#[ also something i really love is the way john's jaw is canted to one side almost like how selina's is with my fc of kat ]

[got9lives]

edits relating to selina kyle 001 / ? ft parents : maria kyle (nia l.ong) in 1996 when she met carmine falcone to falcone in present canon before his death.

both deceased. falcone wasn't around as selina grew up something which she resented him for. especially as her mother was murdered when selina was only 7-8 years old. selina blames him for her murder because he wasn't there for them. falcone was murdered (shot long range) by the riddler right after apprehension by the batman and jim gordon in present times for her main verse set in tbm22. that was moments after selina herself attempted to kill him but was foiled by the bat.

[sodasback]

Let Go - Part 3

Reposting from my deleted acct.

Warnings: physical violence

That night you got a text from JJ’s number.

JJ: Hey Y/N, it’s Pope. I stole JJ’s phone and he’s trying to kill me over it right now. 

JJ: Anyway, he hasn’t stopped talking about you. Just thought you should know.

JJ: Don’t let him hide you from us. 

JJ: Kay gotta go, can’t breathe, bye

You laughed out loud at Pope’s texts and swooned over the fact that JJ was talking about you to his friends and that the Pogues, or Pope at least, seemed like he wanted to hangout with you.Then more texts came through. 

JJ: Sry pope doesnt kno wut hes talking about. ignore him. 

JJ: i cant let ur head get any bigger knowing tht im simping for u over here. I’ll have to put u in ur place again.😉

Y/N: Is that place on my knees in front of you?

JJ: ugh stop. ur gonna make me hard and wer on the boat

Y/N: Hey you started it

JJ: Yeah well I’ll finish it too when i see u tmrw pretty girl

Y/N: You better 😈

JJ: ur killin me smalls 🍆

You went to sleep that night blissfully happy. But you woke up full of dread knowing you had to breakup with Rafe. 

You texted him telling him that you needed to see him and talk. He seemed to know something was up, but he told you to meet him at your favorite park in Figure 8. 

Before you left to meet him, you texted JJ that you were meeting Rafe. And then you shared your location with him. You had a feeling JJ would end up being close by, but you frowned when he didn’t text back and thought maybe you should call him. No, it’ll be fine. Rafe doesn’t need to know what happened. I’ll just end it and it’ll be fine.

 You pulled up to the park and saw Rafe....

You had worn a hoodie, because it was the only thing you had that would really cover all the hickeys, that you also tried, pretty unsuccessfully, to cover with make-up.

“Hey beautiful” he greeted you softly from his spot seated at a bench and kissed your cheek as you sat down next to him. You were ashamed of yourself that you still felt a warm fuzzy feeling despite the fact that Rafe didn’t you treat you right and JJ already showed you more affection in such a short time.

“Hey doll” you greeted back out of habit.

You and Rafe were both quiet for a minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You and Rafe enjoyed the scenery and the nearby fountain in silence.

“It’s over huh?” He asked solemnly, still looking off in the distance at first and then to you.

“Yeah” You admitted with a sigh before continuing, “I think we’re just growing apart and maybe we’re not the best for one another.” You said slowly.

You hated yourself for saying it that way, for not calling Rafe out on everything. And you hated yourself for not being 100% truthful that you cheated. But a part of you still loved him and a bigger part of you was just trying to survive this without a screaming match or something worse.

Rafe nodded and offered a small smile.

“I’ll always love you though. You know that right?” He said, squeezing your hand gently.

You melted a little. Rafe really could be the boyfriend you needed ...sometimes.

“Me too” is all you said with a gentle smile.

Rafe sighed and stood up. He opened his arms out for a hug. You stepped in and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

That wasn’t so bad you thought as you breathed in his cologne one last time and savored being in his arms for a second.

You felt Rafe shift a little and playing with the hood of your sweatshirt.

“Why’re you wearing a hoodie?” He asked, with genuine intrigue in his voice. You felt your heart stop and you tried to stop yourself from sweating more than you already were. You swallowed hard and then cleared your throat, trying to act casual.

“Just was a little chilly earlier.” You stated simply, pulling away from Rafe. Who looked at you skeptically. 

“It’s July. It’s hot as fuck out. There’s no way you’re cold.” He said tugging at the hem of the jacket. You pushed his hands away. 

“Rafe stop. I wanna keep it on. I’m cold.” You said, trying to squirm away from him. He firmly grabbed hold of both your wrists and pulled you towards him a little, motivating you to look up at his now deeply disbelieving expression. The furrow in his brow, made you nervous and you bit the inside of your cheek. You could see the gears turning in his head as he registered your very guilty and scared demeanor you couldn’t hide.

“Why’re you wearing a jacket, Y/N?” He asked in a sternly dangerous tone that gave you goosebumps. Your breathing started getting heavy. 

“Rafe” You warned nervously. 

His jaw became clenched. And he forcefully ripped the hemline of your pullover upward and wrenched your arm out one of the sleeves. 

“Rafe! Stop!” You yelled at him as you tried to squirm away but he manhandled you and harshly tugged your hoodie the rest of the way off and threw it on the ground, leaving you in your sports bra, completely exposing the hickeys on your neck and chest. You quickly tried to cover yourself and reach down for your hoodie at the same time, but Rafe grabbed your forearms again, hard enough to leave bruises. 

Fuck. Where’s JJ when you need him?

Rafe looked you up and down before tightening his grip on your arms. “You little fucking whore.” He swore through gritted teeth. 

“Rafe you’re hurting me.” You said with a whiny tone you couldn’t hold back.

“You’re just cold, huh? I can’t believe you fucked another guy, you cheating slut!” He spat as he throttled you.

“Rafe calm down.” You said, trying not to cry. God, JJ, please come. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re sorry?! You’re sorry?!” Rafe laughed darkly, before moving a hand to your throat, but not fully squeezing yet. “You cheat on me and all you can say is you’re sorry?!” 

“Rafe! Please!” You begged, tears now welling up in your eyes. 

“Who’d you let fuck you, Y/N? Hmm? Who marked you up knowing you were mine?”

“Rafe, please let go!” You cried. 

“Tell me who it was, Y/N!” He growled at you in a way that made your blood run cold and he started to squeeze your throat. You clawed at his hand and his arm as he cut off your airway. 

“Cameron!” JJ yelled as he ran over to you. Rafe was caught off guard and let go of your throat. You collapsed to the ground gasping for air. JJ immediately was at your side. 

“Y/N! Are you okay? Go to your car, now.” JJ told you. But you stayed in your position, mostly out of necessity, given the fact you couldn’t breathe. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” Rafe said. “You cheated on me with this fucking piece of shit pogue?!” He asked you, as JJ stood up and faced him. 

“Leave. Now.” JJ told Rafe.

Rafe snorted, “Or what?” He challenged, stepping towards JJ.

Right then, police sirens went off. All 3 of you turned to see a Kildare County Sheriff SUV and Shoupe step out.

“Is there a problem gentleman?” Shoupe asked them walking towards the 3 of you.

Rafe and JJ were glaring at each other. You took the opportunity to put your hoodie back on.

Finally, Rafe said, “No problem here officer.” As he didn’t take his eyes off JJ, daring him to rat him out.

“Looks like you’re on the wrong side of town, Mr. Maybank. Everything okay Miss Y/L/N?” Shoupe asked.

“Yeah, JJ came to take me home. Rafe was just leaving.” You said.

By now, Shoupe had taken notice of the red mark on your neck and the fact you were on the ground with a defensive JJ in between you and Rafe. It was very obvious what had been going on.

“Mr. Cameron, I think you should head on home now.” Shoupe said. And you internally rolled your eyes. Of course, Shoupe would let Rafe just leave.

Rafe just glared at JJ.

“Rafe.” Shoupe said more firmly.

“I’ll see you soon Y/N, Maybank.” He promised in a dangerous tone before turning toward his car.

JJ watched him leave with his fists clenched. Once Rafe was driving away, JJ took a deep breath and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Miss Y/L/N, do you need to see a doctor?” Shoupe asked.

“No, I’m fine.” You said from JJ’s arms.

“Alright. You 2 take care, now.” Shoupe said as both an apology and a warning getting back in his car.

Now, it was just you and JJ. He was still holding you tight. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, glancing down at you. You nodded but kept your head tight to his chest squeezing his waist and cried a little. 

You only let yourself cry for a second and then sucked it up and when you sniffled, JJ held you back a little so he could look at you. He checked your expression and waited for you to nod as he slowly and gently pulled the collar of your hoodie down a little so he could see your neck.

A pained grimace appeared on JJ’s face and anyone looking at him could have probably seen his heart break in front of them as he looked at your injury.

You might have JUST admitted feelings for each other yesterday, but you couldn’t explain it. You and JJ felt right. It was young summer love, a whirlwind romance where you both fell hard and fast. And the fact that he was partly at fault for the huge hematoma forming on your neck, the fact Rafe quite literally could have killed you made JJ feel like crumbling.

“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ said to himself more than you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N.” 

“JJ. This is not your fault. Okay? Rafe is the one who had his hand around my neck not you.” You said with your hands holding his face. 

“But I-”

“No! Stop! I’m telling you this isn’t your fault. And I’m fine. See? I’m in one piece.”

JJ almost had tears spilling out. 

“I promise.” You reassured him. He closed his eyes and nodded. 

“So you taking me out on a date or what, Maybank?” You asked, desperately just wanting to see JJ’s face free of anguish again. He smiled a little and sniffled. 

“Yeah, I’m taking you out. Give me your keys.” He said smiling.

“Uh uh” You tsked, “You think I’m gonna let you drive my Porsche? I’ve seen you take a turn in John B’s van on 2 wheels. I’m not letting you behind the wheel of my baby.” 

“Fine” JJ pouted. But then he snatched the keys from your hand and mimicked the shocked look on your face and taunted you. 

“JJ!” You shouted reaching for the keys, but he held them out of reach from you. 

“Ooh sucks to be short, huh Y/N?” He said as he stumbled to your car still holding you back from the keys. 

“JJ.” You said seriously. “Give. Me. My. Keys.” He just looked at you waiting for you to threaten something as he stood next to the driver’s door. “Give me my keys or I’m not sucking your dick for a month.” You threatened. 

“Pfft” JJ scoffed, “Like you could go a month without begging for my cock down your throat? Bet” He said, nodding his chin up at you. You contemplated it and you knew he was probably right. You furrowed your brow. 

“I swear to god, if you crash my car, I will kill you Maybank.” You said as you walked to the passenger’s. 

“Whoo!” JJ cheered before awkwardly crawling into your front seat. “Jesus, your seat’s so close to the wheel!” He complained throwing the seat back and fixing all the mirrors. 

“JJ! You are fucking up all my stuff!” You yelled at him and punched him in the arm. He ignored you and revved the engine. 

“Ooofff” JJ groaned, “this is making me so horny. Can we have sex later?” 

You glared at him. 

“You’re eating me out for at least an hour for stealing my car.” You folded your arms and looked out the front windshield. JJ leaned over and pecked your cheek. 

“My pleasure baby.” he said, throwing your car in drive and screeching the tires. 

“JJ!”

Taglist: @moniamaybank @hernameisnoell @moonrisebeach @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @railmerafe

[abarbaricyalp]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but you know the vine two dudes chilling in a hot tub 5 feet apart cause they're not gay, and a girl quoting it in a park about two girls in the distance and one of them hearing and going "Actually I am gay" Like that scenario, only involving them fixing the boat? Maybe Sarah quoting it to give Sam shit when she thinks Bucky cant hear and Bucky goes "Wait, no I'm gay" or something, or just the general gist of that. Sorry if this us too specific, I've never sent anyone a prompt before :P

Hello Friend! Thank you so much for sending anything in at all! I know the vine you're talking about, but I couldn't find it on Youtube. (I did find a two day rabbit hole of old compilations though) This was also my first foray into writing Sarah as a fully fleshed character! I was excited to get the practice 'cause I had an idea bouncing around in my head about her and Bucky talking after he wakes up in the Wilson house. I kept her a little more like she had been in my other fics pre-show here. I so wish we got a little more of her!

Feel free, anyone, to send me Sambucky prompts!

The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation

Sarah Wilson loved her brother deeply. The kind of soul crushing love that could only be formed through family, loss, and approximately four thousand brawls around the living room throughout their life. She looked up to her brother more than she could ever imagine looking up to anyone. Even when they were fighting or picking on each other, she couldn’t help but feel a swell in her chest when he came into her line of sight.

That didn’t mean she understood him. In fact, from the age of eight, watching her brother interact with the world had become her go-to pastime. Why did he have to roll every pea around the plate individually before eating them? Why did he and his friends spend seven years socking each other in the arm to prove friendship? Why did he talk to himself in the mirror, even when he knew Sarah or someone else was standing in the doorway?

Sam Wilson was just deeply weird. She had no idea how he had tricked the Avengers, a plethora of bad guys, and half of the media world into thinking he was remotely cool. She saw a news story once that had King T’Challa standing on a platform with Sam and the newscasters talked about how impressive Sam’s suit was. It was unnatural, the effect he had on people.

And in all her years, she never thought she’d see anyone weirder than Sam. But then James Barnes had showed up. It was like a complete reversal of Sam. Sarah was taken in for approximately three hours by his charm and face before she realized he too was deeply, deeply weird.

She justified sitting on the edge of the Paul and Darlene, watching her brother and James Barnes spar off about some dumb trivia fact, by deciding it was an anthropological expedition. The North American Superhero in a Domestic Situation. She watched Sam watch Barnes take a long pull off his beer. She watched Barnes kick his feet up near Sam’s legs and then draw them back quickly when a current jolted the boat. She watched Barnes’ fingers tap-tap-tap against the edge of the boat, inching closer to Sam’s shoulder before he chickened out and brought his hand back to his own lap. She watched Sam suggest Bucky take his jacket off, ‘unless you plan on sun blinding me with the robocop arm.’ She watched Sam look away when Barnes did shrug his jacket off.

When she was seventeen and Sam was fifteen, she had found Sam crying in his room, pillow pressed to his face to muffle the noise. They were at the age where going into each other’s rooms uninvited started international conflicts, but Sarah, who watched her brother intently, felt like she knew what was going on. So she let herself in through their Jack-and-Jill bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn’t stop crying, not even to yell at her to get out, so she sat on the end of his bed and rolled a baseball under her foot for a while. Finally, she’d said, “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad, y’know.”

Sam had just about wailed and bit the corner of his pillow to stop himself.

“That’s gross, stop it,” Sarah ordered and pushed Sam’s shoulder back enough to yank his pillow free and then reached over to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I should make you do the laundry this week so I know I’m not touching your snot germs,” she teased softly.

“How did you know?” Sam hiccuped out. Tears were still brimming at his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

“I’m your older sister. I made you. Like a doll. You think there’s something about you that I don’t know?” she joked. And when the tears did spill over his long lashes, she sighed and pulled him closer to her side. “I just know the way you interact with that boy from the basketball team ain’t just friendly.”

“Jesus, do you think he can tell?” Sam asked and she could hear the mortification in his voice.

“Sam, he’s a freshman in high school. The only thing he knows is that he’s scared of everything too. No one’s paying that much attention to you.”

“Screw you,” Sam muttered.

“What’re all these tears for you if you didn’t make a move and get shot down?”

“God, Sarah, can you not say things like that?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sarah warned with no heat in her voice. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“I just…” Sam sat up and worked his jaw for a while. His chin dimpled and his eyes watered but he managed to control himself. “I’m scared, Sarah. I’m scared of never being in love. Of having to leave if I am. I’m scared to say something and I’m scared not to say something. I’m so scared of...losing any of it.”

“Sam,” Sarah sighed and pulled Sam into another hug. “You’re fifteen. You’re not supposed to be in love yet. You don’t have to think about any of that. You just have to focus on passing Geometry, alright? Mom’ll whoop your ass more for failing than anything else.”

“I have a B+, that’s not failing!” Sam snapped. He kept his face against her shoulder for a second long before he sat up and wiped his tears away. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I gonna tell? I told you, my friends don’t like you as much as you think they do.”

“Your friends like me more than they like you,” Sam shot back and he almost sounded normal.

