#(heavin) i need her

[tojisun]

older coworker laswell dropping you off and buying you snacks and complimenting your work and telling you how amazing you are, until you start looking at her for praise and love and god she gives it to you so much, you don’t even realize that this? this is her reeling you in.

she’s been told, by price during their smoke break, that she needs to be careful. that girls like you have glass for a heart.

and kate just looks at him with her eyes crinkled, cheeks round in her smile, and says, “s’why she’s perfect for me, john.”

(something about laswell sniffing out your mommy issues and. yk. fixing you up.)

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do a fic with Eddie x reader and basically hellfire doesn’t know that Eddie has a gf. So when reader stops by the drama room to give him something that he left at her house they’re all surprised and bombard Eddie with questions. They just can’t believe he got a gf and didn’t tell them and he’s all like yea we’ve been dating for months or years and just brags about being with reader

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Secret girlfriend

Eddie liked to keep his life as private as he could. Not that he was embarrassed, but he liked being a mystery to people. He was close with the Hellfire boys, but still didn't let them know everything in his life.

His girlfriend, Y/N, has been in his life for two years. She was the highlight in his life and he liked to keep him all to himself. Wayne loved her, and that's the only other person Eddie would share her with. They started dating her junior year and now she graduated and went to college.

She stayed in Hawkins for him to graduate, which meant everything to him. He knew it was early but he was already thinking of rings where they'd move to, and how big their house would be. He already wanted her until the day he died.

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts as Dustin groaned at his dice roll.

"Damn another miss"

Eddie laughed at Dustin's displeasure, continuing with the campaign. Then there was a knock on the door, and everyone's heads snapped towards it.

"Who's that?" Mike asked

"Whoever it is shall be punished!" Gareth declared as he punched the air. The boys cheered with him, pounding the table as they yelled "punished" over and over.

Eddie walked towards the door with a hard expression as he swung it open. His tongue was ready to lash out but all his words died on his tongue when she stood in front of him.

"Hey, baby!" She squealed, her arms thrown around her boyfriend. Eddie smiled and hugged her back, sneaking a small kiss. She looked gorgeous in her simple jeans and his band T-shirt, with marks on her neck from the night before.

"There's my girl," Eddie said as his eyes checked her out.

"Who is it?" Dustin called after him, Eddie's body blocking the visitor.

"Boys, this is my sexy girlfriend, Y/N. Behave yourselves." He instructed, stepping aside. The boys stared as the girl walked through, shock written in their eyes.

"Hi, I've heard a lot about you," Y/N said politely as she walked in with a smile. Eddie stood behind her, reaching forward to wrap his arm around her.

"But-but we heard nothing about you. What is going on?" Dustin asked as he stood up. He walked over to the couple and held out his hand. "I'm Dustin, practically Eddie's best friend."

Y/N smiled and shook the small boy's hand.

"That's my bad. I keep her all to myself." Eddie said, snuggling his face into her neck. She laughed as his nose moved back and forth, making it tickle.

"How long have you been together?" Mike asked. He was also shocked that Eddie kept his girlfriend a secret.

"Two years," Eddie shrugged, planting a wet kiss on her cheek as he let her go. He put his hand on Dustin's head and turned him around. He walked back to the table, everyone still staring at her.

"TWO YEARS?" Gareth screamed, "I've known you since middle school, and you don't tell me you have a serious relationship?"

"Like I said, I like her all to myself. Now dear, how can I help you?" Eddie asked with a smirk. He sat at the head of the table and moved his arms behind his head.

She walked over and pulled a notebook out of her bag. "Figured you'd need this."

Eddie gasped as she passed over his notebook. "I've been looking everywhere for this." He was quick to grab the book and open it up. All his campaign ideas were written in his sloppy handwriting.

"Yeah I found it under my bed this morning, and I have no clue how you managed that," she laughed.

"I can think of a few ways," Gareth muttered. His comment was met with a smack on the back of the head from Eddie. The heaviness of Eddie's rings added more pain to his skull.

"I said behave," Eddie warned, but he kept his eyes on his girl.

