#'I couldn’t understand what was exciting him.' 🥰

[eppysboys]

“Paul then got a bug about tadpoles. “Is it possible to make a pond, Dad?” he asked one day.

“What for, son?” asked Dad.

“To raise tadpoles,” replied Paul.

Dad was always very good at trying to supply anything we wanted – particularly if he thought it would be of an informative or educative nature. A few days later he dug a big hole in the back garden and sank a beer barrel in the space. Then he left us to fill it with water.

Paul got a lot of frog-spawn from somewhere and dumped all this into the barrel. For weeks he lived for nothing else but that spawn. The moment he came home from school, he’d be out into the garden, stuffing his face down into that spawn to see how it was getting on.

“They’re getting tails!” he’d yell at me and then I’d go and look at the messy stuff. I couldn’t understand what was exciting him.

“Look, there’s one with a body!” he’d point. All I could see was stuff that looked like a whole lot of dirty marmalade.

Then one day he ran into the house yelling blue murder.

“They’re getting away!” he was shouting. “They’re running off into the fields!”

Mum and I ran out and there was a horde of frogs jumping and leaping about all over the place. We managed to grab one or two and hold on to them for a moment or so but the minute we set them down again, off they went, into the bushes and hedges. In a very short time, Paul’s pond was completely empty! You should have seen his face! It would have made you laugh and cry at the same time. He had never counted on his spawn turning into real live frogs – neither had the frogs!”

Mike McCartney for Woman Magazine, Saturday, August 21, 1965.

[dollgxtz]

I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!

But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️

Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰

Edge Of Control

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end

AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!

It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.

Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.

Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.

You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.

That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.

You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.

Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.

You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.

The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.

Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.

“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.

You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. ��Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.

“The one where I use you.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.

One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Yes.”

“Is the wine good, darling?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?

Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.

You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.

How had he gotten in without you noticing?

You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?

The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.

The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.

In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.

Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.

But you knew better.

He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.

Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.

But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.

Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.

Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.

Couldn’t look away.

And you almost didn’t want to.

You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.

Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.

“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”

Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.

He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.

His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.

His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.

Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.

"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…

His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.

The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 

“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.

You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.

Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.

His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.

Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.

Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.

You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.

His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.

His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.

Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.

You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.

Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.

Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.

With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.

The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.

Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 

“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.

 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.

Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 

He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.

“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 

“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 

“What?” 

“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 

You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?

You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 

“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?

He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 

“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 

“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 

“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 

“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.

You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.

“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 

You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Start crawling,” he suggests. 

You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 

You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.

“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.

“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 

With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.

"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.

The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.

Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.

You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.

For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.

He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.

“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 

It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 

“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 

Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 

“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"

Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 

“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 

“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 

“Please fuck me.” 

He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 

He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 

“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.

He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.

“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.

“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.

He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.

"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."

You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.

“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 

Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.

“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 

And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 

He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 

“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 

“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 

“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 

He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 

“Are you okay...?” 

“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 

Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.

When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.

When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.

“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.

Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.

He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.

You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

[starkeyisthelastname]

It’s Always Been You Chapter One

Okay.. so here is the first chapter of my first series. Things will get more exciting! Hope you loves enjoy! 🥰 Things are a little different in this universe and don’t necessarily follow the exact OBX plot line. Here is the back plot for anyone who missed!

Back Plot

Rafe is a total dick to other girls, you’ve been warned. 😅

Chapter One:

The girl below him, whose name he couldn’t remember, let out a loud moan as he shoved himself inside her entirely. He pressed her head down into the mattress, telling her to shut the fuck up. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her cunt as he tried to get a quick nut in that night. It had been a long work week, and tonight he needed a distraction from wanting to go out and get wasted. It was when he was mid stroke that his phone rang on the bedside table. He went to ignore it, but eyes glanced over the caller ID to see it read your name.

“Hey slut, listen to me. Don’t make a fuckin sound when I answer this..” Rafe spat, smacking the girl’s ass hard before sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.

You had plans to go out that night with some friends, but now we’re laying in bed with your makeup done, pajamas on as they had changed their minds, leaving you alone on a Saturday night. As you held your phone up to your ear, you heard the voice of your best friend answer after a few rings.

“What’s up?” He asked, hips not slowing down as he continued to thrust into the girl. “Club doesn’t sound too busy?” He laughed, hearing the sound of a tv in the background.

You were completely oblivious to Rafe having company, and if you did know then you would have probably shut yourself down tonight not wanting to think about all the girls he constantly was fucking that weren’t you. It was your own fault really, but he had been your best friend since before you two knew what that even meant. You couldn’t ruin your lifelong friendship by telling him you’d been in love with him since you both were teenagers.

“The girls changed their minds, don’t ask me why either because I don’t even know.” You laughed, as you were sure it had to do with one of them wanting to see their boyfriend instead. “But… can you come over? I’m bored… and can you bring food?” You asked with a soft giggle. It was when you heard a faint moan in the back, that your heart sank. That wasn’t his tv, and you knew it by the name Rafe being followed. “I-I’m sorry.. I didn’t know you were busy. Um.. just text me later.” You said, clearing your throat as the last thing you wanted was for him to hear the sad tone in your voice. It was best you hang up the call and quickly.

Rafe barely had time to respond, before the call ended. His thrusts completely came to a stop, no longer caring about his nut as he tossed his phone on the bedside table and pulled out. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.” He said, voice cold as he grabbed his sweatpants from the floor. He hated himself for doing this. Meaningless hook ups to avoid how he felt about his best friend, and his anger only grew as he would have completely dropped this whiny bitch to go over to your place in a heart beat.

The girl sat on the bed, frown on her face as she watched Rafe pull the grey sweatpants over his toned hips and grabbed his vape off the dresser to take a hit of. “B- but, I didn’t cum.” She said with a pout, only to earn a mean laugh from the man that had been inside her the only moments before.

“I told you to the shut the fuck up when I was on the phone, think I care that you didn’t get to cum? Better be out of here by the time I get out of the bathroom.” Rafe said causally, walking towards his connected bathroom, not carrying that she mumbled asshole under her breath.

He was an asshole, always had been. That stemmed from some deeper issues that he didn’t talk about often. The only ones who knew about his mental health problems were his family and you, something no random girl would ever understand. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before slamming his fist on the marble counter of the sink. Why was he continuing this torture on himself? Why was he such a pussy about telling you how he felt?

You heard the beep of the alarm, signaling someone had unlocked the front door. There was only a few people who knew the code, your parents, Sarah, Wheezie and Rafe. Walking down the stairs of your townhome, you saw his tall figure stepping in quietly, a bag of food in his hand. You took a sigh, stepping onto the hardwood floor as you looked at him. You wanted to be mad at him, but you couldn’t. There was no reason to be. Right? He was just doing what Rafe Cameron did.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had your little girlfriend over.” You asked, trying to hide the obvious jealousy in your voice. Your fuzzy slippers glided over to where he stood, taking the food sack from him and turning around to head into the living room. You heard him chuckle behind you, but didn’t look back as you plopped yourself onto the couch.

“Not my fucking girlfriend.” Rafe snorted, throwing his keys on the coffee table. “You know I don’t do serious shit.” He said, collapsing down next to you as you pulled the food out from the bag. He didn’t do committed relationships as he was far too busy working at his father’s company, trying his best to become the man he needed to be. In an out of jail, high off blow and after nearly killing someone, he was trying to do right for the people he loved and more importantly himself. The only committed relationship he was willing to be in was with you, that was if he ever manned up enough to tell you.

As you unwrapped your food, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench at that statement. For as long as you’d known Rafe he’d never dated anyone longer than a month. He was too selfish to be tied down and after everything he had went through during his coke fiend, you knew his focus was work and trying to stay clean. You just wondered if he would ever want anything serious when it came to you.

“And you really thought that bitch was important enough for me to skip coming to hang out with my best friend?” He asked, stealing a fry as he leaned back against the cushion.

Best friend.. and that’s all you would probably would ever be to him. You brushed the thought away, slapping his hand away as he started to reach for another fry. “Why didn’t you just get something if you planned on stealing my food?” You asked with a laugh as he pretended to look hurt that you slapped his hand.

Rafe always seemed to have a stick up his ass for the most part, a brooding look constantly on his handsome face. You knew it was hard for Rafe to let down the wall of being vulnerable, or even his funnier side. You felt lucky that you got to see the side of him that not a lot of people got to experience.

“I just wanted a couple, damn. It’s the least I can get for waiting in that long ass line for some damn chicken strips.” He scoffed, muttering about how the worker was an asshole anyway.

You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of one as he pulled his vape from the pocket of his hoodie to take a hit off. “Please tell me you aren’t gonna complain this much on family vacation.” You said, jokingly, meeting his blue eyes you loved so much as you looked up at him.

Blowing out the cloud of flavorful smoke, he rolled his own eyes before leaning his head back against the couch. “Don’t fucking remind me, that my dad picked fucking Disney World of all places.” He said with a grumble, shuddering at the idea of all the kids he was going to have to be around for 7 days.

It had been a tradition every summer for as long as you could remember that both of your families took a trip together. The first one of this year being Disney World, which you were excited for. Rafe on the other hand would rather go anywhere else than the happiest place on earth.

“Wheezie’s been begging to go for years and we’ve always gone elsewhere. Let your sister be happy.” You said, knowing the thirteen year old hardly got to choose anything that she wanted to do as she was the youngest out of everyone.

“She’s 13. Don’t you think she’s a little old for Mickey Mouse or some bullshit.” Rafe said, eyes traveling back to you. The way you looked so effortlessly beautiful, having washed your face free of makeup. Your hair on top of your head in a messy bun, and cute little set pink pajama set on that hugged those gorgeous curves. He wanted to groan, not only from the thought of leaving for Orlando in a few days but also that he wanted you more than anything he ever wanted in his life. Rafe pretty much got whatever his heart desired, except having you as his girl.

“You are never too old for Disney.” You told him, matter of factly as you continued to eat, completely clueless to the fact his cerulean eyes were bored into you as he watched you.

Rafe let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at the fact you and everyone else seemed to be thrilled about visiting a place he didn’t find so magical. “Are you that excited princess?” He asked, the nickname one you were used to but still felt butterflies when he said it.

Swallowing a bite, you looked up at him to meet his gaze with a nod to your head. Disney was the place where dreams came true and maybe there you would finally have the courage to tell your best friend that you were in love with him.

tag list: @alinavalentine

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[corroded-hellfire]

i love as you wish wednesdays! how did the three kids take the news that reader was expecting again? 🥰

It felt very fitting to fill this request this week because reader goes into labor with this pregnancy on April Fool’s Day and Eddie thinks it’s a prank at first (thank you @munson-blurbs for that idea). Yes, I have a whole timeline mapped out for these stories because I’m a nerd. I hope you enjoy the continuing adventures of this crazy gang 😘

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The lock clicks on the front door, swinging inward as Eddie gives it a push from the outside. Gentleman as ever, he gestures for his family to walk into the house before him. Ryan steps in first, you right behind him, then Luke comes over the threshold, Eliza slung over his shoulder, the little girl almost comatose from eating so much of her macaroni and cheese at the restaurant. 

Eddie brings up the rear and closes the door behind him. The two of you share a look full of excitement and nerves as your husband kicks off his boots and wipes his hands off on the sides of his dark jeans. It’s rare the Munson house is ever this quiet, all members stuffed from the nice family dinner they just had. Little do the kids know that the evening out was a precursor to some major news. 

It’s been a few weeks since you revealed to Eddie that you were pregnant again. The two of you had been caught in a whirlwind of excitement, your husband joking that it didn’t take him long to “get one past the goalie” since the two of you decided to go off all forms of birth control and try for another baby. Ryan, Luke, and Eliza had just started school when you found out though, so both you and Eddie wanted to give them some time to get into the swing of things before you dropped another big change on them. 

The few weeks gave you and your husband time to discuss how and when to tell the kids about the new baby. At first, you’d discussed telling the boys and Eliza separately because they’ll understand it differently because of their respective ages. Ultimately, you decided against that because it was important for you both to tell them all together, as the one big family you are. Now the time was here, and you couldn’t help but think the butterflies in your stomach must be fluttering around the baby growing inside of you. 

“I’m going to call Hannah,” Ryan says, cheeks pinkening at the mere mention of the girl he likes and went out on a “maybe sort-of” date with last weekend.

“Ah, in a little while,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of his oldest son’s chest, stopping him from heading down the hallway toward his room. He nods his head towards the couch where Luke is flinging a very rag doll looking Eliza down on the middle cushion, nudging Ryan to join his siblings. 

Luke takes a seat on one side of Eliza as she struggles to sit up, while Ryan takes the other. The younger brother takes a look at his siblings before looking back to his parents.

“Who’s in trouble?” he asks.

Eddie shakes his head as he pulls the recliner that’s typically tucked away in the corner of the room in front of the couch so the two of you can sit facing your kids. Once he sits, you perch yourself in Eddie’s lap and he immediately wraps his arm around your waist.

“No one is in trouble,” Eddie tells them. 

“We just want to talk to you guys,” you add. 

“Sounds like trouble,” Eliza mumbles to her brothers, sinking lower in her seat. 

An exasperated look is shared between you and your husband, both of your expressions simultaneously turning into giddy smiles in your excitement. The look doesn’t go unnoticed by your sons, who shoot each other questioning glances over their little sister’s curly head. 

Now that it was time to break the news, you started to get truly nervous for the first time. What if they didn’t take it well? Sure, the boys had been very excited to find out when you were pregnant with Eliza, but they’ve both grown into teenagers since then and gained the moods that come along with the titles. Eliza might not be thrilled either, used to being the baby of the family, getting the lion’s share of the attention her whole life. Neither you nor Eddie doubted your kids would love their new sibling dearly, but their initial reactions were still a little worrisome.

A soft hand rubs up and down your thigh, as if Eddie can sense your nerves–and possibly shares in them as well. You’d both prepared a time and place to tell them, figured out how to initiate the conversation, but how to come out and say it? Not so much.

Eddie clears his throat and gives your leg a light squeeze, letting you know he’s got you. He gives you a nod, encouraging you forward. You’d wanted to be the one to break the news. In this moment it was hard for you to remember why.

“So, we have some news for you guys.” You know if you let those words sit there too long the three kids will just start shouting different scenarios and ideas at you, so it’s best to just get it out. “You’re going to have a new baby brother or sister.”

There. The hard part was done. Now you were ready to see their reactions. Only, none come at first. You simply sit there in your husband’s lap, three pairs of eyes staring back at you. It feels like your chest seizes up and you internally wonder if you’d said the words aloud or not.

But finally, a smile cracks on Ryan’s face and he sits up straighter.

“Really?” he asks.

The initial response breaks the ice, allowing the younger Munson siblings to sink into the conversation as well.

Eliza looks a little confused while Luke’s eyebrows pull together and he lets out a groan as he flops back on the couch.

“Ugh, that means you guys still do it,” he says. 

You can’t help but balk at his words, your cheeks heating up. Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise you coming from Luke. It certainly didn’t shock your husband. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at the fourteen-year-old. “How old do you think we are?”

“63,” Eliza answers immediately with complete confidence. 

Stifling a laugh, Ryan leans in towards you, you meeting him halfway to hear what he has to say.

“Be glad that the age part of that is what she focused on,” Ryan mumbles to you and you nod in agreement. 

Eddie runs his hand over his face, pushing past the age thing. “Eliza, do you understand about the baby?”

The little girl tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. She looks alarmingly like her father with an open and curious expression on her cherubic face. 

“A baby?” she asks.

“That’s right,” Eddie says with a nod. “There’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy.”

This seems to puzzle Eliza more than anything else that has been said. Her face scrunches up as she tilts her head to the other side. “How did it get there?”

At her question, both of your teenage sons turn to look at the two of you with shit-eating grins on their faces. Of course they’d be no help.

“Yeah, how?” Luke asks, feigning innocence. 

Heat blooms fire in your cheeks and Eddie clears his throat before shooting the boys a quick glare. By the way he clenches his fist, you can tell your husband is resisting throwing a couch pillow at the younger teen. 

“Well,” Eddie says, taking a calming breath, “when mommies and daddies love each other, their love can grow a baby.”

Questions still swim in Eliza’s eyes so you swoop in to add more information before she can ask anything more specific. 

“And the baby grows in my belly until they’re big and strong and can be born,” you add. 

The little gears turning in Eliza’s head are practically visible as she thinks over her parents’ words. She’s silent for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m the baby.”

“You’ll always be our baby girl,” Eddie is quick to assure her. This was his biggest worry in telling the kids; Eliza was so used to having everyone wrapped around her finger. “Ryan and Luke are still my baby boys.”

The three-year-old isn’t convinced. 

“…I’m the baby.”

With a soft smile, you lean forward and scoop your daughter up in your arms. She settles in your lap with a little huff, and you press reassuring kisses to her chocolate curls. 

“You are. But there’s going to be another baby. That means you get to be a big sister now.”

The toddler ponders this aspect for a moment, eventually asking, “What I do?”

“Well, before the baby is born you can help me pick out things for the nursery and some cute baby clothes,” you say, appealing to her stylish streak. “You know I trust your fashion sense more than the boys.”

Eliza’s small head bobs up and down in agreement. Never again would she let her brothers pick out her outfits—she’s learned her lesson.

“Then after the baby is born,” you continue, “you can teach them all kinds of stuff. You’ll be to the new baby like Ryan and Luke are to you.”

“Will…” Eliza’s bottom lip starts to tremble, another worry taking hold in her mind. “Will they still love me and play with me?”

Her big brothers are on duty though, already reassuring her before you can even raise your head to look at them.

“Of course, squirt,” Luke says, reaching forward and poking her full belly. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

“A new baby is just one more person to love,” Ryan explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean we love you any less.”

“The heart can always make more love,” Eddie adds, taking his daughter’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“And just think,” Luke says, eyes widening with his trademark mischievous grin, “when they get older, you and I can play pranks on them like Ryan and I do to you.”

Large doe eyes light up at that, Eliza always wanting to be a part of her big brother’s shenanigans. The new idea clearly excites her and the prospect of her becoming a mini-Luke is too exhausting for you to even consider.

Eliza next turns those big brown eyes on you, now looking a little more serious than excited. 

“Mama, can you make the baby a girl?”

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her request.

“I can’t control that, sorry kid,” you tell her with a small smile.

“I hope she’s a girl,” Eliza says, sounding more like she’s declaring what will be rather than what she wants. 

“No!” Luke protests with an overdramatic whine. “Ryan and I need another boy on our side.”

“I say it’s a girl,” Ryan says and it makes Luke drop his jaw and look at his older brother as if he’s a traitor. But, of course, it’s Luke, so another scheme pops into his brain.

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Oh, God,” you mumble, dropping your head forward to rest your forehead atop Eliza’s curls.

The older Munson brother appraises the younger, his eyes suspicious and inquisitive. “What do you have in mind?”

“Loser gets a tattoo.”

“No,” Eddie immediately interjects. He didn’t mind the betting, but he wasn’t about to let one of his teenage sons choose something permanent to ink on his other teenage son for the rest of their lives.

“You have like 80 of them!” Luke whines at his father.

“But all my choice, none from a bet,” Eddie says. That may or may not be true, but he’s not about to give his impressionable son any ideas. “Next.”

“Loser wears a Care Bear onesie—with a hood—into a McDonald’s and eats lunch there,” Ryan says, pointing a finger in his brother’s direction.

Luke immediately accepts. “Deal. Winner picks the Care Bear costume.”

They shake on it and Eddie can’t help the amused smirk that dances on his lips.

“I cannot wait to see this.”

The bet now settled, Ryan turns to face you. “How far along are you?”

“Just eight weeks,” you say.

“Maybe we won’t find out if it’s a girl or boy beforehand. Just keep the suspense of the bet in the air until the birth,” Eddie muses. Of course he’s egging this on. 

“Can I name this baby too?” Ryan asks, eyes lighting up.

This question catches Eliza by surprise and her eyes widen comically as she stares at him.

“You named me?!”

“You’re lucky. Luke wanted to name you Donnie,” Ryan explains.

Eyes getting impossibly wider, your little girl looks up at you. “Mommy, don’t let Luke name the baby.”

With a laugh, you press a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t worry, sweet pea.”

Ryan lounges back on the couch, a smirk on his face as his eyes flit back and forth between you and Eddie.

“You know, I think you’re having this baby because I’ll be a senior next year and you don’t want an empty nest when I’m gone.”

“This is not how I envisioned this conversation going,” Eddie says with a huff of laughter.

“What did you want more of?” Luke asks. “Cheers? Tears? I’ll be happy to provide either way.”

Both of your sons start performing over-the-top expressions for Eddie, fake crying and grinning in glee, proving once and for all that they both inherited his dramatic gene. 

With a sigh bigger than you’d expect from such a small girl, Eliza snuggles back against you and places a small hand on your tummy. All three Munson men start cackling in laughter at something Luke did, but Eliza just looks up at you with a straight face.

“Boys,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Tha’s why I want baby to be a girl.”

[stardustvanfleet]

Desire — Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!!!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: When your boyfriend Jake takes you out on a romantic dinner date, you can’t help but tease him… but two can play at that game.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. Soft dom!Jake. Relentless teasing while at dinner, absurd amounts of sexual tension. Rushing home from the restaurant to fuck. Fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, finishing inside, dirty talk with both praise and degradation.

Author’s Note: It’s been almost exactly a year to the day since I posted my last full-length Jake fic, and I am so beyond excited to be finally sharing this one with you all! I wrote this over the last few months with a WHOLE lot of love behind it. Huge thanks to everyone for being so understanding about the gap in my writing— I went through a lot of really exciting changes in my life this year that put writing on hold for a little while, but it feels SO fantastic to be writing for gvf again!! HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to my LOVE my LIFE my darling poppy aka my beloved aka smooching you @gold-mines-melting I LOVE YOUUU thank you for being my beta reader and my brainstorming partner in crime and also being my Best Friend and i cannot WAIT to hug you again literally NEXT WEEK!!!!!!!!! other special thanks go to @losfacedevil @texas-bbq-pringles and @joshsindigostreak for just being some incredibly lovely humans that i am SO lucky to know 🥰

FIC BEGINS UNDER THE CUT!

//

It had started innocently enough.

At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

Truly, when Jake had come to you earlier in the day with that coy smile you loved so much, asking if you’d let him take you out tonight, you had no premeditated plans of intentionally working him up. Of course, having been together for quite some time now, you did happen to know exactly how to turn him on. Even in the most subtle of ways. The slightest touches, the smallest movements. And it wasn’t your fault if he just happened to have an effect on you that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, without even trying.

Okay… well, given the facts, perhaps the turn of events had been somewhat inevitable.

//

All you could focus on was Jake’s hand on your waist. It wasn’t that you weren’t admiring the decor of this upscale, intimate Italian restaurant he had brought you to, or that you weren’t able to smell the intoxicating aromas of different meals being brought to the tables you passed as you two were led to your own. It really was just that simple— one touch. That’s all it took. One touch, focused and deliberate, steady yet electric. One touch from Jake and your body was alight.

Your attention was fixated on the sensation. The heat of his large hand through the thin fabric of your dress, his fingers firmly resting against you, gripping just barely, just enough for you to feel it. How could you be getting this intoxicated on him already, before you’d even reached the dinner table? It was practically absurd. Still, the burning between your thighs was impossible to deny. Your breath caught in your throat, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught a smirk tugging at the corner of Jake’s lips.

Oh, yeah? Two can play at that game. The thought materialized in your mind just as you two arrived at the table Jake had reserved in advance. It was small, romantic, somewhat secluded, but still undoubtedly within view of other tables in the restaurant. No, you couldn’t be too daring. But what would be the harm in seeing what you could get away with?

The dress you were wearing was one of Jake’s favorites. It was a shade of blue that especially complemented your skin tone, and you knew the way it fit you and accentuated your curves drove him wild. You couldn’t help but think to use that to your advantage. As Jake sat down, his eyes remaining on you, it was impossible to resist the urge to seize the moment. Before taking your seat, you let your hands rest on the very top of the chair’s back, meeting your boyfriend’s lingering gaze. When he arched an eyebrow at you inquisitively, a knowing, appreciative smile on his face, you sighed, “I needed a night out with you, baby… to just relax with you… god, I’m so stiff…” 

You trailed off, arching your back as though to stretch it, while paying quiet attention to the way Jake’s eyes trailed across your body, the slight hitch in his breathing as you let your mouth fall open in the apparent bliss of the stretch you were feeling. Pushing your chest forward and arching further, a sigh slipped from your lips as Jake— ever so slightly, but just enough for you to take notice— shifted in his seat. A sense of smug pride began to swell deep within you, alongside a stirring of something… else even further down.

Finally, you slipped into your seat, your gaze resting on Jake— an involuntary shiver running down your spine at the way his eyes had seemed to darken substantially within just the past few moments. Coyly, you picked up your menu, far more focused on Jake’s lingering gaze than the entrées on the page. You made a big show of scanning through, chewing on your lower lip… but truthfully you were barely glancing at it, your attention focused on the man across from you, the thoughts in your mind traveling down a path that had nothing to do with dinner.  After a heart-pounding minute or two of stealing amorous glances over your menus, you couldn’t hold back anymore. Lowering your menu to the table and making sure Jake had a full view of your cleavage, you leaned forward, cocking your head wickedly and asking pointedly, “See anything you want tonight…?”

His gaze instantly intensified at your double entendre, those dark eyes of his flashing down to your cleavage just long enough for you to notice. The tension was already growing palpable as Jake locked eyes with you once more, his expression calm and collected but his cheeks already beginning to flush— a telltale sign of Jake’s arousal building under the surface. Still, he wasn’t going to give in that easy. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady and measured. “Be careful, pretty girl… play with fire… and you’re gonna get burned.”

“Maybe I like the heat,” you replied quickly, definitively, letting your fingers absentmindedly trace the lines in the wooden grain of the table, making sure Jake took notice of your languid movements. His gaze was electric, and you watched as he shifted in his seat once more, his jaw clenching and unclenching involuntarily as he clearly tried to maintain his composure. 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you love it… but can you handle it? Can you take it all?” Jake’s words instantaneously sucked all air from your lungs, dissipated all coherent thoughts from your mind. You blinked at him, lost for words for a moment— and the smirk he gave you in return made it clear that he knew all too well the effect that his words were having on you.