Sarah smiled softly and patted Sam’s cheek. “I won’t tell Mom or Dad. Of course not. That’s for you to do. But--”

“I’m always going to tell them when you sneak out the window.”

“No! Sam! You can’t! You owe me now!”

“Going to field parties is not the same thing!” Sam said in a shriek as Sarah leaned over to pinch his sides. They grappled for a second before Sam managed to push Sarah off the bed.

“You owe me,” she reminded him as she walked back to the bathroom.

Sam wiped his eyes again and nodded. “Sure, Sarah. I do.”

Sam almost had the same look on his face now. Like there was something he wanted to reach for that he thought was too impossible to hold. The Older Sister Instinct to Antagonize into a Solution kicked in.

“Two bros, chilling on a boat, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” she sing-songed. Sam looked mortified again but masked his face into something more irritated with a roll of his eyes when Barnes looked over at him.

“Ignore her. It’s this old video--” Sam started.

But Bucky interrupted to say, “Actually I am gay,” as he looked back over at Sarah. “Sorry if I got your hopes up,” he added with a grin that really did get the hopes up.

“What?” Sam asked and Sarah, ever watchful, could see the beer bottle shaking in his hand.

“What?” Bucky repeated innocently.

“He said he’s gay,” Sarah clarified.

“Thank you, Sarah,” Sam ground out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bucky snorted. “When would I have said anything? ‘Sorry for ripping your wings off and kicking you off of a hellicarrier, by the way I’m gay.’?”

“You did what?” Sarah asked.

“‘Sorry for claiming I didn’t bomb the UN only to be reverted back to the assassin who would have done that and then fighting you again. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Thanks for saving my life. Sorry about the giant undersea prison. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘There’s an imminent battle with weird ass space dogs that want to eat our faces. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Sorry about Tony Stark, whose life I kind of ruined. Lovely funeral. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘I’m in the middle of being pissed at you about the Shield. By the way I’m gay.’ ‘Maybe don’t take me rolling through a field of flowers. It does things to me ‘cause I’m gay.’ ‘John Walker’s fucking insane. I’m gay, but definitely not for this bullshit.’ I mean, come on, Sam.”

“Flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Besides, why would you care? I don’t make it a habit of telling straight guys I’m into guys.”

“You don’t seem to make a habit of telling many people that,” Sarah pointed out. “I googled you. Nothing suggesting that came up.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m a guy from the 30s. It was trained out of me.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sarah said quickly. “Back up away from that because we’re not gonna try to Oppression Olympics our way through our histories. Did you just say Sam was straight?”

“Sarah!” Sam hissed.

“Sure. I mean, I saw him with Romanov. Hill. He has Tinder on his phone.”

“Samuel Thomas, you better not,” Sarah warned lightly. “You’re better than that.”

“He’s a lady-killer.”

Sarah snorted and had to bring her hand up to her face. “He definitely is not. There has been no lady-killing on his end for a long time.”

“Sarah!” Sam tried again.

“You explain it to him then. Mr. 30s is gonna need the long way round explanation.”

Sam sighed and dragged his hand over his face. “Dammit. Fine. I’m not straight either, alright? I’m...bi, or something. It’s been a while since I’ve had to think about it.”

“What?” Bucky asked, not unlike Sam had.

“He said he’s bisexual. Interested in both parties. Swings either way. Hit a homerun and then hasn’t really swung since.”

“Sarah, Jesus Christ,” Sam groaned.

“What?” Bucky asked again.

“I was engaged. To a man,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the irony.

“Oh, it was inconvenient for you but I had plenty of opportunities, huh?” Sam asked. “Ms. Tell-It-All over there wasn’t joking. I haven’t swung any direction in a while. Not since before I met Steve. My fiance died. And then it never came up.”

Bucky blinked at Sam. He kept bringing the bottle halfway up his body and then setting it back on his leg without ever taking a drink. “Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry,” Bucky said, which was not what Sarah was expecting and it clearly wasn’t what Sam was expecting because Sam finally moved closer to Bucky on the bench.

“What for? You didn’t do anything. This time.”

“Yeah, but if I’d known you were into me too, I woulda kissed you in Germany.”

“Oh, I am so not into you,” Sam denied. “And I wouldn’t have our first kiss ruined by immediately running into the government’s roving show monkey.”

“That’s the worst,” Bucky agreed and also finally moved over on the bench until they were pressed thigh to thigh. “Tell me how much you don’t like me again,” he challenged.

“I can’t stand you,” Sam answered and brought his hand up to Bucky’s jaw.

Sarah couldn’t fight down the grin that came to her face and turned to prop her feet on the pier, back to Sam and Bucky. Just this once, she didn’t need to watch her brother to understand him.

Read on AO3 here!

[illfoandillfie]

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 3/4 - Snowballs and cigarettes

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: The snows finally stopped and its about time you got to work unburying your car. With your friends all prompting you to move on from your toxic ex you find yourself becoming more and more aware of the kind of person you’d want to be with. And how Frankie was ticking all those boxes.

Authors notes: Ugh okay I was over the max block text so the finale is split into two parts!! But you get them both tonight💕🌻💕 .

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, allusions to sex (nothing depicted), PTSD, smoking, drinking, swearing

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Word count: 4.0k

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Day 4

It had only been three days but you had found yourself in a routine that you hoped you never fell out of. Each morning he’d wake up first and you’d be predictably wrapped around him for another 2 hours or so. He found it hard to believe you were able to wake up before 10am, let alone that you were up at 5am most days but he’d love to be around to see it happen. For the first time, he saw something he’d long given up on. A future with someone else ingrained into his and his daughters life. Maybe it was stupid feeling this way after a few days, but he was old enough to know when he felt a real connection, and he’d never felt as good as he did when he was with you. He would make his feelings known to you, one way or another, he’d regret it forever if he let you slip through his fingers. He just had to find the right time to do it. It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone in the same bed as you and even longer since the person was someone who made you feel safe and secure. There was something calming about knowing that even if you pushed your freezing cold feet between his calves in the middle of the night he wouldn’t get angry, or push you off he’d just grumble and pull you closer.

It sounded pathetic but it was the nicest a guy had been to you in years. You knew how stupid it was to catch feelings this fast, and it definitely wasn’t like you to feel such strong emotions. Since the funeral you had actively decided to forego them although. This benefited your work, helped you in your field, made you a better doctor, but keeping all your emotions bottled up took its toll. Primarily on your love life. You’d had your fair share of flings with other residents, nurses, friends of friends, but between classes and shift work there wasn’t time. Plus what was the point when you had no idea where you’d be moved to. At least that’s what you told yourself. Then Jonathan came along and you’d let him in, let him know you and you fell for him in the process. Then he’d started dating someone else, told you he didn't realize you were exclusive, and it shattered you completely. You’d pieced yourself back together and once you were better, once you were finally over him, he’d cycle back round to you, determined to keep you on retainer. The whole ordeal had left you tired. You’d never had a real relationship and you were already done with them. You never understood how people would want to live with someone for the rest of their lives until now. Catching feelings had always happened in periphery to your life making it easy to push by a crush by simply avoiding them, but you couldn’t avoid Frankie. Each day you spent trapped inside with him he’d continued to grow on you, cementing your feelings for him tenfold. You yawn and stretch your leg out over Frankies torso propping yourself up onto your elbow so you can reach over him and grab the glass of water on the nightstand. He exhales as if your movement across him is an inconvenience to his meticulous strategy for winning whatever game he was playing on his phone. You take a sip and put the cup back down, rolling off the bed and opening the curtains.

“Hey!” you shout, causing Frankies head to shoot over to you, “It stopped snowing!” you exclaim, gazing out over the parking lot where the snow had fallen. The powder undulating overtop the cars buried beneath it. You stretch your arms up catching an unsavoury whiff coming from your armpits causing you to pull a face. Turning around just in time to see Frankie laughing from the bathroom door.

“Seriously man? Do you have to beat me to everything!” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Gotta be faster sweetheart.” he says, closing the door behind him. From anyone else the term would have driven you into a rage induced frenzy, but it was endearing not condescending coming from him. You take the time to call Stella, you’d been texting with her since you got stuck but you felt it was time to officially announce your arrival as permanently cancelled.

“Hey girl”

“Hey babe what's going on? You calling with good or bad news?” she asks, a constant bustle evident in the background.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, but only bad news on my end. I am so fucking sorry, I should have just flown down like you said” you offer, leaning back against the window allowing the chill of the outside to cool you off.

“Well this is why you should always listen to me, but i’ll forgive you just this once.” she laughs.

“God I can’t believe the one wedding I actually care about I’m going to miss!” you exasperated, shifting away from the window and flopping down onto the bed.

“Well I definitely won’t miss you, especially considering you’ve already sent a gift.” she teases.

“How, very dare you” you punctuate.

“Yup long con paid off, 10 years I pretended to like you just to get you to buy me a toaster from ebay” Stella laughs.

“You could have just stolen mine after the first year, then you could have had me gone!” you state.

“Ugh a huge mistake!!” she overemphasizes dramatically, causing you both to burst out laughing.

“So….” you say after your giggles subside leaving a gentle ache in your ribs that always occurred when you talked to Stella.

“What?” she asks, sniffling.

“ Did John make it out there?” you ask, in a painfully transparent way.

“Why?” she spits, her tone suddenly lethal. She hated the guy, she was the one who was always left dealing with you after he’d used you up, helping to piece you back together, just in time for him to get a hold on you again.

“He asked about me?” you query, once again failing to convey your intentions.

“I’m not indulging this anymore, it's bad for you. He’s bad for you, there's only so many times I can watch him emotionally manipulate you” she rants.

“Ya, but it's easy and it's so good with him.” you emphasize.

“It’s not easy, take it from someone in an easy relationship, it's not supposed to hurt that much.” she chides, determined to have you see the light.

“But..”

“Nope, I'm drawing the line for you, find someone else. You’re a gorgeous single doctor,

“Almost doctor” you interrupt, but the statement is ignored.

“Aren’t you currently shacked up with one of my stupid brothers friends?”

“Yes? And?” you say, your heart suddenly beating faster as your head turns to see Frankies hat on the nightstand.

“Frankie right? Statue like, soft curls, kind, deep brown eyes? And don’t pretend like you didn’t notice I know you like the back of my hand!”

“So what if I have, doesn't mean..” you whisper, not wanting him to hear you.

“Nope, don’t sell yourself short, I say get cozy with him and finally move on from dickhead McGee, even if it's just for a night, cleanse the palette. Besides, you know he’ll be doing whoever looks his way at my wedding.” you hear a muffled shout “alright I have to go, something about the bridesmaids fighting.”

“Your sisters? Fighting? Who could have seen that coming” you deadpan.

“I know, god I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was as well i'll call tomorrow in case you get cold feet, I have a five point plan”

“I won't” she chimes.

“ I know because you love her”

“And I also love you” she says

“And I love you” you respond before hanging up. Not even a minute after hanging up you get a call from Santiago

“Hey, I just wanted to verbally apologize for trapping you with ‘Fish, though he's definitely one of the better ones to get stuck with.” he says.

“Well that’s good to know” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“He hasn’t tried anything has he? If he has I'll kill him, and get away with it, you'll have to help me with the body but...” Santiago starts.

“Santi, it's fine he's cool, really sweet, actually,” you offer heat rushing to your face for some unknown reason.

“Good. He touches you ill..” he warns.

“You’ll kill him ya I got it!” you snap, you understood why Santiago felt like he had to play big brother for you but sometimes he was a touch overbearing. “Is John there?” you try and ask casually, failing to head Stellas advice.

“Don’t...” Santi starts, you can practically hear his jaw clench over the phone “you know if I see him tonight i'm gonna knock him out for how he treats you”

“It wasn’t that bad.” you whisper.

“It was, still is, I heard him bragging about how if worse comes to worse he always has his plan D,” he offers, not to hurt you but to try and free you from the cycle.

“That dick. You know what Stellas right, fuck him!” you exclaim with a newfound determination to rid him from your life.

“Oh my god, are you finally seeing the light?” Santi asks “Praise the lord!” He shouts up into the sky.

“Ya I guess so” you say staring at Frankie as he dries his hair with the towel. “I gotta go, see you soon.”

“Not soon enough” he laughs as you hang up.

“Whose that?” Frankie asks, still curious about who you’d been hoping to see at the wedding and what they’d done to earn your affection.

“Pope!” you say with a smile, pushing your back off the bed and sitting up.

“Threatening to kill me?” Frankie predicts.

“Ya we have a plan” you murmur.

“We?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and his mouth upturned at the sides.

“Well he'll kill you but, I cant have him go to jail so i'll have to hide your body.” you explain

“Good glad that got sorted” he says, his smile now in full effect.

“I'll go grab some breakfast” you say.

“No ill get it, you’re always getting it, plus gives you time to shower, I can smell you from here.” He prods, grabbing the key.

“Rude!” you yell out after him.

He's back when you exit the shower

“Oh thank you, you say grabbing the plate form him”

“Just what the doctor ordered, hey?” he asks, smiling stupidly big.

“Ouuuf that that was bad truly apologize to me” He laughs at how serious your face gets “You're laughing? I had to listen to that joke and you're laughing?” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “Here's something that'll wipe that stupid smile off your face, snow stops which means we have to clear off my car.”

“Using the royal we are we?” he asks

“Think of it as repayment for the pun,” you say waving your fork in his face

“How will we be clearing it off?” he asks, leaning over the counter.

“Brush” you say, as if it's obvious

“Where's the brush?” he asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for an answer.

“In the….oh” you say, face dropping when you realize that the brush was in the car currently buried under a snow pile.

“Not so smart now” he laughs pushing back off the counter taking your empty plate with him, washing it up for you.

“Well I guess we just have to get to the door with our hands then” you say smiling.

“Once again, about this we,” he says, drying his hands on the dish towel, turning to see a dramatic pout plastered across your face.

“Fine, I'll only help because I think you may disappear in the snow if you go in alone” he responds, the truth was, he couldn't deny you.

You both get dressed into the most winter proof clothes you had, neither of you having packed for a snowy expedition. As you exit the room you see him grab a pack of cigarettes he’d been hiding, not wanting you to see his worst traits.

“Those will kill you, you know,” you say, causing him to roll his eyes dramatically.

“Okay mom” he laughs grabbing the lighter despite your disapproving glare,

“You have a daughter to think about” you say, feeling like you'd be letting your profession down by giving up so easily.

“It's why I smoke, the safest way to calm the nerves while staying clean” he murmurs with a look on his face that is enough to get you to drop it for now. You weren't about to pry into his struggle with addiction and you certainly weren’t one to judge, you’d faced similar issues after your brothers passing.

“I used to smoke,” you confess as the elevator doors close in front of you both.

“Seriously?” he remarks, not able to believe it.

“Pack a week for about a year” you say, slowly nodding your head as the two of you walk through the foyer towards the parking lot.

“You quit?” He asks, impressed.

“Ya I don’t think it was long enough to form a habit. When did you start?” you offer as you move your legs through the snow, it was dense your legs would be sore tomorrow.

“What? Are you gonna assess the state of my lungs?” Frankie laughs, moving easily through the snow you were struggling so hard against.

“Yes, but i'll only tell you the results if you want to know”

“Few years back, after...” he stops himself before confessing the worst thing that ever happened in his life.

“The mission” you finish for him, remembering how Pope had picked up similar habits once he finally returned home. “You were there with Santi?” you question

“He told you about it?” he asks, sterner than you’d seen him before, he was afraid that you knew what a monster he was. You shake your head, no and he thanks the gods. “You think i'm going to?” He queries lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag, making sure not to blow it out anywhere near you.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s the one thing he wont tell me about, figured it would be easier for you if you were talking to a stranger about it.”

“Not much of a stranger now” he laughs, but there was something behind his eyes, a similar sadness that you saw with Santi when he talked about it. Your thoughts are interrupted when something cold hits you in the face, your mouth drops open, your forehead scrunches in disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” he looks up panicked

“I guess it's what I get for asking so many questions” you say, hand still over your face playing into it as you formulate your attack.

“No, oh my god! No! It wasn't because of that, let me see” he says, you let your hands drop and you smile wickedly up at him. Before he has time to react, you rub a handful of snow into his face.