"Thank you, baby," Eddie said as he stood up. He pulled her into a slow and teasing kiss. She whined when he pulled away, needing more.

"I'll see you tonight," she said against his lips, stealing one more kiss before she turned to leave.

"I love you," Eddie called out after her. She looked over her shoulder as she opened the door.

"I love you too," she smiled.

As the door behind her closed, she could hear all the boys bombing Eddie with questions all at once.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[bibiwrld]

ANARCHY🎸⚡️|Hobie Brown

previous: –eight.

–nine.

HOBIE'S POV

"Ya gonna be silent the whole drive?" I eyed her from the corner of my eye.

She was a bit startled at the sudden sound of my voice as we sat in a long silence. "Oh..um, sorry."

"No need to be sorry, love." I took a right, my hands grip the wheel tightly. " 's just that I wanted to hear you talk is all."

"Oh." She said softly. "What should I talk about?"

"Anythin' you want, doll." A smirk played at my lips.

"I really like cake, cupcakes, really sweet stuff." She began. "My favorite color is pink, I used to competitively play tennis."

I switched lanes, then glanced at her, holdin' onto every single word she said.

"Really? Tennis?" I cocked a brow. "Why'd you stop?"

"I got tired of it, it was a sport my parents wanted me to play." She replied.

"I like that. Think it's real cool you stopped doin' something you didn't want to do." I turned the wheel.

"Really?" She asked me softly.

"Yeah, it's pretty badass." I grinned at her, slowly pulling into an apartment complex.

She smiled back at me, swear there were sparkles in those beautiful eyes of hers.

I parked up, turned off the car and looked at her.

"When am I gonna see you again?" I finally asked. "I really want to see you again."

She bit her bottom lip, shyly looking at me.

God, don't look at me like that woman.

I lowered my eye lids at her. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like wha—mmph!"

I leaned over and smashed my lips onto hers. I was so hungry for her. My hands cupped the sides of her face, pullin' her in and deepenin' our kiss.

Her hands found my vest, tuggin' and pullin' on it, bringin' me closer to her.

I pulled away to catch my breath. "I wanted to kiss you this whole fuckin' time." I took off my seatbelt, inchin' closer to her.

She breathed heavily, her chest heavin' while her eyes narrowed seductively at me. "Me..me too."

"Fuck." My thumbs caressed both sides of her face, as I roughly reconnected our kiss. My eyes closed shut as our lips danced against each other.

"Hobie." She moaned into the kiss, our tongues clashin' together.

My hands moved from her beautiful face, to me caressing the back of her neck. "Yeah?" My words were a bit muffled.

She focused on my bottom lip, gently stretchin' it with her teeth. I could feel my erection growin'. It was probably pokin' out of my underwear.

Oh how badly I wanted her gaggin' on it.

She slowly pulled away, her eyes desperately lookin' into mines. "I..really..want to see you again too."

I softly nodded my head, my eyes starin' deeply into hers. "Yeah? How about tomorrow? What time do you get off from work?"

"3." She answered, licking her lips.

"I pick you up from home at 5 and take you somewhere." I played with the hair on the back of her head. "It's a date, sounds like a plan, yeah?"

She nodded focusin' on my lips.

He smirked. "You wanna kiss me, don't you Sasha?" I put a thumb on her lips.

She nodded once more.

"So honest." I cracked a smile, removin' my thumb and placing a wet kiss on her lips.

Our teeth softly clashed against each other's, but that didn't stop us at all. She moaned into my mouth, her hands squeezin' my arms.

" You're so fuckin' hot." I breathed out, dippin' my face into the crook of her neck, leavin' wet kiss trails.

My teeth softly tugged at her skin, while I sucked on her neck, replacin' the old love bites.

"Hobie." She cried out softly, throwin' her head and exposin' more of her pretty little neck.

My free hand cupped her braless breast through the shirt I gave her. Her nipples were erect and poked through. "So hard."

She squirmed when I pinched and tugged softly at her nipple. I pulled away from her neck and looked her, now teasin' both of her breasts.

Her eyes were squeezed shut.