“Seems like you’re interested in finding out just how much I can take,” you replied seductively, prompting Jake to arch an eyebrow at the bold nature of your comment. Before he was able to open his mouth to escalate the teasing even further, however, a waiter approached your table— putting an immediate pause on the conversation that was slipping deeper into innuendo by the moment. And though the waiter took great care to describe the details of each of that evening’s specials, you truthfully weren’t able to register a word of what they were saying. Not with Jake’s eyes on you, watching. Studying. His gaze traveled across your every centimeter, as though he was drinking you in with his eyes alone— and simultaneously undressing you in the same manner. The undeniable ache between your thighs was becoming more and more difficult to ignore in the presence of Jake’s unyielding eye contact.

Jake’s ability to appear calm and collected in moments like these was always something that impressed you. Even when you could tell that he was positively burning for you, using every ounce of his energy to keep his composure… to the untrained eye, the intensifying rosy flush in his cheeks would be the only hint towards his interior demeanor. Knowing that you were the only one that could read him so well, the only one in the restaurant aware of the desire building within him, was only serving to muddle your thoughts further. Dazedly, you became aware of how hot the room was beginning to feel.

Jake ordered for both of you, as though he was aware that you were having trouble finding the words through your cloud of arousal— and the smirk he directed towards you all but confirmed that suspicion. Always thoughtful, knowing you so well, he had chosen a drink and a dish for you that perfectly encapsulated your favorite flavors.

How ironic that the craving you were experiencing had nothing to do with the meal.

The dinner passed in a fashion that seemed somehow a blur and yet excruciatingly slow all at once— the service was impeccable, the food delicious, but every moment spent sitting across from Jake was only serving to heighten the tension that was becoming more and more unbearable. Every movement, every word from Jake, caused arousal to flood your veins. The way the muscles in the back of his hand flexed when he picked up his glass, the way his long fingers curled around it. His soft, raspy laugh, paired with that magnetic gaze that left you breathless. You were transfixed, spellbound. You could never begin to understand the effect he was able to have on you so effortlessly, but it was undeniable. Heat was radiating through every inch of your body. He had you aching, and he knew it. Still, you had your suspicions that you weren’t the only one whose thoughts had grown increasingly indecent as the night drew on. You knew that look in Jake’s eyes.

And at the end of the meal, when Jake finally stood, you were given all the information that you needed to know. Your gaze immediately flashed downwards— to an unmistakable silhouette, thick and hard, straining through the front of Jake’s pants. Your entire face suddenly grew incredibly hot, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your thighs squeezed together subconsciously. Fuck. As you were left blinking up at him, mind blank beyond the desire radiating through you, the wicked look in Jake’s eyes had you trembling. He chuckled as he took your hand, helping you to your feet and smirking. “Why so flustered, baby?” When you still couldn’t find the words, he leaned in, letting you hear his last question right in your ear, raspy and low. “Do you see something you want tonight…?”

Your own line. Fuck.

So that’s how he was going to play it. 

//

If dinner was difficult to get through, the ride home from the restaurant was damn near tortuous. The drive couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, but the effort was Herculean. The tension was burning, intoxicating, dizzying, with Jake gripping the steering wheel practically white-knuckled in his determination to get the two of you home as efficiently as possible. You could hardly breathe, squeezing your thighs together, heart hammering within your chest, knowing you must be positively soaked. Even Jake’s heavy breaths were making your head spin. You were aching for his touch. Desperate for it. 

When finally, finally, Jake pulled into the driveway of the home you shared, you felt practically lightheaded. Pulling his key from the ignition, he turned to you. Once your eyes met, your breath caught all over again, and Jake arched his eyebrow, as though to challenge you. His voice was low and seductive when he spoke. “You’re looking all worked up, baby… is there something my pretty girl needs?”

Your breaths were coming shakily, your legs somehow already beginning to tremble, but you managed one more teasing smirk. “Why don’t you get me inside and see?”

At that, Jake’s teeth grazed his lower lip, the sight sending a shiver down your spine. “That’s my pretty little tease…” He trailed off at the involuntary whimper that slipped from your lips at his words, giving a raspy hum of approval in the presence of your blatant desire.

Flustered, desperate, dripping with need, the last few steps towards your front door would’ve taken quite literally every last bit of effort you had left within you to remain outwardly composed… even if Jake’s hand wasn’t resting on your lower back in that same way that always left you reeling.

The door hadn’t even closed behind you before you had practically thrown yourself at Jake, his satisfied groan of relief against your lips making you dizzier still as you kissed him feverishly, desperately, pressing yourself up against his solid, sturdy form with everything you had. The contact, the friction, even through the layers of fabric between you, was electrifying. Every cell in your body was crying out for more, desperate to feel Jake’s hot, flushed skin against your own. Your hands were instantly all over him, grabbing at him, pulling him closer, closer, and Jake was doing the same, his large hands searching to feel and grab at every inch of you as he kissed you back with a sense of urgency that left you whimpering into his mouth.

Your hands were sliding up his chest, finding where his button-down shirt was opened to and hooking your fingers into the fabric, desperately fumbling the last few buttons open and pushing it off of his shoulders. Another rush of need hit you in sync with his shirt dropping to the floor, drunk on the feeling of Jake’s flushed skin, hot with desire, as he growled his approval against your lips.

Somehow, while still entirely entangled in one another, hands everywhere, Jake was able to maneuver the two of you towards the bedroom between messy, heated kisses that left the two of you gasping for air. Backing you up towards the bed, Jake was groaning, “God, you’re such a tease, baby… getting me rock fucking hard for you with this beautiful fucking body…” while letting his hands slide up and down your curves, grabbing handfuls wherever he knew it would make you whimper. “You’re a fucking vision in this dress…” he breathed out, voice trailing off as he reached around and let one finger begin to trace up the zipper of the dress, the sudden soft and deliberate touch causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. Stepping behind you, Jake took the toggle between two fingers and began to pull the zipper down, continuing, “…and you’re such a fucking vision when I take it off of you…”

You bit your lip, moaning softly at Jake’s words as he helped you out of your outfit. The dress fell to the floor, pooling around your ankles, leaving you completely naked in front of Jake. You hadn’t worn any panties, knowing exactly how that little surprise would affect your boyfriend— and Jake’s sudden utterance of a soft, nearly breathless “Fuck. Goddamn,” from behind you made it clear that you’d achieved the exact result you were hoping for.

Turning back to face him, your body was struck with a staggering wave of arousal when you laid eyes on his expression.

Desire. Unadulterated, overwhelming desire.

It was in the hunger in his eyes, the determination in his gaze. It was in the way his chest was heaving with anticipation, the way he licked his lips as he took you in. It was in the way his hands immediately fell to tug his uncomfortably tight pants all the way down. And, God, most dizzying of all, it was more than evident in the large bulge that now openly strained through the front of Jake’s black boxer briefs. 

You were standing at the edge of the bed as Jake approached you, his gaze intense, heat and arousal radiating from his body, intoxicating every one of your senses. The anticipation was agonizing. You could hardly take it any longer.

“Jake, please,” you found yourself begging, the words coming out even more desperate than you had intended. “Take me…. I need it. Please.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow, smirking deviously. His voice was rough and low when he spoke again. “Oh, you need it? Is that why my baby was being such a dirty little tease tonight? Because you just need it so bad?”

A soft whine escaped your lips, your whole body trembling in anticipation of pleasure. “I need it so bad, Jakey… I’m soaked for you. Please…”

At the sound of your admission, Jake’s teeth sunk into his lower lip and he let out a soft, low sound that made you shudder with arousal. “Yeah? That little pussy’s all soaked for me already?” Jake asked almost patronizingly, and your head spun with need, letting yourself nod desperately and begin to whimper out another plea— but Jake cut you off, smirking, as he breathed out, “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

And all of a sudden, Jake was kissing you as though his life depended on it.

Your boyfriend was suddenly over you, his firm, strong body pushing you onto the bed underneath him, his hands grabbing and caressing at every inch of your exposed skin as they traveled downwards, getting closer and closer to your aching pussy.

“Please, please…” you were whining into his kiss, bucking your hips to encourage him to continue on as he forced himself to pull back from your lips, tugging at your lower lip with his teeth as he did so.

“Let’s see just how needy this little cunt is…” Jake began, pulling your thighs open with large hands, your mouth dropping open wide with lust as he moved you around so effortlessly. Spread wide to him, exposed, there was nothing you could do to hide the fact that you were already dripping down your thighs. At the sight of you, Jake’s mouth dropped open to mirror your own.

“Oh, fuck. Goddamn, baby. You weren’t kidding… this pussy really is crying for me…” Jake began to drag his fingers up your inner thigh, setting you even further alight everywhere he touched. “Oh, and she’s been so patient… waiting like such a good girl… Let me give her what she needs.”

All of a sudden, expert fingers were slipping right between your legs, gathering your arousal before moving straight to your clit, stroking it at a steady, fast rhythm that made you cry out instantaneously.

Jake’s fingers were so persistent, so relentless. Your breath caught in your throat, your mouth falling open involuntarily, words attempting to form but fading fast, dying on your lips as his fingertips traced devastatingly quick circles over your already aching clit.

“Ohh… What's wrong, baby? Nothing left to say now?” Jake’s voice was low, his tone like velvet, his eyes never once leaving your body writhing underneath him, the way your expression shifted in response to his touch. “A little less mouthy when you’ve got my hand between your legs…”

A sound resembling a whine escaped your lips, and Jake chuckled, a sound so low and raspy that sent shivers all the way up and down your spine. “God, baby, you sound so pretty when you’re falling apart…” With his thumb still tracing and playing with your clit, Jake let one long finger start to tease at your entrance, his lips parting with satisfaction when you let out another breathy moan.

“Fuck, please,” you managed, the words coming out shaky, needy; and Jake let out a soft groan at the sound of your obvious desparation, gritting his teeth together for a moment in a way that betrayed the depth of his own desire.

“Please what, pretty girl? Come on, baby… use your filthy little words, let me hear it…”

Your back arched, his calloused thumb rolling across your most sensitive spot again and again, all in conjunction with the way he was encouraging your neediness— it was sending jolts of electricity straight to your core, your brain growing lightheaded. Thoughts whirling, pleasure building, you were finally able to find your words, though you hardly recognized your own voice through the heavy fog of desire that had fully overtaken your every inch.

“Fuck… give it to me, Jake… need those fingers deep inside me, fucking me hard, just how I like it… please, baby… I need it so bad…”

Jake’s resulting groan at your words left your eyes damn near rolling back into your head— and while you managed to hold your composure for a moment, once Jake’s heavy-lidded eyes darkened, holding your gaze with lust-blown pupils and groaning out, “God, you beg so sweet, baby,” and sliding not one but two fingers deep into your cunt— all hope was lost. You were long gone.

He didn’t hesitate; maybe he’d lost his patience for teasing. The speed and intensity with which his fingers immediately began to hammer into you, paired with the continuous motion of his thumb strumming your clit, was earth-shattering. Your back arched further off the bed as you cried out a trembling, “Oh, fuck, Jake…” which drew a sharp inhale and a husky chuckle from the man hovering over you.

“Goddamn… yeah, moan for me, sweet girl, lemme hear it…” Jake’s voice was raspy, urging you on, every word sending sparks straight to your core as he worked your pussy just right, his agile fingers seemingly hitting every sweet spot at once while curling and stroking deep within you. You were seeing stars. He’d only just started finger-fucking you, and already, already he was taking you on a fast track straight to the edge of oblivion— all with just one hand. Your moans had grown desperate, needy, increasing in pitch and volume as you felt yourself beginning to lose control. 

“Oh my god… oh my god… Jake… fuck, right there…”

His face hovered over yours, his cheeks flushed and eyes dark as he smirked in that way that always left you feeling a little lightheaded. You were struggling to keep your eyes open through the haze of your impending orgasm as Jake said, voice soft and thick with desire, “I know, baby… this was what you fucking wanted… I know exactly how to fuck this pretty pussy, huh?” At his words, you instantly and involuntarily clenched around his thrusting fingers, and Jake let out a husky laugh that turned into a groan, cursing a soft “Shit…” under his breath. Unable to respond out loud, you were nodding in response to his question immediately, your mouth falling open into a silent scream as the heat began to build in your lower stomach. His mouth fell open, mirroring your own expression, with his gaze directly on you. “Goddamn, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me already? Does this sweet pussy need to cum that bad?” His fingers were unyielding, slamming into you again and again, his thumb sweeping over your clit at a speed perfectly in rhythm with his thrusts. You were so close, so close… 

All of a sudden, Jake’s free hand wrapped around the base of your throat, holding it firm. His voice was somehow both commanding and almost needy when he growled out, “Then cum now. Right fucking now. Soak these fucking fingers.”

The overwhelming, head-spinning tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you instantaneously. Shudders wracked your body as you cried out a weak, trembling, “Fuck, Jake…!” clenching down around him and soaking his fingers exactly the way he had told you to. Jake’s soft, amorous groans and breathy curses served as a spine-tingling backdrop to the way he kept his pace straight through your orgasm, prolonging and heightening every feeling, every sensation. You were left whimpering, moaning, entirely losing yourself in the overwhelming bliss, and Jake’s heavy-lidded, hungry eyes remained on you. Drinking you in. Savoring your pleasure as though it was his own.

After an inestimable amount of time, you finally found yourself beginning to come to your senses as the last few intense shivers coursed through you. Jake released his grip on your neck and slowed the pace of his fingers to a halt as you caught your breath, opening your eyes to gaze at him with dazed astonishment and unbridled desire— and the look in his eyes alone was enough to already send yet another shock of arousal straight down your spine, even as your heart still pounded in your chest and your hands still trembled with the aftershocks of your first orgasm. It was practically indefinable, the effect that he had on you.

“Fuck, baby… you did so good for me, sweet girl…” Jake was sighing, pulling his fingers from your cunt and bringing them to his lips. Your mouth dropped open instinctively, watching him through a haze of arousal as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you as he groaned around his own digits, dragging his fingers along his tongue as he pulled them from his mouth, licking his lips. “This pussy is fucking breathtaking…” the words fell from his lips thick with desire, and another shudder coursed through your body, causing Jake to raise his eyebrows at you and cock his head, chuckling darkly. “Oh… my pretty girl likes when I talk about her little cunt, doesn’t she…?”

You were nodding without thinking, your head already swimming at the thought of what was still to come. Jake’s dark eyes were still on you, his gaze intense and his pupils blown wide with lust, as he continued, “That’s what I thought… and it seems to me… that this desperate, needy little pussy still isn’t satisfied…” A soft whimper escaped from the back of your throat, and Jake let out another soft, husky laugh. “I know, my sweet girl… that felt so good… but it wasn’t enough, was it…?” You were shaking your head, heat already beginning to build between your thighs once again as you bit down on your lower lip. 

Jake was smirking, before letting his expression grow serious as he leaned in. “You need my cock, don’t you, pretty girl?” You moaned out loud without even thinking, and the hunger in Jake’s eyes intensified even further, making your mind reel and your body shiver. “That’s a really pretty moan, baby…” Jake went on, “...but I need my pretty little slut to use her words if she wants me to fill her up…” Your eyes rolled back a bit, so overcome with arousal that it took a moment for you to rediscover your own capacity for speech.

“God, fucking please, Jake,” you gasped, your tone shaky and needy, and Jake groaned a bit under his breath, his cheeks flushed and his forehead damp with sweat as he hovered over you. “I’m so fucking desperate. Need you to fuck me. Please. God, please.” Your pussy was practically throbbing with need all over again, and the smirk on Jake’s face made it clear that he could tell— his own desire made abundantly clear in far more than just his gaze as he raised himself up onto his knees from where he was hovering over you, bringing your attention directly to the large bulge straining through the front of his black boxer briefs.

Your jaw dropped, dumbstruck, as his own hand slid down his body, from his tanned, firm chest to his soft tummy and further down, before wrapping around his clothed cock and giving it a squeeze, as a soft, low sound somewhere between a hum and a growl escaped from the back of his throat. “Oh… does my baby need my cock?” Jake asked in a tone that was almost patronizing, sending jolts of arousal directly between your legs as you nodded breathlessly. “Yeah? You need me to fuck you hard with this thick cock?”

You were trembling all over again, practically at a loss for words as you nodded up at him, whimpering a final, desperate “Please.” Jake bit his lip, your eyes locking as he nodded at you in a manner that looked like a promise. His hands found the waistband of his boxer briefs, keeping his gaze directly on you, watching your expression hungrily as he pulled them down with one sharp tug. The sound that escaped your lips was downright obscene as your gaze fell to take him in. No matter how many times you laid eyes on Jake’s cock, he still left you goddamn speechless. Thick, hard, and slick with precum, the sight alone was enough to render you essentially wordless with sheer need. Your gaze traveled over him. The coins dangling from his necklace hung enticingly over his heaving chest, his hair falling angelically over his shoulders as he gave his cock another squeeze, this time without even a thin barrier of fabric in the way— and his eyes fluttered a bit as he took in a sharp inhale, your mind reeling at the way the involuntary response betrayed his obvious desire. And after a moment of heart-stopping, delicious anticipation, the tension burst.

All of a sudden, Jake was over you again, taking your thigh in his left hand, grabbing at it with his large fingers and spreading your legs open even wider, an involuntary moan falling from your lips at the way he was manhandling you. His face hovered above yours as his right hand worked his cock, lining it up in front of your entrance, his mouth falling open to mirror the way your jaw had dropped with overwhelming need. When he spoke, his voice was husky and low. “Don’t worry, sweet girl… I’m going to fuck you exactly how you need it.”

You barely had time to process his filthy words before he was rubbing the head of his cock up and down your pussy, not only teasing you but also himself, causing the both of you to let out overlapping moans as you grabbed at him. The need, the ache, the throbbing desire was so intense it was practically painful— you could hardly take it anymore. Voice breaking with desperation, you whimpered out, “Fuck, Jake… fill me up, baby, please… stretch me out, I need your cock, baby… please… please…”

Jake groaned, letting out a raspy, “My beautiful little slut… god, you beg so pretty… gonna give it to you… gonna give my baby what she needs.” And before you had another moment to beg, Jake was pushing all the way in, his fat cock stretching out every inch of your dripping pussy, causing you to let out a cry of utter ecstasy as your back arched up off the bed. The long, breathy groan that he let out simultaneously had you practically lightheaded, his lips parting with bliss at the feeling of burying himself within you.

He didn’t tease, didn’t hold back. Perhaps it was because he shared in the desperation you were feeling; the burning desire, the ineffable force pulling the two of you closer together. Jake pulled his hips back, before slamming back into you in one solid thrust, using the entire force of his body weight. The pleasure was so immediate and so overwhelming that you saw stars, unable to hold back a moan that could only be described as pornographic, as Jake’s grip on your thigh tightened. His free hand found your shoulder, pressing down and pinning you to the mattress as he began to hammer into you at a pace that left your eyes rolling back, getting leverage from the tightness of his grip and the steadiness of his rhythm.

“Fucking goddamn, my baby takes it so well… every fucking inch I’ve got for you…” Jake was groaning, gritting his teeth as beads of sweat dripped from his forehead onto yours. You were whimpering at his pace, begging him not to stop, curses falling from your lips again and again. Layered underneath your overlapping voices, the room echoed with the sound of skin against skin, Jake’s firm pelvis and soft tummy smacking up against you with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, Jakey, feels so good,” you were gasping, wrapping your legs around him to allow him to hit even deeper— and when he hit the perfect angle, hammering up against your sweet spot with every thrust at an expertly kept rhythm, you cried out again, even louder this time, clenching involuntarily around Jake’s cock and making him groan. You hardly recognized your own shaky, desperate voice as you whimpered a broken, “Oh, God, just like that…” 

“Yeah? Just like that?” Jake encouraged darkly, his own building pleasure evident in the heaviness of his breaths, the redness of his cheeks, the way his beautiful hair grew damp with sweat. “My good girl loves getting fucked like a slut…” his words causing another strangled moan to escape you as he continued, “Fuck, you’re squeezing my fucking dick, baby… You’re getting close, aren’t you? Is my pretty, dirty girl gonna cum again…?”

You were nodding as hard as you could, barely able to speak through the overwhelming pleasure. Heat was building in your core, fueled not only by Jake’s hard thrusts but also his penetrating gaze and breathy, raspy moans. “Don’t stop,” you found yourself whining, your grip on Jake tightening as you threw your head back, so overcome that you squeezed your eyes shut, struggling to find the words. “So close, fuck, feels so good…”

“Shit, this fucking pussy…” Jake was moaning, growing more breathless by the moment. You knew the indicative signs; the furrowing of his brows, the shift in his rhythm, the way his raspy tone transformed into something almost desperate. You weren’t the only one getting close, and when your gaze met his again, you saw the need and recognition in his eyes— he knew that you could tell his own proximity to the edge.

“Inside me,” you whimpered, answering a question he hadn’t yet verbalized, and Jake groaned, nodding hard as you continued, “Want you to fill me up, Jakey, please…”

“Gonna make you mine… gonna fill this sweet fucking cunt,” Jake’s voice was practically trembling through its huskiness, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and flushed cheeks as he thrusted into you again and again. “Gonna fuck my baby full as she’s cummin’ on my cock—”

“Fuck, please,” you were moaning, practically sobbing, feeling yourself grow closer and closer, the pleasure growing more intense by the moment— and as if reading your mind, Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his expert fingers circling your clit at a truly devastating speed. Within seconds of having both his fingers and cock spoiling your pussy all at once, you lost all control. You were suddenly overtaken by a level of bliss that was damn near incomprehensible, practically screaming Jake’s name as you gushed onto his cock, clenching uncontrollably around him. At this, Jake’s eyes rolled back and he groaned out the most beautiful string of expletives as he gave you exactly what you wanted, filling your cunt with his cum and maintaining his pace to ensure that your mutual orgasms lasted as long as possible.

You clung to Jake as you rode out your high, struck by wave after wave of full-body pleasure that was only amplified by the symphony of moans and breathy curses falling from Jake’s lips, the way he was gasping and sighing as the two of you, slowly but surely, began to come down from the peak of bliss. Finally, Jake collapsed onto you, sighing with satisfaction and burying his face in your neck. After only a  moment, he was peppering soft, chaste kisses across your skin, in every spot he could reach. Giggling, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, which had grown damp in his exertion. It must have been at least a minute or two before you were able to find your words, and even then, all you were able to manage at first was, “Holy shit, Jake.”

Jake let out a giggle of his own against your neck, and your heart swelled as he lifted his head to look at you. Those warm brown eyes, melting you all over again, held your gaze with so much affection as he grinned, shaking his head incredulously. “Wow. God, baby… you’re unbelievable.”

“Guess I should tease you more often, then,” you giggled, reaching up to catch Jake’s chin between your fingers as he smiled playfully at you. 

“Well, after that, I’m definitely not saying no…” Jake teased back, making you grin cheekily in response.That was when he leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing you tenderly, softly. Lovingly. 

You were overcome by how much you cared about him. How safe he made you feel. Throughout the kiss, you couldn’t help but focus on the feeling of Jake’s heartbeat, pressed up against yours. Beating in time.

When he finally pulled back, it took a moment for you to be able to come back to yourself, to open your eyes again. Jake was gazing at you with such reverence, such awe.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly, reaching out to trace a finger along your cheekbone, making you giggle shyly, heat rising in your cheeks all over again.

“Oh, Jake…” you sighed breathlessly, placing your hand over his where it rested cupping your cheek. “I love you. So much more than I could ever put into words.”

His smile was radiant. “I love you, baby… and I find new reasons to fall for you every day.” He leaned in to kiss you once more, and this one was even slower, sleepier. It was a kiss that felt like home.

After a long while of losing yourself in Jake’s lips, you felt yourself starting to grow drowsy, sleepiness beginning to beckon to you. Jake’s touches were soft, gentle. You couldn’t help it; he was just such a calming presence.

“I want to stay just like this,” you murmured, yawning a bit after your words before adding, “Someone made sure I was all tired out…” making Jake giggle affectionately as he pressed more gentle kisses to your cheeks.

Jake’s voice was soft when he replied, smiling between his tender kisses, “I think that can be arranged, baby.”

Feeling so held, so warm in his embrace, you closed your eyes, cuddling into Jake, breathing him in. Between soft kisses and whispered nothings, it wasn’t long before the two of you fell asleep, fully intertwined. Ready for whatever adventure tomorrow had in store.

//

TAGLIST: @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @sparrowofthedawnsworld @gold-mines-melting @texas-bbq-pringles @mountain-in-springtime @alwaysonthemend @tripthelightfatality @runwayblues @shutupdevvie @godly-sinsx @sacredjake @ignite-my-fire @kiska-enthusiast @songbirds-sweet @via-fm @wetkleenex-gvf @jaketsparrow @rhythm-of-space @the-starcatcher @fuckyoutommie @earthlysorrows @ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @jenniferkiszka @hollyco @starcatcher-jake @lipstickitty @iamawhoreandnotproud @kissthesun-gvf @vanfleeter @mybussyinchrist @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @psychedelicstardust-gvf @readyforthegarden

Author's Note: If you want to be added to my taglist, you can do that right here! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰 All my love, Li xoxo

[gilbertscurls]

I need a fic of dad!matt x reader with their kids Halloween 😩 I just know he’d go all out for his kids. Carving pumpkins, dressing up with them, posing with them for all the cute photos, taking them trick or treating, and letting them eat too much candy while they watch a family movie together to end the night 🧡🧡🧡🥰🥰🥰

a bit late, but hope you like it! <3

Trick or Treat ➵ Matt Sturniolo

It was late October, and the air had turned crisp with a hint of autumn leaves drifting on the wind. Halloween was only a day away, and your house was buzzing with excitement. Matt had been planning for this day since the beginning of the month. Halloween was practically his Super Bowl, and with June, Luna, and Cody to celebrate with, he was more than ready to go all out.

Morning: Pumpkin Carving

You were just finishing breakfast when you saw Matt bringing in a bunch of pumpkins he’d picked out—three for the kids and one large one for him to carve alongside them. The twins, June and Luna, let out squeals of excitement, while Cody clapped his chubby little hands from his high chair, eyes wide at the sight of the bright orange pumpkins.

“Alright, who’s ready to make the best jack-o’-lanterns on the block?” Matt grinned, rubbing his hands together like a mischievous villain.

The girls jumped up and down, yelling, “Us! Us!” Cody let out an enthusiastic shriek, waving his arms, clearly just as excited even if he didn’t quite understand what was going on yet.

You set up a little pumpkin carving station outside, laying out newspaper, tools, and aprons for the kids. Matt took it upon himself to help each child scoop out the pumpkin guts, laughing with them as they giggled at the squishy, slimy texture.

