Rhysand’s stomach didn’t drop as he heard the raw words, he felt weirdly at peace in her presence.

“That’s what they tell me.”

Alis cleared her throat, “I hate to interrupt this heart-warming exchange but I was actually here to grab Rhysand for a moment.” 

Feyre tore her gaze from Rhys. “Oh, okay,” her shoulders slumped a microscopic amount. 

Quickly, Rhysand found himself being led down the hallway, the calm aura dissipating. He wasn’t fully listening as Alis explained that they needed to draw a little more blood, his mind just kept wondering back to you know who.

He tried to focus his attention to his hands as he always did when getting blood drawn when he noticed: a smear of charcoal had been left across palm.

His lips tugged up at the corners ever so slightly. 

~~~

hope this is alright! kinda cliche but what are you gonna do? also leave a reply if you wanna be tagged in updates i think that’s a thing people do lol.

#feysand fanfiction #feysand #feysand fanfic #acotar #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar au #feysand au #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhys fanfic #vanilla pudding cups #are you dying too?

[jocelyn-wellson]

21 Years Ago (September)

"Ya donnae 'ave ta walk me there," snapped Jocelyn. "I kin figh' fer meself."

Kasyade and the Captain traded a look. The Captain shook his head.

"Miss Jocelyn," he began, "I promised I would take you to see their graves myself. Did ya forget?"

"Ya go' me drunk on me 10th birfday an' ya 'spec' me ta take ya at yer word? Ya think I be tha' stupi'?"

The Captain looked like someone hit him in the gut.

"Jocelyn," said Kasyade, voice stern and serious as ever, "Calm down. He's right."

"Righ' 'bou' wha'? The drinkin' o' the protec'ion, hm? An' wha' 'ave ya done fer me?"

Kasyade backhanded the teenager. "Kept your ass alive how many times now?" Jocelyn fumed. Her eyes darted between the two. "Fuck et," she said, storming to the room she shared with her mentor. "I donnae wanna see."

NOW

"You ok?" asked Melody.

"Hm?"

"You've been distant all night... something happen?"

Joci shook her head. 

"I know you better than that," said Melody.

Joci looked up at her date. She reached for the bottle of burgundy and filled her glass to the rim.

"Now I know something happened the other day."

"Et donnae mattah," Joci said, setting the bottle down. She closed her hands around the bowl of the pinot noir glass. Tobacco and berries, smoke and leather and oak, they all emanated from the palms of her hands. 

"If it didn't matter, I wouldn't ask," said Melody, gently. "Are you ok?"

Joci closed her eyes. Breathe in. The scent of the wine mixed with the image of the little child in Moonbrook, playing with the mutilated teddy. Breathe out. 

"No," she admitted.

THEN

After her initial tantrum, Miss Jocelyn emerged from her room. She looked between the Captain and her mentor, her fist closed around her knuckles. She had donned her best set of clothing, a birthday gift from Kasyade two years prior - a light green dress with white accents. "Look..." she said, staring at the ground. "I donnae wha' ta be findin' 'ere. Mebbe a grave, mebbe nothin'. An' tha'," she admitted, "scares th' fuck outta me."

Kasyade nodded toward the Captain. She knelt. He stepped out of the room.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You haven't been here for over 9 years."

"Ain' no green-skins 'ere now, be they?"

"Not the point."

"I ain' afrai' o' no seadogs..." 

"Still not the point."

"Mama..."

"Yeah." Kasyade brought the girl close to her. "That's it, right? Not knowing what happened to her?"

Jocelyn didn't answer. She held out her fist and opened it, dropping her weapon into her mentor's hand. 

"I'll take you, yea?"

"No' th' Captain..." Jocelyn said quietly. "'e's why I be 'ere in th' firs' place."

"Aye, just us." Kasyade tucked the small pair of knuckles into her pack. 

"I wanna go jus' like... like I donnae wanna hur' no one. Jus' be in peace, like."

"I'll keep watch the whole way, alright?"

Jocelyn nodded. She walked over toward the broad window of the Captain's quarters and looked out at Rustberg Village. Kasyade excused herself to speak with the Captain. Voices were raised, but he relented.

NOW

Melody offered Joci a wistful smile. A platter of coconut-breaded shrimp and another of raw seafood were placed in the center of the table. Joci reached for one of the coconut shrimp and dipped it in the sweet cocktail sauce. "What's bothering you, J?"

Joci bit the head off the shrimp. "A boy, a boy me an' Myz foun' in that town, Moonbrook." She chewed for a moment. "'e 'ad nothin', no' really."

Melody nodded slowly. "Moonbrook was hit hardest by the abandonment of the Crown... my family fled to Sentinel Hill just before the anarchists."

"Et ain' always been like tha', ya mean?"

"No... no, not always." Melody chuckled. "I remember when it wasn't so bad. Before the riots and the hate. I remember playing there, the different farms..." She took a raw scallop from the other platter, squeezing lemon juice atop it. "...but this isn't about me, is it?"

Joci cleared her throat. She told her about the little boy, the little boy who seemed haunted, whose teddy was falling apart, missing its eyes, was filthy. Melody nodded as she spoke. Like she knew exactly what she was talking about.

"...et remin'ed me o' me bruv," Joci admitted at last.