"Hey."

Her eyes peeled open, a moan escapin' her lips.

"Keep your eyes on me." I told her.

She nodded quickly, meltin' into my touch.

"Good girl." I muttered against her skin. I found her lips once more, gettin' drunk off the taste of her. My hand found a way to her thighs, rubbin' her inner thighs slowly.

She mewed at my touch, makin' my cock twitch.

I stare at her thighs for a moment and traveled back up to her face, givin' her a peck on her jaw. "We should stop here for tonight." I readjusted myself in my seat and tried fixin' my hard on.

"You're right." She agreed, tryin' to collect herself.

"I really want to..it's just that I don't want Miguel to bite my head off if I come back late." I rubbed my temples.

She giggled cutely, makin' me turn my head.

"So cute, you have a curfew." She joked.

" 's not a curfew." I crossed my arms. "I don't follow rules and orders, I decide if I want to or not."

She giggled again.

I like hearin' that.

"Sure, Mr. Brown." She teased. "If you don't follow rules, you'd stay."

I looked away, fightin' back a smile, "I said I decide if I want to stay or not, and tonight's just one of the nights I decide to listen to the rules."

"Whatever you say."

I turned my head to look at her with a smirk on my face. "Goodnight, Sasha."

"Goodnight, Hobie." She smiled at me.

I slowly leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. I leaned back and it took everythin' in me not to kiss those lips.

The way she looks at me should be criminal.

" 'low it." I told her.

"Hm?" She titled her head.

A put a hand out, gesturing for her to stop. "Just stop."

"Stop?" She laughed. "Don't know what you're talking about, but okay." She opened the car door and got out.

I huffed in my seat, scratchin' my scalp. As much as I wanted to go all the way, I had to get back to the tour bus before Miguel becomes a pain in my arse.

I watched as she walked up the stairs and entered into her apartment. Seein' that she safely went into her apartment, I started the car and drove off.

🔆

Today we moved the tour bus to a different venue  because we were gonna perform tomorrow night.

I should probably tell Sasha about that.

We had just finished the sound test, now we were headin' back to the bus.

"Hobes." Pavitr called for me.

I turned my head to him while I chugged down some water.

"You seem a to be in a good mood, did something happen last night when you took Sasha home?" A playful grin slowly appeared on his face, while he bumped into my side.

I moved the bottle from my lips and closed my eyes and shrugged.

Gwen joined. "So you're not telling us?" She opened the tour bus and walked in.

With my eyes still closed, I ignored them. I walked in after Miles and sprawled over one of the smaller chairs.

"Come on man, why're you being so secretive?" Miles groaned from the couch.

"Maybe some things ain't any of your guys' business." I finally said. "Just 'low it."

Pavitr sighed. "You're so mean. Anyways, we should get going to the café you guys."

"Okay, after this game. I'm gonna absolutely demolish Gwen on this level." Miles kept his eyes focused on the screen while pressin' buttons on the controller.

"In your fucking dreams." Gwen challenged.

I checked my phone. It was 4:50.

I leaned up off the couch and stretched. "See you little pests later."

"Where are you headed off to?" Gwen asked curiously, still focused on the game.

"Shit." Miles groaned.

Clearly Gwen beat his ass in that game.

"None of your beeswax, Gwendy." I put my hands in my pockets and leaned into her face tauntingly.

She rolled her eyes, pushin' me out of the way. "You're hiding something."

"Hide?" I chuckled. "Even if I was hidin' somethin', you stooges couldn't even figure it out."

"Did you just basically call us stupid?!" Pavitr asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." I answered with a grin on my face before walkin' out.

💐

Next part: –ten.

Tags: @urmotherswhor3 @gwendolyngonzalez @kay-i-guess

[backtothestart02]

Trust is Everything - 1/1 | snowbaird fanfiction

A/N: An alt ending fix-it fic. Enjoy!

...

Synopsis: Alt. Ending - Lucy Gray responds when Coriolanus calls out to her in the woods.

...

“LUCY GRAY! I said ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!”

“No.”