“Oh... you're gonna pay for that.” he draws out, wiping the snow from his face.

After 15 minutes of all out war, and a brief truce that was to be officially signed once back inside you managed to get to the door handle and lean into the back seat grabbing out the brush. You offer it to Frankie, but he's already started clearing off the rest of the car with his arms.

“Hey can you grab my spare charger out of the compartment there?” you say cleaning off the trunk, the front doors now accessible.

“Ya, holy shit is this a knife?” he asks, pulling out a knife.

“Maybe.” You say staring into his eyes as his mouth hangs open in amusement. “For safety, I didn't know who I'd be driving up with! You coulda been a murderer” you explain palms up.

“And you were planning on what? shanking me?” he laughs a huge smile on his face, weirdly endeared by your thought process.

“Only if I had to.” You say chuckling between shivers, the cold now seeping through your makeshift snowsuit hitting against the sweat you’d worked up.

“You want it?” He offers.

“No i'm good, thanks”

“Because you don’t think I'm a murderer or because you have another one hidden in the room already?” he laughs, but he stops when you tilt your head slightly and raise your eyebrows, averting your eyes.

“Wait, do I need this knife?” he calls as you trudge back through the snow.

You both change into less sweaty attire and you settle into the couch turning on to watch the latest forensic files rerun. You shiver as you sit down having caught a chill. Noticing you shaking, Frankie goes to the wardrobe and grabs down a spare blanket throwing one at you so it lands directly over your head. He laughs when he sees you slowly turn towards him beneath the blanket, like someone in a makeshift ghost costume.

“Excuse me!” you laugh

“Hey you should be thanking me, can't have you freezing to death.” he says, “Are you asleep under there?” he asks, when you don't respond

“I'm not a cat! I don't fall asleep when someone throws a blanket over me!” He's not paying attention to what he's doing and the bottle in his hand shatters against the counter, a shard slicing his hand open.

“Fucking shit.” you him sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ask maneuvering out from under your blankets to see Frankie in the kitchen, glass on the floor and blood coming down his arm.

“Wow you're out of my sight for 2 seconds and you maim yourself” you say laughing, stopping when you see the panicked look in his eye, the event evidently triggering something deep in his psyche. You quickly stand up and he goes to move towards you.

“No don't move Frankie, stay where you are.” you reassure softly, watching as his eyes lay into your own, his breathing calmer now “You're in socks, can't have you cutting your dancing feet” you say.

“You’ve heard of my dancing feet,” he says, grounding himself again.

“Only bad things” you say, throwing him a pair of shoes that he carefully puts on before moving toward the closet where the broom is “No come here, let me see your hand. The mess can wait, you're more important,” you stress leading him over to the couch and sitting him down.

“Wow, first time I'll be able to afford professional health care “ he jokes as you take his hands in your own.

“Ow” he says when you press down onto the hand to assess the damage.

“It's fine, not deep enough for stitches, should heal up on its own. I still want to clean it though, to stop any infection.” You return with a small bottle of over priced vodka opening it and dabbing some onto a cotton pad. He doesn't flinch when the alcohol cleans the wound and he watches as you bandage his hand up.

“You carry a med pack with you on every trip?” he queries, but you don’t hear him you’re too focused on wrapping his hand.

“There! good as new,” you say standing up and cleaning up the glass on the floor. “Hey did you bring a swimsuit?” you ask, dumping the glass into some newspaper that was left in the room.

“Why?” He asks.

“Answer the question Frankie” you say, folding the paper around the shards before placing it into the trash.

“Yes, you wanna go hang out at the pool with the fifty families stuck here?”

“Ya. You don't? Seriously this room is wildly expensive and has a huge jacuzzi tub, I'm getting in your welcome to join, but bathing suits are mandatory.” you offer.

“I was gonna get in fully clothed,” he offers, not missing a beat.

“Perfect even better”

As per usual he beats you to the punch and settles into the tub that was more akin to a hot tub than a bath, he wanted to get in first partially to annoy you and partially so his body wouldn’t be on full display, he wasn't as jacked as he once was and he’d become insecure about certain areas that he’d let go once his kid came along. He watches as you walk in and his eyes can't help but follow your figure around the room, a beautiful person behind a beautiful personality, he thanks the universe for placing him into your orbit.

“That why they call you catfish?” you ask drawing him from his daydream back into an equally pleasing reality.

“What?” he responds, blushing at having been called out on his gawking.

“Cause your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water when you're zoned out” you smirk, lowering yourself down into the tub.

“Rude” he says splashing after you settle in.

“Alright, Frankie, what is it?” you ask, causing his face to look up to you “what's your deal, apart from smoking? You gotta have flaws”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he charms

“Sinister” you laugh, but he doesn't, you reach your foot up tapping his cheek with it,

“Disgusting,” he chuckles, grabbing it and rubbing the arch before pushing it back into the water.

“God, I miss the ocean” you confess, “ I hate the city sometimes.”

“You’re not planning on staying in Chicago after you're done?”

“Nope, gonna get myself out to the coast, or at least somewhere without winters.” you say stretching your arms out across the tub. “How about you, are you planning on staying?”

“ Probably, no reason to leave, plus it's close to my mom so she can take care of Arianna when I'm at work, though I wouldn't be opposed to moving if the opportunity presented itself she's young enough that it wouldn’t be too hard.” he says, wanting you to know that if you asked, hed follow you anywhere.

“Arianna, beautiful name. Did you pick it?” you ask looking up when a few minutes of silence pass. As you do you notice that the somber look from early had returned. “You okay?” you ask.

“I don't deserve her, I don’t deserve something so good.” he states, suddenly realizing he didn’t deserve someone like you either. You wouldn’t be sitting in the tub with him if you knew what he’d done.

“Frankie that's not true” you reassure

“You don't know the shit I've done. I'm not... I'm not a good person,” he says, still not looking over to you.

“Well, I…” you begin to refute.

“Seriously, I've done bad things… awful things'' he clears his throat, afraid to look at you, afraid you’d be terrified by him.

“People make bad mistakes, but that doesn't make them irredeemable, not if they are willing to change. You understand what you did was bad, that says something.” you reassure, knowing the guilt was likely left over from the military.

“Well, wise words coming from someone who's never done anything bad”

“You don't know me that well Frankie, I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, crappy things to numb the pain. It's what we do to make up for those shitty actions that count. At every turn, you’ve shown me that you're not an evil person. Everything I’ve seen is good, and funny and incredibly kind.” you finish and you continue to nudge him with your foot until he finally cracks a smile.

“Well now you're smiling again, my missions complete and it's time for bed” you say stepping out of the tub and drying off, unaware that you’d just made Frankie fall even harder for you. His eyes helplessly following you as you leave the bathroom.

“Since I'm an outpatient, does that mean I get the good side of the bed?” he calls out after you. You roll your eyes but let him have it, you preferred the sleeping situation the way it was.

[fics-not-tragedies]

Dirty little secret

It’s tasty, it’s plenty. THIS IS HUNGRY WORK. Also it’s a full version of this KINKtober drabble, so beware it’s really juicy! With dedication for @fanficsrusz​, since she confessed she missed my fics 😈

SUMMARY: John found your vibrator while cleaning the house and he’s a bit jealous of it. Words:  5776; Warnings: smut, wild one, use of sex toys, swearing;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a–1–1–3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun​; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83​; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge;

You pushed on the door handle and it opened with ease. You were flustered - strands of hair fell into your face, your coat getting momentarily caught on the door and you’d barely made it inside before you could hear his voice, the thickness of it echoing down from the end of the corridor past several rooms.

“Love? Is it you?” he called.

“Yes! Just gonna start dinner!” you replied, all your focus on the task at hand, balancing your bags in your arms as you kicked the door shut firmly behind you.

“Can you come here first?” there was an edge to his voice, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, the question hanging in the air, to be continued.

You carried the shopping bags into the kitchen and heaved them onto the counter-top with a heavy sigh, the relief of setting down their weight relaxing your body instantly. You slid out of your shoes and coat on the way to the bedroom, suspicious as no follow up came until you stood in the door frame and looked at John, your face reddening instantly.

He looked gorgeous, the white shirt, the necktie, the dark suit trousers with a thick fabric belt. Those long hair falling into his face. And in his hand, he held something that you sure hadn’t meant for him find, let alone hold and confront you with, the shiny new toy you’d purchased online not too long ago, to make lonely nights without him a little easier.

You tried to think of something to say, your mouth opening and closing a few times uselessly and you felt flushed. The image before you was confusingly gorgeous and embarrassing and somehow turning you all at the same time and John cocked his head a little, his jaw tensing as he began to speak again.

“I were cleaning the house while you were out… and I found this” John took one step towards you, as if accusing you of something very serious, then lowered his gaze, looking so far into you that you could feel your palms sweating, fingers shaking.

He was so hard to read when he was like this, not quite smiling, not alarmingly serious but something dangerous just under the surface and you tried to look away, instantly worried that your silence would only provoke him. You turned your knees inwards, glued to the spot. The corners of his mouth twitched.

“Care to explain yourself, little girl? Or just gonna stand there?”

Your cheeks were burning now and you took a step towards him, reaching out abruptly and trying to grab the vibrator from him but he just held it up high, letting it fall into his other hand stepping back, holding it out of your reach.

“Nuh-uh, girl, I wanna know what this is about. My cock isn’t enough?” he asked, his gaze dark, fixated on you.

“I only use it when you’re away, baby,” you replied, intoxicatingly closer to him now, just relieved you’d managed to spit an answer out at last, “It’s nothing.”

The cockiness was maddening you. You knew he’d noticed how red you were, knew he’d realized how weak you were, the way he was refusing to blink as he glared at you.

“Are you embarrassed?” he teased, taking another step back to avoid your incessant grabbing. “Didn’t want me to find it?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d get so jealous…” you replied, lifting your chin and licking your lip quickly in nervousness. The scratch at his ego was enough for him to flinch. He didn’t like that, didn’t expect you to answer back so easily, but there was something about challenging this John, the dark John, which thrilled you in ways you couldn’t explain.

He took a moment to compose himself, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat, straining against his sensitive skin. “Not jealous, love…” he drawled, “No, no, I simply don’t understand why you need it…” he hummed, “I always thought I satisfied you, little girl…”

You bit your lip, giving up on your desperate attempts to claim your toy, sinking down to stand in front of him again. “Can’t satisfy me when you’re on tour for weeks, Jonathan…” you mumbled, watching him carefully, eager to drink in his every move.

That had apparently annoyed him too, a sensitive subject and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. He was too much of a control freak, far too on edge now to have you answer him back like that but he always had the perfect response.

“Does this… toy make you moan like I do?” he asked.

He watched your lips part at the question. You knew what you were doing now, purposely building his frustration until he would snap.

“Wellllll, it does have these different levels of vibrations that are so good….” you replied plainly, crossing your arms, counteracting his tease with one of your own. You’d thought about what you were going to say before you’d said it but didn’t know it would have this effect on him.

You could see the rage you’d prompted, the way the veins in his arms and neck were beginning to bulge, his fist clamped so tightly around your toy you thought he might break it. John stepped forward with purpose, closing the gap between you at last, his gaze still intensely locked on yours, the vibrator still very firmly in his grip.

“Take off your clothes, please” he spat, his glare so hard to tear away from, “Now.”

“W-Why?” you asked quietly, trying to hold his gaze, swallowing hard.

“Just do as I fucking say” John drawled, his eyes so full of lust, and something else that made your skin tingle, a dull ache between your legs.

“John, I hav-…”

“I said take them off…” he repeated, the order followed by a low groan from the back of his throat.

The sound made you tremble and you stepped back from him slightly, your shaking hands coming up to start unbuttoning your blouse, keeping your eyes locked on his, your lips pressed together as you tried to figure him out, tried to figure out what he had in store for you. He watched you undress, mesmerized by how he already had you trembling, one hand reaching to scratch over his buzzed head.

You discarded your clothes as quickly as you could, shimmying your underwear off too. You’d been home for no more than three minutes and he already had you naked, vulnerable, waiting for him. You felt the need to cover your body a little but he’d told you how much he hated you doing it before so you let your arms dangle at your sides, waiting, just waiting.

“Now…” he mumbled, stepping forward to you again, gesturing with the vibrator, “show me how you fuck your cunt on it…”

If you had been embarrassed before, now it was almost too much to bare and you wobbled on the spot, his words sending a jolting ache through you.

“John…”

His free hand moved towards you and his thumb came up to stroke your lips, the first time he’d touched you. He was drinking you in, enjoying every second of the torture he had you under.

“I know you’re wet already” he mumbled, pulling your bottom lip down slightly as his knuckles pressed into the skin under your chin, “I know you need something to feel you up…”

You gasped, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your heart racing, your mind clouded with lust and just that deep, primal desire for him, “John…”

“I want you spread on the bed, because I fucking want to watch you…”

You had nothing to say. He’d won this round. So with one final sigh you nodded convincingly, shook your hair loose from the ponytail and tiptoed across the room, surprised you could even walk. He practically lowered you onto the bed with his gaze himself, probably already having brought you over the edge at least three times and in three different ways in his mind. You arched your back as you shuffled back and spread your legs.

At first you were unsure if you’d even be wet enough but from the way John was eyeing you, the obvious lick of his lips, you weren’t surprised when you coated your fingers with ease just by gently teasing your folds.

“That’s my girl, oh yesss…” he sighed through gritted teeth.

As soon as you’d touched yourself you knew you’d need more, the insatiability growing and you found yourself reaching for the vibrator wordlessly, John’s face curious but still very much on edge as he held it out for you.

“I want you to look at me the whole time…” John drawled, biting down on his lip as he watched you carefully, “keep your eyes at me while you fuck yourself with that toy…”

You gasped, his words alone making you weak and teased your entrance with the toy instantly to get the tip wet, your other hand coming down to start rubbing your clit, your eyes already falling shut at the feeling of final relief and you wanted more, wanted him.

“Little girl…” he groaned and you heard him shuffling closer instantly, “what I just fucking said?”

Your breath shaking, your eyes snapped open, meeting his dark ones.

“S-Sorry…” you breathed, your voice trailing off into a whimper as you poked the tip of the toy inside you, rubbing your clit harder, already breathing heavily. John watched you lustfully, licking his lips, his facial features hard, unimpressed, so focused on you, your every move. He was going to enjoy this.

You thought he’d sit down, make himself comfortable at least but instead he leans back against the wall, his arms crossed, looking down at you over his nose. As you twisted the toy inside you fully for the first time, you gasped and watched John flinch, unable to hide just how much he hated not being the sole reason for that noise. You bit your lip as you pulled it out and pushed it back in again, the wetness spreading by the second, struggling to hide your illicit moans.

“Just pretend I’m not here” he mumbled, “ and eyes on me.”

He was so impossible, always making things so difficult. How could you fulfill both of those demands? That’s when you glanced down momentarily to his crotch and realized just how hard he was, his erection fighting the fabric of his tight trousers which only fueled you even more. The outline of his cock made you rub your clit harder, faster and you began to speed up, your breaths hitching in your throat, figuring that the quicker you could make yourself cum, the quicker he’d be inside you instead.

It felt strange, using the toy when he was right there and you were desperate for him. On lonely nights without him, the feeling of it inside you as a relief had you aching too, in a different way but right now, it didn’t compare to the image you had inside your mind of John’s cock filling you slowly, throbbing, feeling the heat of his body against yours.

“I’ve heard something about vibrations” he drawled, his eyes focused on the toy moving in and out of you, shiny with your wetness.

You breathed out shakily, reaching to switch on the first stage of vibration, moaning and struggling to keep your eyes open and fixed on him, your lips parted, moans of pleasure falling from your lips as you tried to keep your eyes from wandering, his tight trousers barely containing him. You wanted him so badly, wanted him to get on top of you, take you, fuck you senseless, but no teasing would get you that now. He had a plan, and obeying him was the only thing you could do.

“I want to see you cum, little girl” John growled, throatily, his eyes wide and fixated on your every movement, “number two, come on” he declared. He was impatient now, palming himself inconspicuously through his trousers and as you switched to the second vibration setting you felt the feeling grow in your stomach, the familiar euphoria of being on the edge, so close to coming undone completely. Your forced your eyes open, scared to close them and knowing the eye contact would only make you cum harder.