“Look, Daddy! Mine has a silly face!” Luna said proudly, pointing at the big grin she’d managed to make with Matt’s help.

“Mine’s scary!” June chimed in, showing off her pumpkin with jagged teeth and big eyes.

Meanwhile, Cody had managed to get more pumpkin on himself than in his own pumpkin, his hands and face smeared with the orange goop. Matt chuckled, reaching over to clean him up, though he couldn’t resist taking a few pictures of Cody in his messy pumpkin glory.

Finally, with everyone’s pumpkins carved and ready, you helped Matt set them up on the front porch. As the kids admired their work, you snuck a glance at Matt, who was looking proudly at the three little pumpkins lined up in a row.

“They did such a good job, didn’t they?” he said, voice soft with pride.

“They really did,” you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. Watching Matt with the kids always filled you with such warmth, and it was clear this was the kind of thing he’d dreamed about for years.

Afternoon: Costume Time

When the pumpkin carving was done, it was time for the next big event—costumes. Matt had spent weeks coordinating a family costume theme, and after much deliberation, he’d settled on a classic: you and he would be superheroes, while the kids would be their little sidekicks.

The twins squealed with excitement as they put on their matching capes and tiny masks. Cody was in his own little onesie costume, and even though he was too young to understand what was happening, he seemed to love all the attention. You and Matt donned your superhero outfits, complete with matching capes and masks, looking every bit the dynamic duo alongside your little team.

Once everyone was dressed, Matt insisted on taking photos. He set up the camera and posed with each kid individually, then with all of you together, his grin wider than ever as he held Cody on one arm and the twins held onto his other hand.

“Alright, everyone say ‘BOO!’” he shouted, and you all did, laughing as the camera snapped.

Evening: Trick-or-Treating

Finally, it was time for trick-or-treating. As the sun began to set, you and Matt took the kids out around the neighborhood, joining a crowd of families walking from door to door, bags in hand. Matt was in his element, showing off the kids’ costumes to neighbors and encouraging them to say “trick-or-treat” at every doorstep.

June and Luna took turns shouting “Trick or treat!” while Cody toddled along, holding Matt’s hand as he tried to keep up with his older sisters. Every time he received a piece of candy, his eyes lit up, and he looked up at Matt with an expression of pure delight.

When you stopped by a house decorated with spooky lights and a fog machine, Matt playfully crouched down, pretending to be scared. “Whoa, look at that! So spooky!” he said, feigning terror.

The girls giggled, and June tugged on his sleeve, reassuring him, “It’s okay, Daddy, we’ll protect you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Matt pretending to be scared for their amusement, his goofy grin showing just how much he loved every second of this night.

By the time you made it back home, their candy bags were bursting, and their eyes were wide with excitement despite the sleepy expressions starting to show.

Night: Family Movie and Candy Overload

Back home, you helped the kids get out of their costumes, washing off any lingering makeup and getting them settled into pajamas. Matt grabbed a few bowls and let each of them pick out their favorite candies to munch on as you all snuggled up on the couch for a Halloween movie marathon.

With Cody cuddled on Matt’s lap and the twins curled up beside you, the family movie night began. You all watched as classic Halloween cartoons played on the screen, with the kids giggling and gasping at the spooky but silly scenes.

When the movie ended, Matt leaned over, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at the three kids, all nodding off one by one. He gently tucked Cody into the crook of his arm and helped guide the girls’ heads to lean against you, their eyes closing as they fell asleep, their little hands still clutching half-eaten pieces of candy.

You looked at him, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “This was the perfect Halloween, Matt.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “It really was. I’d do this every night if it meant seeing them this happy.”

You leaned against him, watching the kids as they slept, candy wrappers and empty bowls surrounding you, and in that moment, you knew that these were the moments you’d remember forever.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Yo! Adrian

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: It's finally here, the LAST CHAPTER! What a journey this has been from a silly little oneshot to a whole fucking series that so many people have sent me so many kind messages and fanart of 💕 I'm so excited that I get to share this with you, and I'm so glad that I've been able to complete it and give you guys a full story. Thank you so so much to everyone that has sent me their support and kept the story going. Love you all sm, please let me know what you think whn you're done. I can't wait to see your reactions ✨🥰

Part 10 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️- 

You swore you could feel König’s fingers caressing your face. 

You could feel his heavy digits tracing over every tiny pore and for a second you could breathe calmly, you felt light. In the shadow of his phantom’s presence you smiled airily and thought of better times. It was as if a rift had opened in the room and you were no longer part of it, you were somewhere far away and lying in an unfamiliar bed, naked under the pale sheets in the shine of moonlight.

Just like always, you fell into each other's arms and drank in each other’s bodies just as greedily as the last time you’d met. His heady piney scent would soothe your tired nerves and his hands would roam your body, chasing off every stray piece of worry that dared linger. It was your memories of comfort that you were clinging onto the most, holding them high above your head as you sunk into the depths of your mind, cold flesh tingling with the thought of König’s fiery warmth. 

You weren’t in some hole in the middle of nowhere. You were with him. 

There’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you.

You kept repeating those words over and over in your mind, throat constricting as you remembered those whispered promises that he’d given to you in your bunk. He was with you, you and he were joined together inextricably. It didn’t matter if he was actually there or if you were simply losing your mind to lack of sleep and sustenance, he was with you always. 

All of a sudden König’s fingers stroked a wave across your cheek, a thin airy line that swung across your face like a breeze. It made you frown. What was he doing? Was he playing a game with you? It was so late, you both needed to sleep. Why was he doing this? 

When you opened your eyes again, it was as if you’d been woken into hell. Rousseau grinned down at you, his metal pole hanging loosely from his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Reality was breaking down in front of your eyes, pieces of it glitching in your peripherals. The bedsheets and moonlight fell away and all you were left with was your dirty sheet in the middle of a crusty smelling shithole bunker. 

“Where’s… wh- where’s König?” you croaked.

Getting those words out was like fighting through a sandstorm to talk. Your throat had never been so scratchy, and your head was so clouded and heavy. Everything was such a jumble you couldn’t understand how you were lying with König one moment and then back with Rousseau again tje next, it didn’t make sense. 

“What’ve you done with him?” you cried, swaying with the effort it took to speak. “Where’s König!”

Rousseau shook his head and nudged your shoulder with his weapon, the thick metal bar barely even prodded you and you were sent spiralling. Your body tipped like a glass full of water and you spilled onto the floor, lurching onto your hands and knees as soon as you were able. Though you were shaking helplessly even as you steadied yourself, it felt like your muscles were rapidly atrophying in real time, tearing apart and wasting away like bean bag stuffing pouring from a tear. 

“You’re not doing very well, hm?” Rousseau taunted, walking around your pathetic crawling form. “There is no König here. Just you and the Captain, Sergeant.”

The way he said König, it sounded like a curse. 

You shrank back at his spitting venom and swallowed the bile that threatened to erupt upward from your throat. It was all too much. You couldn’t understand where you were anymore, couldn’t remember what was happening. 

You closed your eyes and opened them again, executing the world’s slowest blink. Finally looking around properly, you saw Rousseau and when you swivelled you saw his faithful guard dogs, the men that always seemed to haunt the corners of your vision. A further glance had you finding Price on his knees, swaying gently as he tried miserably to stay upright. He was dancing to the same sick death drum that you were. 

Your eyes lit up in recognition. 

“You were…I was…you were going to kill me,” you said dumbly, holding your head as you rose to your knees. “Why do you keep playing with us like this?”

Rousseau stood in front of you and tilted his head, watchful dark eyes cascading down your shivering body. It was like looking back at a bear. A vicious giant towering above you, threatening to charge at any second and shred you to pieces. Though he never did. He always stopped just before he could truly break you. 

Break your body anyway. You were more convinced by the day that your mind was gone.

“Are you really so eager to die, Sergeant?” He questioned.

His voice was light, playful as a cat batting a mouse around.

“You recorded a video teeing up for a final death blow…It doesn’t look very good if I’m said to be alive after that. Makes your threats look empty.”

Rousseau raised an eyebrow. His gaunt features slackened, but he didn’t look as angry as one might expect a scorned warlord to look. It seemed more like he was considering his next move carefully. Probably gauging what you could take after everything you’d endured already. 

“You think I don’t mean to kill you?”

His voice had a harder edge to it now.

“I think that you’ve taken far too long to do it.”

It was true. As much as you still clung to the hope of rescue, you knew well enough that being constantly on the move between decrepit holes and dank pits meant that you weren’t going to be easily tracked. The only other release you could be certain of was death, and at the stage you were at, it felt like it’d be a mercy. 

Your stomach constantly ached with clawing hunger, the kind that had you hallucinating little hands inside your belly - scraping at the lining just to try and find scraps. Your lips were dry and cracked and your eyes were always struggling to stay open. Your lids weighed so heavy on you, your entire body did in fact. It was becoming more and more of a chore just to keep breathing, nevermind trading barbs with the torturer in chief. 

Soon you’d be as out of it as Price was. 

“You are a government dog. All you know is ‘go fetch’,” Rousseau said eventually, straying from your side and leisurely working his way over to Price. “You do things quick and dirty. We are playing the long game, I am building something, I’m heading a revolution. Those aren’t built on quick decisions - no, they are chess moves. I am just aligning my pieces.”

He came to a stop behind Price’s back, his long legs were almost touching Price’s bare body, his black trousers were almost the same colour as some of your poor captain's bruises. Rousseau still held the length of metal piping in his hands, he was swinging it gently in his grip, meaningfully gazing at you and down to the bat. You stared between them from under your hooded eyelids and licked your lips.

What was he going to do?

You winced when you heard the crack. 

“Sneak,” Price gasped.

He tumbled forward, his back crumbling as he’d taken on another hit. The Captain's mangled body was only getting worse by the hour, his cuts were weeping again and his bruises looked like animal markings, like something that had become inherently part of him. You had no idea how he was still going. 

Even still, you flew forward and urged him up, looking into his tired eyes and trying to coax him back. At least if he was up he couldn’t be trampled. You’d learned that lesson the hard way. 

Price gripped your arm and you huffed under the weight, almost screaming as you tried to keep his body aloft with what little strength you had left. His roughened fingers were scraping at your papery thin skin and you clenched your teeth while you fought to balance him. It was getting harder and harder to set him right with every time he fell, but no matter what you’d keep doing it. 

Even while you’d gone against his orders he still held you up and made you keep fighting. It was only fair that you did the same in return. 

“Price? Price, are you ok? Price?”

He took a moment to reply. His body wobbled a little, threatening to tip again, but he righted himself in the last minute, his scruffy jaw almost swinging as he gasped in a breath. 

“Sneak, you’ve gotta shut the fuck up,” he coughed.

You almost laughed despite the situation. 

“Affirmative,” you grimaced, resting against him as you managed to work out a delicate balancing act. 

“Wait a minute now, Captain,” Rousseau tutted, signalling for his men to come forward. “You should welcome your Sergeant’s words. I’ve spared Sneak for now, but the next video is your final as a pair. I have something special planned…but all in good time. For now you can go back to your crate, dogs.”

The two of you stared at him, looking up through your tired gazes. The news didn’t feel shocking, you’d expected to die minutes ago so you hadn’t been holding out hope to steal time for much longer. It almost felt like a relief for a moment to know that you could be certain of something.

Though the relief didn’t last long. Not when his men finally reached you both and yanked you apart, dragging you along the floor like a couple of retired mannequins. Your skin burned with the familiar feeling of loose gravel and it didn’t take long until you were seething, clawing at the man’s gloved hand just to try and stop his forceful grip. It never ever seemed to help though.

“Try not to get yourself killed from fighting back. It would ruin the plans I have for you, Sergeant!”

The blanket that had previously been slouched on your back was now tangled around your waist. It was gathering itself between your legs and around your hips, snaking around you in a boa like grip. It might’ve felt like a relief earlier on in your time, but you knew well enough the men weren’t bothering about your state of dress, they never did. They would always drag you through the halls kicking and screaming, clothesless and dirty, feral as a child of the forest. Somehow the indignity faded with time, lost to the hurt you were drowning under. 

You looked up at the man and his smug bearded face and snarled. You soon took to scrabbling against the floor and trying to get as much purchase as you could. If you fought hard enough maybe you could work yourself into a semi crawl by the his side, relieve the burning of your back and feet. The man wasn’t having it though. 

He kicked at your legs and threw your arm away, sending you reeling and knocking into the dark wall by the doorway. Your jumbled head was spinning when you slammed into the concrete. The dim flickering light danced in your eyes and after a few blinks, you regained enough vision to see the man advancing back towards you. You cowered. 

You feebly stuck your arms in front of you, blocking your face and hunching up just to try and protect yourself. Even if you thought it was useless, even if you’d tried to do the same thing many times already and failed. You tried anyway.

“You don’t follow orders well, soldier,” Rousseau scolded, voice full of amusement. 

He had no idea. 

His lackey’s steps barrelled toward you, he shouted something in french and with each ricocheting sound that slapped your ears, you shook like a mast in a storm. You shook, but still you cursed at the man, you cursed at Rousseau and you peaked through your makeshift body shield and cursed at the guard dragging Price away.

No matter what they did to you, you revelled in the fact that one day they would be caught. One day König would catch up to them, he and the remaining numbers in the 141 would crash in and they would draw ten times the blood that Rousseau ever could. They would wreak the kind of revenge you would’ve chewed König out for only months ago. 

And you would celebrate it now. 

You gritted your teeth and braced, the man was only steps away from you. Rousseau was smirking to himself in the background, metal pipe discarded as he stood with his arms crossed just as casually as if he were catching the tail end of a sitcom. You waited for the hit. You tensed every screaming muscle in your frail body and shut your eyes tight, scrunching your face in full knowing of the hurt you were about to feel. 

Your heart beat furiously. You waited. 

Boom

The entire room shook and you were sent sprawling and coughing into the smoky darkness. Dust swirled around your eyes and seconds later the room went completely pitch dark. You blinked. 

Was this another of your hallucinations?

Were they really getting that vivid? 

This felt real. 

All of a sudden you were being yanked up and you screamed. Your arm felt like it had been pulled out of its socket and then replaced about five thousand times. It was sheer agony. Though you didn’t have the strength to fight the force. Instead you went along with it, crying out at whoever it was that was taking you further into the darkness. 

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

The voice confirmed it. The voice and the heavy metal weapon that struck your jaw. 

Rousseau had taken you from your heap and was now ragdolling through the doorway, stealing you both through the trembling tunnels like a wraith. You had no idea how he was able to navigate the place so smoothly with a fighting captive and sheer darkness and yet he was doing it anyway. Unfortunately for you. 

“Come! Gather the Captian!”

More explosions sounded overhead, gunshots rung out like hailstones hitting the ground, all muted and dull. Somewhere up above you there was a fucking massive firefight. The realisation had you grinning from ear to ear, even as blood sluiced from your split mouth. 

With the very little brain capacity you had, even you were able to figure out who it was that was up there. 

Your stomach was churning and your legs were barely able to crank themselves one in front of the other, but still you knew that König was close. You swore you could sense him even through the concrete. Somewhere in the battering of rock and scream of metal you could sense the six foot, ten inches of vengeance tearing up the ground overhead.

“König,” you choked.

Maybe you were going to make it.

You were tugged furiously forward. 

“No one can help you now. Snivelling like that will only make your death worse” Rousseau seethed.

You frowned, stumbling forward only moments later. You tripped over a gap in the flooring and pinwheeled forward, falling through the darkness and onto the ground once again. 

You shook your head, but before you could even think of recovering, you were blinded by a sudden shock of light. You let out a howling wail and covered your eyes, reeling as you tried to deal with the shock of it all.

Your head was pounding, the gunshots in the distance were relentlessly clashing with the swelling in your head. Your eyes felt like they might roll backwards through their sockets. Your nose was overwhelmed with thick dust, your throat was clogged with it too. Your ears were practically shrivelling with the wall of sound. 

All of it combined was sensory overload. 

You blacked out for a moment, temporarily lost. You saw König through flashes, but you knew it wasn’t really him. It couldn’t be. König wouldn’t just stand there, he’d be pulling you up into his arms and taking you away. He wouldn’t watch on as you were dragged around in that new level of hell. 

You blinked back through the spots and the flashes of unreality and you were greeted with the sight of a union jack unfurling high above you. The fabric unfurled like an angry ghost and your eyes were filled with dancing red white and blue. The lines didn’t seem to stay still, they were crossing and uncrossing, blurring softly in and out of focus. 

“What…what are you-”

“What did I tell you? Shut the fuck up!”

The metal pipe came down on your head once more and you gasped at the pressure, losing the breath from your lungs. You sprawled out like a bearskin rug and pasted yourself to the floor, watching dead eyed as Price was thrown by your side. He was equally as jelly-boned as you. 

“What are you doing?” you whispered, too done in to follow the directions you were given. 

Rousseau musn’t have heard you though. You followed the swelling blob that you assumed to be him and watched as it adjusted something and then gathered something else. Fuck. You were too fried to see what was happening. Everything was tinged in red, white and blue, nothing was solid, nothing felt real. 

Well, except maybe the blood that was still threatening to drown you. You hacked away at that and sobbed lightly, feeling the tears dribbling pathetically down your cheeks. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised that you weren’t going to live through this afterall. Even if you did, was there going to be much of you left? 

Rousseau only confirmed your suspicions as he marched forward and tugged you up by your neck. You screamed and flailed with every little shred of energy you had left, but still it wasn’t enough. He was strangling you with something, wrapping something around your throat while he batted off your hands.

“No! No! No! No! N-” you choked until you couldn’t anymore. 

The thing was tightened around you and soon he didn’t have to hold you anymore. You gazed upwards and watched in horror as a long snaking line of rope was yanked upward - with you along with it. 

The choking and hacking only got worse from that point on. Your throat was constricting, you were flapping like a headless chicken. The pressure was threatening to burst your eyeballs, but even still you were cursed to see, cursed to watch. 

Price was being dragged the same as you, muscles twitching and head swaying like a lolling buoy. The camera was in front of you both, red light blinking ominously from the other end of the room. Rousseau was swinging his arms around and he was proselytising as always, sounding somehow even more passionate than usual. His voice was screeching and booming all at once, it filled the room and attacked the camera, it sent you swinging in his grasp. 

“...and now this is what they die for! They may capture me, but they will never prevail! They will only turn to ash, while we burn on forever!”

Out of the corner of your bulging eyes you could see the flag behind you set alight. You gawped at it like a flapping fish, tongue flailing around uselessly even as you continued to fight the rope. It was no use. Your vision was almost completely fading now, black was corrupting the edges and inch by inch it was taking over completely. Your body was losing its strength. Your arms fell limply to their sides.

“Nein!”

A scream of terrible anguish filled your senses. Your body slumped down. The darkness in your eyes receded for a moment. 

Boots filled your eyes, you coughed roughly upon seeing them, shocked as the two sets of feet got all too close to coming down on your head. The leading set stopped in their tracks and turned, forcing the other set of feet to back away before any final blow could come. You closed your eyes a moment and focused on hauling in tiny lungfuls of air, coughing like an old hag with every dying choke, but nevertheless you took those painful breaths in like they were bitter medicine. 

“You will pay! I will rip you apart, I will stick a knife through every nerve you have! You will suffer for what you’ve done, you self righteous sack of shit!”

You widened your eyes and even through the terrible pain you were fighting, you roared through it and forced your head up. You knew that voice, you knew that high pitched screaming growl. The sight of him only confirmed it. 

Was it really…were you dreaming again?

You blinked furiously and choked on a sob. Please don’t be dreaming, please don’t be dreaming. The mantra filled your mind and expanded into every little piece of you. Even through the dizziness and the labouring of your struggling body, you could recognise that man out of anywhere, you could’ve recognised him in the pitch black of the blown out tunnel. 

König was laying into Rousseau with the fury of a wounded lion. He rammed him into the wall and forced his head into the concrete over and over, the sound of sickening smack managed to break through the barrier of fuzz in your ears. It managed to break through König’s garbled screaming. Even in your broken state the site brought on an unwilling half smile that came slinking sickeningly from your subconscious.

“Don’t you dare move, don’t you dare do anything but keep breathing! You don’t get to leave this world until I make you regret ever seeing the light of your first day! Do you hear me? Your fight is finished!”

König threw Rousseau to the ground and brought his shining black boot hard down into his stomach. Rousseau panted out, a wormy little gasp broke past his lips but nothing more. He was forced to lie flat on the floor, torn between clutching at his cracked head and his flattened belly. The man who had towered over you had finally been brought down, turned into debris. 

You could hardly believe it. You couldn’t move for the shock. You just stared at Rousseau,  wide eyed, unflinching through the battlefield of pain that raged through every muscle and bone from within you. Somewhere above you were sure you could recognise your name being called, but everything was too fuzzy, the inky darkness was taking over, drawing you into its loving embrace. The dust was settling, your heartbeat was stilling. Everything coalesced into one feeling. Relief. 

You’d have never have felt that way before after seeing something so unnecessarily violent, but after all you’d been through… you weren’t so sure you could bring yourself to be upset. 

“…Darling please look at me.”

The faint whisper broke through your spaced out sound barrier. It was anguished, the voice it came from was hoarse and panting. So much emotion was poured into it, it couldn’t help but wash away the patina of death’s touch.

“Sneak, it can’t end like this. You told me you would come to Austria, yeah? You said you’d let me show you home. You have lots still to do. Look at me. Look at me! You said we’d make it through together Sneak, I’m not going to let you get away from me, do you hear me? Look at me!”

You forced your eyes to flicker upward, trying in vain to settle them on your saviour. The light in the room was so bright though, and his face- no his mask was so dark. You could only make out blackness and dark streaks of red. 

You grit your teeth and shuttered your eyes, blinking a few times until you could see König’s own big wet eyes staring forlornly down at you. You smiled then.

“It..is…you,” you croaked, voice all but useless from your injuries. “Not…dreaming.”

His eyes lit up at your garbled words, the dim blue puddles turned to shining icy lakes. The corners of your mouth lifted heavily into a pained smile. Those eyes didn’t lie, they weren’t figments of your imagination. This was real, you thought to yourself. Even if you might die, you still got to see him again, you got to look into his eyes again and hear his voice and bathe in the warmth of his presence. 

“No, you’re not dreaming,” König confirmed, hastily looking from you and to your surroundings, “you can't dream now, you have to listen to me, you mustn't close your eyes. Hold on for me, darling.”

“Kö…Kön-”

You launched into an ugly coughing fit, your head lit up an alarm system. System failure, everything was red. Your concentration broke and already you disobeyed König. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the hacking and choking. It felt like your lungs were closing, like they were balloons getting filled so completely they might pop. Every nerve, every wound, every cell in your body was on fire. 

You just wanted it to end. Why couldn’t the suffering end?

“Shh, c’mon breathe. Darling, breathe for me and take control. C’mon! Breathe for me!”

König drew you into his arms and wrapped something thick and warm around you. It might’ve been a comfort if not for the sparkling firecracker that was being set off in your chest. The endless coughing that was tearing up through your throat. 

Tears filled your eyes. No matter how much you wanted to cling to life, if even just for König, you weren’t sure you were strong enough. You weren’t even sure how you’d made it that far to begin with. Raw hope, you’d supposed. Though it didn’t feel like enough anymore. The agony was too much. 

“Sneak, you have to hold on,” König pleaded, rubbing his hands as firmly as your battered back would allow. “Please…don’t leave me alone.”

Dammit. 

You wheezed and cried, clenching your fists with all your might. Your ears rang with a high pitched sound, something you imagined to be angel screams ripping through your ears. You were turning away from death and running, you were sprinting towards life again, toward the scrabbling ugly beast that ran through the chambers of your crumbling body and clawed down at the walls. Pain. 

You gulped in what felt like a litre of air and held on, falling silent for a second until you slowly let it go and felt quiet once again. König’s arms stiffened around you, you could feel his fingers carving grooves into the melted clay of your skin. 

“Sneak?”

You opened your eyes again and settled them on König’s, blinking a few times so that he could still see proof of your presence. He didn’t look as relieved as he did the first time, but there was still a glimmer of hope in his face, still detectable no matter how small. His breaths seemed to resume too, you could see the faint puff start up from behind the dark material of his hood. 

“Sneak! Price!” A voice broke through the strangled calm. 

You blinked again and directed your eyes toward the sound, only daring to crack your neck just a little so that you could see. It was Gaz.. Well, Gaz and Soap. Gaz was thundering over to Price in seconds, squatting over him and grabbing at him, begging him to come to. However Soap was torn, he was frozen in silent horror in the doorway, barely there even as he stood. His face seemed to hollow as he surveyed the two camps that filled the room, though something dark seemed to fill him again when he settled on looking between your groups. 

He was looking at Rousseau. 

“Soap, help me with Price!” Gaz demanded.

He didn’t listen to Kyle. He ignored him in fact and strided over to the centre of the room, grinding to a stop in front of Rousseau’s unconscious body. He knelt down and checked for a pulse, lips pursing when he must’ve found what he was looking for. Still alive, you guessed. 

Why else would he be pulling zip ties from his back pocket? You hazily watched as he tightened them soundly around his wrists and ankles, double checking each one.

“He seems to be alive. How’re they?” Soap grunted, shooting over to Gaz and settling at Price’s other side. “König, how’s Sneak?”

Watching everyone felt like streaming on a bad connection, your vision was lagging, the frames kept flickering. It was a struggle to concentrate on their movements and breathe at the same time. You were faltering toward the darkness again. 

“Not good,” König whined, tightening his embrace on you. “Sneak’s fading fast, we have to get out of here and get to a medic.”

“Price isnt much better,” Gaz grunted, huffing as he lifted Price into a standing position.

Just then another shadow filled the room, it grew and stretched from the doorway like a blight. 

“Alright, halls are clear. How’re we looking in here?”

Ghost’s gruff voice echoed off the chalky walls. He looked between you all, eyes darting around and checking in on everyone, gun angled low to the ground. He looked like he was ready to destroy an entire army, his eyes were set hard and his stance was tense and ready. He was breathing fast.

“Bad. We gotta go,” Soap answered.

“Fucks sakes, get Price covered will you?” Ghost growled, throwing one of the discarded blankets toward Gaz and Soap. 

You looked down at yourself then, only suddenly realising that König had stuck you into one of his sweaters earlier. He must’ve brought it knowing that you’d be naked…he’d seen the videos. A grim thought took hold after. At least if you’d died then, you weren’t dying knowing that everyone was staring at your naked body anymore.

“Wrong thing to fuss over, mate,” Price coughed, finally piping up after his long silence. “We just need to get out of here - quick.”