The voice was soft, matter-of-fact, gentle even. It didn’t matter though. Coriolanus Snow had gone off the deep end, scared of his own shadow and clutching the gun in one of his hands and his mother’s shawl in the other. The shawl Lucy Gray had sworn she’d take good care of. She’d promised. It was stained with mud now.

He stood up, spun around and pointed the gun at her forehead.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She’d thought she couldn’t trust him. She’d set a trap as a test, to see if she was wrong. Now her life was on the line because she’d made him so paranoid he couldn’t see clearly, couldn’t see that it was his Lucy Gray at the end of that rifle, and if he pulled the trigger he’d lose his sanity for more than just a moment. He’d lose it for life.

“The bite in your arm,” she said, as calmly as she could manage. “Are they deep cuts, one or two, or several shallow marks?”

Making the choice to look down instead of keeping the gun fixed on her was a hard one, but in the end he decided they’d be frozen in time if he didn’t check what she was asking for. In fact, he had to lower the gun slightly in order to lift his other arm up to investigate. Lucy Gray breathed a slight sigh of relief, but she tried not to show it. Her whole body was tense with the anxiety of the moment.

“It looks like…” he began with a hard, foreboding tone, as if he was intent on giving her the upperhand and delivering her demise. “Several…shallow marks.” He frowned. “What does that mean?”

Relieved he’d seen the light, Lucy Gray took a risk and pulled the gun out of his hand, clutching it in her own, but not turning it against him, just keeping it out of reach with the butt of it on the ground.

“It means the snake was not poisonous, Dumbass.”

He blinked.

“What?”

She turned around and started heading back through the woods towards the cabin.

“It was a test.”

“A test?”

“To see if I could still trust you or if you’d turn on me at the first sign of trouble. If you’d assume the worst from the girl who chose you over and over again, despite all the messes you made. Despite the lies.”

“What lies?” He frowned deeper.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters.” He got ahead of her, so she was forced to stop, and he looked so crestfallen she was tempted to reconsider her decision. But she stood firm.

“The fact that you don’t know just proves my point.”

“Lucy Gray…” He reached for her, but she took a step back, out of reach, and his hands fell to his sides.

“You killed your ‘old self’, Coriolanus? Give me a break.”

He stiffened.

“Tell me the truth and don’t ever lie to me again, or we’re done. You can go back to 12, head to 2 and eventually the capitol, and I’ll disappear north and find people I can trust to live out my life simply. You’ll never see or hear from me again.”

He gasped softly, the idea of him never seeing her again blew a gut punch to his stomach. Now that he knew she hadn’t been trying to kill him, he didn’t think he could live without her. She deserved the truth, but he was positive he’d still lose her if he told it to her. There was a reason he’d beat around the bush before.

“Well?”

She was getting annoyed, and with good reason, but it had to be the hardest decision of his life. He needed to be sure.

“Promise me you won’t run,” he said.

“It’s that bad?”

He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“I won’t run,” she promised. “If it’s as bad as you think, I might need some space, some time. But I won’t run.”

“You won’t make me leave?”

She was hesitant but decided if he was really dedicated to his promise to have three kills and no more, she could keep him in her life, even if they were a bit distant for a while.

She nodded.

“I won’t make you leave.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, he said, “Sejanus.”

She frowned. “But he was hung.” A light appeared in her eyes, and he knew she’d figured it out. “Don’t tell me you-”

“Recorded him telling me what he was going to do, about going north with some locals, and sent it to the Capitol? Yeah.”

“Coriolanus.”

She was shocked and horrified, but the guilt in his eyes was overwhelming. She knew he regretted it.

“I thought he was being stupid, breaking the rules like that. And I didn’t think they’d hang him for it. His dad is rich. I thought, even in 12, he’d buy the mayor off once he got wind of the accusation.”

“That’s not how things work here,” Lucy Gray said softly.