“Are you gonna cum for me, little girl?” John groaned, his eyes boring into yours, intense, and making you shiver. You were so close, the way he was looking at you only making you wetter and you couldn’t only feel but also hear the toy moving inside you obscenely.

“You look gorgeous spread out like that, girl…” he groaned, “oh come on, little girl, fuck yourself harder, I know you can do much better than this…”

You whimpered, doing as he said, whimpering each time you pushed the toy inside you, your walls fluttering, squeezing at it, the pleasure increasing with each stroke creating friction inside you, making you hotter and hotter.

And then, just when you were sure you were going to burn up, the feeling came, building and building and then you fell apart at last. You threw your head back, the groan erupting from your lips obscene and your legs shook, the toy still firmly inside you, one hand gripped to the base. Your walls danced around it, contracting again and again and though it felt good, you wanted him now, even in the midst of your orgasm. John was down on his knees before you could recover from the waves, kissing the inside of your thighs, already beginning to put your toy to use again, driving it into you himself.

“I want you to tell me when there’s only one left, little girl…”

“I can- I think I can gooooo- ohhhh - to three.”

John smirked in response and though you weren’t sure what it meant, you knew you’d find out eventually.

You tensed as he pushed your hand away and started the driving the toy in and out of you, fast and hard, enjoying the way he had you writhing in no time.

“J-John…” you cried, your hips shaking, bucking towards the vibrator.

“You want it deeper, don’t you?” he asked, groaning as he watched the way you tried to fuck yourself on the toy, whining, desperate for him to fill you instead.

“You like that?” he asked, flicking the switch that made the vibrations intensify, making you whimper, “You look fantastic when you’re at my mercy…”

“John…” you groaned, over and over, sweaty strands of hair falling into your face, “Jonathan…” he had a weakness for you calling his name like this, the way it fell from your lips so uncontrollably and he hissed back, his erection throbbing.

His knuckles brushed violently against your clit each time you met and you circled your hips slightly, enjoying the way it stretched you, your eyes now so heavily lidded with lust and desire than you couldn’t see. The toy didn’t compare, would never compare to him - his size, his length the way he buried inside you and you salivated at the thought of it as he continued to fuck you relentlessly with the flicks of his wrist.

John drove the vibrator inside you again and again, not even stopping for a moment, like he wanted to test you, test how far and how hard he could go, making you cry out his name over and over again, already feeling your orgasm creeping up on you again.

“Look how long it takes you to cum on that thing” he mumbled, licking his lips as he watched how the toy kept disappearing inside you, “it doesn’t take that long when I’m fucking your cunt with my cock.”

“Then let me have you instead” you groaned, out of breath, sweaty, close to giving in once again, “I want you…”

“Patience, love, we’ll get to it, eventually…” he mumbled, shifting closer, ready to tease you even more. Turning on the highest vibration setting, you watched his bicep flex, strained under the fabric of his white shirt and then he speed up again, making your legs spread even wider for him.

He was almost there, in the reach of your arm and you were reaching out to rake your fingernails over his head, tug on his hair for stability, but before you could touch him you were already gone again, spiraling again, the vibration shaking your walls, not quite hitting the spot he always did, but it was enough to have you cumming for a second time. You whimpered through it, and he slowed his movement as you came down, grinning when you could open your eyes and look into his again.

“That’s two…” you panted, “just one more.”

“We’ll see” he mumbled, standing back up and gesturing for you to help him out of his trousers.

You whined softly as he pulled the toy out of you, placing it aside and you shot up instantly when you realized he was going to finally fuck you, gladly undoing his trousers, shuffling them down his hips, eager to pull his hard cock from its restraints. You were salivating, looking desperately at him, knowing he’d fuck you so much better than the toy and you were impatient, needed him so badly.

“Don’t think I will give it to you that easily…” John groaned, his hands gripping your ankles as he pulled you downwards again, until your legs were placed on the floor, ass placed on the edge of your bed.

He stepped out of his pants, discarding them to the side, until the purple toy was back in his hand and set to the highest vibration mode.

“J-John…” you writhed, moaning out his name, when he slid the vibrator inside your soaked cunt again, his free hand gripping your hip tightly, steadying your movements.

“I told you it won’t be too easy.”

“Let me touch you then… let me wrap my hand around your c-” he didn’t let you finish the sentence when he drove the vibrator back inside you. His other hand was still painfully gripping your hip, keeping you in place, as you withered again, your head falling backwards.

“Beg” he commanded and you groaned loudly, “beg or I’ll won’t stop ‘til you faint.”

“John, p-please…” you mumbled out swallowing hard, as your eyes met his gaze.

“Louder” John growled through his gritted teeth, his wrist pumping the purple toy in an out of you, the vibrations filling your whole body.

“John, please!”

“Mmm, better” he drawled, moving closer to you. When he was in hand reach you gently wrapped your fingers around his cock. John groaned, his head falling back as you gave him few pumps, “I know how desperate you’re for my cock…”

His length was swollen, his tip a faint reddish-purple and you mumbled something incoherent about how much bigger he was as he discarded his remaining clothing. Sinking towards you, you crawled back across the bed to make room for him. Looked like John decided that he was done with teasing you for a while, the need to be inside your heat making his throat dry.

Pushing you down and pulling your hips up, he sunk into you at last and you gasped and groaned, your eyes rolling back, your hands clutching him so tightly. It wasn’t a surprise that he filled you so much better than the toy had. His weight on top of you, the way he was angled so perfectly, so deeply was everything you needed right now.

“Thaaat’s what you needed…” he drawled thickly, exhausted from waiting. “Only I can do that right, yes?”

The burning friction as he pushed inside you, his cock stretching you so good, more than the toy ever could’ve, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes, they fell closed automatically but snapped right back open when John delivered a hard thrust, burying himself deep inside you.

"Eyes on me, little girl” he drawled, “I asked you a question!”

You whimpered, struggling to look back at him, gasping when his hands came down on your breasts, groping them, squeezing, his skillful fingers pinching and twisting your nipples, “Y-Yes…” you whimpered again, “O-Only you can do that John…”

He grunted in response, pulling and twisting on your nipples, enjoying how quickly they reacted to him, hard. He leaned closer, your bodies pressed together firmly, pressing his lips to yours, moving them for the first time, his kisses hungrily, possessive and controlling, and you melted into the mattress. He bit your lip hard, his dominance well visible.

“That little thing can’t touch you like I can…”

He had you so good, so satisfied, so full, but still wanting more. You were truly trapped under his grip and breathless but you angled your hips desperately, grinding into him as much as you could. You could hear just how much he was enjoying it, his vocality spilling out constantly.

“Look how desperate you are, how pathetic… trying to fuck yourself on me. I know how only my cock can satisfy you.”

He fucked you hard, his palms pressed into the bed above your head, no regard for how sore or sensitive you were already and then he spat a determined, “Apologize, little girl” he punctuated each word with a bruising thrust, his round eyes so dark now it almost scared you.

“I-I’m sorry” you cried, not even questioning him now. You wanted him badly, and you were going to do whatever it took.

“Again,“ he rasped. "I didn’t hear you, little girl… Try harder…” his hips picked up the pace as he drove harder and harder inside you, his deep voice shaking as he panted.

“I’m sorry, babyyy…” you whimpered, trying to meet his thrusts, the sensation slowly but surely overwhelming you. You were so close.

“Only I can fuck you like that,” he groaned, his hands moving down to your hips to hold your body in place.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry, John, only your cock does it for me, you’re right, even when I fuck myself when you’re not there it’s not the same…”

“That right, little girl” he announced, “you made a fucking mess…” he was relentless in the way he spoke, filthier than you’d ever heard him tonight, so focused on taking you there again, desperate to prove a point both of you had long forgotten, “Am I fucking you that good? Is that what you wanted, little girl? I can feel how your cunt got much wetter when I filled you… I can feel how you’re squeezing around me…” you shook violently, so close to giving in for what you were sure would be the last time.

“This thing… is fucking pathetic… something almost dry fucks you better than I do?” he drawled ridiculously, gesturing to the infamous toy beside you.

“N-No…” you whined, tears forming in your eyes, the heat between your legs becoming too much as your hips collided over and over again.

“No?” he groaned.

“N-No, it’s not better than you- ohhhh…”

John chose that moment to deliver a particularly hard thrust, nudging right into that spot that had stayed unattended to before and he sent you spiraling, your body shaking, your chest heavily rising and falling, a string of profanities rolling of your tongue, blending together with praises of his name as your walls squeezing around his throbbing cock, the burning stretch forcing your eyes shut as the pleasure washed over you.

He drew out of you quickly as you came down, one hand stroking your knee almost comfortingly and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his mind whirring. You could tell he was struggling just from how much he was shaking, how heavily he was breathing and he held the base of his cock for a moment to keep himself from spilling over at the sight of you dripping down your legs filthily.

He took a deep breath then spoke again, deeper, much more focused, “Turn around, you filthy slut. Gonna take you the way you should be taken…”

“I thought we said three,” you mumbled, dazed. You felt like you were gonna cry from the intensity of his glare back. You didn’t move. He cocked his head, blinked couple of times, stretched his jaw. And then, his patience already tested enough, he pulled you up, spun you round, held you against his chest.

“You said three… not me” he drawled, before pushing you back onto the bed, in position to take him again.

You whimpered, his words firm, decisive, there was no way you could argue with him now. Not that you wanted to, the way the tip of his cock brushed up against your entrance, poking inside just slightly, teasing you, enjoying those whimpers and helpless moans falling from your mouth. He lived for your reaction, seeing you writhing beneath him.

“J-John, I … I don’t know if I can…”

“You can and you fucking will, slut…” he drawled, his hands gripping onto your hips possessively, holding you in place, “You think that I will let you cum twice on that stupid thing and only once on my cock? I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, you little slut” he shoved you into the mattress and a strangled moan fell from your lips as he used that moment to bury himself inside you again, one swift thrust and he filled you up again, your still sensitive walls fluttering instantly around him, hungry for him, for the friction his throbbing cock created inside you, taking full control of your body.

You wanted to remind him that you’d never claimed anything was better than him, especially your little toy and he echoed that fact in the way he dipped in and out of you over and over, deeper each time. You were thankful he found it in him to use his anger on you like this nonetheless. You fell into a daze, your mind fogging over as he pulled your hips back onto him each time, his grunts filling the gap between your moans.

“Apologize,” he grunted, reaching forward to grip your shoulder for extra leverage. His fingers dug into your collarbone as he grunted his second word to snap you out of your silence, “again.”

“I’m sorry John…”

“Again,” he breathed, unsatisfied.

“Haven’t I said sorry enough?” you mumbled, exhausted.

You heard him hiss, his movements slowing for a brief moment, then he drove himself deep inside you again.

“Have I fucked you enough?” he spat out and you could hear in the way he posed the question how he was trying to stay calm, how his his voice went even deeper and he pulled back, his grip on your hip tightening and he pushed inside you hard, making you gasp and lurch forward, “Or do you prefer that toy?”

“John!”

“Did I stutter, princess?” he asked, his voice calm, but with the edge of a threat, danger coiling under the surface, “I can stop right now if that’s what you want…”

“No!” you whined, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle it, your body physically aching for him, already fearing that he would leave you like this, desperate and shaking for him, “No, please…” you cried, your heart skipping a beat and you backed up on him weakly, ready to do anything for him to keep fucking you hard like this. You knew you’d be bruised tomorrow, you were bruised already, your legs weak, your walls sore.

“Just say the word and I’ll leave you dripping, your cunt empty, clenching around nothing…”

“No, please!” you begged him, you were aware of how pathetic your pleads for him were now, but it would be too much for you if he stopped now, his words having you tense and desperate.

“Apologize!” he growled, his hand coming down harshly on your ass, colliding with your skin. You lurched forward again, screaming into the pillow.

Your mind was clouded with lust, the stinging feeling of your now reddening skin had you reeling, aching for more and you knew he could probably feel you getting wetter, silently begging him to spank you again.

“Don’t need me then?” He taunted you, “You have that instead, I know…”

You let out another strangled moan as he buried himself deep inside you, brushing into just the right spot, holding himself there. “N-No…” you cried, forcing yourself to speak, not wanting this feeling to end. “I do need you, John, I need you so bad, that thing is nothing compared to you…”

You hoped for him to take pity on you now, but he had no mercy, slowing his movements, having grown aware of how much he was giving you, now purposely not pushing himself all the way inside you.

“One last chance, love. Apologize!” another slap on your ass, this time on the other cheek and you whined, knowing you wouldn’t be able to take much more.

“I’m sorry, John, I’m so sorry, baby … it’s o-only you…”

“Thaaa’s it…” he drawled, dragging his hand slowly down your back.

“J-John, please fuck me harder” you whined, desperate for him to hit that spot again, “Are you jealous John?” you giggled breathlessly as he fucked you into the mattress, almost too quietly for him to hear you. But he did.

“Don’t you fucking dare, slut” he groaned, his hips slowing suddenly, his hand slamming against the sensitive skin of your ass again, his lips twitching violently as he watched you writhe, “Don’t you fucking dare to talk to me like that again or I’ll walk out of here and leave you here, alone, a fucking mess on the bed and your cunt soaked and empty…”

Letting out a sharp breath, he smacked you once more, branding you as his and pulled out before you could even finish screaming. You knew if you tested his patience too much that it’d go something like this - but you hadn’t realised he still had the strength to pull out of you.

“You don’t deserve it, slut” he drawled, watching you heave breathlessly, an embarrassed, swollen mess for him on the mattress.

You turned around and it took all your strength as you looked back at him with wide eyes, desperate, regretting everything you’d said talking back to him. You’d underestimated him, and it wasn’t the first time you’d made that mistake either.

“Please come back…” you whined, his prediction very much coming true instantly, you were almost sobbing, so insanely wet for him, your juices running down your thighs, “I need you…”

“You can’t listen… you won’t fucking listen…”

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded, “I’m so sorry, don’t leave please…”

John’s lips parted, as if he were considering what to do with you. He ran his fist over his cock a couple of times, coated in your arousal and sighed, the frustration almost too much for him.

“I’ll tell what I’d do now” he grunted, pacing a little as he spoke, “I’m gonna tie you, to the bed, blindfold you, put the toy inside you and leave” he cleared his throat. But you were still  squirming with just his words. You were speechless. You felt so dirty. Your own throat was dry. “And I’d be back after the battery runs out…” you tried to move towards him convince him that you were going to be good, that you were never going to last through the hour long charge, that you wanted him more than he knew, but he stepped back, refusing to let you touch him.

“Please John��� you sobbed, “p-please, I need to let go. I need you” you told him, pathetic, “John no please, please don’t….“ you cried, stumbling towards him on the bed, your legs shaking, your hands shaking, your core shaking.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, the corner of his lip twitching. You knew he wanted you, you knew he was desperate to get you there again, to fuck you so hard you’d remember it for days but he kept his self-control, eyeing your body up and down, your skin flushed, from where he’d been.

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a small smile, your heart skipping a beat of relief when he stepped closer to you again, closer to the edge of the bed where you sat, weak, desperate for him.

“You want my cock?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, licking your lips.

He chuckled a little, “Fucking suck it, then” he gave in, “suck it before I change my mind.”

You wasted no time in moving closer to him, dropping back down onto all fours so that you could bring your lips close to his head, so big, so swollen and taste him, taste yourself. Your hands squeezed his delicious ass to bring him closer. He was hot and thick and felt heavy on your tongue and you squirmed as he stepped forward into you, the heat of your mouth so inviting. You flattened you tongue to make room for him, hollowed your cheeks and he groaned, unable to find words after so long. He moved his hands so that one was cupping your throat, his thumb pushing into the soft, sensitive skin under your chin, the lightest amount of pressure to tilt your gaze up at him. His other hand was on the top of your head and he purred in pleasure as he stroked your hair, his fingers tangled in the knots, his eyelids so heavy and full of lust.