THEN

The two headstones were simple. "B.W." and "J.W." Set atop a hill, looking over the village. Kasyade stopped five meters out to give her charge a bit of privacy; after all, it was the first time Jocelyn had visited her parents' graves. She watched as Jocelyn approached the headstones, slowly and timidly. In her hands, she held a small burlap sack. When she reached the headstones, she opened it. Kasyade looked on as the girl extracted a well-loved teddy, the same one she had watched Jocelyn cuddle with for the past four years. 

"Mama," she heard the teen say, "Papa... I miss you... miss you so." Kasyade could hear Jocelyn start to cry. A bandit turned and was about to yell something, but she shot the man a death glare. The bandit left. Kasyade's focus returned to the posthumous reunion.

"Ya remembah this 'un 'ere? Lil' B called it ‘Jan’?" asked the teen, setting the teddy between the two headstones. "'ow he gave 'er ta me th' day..." she choked on her words. Kasyade watched closely, but still remained silent as the young woman continued. "...she done saw me go through 'ard times. Now ya kin le' 'er see ya through yers," she heard the teen say. "Kasyade?"

"Jocelyn?"

"I nee' yer 'elp."

The mentor approached her protégé bearing a shovel. She dug a hole for the teddy. Jocelyn wrapped the toy in burlap and set it to rest in the hole. She threw a handful of dirt on it and backed away. Kasyade began to cover it. Jocelyn kissed her fingertips, resting them atop her papa's headstone and then her mama's.

"I luv ya..." she said. "Donnae forge' me, an' I cannae forge' ya."

Kasyade set a heavy stone atop the shallow grave she had dug for the child's toy. She set her hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. "Good?"

Jocelyn cried for two minutes more. She swiped at her eyes. "...nay," she said, voice breaking. "Le's go."

NOW

After they had finished their meal, Joci and Melody walked hand-in-hand. They passed the Cathedral. Joci hesitated. "Kin I show ya somethin'?" she asked.

They ventured into Stormwind Cemetery. There, about half way, were a collection of headstones, the names on which were familiar to Joci, even if all their stories were not. She led Melody to one: "...this one was me bruv," she said.

Melody plucked a few late-summer flowers from alongside the path. She knelt, running her hands across the headstone's crescent moon. She set the flowers at the base of the memorial. "I'll watch over her," she promised the cold stone. "Not that she needs it," she whispered. She swore she could hear an ethereal chuckle. She stood. "Let me show you my flat," she offered. "If you'd like."

Joci wrapped her arms around Melody. She melted into those arms, sobbing. Neither of them said another word. They took each others' hands and walked the long way back to Melody's flat.

( @myzariel )

#jocelyn wellson #backstory #story #[ cyanide itches ] #unit 8 #wyrmrest RP #wra RP #wyrmrest accord

[dulcetminds]

some (concept) playlists

find my spotify here ✨ & my fandom character/ship playlists

this page is updated monthly!!!!

💫 monthly, yearly & get to know me playlists:

 monthly mixtape: updated daily and refreshed every month with no correlation to anything what so ever.

twentytwenty: a song for each day of the year

the soundtrack to my life

my favourites

pass the aux cord, fool: car vibes

🍾🌉 playlists based off cliché concepts:

coming of age indie romcom soundtrack: cigeratte burns on film, a first kiss that tastes like beer and chapstick, and laughter falling on train tracks

not another coming of age soundtrack: red party cups and the never-ending feeling of nostalgia

Mother Nature reclaims: a soft apocalypse mix

tragedy in the dark: set in the 90's, you're driving at night on the highway, passing under street signs and street lights that illuminate your lovers tired face as they trace circles on your thigh

rise up!: (a futuristic teenage rebellion playlist) you live in a world full of holograms and plastic food, the government is corrupt and somewhere out there is a bunch of rebels that are fighting back

an angels kiss in spring: it’s the roaring 40′s and you hit the town in bold red lipstick, curled hair, flared dresses & traditional swing

a wispy field of sunshine: there's something alluring about falling in love under the sun, sipping on raspberry lemonade & kissing someone who tastes like chapstick

the air is fresh out here: i am lost beneath the earth; dirt and moss fill my lungs and i cough up ivy and rose petals as the trees whisper my name so soft, it gets caught in the wing of a butterfly floating by

3am dancing with my lover: fairylights are hung low around the kitchen, my lover has tired eyes full of wonder and we trip over our own two feet, laughter pumping our hearts alive

the last dancers at midnight: my prom could have been better so we're gonna visualise it like a teen romance movie; tired feet, starry eyes & a tender kiss under the disco ball in your high-schools' hall

even my phone misses your call: 'hey, this is [redacted] please leave your message after the beep!' 

you’re so nice to come home to: finally moving into a small apartment with your lover; succulents adorn the windowsills and you both have a love for vintage polaroids and dream catchers — a dreamers dream

I've been in love with you forever: best friends that live next door to each other & know one another like the back of their hand, connected windows, rooftop talks, sleepovers, & everything that comes along with we're best friends & i don't want that to change but i am definitely in love with you

found you in this life: my mother once told me that some of the people we meet in this life, we knew in a past life and it’s up to us to decide where it goes from here

raspberry stains: spring flings includes squashing raspberries between finger & thumb, and dancing under the sun

rollerskating disco rink fever: we're twelve years young & there's a disco ball highlighting our hair as we dance the night away & i'm pretty sure we've happened to scuff the linoleum floor

endless summer afternoon: hopping from shadow to shadow, blisters on our feet; summer, summer, summer!