He sounded better than you for once. They clearly hadn’t been choking him quite so badly during the filming, he sounded reasonably clear after everything he’d been through. He accepted the blanket that was being draped over him nonetheless, but it was hard not to spot the annoyance that overtook him. His brows were knit together tight. 

“We’ll get out, Price, we’ve got things handled,” Ghost assured, finally strapping his gun onto his back. “König, is Sneak going to be alright? Can you get them back to transport?”

“Yes,” König answered, his response harsh through his gritted teeth. “I’ll get Sneak back.”

“Good. I’ll handle Rousseau.”

The way that Ghost said that sounded like Rousseau might not make it back to the transport with the rest of you. Not that you could argue sense into him. Your vocal chords were fried. Though even if they weren’t, you couldn’t be sure you’d have much strength to speak. Your body felt like it was balancing on a knife’s edge, swaying too and fro between darkness and life. 

Closing your eyes and accepting darkness wasn’t an option however. You had to keep fighting. You kept blinking furiously and breathed in however much air your struggling lungs would allow you to. You focused on your heartbeats, clung to König’s hard body and willed yourself to keep going. You weren’t going to let yourself fade out. You couldn’t face knowing that you’d leave him alone, couldn’t face knowing you’d break your promise. 

“Darling, I know you’ve been through so much, but you have to hold on for a bit longer, ok?” König whispered.

His mouth was lowered to your ear. You could feel the roughened material of his hood caressing your skin, lighting a fuse just beneath the surface. You could feel it feathering through to the surface of your skull.  

“Ok,” you whispered. 

He stood up at that, your single utterance spurring him on and forcing him to go. Unfortunately you didn’t feel quite the same way, in fact you screamed out raggedly the moment you were forced to change position. It had him apologising furiously in your ear, but you could only shake your head at him, urging him on with a faded look. 

“Just stay with me, Sneak.”

You nodded your head this time, though it was easier promised than done. You were aware that König was taking you through the shot up hallways, but you knew yourself that you weren’t staying conscious the whole way. 

There were entire sections that seemed to be cleared without your knowledge. Some moments you’d only just be turning corners and the next you would bob your head past König’s shoulder and acknowledge an entire straight corridor behind you both. 

Hold on. 

You continued to blink sleepily and breathe. 

Don’t leave me alone. 

Time ran like slow honey. Each breath seemed to span hours. König was talking to you, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was he was saying. They seemed like affirmations, you were sure at some point he was promising to buy you things from that deli that you liked in town, but you weren’t awake for long to hear it. 

Towards the end you must’ve been gone for a solid few minutes. You went from almost total darkness then violently awoke to four terrified faces surrounding you at once, all bathed in the yellow light of day like they were standing under buttercups. There was a whirring sound all around you and your body felt like it was smothered in bubble wrap. You could hardly feel a thing.

“The drugs must be helping!” Soap shouted hopefully, his voice almost lost under the loud whooshes of air all around you. 

Were you on a helicopter?

You blinked up at the ceiling and smiled euphorically, almost laughing until you were forced to choke back more coughs. It forced your face to scrunch and the light around you to shatter. 

Why were you coughing? What was happening? Why were you in a helicopter? 

Oh no, it’s happening again I’m dreaming, you thought, absolutely horrified at the thought of waking up in the darkness again. It was the only explanation. How did you go from being beaten to being in a helicopter with all of your boys? It simply couldn’t be real. 

“Not…real,” you croaked sadly, “Not…real.”

“Sneak, save your throat,” König roared, his voice sounding similarly distant as Soap’s. 

His hand felt so heart shatteringly solid, like something that was really there. Hadn’t you felt him like that earlier and awoke to find it was all fake? His voice as well. The realisation brought on a violent sob. You were reduced to tears in seconds, shivering violently into the hard floor beneath you. You just couldn’t tell what was happening anymore, you couldn’t feel anything properly. Your skin felt fuzzy and your mind was filled with pillow stuffing.

“You’re safe, Sneak. It’s alright!”

You jumped when you heard König’s voice come through loud and clear. A weird snug feeling encapsulated your head and you frowned, not understanding that you’d been graced with a pair of headphones. The drugs really were doing their work, but you were too gone to even think of that. 

“Sneak hold on for me, ok? Just a little bit longer, my love,” König begged. 

His voice was so hoarse and scratchy. However you heard it loud and clear. 

“Mm…love you,” you whispered. “Been…dreaming bout…you.”

Even if it was a dream, you were happy to fall into it now. The warm fuzz was spreading further through your veins, cushioning your insides pleasantly from all the misery and strain. The idea of this being one of your last dreams tickled at your brain and you almost felt like giggling again. The sunshine was returning to the edges of your vision. 

“Sneak, listen to König and stay awake, alright? Don’t close your eyes Sneak!”

“Soap?” you frowned.

He’d never been in your visions before. Not that you were angry to hear his voice again, but you were thoroughly confused as to why he’d appeared all of a sudden. 

“Stop talking, Sneak. Your throat’s fucked.”

Ghost? 

“Yeah, you can relax for a little bit, ok? Just concentrate on us.”

Gaz?

“Stop overwhelming them,” Price growled out. “All of you shut it.”

Were they all there? You strained your head, moaning when you couldn’t move very much. Something was preventing you. Were you strapped down? You struggled and huffed out a few heavy breaths and soon found that it was no use. You couldn’t move. You could only face ahead. 

That wasn’t so bad either. Soon König was filling your sights and he was leaning above you, floating into frame like an angel. He was wearing his half mask, allowing you to see his uncovered eyes and messy blonde hair. More than ever you wanted to reach out and stroke it, though you knew well enough that you couldn't in your restrained predicament. You pouted. 

“Wan…feel…you…”

“Shhh, darling. Don’t talk. I’m right here, just stay with me. Focus on my voice and keep your eyes open. We’re getting you to a hospital, alright?”

You moaned. 

Why couldn’t you just reach out and touch him? You wanted to feel his hard body against yours just one more time, even if you weren’t sure you’d feel him properly in your dreamstate. It didn’t matter, you figured you could convince yourself of anything. If only you were enjoying the spread of his thick fluffy blonde locks beneath your fingers. Even the thought was enough to send you tingling. 

“That’s right, you’re going to be ok,” König smiled, gently holding your cheek and stroking it. “You’re going to be ok and you’re going to recover. You’re going to get seen to by the doctors, and you’ll rest up and before you know it you’ll be coming home with me. Yeah? You remember our trip? You’re going to be ok. You’re going to come back to Austria with me, ok?”

Finally you were in heaven. It felt so so real. It felt safe. You inhaled deeply and relaxed back, smiling contentedly to yourself. That was everything that you’d wanted for days. You craved loving gestures like a ravenous addict, the yearning had burnt in your heart for days. 

“No! Stop that, keep your eyes open!”

You hadn’t even realised you’d closed them. You blinked sleepily and drew in a deep breath, but the yellow light couldn’t compete with the cool darkness. You craved the shade of rest, wanted to nuzzle into the black. 

“Darling please. If you fall asleep now you might not wake again and I don’t know what I’ll do. Please! Please stay with me! You told me you wouldn’t leave me again, Sneak, you promised! Stop this!”

You frowned. Through the last dregs of light remaining you could see his eyes streaming with tears. His chest was heaving with effort to keep himself upright. His hand was wrapped around your shoulder now, and his other had joined your other side. König was clutching onto you like a little boy lost, but you could do nothing to help him. You felt so weak. You could barely hold your lids open anymore, never mind comfort anyone. 

Why couldn’t he just relax into the warmth like you? You could both lie in the darkness together, bodied fused in the nothing, just floating. You frowned. 

Why was he trying to make you hold on? Didn’t he know that if you woke again you’d be back inside the cell, tied up and shivering like a beaten dog. You didn’t want to go back to that. You wanted to stay in your dream forever now. This was it, you decided.

“Nein! Bitte verlass mich nicht. Ich flehe dich an, bitte bleib!” König sobbed, his voice overtaken by sad gasping breaths. “Please…keep your eyes open. Bitte…please…stop…bitte…Nein…”

Distantly you wanted to remind him that he needed to talk to you in English, but even talking seemed like some far off concept.

You shook your head and lay back into the darkness fully, swaying into the eternal night. You wished König wasn’t so sad. You wished your last dream had been a more pleasant one…but it didn’t matter.

It was just a dream.

Don’t cry König… you’ll find me no matter where I go…

-☠️-

I got pain an' experience... an' you got heart -- kinda remind me of Marciano, ya do.

“How’re things? Any progress?”

“I’ve noticed some twitching, but the doctors keep saying I’m seeing things. They keep blaming it on lack of sleep.”

Rocky, when I was fightin' it was the dirtiest racket goin', see. Pugs like me was treated like fightin' dogs -- throw ya in the pit an' for ten bucks ya try to kill each other.

“...I know it’s difficult, but you need to rest too. You’ve been holed up in here alone with these movies on repeat for god knows how long now. It’s not good for you, mate.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what’s good for me. The doctors said familiar people and sounds will help. Rocky will help. Being here will help.”

“I know but...If-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘if’ Sneak wakes up.”

-

Do you feel you have a chance?

Maybe

“König, enough's enough. Get yourself downstairs, jump in that fucking taxi and go to the hotel. Don’t come back till you’ve gotten that wretched smell off you and do something about the bags under your eyes.”

“For the last time I’m not going! I saw a finger spasm. It really moved!”

“I’m sure you’ve seen pink elephants and all sorts by now, sunshine. Fuck off and go look after yourself. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

“No! I won’t do it!”

“For god’s sakes do you want to stink Sneak awake? C’mon, look at yourself. Don’t you think you’ll scare them if they wake up and see you like this?”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care!”

-

Get outta my life both of ya's.

“Look, I know we don’t really get on but…I bought you a tea. Can I sit for a bit?”

“Are you going to try and make me leave too?”

“Jesus, no. Just wanted to come check in. They keep sayin’ you’re seeing movement…”

... It's cold outside, Paulie.

“I am seeing movement. Today it was a blink, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, that’s good, hm? What’re the doctors sayin’? Do they think there’ll be any change?”

“The doctors never want to reveal much.”

He's scum from the corner, I didn't raise ya to hang with no bum!

“Do you ever get tired of Rocky being on all the time? It’d drive me nuts watching the same thing over and over all day.”

“I barely notice it anymore.”

“Huh.”

-

“Sneak please, I’m begging you. You have to give me something…I’ve been watching you for so long now and you’ve never been so still. Just give me something so I can keep going, yeah? Anything…bitte.”

-

“You know I was looking out at the stars a minute ago. It reminded me of when we sat together that night and looked up at the sky together. Remember that, darling? You fixed my hair for me. I could use that again now. I almost broke my comb trying to put it through my hair yesterday. I suppose maybe I should listen to your team, hm? Garrick and MacTavish offered to sit with you for a little while tonight… Maybe you’d like to have some company with someone else for a bit. Maybe you’d be better off without me, hm?”

-

It don't matter if I lose... Don't matter if he opens my head...The only thing I wanna do is

go the distance -- That's all.

“I’ve tried it all and still you won’t wake up for me! What will it take Sneak? What will it fucking take! I’ve done everything and still it isn’t enough! Why am I not enough! Is it because of what I did that day? Is this my penance? Are you running away from me again? Goddamn it, I can’t take this, wake up Sneak! Just open your eyes!”

-

I love you -- I love you -- I love you…

“Fuckin’ hell, is this still on?”

“Ghost!”

“You know why it’s on.”

“Think I could recite it from memory by now.”

“You’re not helpin’, LT. Leave him alone.”

“Fuck me, there’s only so many times you can listen to that numbskull’s voice. Let the arsehole say Yo! Adrian and turn it off.”

“Well then, it sounds like you can’t recite it from memory then.”

“What?”

“‘Yo! Adrian’ - That’s from Rocky two. He didn’t say it in the first one, see? The movie is over now.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

-

“I was thinking earlier…you said before that you hated not knowing my name. You said that I shared everything with you, except that and it…it killed you not to know me completely. I don’t know why I had to be so stubborn about it now, I suppose it's just not a name I like to hear very much. Apart from my mother, it just reminds me of people I’d rather not think about…but I think if i ever heard you say it I’d like it. Do you still want to know it? What if I told you now, would you wake up?”

-☠️-

Swirling mist danced behind your lids. There was an electric current somewhere sparking in a breeze, you were floating along on it, your skin tingled and your spine burned with the fizz of it. You felt yourself twinge, felt a groan building in the back of your throat even though you couldn’t hear it. There was a vibration running down your body, it built and thrummed through you, undulating with the electricity. 

You liked it. You enjoyed getting to float freely, loved the temporary bliss of your shadowy escape. There was no pain there in the darkness, just whooshes and whisps of feeling and giddy deliriousness. An endless drifting cycle that felt like it could go on for the rest of time. However implausible that would be to a sane person. 

Ultimately it didn’t last forever though - eventually you felt yourself sinking.

You frowned. No. You didn’t want to sink, you didn’t want to go into the depths, you wanted to remain in the clouds. You hated the falling sensation, you hated the burning that built in your throat, hated the aches that broke out all over your back as if it were cracked glass. You especially disliked the crusty feeling behind your eyes. 

You scrunched your eyelids furiously, gritting your teeth when you couldn’t relieve the sensation. With a strangled moan and no small amount of effort you cracked your eyes open. Somehow you resisted the urge to scream. Maybe you were too weak to do anything like that just yet, but your body wasn’t above holding it in, waiting to survey your surroundings first. 

You blinked furiously into the light. The room you were in was disgustingly fucking bright, clinically bright. The shocking white glare flooded your vision and kept you fluttering your eyelids for a moment, continuously disturbing the layer of gunk that had built in the gloopy corners of your eyes. The world was in stark contrast to the one you’d just emerged from. What was painless and empty before was now bursting to life with sensation. 

Fuck. 

There were so many acidic scents and weird feelings around you. Your body felt like it was repressurising, your lungs were reacclimating to your surroundings. Through it all, you wanted to reach up and wipe your face so badly. There was no way you could muster the strength though. You didn’t have enough energy, it was all being used toward your growing awareness. 

Why were you so weak? Why couldn’t you move? Where were you? 

The questions clawed at your mind and had your brain scrambling until it burnt. There weren’t many memories to help you out. When you tried to think of where you were last, your head came up just as blank as the ceiling above you. That’s when you realised there was only one way you could get any answers. 

You would have to move.

For some reason your instincts were telling you not to talk, not to draw attention to yourself. You weren’t sure why, but you sure as fuck weren’t going to go aginst your gut at a time like that. 

You sucked in a silent breath and steeled yourself. Then you took in another. Then another. You breathed in and out and kept up a steady rhythm until you felt you’d gathered every miniscule ounce of strength you had and finally you put it all into twisting your neck around. You grunted out in pain, but kept yourself quiet, swivelling and sighing all you could until you were greeted with something other than ceiling. 

A lightning shock of messy blonde hair. A black mask. A big scarred face gently slackened into a sleepy frown. 

Your heart leaped in your chest. You couldn’t remember much, but one thing was for sure - you knew exactly who was sitting across from you then. 

It brought a smile to your sore cracked lips. The corners twitched up and your heart jumped around in your chest like a parading cheerleader. Next thing you knew, something from somewhere next to you, something started to furiously beep. It filled your head and ricocheted through your ears, and more importantly startled the man across from you out of his slumber. 

“Ah Oida! Doctor, nurse! The monitor its-”

König looked at you then and you could’ve sworn his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. The world went still. 

You smiled softly at him and watched on as he stayed frozen in his tracks, looking like a perfect picture of fear and disbelief. The room felt like it’d been filled with gas, like it was seconds from ignition. He gaped at you in the heavy silence. 

“Am I…Is this…Is this real?” he asked fearfully. 

You smiled wider then and blinked a couple times. You couldn’t rely on your voice to work, it felt like your gullet was filled up with gravel. Talking was going to be a luxury, you could tell. It already felt like a miracle getting to lay eyes on your man again, but it wasn’t one you were taking for granted. From the few moments you’d had, you could tell you’d been out for a while.

“My love! It’s really you, you’re really awake!” König laughed. 

You mustered a tiny nod from your depleted energy reserves. The second you moved you sent König running toward you. 

His boots slapped down on the squeaky tiled floors, with the force he sped to you it felt like he was going to put his foot through the floor. Though you couldn’t focus too much on that, because soon enough he was on you, arms clamping around you as if he’d never let go again. 

It hurt so bad to have him wrap himself so tightly round you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. Strangely it was comforting to feel pain from something good. And man did it feel good. It felt like you’d been pulled from the ice, like you were warm again. Safe. You were home. 

It made you all the more aware that you really were alive. 

“König what the fuck are you doing? You can’t squeeze sneak awake! The doctors are saying you’re causing a commotion in here, what’s going on?”

You smiled wider than you ever thought possible and looked past König’s heaving body and toward the source of the gruff commanding voice. It was a voice for sore ears. 

“I don’t need to squeeze Sneak awake, Captain,” König giggled, his entire body vibrating with his maddened laughter. 

“Fuckin’ hell you’ve finally crossed the border fully into looney land,” Price growled. 

“No! No, see for yourself. See!”

König detached from you, allowing you some more space to breathe again, and you took the opportunity gratefully. However you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose when you finally caught the pungent smell that had clung to the air around you. Was that…König?

“What are you talking about? What- fucking christ alive!”

You broke out of your hazy thoughts and made eye contact with Price, almost breaking your silence with a fit of laughter when he did the same thing as König. His mouth hung open, his unusually clean shaven face looking thin and haunted from the second he realised that König hadn’t gone mad from grief. He dropped his shivering skinny arms and his whole hospital gown clad body shot up stick straight. 

“Bloody hell It’s really…Sneak’s really…”

“See! I told you! I told you all!” König grinned. “I said there had been movement. I told you that Sneak would fight.”

König’s stance was victorious, his eyes were ablaze with pride. It made your chest wrench to see him so happy. Something told you that he hadn’t been doing well at all. If his greasy hair and fierce aroma were anything to go by. At least he would be able to fix that. 

You weren’t so sure that you were going to be fixed anytime soon. 

All of a sudden, as if awakened by your thoughts, a horrible tearing jolt worked itself through your throat and splintered down your back. It forced a pathetic squeak of pain from your lips and soon the two men were rushing to the door screaming and shouting for someone to come do something as your body heaved and trembled. The alarm and the crazed beeping from the machines only made your condition worsen, the shouting rattled your ears and rung through your head like a gong. 

A nurse was by your side in minutes, shaking a little as König stood beside her, urging her to do something. You were in too much pain to pity her though. Your entire being was in atrophy. Chills and hot flashes worked their way through your skin and horrible zipping sparks jumped all around your body, directing themselves toward your tired lungs. 

Though soon the trauma ended, and your pain dulled down into a light throb until eventually you felt like you were on a new plane. All the edges in the room appeared hazy and everything seemed to ebb and blur. At first it didn’t feel much better than the agony, but eventually you grew used to it, letting yourself lay back into the soft sheets and smile dopily into the skinny pillow you’d been given. 

“Sneak? Sneak!”

“König,” you mouthed, floating steadily back into the darkness. 

 -☠️-

You’d had a few more encounters like that until you were finally able to stay awake without being shot up with drugs like a dying horse. 

The pain started to get more manageable with time, and of course you were able to motivate yourself with seeing all of your loved ones again. König was always there, bar the times you had to raspily whisper shout at him to go take a bath or to go get some rest. He never would leave you alone to sleep though, opting instead to lay down on the empty hospital cot next you. He’d strong armed a young doctor into getting it into your room of course. 

Price visited quite a lot too. He was in the room next to yours, thoroughly displeased that they weren’t giving him the all clear to go back to work. He groused that he was just fine and that the bloody doctors didn’t know what they were saying, going on about how he’d been a Captain long enough and he knew better than them that his body was ready to go home and heal there. You both knew it was a lie though. Price was as sick as you, even if he was mostly able to walk and talk. You could see it behind his eyes. 

You knew well enough what was lurking in there, because you had the same sickness yourself. It was there when strangers came to touch you and check up on you, the doctors that were only trying to care for you. It was there when the lights went out at night. It was there lurking in the shadows. It was there every time you were forced to get a wash. You screamed bloody murder the first time you were awake for a sponge bath, almost choked up blood you were so terrified of the water. Even the sound of it sloshing at the edges of the bucket was enough to send you into a panic attack. It was a nightmare even having to drink the stuff. 

König took it upon himself to look after every facet of your wellbeing after that wash. He bathed you, he fed you when you were finally able to have solid food, and he practically barked like a rottweiler at anyone that tried to touch you without letting him know what it was for. As much as you tried to tell him it was alright and that he didn’t have to do all that for you, he’d shake his head with indignance everytime and shush you with a million platitudes. He said he’d do anything for you. He would serve you until the minute you sent him away, which wasn’t very often, but it was necessary to tell him to eat or get himself a shower. 

Price had confessed to you one night that he had reacted much the same as you after they’d brought him in. König had been sent away, and so your Captain sat on the foot of your bed drinking tea from a wonky paper cup, occasionally grimacing with his weird naked face as the bitter after taste sunk in. You were still getting used to seeing him without a beard, even after all you’d been through, that was still completely out of the ordinary. 

“It’s the only reason I drink this utter shit,” he’d remarked, drawing the tea close to his lap. “I’d rather have something with a taste to it. Something with a bit of colour.”

“Glad to know its not just me,” you’d said bitterly. 

Your voice was still raspy when you spoke, the doctors told you it would take a while to heal, you just had to keep your voice to a whisper for a while. Apparently your throat had suffered so much trauma that you were lucky you were getting to speak at all after what you’d been through. Not that you felt particularly lucky. 

“You know…when we go back we’ll have to get tested…medical tests, psych evals.”

Your lips parted and you sucked in a low breath. In the back of your mind you hadn’t forgotten that Price was going to waive your little misstep with König. You were technically allowed to go back. That aside though, would you really be capable? Could you pass a psych eval? You screamed bloody murder most nights because of the awful nightmares you were having. Your body was frail and your scars were deep. Not all of them would heal. 

“You’d let me back?” you asked slowly. 

“Well, if you managed to pass - of course,” Price shrugged. “I was serious when I said that the whole mess with König didn’t matter, I think we’ve been through enough together that none of that means anything anymore. The most important factor is, do you want to go back?”

You caught eyes with him then, locked into his hard stare. His blue eyes were shining dully in the dim yellow night light. You could see the hollows in his cheeks more prominently now, the shadows were digging their palms into his face. He was right - you had been through a lot together.

You weren’t so sure about your abilities anymore, if you would have the nerve to get out on the field again. A dark part of you also wondered about the alternative, what if you’d enjoy it too much? What if you’d want to take your vengeance out on those who hadn’t even done anything to you? 

Even through the haze of your memories of being rescued, you could still remember the way you stared at Rousseau's crushed up body and the feeling of your smile still haunted you.

Of all the things that that man had done to you, the most horrific of all was the taking of some small part of your humanity. It brought a shiver to your core each time you thought of his head being smashed against the wall, and how you couldn’t even imagine telling König to stop even if you’d had the ability at the time.

It was something you desperately tried not to dwell on, lest your chest cave in from the pressure. 

Both you and Price wordlessly let the uncomfortable silence linger. Soon enough he cast his gaze away and flickered his attention over to the TV. It was playing a crappy sitcom that neither of you had seen before, nevertheless you were both as captivated with it as if it were your favourite. Neither of you brought up coming back again that night. It made for too many questions that you didn’t have the answer to yet. 

It was easier to pretend that everything was going to be fine. Your head felt clearer when you plastered on a smile and acted like everything was normal. That was the tactic when Ghost, Gaz and Soap finally came to visit and it worked well then.

They’d all flooded into the room with faces like slapped arses. Gaz and Soap were fighting each other to apologise to you first while Ghost stood solemnly by your side giving you one of the sorriest looks you’d ever seen from those hard blue eyes of his. You weren’t going to have any of it though. They didn’t deserve to drown in their guilt because of a series of reckless choices that you’d made. 

“All of you have got to stop apologising. You already did enough getting us out of there, there’s nothing more to be said about it,” you rasped, quickly looking over to the jug of water placed strategically away from you. 

Ghost gave Soap and gaz a withering look, before he turned and fetched a small glass, filling it only a third of the way before steadily handing it to you. It barely shifted in his careful hands - it made you realise that someone must’ve filled him in. The realisation had your heart stuttering, it had revealed a crack in your normal facade. 

Despite that though, you gave him a small nod and gently tipped the water back, greedily letting the water soothe your burning throat. Drinking it never completely relieved you of course. Your throat remained scratchy no matter what you had, it would still take some time before you fully recovered. 

“We played our part in your capture, Sneak. There’s no denying it,” Ghost said. “Me more than anyone else. I put you in danger and I can’t let you dismiss that. I let my feelings get in the way of the mission, and ultimately that was the whole reason Price had set the rules he did with you in the first place. I’m truly sorry for what happened, and there isn’t anything that’ll make my part in what happened alright.”

“Aye, we all did, we all put you in danger. It was a fuckin’ big shock, Sneak. It didn’t feel good knowing you might’ve been leaving the team for someone we thought was…well it doesn’t matter what we thought. Point is we acted out of line and we do have to apologise,” Soap said seriously, placing his hand by yours on the bed. “Im sorry too.”

“It wasn’t our place to punish you,” Gaz said firmly, “We acted like fucking children and it almost cost your life. I can’t say sorry enough.”

“You were barely even with me on that mission!”

“Well I didn’t exactly stick up for you when I got the chance, did I?”

You started to roll your eyes, but the look that Gaz gave you was enough to stop them before they peaked at the skyline. You closed them instead for a second and then pursed your lips, taking a moment to consider their words.

Everything in you wanted to tell them all to shut up about it so that you wouldn’t have to think too much about that awful day, but you knew well enough that you couldn’t ask everyone to put it behind them just so that you could deny it. What happened happened. You had to face it. If not just for yourself, then for the men that had risked their lives coming to get you and Price back. For your brothers. 

Though you didn’t have to unravel right at that exact moment, you decided. That could wait for a time that you could at least fetch your own water for yourself, or when you could take a shower without König standing outside of it. 

“Well, seeing as we’re talking apologies…” you sighed, opening your eyes again and looking at each of them with serious measure. “Let’s get into reparations. What’d you all get me?”

“Get you?” Gaz repeated. 

“Yeah, where are my ‘sorry you almost died, woops!’ balloons?”

“Oh, away n’ bile yer heid!” Soap groused. 