“Yeah. I know that now. Honestly, I forgot I even went through with the message after what happened with Mayfair and Billy Taupe. I was determined to protect him. Like I always have. But when he was brought to be hung…there was nothing I could do to stop it. If I’d said anything, I’d have been next in line and maybe you too. I cried like a baby afterwards though. I’ve never felt so guilty about anything in my whole life. It seems like I just keep making one bad decision after another. Christ, I tried to kill you a little bit ago. If I’d gone through with it…I’d never be able to live with myself. I’d follow you into death just to apologize to you there.”

Lucy Gray set the gun on the ground and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“There’s no need for that.”

He fixed his eyes on hers.

“No?”

She shook her head.

“I’m still here. You didn’t kill me.” She massaged the back of his scalp lightly with her fingertips, relaxing him. “And maybe my test was a little…extreme.” She licked her lips. “I’m glad you told me the truth.”

“An awful truth.”

“Look at me, Coriolanus, because I’m only going to say this once. You didn’t kill Sejanus.”

“I betrayed him. I sentenced him to death. That’s just as bad.”

“But you weren’t trying to get him killed. You were looking out for him, hoping to teach him a lesson. Being a good friend in the best way you knew how.”

He studied her for a long while.

“I can’t believe you’re not mad.”

“It’s shocking, I’ll give you that. But it’s not as bad as I imagined, and I wish you’d told me the truth when I asked.”

He nodded.

“Without trust, we’re nothing, Coriolanus. I was tempted to stay silent back there, and then what? Our own little version of the Hunger Games would’ve begun.”

He shuddered, hating to think of it that way, but she was probably right.

“I don’t want to lose you, Lucy Gray.”

“Then trust me. Always.”

She dropped her arms and picked up the gun, offering him her hand. He looked down at it inquisitively, then squeezed it gently, the heaviest weight lifting off his shoulders.

“I don’t deserve you, Lucy Gray.”

She smiled tenderly.

“Let’s go bury this thing in the lake, then catch ourselves some fish. My tummy’s been rumbling, and I’m sure yours has too. We can rest for a bit after and then keep going. We’re not far north enough to go unnoticed.”

He nodded.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“And also…” She pulled the dirtied shawl he’d tucked away in his pocket. “I’m sorry for this. Genuinely. I understand if you don’t want me to have it anymore.”

He stiffened and considered.

“This shawl…it’s all I have left of my mother. It represents her in a way, and I gave it to you because you were the most precious thing to me, as precious as the memory of my mother. And you let it get dirty, you abandoned it. You abandoned me.”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

“All that said…” He took a deep breath. “You’re still the most precious. If you can give me another chance, I can give you one. Take care of it better this time?”

She smiled weakly and nodded. He took it from her and draped it around her shoulders, then pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her head.

Then they headed to the lake, climbed into the boat and tied some heavy rocks to the gun, so when they dropped it in the middle of the lake, it would sink. Then they caught themselves some fish, laughing a bit when they flopped into the boat, and headed back to the dock.

Coriolanus carried the fish, and when Lucy Gray’s hand was on the door of the cabin, he called out to her.

She turned around, more relaxed than she’d been when she turned to his questioning eyes before she’d left the cabin before.

He set down the fish, pinned her to the door, and gave her a slow, mind-bending, delicious kiss that had her melting into the palm of his hand and kissing him back with equal fervor.

He tugged on one of her curls after pulling away and smiled softly.

“I love you, Lucy Gray.”

She smiled back, and with all the love in her heart answered back.

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“Come on, Coriolanus Snow. Let’s fix us some fish.”

He grinned and squeezed her behind after she turned back around and jumped over the threshold into the cabin. It was safe to say they didn’t leave for a few more hours than anticipated, but the time was well spent.