He stared you down, the intensity of his eyes sending shivers down your spine, the sensation going straight to your core. You were empty, so wet for him, closing your lips around him to start suck him eagerly, desperate to prove to him that you were going to be good for him, that you deserved him, hoping he would give in and fuck you again as you purred on his cock, the tender way he stroked your hair a sharp contrast to his hips starting to rock and push inside you slowly.

John stopped you, taking a small step back, moving his hand to give himself a few more slow pumps.

“What if I just cum on your face, how you’d like that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

You sneaked your hand between your legs, massaging your clit with your fingers, but he quickly smacked it away.

“Don’t touch your cunt… you’re such a dirty little slut, can’t hold it now.”

[blondecarfucker]

Bed of Roses (Chapter 19)

Roger Taylor x Reader

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

(god i hope i didnt already use this gif in another chapter)

Fic Summary: It's 1971. You just moved to London to study, and you find a band on a local pub after a bad date. The encounter doesn’t go the way you expect it, and neither does what follows this evening as you try to deal with loving Roger Taylor.

Fic Note: So I’ve had this story in my head for the last three weeks and finally decided to write it down. It’s completely planned. It will have 21 chapters and it’s divided in three acts: Dusk, Night and Dawn. It’s will be a bit angsty in the future, and it will most likely have some smut as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! Tell me what you think about it in the asks/comments/messages. PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE STORY. If this is your first time stumbling upon Bed of Roses, thank you for stopping by! The rest of the story is in my masterlist, the link is in my bio - can't put the link here or else the post will disappear from the tags.

Chapter's notes: HEY GUYS!!! LONG TIME NO SEE, at least compared to my usual posting schedule. but work has been pretty intense these days, so im really sorry for disappearing :( but IM BACK WITH A LONG ASS CHAPTER and theres only TWO MORE CHAPTERS LEFT TO BED OF ROSES. WTF. it's been about a month since i started and i cant thank you all enough for the support. now im gonna stop talking cause you already have a long chapter to read

Words: like more than 5k my bad

Warnings: SMUT!!! HELL YEAH. also theres probably a bunch of errors cause im not revising this chapter in order to post it tonight, so my bad!!!

ACT 3 - DAWN

"It's the moment night time seems weaker and everything seems easier to figure out"

Chapter 19

"I guess", you answer, without much thought, and you start laughing as you both get up and move to the seats in front of you, so you can be as close as possible, nothing between the two of you. "This is so surreal. I'm having a hard time believing you're really here", you tell him, and his eyes go wide as he answers "Tell me about it", and takes another sip of his beer.

"I come inside this bar, a bit nostalgic because I've moved into a new place, and they're playing fucking Fleetwood Mac of all fucking things", he says, and you laugh at the way he says the name's band, so sarcastic, so ironically annoyed; you didn't know you missed it so much.

"And I think, well, that's a huge fucking coincidence, so I get to the bar and here you are. In that dress, too! I'm actually thinking they dropped something in my drink and I'm talking to an empty chair as I'm having a weird acid trip", he completes, and you're laughing non-stop, his smile widening at your response.

"Maybe they really did drop something in my drink, cause it must be an acid trip, it's too good to be true. Why are you here?" you ask, and he looks confused.

"I live nearby! I still live here, you know. You're the one who moved out. My acid trip theory makes way more sense", he tells you, and his smile gets even wider at your response; you're laughing again.

"You're right", you tell him, and you take a sip of your own drink.

"See!! You're saying I'm right right away! This must be an acid trip. Now tell me, hallucination of Y/N: why are you in London?", he asks, and you give him half a smile, shy.

"I got a job offer at the British Museum. Sorry I didn't tell-", you start apologizing, but you're interrupted by him as he pulls you into a hug. "I'm so happy for you!! You deserve it, more than anyone else", he tells you, letting you go of his arms, but you need to catch a breath before you can say anything else.

Roger's smell of patchouli and cigarettes fills your lungs, and you feel like you're melting on your chair.

You suddenly remember why you were horny most of the time around him.

His fucking smell.

And that was not just it - his jaw was more defined, his hair was shorter and bleached, and you had to stop yourself from running your fingers through them; it was even harder now that he broke the invisible barrier of touch between the two of you, the hug proving to you both that the other one was really there.

You noticed that he was looking at your details in close up, too - your lips, your eyes.

"Thanks, Rog", you answer, and you notice how much you missed saying his nickname to him, his reaction to it - his expression softens as soon as he hears it.

"When did you get here? Why didn't you call me?", he asks, and you give him a half smile. "Less than 24 hours ago. I wanted to call you - I called as soon as I got the job offer. It felt right that you should be the first to know, after everything, you know", you said, and he nodded lightly.

"But you never picked up", you said, and he sighed. "I moved out of our flat a couple months ago", he says. "Yeah, I thought so. But how's everything? How are the boys? The music? Why is your hair so short and bleached? Not that I don't love it, of course", you wink, back at your ironic flirting competition without a second thought.

"It's not that shorter", he says, holding a strand between his fingers and analysing it for a second. "I just thought I'd look better if I was even more blonde. Didn't really think much about it. The boys are doing good - we still fight all the time. But I'm very proud of our new album, don't know if you've heard of it", he said, and you scoffed.

"What do you mean? I've been a Queen fan all along. I bought A Day At The Races and everything. And all I've been hearing in the radios ever since I stepped foot in the UK again is We Are The Champions and We Will Rock You. They're both genius, by the way", you tell him, and he leans closer to you, cupping his own cheek as he puts his elbow on the bar counter.

"I didn't knew you kept paying attention. I always imagined you trying to forget us, trying to pretend we never existed", he said, and you didn't knew if his "we" meant the band or the two of you. Maybe both.

"I tried to avoid it, in the beginning. It was hard for me, and it was even harder cause I knew it all happened because of my choices", you tell him, and he frowns. "Hey, it was my fault, too", he says.

"You did take part in it. But it wasn't all you - it was mostly me, actually. I was unhappy with situations I had little control over, so I accidentally sabotaged our relationship, just to see if I still had control over something", you tell him. "I didn't notice it at the time, but I didn't love myself anymore. You can only give what you have. I couldn't love you properly and treat you right cause I didn't even do that to myself at the time", you complete, and his hand touches yours, intertwining your fingers together.

It didn't feel sexual, but it did felt intimate. He wanted to let you know he was there for you.

"Do you treat yourself properly, now?", he asks, concerned, and you nod. "Yeah. Maybe that's why destiny was nice to us today, bringing us here", you say, pointing your finger around to show your environment. "Cause maybe we can be good to each other now", you completed, and he gave you a half smile.

"I want to be nice with you. I wasn't as much as I could. I was always absent, I barely noticed how much you changed. And once I did, I didn't try to help as much as I just missed the old you. Our ending is on me, too", he says, and you can't help but smile at the situation, how unreal it feels.

"Can we take a walk, Rog? I can't really believe this is all happening. I need fresh air", you tell him, and he laughs ever so slightly. "Sure. You and your walks", he says, and you laugh.

You start walking to a park nearby. The wind is making you shiver, so Roger stops and takes his blazer off to put it on your shoulders, and you open your mouth to protest, about to say he doesn't have to do that, as you did many, many times before. "I know I don't have to, Y/N", he says, "but I want to".

He takes your hand into yours as soon as you start walking again. You smile as you realize it's almost as if you've never left, but it's also way better than it was before you left.

You don't regret leaving. If you didn't leave, you wouldn't be having this moment with Rog.

"So you did buy A Day At The Races...", he starts, swinging your arms in an almost childish manner. "Yeah...", you answer, and he turns his face so he can look at you. "Is my song still your favourite from the album?", he asks, and you laugh.

"Of course, Rog. Drowse is actually my favourite song of yours, even though I'm In Love With My Car will always hold a special place in my heart", you answered, and he laughed.

"So full of yourself, Y/N, just because you helped me record engine sounds", he told you, ironically, and you scoffed. "Hey, it's my favourite cause it reminds me of what we did after we recorded stupid engine sounds", you told him, and he smirked.

"I'm not sure if I remember that. Maybe you'll have to remind me", he said, winking, and you laughed.

You arrived at the park, and Roger sat on a bench as you sat on the grass. He looked at you, confused.

"C'mon, Rog. This way we can watch the stars", you told him, and he scoffed as he sat by your side.

"Sure, Brian", he told you, and you hit his shoulder playfully. "I miss the boys, too. Heard John had a baby", you told him, and he nodded. "Yeah, it's a beautiful kid. Reminded the rest of us how bad we are at relationships and families", he said, and it was your turn to laugh.

"It's okay. We all are. Deacy and Veronica are the exception", you told him, laying down. You took his hand into yours as he laid by your side.

"What are you up to, Y/N? I guess you still like fucking Fleetwood Mac", he said, jokingly. "Yeah, I went to their Madison Square Garden concert before coming here", you tell him, and he laughs. "Of course you did. What else?". "The Runaways", and you can see in your peripheral vision as he nods. "They're good", and you turn to the side, so you can watch him.

"Already back at analyzing my music taste, Taylor?", you ask, and he laughs, turning to the side so he can face you. "Well, it's been a while ever since I had the chance to do it. I need to make up for the lost time", he answers, and you shake your head.

"You're an asshole", you tell him, jokingly. "But yeah, I really like some of their stuff, like Cherry Bomb and You Drive Me Wild. There's also Blondie, who'll always have my heart, Debbie being a fellow new yorker, even though she's a new yorker by choice", you start telling him, but you stop once you notice he blushed.

"Roger Taylor, why are you blushing?", you ask, and it clicks once he scratched his head and looked away. "Well...", he started, but then went quiet. You didn't need him to say anything else. "Oh my God. You had an affair with her, didn't you?", and the look in his eyes answers for him.

"I can't believe it, you lucky bastard!", you tell him, and he frowns. "What, you're not jealous?" he asks, and you scoff. "Of course not. I couldn't expect you to stay pure and chaste after we broke up. You had no obligation to be, nor you were ever pure or chaste to begin with", you say, and he laughs. "Also, I'd try to have an affair with Debbie, if I ever had the chance, too. So I understand you", you tell him, and he smirks. "That would be hot", he says, and you slap his chest.

"Such a cliche fetish, Taylor. I expect better from you", you tell him, and he laughs again. "Sorry to disappoint you", he says.

And you stay there, laying in the grass with Roger by your side as you update each other in your lives - he tells you all about Freddie and Mary, and Brian and Chrissie. It seemed as if everyone from the old days but Veronica went away. And he asked you about your work, and New York, and if you still lived on the Upper East - he smiled once you told him you've moved out. He told you about the time he went to the Met last year, hoping to get to see you, and you were shocked when you realized you actually did see him outside as you went out to get lunch, but you couldn't believe it was him, since you were used to seeing him everywhere, knowing it wasn't really him. You were happy once he told you he liked to go to museums now. And once the birds start tweeting around you, and the sky becomes a lighter shade of blue, nearly lilac, you realize you've been talking for hours.

You've never felt so exposed to someone - he knew about your worst side, the saddest moments of your life, the most pathetic choices you've made - ones that hurt him - yet he was still there, laughing with you, interested in every word you said, caressing your arm over his blazer. You felt like you could be completely honest with him - he'd understand.

"Do you want to go?", Roger asks as he takes a strand of your hair and puts it behind your ear.

You look down to his lips, feeling the warmth coming from his body, his hands so close to your lips, your cheeks. You want to feel him against you again, and you think he'll be fine with that.

"Not really. Not now. Do you know what I really want, at the moment?", you ask, and he nods a "no".

"I want you to kiss me", you whisper, and he gives you a coy little smirk as he looks to your lips. "I can do that", he says, leaning in to kiss you.

And the feeling of his lips against yours, light and airy, made something inside you wake up - something you didn't notice was gone for long, but now that it's here again, you can't believe how long it's been ever since it was present. An extraordinary feeling.

You didn't feel complete - you felt complete alone, with yourself. Roger made you more than complete - he made you pour over your edges. He was like the sun - everything with him was brighter, better, more alive, more intense. He gave things the right perspective - not a new perspective, the right perspective. Everything was just better.

Especially you.

-

After a few moments kissing lightly, still getting used to each other's lips again, Roger kisses your cheek and whispers, his breath leaving goosebumps on your skin. "Do you know what I want?", he asks, his forehead against yours, and you nod lightly. "I want to go home with you", he tells you, and you smirk.

"I can do that", you retort, and he laughs a little as he gets up, offering you a hand. "Mademoiselle", he says, with an affected accent, and you take his hand.

You stroll along the sidewalk, still holding hands, as Roger looks for a passing cab. You just watch, and the sunlight makes his features look more real - he looked too much like an angel, a hallucination, when you were talking at night. Now he was here, a real person, by your side, looking for a cab so he could take you home - so casual, such a thing normal people do, you were sure you couldn't hallucinate with that. When you daydreamed of Roger, even before you started dating him, it was never this type of casual stuff. Now you understand that these simple moments together are what really makes you care about him so much.

-

He turns the key to open the door to his new place, but before he pushes it open, he turns to you.

"It's a bit empty… Not every new piece of furniture is here already", he tells you, and you nod. "I get it. My flat is mostly boxes, at the moment".

He pushes the door open and the first thing you feel is the sunrise on your eyes, the sun warming up your skin.

You take off his blazer as you get inside, and you can feel his eyes on you as your eyes adjust to the light. You put the blazer on a chair as you walk closer to the other side of the living room, where the entire wall was glass, giving you a perfect view of River Thames and its bridges, looking magical as the sun glimpsed from the horizon.

"This is amazing, Rog", you tell him, and he says "Yeah, it's a pretty nice view" from behind you, checking you out. You walk to him and playfully hit him. "Back at your old ways, I see", you say, and he smirks.

"Only if you let me" he says, and you laugh. You wonder if it's not weird that you're both barely questioning if you should do this - go back to each other's arms so quickly - but you shake the thought out of your mind. You sabotaged this relationship enough, you hurted Roger and yourself enough. Now you decide to just deal with things as they come - if right now, the two of you are interested in being together again, even if it's just now, so you will be.

"I will", you answer him, and a smile appears on his lips as your hands move to his hair, your attention now focused on how it will feel on your hands.

But then the phone rings.

"Oh, for fuck's sake", Roger complains, and you're divided between being annoyed and laughing at his response. "I'll be back in a minute", he says, turning around and walking to the phone.

He answers the phone, his voice visibly annoyed firing quick responses to whoever was on the other side of the line. "I know. I'll be there. Now you said I had the week off, so pretend I don't exist until it's over", he says, and then turns it off.

You're still where you were when he went to pick up the phone, but it felt a bit weird to just go back to it - the phone call ruined the mood.

Roger knew that. So he just smiled and shrugged, saying "I can't even have a week off without the label calling me this hour in the morning", and you give him a half smile. Instead of walking straight towards you, he stops by the record player, looking for something in the boxes on its side, until he finds what he's looking for.

You recognize what's playing, and it's something you wouldn't expect from Roger. It was Bob Marley and The Wailers new album, Exodus - Turn Your Lights Down Low, to be more specific.

You chuckled as he walked closer to you. "Didn't knew you liked reggae, Mr Taylor", you told him, and he laughed. "Are you judging my music taste, Y/N? I thought you were better than this", and he offered you a hand, taking you into his arms so you could sway your bodies to the rhythm of the song. "Also, it's a pretty appropriate song, if you pay attention to the lyrics", he said, and you did so as he started to whisper them on your ear, giving you goosebumps.

"I kept this message for you, girl

But it seems I was never on time

Still I wanna get through to you, girlie

On time, on time

I want to give you some love, good, good lovin'"

His lips went down to your neck, but you wanted to kiss him after hearing those words coming out of his mouth in his husky voice, so you entangled your fingers on his hair and pulled his lips into yours.

This kiss was more rough, it wasn't romantic as the last one in the park. This one was needy - you tried telling him how much you missed him on it, and so did he. You felt his shoulders under your hands as his hands went straight to your bum.

You chuckled against his lips as he pressed you to the wall, but once you felt cold glass against your back, you pushed him back, slightly. He looked confused.

"Don't want to test how much your window can take or flash your new neighbours, do we?", you ask, and he smiles. "If it's with you, I wouldn't mind, really", Roger tells you, but he guides you to his room anyway.