“You didn’t even get a little bear with hand marks round it’s neck?” you grinned. 

“Well we found one, but it had big red handprints on its arse as well, and that just didn’t seem appropriate,” Ghost remarked. 

“Jesus, LT!” Soap snapped. 

“Yeah, König might take it as us flirtin’ and snap our arms off,” Gaz sniggered. 

“Oh for…” Soap groaned, and put his hands over his eyes. 

You laughed properly for the first time in a long time, and most joyously of all you didn’t fly into a coughing fit straight after. It flowed freely from you like notes from a tuba, still not quite your usual timbre but fuck it, it was music. Your body lightened and your head cleared, it was like an oppressive fog was beginning to lift. 

Even if you weren’t coughing by the end of it, your throat still dried up again though you didn’t need to worry. Ghost got you another glass of water and handed it to you with a softened expression.

You took the glass from him once more and sunk into a familiar rhythm with the guys again, transporting yourself away from the four stark white walls of the hospital room and away on their adventures. They filled you in on what was happening back at base, told you about their latest antics with the recruits and by the end of it you were so delirious from happiness, the nurse had to shoo them out so that you could rest. 

König came in shortly after them, freshly washed and fed, and he lay down in his cot across the room. His footsteps had woken you, even when he hadn’t meant to, you were still so hypersensitive to movement. Even in the darkness you could make out his mountainous shape as it rose and curved from the bed and it brought a little smile curving onto your lips. Your protector was never far. 

You sleepily invited him over and gladly he came speed walking to your bed. His messy was flopping in his excitement and the site of him reminded you so much of a cartoon you couldn't help but laugh a little.  

The trilling sound of it had him smiling, and soon after he poured you a cup of water and let you drink before fastening his arms around you and cuddling into your back. Your personal stove was on full heat. He was assuming his faithful position by your side. 

You sighed and relaxed into him, wiggling to get yourself right before frowning when you felt something sharp poking into your leg. What was that? You drew your hand back and stopped at König’s pocket, tilting your head when you slid your hand in and found the source. 

“Oh, Scheiße,” König huffed.

“What?”

König’s body went stiff as a board and you could practically feel the air harden around you. You were confused as to why he was there until you brought your hand to your face and discovered the cause. 

It was the wooden bird from the market. You tilted it gently and inspected it, quickly realising what the cause of his sorry state was. It’s little wing had been broken and glued back on, a permanent scar had been left on its frail body. Something that was all too familiar. 

“It’s just like me,” you joked.

“What?” König somehow managed to get stiffer. 

You turned around and faced him, gasping when you realised how upset he was. His entire expression soured, his eyebrows knitting into a deep frown. His shoulders sagged with grief and from behind his bandana you swore you could see his lips trembling, could sense his breath puffing out raggedly from behind the material. The pain on his face struck through your skull like a mallet. 

Shit. 

“You know…It’s got a little damage, but its ok. You put it back together,” you shrugged, trying fruitlessly to keep your tone light and even. 

“It was only broken because of me,” König whimpered. “And I haven’t even properly fixed it.” 

His eyes glazed over, spacing out into whatever terrible thoughts had been tugging at his subconscious. You’d felt your heart break then, cracking down the middle at the thought of him blaming himself. It was bad enough when the 141 were filling up the room with their apologies, but it was a whole other thing to see König folding under the pressure of his guilt. The boys had each other, but he didn’t have anyone other than you. 

“Hey,” you said gently, voice still a little rough. “Listen to me. C’mon look at me. König I need you to know that it’s not your fault, what happened wasn’t because of you…I don’t even know why you’d think it’s your fault, but ultimately it comes down to me. My stupid actions. You tried to do your best by me that day and I fought you because I was scared. I couldn’t stop worrying about all the damage I’d done and in the end I only made it all worse. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, frowning as he searched your face. 

“Of course I’m sure. That day I got captured was a shit show, König. After you did everything you possibly could to make sure I got back safe and sound again, and… well I don’t even know if I can even count on myself not having more dreams or hallucinations, but I’m sure I heard you everyday that you were by my bedside. I could feel you when I was asleep. You were there with me even when I was getting moved around all those prisons. You’ve been my anchor König, you’ve been the one that’s kept me here fighting. You’re my reason to go on, so don’t you lie there blaming yourself for what’s happened.”

“How can I not?” König sighed. “It’s my fault things got so complicated between us in the first place. I was the reason that Price banned you from having a relationship with me, It was my fault for being so bloodthirsty. Fuck, I could barely even stop myself from killing Rousseau, I thought- I thought that, well I worried that you would’ve spent your last moments horrified with me for what I’d done to him that day.” 

“Oh fuck no, don’t be stupid!” you snapped. 

König’s brows shot up and his eyes grew big as saucers. You swore you could see your hardset gaze reflected clearly in the blue of them, burning holes through that layer of guilt he’d shrouded himself in. How dare he think that he was your ruin when he was the one that saved you? 

“Don’t you dare put all the blame on yourself, König. You can’t think like that. I have just as much freedom over my actions as you do, it was equally my fault for getting Price on my back, and it was down to my actions that day that got me captured. As for Rousseau, well, I would’ve splattered him on the concrete myself if I had the energy.”

“Sneak!”

“It’s true,” you spat. “I know I shouldn’t think like that, but it’s true. I know I’m normally the one that tries to do right, but do you know what? After all the wrong I’ve done, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m not capable of the same things as you. We both have violent jobs, and we both carry horrible truths that haunt us. Don’t turn me into one of your ghosts König, don’t let the guilt fester and eat you up. I love you and I’d do anything to make sure you were safe, and I know that you’d do the same for me. You brought me back from the brink and now because of it we can lay here together and we can make a future for ourselves. We can go to Austria and we can decide to do whatever we want with the time that we have König. That’s all that matters. Don’t shrink from the past and get upset at the scars left behind. We have to learn to accept it.”

You thrust the bird toward him and he took it, scooping it into his hands ever so delicately. It was as if you’d handed him your heart. His breaths were soft and his eyes were filled with tears. 

There was a single beat where you worried he might try to walk away, but instead he gently placed the bird down on your over-bed table, wood hitting wood producing a soft whispery sound in the near silent room, and then he wrapped his arms around you again. He held you tight and kept you melded to him, fusing you with his shaking body. 

He cried soundlessly and let his body shake most of it out, all of the terror and the pain and the stress he’d been holding onto was slowly being released through you. His tears ran thick and hot and collected at his mask, reddening his cheeks at the edges of it. You slid it down for him eventually and cleared away the salty tracts, dabbing at his cheeks with the corner of your crisp white bed sheets. 

“You have no idea…I…I feel so selfish saying this, but you don’t know how lonely I’ve felt this past month. I’ve just felt like I’ve had all of this pain trapped inside and every time I’ve seen you suffer since waking up I just- I’ve felt like shit for thinking that I deserve an ounce of comfort when you’re the one that’s been through the worst.”

“Don’t think like that König, please. You always have me to turn to, you’re not being selfish for feeling hurt in all this. You got burnt too and it’s not fair you going it alone ok? You can talk to me, König. You can always talk to me. I love you, I love you so much, and I don’t want you bottling everything up just to protect me. I’m not broken, you don’t have to turn me into your next mission. I’m healing, and I think- I think we both need to heal. Y’know?”

König took a stuttering breath and nodded, his lips curling downward in a unique kind of sadness you’d never seen on him before. Now that his hair was flopping over his forehead and his half mask was wound down and dishevelled on his neck, he looked so young. His face was shadowed with his innocence, it shone out across his eyes. 

You pressed your palms into his cheeks and smoothed your thumbs over the irritated salty skin, pressing kisses where you could to ease the pain. His face was scratchy from the thick stubble there, but you didn’t care. It was more important that you soothe the burning ache inside König. You had to show him that you could be there for him too, even if you were still physically weak.

He was your reason to remain strong. He was the reason you were taking steps every day to try and get better. He really was your anchor. Your König. 

“Somehow we’ll make it through this…” you whispered, finally giving his swollen lips a much needed kiss.

He closed his eyes and leaned into it. The pressure in the atmosphere seemed to lighten, your lips crushed together like petals and you bathed in the calm that overflowed in you. It finally felt like things really would be ok. You were together now and you didn’t need to constantly think about your next steps, you just had to be. That was all that mattered for then. 

Your kiss ended a little while after, your breath not quite back to normal yet. Your chest panted with the lack of air, but soon you settled again and smiled. König matched your smile and his dazzling blue eyes gleamed like jewels in the low light. He rested against the pillow and stared at you in awe, as if he was finally seeing someone he hadn’t gotten to be with in a very long time. 

“Do you really think you heard me when you were…asleep?” he asked, tentatively breaking the silence as if it were fragile glass. 

He could never bring himself to say ‘in a coma’.

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I think I dreamed a lot, but I can’t really remember. I swear I really could hear Rocky sometimes, but then Price was very eager to make a point of saying how insane you’d driven everyone with it so…who knows,” you laughed. “He’s a vivid storyteller I guess.”

König chuckled a little and shook his head. Looking a little guilty as he thought about the amount that movie had been on. He’d already confessed to you it’d be a long time before he’d ever be able to watch it again. 

“You don’t remember me speaking to you though? Don’t remember the things I’d told you?”

You tilted your head at him, the movement rustling the stark sheets beneath you. 

“I feel like I can remember you saying you loved me and you wanted me to open my eyes, but I can’t really remember anything specific. Nothing I couldn’t have just as well have dreamt,” you shrugged. “Why?”

“I…well I thought…ugh, it’s ridiculous. Nevermind,” he sighed, looking toward the wall and away from your questioning gaze. 

“Aw, c’mon König! What is it? You can tell me,” you pressed, running your hand through a section of his fluffy hair. 

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His face washed with relief, his body relaxed. He let go of his anxieties. 

“Well…I told you my name a little closer to the end of your sleep. I thought that maybe you might’ve remembered it if you were coming to awareness.”

You froze, stopping your calming gestures in your tracks as soon as you realised what you’d missed out on. 

“You what! You told me your name and now you’re just casually throwing that out there?”

“Well I was desperate, Sneak. I thought maybe it’d motivate you to wake up, I dunno. I said it was ridiculous,” he huffed, opening his eyes back up again. 

“Well, do I get to know it now?” you demanded, rolling over him so that he was caged between your arms. 

He widened his eyes, and even in the darkness you could make out the rosy tint that had broken out across his cheeks. He breathed a little quicker. 

“Aw, c’mon!” you begged, giving him your widest doe eyes you could muster. “Please.”

He sighed and bit his lip, trying to avoid your stare, but it didn’t work. He could feel the heat of your eyes on him and so he gave up. He puffed out a defeated breath and he smiled a queasy smile. He was about to speak, but instead found himself opening his mouth and closing it again, sealing his lips shut tightly. 

“Are you really still scared to share it with me?” you asked, softening your harsh stare at him. 

He opened and closed his mouth again and finally he shook his head at himself. 

“I’m not scared, no. It just feels…I’m not sure. I don’t really like to say it. I Will tell you though. I don’t ever want anything to happen again and live knowing that I didn’t hear you say it. I’m sure I’ll love to hear you say it.”

“Well you could always write it down…I can’t promise I’ll pronounce it right if its got some weird Austrian spelling, but I can-”

“No, no,” he chuckled, taking one of your hands in his and stopping you before you could go off on a tirade. “I won’t need to write it down. I’ll tell you.”

“Ok, well…when you’re ready.”

He breathed out and traced your fingers with his thumb. The massive digit stroked featherlight touches into your skin and you smiled at the fizzing sensation of it. His breath was warm on your neck, his chest was beating erratically from beneath you. It prompted you to climb down off him, keeping a grip of his hand all the same, but instead you took to lying next to him again. 

He smiled lazily as you settled by his side and he closed his eyes. You felt yourself strain as you listened to the buzzing quiet in the room, waiting to hear his name after all that time. 

“Matthias,” he whispered.

You instantly grinned, the single word lighting you up like a beacon. Your chest felt like it could burst. 

“Do I get a second name, Matthias?” you asked, pressing closer so you could kiss his cheek. 

He shivered next to you, his entire body buzzing. The static zipped right through the bed. He gave you a look he’d never given you before, the joy indescribable. 

“Luger,” he said gently. 

You bit your lip, not quite believing that you finally heard it.

“Not König then?”

“No, not König,” he murmured. “König was my mother’s maiden name. I started using it when I left the army. No ones called me by my real name in a long time”

“Huh… Matthias Luger,” you said in a whisper, feeling conspiratorial. “It suits you.”

“It suits me when you call me it,” he smiled, cuddling himself into the bed. 

“Should I call you Matthias when we’re alone now?” you pondered, letting your thoughts escape out loud.

He breathed out a laugh and pulled you close to him, forcing you to sink into the bed with him. It didn’t require too much coercion however. You were more than happy to lie there with him.

“You can call me whatever you like as long as you stay with me, darling,” he whispered. “Don’t ever run off like that again, you promise?”

You sighed and cuddled closer into his body, gradually letting yourself fade into the night with him. 

“I promise…Matthias,” you whispered, not helping yourself from saying it just one last time. 

-☠️-

The darkness kept a hold of you both for some time after that, after all was said and done. However during the course of your lying in bed together, it released its hold on you soon enough, and before you knew it the sun was raising its bright arms into the sky and beginning to wave good morning. You could see it out in the hallway, gently tickling at the floors and beginning to shift its eyes onto your room. You were dozing on and off, but now that you’d seen the light you were fully awake, flickering your lashes at the golden rays as they bounced off the blue linoleum. 

“Morning.”

König yawned next to you, stretching himself out and uncurling his arms. His back cracked like a firework seconds later, and he wrapped himself around you again, snuggling into the back of your T-shirt (one of his that he’d supplied you with). You rolled your eyes and smiled, feeling your heartbeat pitter patter. 

“You sure it’s morning for you?” You asked breathily. 

“Mm, I’ll be awake properly in a few minutes,” he grunted. “This just feels nice.” 

“Aw, so cute when you’re sleepy,” you cooed, rolling around so that you could see his shuttered lashes. 

He moaned his disapproval at being called cute, but he didn’t say much. He was verging far too much on the side of sleep rather than waking and you knew it would take far more to prod the bear back to life. 

You grinned slyly to yourself and bit your lip. Something of your old sense of mischief was returning to you.

“You’re just so sweet you’re all tired like that,” you continued.

He grunted again. 

“My little Schnucki cuddle bear…my lil matty watty-”

At that, König wrenched his eyes open and shot you a warning look. It was written all over his face that he had no idea how to take his revenge with you still in your weakened state, but you knew well enough he’d think of something. You took to giggling at his frowning face and lay yourself back against the pillow, innocently staring up at him as plotted away. 

“You know if you’re going to call me disgustingly cutesy names, I will have to leave.” 

“You would never,” you snorted, “I have to shoo you away just to get a shower most of the time.”

“Well, maybe I’m in a showering mood this morning,” he said, smiling viciously at you. 

His eyes were pointed at you like arrows. He pulled up his mask and sat up without breaking eye contact, then he tilted his head at you. A particularly smarmy look crossed his face. He’s clearly thought of a good way to get his revenge. 

“Yes, I think maybe I’ll head out for a little bit,” he shrugged.

“Fine,” you said, playing along with his little game. “I’m sure the nurses will be around with food soon. Price will be up and about too.”

“Mm, that will be good for you,” he said with a nod. “I think what might be good for me is getting myself a lovely breakfast. I’ll forgo the hospital canteen though, that stuff's rubbish. I think instead there's a lovely Italian deli that’ll be opening soon. One that I think you’ve heard of. It does lovely breakfast food!”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“And you’d bring something back from the deli then?”

“Why would I do that?”

You shoved at him playfully, too weak and tired to make much impact, but nonetheless enough to send him laughing back onto the bed. The booming sound had you giggling immediately, and even while all the excitement was hurting your throat you didn’t care. He pulled you into him and cuddled you close, forcing you back to the bed, though he didn’t actually have to use much strength. 

He held you like that until Price sleepily stumbled in with his morning tea round and cleared his throat, forcing you both to part. Even if he did say he was fine with König, it was evident he wasn’t in love with watching you exchange affections. Even standing next to König seemed like an issue some days. 

König left then, making his usual excuses, promising to come back with something from the deli after all, and allowed Price to pull up a chair alone.

He was a lot more mobile now that he’d mostly healed, he still stood a little funny under the weight of his crushed back, but according to the physio (and maybe Price overexaggerating his diagnosis) he would be fine again in a few weeks. Judging by the way he grunted when his back connected with the hard leather, you knew you were onto something assuming Price was being unusually optimistic.

“Making noises like that, you’ll be a sure candidate for desk duty, old man.”

Price shot you a glare and you bit your lip. He wasn’t going to abide by your cheek. 

“I can still send you to the latrines, Sneaky,” Price answered, slamming your flimsy takeaway tea down with a little too much force. 

“Oh yeah? I can imagine that’ll be a cushy job if I only have to clean your office.” 

“Fuck sake,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

You couldn’t help yourself. Now that you’d been through all that trauma together, you found yourself braving interactions with him that you never would’ve before. After seeing him bollock naked and covered in his own detritus, the sheen of his title had faded some. You were able to be braver.

You and he both knew that nothing he could threaten you with would be worse than what you’d already faced. It was that universally realised truth that meant you knew the bitter glare that he was directing you from behind his takeaway cup didn’t hold any real malice.

“Seriously though…Gaz told me you were thinking of going back in a couple weeks. Is that true?”

Price stopped mid sip and regarded you awkwardly. His eyes slanted downward to the floor and his palm rested on his sweats in defeat. It was still so odd seeing Price in pyjamas, almost weirder than seeing him naked. It made him look all the more uncomfortable in front of you. 

“Well, just on paperwork to start. I’m not bloody likely to pass a medical and I’ve got a series of psych evals and debriefs to get through, so yeah, I figure I may as well get ahead of it all.”

“You’ve got to tell them about what happened? Do I? Will they ask me to come in?” you asked, breath hitching with fear. “Will they come here?”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ve told them you’ll not be in until your health improves. Far as they’re concerned you’re barely talking right now,” he soothed. 

Your heartbeat wound down from its highly strung little dance. You breathed out a sigh of relief and picked up your cup of tea, breathing in the warm berry steam that wafted through the little opening in the top before you took a relieved sip. 

“Thanks…I don’t think I could face anything like that right now.”

“I barely can myself,” he muttered. “All those men giving me sorry looks like I’m a whipped dog. It’ll be hell. Still though, it’d be worse if I didn’t get to operate again. Needs must.”

You nodded, looking far beyond the pale white sheets that your head was directed towards. You didn’t have the same worries. You feared more than pitying looks, it was deeper than that for you. The real hell was having to relive what you’d gone through multiple times while blank faced suits noted down what had happened. The very idea made you want to bring up what little was in your stomach. 

“Have you given much more thought to coming back?” Price asked. 

You looked up at him and met his appraising look. His mouth quirked and his body tensed, he knew as well as you the answer was obvious. Obvious but complicated. 

“Honest answer? I’ve thought about it alot. At the end of the day I don’t even know if I’ll heal completely right yet. The fractures I’ve got are still bad and the physios keep looking at me like a tripped horse. I still can’t wash without König there. There’s a lot going on…”

“They’ll put you behind a desk if you tell them all that.”

“Maybe it’s the best place for me…I dunno. I’m not really sure of much right now, but I do know one thing - I’m not going to hide things anymore. I can’t hide my feelings just to try and get the work done, I’m not going to put people at risk because of the shit I’ve got bottled up. I’m never going to repeat the mistakes I made on that mission, Price. I’ve got too much to lose to ever do anything like that again.”

Price sighed and nodded, looking off into his own middle distance. It gave a sort of sagely quality, his crinkling eyes working against his younger years.

“I’ve asked and I can buy you three months,” he said suddenly, “You can take that time to heal and to think about things, see a shrink, do whatever you need to do. Come back to me then and give me an answer.”

“Three months?” you repeated. “To answer what? I don’t even know if I’ll be fully recovered.”

“You don’t need to be fully recovered…physically. You can be trained back to what you were, that’s not the issue. I just need to know if you can still do the job, and if you still want to do it. Take the time, think about things properly, hell go on that fuckin’ trip König wouldn’t shut up about and clear your head. After that, just come to me with an answer and even if it’s a no, I at least know that you got to think about your decision properly. I can make peace with it then.”

“You’re not keen on me saying no then?” you smiled, catching onto what he was doing. 

“I can see you leaning towards it and I’d rather you didn’t while you’re practically chained to the bed in a dour place like this. You’re a good soldier. You can recover from this and you can come back, if you want to. Get out of here as soon as you’re able and go away with König. Believe me when I tell you that I don’t doubt your ability for a second. You’ll get over the water stuff, you’ll overcome the shadows. If I can, then you can too. I don’t want to lose you, Sneak. So please, just promise me you’ll think about it, yeah?”

You sighed and gave him a nod, rubbing your thumb against the hot cardboard that barley kept your tea contained. It was almost blistering your skin, but the burning was a pleasant distraction from otherwise unpleasant thoughts. 

Price got up from his chair and put his hand on your shoulder, making sure that you acknowledged his meaningful look. His soft blue eyes cast a beam of light onto you, the wrinkles at the corner scrunching as he gave you a reassuring squeeze. His touch lingered long after he was gone, leaving you with just enough comfort to last until König returned. 

König did surreptitiously wander in minutes later, looking around warily before revealing his smuggled goods. He’d had to hide them in his hoodie like a pregnant lady, and just the sight of his overstuffed belly had you almost completely forgetting about what Price had discussed with you. You were happy to focus on better things. Afterall, you reasoned to yourself, it was Price that had told you to clear your head in the first place. 

“Ok, I couldn’t bring you Soup because I wasn’t willing to burn myself for you, but I did pick up your favourite panini and I got you a cake that might be a little squashed. Does the royal highness approve?”

You approved indeed. Anything was better than hospital food, but furthermore the deli food was better than anything. Immediately you grabbed for the panini and took a big grateful bite, barely just thanking König before you did so. It was just so good. Your eyelids shut tight as soon as you got your first taste of crusty bread and homemade melty butter. 

This was paradise. 

“Do I say enough how much I love you?” you murmured.

“Not at all,” König smirked, looking around the doorway for unwanted eyes before taking his own bite of panini from out of his mask. “It should be every word that leaves your mouth from now on.”

You snorted back a laugh and finished your bite. 

“I could do that, but your poor mother might think I'm a bit weird if I can only tell her how much I love you.”

König stopped eating and peered over at you, clearly forgetting all about his contraband treat. He regarded you seriously for a moment and pulled his chair closer, attention now completely focused on you. 

“You still want to go to Austria?”

“Well, the flights will need rebooked I imagine, but once I’m better? Of course!”

“But…didn’t you say you might need to report in soon?”

“Well, I spoke to Price about it all there and I told him the same thing I’ve said to you. I don’t know if I’ll go back fully. He didn’t want to accept that right away though, so he said he can give me three months. I figure I can be outta here a lot sooner than that. So what do you say? Still wanna show me home?”

König threw his panini down onto the table and pushed it roughly to the side, immediately taking his chance to wrap around you like a koala. He smiled brightly and he exhaled, his long thick arms not easing up as he constricted around you. 

“Do I say enough how much I love you?” König asked wryly. 

“Mm, I could stand to hear it a little more,” you sighed. 

He laughed lightly at that, you could feel it echoing around his chest. His warm puffs of breath landed hotly onto your neck. It had your eyelids fluttering closed, your own sandwich discarded somewhere next to König’s. You wrapped your arms around him in kind and revelled in the feeling of holding your universe close into your chest, letting everything else float away as you settled into the cloudy abyss once more. 

Even if you were unsure of where your future was going exactly, there was always going to be one constant. No matter what you faced, no matter what you decided, you would always have each other now. It didn’t matter that Price would come looking for your answer, it didn’t matter if the guys would be upset to hear you say no, it didn’t matter if you were nail bitingly eager and terrified in equal measure to say yes to Price.

König would be with you through it all, he could lend you his strength and you could give him your love and vice versa. You were your own team. Together you’d make contenders for anything. He was your rock and you were his light. You were going to be fighters until the end. 

[ncis-yp]

Ugh (Tony DiNozzo x reader) [SMUT]

Background: you and Tony had been working in different part of the NCIS you were working on a naval base but were called on in missions to help Abby or Ducky with pharmaceutical intelligence. You and Tony have been dating a few months and wanted to try sexting. You do it out of no where to surprise the other.

This morning you decided to stay home from work. After all, the pharmacy could live without you for a day, if any thing they’d call you. In the meantime, you decided you’d relax at home and get into one of the case study’s that Dr. Mallard asked you to review. Apparently there’s a combination of pills in there that Abby nor Dr. Mallard himself didn’t understand.

Tony was at already at work, you knew. But you decided you wouldn’t tell him you weren’t going. Before you had a chance to sit in your breakfast loft with your cats, Dre and Pac, your phone was buzzing. Two texts from Tony.

Tony: good morning! I passed by the Pharmacy to say good morning and offer to get you coffee. Where are you?

Tony: are you okay?

You smirked and sent back a spicy text… if you were gonna be home, you were gonna do things he couldn’t do.

You: aww that’s sweet :)

You: yeah, decided not to go work.

You: *sent photo*

Tony sat at his desk staring at a photo of you. You’re (e/c) eyes catching the early morning light, your hair pulled back haphazardly, or how you were only in your panties and an over the shoulder band tee.

Tony: wow… you’ve got me excited.

You: excited for what? Not like I did anything special

Tony: to see you. Looking like that in the morning

You: 🥰 aw so sweet! You should come over and see me

Tony: pretty girl… you know I’m at work

You: aww but can’t you take an early lunch to come see me sooner? You know I’d love to see you.

You: *sent photo*

You were playing hard ball. Teasing innocently, but God, that picture of you was so close to the opposite but Tony couldn’t say it was naughty or nice.

His open phone held a picture of you sitting with your legs crisscrossed and you hand between you thighs. He saved it and sent it to his album of pictures of you.

Tony: god you’re gorgeous. I’d love to see you too… trust me

You: thank you handsome

You: really though … come see me

Tony: I want to

You: then do it

You: *sent photo*

Tony’s heart jumped into throat. His stomach was twisting as his dick hardens in his pants. He takes a quick picture.

Tony: (y/n)…

Tony: *sent photo*

You couldn’t lie. Right now you were extremely horny. You don’t like how you teasing Tony turns into you getting needy and he won’t stop teasing.