[uhzuku]

shenhe and making her hump a pillow while you watch >:)

REESE. SHE IS. SCREAM

soft grunts and whines fill the room as you sit back in the comfy chair you’d built months ago. the cabin you were in, composed of wood and stone, was one you’d built by hand with the help from your lover.

the ice in your glass clinks agaisnt the sides of it, slightly stirring amongst the hard ale that you’d bought off captain beidou; it was a soecialty of hers, brewed in aged barrels made from wood from the alcor that was replaced when needed. the wood gave the alcohol a dusky undertone that you ( and other drinkers who could handle the heavines of ship-brewed ale ) enjoyed more than the liquor that came from normal registered breweries.

you lift your glass to your lips, taking a sip and lazily throwing one leg oflver the other as you keep your eyes locked on the show before you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-!” comes your lover’s soft voice, low and shaky as she fists the pillowcase of the fluffy pillow between her thighs. the cotton case, a simple off-white, sported a larke dark patch where she’d wet it with slick as she rutted against it. the two of you had been together for many years now, and you knew one another better than anyone else. it was why, when she’d come up behind you this morning and pressed herself against you while nuzzling her ice cold nose against the back of your neck that you’d known what she wanted — but you were a busy citizen of liyue, and you didn’t have time to spend the day in lust.

that being said, your lover had refused to leave you alone until the point of you finally snapping and telling her she’d be able to rut like a bunny in heat this evening. despite knowing that this meant a punishment, shenhe had been excited — at least until you sat back in your armchair and ordered her to ride her pillow until you told her to stop.

“what?” you’d asked when she asked you why, “you kept saying you you wanted to cum, dearest — so grind against that pillow and keep making yourself cum until i tell you to stop.”

“y/n — y-y/n-?” shenhe moans, her hair loose from her usual braid and a mess over her back and shoulders as she messily rode the pillow beneath her. “o-oh gods — please, master, make me cum?”

“aren’t i already?” you ask cooly, taking another sip of your ale. “i’m the one that ordered you to do this, after all — every orgasm you’ve had was one of mine to give you.”

“n-no!” she whimpers, “w-want your mou-outh, or f-fingers — i’want you!”

“you’d have had me if you’d been patient,” you say carelessly, looking away from her trembling body to gaze into the glass on your hand. “now all you get is that pillow — now do as you were told and ride the damn thing until i tell you to stop.”

[starlitscars]

Dream (smut)

Words: 2363

Lupin's pov

The clock was ticking steadily against the wall as I lay awake, deep in my own thoughts. Sleep seemed foreign to my eyes these past few days, as if I'd never heard such a thing before and it never existed in dictionaries.

Sleep? No definition found.

Struggle? Countless pages of adequate explanation.

I was used to that difference.

Tonight things were a bit more overwhelming than last night and I could do nothing about it. It was always like this, the closer I got to the next full moon, the worse my inner wolf would become.

'It'll pass soon. Calm down, you difficult thing.' I assured myself and ruffled my hair absent-mindedly (just like how she used to do). It was just another sleepless night when my mind was going through the phases of changing. Nothing to be worried about.

At least that's what I was hoping for.

A cool breeze passed through the curtains and drifted around the room, reminding me to let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I just didn't want to make the slightest of sounds and disturb my sleeping beauty. She was tired from the long hard week.

I sighed and gazed up at the enchanted ceiling above me. Above us. It was exactly like the magnificent ceiling of the Great Hall back to Hogwarts. With the help of sparkling stars, comets and countless flickering candles that were hanging around and lighting up the room with their dim orange flames, everything seemed much more beautiful than the sky outside. A small smile appeared to my face when I remembered how she had convinced me to do this. It was a few years after she'd graduated and she was missing Hogwarts terribly. She'd suggested that we should do this and who was I to decline her wonderful offer? Everything that reminded me of her, would have its stunning effect to make me feel better.

Especially everything from that particular day when I saw her for the first time in the said place at Hogwarts...

I let my eyes close for a short while as I imagined her gleaming eyes, careless laughs and beautiful smiles. She would flash me one of those disarming smiles of hers and every single time my whole world would come crashing down in the best way possible.

Oh, how she could melt my heart with her blushed cheeks whenever she caught me staring at her.

She wasn't just a woman, she was an angel.

And luckily, she was mine.

I calmed down as the thoughts crossed my mind, still not daring to move one bit and look at her. I was being overly sensitive about my actions, but it was better this way. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from touching and feeling her warm body if ever let my eyes drift to her delicate figure, especially now that she was in peace.

But I needed to admit something to myself. For the millionth time.