"The bed is not here yet, but the mattress already is", he says, and you nod. "Guess I really won't have an option but flashing your neighbours", you point to the window. "Hey, it's a pretty tall building. No other building around us is tall enough to really see what's happening here. Just the sun, the birds and the Thames", he says, grabbing you by your waist back into a kiss.

This one's a bit slower, more in sync with the music coming from the living room. You start to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off his arms. You break the kiss so you can look at him, his torso more defined than before. "I missed you", you tell him, kissing him again, and his eyes flicker to your chest for a moment before he mumbles an I missed you too against your lips.

You moaned when the feeling of his tongue massaging yours was combined with his thumbs brushing against your nipples over the dress. He groaned in response, and one of your hands that were on his neck went to cup his jaw, and you could feel the stubble under your fingers.

He moves his kisses to you neck as you recover your breath, playing with your earlobe as your breathing hitched. He pressed his nose against your skin. "You smell so good. I couldn't remember it, sometimes", he told you, and you smirked. "Did you think about me a lot?", you ask, and he moves away from your neck so he could look into your eyes. "When I was alone, you were usually the one I'd think about", he said, and you blushed.

This seemed to turn him on even more, as he unzipped the back of your dress and pulled it down, the chiffon making a ruffling sound as it hit the floor. Roger kicked his shoes and socks away as he kissed your cleavage, his lips leaving a fiery trace wherever they touched your skin. "God, you're so sexy", he said, pulling you closer by the hip as one of his hands slipped your bra strap off your shoulder, pulling the lace off from one of them as he cupped it.

You move your head back as you moan when his thumb repeats the movement on your nipple, but this time with no fabric between them. He moves his hands to your back and unclasps your bra, sliding the other strap off your shoulders and throwing the bra to the side.

He gets on his knees as he moves his wet kisses down to your stomach, and then closer to your underwear, and you get ready for him to take it off, but he doesn't, moving his hands to your ankles and moving them to the side, which makes you open your legs a bit wider. You hold onto his hair, a smirk on his lips as you do so, and he starts kissing the inner part of your things, and you groan, annoyed that he's teasing you.

But he's actually helping you take your shoes off, and you smile as you realize that. Once you kick your scarpins away, he strokes the sides of your legs until he reaches the elastic band of your lace underwear. He pulls it down slowly, moving his kisses to your lower stomach as they fall off and you kick them away.

You make an annoyed sound when he breaks away from you to take you to his "bed", the mattress on the ground. You lean into the pillows as he's on top of you again, and your annoyed to feel the fabric of his trousers against you. "You're wearing too many clothes", you complain, and he smirks. "Just a minute, okay, babe?", he says, and you can't hold a genuine smile at the sound of your old nickname.

He notices that, pinching your cheeks ironically before going back to kissing you. He doesn't take long before nibbling your lower lip and then moving his kisses back to your breasts, stimulating one with his thumb on one of your nipples while kissing the other. You can't help but moan.

Roger then slides the hand from your breasts to your sides, moving it down to your core, stroking you. You groan, and you groan again even louder as he starts massaging your clit. "You're so wet, already", he says, and you smirk at him, almost challenging him. What are you going to do about it? you seem to ask, raising your brow.

And he breaks contact with him, making your eyes narrow as you frown, only for them to get wide as his big, callous hands separate your thighs and his lips take the place where his fingers were moments before.

"Fuck, Roger", you moan, his tongue massaging your clit as he slides two fingers inside you. "God, Rog", you say, as he continues his movements. You're pulling at his hair to keep him where he was.

After a few minutes, you pull harder at his hair, and he starts to pump his fingers faster on you. He moans against you as you keep saying his name, and the buzz from it makes you vibrate. That's enough to send you over the edge, and he breaks away from you after your first orgasm that morning.

He licks his lips as he wraps his arms around you, still shaking from your orgasm. "You taste so good, Y/N. I also missed the way you scream my name, even though it's early in the morning. I'm happy to wake my neighbours up to this", he says, but you recovered your breath, and you want to do something you missed, too. So you turn him over so you can now be on top of him, and you kiss him, very roughly, grinding against him and feeling him hard under you.

"Told you you're wearing too many clothes", you said as he groaned. You kept riding him with his pants still on, just to tease him, as you left love marks on his skin. You missed it.

But you wanted to feel him against your tongue again, so you got off his lap and unzipped his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear as he sucked a breath. You felt like you teased him enough, but as you positioned yourself, you stroked him a few times, earning more moans from him, but nothing compared to the way he said your name as you moved your lips down on him, pressing a kiss to the tip before taking him completely into your mouth.

You loved the feeling of control having him inside your mouth always gave you, his taste on your tongue as he tugged on your hair to help you find a rhythm. You watched as one of his hands let go of you to tug on the bedlinen by the side of your head.

It was only a few minutes after you started when he pulled you away and onto his lips again. "I was about to come. I want to shag you properly before I can come, babe", he said, giving you a quick peck before turning you over so he's on top of you now.

"Sure, Rog", you say, giving him a peck back. "Can you go slow? It's been a while, at least for me. A few months", you shrug, and he gives you a soft smile.

"So guys in New York weren't that interesting, then?", he asks, and you smile. "Not that much. Nothing remarkable, really. And plain nothing ever since I found out I'd be moving here again", you told him, and he smiled. "I'll make your wait worth it", he said, and you smile. "You already did. This is gonna be a bonus", you told him.

You wrapped your legs around him, giving him free access to you while pulling him closer, and you moan at the same time once he starts to get inside you slowly, bottoming out and staying there for a few seconds.

"God, Y/N", he says, and the way he says your name drives you crazy - his beautiful voice almost sang it to your ears. He started moving slowly, so you could adapt to his size again, and soon he picked up a faster pace, closing his eyes when he cursed, looking down to watch your breasts bounce at his movements, leaving marks on your butt cheeks as he gripped on them.

It wasn't long before you had your second orgasm with him, crying out his name, which only made his movements faster - he was close again.

You watched his muscles popping under his skin as he thrusted, and you wanted to make him hit his high as soon as possible, since he did it for you twice today. "Fuck, Rog, you feel so good", you told him, and you could see the veins in his neck popping, his jaw clenching. "Come for me, Roger", you said, and he pushed into you once more, collapsing over your body later. You ran your fingers through his hair as he recovered his breath, feeling a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies.

"God, I've missed you", he told you, pressing a kiss to the curve of your neck.

-

You woke up, the afternoon light blinding you for a few seconds. But even once your eyes adjusted to it, you were confused about your surroundings.

Then you remember everything - Roger.

You're in his new place, and even though he's not in bed with you, you can still feel him around you - his smell, the feeling of him inside you.

You get up and pick his button up off the ground, almost second nature - you used to do it all the time. Once you get out, Roger is paying a delivery guy only in his boxers.

"Y/N! You're awake!" he smiles, shaking the delivery guy's hand a goodbye and closing the door, and you smile back at him. "Yeah, it's been a pretty long night", you told him, and he left the paper bag with the delivery on top of the table before pulling you into a hug, pressing a kiss on top of your head. "Love these long nights that turn into quite long mornings. It's 2pm, so good afternoon, sunshine, and I got us lunch", he told you, leading you to the table.

"Great, I'm starving", you told him, and he got sushi trays out of the bag. "Nice choice. Didn't think your taste for sushi would continue for so long", you told him, already eating.

"Didn't ever think I'd share sushi again with you", he shrugged, and you smiled. "Y/N, where are we?", he asked, and you frowned.

"I have no idea. I tried not to overthink us for the last few hours, but you're right. Maybe we should talk about this", you said, pointing your finger to the both of you.

"I love you, still", he said, simply, and you smiled. "I love you too, Rog. I never stopped loving you - we just needed time so we could figure our lives, maybe?", you asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, but I'm afraid to rush things now and ruin everything. But I also don't want this fear to stop me from being with you, if I want to", he said, and you agreed.

"Maybe we should just do the stuff we want to, no strings attached, no names given for what we are. We'll just go with it, at least for now", you said, and he agreed.

"Yeah, about that. I have the next week off before I need to go promote News Of The World, and it will be a month before I'm back here in London again. Then we have the launch party and three weeks of rehearsing before tour", he told you, and you knew he wanted to compare schedules, know how long you might have together. It happened before, many times.

"I only start working next Monday", you said. It was a Sunday, almost eight full days before you had to work.

"So we have a free week. I thought about what you just said now, and I have an idea", he said, a devilish smirk on his lips, the one you knew so well, and you raised a brow. "Enlighten me, then", you told him.

"You just talked about doing the stuff we want to, just going with it, stuff like that, right? So, at the moment, I just really want to take you to Paris and spend the week with you there", he told you, and you choked on your food.

He laughed as he helped you drink some sake to get the food down. "So, do you want to go?", he asked, and you thought about it, still red from the incident.

Your natural instinct was to say no - you had to unpack your stuff, and adapt or whatever, before work. But his question - do you want to go instead of can you go - made you reconsider.

You wanted to go, so you nodded. "Sure", you said, and then laughed. Life took the most unexpected turns with you, sometimes.

"Really? Great!! I can drive you to your new place so you can pack before we go to the train station and just hop on the next train to Paris", he said, excited, pulling you in for another hug, and then moving his hands to cup your face. "I just thought it could be fun if we went some country none of us really know and discover it together. Also, it's pretty romantic, so lots of opportunities to get you turned on", he winked, and you laughed.

As you felt his fingers brush against your cheeks, you remembered something you wanted to ask, and took one of his hands into your own so you could look at it. "Rog, your hands have always been pretty callous because of the drumsticks, but now the fingertips are, too. Why?" you asked, and he shrugged. "I've been playing the guitar a lot, recently", he said, and you opened your mouth in shock.

"No way! I need to see it", you told him, and he smiled. "Sure. Right after I take a shower, I'll take you to meet my Fender. Then you can help me pack before we go to your place", he told you, pressing a kiss on your lips. "Thank you. Really, thank you", he said, and you smiled. "Thank you, Rog. I was scared you'd hate me, sometimes. Now go take that shower before I join you and we never get on a train to Paris", you told him, turning him around and slapping his ass, playfully.

As you heard the shower and Roger's singing as he showered, you walked to the window, taking in the view.

You were back in London, and back with Roger.

And you couldn't be happier.

---

Chapter 20

Masterlist

Taglist:

@taylorroger-s @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @its-nessi @anamcg317 @frenchieswiftie @queen-danielle-dani-dan @minihemo @shutup-sorry @theyrealllegends @killerqueenisthebest @ashagracelove @hardy-s @fuckinghurricanesoul @secretsweetscollectionblog @mrswinterhater @11mb0 @tamtam-go92 @derptatosaur @brianandthemays @phantom-fangirl-stuff @the-hysterical-queen @rogerofmylife @notevenlxvely @discodeakyy @x1975sos @16wiishes @jennycidesstuff @partydulce @melros-e @onevisionliz

[cerulean8looded]

25!!!!!!!!

okay that one i literally made bc i look like john, love just dance, and want to be loved but here we fuckin go

25. John being a just dance twitch streamer and all the boys being gay for it i mean youtubers au

so im thinking that all of them make WILDLY different content. lets start with the beta kids.

so john has a gaming channel, clearly, and he decides he wants to lose some weight in a fun way that also helps his channel, so he starts the just dance thing. other than that, he mostly plays things like minecraft, five nights at freddys, all your basic bitch stuff, along with a fair few horror games. he really likes minecraft and sims 4 though.

rose has a witchcraft channel. she practices witchcraft and makes videos about spells and sigils and crystals and all the other cool stuff that goes along with that. i dont know much about witchy stuff anymore, its been a while since i was into that stuff, so id have to do a bunch of research for her.

dave has two channels: irony channel and music channel. the ironic one is where he posts anything to do with sbahj, and just generally fucks about, does weird trends and stuff. he never shows his face on his music channel, never shares his name, and it’s all remixes, so no one hears his voice either.

jade has the most chaotic but pure channel. she does anything she feels like doing, from kids show reviews to “Look at this cool pumpkin i grew” to “heres my favourite gun”. she has no theme, and never plans to change this.

Trolls

aradia is similar to jade in chaotic energy, but she tends to stick to stuff like creepy antiques she finds, weird animal bones from the fields she just wanders about in and that kind of odd stuff. she also talks about dark conspiracy theories a bit.

tavros mostly focuses on animals; animal care, animal facts, how to spot animal illnesses, how to deal with hostile but injured animals in the wild, what to do if you see an animal you think might have rabies, all that kinda shit. theres always at least one animal in every video, whether its a ferret in his lap, a cat walking over him, a snake around his neck, a guinea pig on his shoulder, and so on.

sollux does a gaming and tech help channel. he plays any game that people claim is difficult and tends to beat them so fast people think he’s hacking. he slaves over every fnaf game to try to beat the custom night first. as for tech help, hes basically that guy who runs the channel on how to fix discontinued apple products.

i lost my fucking karkat paragraph, im furious. basic recap of what i lost: he does general content like dan howell and phil lester kinda, with a couple staple series, such as his rant series, where his followers give him a topic and he rants about it for about twenty minutes (after editing). he also does livestream versions which can sometimes last for several hours per rant.

nepeta does cosplay videos with whoever she can rope into helping her (usually terezi, vriska, equius, or feferi) plus a lot of fandom videos in general. she usually comes off really lighthearted in her videos, but she also makes a lot of important comments about fandom culture and shipping wars etc. on her second channel she does vlogs, which exposes her absolute gremlin side. these vlogs often feature things such as her climbing up a tree, getting stuck, and screaming until equius saves her.

kanaya does makeup and fashion advice videos, mostly with a vampire theme to them. occasionally she’ll do cosplay makeup too. her favourite videos to do are when her subscribers send in pictures of themselves and their closets, along with some general information on what they wont wear and all that, and she gives them advice on how to spruce up their look a little and declutter their clothes, etc. she likes feeling like shes making a difference to people.

terezi focuses on true crime mostly; cold cases, current cases, sometimes she runs through the process of solved cases. she prefers to do unsolved stuff, since it gives her the ability to talk about her own theories on it, and she does often get it right, but for particularly interesting cases she will do a video anyway. she also does a little bit on mental health and the reasons behind crimes and shit.

vriska is another kinda general youtuber. she does whatever the hell she wants, plus anything anyone says she cant do. she also lets some of nepetas fandom stuff leak into her content. no one really knows how she got so many subscribers. she also has the most merch out of all of them.

equius makes videos on whatever happens to be his current hyperfixation at that moment. hes the most inconsistent. one week hes picking apart the homosexual subtext in certain scenes of jaws, the next hes teaching you how to put together a microwave. he does a lot of lgbtq+ videos too; his most popular video is of him and nepeta and some others at pride and most peoples favourite part is nepeta racing around a small clearing with equius on her back while vriska cackles behind the camera

no one is really sure what gamzee actually does. his videos are all filmed on a phone camera and are never edited. he doesnt have an intro or an outro. sometimes it seems like he forgot to start filming until halfway through whatever he was talking about, but he never repeats the bits the camera missed. theres no theme, no clear goal, no one knows whats happening and theyre pretty sure hes high in every video. one time he posted a video that was over 48 hours of the phone just pointing at a wall, which appeared to be covered in blood just out of sight of the screen (as in you could see the edge of it but not the actual blood) and there appeared to be a hand sitting at the corner of the screen. everyone was fucking terrified for a while, but the next video posted to his account was karkat explaining that hed had a bit of a mental break and thrown a jar of jar at the wall (the “blood”) and that the hand was just a doll. hed taken out his phone to film a vent video, but promptly forgot about it, dropped it, and went to do something else. he finally remembered over two days later, posted it without thinking and called karkat. a few weeks later he started posting again like the whole thing never happened.

eridan’s content mostly focuses on harry potter and magic (which he definitely doesnt believe in because that would be ridiculous), but he makes a lot of environmental PSA videos about littering and pollution and stuff. in his fandom videos he comes across as just really excitable and doesnt seem like he cares about much else, but he really shows off his intelligence in PSA type videos. he also posts a lot of videos of him just talking about whatevers going on in his life, usually whenever he gets a new crush. his most popular video is the one he made right after seeing johns just dance streams for the first time, because he looked like he was about to cry or scream the whole time.

and feferi! her content mostly focuses on social and political issues. she talks out against “canceled”/purity culture a lot and tends to end up involved in discourse for it. shes that person in the middle of the argument whos literally only stating facts and saying that we shouldnt jump to unnecessary conclusions, but somehow ends up being accused of being jack the ripper or some shit for it. she isnt afraid to share her honest opinions and makes sure to remain as polite and level-headed as is humanly possible when responding to others.

i was gonna do the alpha kids and dancestors too and like share some plot and that kinda stuff but this is long as fuck, so we’re gonna stop here for now! feel free to request again for even more info dumping. also i just wanna say that i planned none of that gamzee stuff i had no idea what i was doing when i started that

[thassalia]

Asks for the fanfic author: 18 and 46 if I could

18. Favorite pairing to write

Ever? That’s a tough one. I wrote eighty bazillion words of Farscape fic. So much fic. And I love John Crichton and Aeryn Sun. I love them so much. I love that they were able to negotiate a life together. That we saw them grow together, be unhealthy and healthy together, become better people because of each other’s influence.  And I loved writing that.  Writing the complexity of that pairing made me a better writer.