You: I want that. Right now.

You: *sent photo*

Tony had sent himself to the bathroom to calm down. He was at work. He needed to focus. Maybe he could ask Gibbs to be on call since his apartment is being renovated. No. Work. ..Work. …Work. He managed to get somewhat of a grip. He opened his phone.

You. Legs open. Panties off and to the side. Shirt in your mouth. You were sitting in your bedroom, floor by the mirror. Your hand was between your legs, fingers in your pussy.

His mouth dropped and his dick was rock solid again. Fuck… fuck (y/n) fuck. He thought as his cock raged for her insides. He snapped a picture of himself in the mirror his dick print obvious.

Tony: look what you do to me

Tony: *sent photo*

Tony: do you see how hard my cock is for you right now?

You smiled. You were close to getting Tony. You were actively playing with your pussy, it wasn’t just for show.

You: *sent video*

Tony stood in shock. He heard your quiet moans and whimpering in the background as you slowly pleased yourself.

Tony: (y/n) wait until I get there to finish

You: oh, so you’re coming now?

Tony: no I’ll be there after work

You: sooo then I’m not waiting

You propped the phone up and set the three second timer. Making sure he saw you in action from the beginning. You laid on your back, unaware to any of the texts coming in.

Tony: (y/n) please wait.

Tony: I swear (y/n) if you cum without me your punishment will be so bad that the pleasure you’ll experience wouldn’t have been worth it

You: *sent video*

**”fuck… fuckkk” you fingered yourself at a medium pace. Racing for that orgasm. Your little whimpers began growing into deep moans. “Mmmmhmmm Tony” you groaned as you sped up pace. Roughly fucking yourself. You began tightening, body stiffening as you neared an orgasm. “Tony” you breathe as you begin to orgasm. You sped up. Almost at a feral speed to squirt. You sprayed the phone. Crying out Tony’s name and arching your back as you did.**

Tony: I’m on my way.

Tony rushed out of the bathroom to his desk. Fanning for his keys. Rushing out of the bullpen he brushed past Gibbs.

“Where you headed?”

“(L/n) isnt feeling well, her stomach hurts a lot and she can’t remember what she ate, but she’s really aching. She asked me to pick up some bread, some medicine, and Gatorade.”

“Okay”

“Can be on call today? So I can stay with her?”

“Sure. If you miss one call DiNozzo” Gibbs standing close to Tony. “I won’t let you miss work to play bookie with (y/n) anymore”

“Yeah boss”

“Good try tho. Rule #7” he acknowledged.

He ran out the building and sped to your apartment, parking his yellow ‘66 Mustang next to your black ‘78 challenger. He knocked on your door. Your tiny figure appeared in the door way. Wrapped comfortably in a blanket. He pushed you inside, picking you up as he closed the door. He kicked off his shoes as he kissed you all the way to kitchen, he set you on the bar. The two of you rushed to get most of his clothes off. You held his head as you continuously smashed your lips on his.

He set you down on floor. Pulling off his pants and boxers. He layes himself between your thighs.

“Fuck you, (y/n)” he whispered in your ear.

“Do it then, Anthony” you whisper in his. He rammed into you. You pulled his hair as he roughly fucked you on the floor.

“Do you know, how hard I tried to keep myself together (y/n)?” He bit your neck. Your nails scratching down his biceps as he fucked you relentlessly.

“No” you moan.

“No?” He growls. “Being here, dogging you before 12:00, on a Wednesday, isn’t a clue?” He said working on leaving hickeys in your neck and chest. You were leaving bite marks on his shoulders and you tightened around him. Moans of pleasure getting louder as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkk. You’re close aren’t you?” You nodded. “Tell me when you’re about to. I want to hear you say it.”

Your moans turned him on so much more.

“I’m coming” you say breathing heavily.

“What?”

“Fuck, Tony, I’m coming”

“One more time.” His grunted as he gave three rough pounds in between each word.

“Fuckkk Anthony! I’m coming, I’m coming” you began to tear up. He pulled out and flipped you you you were face down, ass up.

“No you’re not” he growls as he hammers your pussy. The sound of balls slapping skin, and moans and grunts fillling the room.

“I’m sorry” you cry. “Daddy please let me come.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes” you scream.

“Then show me” he says letting go of your hips. “Fuck me like this to show me you’re sorry” you o eyed. Throwing your body back on his roughly but at a staggered pace. He could see your body spending and he decided to finish you off. Just the way you liked it.

“I’m sorry I fucked up my rhythm” he says in your ear. “I just want you to see how gorgeous you look” he grabs your hair and pulls your head up. Your back arched, eyes red, and tears streaming down your face. You screamed as he roughly pounded you.

“Look at you” he said sweetly. “So pretty for daddy ” your faced moved as he dogged your clenching pussy hole. “Sooo fucking beautiful”

He slapped your ass. Three painfully enjoyable slaps. He began to make some marks in your hips.

“Fuck fuck fuck (y/n). Can I bust in there?” He groans as you begin to pull him to the edge. You nodded. “Can I cum in that tight pussy?” He asks again.

“Yes please, Tony, please” you cry your core burned. You began to orgasm. He pulled your head up again. “Let’s cum together” he says as he began orgasming, filling you up, you were soaking his dick with your juices, squirting around his dick.

“Good girl” he says as he fucked you till the end of his climax. Thrusts getting sloppy as he pulled out. He collapsed next to you on the floor, pulling you close to him.

“I hope I didn’t go to rough on you” he said apologetically. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“I’m a little sore.” You admit. “But it was definitely worth the punishment” you giggle kissing his chest.

“(Y/n) I don’t want to have hurt you… you know that right?” Tony speaks.

“Good… please (y/n) let me know if it too rough…” your kiss cuts him off. He smiles dazily.

“I’ll text if you hurt me. I’ll make sure I’m honest about things I do and don’t want, I will punch you if you ever do some thing I don’t like that you keep doing.” You propped yourself up on your elbow, admiring the hickeys you left all over him. And your bite marks on his shoulder.

“Yes, exactly “ he chuckles. Your neck and chest were covered with marks. Your hips had light purple bruises already forming and you wondered what your back looked like.

“I love you” you say to Tony.

“I love you too, (y/n)” he replies kissing you deeply. “I’m going to run you a shower. And I’ll order Thai?” You nodded. He stands and helps you up. Starting your bath for you. Slapping your ass as he walks away.

“Mmm” you smile.

“Sexy” he remarks with a wink. Once he turned his back looked absolutely destroyed. Crazy marks lined his back, blood bubbling towards the top.

[babsharrison]

Safe Haven - John Wick

(Chapter Seven)

Pairing | John Wick x Original Fem! Character

Summary | In search of a breath in his tumultuous life, John Wick finds himself in a charming bookstore where he meets a sweet and welcoming woman. As they grow closer, John questions whether she can love him despite the dark secrets he carries. While battling the shadows of his past, he must protect the love that is blossoming and discover if hope and redemption are truly possible.

Word Count | 3.0k

Trigger Warning: This scene contains themes of intimidation, unwanted physical proximity, verbal harassment, and implied violence. Reader discretion is advised.

A/N | I'm really excited about the direction I'm taking with the fic. I hope you guys enjoy it too! 🥰

Previous chapter!

John stood motionless, but every fiber of his being was on alert, his eyes fixed on Marco's. His appearance there was more than just a coincidence, and both of them knew it. Marco held John's gaze, as if it were a silent challenge, a reminder of how close he still was to the shadows of the past.

Mia, however, seemed oblivious to the silent confrontation between them, and a soft smile appeared on her face as she thanked him for the purchase. "I hope you enjoy the book, Mr. Vitale," she said, gesturing to the volume with the kindness that was her trademark.

Marco smiled with a touch of malice, and before stepping away, he gently took Mia's hand, leaning in to plant a kiss on its back. "The pleasure was all mine, Miss," he said, his voice laden with calculated charm. "I hope we can meet again."

That gesture made something ignite in John's eyes, but he did not react. Instead, he remained silent, his expression now cold and almost impassive, though the look he gave Marco was sharp as a blade.

Marco stepped back, giving John one last glance, a smile full of intent lingering on his lips, before disappearing into the park. His presence still seemed to weigh, even from a distance, and the air around them became thick with an invisible but palpable tension.

When Marco finally disappeared, Mia turned to John, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Quite the gentleman. Do you know him?"

John looked away, his face even colder after Mia's comment. He kept his tone dry and direct, almost as if trying to end the conversation before it even began.

"I know enough to say you should keep your distance," he replied, his voice low but heavy with seriousness, causing Mia's smile to falter.

She stared at him, surprised by his intense reaction and sudden distance. It was the first time she had seen John like this—a rigid and impenetrable figure, almost as though he were building an invisible wall around himself. Her response was only a restrained nod, realizing the importance that warning seemed to have for him.

For a moment, silence hung between them, thick and uncomfortable, until John, without offering further explanation, gave a slight nod and walked away toward the opposite side of the makeshift bookstore. Mia watched him with mixed confusion and unease growing in her chest.

Even though she didn’t understand the reason for the warning, she felt a strange sense of security in his seriousness—a side of him that rarely showed. And although she couldn’t guess what John was hiding behind that look, one thing was clear: he carried, in silence, a weight much heavier than anyone she had ever known.

Mia followed John's stiff movement as he walked away through the park's grass, his back straight, almost impenetrable in his distant posture. He didn’t look back, and the sound of his footsteps was swallowed by the gentle breeze that danced among the leaves. Watching him slowly disappear among the trees, a bitter feeling took over her.

She suddenly felt alone, as though the brief moment of closeness they had shared had been nothing more than an illusion, unraveled too quickly. A sharp pang of hurt throbbed in her chest as the question echoed in her mind: What had she done to deserve such coldness?

Mia turned to the stack of disorganized books on the small table, trying to distract herself with the familiar covers and spines. The touch on the worn volumes should have been comforting, something that always brought her silent peace, but now everything seemed to lose its luster. She let out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting into emptiness, trying to shake off the persistent discomfort that John's presence—and sudden absence—had left behind.

Days turned into weeks, and with a certain heaviness in her chest, Mia noticed that John no longer came to the bookstore. At first, she tried not to pay it too much attention, but over time, she realized she missed that unusual customer, the few words, and that deep look that seemed to carry a silent burden. Every time the door opened, her heart hesitated, hoping to see him cross the threshold and give her that almost imperceptible nod.

Despite everything, Mia felt deeply grateful for the success of the event. New customers arrived every day, drawn by the welcoming atmosphere of the bookstore, and Tom seemed to share her gratitude, with a satisfied smile that rarely left his face. But even with the positive movement, Mia found herself distracted, unable to shake a certain thought. Every time she tried to relax and enjoy the moment, the memory of that man returned—how he had walked away through the park with a coldness that still unsettled her.

She wanted to ignore it. After all, he wasn’t anyone special, just a customer. But it was strange how the memory of that encounter insisted on lodging itself in her mind, making her heart race in a way she considered foolish. It was almost as if his absence left behind an unease. She shook her head as though she could push the thoughts away, but they always returned, stronger, leaving behind curiosity and a slight desire to see him again, even though she would never admit it to herself.

As the days passed, the restlessness grew. With every new opening of the door, her eyes involuntarily turned, hoping—or perhaps fearing—to find him there. And while she tried to convince herself that he was just any other person, the silent interest continued to grow inside her, like something delicate and unexpected that she didn’t quite know how to handle.

On the other side of the city, John moved with the same silence, but in a much more hostile setting. He had tried to read the book Mia said was her favorite, as if those pages were the only bridge still connecting him to her. The idea that Marco Vitale or any other dangerous man had come close to Mia filled him with a mixture of rage and, to his own surprise, jealousy. He didn’t know where that feeling came from, but there was something about Mia, the way she cared for the bookstore, that he felt was meant only for him—a peace she had unexpectedly brought into his life.

The danger, however, had come too close, and John knew he needed to pull away to protect what, in some way, had become important to him. He moved through the shadows of the alley, senses alert, as the muffled voices of Marco Vitale’s goons cut through the heavy night air.

"You thought you could show up here and leave unscathed, Wick?" one voice mocked from the darkness, dripping with contempt. One of the goons raised his weapon, the threat clear in his eyes.

John didn’t respond. His eyes focused on the thug in front of him, quickly assessing the situation, planning his next moves with near-calculating precision. In one second, a snap echoed through the alley—a sudden move, a precise strike. The nearest goon collapsed, the weapon falling from his hands with a dull thud.

The second man hesitated, but it was too late. John was already in motion, moving like a shadow. In seconds, he had subdued the thug, holding him at gunpoint and pressing the truth with a firm, threatening voice:

"Tell me where Marco is, and maybe you’ll get out of here today."

The thug gasped for air, fear blatantly written on his face. “You… you don’t know?” His voice trembled, and his pale face glistened with sweat under the faint light of the alley. With John’s unyielding gaze fixed on his eyes, the thug gave in, mumbling what he knew. “Vitale… he wants to settle scores with… with that girl… the one from the bookstore…”

The words fell like stones. John froze for a moment, his eyes hardening. Marco was going after Mia. She had probably caught Marco’s attention during their encounter at the bookstore—and upon noticing John’s silent interest in Mia, he now saw her as a vulnerability, something to be exploited or eliminated. John knew he had no time to waste.

With a swift motion, he shot the thug, with no chance for pursuit, and disappeared into the shadows.

At the bookstore, Mia was finishing the last stack of books, the shop now shrouded in a dimness that seemed heavier and more unsettling. As she locked the door, a muffled sound echoed through the shelves, and she quickly turned, her heart racing. There, in front of her, was a man she had never seen before. His gaze was a mix of disdain and perverse pleasure, and the smile he gave was cold and unsettling, sending a chill down her spine.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady but feeling a chill spread through her body.

He simply smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, carrying a nearly palpable malice. “Closed? Oh, I know. But I thought we could… extend the hours,” he said, taking a step forward, his gaze predatory.

Mia felt a lump form in her throat, her heart quickening. “Please, leave,” she repeated, her voice trembling, instinctively taking a step back. But the man continued to approach slowly, and she noticed he was watching her with unsettling intensity, like a hunter about to strike.

“Don’t be so rude,” he murmured, reaching out to grab something from the counter—an almost casual movement, but one that made Mia step back even further. Every inch of distance felt precious, and she felt like an animal cornered. He kept moving forward, his expression too relaxed, making everything even more unnerving.

She tried to think quickly of an escape, but he was already in front of the door, blocking any chance of fleeing. “I said we’re closed,” she repeated, almost whispering, her courage wavering with every word.

The intruder let out a low, cold laugh, stepping closer. “Relax, girl. I just want to talk. Is that so hard?”

Mia felt a knot form in her throat, her heart racing. “Please, leave,” she repeated, her voice trembling as she instinctively took a step back. But the man continued to move closer, and she noticed how he watched her with a disconcerting intensity, like a hunter about to strike.

“Don’t be so unfriendly,” he murmured, reaching out to grab something from the counter—a casual move, but it made Mia retreat even further. Every inch of distance felt precious, and she felt like an animal cornered. He kept advancing, his expression too relaxed, which made everything even more unsettling.

She tried to think quickly of an escape, but he was already in front of the door, blocking any chance of fleeing. “I said we’re closed,” she repeated, almost in a whisper, her courage wavering with each word.

The intruder let out a low, cold laugh, moving closer. “Relax, girl. I just want to talk. Is that so hard?”

Mia took another step back until her back touched the counter, with no more room to retreat. “Please, just go,” she insisted, her tone now a plea masked by authority, but he only watched her, relentless.

“Do you work here alone?” he asked, ignoring any trace of formality or boundaries. He got so close that Mia could smell cigarette smoke on his clothes, making her feel a wave of nausea and panic.

She tried to move to the side, attempting to escape, but he stretched out his arm, blocking her path. His eyes were fixed on her, as if testing her, relishing the terror that was beginning to dominate her gaze.

Mia clenched her fists, trying to control the trembling in her hands. Her heart pounded so loudly that she could barely hear her own thoughts. “If you don’t leave now, I… I’ll call the police,” she threatened, though her voice betrayed the desperation she was trying to hide.

He laughed again, as if amused by her words. “Really? Good luck with that.” His voice dripped with mockery, and he reached out to touch a loose strand of hair by her face, causing her to instinctively pull back, though there was nowhere else to retreat.

Mia’s throat was dry, fear paralyzing her, and her mind was spinning. She felt her breath quicken, her heart racing, the panic growing with every passing second. She knew she had no strength to push him away and that she was completely alone. The environment that once felt like a refuge now seemed like a suffocating prison.

Suddenly, a distant, heavy sound broke the silence, and the figure of the man turned for a moment, just enough for Mia to notice a shadow in the doorway. In an instant, John was there, and the relief she felt was so intense that she could barely contain a shaky sigh.

John entered slowly, his eyes fixed on the man with deadly intensity, his face impassive and unshaken. He didn’t say a word, but the coldness in his gaze spoke for itself. With a smooth, but firm movement, he placed himself between Mia and the intruder.

The invader looked at John, his earlier confidence beginning to fade in the face of John’s threatening presence. “Who the hell are you?” the man asked, trying to regain control of the situation.

John tilted his head slightly but remained silent, and the stranger quickly realized that any move he made would be a mistake. John took a step forward, forcing the intruder to retreat another step until his back hit the shelves, with no room to escape.

The man gave a derisive, challenging smile, eyeing John up and down. “You know, you seem pretty brave for someone who hangs around a bookstore, Boogeyman…” he taunted, his tone dripping with disdain, trying to break John’s unshakeable calm.

John narrowed his eyes, his posture rigid as steel. Slowly, he took off his jacket and placed it on the counter next to him, revealing a discreet holster on his belt. “Last chance to leave in one piece,” he said, his voice low and controlled, with no trace of threat—just the promise of something inevitable.

The henchman laughed and lunged at John, but before his punch could land, John moved. In an instant, he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, making him groan in pain. Without giving him time to react, John spun him around and landed a precise blow to the back of his knee, forcing him to drop to the ground with a grunt.

Mia, leaning against the counter, watched everything with a mixture of fascination and fear. Each of John’s movements was calculated, like a dangerous dance—quick and precise. The man tried to get up, but John held him firmly, his voice now slightly more intense. “Who sent you here?” he asked, giving no room for excuses.

The henchman, panting and panicked, mumbled something incoherent. John abruptly released him, only to knock him down again with a direct blow to the face. When the man fell, dazed, John grabbed him by the collar and lifted him, forcing him to look at him.

“I asked who sent you,” John repeated, his tone threatening. At the man’s hesitant silence, John let him go without ceremony, letting him fall to the ground with force. The intruder, terrified, looked at John and finally gave in, revealing the name Marco Vitale and the order to attack Mia.

John approached the henchman, each step a silent reminder of the imminent danger. His eyes remained steady, as cold as blades, while the cornered man tried to disguise his panic. John stopped, close enough to intimidate him, but with a deadly calm that threatened to explode at any moment.

“You… you’re not going to do anything to me here, are you?” The henchman tried to maintain a challenging tone, but his voice came out shaky, revealing his fear.

Mia, still leaning against the wall, watched everything without being able to look away. John’s presence, usually so enigmatic, now seemed like an impenetrable wall between her and the danger. But the way he stared at the man in front of him—the ruthless firmness in his eyes—brought out something she hadn’t imagined. This was a side of John she had never dreamed of seeing: a patient, calculating predator, capable of deciding life and death with a simple look. She was terrified.

Taking a deep breath, John leaned toward the henchman. For a moment, Mia feared he was going to end the man’s life right there. But instead, he stepped back, his cold gaze unwavering. His decision to spare the intruder seemed to reflect a strange kind of respect, as though he was considering Mia's presence in the room.

"Leave," John murmured, his voice low and threatening. "Tell Marco he made a mistake. He’ll only get one chance to fix it."

The henchman didn’t hesitate; he stumbled out, breathing heavily, while Mia stood frozen in place, trying to process the violence that had just unfolded before her. The silence in the room felt thick, charged with the weight of what had happened. Mia's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with confusion and disbelief.

John, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took a slow step closer. His voice was softer now, almost gentle, but there was no mistaking the urgency in his words.

"It’s too dangerous for you to stay here," he said, his gaze lingering on her. "You need to come with me, at least until I can ensure your safety."

Mia stared at him, struggling to find words. Her hands trembled, and her body was still frozen from the shock. She could feel the weight of his presence, the raw tension in the air between them. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts: she knew the danger she was in, but something about John—his control, his coldness, the way he spared the man’s life—made her hesitate.

Yet, the situation was beyond her control. Without a word, she nodded, her eyes avoiding his. It wasn’t trust that led her to follow him—it was instinct, the need to get out of there, to find safety. Her pulse raced, and every part of her felt on edge, but she didn’t know where else to go.

John noticed her hesitation, the way she couldn’t quite meet his gaze, the invisible distance that had formed between them. He understood it. But it still hurt in a way he wasn’t used to. Usually, when he extended protection, it was accepted without question. But not from Mia.

Without a word, he turned to lead the way, and Mia followed, her movements slow and cautious. Every step felt heavy, as though the weight of their unspoken tension pressed on her chest. John’s presence was no longer the source of comfort it once might have been. Now, it only added to the confusion and fear that had taken hold of her.

[ash5monster01]

Hii! I’ve just seen a prompt that goes: “You don’t talk much.” — “I just really like listening to you, that’s all.” and it made me think of Todd Anderson ✨🥰 soo, if you could do something fluffy based on that prompt, it would be great

Enough For The Both of Us

Pairing: Todd Anderson x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, blabbing, minor sadness, mentions of being shy, lack of friends

Summary: When getting partnered up for class, you’re desperate to make this mystery guy your friend. Yet maybe things work out a little better than that.

word count: 1k

Masterlist

College was supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you thought. It had been two weeks and you had yet to make friends. Even your roommate had left you behind, finding a group she didn’t bother to include you in. It had become hopeless, that was until your English professor announced an assignment. An assignment that required you to partner up and work on for a full two weeks. A golden opportunity of guaranteed time to make a friend. Yet with just your luck the name placed beside your own on the list is not a female name. Instead you eye the suspicious lettering of a boy named Todd.

Yet you don’t falter, you take it with stride. Boys and girls could be friends right? At least not in your experience but you had also never tried. It didn’t help you went to an all girls school before this. Boys were new territory, something meant to explore once you made friends in college. You’d just have to do things out of order now, which you remind yourself of that as you start your trek to the school library. The very place you had agreed to meet this so called Todd.

He’s not hard to find, a blonde boy with shy eyes who raises a sheepish hand to flag you down. You shuffle towards him immediately, dropping your school books as you sit in the seat beside him instead of across from him. The action makes him blush while you pull out the assignment from class. “Hi Todd, it’s nice to meet you. I’m excited for us to start working on this project together”

“Y-yeah. Me too” the boy stutters, eyes never quite meeting your own as he turns to face his own work on the table.

“I was thinking we could be friends Todd. I need a friend around here and the person forced to work on a project with me is better than any” you tell him, filling in the conversation where he lacks. You figure with his shy nature he won't put up much of a fight. Perfect.

"Okay" he sounds uneasy but you don't give him much time to think about it as you finally organize all the papers in front of you.

"Not to say I'm not cool or anything. I'm really cool, I just haven't found the right crowd around here yet. If I'm being honest I was kind of upset I wasn't partnered with another girl. Not that a boy is bad but it would be nice to have a girlfriend first to talk to about all the boy stuff. Like you're cute, but I couldn’t tell you that" you ramble, not even a semblance of vulnerabilty as you speak. That's why Todd stares at you with such awe, shocked at how easy it is for you to communicate and not regret it after. He had been better, no longer the meek boy he once was, fading like a dying flame but he also was no where near the level of confidence you were.

"You just did" Todd points out, the tips of his ears burning red as he tries not to dwell on how pretty you are. He had thought it had to be some curse that the beautiful girl he couldn't stop staring at in class somehow got partnered up with him.

"I guess you're right, well either way I'm sure you have some guy friends and get what I mean. It's not like we can share every detail of our lives with each other, it's unnatural. We're so different" and as much as Todd wants to disagree, having only been surrounded by boys his whole life he would have to understand.

"Different how?" Todd inquires, other than the obvious gender difference he wants to hear what this gorgeous girl had already deemed of him in only five minutes of her blabbing and him sitting here and silently listening. If he had the confidence of Charlie or Neil he would’ve asked you on a date already, stopped this silly friend train because there was no way he could possibly be friends with someone who looked like you.

"Well you know, boy, girl. I'm outgoing and you're, well you're just sitting here" you say with a serious look that has a laugh escaping Todds lips and betraying him. The minute the sound reaches your ears his face is as red as a tomato, but she only finds the boy impossibly cuter. Curse you for all this rambling about being friends when you really should've been flirting this whole time.

"Okay" Todd agrees after a moment, nodding his head along and trying to look away before you could see just how red his whole body was from this simple conversation with you. To think you hadn't even started working on a project yet.

"You don’t talk much" you state, looking at him with suspicous eyes and trying to understand the entirety of him. What a mystery this boy was.

“I just really like listening to you, that’s all” he finally says with a slight confidence you hadn't thought him capable. The shock of his words makes your nerves buzz inside you. You knew you could talk to much but to have someone speak so fondly of it was different. Mainly you were picked on for never holding your tongue and instead a boy had complimented you on it. A cute boy at that.

"So I haven't annoyed you yet, scared you away?" You ask curiously, hoping he won't say he was just messing with you. It was possible he could still up and leave, request another partner, and you had humiliated yourself.

"The opposite actually. It's nice being around someone who talks enough for the both of us" the sentence reminds him of Neil, a sad smile painting his features as you let the words wash over you. The most he had said directly to you since you had sat in this seat.

"Than this partnership might just work Todd" you grin and he blushes again, liking you hadn't used the word friend. Especially now that he wanted to be much more than your friend.

"Agreed"

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Caught IV ~

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader

masterlist

I really wanted to do a holiday part(s), I was thinking Halloween at first but it doesn’t really fit in what I’ve got so far, so I’m settling for Christmas even though it’s August🥰🥰

Warnings:Language,Drugs&Alc,Fluff, Angst,Unwanted Flirting,Smut Adjacent.

“Oh come on, you two really need to spend time with people that aren’t each other,” Enzo sighed, “It’ll be fun I swear,” Enzo was now on day two of desperately trying to get you and Mattheo to attend the Christmas party Slytherin was throwing as a goodbye before the holiday. Mattheo saw it as the perfect opportunity to get some alone time while everyone was distracted but you, on the other hand, thought it would be a great idea to go before you left for your depressing Manor. So naturally Mattheo already decided you’d both be going.