summer ate me alive: and I want nothing more than to sleep through the next three seasons

ragtag band of misfits from the year ‘87: group of four trying to solve the murder mystery of their late best friend / everyone’s hiding something / he might be in love with the boy he’s known since childhood

[our hands are brushing against each other as we walk]: i want to slow dance with you in the middle of the street

hey, new kid!: its highschool and life is full of rumours and giggling girls & boys with sharp teeth and then english class rolls around ━━ and did the principal just introduce a new student?

🧚🏻‍♀️ specific concept playlists (mostly based on moments and emotions that I've experienced & can’t get over):

head’s a buzz!: stoned out of my mind, I'm pretty sure I met the girl of my dreams last night

 I should be sleeping: but i am walking aimlessly under street lights trying to forget your face, your taste, your voice; with vodka stained cheeks and chipped nail polish

pity party for two: the sudden realisation that the future is scary and we're two lost souls stuck in love with people who helped us grow

we’re under the same stars: It’s talking under the stars till the sun breaks through the trees with him, who makes your stomach ache full of laughter and although the wind is cold against your skin and the sleeping bag is thin, he burns just as brightly as the stars in the night sky, and you want to exist between 3 and 4am forever.

I fell in love for one night: he kissed my shoulder & held me tight

moments left unsaid: I love every part of you when it’s loud, when it’s silent, when you don’t know it at all (basically falling in love with your friends in the moment over the smallest of things like the way they dip their head back to laugh or hide their smile behind their hand or when they slow down waiting for you to catch up or pull you aside to ask if you’re doing okay, etc)

angel in disguise: can angels fall in love?

skate park shenanigans: I spent a the hours 8-11pm at a skatepark with my friends and we don’t even skate but this is the specific energy those hours gave off

you’re dreaming beside me: & I’m dreaming of you

how to be soft, sad & content at 4pm

I wish we could live forever: knowing someone you love is gonna die is the one of the hardest things you’re ever gonna witness

remember when we were in love?: 2015: yellow. open roads. a boy. a girl. my house. high school musical. clouds. stars. a pillow. sunflowers. beauty and the beast. skype calls. a bear. / 2017: a girl. blue, blue, blue. / 2019: a girl. a boy. picnics. skateboards. burgers. your house. an empty promise.

the pretty reckless: my friends fall in love too easily

the ceiling is staring back at me: it’s 1am and I'm thinking about everything and anything

me against the world, vol. 1

me & my apathetic brain: basically Russian roulette with I’ll die anyway by girl in red & just a girl by no doubt

🏳️‍🌈🌈 lgbt+ playlists:

this is for the gays!: for pride month 2019, gay bops to rock your socks to

all I see is her: girls r great!

we should fall in love or something: just kidding... haha... unless?

I don’t wanna b ur friend, I wanna kiss ur neck: yeah, it’s based off I wanna be your girlfriend by girl in red & also my ex but we’re gonna take the former

please look at me the same!: my bisexual teen angst

🦋🏹 ‘old groovy, 70′s, 80′s, 90′s etc music’ playlists:

butterfly dust: old time music that goes together

groovy, groovy: 70′s, 80′s, 90′s

lovestrucklovestruck: nothing goes wrong when you live in your head

she’s gold dipped & cherry wine kisses

funky glow

🥁🍒 genre specific playlists:

metamorphic: rock n roll

devils advocate: it’s like white noise before you enter hell (mostly ghostemane)

you’re not indie till: you skate, own a pair of hot converses, have good fashion taste, drink ice coffee and and and

monsters live amongst us: hiding in plain sight, the people we call our friends / a horror pop playlist

hazy affection: anxiety reducing songs and study beats

softly, sweetly: relax your eyes & dream of simpler times

bubblegum pop: the radio is overrated but here we are

glazed eyes, cherry skies

darkness looms overhead

magic under fingernails / under veins

state of mind: kinda like rap but not, definitely an easy listen to while stoned

moon rockets: fly me to outer space where we’ll become another star in the night sky.

dream & folk pop

my dreams reach the stars: my mind is far away from here / starry-eyed and captivated

local neighbourhood party: songs I'd bang my head to at a party

heavenly hymns

fluorescent heartbeats

take me away, into the night

if you see me listening to this, look away: literally Disney musicals mainly Disney’s descendants & zombies

autumnal breeze: a mix of bedroom pop & 80′s tunes

blueberry feelings: is this soundlcoud or tiktok?

untamed glory: the songs dont vibe together as well as they should but i guess thats ironic given the name of this mixtape

all strung up: my favourite female pop songs & then there's sunflower, vol. 6 by harry styles

candyfloss kisses: baby pop

and that’s on tiktok luv: literally what it says

candle lit afternoons: candles + rain = a gentle quiet in it’s purest form

tenderness: soft, quiet, yielding; murmurs at dusk & the playing of hair

my bed is the warmest place: for rainy days & the chill in your nose

🚀🍁🍓 playlists to listen to when your doing this specific thing:

classic picnic bitch: (cute songs that give me picnic vibes) and we bond over a pack of UNO cards and strawberry-filled desserts

beach bums, baby!: a beach-y playlist

hotboxing ur friends car: get high w/ me!

🥺💫🌞🌻🤩🐝 playlists to grow & fall in love with yourself to:

falling in love w/ myself !!!!!: I'm still learning how I work

then I defy you, stars!

seventeen: I made this when I was seventeen and getting over my first heartbreak and realising that I should never wait for people who can only give half back

no negative vibes here!