But there’s something equally glorious about writing Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff because while A relationship of some sort is MCU cannon, it’s complicated and tentative, and there’s also so much...space to play with. So there’s also the fantastic meta conversations around them to have, the worlds and scenes to build, the variations on their relationship, on their stories.  It’s freeing. 

Plus, I love them so, so much.

Plus, plus, and more importantly, writing them with @handypolymath is literally the best.

46. Share a scene from an unfinished fic

This is from the 99% finished camping fic I’m completing for WIP Big Bang. It’s mid-story.

***

Bruce had turned out his reading light once the shuffling began. But it didn’t sound like bears or raccoons, so once he heard the muffled, “Motherfucker,” that signaled Steve tripping over something in the dark, he just waited out the hijinks.

The quiet snick of his own tent unzipping should have been more of a surprise. He lets Natasha get all the way inside before he snags her ankle.

She stays silent, just flicks on her flashlight to shine in his eyes. He shields them with his free hand. 

“Don’t you think it’s a mistake to wake me up in the middle of the night?” His voice is a low rumble, throatier than he’d hoped.  

“You weren’t really asleep.”

Bruce grunts, doesn’t say anything else. She sits on her haunches, leaving him to move his hand or practically fondle her ass. He doesn’t move, waits her out.  It’s the story of the evening. The tent feels close and crowded in the dark, full of the warm scent of her skin. That she’s a few days past a bath just makes her a little muskier. Earthy. The smoke from the fire and the clean scent of dirt and night air are heady perfumes. He’d like to pant with the scent and feel of her, move his hand, slide it up her calf, her thigh.

Fondle her ass on purpose.

He clears his throat instead, and she finally moves the light from his eyes, resting it on the floor of the tent so that they’re mostly in the dark again.  Point, Natasha.

“So, what the hell is happening out there?”

He just catches the edge of her smirk in the ambient light, can hear it in her voice. “Panty raid.”

“Hmm. I don’t know if I want to be involved or just be glad I’m flying solo in here.”

Natasha leans forward so she’s on hands and knees.

“No real panties, I don’t think, unless Stark has wifi wired into his.” She pauses. “I suppose that’s a possibility.”

Bruce hums, all plausible deniability. He’ll never tell.

She crawls closer. “Hill’s on the warpath, determined to find all our little hidden secrets.”

“Oh,” Bruce says.  “Like what?”

“You know. Modern conveniences. Cell phones, radios, tablets, vibrators.” 

“Aren’t those generally battery powered? Plus, I don’t think they transmit...out?” 

Her laugh is low and rich. It goes straight to his dick. Goddammit, he’d made a stand and he wasn’t wrong, but here in the dark where he can’t see her face it feels like a futile gesture.

“Weapons, too.  Hill really wants this to be summer camp, not training camp. Even with all our training.”

As she says this, she pats around next to him and finds the opening of his sleeping bag by feel. She tugs down the zipper, laying her flashlight up by his pillow.

“I’m cold,” she says.  

“I can’t imagine that’s true.”

She reaches forward, unerringly finding his neck, and her fingers are cool enough to send a shiver through him. At least he blames it on the temperature.

“Hill,” he prompts, “Contraband.”

She’s so close now that he could take her by the waist, pull her forward, pull her down.  Her weight would be delicious.

“It’s another game,” she says, “I think.  Cover.  But, I know Maria. She can have multiple agendas.”

 “Cover?”

 “She’s also trying to get away with something.”

 Bruce smiles in the dark. “Are you?”

 The bag lifts away from his body with a rush of cool air.

“Maybe,” she says. “Plus, I’ve got my own contraband that needs hiding.”  She holds up what looks like a roll of quarters.

"Are you planning to do laundry or break someone's jaw?"

"They're bites."

 "Are you asking me to hold for you?"

 "No," she’s clearly lying, but it’s a play.

 He takes them out of her hand delicately. "Am I going to electrocute myself?"

 "Dunno.  How sweaty are you?"

 "I don't want to answer that."

 “You’ll be fine.”

 “Fine,” he says. “But this is a bad idea.”

 “This is a great idea.”

 Then she wriggles into the sleeping bag with him.  He’s wearing sweatpants and an ancient t-shirt, but they don’t help. He can feel the heat of her thighs through the thin material of her leggings. This really is such a terrible idea.  He puts a hand on the back of her neck to help them adjust to the confined space as she squirms.

Heat is pulsing off her neck, and it’s not just the heat generated between them.

“You’re burning up.” He reaches for the flashlight, but she stops him.

“It’s nothing. Sunburn.  It’ll fade by morning.”

He spreads his hand out, fingers grazing her neck, gentle, not wanting to hurt. Trying to soothe. She rolls onto him a little, angling so that the bag accommodates them both, if barely.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s amazing. He’s stymied. This is an epically bad idea. The roll of bites digs into his back and her breasts pressing against his chest, her hand on his waist.  She breathes against him, a soft puff against his mouth and he’s not sure he can stop himself from kissing her.  

She moves a fraction closer, and he angles his head, and the corner of the tent flap lifts open and a nose peeks in.  

“Can I hide in here?”

Barton.

“No,” Natasha says.

 “Yes,” Bruce says, and she pinches his side.

 Clint flashes his light onto Bruce, eyebrow shooting to his forehead. “That looks cozy.”

“I’m cold,” Natasha says.

“Maybe you should come out of there,” he says, “I don’t want to be traumatized.”

“I’m not traumatizing anyone,” she says.

“Untrue, I’m already disturbed.”

“I might be traumatized,” Bruce says. “This sleeping bag isn’t meant for two.”

 “Traitor,” she says. “I should call Hill, tell her about your lamp.”

 But she doesn’t go anywhere, and he moves his hand from her neck to the small of her back, fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt, then finally slipping his fingers underneath to span her skin, canting her hips towards him.

 He’s hardening between them. It doesn’t belie what he’d said earlier, not exactly. Bruce knows he’s the definition of mixed signals right now.  His throat is so tight with desire, with loathing, with the effort of holding tight.

 She’s everything he could want, pressed against him, and that’s the problem. He can’t deny the desire anymore. It’s not just for the luscious flesh, but for the bright, sharp, burning presence inside it.  He can’t afford to give in to her playing, not when he wants something more. Something he really can’t ask for. She owes him nothing, and he owes her so very, very much.

 Nat wiggles again, like she’s testing something and he desperately wishes he could just give in, enjoy this glorious gift she seems to be offering.

 “Do it,” the part of him he most hates taunts. “Give in. Let her use you, and leave you longing for more that she has no intention of giving. Leaving you pathetic and needy.” Bruce turns his head, feels the silk of her hair against his cheek, turns away.  She softens against him, a deliberate signal. Oh god.

 It’s Clint, cross-legged and hunched, who keeps him in check. Not his presence, but the look on his face like if they were just fucking he’d lay back and mostly ignore it.  Instead there’s something almost fraternal on his stoic face, and while Bruce knows the two spies are close, he gets the feeling that look is more for him.

 It shames him.

 Bruce curls his fingers into a fist tight as he can. Natasha stills completely, but it’s an exercise. He releases his fist, finger by finger, breathes through it, relaxes again so that he’s palming her spine.

 “Nat,” Clint says. “I think you’re good, if you wanna go back to your tent.”

“Go away Clint,” she says, then runs her nose along Bruce’s neck and that’s too much. Much too much.  He could have talked this out, but now, he’s too far gone. He needs space.  He tenses, stills, painfully aware that any stiffening on his part will signal something bigger for her. Warnings of his monster. They’ve been training for that very thing, after all.

 His limbs are rigid, fingers flat, no longer caressing her back.

 “Natasha,” he says, warning enough.

 “Oh,” she says, and her tone shifts. The softness disappears as her own limbs tense. Her knee angles, a potential weapon.

 “You need to go,” he says. He hates that Clint is seeing this.

 The lullaby protocols have been primarily between the two of them, bringing in the others only to familiarize them with signals and techniques, to test out situations and threats.  

 Clint is her backup. But he’s Bruce’s too.  And now he’s waiting, reading the tension.

 Spies.

 Fuck.  

 “Sorry,” she says to Bruce, moving off of him in one fluid motion.  He lets his hands fall to his side.  Turns his head.

 He doesn’t say anything, and she crouches at the edge of the tent closure for a moment.

 Clint murmurs her name, but she just slips out of the tent into the cool night air.

[compunctionjunction]

70 horrible questions

I was tagged by the lovely @1of1prism thank u my guy <3

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Maybe better than some people but probably also worse than a lot of people lol. Sometimes I go to people’s houses and I’m like ???what is this “communication”. Also depends on the day and parent. i have an entire tag devoted to my dad lol

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? I dunno probs my mom or one of my friends 

03: Do you regret anything? Lots

04: Are you insecure? "My insecurities have insecurities” tho tbh i’m gettin pretty good. 

05: What is your relationship status? Single and not ready to mingle

06: How do you want to die? in control and ready 2 go

07: What did you last eat? cream of chicken soup... chocolate frozen yogurt... caramel pudding....... I just had my wisdom teeth out.......give me real food......

08: Played any sports? Never, in my life. The audacity.

09: Do you bite your nails? Ahuh! Sometimes!

10: When was your last physical fight? ive never been in a 2-way fight but the most recent 1-sided one was probs in gr 6 when one of my friends (aha) dragged me across the classroom by my hair lol

11: Do you like someone? No :\

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? try 72 hon

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? lol trump (im not changing ur answer sophie cause its accurate lol) also anyone who aligns w him and rn all the conservative MPs for being dicks and a lot more I’m full of hatred rn 

14: Do you miss someone? i miss being able to eat real 

15: Have any pets? my sister has 2 ferrets :\ but she moved out so no

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? my face hurts

17: Ever made out in the bathroom? made out a cheque to my haters (just kidding i have no money and no haters i just was trying to be funny. im sorry. i need humour right now.)

18: Are you scared of spiders? i mean i think it depends on how dark it is and how big the spider is tbh 

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? i dunno i’ll need an informed consent form

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? :\ 

21: What are your plans for this weekend? first i gotta recover and then i gotta finish like 5 papers and hang with people and have a sleepover and hang with more ppl and watch a bunch of tv

22: Do you want to have kids? How many? I want to give birth to 0 kids tho I am still undecided on adoption etc. I’d probs be a rly good godmother tho like im just sayin. @1of1prism @purewhiteflames​ ;)) 

23: Do you have piercings? How many? no piercings as of yet tho i wanna get my ears pierced i think. but my dad disapproves of anything like that so i’d probs have to wait to either move out or be financially independent lol

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? rn? english, women and gender studies, most things involving research-based papers where i have free reign over the topic 

25: Do you miss anyone from your past? lotsa ppl tbh

26: What are you craving right now? food........that i can eat........ chickenmelts........hamburgers......pizza........pasta......... :’(

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? prob lol but do i care

28: Have you ever been cheated on? we’ve all been cheated on.......by the system.....

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? that would require having one

30: What’s irritating you right now? my goddamn jaw and people eating food I can’t eat in front of me. my parents had mcdonalds yesterday. you know what i had. a milkshake. my sister brought home bacon wrapped scallops. I haven’t had scallops in like 2 years cause they’ve doubled in price and the one time we have scallops let alone frickin bacon wrapped scallops (like what the hell what kinda fancyass lunch) I cant FRICKIN eat it. Oh but I can smell it. I can hear u crunching on these foods. “Mmmmm!” ya shut up.

31: Does somebody love you? Do you know how popular I am? I am soooo popular. Everybody loves me so much at this school.

32: What is your favourite color? black and hot pink together

33: Do you have trust issues? ...........why are u asking..........what will u do with that info.......

34: Who/what was your last dream about? NO FREAKING JOKE!!!!!! i HAD A FRICKIN DREAM WHERE DANNY DEVITO CAME TO MY HOUSE WITH THIS LADY AND THEY TRIED TO BUY MY HOUSE AND MY MOM WAS LIKE “no..” AND THEY WERE SO MAD AND DANNY DEVITO TRIED TO STEAL THE HOUSE KEYS BUT I CAUGHT HIM JUST IN TIME like what kinda fake tumblr text post but it’s real i really dreamed that. I honestly can’t believe it. I would doubt it myself except I told someone abt it right away when I woke up. so now i will never forget.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? my mom and this nurse because I woke up in a cot after being high on laughing gas and some other drug and steroids so not only did I wake up and I didn’t know where I was and no one was there and there was like an hour gap in my consciousness but I was coming off a high LOL

36: Do you give out second chances too easily? definitely not lol I give 2nd chances on rare occasions but as a general rule if u break my trust I won’t trust u in the same way again lol “trust is like a mirror. u can fix it if it’s broke. but u can still see the crack in that mother fucker’s reflection”

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? hmmmmmmmmmmmmm forgive i guess

38: Is this year the best year of your life? well not politically or in a global sense but in terms of like self-growth and stuff I’m doing pretty well so far I’m doin pretty good. workin hard... having fun.. loving myself.. 

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? i have never in my life sullied my lips with someone else’s bacteria-laden lips

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? n.........o

51: Favourite food? chicken pasta alfredo, chicken pie, chicken vol au vents, chickenmelts, eggs benedict, um, double chocolate fudge tart from dufflet... hmm, Sophie’s dad’s lasagna and also pasta al fuerno or whatever that’s called like yum, uh.. it’s really easy to list these off when i CAN’T HAVE ANY OF THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also poutine, and I also rly like Subway (ham and cheese on italian herbs and cheese bread with lettuce, onion, pickles, and mayonaisse, toasted...) 

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? kind of but I tried to explain it to someone once and they were like ??????what ur saying makes no sense and contradicts itself and i was like ya probably lol

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? watched a bad tv show my parents were watching and drank a giant mcdonalds milkshake and iced my face

54: Is cheating ever okay? honestly who am i to judge ur relationship and forgiveness and stuff but like imo if someone cheats on u they don’t respect u as an equal in that relationship or probably as a human

55: Are you mean? i can be a bit of a dick tbh but most of the time when i say something mean in my head im like “why is my mouth saying//why are my fingers typing these horrible ass things??”