“It’ll be a fun way to celebrate our one year, don’t y’think?” You sighed, eyes shut as Mattheo massaged your shoulders from behind you with a smile while you sat between his legs.

“ONE YEAR?!?” Enzo gasped dramatically as he abruptly sat up on his bed across from you, “a whole year….seriously?….and I didn’t know?” Enzo gaped at you both as you simply chuckled at his reaction.

“Uh yeah, that’s the whole point of a secret relationship, no one knows,” Mattheo said with a roll of his eyes as he focused on working his thumbs up the back of your neck in circles, smiling at you as his actions forced a comforted sigh from your lips.

“Oh right,” Mattheo felt your shoulders fall as it clicked in your mind that you’d have to keep up the image of best friends for this weekend’s party, “I almost forgot we’ll have to act like friends around everyone else,” You sighed sadly as Mattheo’s hands stilled on your shoulders and neck, his eyes scanning the back of your head and side of your face.

Your friends, though not understanding of privacy, did respect your wishes and helped keep your relationship secret from everyone but them. However, now that you had gotten the taste of a free relationship, you wanted more. Even though you were worried the outcome would be less than desirable, you were much more worried that hiding it would ruin your relationship in the long run.

“Well we don’t have to Lovely,” Mattheo said, hiding the excitement in his voice at the idea of every one knowing he was yours. “No, no you said it yourself….it’s for the best.” You sighed, turning in his arms and wrapping yours around his waist, snuggling your face into his chest.

“Yeah, yeah I did didn’t I” Mattheo sighed, cursing his past self for being a complete moron as he held you. You both fell into your own thoughts, Mattheo absentmindedly rubbing his hand through your hair with a sour face as Enzo eyed you suspiciously from across the room.

As the party approached, you were growing less and less excited for it. Even though you knew the atmosphere would be amazing, as were all Slytherin parties, the thought of having to distance yourself from your boyfriend hurt. Especially when you knew what always happened when you two used to go to parties. Someone would always come up to flirt with Mattheo and even though he would always immediately shut them down, he couldn’t tell them you were the reasoning. A fact that hurt him much more than you knew in this moment.

As you dressed yourself for the party in your dorm that Saturday night, the pit in your stomach every time you thought about your relationship began to overtake your emotions. You knew Mattheo loved you, at least you were pretty certain of it now, but you feared he’d never wish to go public. You knew he loved the excitement of your time together, he made that very clear every time you’d meet in an empty class at night or in a broom closet during class.

You just never really thought about the fact that you would be celebrating your one year anniversary as friends. And suddenly, you were regretting your decision to go to the party all together. You sighed, standing in front of the body length mirror by your bed as Mattheo walked into your dorm behind you, shutting the door with a whistle.

“Damn Baby, you look amazing,” He whispered mostly to himself, his eyes wandering down your body as you turned to look at him approaching you with a smile. You felt happy and content now with him in the room, you wanted it to stay that way, and you wanted everyone to know about it. “You still wanna do this Mattheo?” You sighed as he came up to you, smiling ear to ear, showing off his dimples.

“Ooooooh yeah, gettin’ excited now Princess,” He said energetically as you gave him a questioning look with a raised eyebrow, “Well think about it, we get to dance all night and no one can question it or be weird about it because we’re so close.” Mattheo said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, lengthening the word “close” as he winked and bit his lip.

You giggled and smiled up at him before turning back to the mirror to inspect your look. Your hair was straightened and falling behind your shoulders, you decided for only little makeup, knowing either sweat, Mattheo, or both, would be ruining it if you had put work into it.

“Is this outfit okay? I love the way it looks on me but it’s a little provocative no? Dress is a little short and it shows a lot.” You sighed, looking at the tight black ribbon choker and equally tight black, deep v-neck dress that stopped in the middle of your thighs.

“Thats okay Lovely, you wear what you want because you’re bloody perfect and I know how to fight.” Mattheo said with a casual shrug of his shoulders as his hands found your waist and his lips met your shoulder, making you shiver as they trailed up your neck and behind your ear as he met your eyes in the mirror. “And, selfishly, because seeing you in this dress all night will be like heaven” He chuckled and jerked your hips against his hard dick in his pants, biting your neck lightly.

You giggled and turned to look up at him, draping your arms around his neck while he absentmindedly felt up and down your waist, letting your dress slowly ride up your thighs. You both looked at each other with wide smiles before your lips smashed together and your hands found his hair, tugging on it and making him moan, letting your tongues fight for dominance when his mouth opened. He quickly had you pinned to your wall as his tongue battled yours, winning and nipping at your bottom lip in celebration, making you whimper and tug his hair harder.

“Fuck I love this fucking dress,” Mattheo growled against your lips. As his hands began to trail up and beneath the fabric your door swung open to hoots and cheers as your four best friends barged through the door. They were clearly already intoxicated from pre-gaming as they stumbled and laughed through your room in their nice outfits.

“Merlin y/n I never noticed how amazing your ass is,” Draco slurred, making you cringe as he flopped on your roommates bed with a bottle of Fire Whiskey. Mattheo, who had already pulled your dress down and flattened your messy hair, eyed him with a murderous glare that had your thighs clenching together behind him.

“If I ever find out you said something like that again I’ll punch you in your face. Understand?” Mattheo said calmly as Draco laughed it off, Theo and Blaise giving the blonde a worried look while Enzo laughed loudly and dramatically at his stupidity.

“I warned him, you three heard me, can’t blame me for what happens if he’s an idiot.” Mattheo said with a shrug as he grabbed his jacket and your hand, pulling you to the door as your friends followed.

To your surprise, even though he found the action quite normal, Mattheo kept his hand in yours as he worked his way up the already packed stairs to the common room. The loud pounding music became louder as Mattheo pulled you up the stairs and through the door with a smile as the dancing bodies surrounded you. He was glancing back at you every once in a while, keeping his hand in yours all the way to the drink table as to not lose you.

The music was honestly all over the place, random people going and back and forth magically magnifying songs they liked, some muggle, some not. The invitation seemed to have been extended to every house, though very few Gryffindors would ever be caught dead in the Slytherin common room. Fred and George Weasley, who would rather lose all their joke shop money than miss a party, were selling various products out of a hazy corner that Theo and Blaise immediately migrated to.

You decided it was smartest for you to avoid the back corner as you instead opted to drown your worried thoughts in alcohol. You removed your hand from Mattheo’s as he watched you fill a red cup with spiked punch, just to down it and get another. His hand hovered over a half empty bottle of Fire Whiskey as he looked at the drink in your hand with narrowed eyes, pulling his hand back from the liquor and into his pocket before you could see. Mattheo hated feeling like a controlling boyfriend, but seeing you down alcohol in a crowded party made him anxious, he would never tell you what to do with your life but he would watch you like a hawk every second of the night, and to do that he had to be sober.

“Fuck, we’re dancing to this, come on,” You almost shrieked over the beginning of “Best I Ever Had” Mattheo eyed you as you dragged him by his hand into the middle of the party, smiling when he realized absolutely everyone could see the both of you. He, of course, had already planned on subtly making everyone question whether or not you were best friends or lovers, but he was excited to see it was you pushing the boundaries.

Mattheo’s eyes locked onto you as you danced, back facing him with your hands in the air, swaying your hips and moving your body in sync with his. He had absolutely no clue what song was playing but as you moved back and forth in front of him, the lyrics fit perfectly to his clouded thoughts and suddenly it was his favorite song. As he watched you, he couldn’t resist ghosting his hands over your waist every once in a while, being sure not to linger too long despite a growing desire to tug you against him and whisper the lyrics in your ear.

As the song came to an end and a new one began your friends were suddenly surrounding you with shouts as the bass and screamed lyrics of “Team” drowned out your giggles before Theo and Draco pulled Mattheo on their shoulders with howls of laughter.

“Enzo no…..I will scream…..BLAISE!!” You all were laughing and yelling as Blaise and Enzo propped you up, making you level with Mattheo as the song sped up. Mattheo’s smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it as his eyes twinkled with the thoughts of being able to kiss you in an exhilarating public display of affection just like this. You faltered at the sight of just how happy he was, unaware of his true thoughts on hiding your relationship, before the bright flash of a camera brought you out of your thoughts as the song slowed and you were placed softly on the ground by Enzo, before he was rushing off to a girl you didn’t know.

You’re head was dizzy from chugging drinks on an empty stomach and, stumbling now, you made your way to Mattheo, yelling close to his ear that you were going to get another drink. His eyes shot to yours, filled with worry you were too tipsy to recognize.

“Just one more okay?” Mattheo said softly as you went off to get another cup of spiked punch. Mattheo folded his arms over his chest as he watched you cross the room of sweaty bodies, his worry growing every second you were away from him.

“Hey Mattheo, here….I noticed you didnt get a drink so I got you some Fire Whiskey,” Mattheo had his eyes on you, not paying attention to the seemingly very drunk girl speaking to him as he watched you stumble your way through the crowd to the drinks table. “Keep it, I’m looking after someone,”

“Oh please, y/n doesn’t need her best friend smothering her. Let loose and take the cup Matty,” Mattheo cringed and finally looked to the girl, “Sorry do I know you?” He asked in a harsh tone.

“Well not exactly bu-“ he stopped her speaking with a hand in the air beside his chest, eyes darting back to you every couple seconds. “Then why are you here trying to give me stupid nicknames?”

The girl was clearly taken aback but stood her ground , “Well I was hoping I could get to know you better, I know you don’t get with girls like you used to so I’m sure you need to be satisfied.” The emphasis put on the word satisfied had Mattheo cringing again, “I’m perfectly satisfied thanks,” He said with a roll of his eyes, eyeing you across the room again as you drank not one but two cups of punch before filling it again and starting to come back.

“Maybe you just don’t know how good you can have it,” her confidence seemed to spike as she stepped closer, putting a hand on his bicep as she continued, “I can make you feel much better than all those other girls you’ve been with,” Her voice was soft and disgustingly sweet as he shook her hand off his muscle, growing very angry at the girl’s presence.

“Look I’m not-“ Mattheo started aggressively before your angry face distracted him, lodging the words in his throat .

“Who’s she?” He rushed to try and respond to your question before the girl spoke over him, “Hopefully the girl getting railed by Mattheo Riddle tonight.” She giggled drunkenly as you eyed her, apparently oblivious to the death glare you were sending her.

“Well tough luck bitch because that’ll be me.” You spat out without thinking, “Infact, it’s always gonna be me.” You rolled your eyes as you downed your new drink before throwing the cup on the floor with a clatter. Mattheo’s eyes twinkled as he watched your face, the word always on repeat in his head as his smile slowly took over his face.

Your jealousy was evident as you eyed the girl in front of you with disgust. You rolled your eyes at her dumbfounded expression before grabbing Mattheo’s wrist and yanking him towards you so he was now next to you, proudly smirking down at you as you started up again.

“I think you should leave before you embarrass yourself further okay?” You said in the most condescending and rude voice you could muster as the girl’s eyes darted between you and Mattheo with realization setting in.

“Ohhh,” She whispered softly to herself, “I’m sorry I didnt know,” She slurred as she backed away, stumbling broadly.

“Why don’t you go find someone single to shag.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you began dragging a dazed Mattheo to a nearby corner. Mattheo couldn’t form words as he relished in the thought of you being jealous over him. You wanting him, always. You openly recognizing your relationship around so many people.

“Fuck y/n, what’s gotten into you,” He sighed with a smile as he watched your eyebrows bunch together, angry eyes finding his.

“Yeah whatever, sorry I blew our big secret.” You snapped as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, the alcohol inhibiting your logical thinking skills. Mattheo’s smile immediately fell at your words before he was snapping right back.

“Baby what?!?” His eyes narrowed, taking in your watery eyes and slurred words, “I’m not mad at you,” He sighed, moving closer to place a hand on your shoulder, reassuringly. “What’s wrong Lovely,” He sighed as he brought you into his arms, hugging your tightly as you spoke into his shoulder.

“I just….I just keep thinking that if we keep this hidden until we leave Hogwarts we……well we won’t know how to be a couple after.” As you pushed yourself away from him to watch his face you began to ramble and let tears fall down your warm red cheeks, not meeting his eyes, “What if we’ve gotten so used to stolen time together in empty corridors and abandoned classrooms that we won’t know how to go on proper dates or spend time together without the thrill of getting caught.” You took deep breaths, steading your breathing as he waited for you to finish. “What if you dont want it anymore after the excitement is lost….?”

“No y/n, don’t ever think that.” He slightly scoffed, offended at your words, “The excitement I crave from our relationship isn’t from the secrecy, it’s from you.” Mattheo stopped, taking your hand in his as he breathed slowly, “You excite me in every way possible, no matter where we are or who we’re with,” He said through a sigh of happiness as a wide smile grew on his face at finally getting to acknowledge your relationship in public. “When I look at you my heart fucking races at a ridiculous, slightly embarrassing pace and I lose all other thoughts. If everyone here knew that you’re the love of my life, my heart would still race, and my mind would fill with thoughts of you. In a crowded room like this I just see you, so what makes you think that would change when everyone in it knows I’m yours?”

You shrugged weakly, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet as your eyes locked onto your shoes, you were too embarrassed to explain your thinking. Mattheo chuckled as he pulled you into a hug, “Don’t worry Baby, I’m not going anywhere,”

“Plus,” Mattheo added as he squeezed you harder and leant down to whisper in your ear, “There are other ways to feel the thrill of getting caught Princess,” He chuckled at your red cheeks as you looked up at him with wide eyes, “Just not tonight, we need to get you sobered up, but first.” Mattheo stopped, looking around as though searching for something.

Before long he snatched your wrist into his large hand as he pulled you to a coffee table in the center of the room, stepping on it and pulling you with him by your waist as everyone’s eyes began turning to you. You’re face felt hot and you suddenly felt very aware of your exposed legs and chest even in your drunken state.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted everyone to know that y/n y/l/n is my girlfriend,” Cheers and whistles from your best friends came from the back corner as Mattheo held you to him with a firm grip on your waist, “We’ve been together for a year and are very, very exclusive,” Mattheo wrapped up his speech, pulling you into kiss through cheers of congratulations and shouts of “Suspected all along” as you giggled to each other and ignored the dirty looks from girls all around the common room.

Mattheo held you in a tight hug as you scanned the room, taking in the excitement around you as the party and music continued. To your shock and confusion, you caught a glimpse of Enzo slipping a handful of galleons into the same drunk girl’s hand that had been flirting with Mattheo, only she seemed very sober now. When Enzo’s eyes caught yours he sent you a wink and flashed a mischievous grin as he retreated to the back corner with your other friends.

In your drunken state you didn’t quite understand but by the next morning when you were hungover and packing your trunk, it clicked. You chuckled to yourself as you rushed to quickly finish your packing before making your way through the uncleaned common room to the boys dorms.

“You’re a sneaky little git you know that?” You laughed as you chucked the closest book at a half asleep Enzo.

“Wha?” He mumbled as his eyes adjusted on your face, “Oh right, yes I am aren’t I,” He chuckled through a yawn as he stretched in his bed. “That could have gone really poorly y’know, what if Mattheo had accepted?” You asked, Enzo laughing at you as you stared down at him with a quizzical look.

“Oh you’re serious….Mattheo is madly in love with you y/n/n, there is no universe where that ever would have happened.” You chuckled at him with red cheeks as your conversation began to stir the other boys.

“What are you dong here so early Lovely?” Mattheo asked from the doorway of the bathroom, his hair was wet and drips of water traced down his toned chest to the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Scolding our friend for his foul plan to get us to announce our relationship.” You and Enzo laughed together as Mattheo looked at you both suspiciously before you explained.

After you had said your goodbyes you and Mattheo decided to send the few hours before you left for your Manor together at the Black Lake. Mattheo took his opportunity to get your first public date perfect and surprised you with a brunch picnic that he planned entirely based on your previous requests and fantasies. So much so you were surprised at how much he remembered of your late night Astronomy Tower picnic dates where you had gushed about your perfect date with him one day.

“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much” Mattheo sighed as he held you to him, kissing the side of your head before pulling away to kiss your lips. “I’ll owl you everyday, oh and you won’t get your presents on Christmas because I want to see you open them, so don’t think I forgot okay?”

You giggled as you gave him one last hug and got into the carriage, waving through the window as it left the castle. Despite not wanting to leave at all, you were rather comforted by the fact that when you returned everyone would know you and Mattheo were a couple. Once the carriage was out of sight completely Mattheo made his way back down to the dungeons, now in a significantly more annoyed mood, never having mentioned he was never truly happy without you.

~~~~

-Spotify links to songs mentioned-

Best I Ever Had ~ Drake

Team ~ Mag.Lo