💌💖 my romance / love centred playlists:

dancing in my room to the sound of you, you, you (middle school crush vibes)

love cluster: and i guess there are lot of love songs out there but there are also a lot of songs that aren't about love that got me feeling like i'm in love so which is it

lovelorn: (a unrequited love playlist) and we yearn for the hearts we cannot hold; lovelorn, lovelorn, lovelorn

our love has gone cold: I love & I loved

whimsical lovers falling out of love

baby boy blues: fell in love for a day with a boy whose smile is contagious and ever-lasting

you gave me panic attacks & I called it love: unsure if you’re in an unhealthy relationship? leave them.

regret in the simplest of forms: I could have loved you / I think a small part of me did

my favourite ‘what if’: soulmates who weren’t meant to be

seeking love among cruel hearts: perhaps we were friends first and lovers second. but then perhaps this is what lovers are.

it’s a long way down from your window: everyone’s favourite secret relationship trope

heartbreak hotel

i’m yearning for his heart while he gives me his body: I love you, don’t you love me too?

make out w/ me?: songs I'd kill to make out with someone too

miss you forever: sad pop love letter

I liked you better in my dreams: the idea of them has taken root in your mind and it’s much different to how they really are

little bit in love with u: alterous attraction? we KNOW her

drowsy cacophony of love

tracing you back to the roots of my house: I'm sifting through the memories of us, where did we go wrong?

love; a choice or a feeling?: and it is both I suppose, it is a feeling, it’s happiness and soft giggles, faint blush. and then it is a choice, a choice to stay with them or leave. it is a choice to not only love them, but yourself too.

tenderly, tragically: this used to be a collab playlist with someone who loved me fully and unconditionally, things have changed since, but this is whats left; it's our story compiled into a playlist

second chance at love: you make me hard, but she makes me weak

lonely in love: (it was supposed to be just casual sex but fuck, I think I'm in love with you)

silent lovers: skinny love (n.) a type of love where two people are in love with each other but are too shy to admit it

my first love: they say your first love never dies, and love, they’re right

my lover is a liar: victim to broken promises and false truths by a boy who died when he gave me his heart

love locket type of love: I loved you in secret !!

the charms of love: don’t fall in love with the moment & think your in love with the girl! (yes, she’s american by the 1975 lyrics)

almost lovers

💸💄💅🏻⛓ playlists that give off bad bitch energy:

rich girl$: my cash flow will never ever end

kiss the boys n make em die!: femme fatale, girl revolution, girl power

GIRLS. FOOD. GEAR: loosely inspired by people by the 1975

girl, interrupted

you’re like a rhinestone pick-up line: picture this — a girl with a hard attitude that you can’t just seem to get off your mind

back on my bullshit: just got my heartbroken; revamped!

👻👽 my halloween inspired playlists:

hallohalloween: basic halloween playlist

 the fae know my name: humans beware the manic pixies & lip curling fae for although they don't lie they are cunning creatures with kind eyes!

frothy vampire chick meets soft green witch: red fanged lover & a green house full of potions, spells & succulents

sirens lament: sharp teeth hidden under a pretty face

murder at the casino: (in breaking news: monster hunters just cant seem to catch a break!)

the howling

witchy renaissance

fuckin vampires, man!

🥀 if I were series (playlists that only feature one artist based off something specific):

if I were to dance in a faerie ring to hozier songs: maybe I want to fall in love with a faerie and be under Hozier’s rule

if I were to live my teenage years to Lorde songs

if I were to get high by the beach to skeggs songs: BIG greening out energy

 if I were to fall in love to tom rosenthal songs: tom rosenthal songs that make me feel like I'm in love!!

if I were to reminisce about heartbreak to LANY songs:

Hogwarts Houses:

🌻 Hufflepuff

🥊 Gryffindor

🐍 Slytherin

📘 Ravenclaw

#playlists #concept playlists #rock n roll #pop music #indie music #love playlists #love songs #radio music #party playlist #femme fatale playlist #beach playlist #heartbreak playlist #heartbreak songs #sad songs #feel good songs #spotify #2019 #playlist inspiration #writing inspiration #my playlists #lorde #tom rosenthal #rich girl aesthetic #rich girl playlists #music genres #coming of age #lgbt playlists #lgbt music #cottagecore #faerie playlists

[dirtyahs]

The Power Couple (The Countess x Reader)

thank you @cheerocracyx for the request!! I hope you luv it as much as i luv u!

Prompts: “Why was this so expensive for so little clothing?” + “You look so hot I could fuck you senseless right now.” + “You taste so sweet, honey.” 

Word count: 1,626

Warnings: none really, female x female oral sex (reader receiving)

What felt like years ago, you had made the pleasant mistake of staying at the Hotel Cortez. You were young and desperate for some kind of thrill and fun in your life, and you'd always been told never to stay in this specific hotel; so of course you had to. That was about six months ago. You had been at the bar that evening, sucking down whatever Miss Liz Taylor had put in front of you. You were the only one at that bar for awhile, before a woman took the seat next to you. She was breathtaking, beautifully curved body, platinum blonde hair, and she spoke so eloquently, she had managed to take you back to her room that night. You'd never had a woman so beautiful flirt with you before, the answer was obvious.

She brought you to the top floor, bringing you into the beautiful penthouse suite, immediately taking your breath away. 

"This is beautiful." You turned to look at her, watching as she stripped out of her black coat. She approached you slowly, hands wrapping around your hips, noses barely touching.