56: How many people have you fist fought? well ive never used my fists on anyone but 2 people have punched me in the stomach does that count lol

57: Do you believe in true love? at the same time, i wanna hug you, i wanna wrap my hands around your neck, you’re an asshole, but i love you... so much i think it must be true love, true love. it must be tru-e love, no one else could break my heart like yo-o-o-o-o-o. yo-o-o-o-oh, oh-o-o-oh (No)

58: Favourite weather? either when its foggy and tranquil or when its like 23-25 degrees and sunny but also there’s some clouds so it’s not like direct hot sun on u but it’s still warm enough to wear shorts

59: Do you like the snow? i like when it’s snowing and quiet and peaceful and i like lying down in the snow and having that feeling of hearing everything kind of muted? but ya i hate slush and ice and stuff 

60: Do you wanna get married? not really but i might for tax benefits LOL

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? No, get that shit away from me

62: What makes you happy? lots of things especially seeing other people happy and genuine

63: Would you change your name? Maybe tbh it’s something i’m thinking abt right now cause I’m not a super fan of my name but maybe not officially and I also don’t wanna start shit with my fam I think my mom would be upset lol 

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? ya cause they don’t exist lol

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? well thats nice cause I like him too but what’s with this “opposite sex” bs like i know what u mean but like 

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? like seriously it’s not a real thing sex and gender are both constructs it’s a spectrum, a range. my buddy. pal. listen. (also ya i like to think anyone in our friend group but like probs john cause I can be scathing with those guys but as if i’d ever be vulnerable around them LOL)

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? like ur gonna keep going with this. ur gonna keep doing this. thats fine. but i can give u some reading. like i have all these pdfs if ur interested. no joke. and if pdfs are unaccessible to u i also have a bunch of youtube links. like hon. (my dad)

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? wow i dont even know if i can tag u back @1of1prism cause if im being honest i think it was @purewhiteflames oops, yikes!!!

69: Do you believe in soulmates? no but i do think there are people that u are much more compatible with than other people

70: Is there anyone you would die for? i dunno we’ll see if/when it happens lol

I’m not gonna put anyone else through this so you can say I tagged u if u wanna do it but like lol

[fics-not-tragedies]

Vanishing point: Chapter Two

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

We’re in the second chapter folks. Also Santino gives a guest appearance because I’m a hoe for him his character is the plot fuel.

Words: 3399; Warnings: some sexual tension and few angsty bits; Summary: Juliet and John decide to visit one of her oldest friend, so they can form a plan on how to assassinate Santino, but the man himself surprises them with his visit.

Readers tag list:

@mikaneonox; @keanu-fics; @spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @derangedcupcake; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @drunkonyellow; @semtempoirmaoo; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a–1–1–3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry;

The sun was peeking through the curtains and when ray of sunlight hits her face she’s awake. She���s not immediately aware of her surroundings but she feels the warmth of another body lying close next to hers.

She turns over as slowly as she possibly can, worried that her movement could wake him too soon. The sight of the man curled into the white duvet next to you pulls something in her stomach. He is so still but she can see how his chest rises with every breath he takes, she can hear his little snores. His mouth hangs open a little, his lips parted against the pillow. His hair lays round him forming some sort of blackened halo and it makes Juliet want to run her fingers through it. His nose crinkles a little when he inhales.

There were many years in which she wasn’t that intimate with anyone. Of course her greatest asset was her body and how she doomed every man that decided to fall under her charm, but this: the sight of John curled up close to her felt more intimate than anything she’s ever done full naked.

As she slowly shuffles closer to him, pressing her body against his chest, her hands touches his bare skin, feeling how his chest rise beneath her fingertips. His skin is warm, gives her this feeling of finally being in a place she could call home, after all of those years of being homesick. With little kisses pressed gently to his collarbone she wakes him up, but only a little, the mist of sleep still all over his mind. Few groans of approval fall from his mouth and it feels like he’s inching his still tense body closer to her.

John tilts his neck a bit, giving her a better access. She moves her lips across his neck, leaving little kisses in all those places she can reach.

“Can you remind me what we’ve done last night?” he breathes out after a moment, his voice still a little bit hoarse.

“Well… we got drunk. I tried to fuck you, but you just fancied sleeping more, so I gave up that idea and went to sleep too” Juliet shifted away a little, so she could look at him. His hair was an absolute mess and half lidded eyes were the indicator of how tired he still was, “We need to get shit done tonight, Jonathan. And also we still have to question that bitch who tried to kill us, remember?” upon hearing her question he mumbled few incoherent words and turned to the other side.

She sighed, moving closer to him, her hand firstly brushed against his ass, making him whiter a little, then she placed it on his hip and as she began to move it onward, he turned around to face her.

“What do you want?” John asked her, his eyes scanning her features wrapped in his white shirt, an imprint of her lipstick pressed into its collar, “Are you wearing my shirt?” he already knew the answer, but enjoyed the way she nodded her head crawling closer to him, “Keep it.”

When he stood up from the bed she let out a sigh full of disappointment watching him put his trousers on, getting ready to leave her room.

“How much time do you need?” she was lying on her stomach, her ankles crossed in the air. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t name, but it seemed like he saw this gaze in Helen when they were still dating.

“How much time do YOU need?” he fixed his belt and leaned closer to her. Juliet lifted her body a little, inching closer to his figure. Wick brushed his hand over her hair and she closed her eyes for a moment.

“Few hours, I need to eat something first. I’ll ring your room or I’ll ask Charon to do it for me” his hand stopped on her cheek and he cupped it just for a moment without leaving her room in silence.

This man still felt like a mystery to her.

- - -

After shimmying into the transparent material, smoothing it down her curved body and looking back at herself in the mirror while fixing her hair into a neatly formed up do, she coated her lips in the universal shade of Russian Red. There was nothing else to fix, since she did the rest of her dark evening makeup beforehand.

John was standing by the door, waiting impatiently, holding his breath when Juliet stepped out of the room, the doors swinging close behind her, with eyes shining brightly, the view of her taking hold of him instantly, his gaze flickering down her body.

At first glance, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything at all. It was simply a shiny transparent fabric that made up what was actually on her body but for the most part, it looked like someone hand painted crimson colored roses right onto her soft skin, accentuated them with shimmer silvery parts, covered the shape of her breasts beneath those flowers, the dress itself barely covered anything, left too little to the imagination, her entire body was right on display.

He sucked in a breath he didn’t realized he was holding since the moment he walked from her suite,“I thought I told you to get ready” he stated, his eyebrow raised in irritation, his lip stretching slightly.

Juliet’s eyes widened, “I’m ready” she said, tilting her head slightly as she slowly approached him, her sandals muffled by the carpet. Probably a new pair, black with outrageously high heel, sprinkled with silver dust and sharp studs in matching shade placed around the heel, “This is my favorite, I love to get things done in this one” she added, twirling around as she moved closer to him.

“Oh yes, I can tell which things you have in mind, but…” he scanned her figure with his gaze again wetting his lips, “No.”

She furrowed her brows, swallowing. The appreciation in his face when he looked at her when she walked out of her room was too obvious. Of course he liked the view he had right in front of him, all he had to do was to reach out with his hand and he could graze her skin with his fingertips. His eye twitched slightly, his hand balling into a fist, “I told you that you were supposed to be a distraction, but that’s not what I meant.”

Her lips parted slightly, then closed, a big smile forming on them and she took a small breath, biting down on her bottom lip, “Am I too distracting for you, Jonathan?”

“Yes, you fucking are” his jaw was tense, eyes still glued to her figure, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to wear… this type of… dress.”

Her gaze darkened and he licked her lips again, taking a step closer to him, “What’s wrong with it, Jonathan? Ti piace ciò che vedi?”

John swallowed hard, his skin stretching over his Adam’s apple and he pressed his lips firmly together. There was no way he was going to take her out in public the way she looked now, not because he didn’t like the way she looked, but because he liked it too much, and he was too scared it could lead to many other things he wouldn’t like to do, simply for Helen’s sake, “Everything… I mean, uhm-” she took one final step closer to him, pressing her body closer to his and he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the wall.

“I know that you like what you have in front of you” she touched his thigh and he flinched, “credimi, Helen wouldn’t mind you doing things to other women, I know how much you want me, amore.”

He looked her in the eye and there was a fire burning in them, her gaze dark, lustful. His mind was spinning, but he couldn’t find anything clever to say.

“I’ll wait downstairs then” she stepped into the elevator, checked her lipstick in the tall mirror, then pressed the button for the doors to close, a satisfied smile spreading all over her lips when she saw that John finally moved and caught up to her, standing by her side. He was glancing at her from the corner of his eye, trying not to get caught on staring too obviously, but she knew he was doing that and the smile on her lips appeared yet again.

The ride downstairs passed in silence, the Concierge gave them a nod of acceptance as they were passing him by, the only thing audible on the way to the car that was already waiting for them were her heels clicking loudly on the entrance steps, and Wick just simply couldn’t help but look at the dress now, as he was walking behind her.

It was the only thing he could see and think of since the moment she appeared in the hallway dressed in that mirage. He tried to maintain his composure, to not give in to her lethal charm, but in fact he had a really hard time doing so. He was taken aback, not by the way he looked, because it was too clear, but by the way she was so sure of herself, it was almost unbearable now, and he couldn’t form a coherent thought without being distracted by the dress. Everyone at that damned place would be distracted too and it all will probably end with men killing each other just to lay their hand on Juliet’s body. And it seemed like he would be the first one ready to drew his gun out.

John opened the passenger door for her, “Grazie” she spoke in her sultry tone and he couldn’t took his eyes from her when she gracefully slid inside his car.

Juliet could feel how tense he was when he started the engine and she touched his arm that was carefully gripping the steering wheel. She outlined the visible veins with her fingertips, causing a shiver that ran down his spine. They both were surprisingly silent, the air between them filled with electricity.

He was afraid to look at her, because the sudden urge to kiss her pouty lips was clouding his mind and he’d much rather keep his eyes on the road. But she was close, too close, the musky scent of her evening perfume overwhelming his senses and for a moment he thought that someone bought her those fumes, that it was the scent HE picked up for her.

Was he getting jealous? No, he couldn’t be...

Even though he was still mourning his wife, there was something hypnotic about Juliet, something about her magnetism that led his thoughts to her, even when Helen was still in the back of his mind.

“We’re here” his voice was emotionless, even if deep inside he was at war with himself. She waited for him to open the passenger doors, then gracefully as she always was, she got out of the car with the helping hand of his, which she held onto.

The bouncer just nodded when he saw her and let them inside. The lights were dimmed, but she noticed that the interior design changed. Few good years have passed since the last time she was here. They have re-decorated it all; wallpaper on the walls seemed darker now. They've changed all the lights and the bar's now down the side with a set of neon lights placed behind glass cabinets filled with various liquors.

Juliet could feel all of the stares that were piercing right through her. She felt more fierce than ever and this see-through dress was only adding up to her self esteem. Everybody was looking at her and her only, no one else counted in that moment.

They sat by the bar and ordered two glasses of bourbon, “Is Marco here?” she asked the waiter that was serving them. He only mumbled barely coherent ‘no’ and moved back to his duties. She looked at Wick, giving him a questioning look.

“I’ll look outside then” he said, patting her back lightly, his hand burning her skin even though it wasn’t hot. It was the feeling she got every time he touched her.

John walked away and she could see how the bouncer closes the doors behind him. She finished her drink in a hurry and tried to follow him, move outside to breathe some of the fresh air, but someone was quicker and didn’t let her go.

It was Santino who grabbed her arm, stopping her from leaving. She spun around and looked at him with tears in her eyes, “Please don’t.”

“Please stay with me mi amore” he almost begged her, it seemed like he could fall onto his knees, clinging onto her legs, not letting her walk away.

“Don’t hurt me again, Santino… you’ve already done it and that one time was enough, trust me.”

“But I know you still love me, Julietta.”

“Santino, please” a single tear rolled down her cheek and he wiped it with his finger

There was only one thing dancing around his mind. Only one thing that he wanted in the whole world was to simply hug her. To wrap his arms around her waist tightly, press her close and feel the warmth of her soft skin. That was all he wanted now.

She looked around, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of John’s face, but he was nowhere near to be found and the Italian man notices how she was scanning the crowd with her eyes, “He’s too busy right now, he won’t save you like you saved him, mi amore.”

“Santino, please” she focused her gaze on his face, “just let me go” her soft tone was desperately trying to plead him into leaving her alone.

“Talk with me, Julietta, that’s all I want from you bella.”

He led her to one of the booths, watching carefully as she slides onto the leather settee placing one leg atop of the other. Then he moves close to her, pressing his thigh onto hers, leaning his whole body in her direction.

“I don’t know what on earth you want from me after all of those things that happened in our past…” a waiter placed a bucket filled with ice at their table and she stopped for a moment, waiting for him to pour the champagne in two glasses then place the bottle into that bucket. Her hands were shaking a little when she took the glass into her hand, gulping down all of its contents in one try. She recognized the very familiar, but almost forgotten aftertaste of wild berries with the chocolate hit. It was her favorite one. The one he always bought for her, the one they bathed in together.

With this one glass everything she thought she forgot came back and she was consumed by the sinking feeling that made her heart collapse under its own weight.

“I want you to come back, principessa” she snickered hearing his words and placed her glass onto the table with a loud clinking sound. Twitching a little, so she could face him and stare directly into his eyes, she cupped his face in her hands and he melted into her touch, pressing his face further into the warmth of her hands.

“Last time I saw you, Santino, you were one hundred percent sure that I’ve betrayed you, making one of your henchmen cut my back open, almost ripping my spine, because how you’ve said then I needed di imparare una lezione. And now, surprisingly, you think I still love you. No one with a normal functioning brain would love another person if they did something similar to them.”

D’Antonio was looking at her with eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape. She caught him in a crossfire with her words and he had no idea how to respond to them.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake, amore” he spoke after few moments of silence and she let go of his face, leaning back onto the settee.

“You can’t turn back time and undo all of the wrongs you did, Santi” the pet name made his gut turn and he took a sip of champagne from his glass, “and my love… my love to you won’t change anything, mi hai fatto male.”

“Principessa please, come home with me, I will make it up to you…” he tried to grab her hand, but she flinched it away from his reach.

“I’m sorry Santino, I don’t have home anymore” Juliet got up with the intent of walking around the table and leaving the place, but he stopped her again, gripping her waist tightly.

“Ti prego, non lasciarmi” he plead, with puppy eyes, almost begging her not to go. For the first time in years she felt like somehow she was finally over him, over his lies, over all of those things he did to her and how he hurt her. But she still wanted to get her revenge.

Then suddenly John storms back inside.

His face is bruised and cut in severe places, his hands look like he just beat the shit out of at least a dozen of men. He was furious, she could see it in his walk, in the way the lines on his forehead were too clearly visible when he approached their table. Juliet was afraid he could took one step too far and kill the Italian mobster here - in a place where his associates hang out and if he’d done it they wouldn’t get out of here alive.

“Oh, Jonathan! Is such a pleasure to see you” in a sing sang manner Santino greeted Wick, gesturing for him to sit with them, his one hand still gripping Juliet’s waist.

“No, thank you, we’re leaving. Right now” he grabbed her arm, trying to steal her away from D’Antonio’s reach, but he clung onto her tightly not letting her go.

“Haven’t you been taught that it’s rude to steal other kids’ toys?” the mobster asked him, making John let go of her arm and clench his fists together, like he was more than ready to beat the shit out of him as well.

“So that’s what I was to you, another toy, nothing else… E sono stato così stupido di amarti” she mumbled, leaning her head closer to his ear, so he was the only one that could hear her words.

“Did she provide you with her servizi already?”

“Her services?” John returned the question then moved his eyes to Juliet. Her jaw was tense, teeth gritted, both of her hands clenched tightly into fists. The dark look on her face meant that either way she wanted to punch him or strangle him right at the spot.

“Did you fucked her, Jonathan?” he opened his mouth to say something more, but before a single letter could leave his lips her hand met his cheek with a furious manner. His head dropped backwards and she slapped him again, before he could react to what she did.

“Bastardo!” Juliet shouted, brushing his hands of her body and walking around the table, so he could be free of him once again. But she walked over to Santino, not close enough, so he couldn’t grab her again, “After all of those years you treat me like a fuck toy?” she raised her hand like she wanted to slap him once more, but stopped it mid air when she noticed how Santino flinched in his seat.

He was rubbing his cheek with his own palm, trying to ease the stinging feeling from her slaps. A giggle left his lips making her jolt forward to him, but John’s arm wrapped around her body stopped her from moving.

“You don’t own me Santino” she pointed her finger towards his face, “and I owe you nothing! Siete un idiota senza valore che non merita di vivere!” her scream filled the whole room and every person turned their head towards them, wanting to see what’s going on.

Juliet broke away from Wick’s grip and ran out of the club, leaving the two men alone. Santino just raised his glass like he was presenting a toast to John, then took a sip from it, “Good luck with her” he spoke calmly, pouring himself another round of champagne.