~~~~

Caught V

Caught VI

There will be more parts☺️

@80scinemvasworld @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @nevillescomslut @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow

~~~~

[planetpedri]

Hi!!! I see you write for majority of fc barca and was wondering if you could throw in a little Fermin? They’re at the beach and he wants to actually go out and swim and whatnot and reader was set on watching him (that being the agreement) but him being him, he persuades her and it’s just fluff. Love your writing!! 🥰🥰

Sun to me — Fermín Lopez.

Pairing: Fermín Lopez x Fem!Reader (could be gn)

Summary: You had agreed to go to the beach with your boyfriend on one simple condition, he didn’t make you go in the water. But of course, Fermín being Fermín, had somehow managed to convince you anyways.

Disclaimer/s: Playful threats! nothing actually serious though! Reader has a case of Thalassophobia …

A/N: guys you don’t understand how insane that thread of his made me. idk if i want him or berta more.

Waves lapped at the sandy beach’s shore, providing a calming background noise as you laid on your beach towel. The sun beat down against your skin and sweat glistened across you. Everything was perfect, until it wasn’t.

Constant shuffling and barely audible huffs of breath from your boyfriend made it so you couldn’t fully relax. Eventually, after it kept going on for well over twenty minutes, you pick your head up. “May I help you?”

Fermín hums, facing you with an innocent smile. “What?” Seriously.

“Fer, what do you want.” You ask, forehead creasing. You knew exactly what he wanted, but you’d be damned before you ever agreed to it.

“Well,” he ventures, “I was thinking.. you look really hot—not like hot-hot, but—well you are hot.” Now he’s stumbling over his words, eye’s narrowing as he tried to correct himself. Suppressing a laugh, you motion for him to just keep going.

“Okay, I meant you’re sweating, so.. let’s go swim.” He finishes, eyes sparkling with mischief. “There’s no scary dolphins to eat you this close to shore!”

“And you know that how?” You question, “because last time I checked, you weren’t an ocean expert. You kick balls for a living, hon. And also! What was my one condition for coming today?”

Fermín groans, head tipping back against the back of his beach chair. “Baby, please. I’m overheating.”

“So go on your own.” You reply sternly, laying your head back on your shirt that acted as a head rest.

Another whine from Fermín has your eyes opening again. “No stupid shit. Just getting in and if I see a dolphin, or some sea creature, i’m sacrificing you. I will not hesitate.” You cave, slowly sitting up.

A wide, vibrant smile spreads across Fermín’s lips. “Really?! I mean—not excited to be sacrificed, but you’ll come?” If you didn’t love him so much, you’d never be doing this. He looked so happy, so excited, you figured you’d get over your anxieties.

Nodding, you stand, reaching out your arms for him to take. Fermín take’s your hands gratefully, laughing as you struggle to pull him up.

As you walk the few yards toward the water, Fermín wraps an arm around your shoulders, placing a kiss to the top of your hairline. Something he did when he felt bad, so at least you knew he felt slightly guilty for making you get over your biggest fear for his sake.

The second the water reach past your ankles, panic consumed you. “Fer—I’m not sure this is a good idea..” You trail off, eyes wide as you stare out at the large body of water.

“Come’re.” He sighs, pulling you closer before bending down and scooping you up bridle style. You yelp, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, burying your head in his shoulder.

“You’re fineee.” He assures, letting out a breathy laugh as he treads further into the water.

You don’t open your eyes until you feel the water at your shoulders. Prying them open, you refuse to look at the water, instead relishing in how the waters temperature cooled you off instantly.

Fermín is watching you closely, a soft smile on his lips. “How’re you feeling? Can I set you down now?”

Be brave. Not too hard, you’ll be fine! Right? Right?

Nodding with much hesitance, you breathe deeply as your body is lowered, feet eventually touching the wet sand. No icky creatures touching you.. you’re fine!

Fermín takes his new found freedom and before swimming around, never straying further than an arms length away. “Come on, come swim.”

You lick your lips, contemplating the risks of swimming with him. While you’re distracted in your internal debate, Fermín grows impatient. Using his hand, he swipes at the water, effectively drenching you.

Your body stills, eyes squeezing shut. With pursed lips, you open your eyes to find him swimming away quickly, and you were not about to let him get away with that.

Jumping into action, you dive into the water, speeding after him. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that you were swimming further away from shore, you were simply just hell bent on getting revenge.

Fermín glances behind him, seeing you growing closer and closer. His lip tugs into a triumphant smirk as he stops. Treading water, he waits for you to get closer before ducking under the water.

When you come up for air, your heart stops. He was nowhere in sight. “Fermín.” You snap, “this isn’t fucking funny—AGGHH.”

The sound that left your throat made it seem like your leg had just been grazed my a shark’s fin, when in all reality it was your childish boyfriend’s hand grazing your thigh as it came up to rest on your waist.

His laughter fills your ears as he rests his head on your shoulder. Your anger subsides at the sound, head tipping back onto his shoulder with a simple eye roll. “You’re such a dick.” You giggle out, taking a few moments to catch your breath.

“Sorry.” He says through choked laughter. “I couldn’t resist.”

Pulling away, you swivel around in the water, arms coming up to wrap loosely around his neck. “Now i’m really never going to swim with you again.” The threat was weak since you knew Fermín always had a way of convincing you to do things.

The blondes head cocks to the side, “you say that now..”

“Shut up, you dork.” You huff, pressing your lips to his in a salty kiss.

likes, comment’s, reblogs are always appreciated! and lmk if you want tagged in future blurbs + or lmk if there is anyone in specific <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 20: Manhandling with sub!Felix

Trigger warnings: none?

Content warnings: names (honey, peach, good boy), pegging (i fear i have veered away from the main point oops), manhandling (clearly)

Summary: Your sweet boyfriend just wants to be tossed around.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“You can be rough, you know.” He chuckled softly as you popped the button on his jeans and carefully tugged them down his legs. “In fact, I want you to be rough with me. I’m not glass. I can take it.”

It was hard to treat him with seemingly no care. He was the most precious person to you and treating him with anything other than the utmost gentleness and care was damn near impossible. But he wanted that and denying him his wishes proved to be even more difficult. “Hips up.” You ordered and he eagerly complied, allowing you to pull his briefs off.

You were careful to conceal your excitement at the sight of his dick. He was so fucking pretty. He was on the larger end of average and had a gentle upwards curve. The head was already flushed, precum beading there as he tried not to squirm in anticipation. You admired him as you leaned down to kiss the tip of his cock, listening to the tiny gasp he let out at the contact as you ran a hand up his thigh. “I did what you told me.” He offered up hoarsely as he watched you lick your lips.

You didn’t respond, opting instead to hook your hands behind his knees and push them towards his chest as you spread his legs. The plug came into view and you let out a satisfied hum as his hands joined yours. “You did.” He nodded quickly at your confirmation and you continued. “Hold your legs for me, honey.”

He complied, taking over for you as you smoothed your hands down the backs of his thighs. He whimpered and his dick twitched when you gently tugged on the plug. He didn’t dare move, though he was dying for you to give him more. He made a choked noise when you pressed it back into him, head falling back against the pillows. You righted yourself between his legs and watched his jaw go slack as you pulled the toy out slowly, another small sound tumbling from his lips.

“So pretty…” You sighed as you dropped the plug on the towel he’d insisted on putting down and reached for his cock, which already had another bead of precum forming on the tip to replace the one you’d kissed away. “You gonna take the strap like a good boy?” You asked as you thumbed over the head, smearing his precum across his flushed tip.

“Please-” He whispered, finally opening his eyes, which he’d squeezed shut when you first pushed the plug back into him. “Can I?” He pleaded, already desperate for you to fuck him. He let out a sigh of relief when you released him and reached for the lube, watching intently as you squeezed a decent amount into your palm and spread it on the translucent pink silicone dick affixed to your front.

You gave him a look, silently begging him to tell you if anything felt off, and he nodded in immediate understanding. You lined up and he couldn’t help but shimmy down on the fake dick, whimpering at the full feeling despite only taking the tip. You suppressed an amused smirk and continued to ease in, admiring the small sounds he let out as his face screwed up with pleasure and determination.

When the toy was about halfway in, you began to give shallow thrusts. You wanted to tease him a bit. He let go of his legs and reached for your hands, giving a squeeze as he let out a long groan. You considered swatting his hands away but figured you could humor him as you teased him so you laced your fingers together and squeezed back.

“M-more…” He begged after a few minutes of torturously slow thrusts, his voice surprisingly high-pitched and whiny.

“You wanna take it all?” You cooed almost mockingly and he nodded frantically. He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t get a chance to say anything before you were pulling out and flipping him over onto his belly. You shoved his legs apart with your own and pulled him up by his hips, giving a reassuring squeeze even as he made one of the most pathetic sounds you’d ever heard from him.

His moan morphed into a deep, throaty laugh as he settled into the new position. “Why the fuck was that so hot?” He was mocking himself and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself at his reaction. You gave his ass a light slap and he hissed at the sensation, listening as you once again uncapped the lube.

“It’s cute how much you like me being rough with you, angel.” You teased as you allowed a bit of lube to drip directly onto his hole and lined up. You hadn’t been sure if you’d be able to do it but he was eating this up so you were going with it. “Relax.” You reminded him as you pressed the head of the dildo into him. If he was too tense, even from eager anticipation, you could hurt him.

He let out a breath neither of you realized he was holding and bit his lip as you carefully pushed into him. When you bottomed out, you didn’t move for a moment and he got antsy, wiggling his hips. You gave a few experimental thrusts and tried to keep your excitement contained at the yelp he let out as you found your rhythm. You weren’t moving particularly fast but you were delivering deep, powerful thrusts and he couldn’t help the small sounds you knocked out of him with each motion.

You kneaded at his cheeks as you fucked him, reveling in the satisfaction that you were the one making him feel good. You were the one he was begging for more. “Faster- ah fuck-” You slapped his ass and he quickly corrected himself, rocking back against you. “P-please go faster-” He all but wailed. Who were you to deny your darling boyfriend when he begged so nicely?

You gave his ass a harsh slap, smirking at his moan before reaching for his wrists. You pulled his arms back for leverage and his upper body left the mattress as you began to hammer into him. He let out a desperate cry as your hips repeatedly met his ass, the sound of your skin slapping mingling perfectly with his sounds. After a few seconds, you dropped his arms in favor of repositioning his hips, which had fallen towards the bed.

You got him settled the way you wanted and then ran both hands up his back until you had two fistfulls of his hair. He allowed you to pull his head back and lift him from the sheets that way, jaw hanging slack as you continued to fuck him senseless. The new angle meant you were repeatedly slamming into his prostate and his moans quickly turned into sobs of pleasure. He reached back to hold onto the harness around your hips in an attempt to ground himself and you let one hand move from his hair.

Your fingertips trailed down his body until you finally took his cock in your hand. He whimpered at your touch and you nipped at his ear as you began to gently tug on his dick. Your hand matched the rhythm of your hips and a moment later, he was begging to cum. “Cum for me, Lixie.” You whispered, tongue tracing the shell of his ear as he fell apart. “Good boy…” You praised as he let go.

Watching Felix cum was a religious experience. It started small, thighs quivering as his drooling dick began to twitch. But it quickly became overwhelming for him and hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he began to shake violently before melting into the mattress despite the mess he’d made - and your hold on his hair. It was short-lived but still one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen.

You pulled out as he began to relax and flipped him over, wanting to toss him around one last time before letting him relax. He groaned at the display of strength and you chuckled softly. “My good boy is so easy to play with.” You joked as you leaned over him, allowing him to pull you down in a tight hug. He was always so cuddly and affectionate after sex. And it seemed you’d be getting plenty more cuddles and kisses as he stated you were far from done.

“This time I want you to make it hurt…” You shuddered at his request. He was definitely going to be bedridden after you were done with him.

[veronae-buddie]

A Few Lines Friday

(It's getting kinda late on Saturday where I am, but what the hell). Tagged by @queerweewoo!! 🥰

This is from an unshared story that I keep debating whether or not to post. I finished it I think last year? If enough folks enjoy this snippet may you can convince me to post the whole thing on my AO3.

Just Chris writing fanfic about Buddie. 🙃

Mx Pringley smiled again, and waved one hand in a friendly, understanding gesture. “I realise it’s exciting when you’re a new family and I don’t want to stifle Christipher’s enthusiasm, but I do think we need to come up with a way to ensure he correctly completes his assignments. Writing about your relationship just doesn’t fit as creative writing.” “Yeah,” Buck said slowly. “See, the thing is … we’re not a couple and we don’t live together.” The teacher’s face froze, then blanched and crumpled into a series of confused lines. “I don’t understand. He’s not writing about your home life?” “He is not writing about it accurately,” Eddie said, gazing back down at the assignment in his hand. “What he’s writing is definitely completely from his imagination.” Mx Pringley looked mortified. “I’m so sorry,” they said. “It’s just … it seemed so real, and I see both of you regularly, dropping him off, collecting him. I assumed…” “That we’re a couple,” Buck said, and Eddie, uncharacteristically, could not read his tone. He could have meant absolutely anything or nothing at all with the simple response. “Honestly, I thought you were married,” Mx Pringley said. “I’ve thought as much since I first started teaching Chris. I’m very sorry, what a terrible assumption to have made.” “I wouldn’t say it’s terrible,” Buck said. His voice lowered a little. “Just … kinda inaccurate.” “Mm,” Eddie hummed in agreement, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Yep. That.” “That,” Buck echoed.

Tagging:

@shortsighted-owl @disasterbuck @serensational @blue-winged-boy @emotionallyencumbered

@gnoeltop @inell @verdimundi @darkrose6578 @littleblackraincloudofcourse

@deliriousbean @idealuk @oldfangirl81 @ronordmann @shealwaysreads

@queenofthesydrianites @marvelgirl9326 @graendoll

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 1 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

Warning(s): mature themes, descriptive language, proceed with caution.

Before I start, I'd like to say that I initially added a lot more to this, but since tumblr had to censor it, I had to level it down a little...

I guess I just got carried away with it because of yumalia lol

So yeah...hope tumblr doesn't flag this again....

Alright everyone you know the drill.

LET’S ALL GET IT OUT OF OUR SYSTEMS AND GO CRAZY OVER HOW THESE TWO FUCKED SO MANY TIMES‼️‼️‼️‼️

Good job you two honestly I’m so happy these two got to have fun together like this 🥰🥰

Like no joke the first time I started to read the first chapter, of all the ways I thought it would start, I DIDN’T THINK THEY’D BE FUCKING I legit thought I was interrupting them my god-

I was so SHOCKED wtf??????!!!!

Like yes but what????

Ankama wasn’t kidding when they said they’d go mature mode and INSTANTLY cram in adult themes. The unexpected (but still warned) change was so sudden that that’s how you know Ankama has been keeping themselves tamed in the seasons because they couldn’t pull this shit off so easily like Japan.

Now let’s analyze the first thing that’s in the very first chapter.

The s** 👹👹

Okay I know how laughably this sounds because the FIRST THING in the first volume that we get to see is Yugo and Amalia’s private time.

And I’m not ashamed of loving it. Even now I still can’t believe that this can literally be considered soft corn. I won’t be surprised if more than half of the chapter ended up on that infamous site 💀(if u know, u know)

By the way I love how Amalia’s hair grew cuz I was starting to get sick of seeing her with a short ponytail all the time AND I LOVE HOW WE FINALLY SEE HER UNTYING HER HAIR CUZ MAN ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE SEEN HER LET HER HAIR OUT

But their private moment(s) really made us understand just how much they care for one another. The way that they are sleeping together NAKED like this so comfortably too confirms that they have done these kinds of activities before.

The ambiance and the colors truly encapsulate the tranquility and peacefulness they both share in this moment. You can even feel the sunshine’s rays touching your skin.

AND I’M ALL HERE FOR IT. They genuinely look so cute and in love together like that I just wanna tear that blanket away and dhskdkfkksskskkdksksd.

If anyone is wondering why Yugo still keeps the dofus on him, it’s because the dragon, Rodalström, that Armand defeated is still alive. A necrome can never truly die so Yugo has to essentially keep the dofus on him at all times just in case the dragon would set free someday (i feel so bad for Qilby due to this decision…dude is the only one between his siblings who can hear these two banging💀)

While looking through these same pages over and over again (I still haven’t stopped), I began to seriously wonder what kind of positions they would do together.

We’ve seen two particular positions they have used in this chapter and it was the “lotus” position and the “woman on top” position.

These are very accurate positions for these two mainly because of the level of intimacy it provides. It’s not rough, extravagant, or even too lewd. It’s simply just right.

They are so intimate with one another that they even hug while keeping the pace. And I think it is wonderful to see these two just being happy and satisfied in each other’s arms like this.

It's such a sweet moment for these two that you really can't look away (i'm definitely not saying this to justify why I keep overfixating these panels). You can even see Yugo choosing to keep his eyes open during it all just to look at Amalia enjoying it.

My guy clearly loves the view please!! 😫😫😫

You don't think seeing her liking it makes him even more excited righ-

Some parts during their intimate moment had their arms, which were groping A LOT of things, somewhat censored by the blankets they still had on each other. So, to have a clearer view of what happened under the sheets, I decided to outline their covered arms to give you an idea of where those hands went.

At the very beginning, Yugo is woken up by Amalia kissing his cheek. But after that, his body looks much more awake when we see a panel of Amalia's hand under the covers reaching for something. This immediately makes Yugo wide awake, to the point where he's already sweating a bit and blushing very hard as he says, "You're...tireless!"

After some outlining made by yours truly, it was painfully obvious where Amalia was reaching for and- DEBHUHUFUWHYUHFUYHUWUEFHUWHFUEFHUEWH

GURL STOP OMG SHE'S TOO BOLD I CAN'T WITH HER I LOVE HER OMG SHE KNOWS WHERE TO REACH YES DO IT WAKE HIM UP!!!!

The fact that she instantly knew what to do when she wasn't getting enough attention from him after that cheek kiss alone sends me 😭😭

But it's not like Yugo's the innocent one here for not trying anything. On the contrary, HE'S TOUCHING HER TOO.

THAT GUY KNOWS WHAT'S BEST TO GRAB.

He's a man after all, so what'd you expect lol

He KNOWS that her ass is THICK, SO WHY WOULD HE NOT TOUCH ONE OF HER BEST ASSETS!?!?!?

You can tell these two obviously do more than just two “sleeping” positions, but since they were messing around in the morning, I can give them a pass for being sweet and tender with each other at this moment, just this once. They must've done A LOT more yesterday night since Yugo did say she was tireless as soon as he woke up. These two are adventurers at heart, so why wouldn't they explore each other more thoroughly-

Given that we’ve only seen the "lotus," the "woman on top," and a simple embrace, I would like to suggest a few more positions that would suit them well. These recommended positions are so accurate to them and reflect their dynamic that I wouldn’t be surprised if they have done these before (or will eventually 👀).

While nitpicking every single panel of their “morning routine” I learned two things thanks to this start:

1) Yugo’s a bottom but is able to switch.

2) Amalia is insatiable in bed. Girl is hungry HUNGRY. Because judging from how Yugo and her were fully naked and laying in bed in the beginning, that means they had finished screwing with each other a while ago BEFORE AMALIA JUST JUMPS BACK INTO IT. SHE’S LITERALLY TIRING OUT A DEMIGOD ALIEN JUST FROM GROPING AND TAKING HIM-

If a scene like this wasn’t what I thought would happen at the beginning of the first chapter, then Amalia getting choked to death had definitely thrown me off guard. Like many other readers, I already knew that this wasn’t actually real and was only happening in Yugo’s head but it still felt very off-putting to see her struggling to breathe. The way Yugo panicked and tried to help only for him to scream and cry when he realized she was on the verge of dying was powerful.

And that’s when we find the anomaly in this chapter.

The dragon that appeared in Yugo’s head.

I initially expected Toross to be the one tormenting Yugo but I guess it ended up being this dragon.

The dragon figure seems to feel severe hatred for Yugo for all the calamities he let happen in the World of Twelve and how he seems to be living a good life at the moment while having the six primordial eliatrope Dofus and the Eliasphere in his possession.

The theories immediately started flooding in on who this dragon could possibly be and here’s what people came up with:

A) The dragon is one of the six primordial dragons from the World of Twelve named Grougalorasalar.

He’s the guardian of the Eben dofus and used to have been sealed in Joris during the Dofus era. Some have theorized this dragon to be him because of how physically similar they look.

Although he looks identical, there is no logical reasoning to support his hostility towards Yugo, let alone his ability to infiltrate his mind. Furthermore, the way he acts and thinks around Yugo, assuming it is actually him, is illogical given his involvement in Ogrest's rampage.

B) This dragon is, in actuality, Draconiros, the dragon of dreams.

His job is to govern the dreams and nightmares of the twelvians. People suspect he might have taken the form of Grougalorasalar while talking to Yugo.

Despite never meeting Yugo, he could have watched over the twelvians through their dreams. This means that he might have seen Oropo's dreams, as well as Yugo's own, giving him insight into Yugo's future actions and indirectly caused consequences. If true, this theory would explain why he holds a grudge against Yugo. It currently stands as the most compelling theory among all others.

C) The Great Dragon. Yugo’s father could be the one able to invade his mind and blame him for all sorts of things.

It's hard to ignore the fact that the Great Dragon appears to have been absent during some of the biggest catastrophes in the Krosmoz. Despite countless calamities happening all around the world, the Great Dragon seemed to have done nothing to prevent them, nor did he even show up to witness them. This is why his presence felt non-existent in the world. If he doesn't care about the world, why would he have any interest in what Yugo has done?

D) Osamodas himself could be the one speaking to Yugo while taking the form of Grougalorasalar.

It's worth considering that Yugo may face blame from the god of beasts. Additionally, it's intriguing to note that the osamodas race will play a significant role later on. This is evident from Aurora and her family's return to the Sadida kingdom.

So far, these are the only theories out there that we have for this dragon. That, and the fact that it might as well be a whole new character that we haven’t seen before.

The thing that truly makes this interaction between Yugo and the unknown dragon feel severe is the fact that the dragon tells him that despite sharing dragon blood, he truly detests him.

Imagine having to know that a millennial dragon hates you despite sharing the same blood.

Of course, the interaction couldn’t have stayed for very long because Amalia immediately interrupted it by screaming Yugo’s name. Yugo looks completely out of it, huddled up and shaking in fear. I understand that he saw what could be a future threat but this whole situation must’ve looked so off-putting from Amalia’s perspective: they were fucking, they started levitating because of the six eliatrope Dofus residing in him, and then they both suddenly fell on the floor and she saw Yugo curled up and crying, freaking the fuck out.

Amalia doesn’t understand but she still goes to him and immediately tries to calm him down by embracing him. But despite everything he’s seen and the fact that he interacted with a mysterious dangerous beast, the first thing that Yugo says amidst his crying is: “I thought I lost you…”

Look at the sheer terror in his eyes.

He genuinely looks like he thought he lost everything at this very moment. His body is shaking and is still processing what he just saw and heard.

He even APOLOGIZES to her, thinking that seeing her dying in his arms was somehow his fault.

Her life is such a huge priority for him that that’s immediately the first thing he’s afraid he’ll lose the most.

That’s when Amalia suddenly says the words: “Calm down, it was just a dream.”

…

A dream??

You mean to tell me that this whole time, Yugo was sleeping?

So this whole “wrestling” scene never happened?

I believe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding when we first read this chapter.

I feel like we thought Yugo and Amalia had been messing with each other in the morning and that’s when Yugo suddenly received a flash of imagery and words from the unknown dragon before Amalia snapped him out of it and that’s how they ended up on the floor together.

But it turns out that wasn’t technically what happened.

Because if this intimate scene was real, then why would Amalia say he had dreamt?

I believe this is what actually happened:

Yugo and Amalia were peacefully sleeping together after spending the night awake (because what do you think a fully naked couple does in bed). When morning arose, that’s when Yugo started having a wet dream of Amalia and him getting in on again and right when things were starting to get better for Yugo, the dream started to twist itself and change out of its own will, forcing the one good thing about the dream to leave, which was Amalia, by making her choke to death to finally reveal the dragon. The dragon haunts his mind and spills his hateful thoughts to the eliatrope causing him to suffer alone until Amalia snaps him awake and manages to unknowingly free him from the torment. Yugo must’ve fallen on the floor while having the nightmare and Amalia simply got down from the bed to wake him up.

(this still doesn’t change the things I said about the types of positions they have, how Amalia has her own nicknames for Yugo like ‘little princess’, and how Amalia is in bed though because dreams often depict and copy real-life behaviors from the mind of the person dreaming. it’s actually funny that Yugo had a WET DREAM about Amalia and him. despite getting so much action with her, his mind doesn’t leave her alone lol)

When she regards his shaking form that it was only a dream, however, Yugo insists how real it felt. That’s when he decides to stand up and claim he needs some air to think. The fact that he has said the same thing back in Season 4 Episode 1 when he had Oropo in his head, shows how his insistence of wanting to be alone after getting scarred, has become a pattern.

Amalia understandably (and predictably) gets angry at Yugo for leaving but her behavior also raises a few questions. Does this mean she’s angry that he wants to be alone every time he gets nightmares? Does he receive incessant nightmares on some nights? If that’s the case, then how often does this keep occurring? Or is this the first time he does this? Is she angry because he tends to quickly leave when he thinks he needs to deal with something on his own like how he did in Seasons 2 and 4?

Regardless of what the case may be, Amalia doesn’t waste time and immediately dresses herself up with her vines like a boss ass Queen just look at how refined and elegant she looks while changing✨✨ I love her so much 💕💕

Also vinillain noticed how these two dumbasses don’t HAVE ANY BEDROOM DOORS. How do they actually get any privacy if their bedroom has a huge ass hole with no door?? It’s so bare that it doesn’t even have a curtain to cover the front of their room!! Like did these two not realize that literally anyone can just get right in their room? I get that they’re royals so they would know that no one would be this dumb enough to simply get in like that but the entrance of the room is so big and wide that anyone can just pass through it and be able to see their bed from where they’re standing!! You can even see the bed frame right there in just that panel for crying out loud!! I get that the sadidas are a pretty open race BUT THEY’RE NOT THAT OPEN TO EACH OTHER-

Besides this stupid choice of not having any doors, I love how the kingdom made a few adjustments to the throne room because they initially only had one seat. Even when Armand was king, there was still one place. Aurora had to sit in a small space next to him lol. Note that Aurora used to sit on the right side like how Yugo has to do now.

I already talked about this to vinillain but I told them that because of how the throne was arranged when it got split into two, I feel like the ones who sit on the right are the ones who come from other kingdoms aka if they’re from another race. I believe that the reason why the throne had only been one seat in Seasons 1, 2, and the ovas, was because the only ruler at the time was King Oakheart. The ruling seat might have also been divided in two when the queen was still alive. Amalia might as well have simply chosen to sit in Armand’s place because it used to be his which would be cute if that was the case.

I like to think that Yugo deserves sitting in Aurora’s place because he’s submissive-

Speaking of Armand, the mural wall that Amalia made the artist make was such a wonderful decision. She really did love her brother despite the many quarrels they used to have.

This man entered the legend ❤️

After the interaction between Amalia and the painter, I noticed the royal advisor (or so I think) about to approach Amalia with something to discuss. Despite not having entered the throne room yet to listen to her people's grievances, the advisor seems to have something confidential to share with her, as he didn't choose to wait until she got there. Although we don't know what that "something" could be, Amalia immediately stops him, explaining that she just got out of bed and needs time to process everything.

I think we'll see what that 'something' could be about in the next chapter, though. Looking at the crowd awaiting Yugo and Amalia in the throne room to discuss their business with them, I have a strong feeling some of those problems would involve the elite eliatropes.

We can even see how the mood in the throne room looked very tense between the sadidas and the eliatropes. Some of the sadidas looked perturbed, and there's a good chance they're acting this way because of the eliatropes. Not only that, but the eliatrope kids looked super uncomfortable because of the tension going on. Even a sadida was eyeing an eliatrope in a pretty judgemental way (you can see it on the right panel).

They were all waiting for Amalia and Yugo so they could speak about their problems to the two royals so I wouldn't be surprised if some problems would be about the eliatropes staying.

I understand that when we last saw the sadidas, they were pretty much okay fighting alongside the eliatropes during the war against the necromes. But that was because it was a war. They were extremely short-handed, so they were perfectly fine with having them by their side. But now that the war is over, it's possible that many of them feel a bit awkward having to share their lands with eliatropes. Imagine living on these lands since the dawn of time and you suddenly have to live with people who are not even from your planet one day.

In short, Yugo and Amalia should get more intimate moments, the dragon in the dream has a good chance of being Draconiros, Yugo should stop dealing with his problems on his own, Armand is a chad, the two royal seats scream power couple goals, I need that sadida and eliatrope drama, and I’m waiting on what the advisor has to say.

@geekgirles @onyichii

[yagirlwrites]

Drinks & Misunderstandings

Hiii! It's been a while! Here's a little The Sounds of a Good Boy blurb about another encounter where Rafe makes a fool of himself and she thinks he's a dumbass🙈 this is set right after The Night We Met ❤️ Hope you like it!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it’s not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs are welcome! Happy reading!🥰

Drinks & Misunderstandings

It had been exactly a week since their encounter at the party. Rafe had been able to think of very little except her. It was extremely inconvenient and fucking frustrating. He thought about the way she looked at him in the kitchen more times than he could count and it ended up making his pants get tighter every time. He didn’t understand what it was about her that made him so obsessed. He was also incredibly angry and tired of her running through his mind given the fact that she spoke exactly three words to him- when he asked if her friend was okay. Oh but her voice was stuck on repeat. He had felt butterflies in his stomach when she finally spoke to him.

It hadn’t mattered that she only said “I don’t know.” He was so taken aback that he didn’t even manage to respond before she left. She seemed distressed and he wanted to ask more, to offer to help -something! But she was gone before he could process and he spent all night kicking himself for not being quicker. Though he knew she probably wouldn’t have wanted his help anyway, given that she had ignored him all night.

This Saturday, the usual frat party scene was exchanged for a birthday bar hop for one of his frat brothers. Rafe wasn’t really feeling it. Though the alcohol was welcome, the company and the loud music was not. He had been drowning his sorrows all week, barely paying attention to his classes. His mind always on her. He wondered what happened to her friend, if she was okay; wondered if he’d ever see her again. He mostly wondered why the hell he was wondering about all those things in the first place. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation, not understanding how she managed to have such a hold on him when he didn’t even know her name.

The bar they were currently in was one of the classier establishments they visited that night. If the interior hadn’t made it clear the prices of the drinks left no room for doubt. It was crowded and hot but at least the music wasn’t as loud as in the bar they were in last. He was starting to feel a headache coming, so he welcomed the slightly queieter albeit pretentious environment they were in now.

The guys had spent all night circling the group for drink duties, he had befallen the faith of getting the next round. He was already feeling the effect of the alcohol as he made his way to the bar to order more drinks. Slightly leaning onto the counter for support after stumbling a little on his way over, he bumped into the person to his left, throwing a quick sorry as the guy glared at him.

Waiting for the bartender to notice him he lazily ran his eyes over the girl to his right. Her back was facing him as she leaned on the bar, almost mirroring his position. She was hot. Wanting to see her face, he leaned slightly closer, hoping she’d turn around if she senses his presence. Her perfume hit him and he swore he smelled it before but his drunk mind couldn’t place it.

Just as he expected, she could feel him behind her so she turned around to glance at him. As soon as their eyes met he felt like he had been struck by lightning. It was her. The same girl who had been plaguing his thoughts for a week straight, same girl who made him feel small that night, same girl he hoped he would run into again. And there she was, standing right in front of him, wearing a sexy little black dress and looking at him again.

He could see recognition in her eyes and he felt a rush of excitement at the prospect. She remembered him. If his mind had been slightly less hazy he might have considered that wasn’t the best thing, that perhaps if she hadn’t remembered him he would have had a chance to start over, not make a fool of himself again. But all he could feel was excitement because she was there and she remembered him.

When she turned to see who had so blatantly given himself the right to stand so close to her, the last person she expected to see was him. The guy from last week’s party, same guy who had annoyed her that night, same guy who surprised her by showing concern for her friend, same guy she had thought of more times than she would ever admit to herself over the last week.

He was looking dumbstruck and she knew he remembered her. She expected him to look sheepish or even smug but he actually looked... happy? He looked like he was happy to see her. She thought it might have been an act but seeing the way his eyes were glazed and he was supporting himself on the bar, she realised he was genuine, clearly drunk and not capable of hiding his emotions. It was pretty damn adorable. She was sure after their last encounter he wouldn’t be happy to see her but there he was - right in front of her, smiling like a little kid. It took her some effort not to smile at the sight. He looked so innocent, with his bright dimply smile and his floppy hair- but she knew better.

If a by-stander had been watching them they might have noticed they were both standing there, staring at each other for a beat too long. The little moment interrupted by the bartender laying down the drinks she ordered in front of her. She broke eye contact and reached for her wallet. As she was taking it out of her purse an arm reached in front of her, black card making it to the man’s hand before she could process it.

“Drinks are on me” he said. The bartender made quick work of scanning the card and handing it back to him. He looked to her, hoping for a smile. He finally got a second chance to make a better impression on her and he jumped at the opportunity. Being a gentleman, buying her and her friends their drinks.

Her face though, wasn’t happy. She looked pissed, in fact. If this were a cartoon, Rafe imagined steam would be coming out of her ears in that moment. He didn’t understand what happened. Paying for expensive cocktails as a peace offering seemed like a good idea. Now he wasn’t sure what her problem was. Maybe she was just a miserable person.

She took the drinks in her hands, trying to balance them on the little tray. She felt like she could burst. The nerve of this asshole. The entitled douchebag. A total prick. That’s what he was. Any trace of her prior thoughts about seeing him again went out the window. The gall of this guy to just pay for her without bothering to even ask. Like she wasn’t capable of it. Like he had the right. Flashing his daddy’s black card like he owns the place, like owns her. Hell no.

She was quite done with him now.

So without looking back she took off toward their booth. The plan to get away from him as fast as possible before she caused a scene hindered by the fact that she had to walk carefully not to spill the drinks on the tray. Damn it.

As she turned and started walking away without a word his confusion grew and his annoyance resurfaced. What the hell? He wasn’t gonna let her blank him again. No way.

A hand wrapped around her bicep effectively stopped her in her tracks. His grip was firm and he pulled her back slowly, making sure the drinks she was holding didn’t fall on her. Her anger was bubbling up dangerously by now and him putting his hand on her pushed all thoughts of not causing a scene out of her head.

The look she gave him when she turned around was one that could kill a man, or at least chill him to his very bones. But Rafe was angry and he hadn’t realised the huge warning sign so he opened his mouth. Had he been less drunk he would have known that would be a terrible mistake.

“Are you serious? Not even a thank you?” He asked her, not releasing his grip from her arm. The longer his touch lingered on her skin the hotter her anger burned inside. Untill it spilled. And boy it spilled.

“Excuse me?” Her tone was dangerously low, she was barely keeping it together.

“You’re just gonna walk away again? No thank you or anything? What is your problem?” Big mistake. Huge.

“My problem?” She took a step closer, close enough so the tray ended up pressed against both their chests, the metal object the only space between their bodies. “What’s my problem?”

“Yeah. Usually people say thank you when someone buys them a drink, you know. Let alone five.” He pressed on.

“You know what. You’re right. How rude of me.” She spoke sarcastically. “Thank you so much for going over me to settle my tab without asking me, like I wasn’t even there. Thanks for thinking I need you to pay my check and swoon over you for swooping in and saving me 60 bucks. I really appreciate it.” Her voice had risen and at this point the people around them were paying attention.

“I was just being nice-“ he tried to reason.

“Nice? Doing things for me -that I’m fully capable of doing myself by the way-without my consent, is not nice. It’s patronizing. Acting like I should have no say in something, like I have as much agency as that barstool over there is not being nice- it’s being a dick. So is this.” She motioned to his hand still wrapped around her arm. At that he let go. She took a step back. His face a picture of confusion and frustration.

“Normally I would leave the drink but these are for my friends. I’ll let them know you spent a whole $20 for their cocktails, maybe one of them will give you their number.” With that she turned and walked away. This time he let her.

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