"You taste like my favorite drink." She smiled against you, making you giggle - strawberry vanilla vodka. That was the first night you had the walls almost shaking from how she had you screaming. 

From then on, you and Elizabeth were the power couple of the hotel residents. She quickly let you in on the whole situation - all of the ghosts that had made home there and the creature she actually was. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to be with her forever, so you agreed to let her turn you. The transition wasn't nearly as difficult as you had expected it to be, but it did take some getting used to. Having Elizabeth there with you made it so much easier though. Essentially, you two were doing great.

You loved watching her do anything, from reading in your bed, to getting ready, to telling Mr. March he can't watch you two have sex. 

That one was your favorite though, he just wouldn't give up the idea. Elizabeth had been out shopping all day, she invited you, but looking through hundreds of racks wasn't your first idea of fun. So you spent the day tidying up around your suite, it'd be a nice surprise for her when she got home. Your heart fluttered when you heard the door open, the ruffling of bags lining her arms.

"I'm home, angel." She called, setting everything down on the couch. You walked out to meet her, wearing a pair of black spandex shorts and a little white tank top, blushing when she looked you up and down.

"How was your day, Lizzy?" You smiled, her arms wrapping around your waist, pressing a 'hello' kiss into your lips.

"It was wonderful, I got you a few things." She whispered. She just oozed of sex appeal - she could look at you the right way and you'd be on the bed ready to do whatever she asked of you.

"Baby, you didn't have to get me anything!" You whined, pouting playfully. You didn't need her to buy you anything, but she loved to spoil you. And she had beautiful taste, so you knew you were in for something good.

"But I already did. And I can't wait for you to wear it for me." She pulled from your arms and grabbed one of the bags she had set down, handing it over to you with a small smirk. You looked up at her, but opened the bag that was stuffed with white tissue paper.

"Elizabeth..." You gasped, pulling out a La Perla Exotique bra, black thin lace. She loved black lace.While examining it, you caught a glimpse of the price tag, 

"$400.00! Why was this so expensive...for so little clothing?" Your jaw had dropped and you couldn't manage to close it. "There's more, darling, keep going." Her voice was quiet and seductive, sending a chill down your spine. The matching pantie set, racking up another $205.00

"You didn't need t-" She cut you off by handing you one more bag, this one smaller though. Your heart felt like it was going to burst right out of your chest. You opened the bag, proceeding to open the small box inside, suddenly feeling breathless.

"This isn't me asking you to marry you..." She said quietly, smiling as you stared down at the silver Cartier Love ring, three diamonds encrusted into it.

"This is just me promising that I'm going to ask you some day." She took the ring and grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger. You felt like you couldn't breath, this had to cost upwards of $3,000.

"Lizzy, I-" She stopped you again, kissing your hand she had just placed the ring on.

"Don't tell me I didn't have to. I wanted to. I love you more than anything." She kissed you gently, holding each side of your face.

You smiled against her lips, "I love you too..."

"Now, go put on that lingerie for me, I've been thinking about seeing you in it all day." 

Your cheeks were dusted pink, and you took the bag into the bathroom with you, stripping out of your comfy house clothes and sliding into the tiny black set. You touched up your hair, putting it half up like you know she likes. Honestly, you looked damn good and felt that way. Somehow Elizabeth just knew what would look good on you. You took a deep breath and opened the door, walking into your shared bedroom to see your girl on the gray satin sheets, down to her black thong and diamond necklace, a cigarette between her lips.

You two locked eyes for a moment, scanning over each other in a mix of love, appreciation, and desperate lust. 

"Come here, angel." She said, leaning up so she was sitting on her legs. You obeyed and approached the bed, crawling over your side, making sure your ass was on show for her, earning a playful smack. You giggled and laid on your back, already feeling your excitement as she crawled over you, straddling your hips. She took her cigarette and burnt it out on the side table, moving to plant open mouthed kisses all over your neck, her long nails making circles all over your skin.

"How does it look?" You whispered, body covered in shivers.

"You look so hot I could fuck you senseless right now." She growled next to your ear, hands now squeezing your thighs.

"And that's exactly what I'm going to do." She smirked against your skin and you exhaled, feeling breathless. She tended to have this effect on you.Her lips moved over your neck, making deep purple hickeys over her trail, moving down to your breasts, flicking her tongue over your nipples through the thin fabric, making you whine, desperate to feel her without the lace in the way. She squeezed your hips as you bucked them a bit, dragging her tongue down your abdomen, kissing along your hips teasingly. 

"Please..." You whimpered, fingers running along the fabric of your sheets that felt so good on your skin. She ghosted her lips over your skin, spreading your legs for you, kissing your core through the damp fabric between your thighs. 

"Already wet for me, hm kitten?" The pet name only made it worse.

"Yes, Mistress." You groaned desperately, knowing what it did to her when you called her that. With your words she bit at your thigh, making you squeal, before hooking a finger into the lace, pulling your panties aside, licking a stripe up to your clit. Ever so gently, she flicked her tongue against the little bud, making sure to go slow. 

You taste so sweet, honey." She growled against your skin, picking up her pace, making you moan louder than before. She held your trembling thighs in place, flicking and swirling her tongue around your clit, moving her hands up to toy with your nipples, tugging on them gently.

"M-mistress.." You slurred, arching your back as she had you close so quickly. She leaned up, making you whimper at the lost contact.

"Cum for me angel." She growled, "Let the whole hotel know who owns this pretty little pussy." 

Her lips returned to lap at your clit, one hand moving down to force two fingers into your soaked heat, making you arch your back, damn near screaming. She only went faster though, your legs shaking, feeling that heat form in your tummy. 

"I-I'm gonna cum..." You moaned, feeling your orgasm wash over you. 

"Mistress!!" You yelled out as she kept going through your orgasm, not slowing down or lightening up in the slightest. Instinctively your body tried to push back but she pulled you close to her face once again, lapping up your cum as if she needed it to survive. Once she leaned up, her smirk was evident.

"You're still so cocky, as if you forget what you do to me." You teased, trying desperately to catch your breath. She moved to lay next to you, wrapping her arms around you after lighting another cigarette. 

"James would've loved to see that." You teased, smiling against her chest, making her laugh. 

"Maybe we should let him watch - just once. It could be fun to show him how much neither of us need a man to satisfy." She smirked, your eyes widening, but honestly the idea did excite you.

"Let's invite him for round two then." You winked at her, moving to straddle her hips now. It was going to be a very long (very fun) night. 

#ahs #american horror story #ahs5 #ahs hotel #hotel cortez #countess #ahs the countess #ahs countess #ahs elizabeth #lady gaga #ahs lady gaga #evan peters #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction

[whirlybirbs]

second. ⇢ alfie solomons

summary: the subject of payment has alfie & you testing the waters. pairing: baker!reader x alfie solomons word count: 2k rating: some mild swearing & canon-typical banter a/n: alfie is going to work for this one, ok, i’m emotional about this goofy idiot.

“Miss, Mr. Solomons is here again --”

“Tell him to go away, Ellie.”

You’ve got a tray of five loaves in your arms, loading them fast into the oven and snapping the door shut. The heat sets along your face, sending your hair from its place swept high along your neck. You wring your hands from flour, sighing as you spot Ellie lingering in the doorway from the corner of your eye. The kitchen is hot and it’s doing nothing to quell your mood.

“Ellie.”

“Miss, he’s insisting --”

“There you are!”

He’s like Hades: charming and quick witted and terribly handsome, and God, he’s persistent. This is the second time this week he’s paraded himself through your bakery’s doors demanding you sit for an apology -- it’s all for show. And you’re not about to be muscled into some sort of new business deal from the infamous Solomons leader. You’re not looking to snack on seeds of pomegranate and lock yourself into his own version of hell.

Your father had a deal, and you intended to keep the deal.

The men working the shop watch as Alfred Solomons swaggers into the kitchen.

His cane snaps against the floors of the bakery; your eyes roll faster than you can catch them. As the man staggers into your bakery, you fleet about -- the icing for the O’Dooley’s wedding needs mixing, so you see to it. And Alfie watches.

His hat hangs low on his face. Green eyes watch from under the brim. He seems more predatory today than before. Even when he’d lurched through your front doors with his gargantuan personality, he’d not been so terrifying. But now? It’s almost like he’s looking for trouble.

Bones to pick his teeth with.

He scratches his beard before speaking again -- despite the mean look in his eye, he’s chipper, and you aren’t feeding into it. You turn, mixing bowl on your hip as you fold in the sugar with deft hands.

“Smells wonderful in ‘ere,” he says, waving ringed fingers through the air, “Really, love, s’nice, yeah?”

“Do you need something, Mr. Solomons?”

“Yeesh,” he breathes through gritted teeth, “M’ here t’ apologize, luv, really -- though I did come las’ week an’...”

“That was two days ago.”

You shove past him, dropping the bowl to the counter with a clatter and motioning to Alfie’s henchman crowding the tiers of cakes. Your hand falls to your hip, eyes narrowing when Ollie -- young and lanky -- doesn’t move.

“Well, I mean, yea, but t’was Friday, an’ now it’s Monday --”

Frustration builds fast and bubbles over. You throw your hands in the air, groaning loudly. When you turn on your heel and spy Alfie unceremoniously poking around by the pastry case, your voice rises sharply.

“Mr. Solomons, I have a bakery to run.”

He jumps a bit, gaze snapping from the macarons to you. “Alfie, luv, s’Alfie. M’not y’ father.”

No. He isn’t.

Alfie tries not to seem so… hungry. He blinks at you, straightening himself, and proceeds to wave Ollie off. The young man seems to hesitate, but upon Alfie settling into one of the stools by the island, he ducks out the back door and busies himself outside, watching carefully through the cakes in the shop window.

Ellie watches, keen on distrust, before you wave her off as well. No doubt she hurries off to gossip with your sister.

With Alfie’s settling in, you sigh.

Clearly this wasn’t just about an apology.

“I’ll try n’ make this quick, yeah?” it’s a low growl, “Your ol’ man had a deal wiv us, y’see, an’ now tha’ ‘e is dead in th’ ground, m’ makin’ sure you understand exactly wha’ kinda deal we made, yeah?”

“Mr. Solomons --”

“Alfie, just call me Alfie,” he snaps, quickly recoiling at the volume of his own voice, “No need fer th’ formalities, yeah? No need. Jus’... quit that.”

Reminds him too much of the Army.

You swallow, moving to cross the kitchen and discard his apart tantrum. “Then make it quick, Alfie, I have work to do. The O’Dooley’s wedding is tomorrow --”

“No shit,” he chirps, “Max?”

“No,” you breath, “Oldest one, Thomas.”

“Ah,” he leans back in his chair and it creaks, “Well don’ let me stop you, yea?”

You pause, only for a moment, before you unceremonious drop a tier to the kitchen island and gather a knife to begin icing. Alfie watches how quick your hands move, watches how careful you are -- you’ve been under the wing of your father for years, and as lead of The Bakery & Pastry Shoppe on Main, you have a reputation to uphold.

The family business had been built form the ground up.

It shows in the cracks in the walls; shows in the cutthroat way you hold yourself. You’re used to the threats, no doubt.

“You’d said you’d make this quick,” you shirk out, “If you’d like cake decorating lessons --”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alfie chatters, waving his hands and dropping his hat to the table. He looks younger like this, less like a wolf in sheep’s skin. His hair is unkempt, though you suppose that’s as much as his staple as the chains hanging low around his collarbone. He crosses his arms. Your gaze jumps to him for a mere second. “Yer father an’ I had a deal.”

“You said that.”

“Mm, an’ yer father paid me a fair sum t’ keep you an’ y’ sisters nice and safe, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“An’ still, I ‘aven’t gotten a payment,” Alfie says, voice rising, “An’ why’s that, lil’ girl?”

Alfie hadn’t expected the reaction he got.

In a blink, the knife you’d been using to ice the cake is drove into the kitchen island between his fingers, frosting flying across his shirt -- you’re dead-set, sneering in his face as you lean over the island. Alfie recoils, shouting.

“Good god, woman -- !”

The knife is retrieved from the wood with a satisfying plunk and is waved in his face. You’re rounding the counter, hunted turned huntress, and Alfie is rooted to his spot in his chair.

“My father told me about you -- told me plenty,” you spit, “You served alongside one another in that god forsaken war, he’d known your mother for christ’s sake. My father looked out for you as much as you did him. For you to come in here and belittle me --”

“Sorry, yes,” Alfie snaps, hand moving to press the frosting covered butter knife away from his face, “Rude a’ me.”

The knife snaps right back to its previous position.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t go to Sabini. Or the Shelby’s? Tell me why I should pay you all that when I could get the same amount of protection from the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders, huh? Or is all this,” you gesture to him, sitting there, looking rather wide-eyed, “all because of a bunch of gang territory horseshit?”

Alfie swallows, then, after a beat of silence speaks.

“Y’ know,” Alfie coughs, “Y’ father said t’ watch out fer y’ when th’ time came. M’ startin’ to realize ‘e meant tha’ you’d cut a man, rather than needin’ protection.”

You drop the knife then, frustration peaking. With a sigh, you wipe the knife quickly and turn your back on the gang leader.

“I’ll tell y’ why you shouldn’t go t’ those fuckin’ Peaky Blinders,” Alfie waves his hands, moving from his seat and leaning on the counter, “Because Tommy fuckin’ Shelby ‘as ‘is own shit to deal wiv, and a pretty lil’ bakery with a pretty lil’ baker is th’ last of ‘is fuckin’ worries, yea? I made a promise wiv y’ dad tha’ I would take care a’ you n’ your sisters. I ain’t lettin’ that slip.”

He closes the distance between you both, eyes wide -- he’s tall, even with his cane and crooked step. Your father had spoken fast about Captain Solomons. Imagining the man before you in that damned uniform your dad had come home in all those years ago? Impossible.

You can feel his breath fan across your face. You blink up from the cake.

“Don’t have your own shit to deal with, Mr. Solomons?”

A crooked smile.

“A promise is a promise, luv.”

A week later, you stroll through doors of Solomon's distillery.

Ollie nearly drops dead upon realizing it’s you getting out of the car pulled ‘round front. Your coat is pulled close, it’s only two weeks away from winter anyways, and your clutch is gripped tight in gloved hands.

“I’m here to see Alfie,” you say, peaking up at the lanky young man by the gates, “He doesn’t know I’ve come ‘round -- though, I have my payment with me. No doubt he’ll be willing to sit for that.”

Ollie hums, motioning you to follow. “No knives, Miss? Butter, icing or otherwise?”

You laugh. “No, but if you’d like to check --”

“Just procedure.”

The boys who stop you are quick. They pat you down, then give Ollie a nod. You slip them both a smile and follow Ollie.

The distillery is in the beaten up part of Camden, but there’s something about it that settles a bit of comfort into your bones. There’s a steady sense of work here -- the rooms smell like water and sugar and burns like rum.

Alfie’s office is at the end of the building, behind two heavy set steel doors. When Ollie knocks, he’s met with a low “Yea!” and the sound of shuffling. From behind Ollie, you watch as Alfie tugs the doors open and blinks between the two of you.

He’s dressed in a plain cotton shirt and apron, nose adorned with a pair of golden glasses. He looks at home here -- his office is warm.

“Well inn’ this a nice surprise.”

“May I come in?”

“Oh,” he breathes, “Right.”

Ollie lingers, watching by the far door, as you make your way into the room.

Alfie’s office is bathed in the warm light of gas candles, cluttered with paperwork and the back wall, behind his desk, is adorned with shelves and a heavy safe -- had you forgotten about the type of man you’d been dealing with before, you’d been reminded.

The gun on his desk is loaded.

He falls into the large leather chair with a breath, straightening his back and propping his elbows up on the desk.

“So,” he starts, “T’ what do I owe this pleasure? Gunna try n’ stab me again, yea? I wouldn’t say tha’s in y’ best interest, mm. Not ‘ere, s’ a territory thing, yea?”

You laugh. “Your boys patted me down.”

“Not too rough?”

“Not too rough.”

“Good,” he waves his hands, plucking his glasses from his face, “So, why’re y’ here?”

“Payment.”

You’re tugging your gloves off. Alfie is watching.

“Hm.”

Bare fingers muscle the stack of pounds from your clutch, leaning to place them onto his desk. Alfie quirks a brow, moving to lean to look at the small desk calendar to his left.

“It’s --”

“The eighth. I know,” you wave your hands, crossing your legs and huffing, “My father left a detailed will. He explained the payment system, how you preferred the transactions, when, the details of the agreement. I would have been here earlier had the bakery not been such a mess this morning.”

“So --”

“So, you coming into my bakery demanding payment? That was a way for me to see your play, Mr. Solomons.”

“Cheeky girl.”

You stand, gathering your gloves and clutch. Your smile is like a kick in the gut. Alfie Solomons has to catch his breath.

“Until next month, Mr. Solomons.”

“Alfie. Remember, m’ not y’ father.”

“No, you’re not.”

He laughs. You’re half way out the door when he calls your name.

“Mm?”

“I’ll be seein’ y’ sooner than the end a’ the month, yea.”

“Sure, Alfie.”

#alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #alfie solomons fanfic #tom hardy imagine

[badgalkatzha]

💫IGTV : Color Correctors Tips + Info 💫

Omg i look fucking busted!!! But daz what i get from been 3 hours in the shower keeping my hair healthy. Hey luvz!!! Welcome to another IGTV/KikisGlamTV video. In today's video i'm talking about color correcting. I know some of y'all are ain't even aware of em or maybe not curious but know they exist. Also i'll be sharing w/chu do's and don'ts about color correcting. Without any further do let's get started.

What is color correctors? Isaa concealer technique professional makeup artist like myself have use for years or maybe once. This colors in my forearm determines witch color of corrector will work best for your blemish. The colors correctors come in Green,Peach,Orange,Red,Yellow, Pink and Purple. Green corrector cancels out red zits. Purple corrector minimizes yellow spots. Orange corrector takes care of blue dark circles. If y'all know this technique this will make your color correcting better for you. Please keep in mind to use the appropriate hue to cover ur blemishes. Then lightly pat your foundation on over the color. Some beauty gurus do the foundation first and then the color corrector but lowkey daz not the right way at least daz what in cosmetology school told me. Also when you cover your dark circles w/orange or pink tones apply after foundation the concealer u use over the bright pigments. Then tap the makeup down w/ur sponge. Alright time for to resume each color. Green corrector is for redness, acne n rosacea. Peach corrector is for cancels dark spots, dark circles in light n medium skin tones. Orange corrector is for dark circles n dark spots on dark to deep skin tones. Red corrector is for dark circles on deep skin color. Yellow corrector is for calm allover mild redness on all skin tones. Pink corrector is for dark circles n brightens dullness on light skin. Purple corrector haves the same like the pink but in medium skin tones. If y'all want a deep detail about what this correctors do leave me a comment. For my skin tone i use pink,red and green they work amazing to cancel the colors showing up in my foundation after shes dry or set w/powder.

I decided to use as example the Magic Star green corrector to show what i meant. Green corrector is my favorite besides of pink. Green is the opposite from red in the wheel of color correcting witch you can check in Google to see what i say is correct. This color is perfect for hiding any redness on your face. If you have acne or scars this cancel em also. Magic star concealer is a little bit more creamy and blends more faster then Dragun Beauty orange corrector. Da one i have to use two different brushes to blend nicely. Now my dos and don'ts in color correcting are; choose the right ones for your skin. The effectiveness of color correcting depends on finding the right tone to match your undertones. Please remember Orange corrector are for dark skin and peach is for light. Cuz when Dragun Beauty launched the orange one everyone was like "WTF THIS WON'T WORK FOR ME" THIS SUCKS" SIS THIS LOOK GREY IN THE CHOCO SISTAH" i understand she made da corrector for everyone but girl let's be real da ain't for everyone. The formula is also fundamental n her formula for me was very hard to blend. Tip number 2 apply thin layers a thick layer of corrector may show thru ur foundation witch a lot of people do. Tip number 3 don't use colors u don't need. If the blemishes ain't da strong u can use ur normal concealer witch does the trick.

Last tip utilize beauty sponges to pat the coverage into the skin. Don't brush the colors of your face. This will undo all the hard work you've done by moving pigments into the wrong areas. Remember that makeup should enhance ur skin not to hide it. Think about the corrector as a fun extra step daz used sparingly and don't forget to let ur natural face shine.

I personally luv color correctors do i use em 24/7? No when i mostly use em is in Summer or Winter daz when my redness is crazy. I think seasons also affects the undertones we have in our skin so keep da in mind. One of my points of view are. All foundations have undertones, concealers also have undertones and we have undertones as well. Mixing the wrong ones will affect not just ur skin but also everything you put on. U might even see blue or purple coming out. Daz why is very important to know everything bout your skin. What color correctors i reccomend well i have only two cuz i personally use em. One is the Urban Decay naked skin correcting fluids and the other one is Lacome teint idole ultra wear camouflage corrector and if chu are into sticks you can use Cover Fx correct click. I think this is a pretty much good information for starters. I hope this was helpful for u my Alpha Gang. Thank you for watching n listening my tips on this subject n i'll see y'all on the next one 🐺

#katherine sterling #in character #s4 roleplay #s4 rp #s4rp #the sims 4 roleplay #the sims rp #ts4 roleplay #ts4 rp #ts4 rp blog #ts4rp #s4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 rp #sims4rp #beauty vlogger #beauty #makeup #jefreestarcosmetics