I would've gone crazy if she wasn't there sleeping peacefully next to me right now. Life was hopeless and empty whenever she wasn't around. I would never forget the days she stood by my side and gave me strength in all the though and sad times when we were together. I fell for her right under that bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall and I fell even harder everyday after.

She was more bewitching than anything I'd ever seen.

Speaking of her... As if my thoughts had floated in the air, I suddenly felt slight shifting in bed along with a sound that seemed more like a low moan than a soft snore. I tore my gaze away from the ceiling, more alarmed than usual with my heightened senses.

Had I woken my lady up without even noticing?

I slowly tilted my head to look at her direction. Her back was on me, her stomach facing the bed, so I couldn't be sure, but she seemed to be still asleep. The glimmering light of those lit candles had illuminated her bare arms in a soft shade of orange, creating a godlike view.

Not trusting my judgment, I stayed like that, keeping an eye on her in case anything different happened.

A few minutes passed until I heard the same low sounds again. I focused more on her and noticed that her chest was heaving up and down slightly faster than I remembered moments ago. At first I thought it was only due to the lack of sleep and I was probably imagining things, but then I strained my ears. Her heart was beating faster than normal.

A thought crossed my mind, but I had to make sure.

I carefully propped myself up to one elbow and got closer to her. With a closer look, I recognized that now she was clutching the sheets firmly, whining some muffled words into the pillow.

I only figured the words Please and Let me leaving her mouth, the rest were unrecognizable.

She was dreaming.

I was doubting whether to wake her up or wait for her to wake up by herself when she began to squirm a bit and her hips rolled on the bed. It was a hardly noticeable movement, but I got worried. I knew that kind of dream.

I called her name a few times in a low tone, trying not to scare her. It was barely audible to my own ears, so I raised my voice a little to whisper.

"Y/N, baby... wake up love. Y/N... sweetheart." I rubbed her arm soothingly and finally her eyes flew open with a low yelp. She blinked a few times, getting adjusted to her surroundings. She was in a daze, letting her eyes roam around the dimly lit room while she caught her breath.

I patiently waited for her to come back to reality.

"Shh, I'm here." I reassured, planting a kiss on her shoulder. She was flustered and a hint of frustration was prominent in her face when she rolled in bed to face me.

Her eyes were still sleepy as she met my gaze. A thin sheen of sweat had covered her forehead. She was a hot mess, I noted.

Oh, shut up.

Deciding that she needed some water, I was about to get out of the bed to bring a glass when she grabbed my hand and stopped me.

"No, please."

Her shaky voice warned me that she was in the brink of crying. I obliged and went back to my previous position, holding her close.

Two or three minutes passed in silence until I decided to speak up and ease the tension.

"You were having a dream, right?" I asked with a soft smile, knowing the answer very well myself. She mumbled a quick yes, still squirming under me. Her breathing was near to normal by now, but her body... No. I kept on rubbing her arm.

"What's got my girl so tensed up then?"

"Nothing. Sor- sorry if I disturbed you." She waved it off nervously and tried to face away from me by burying her head in the pillow, but I stopped her, attempting to maintain the eye contact. She avoided my gaze. It didn't go unnoticed by me when she pushed her legs together to make some friction.

"Oh sweetheart, look at me." I pled in a gentle voice and it worked.

"Was that a wet dream?"

Her innocent face went red with that question. She nodded slowly, her fingers fumbling with the edge of the sheet that was covering her.

"Don't get shy with me, Y/N," I brushed strands of loose hair behind her ear and gently caressed her flushed cheek to make her look at me as I continued. "Did it turn you on?"

She nodded again, biting her bottom lip. That sight was enough to drive me crazy. My hand slowly traveled down, tracing over her neck and on her chest. She let out a gasp and looked down for a mere moment when I let my hand slide under her shirt to caress and massage the warm skin of her belly.

"Well what happened there? I'd like to know the details." I kindly told her to explain.

I could easily read her mind, but I didn't want her to keep it in. Swallowing the feelings was never a healthy idea. I wanted her to let it all out.

"I, oh- We were in the kitchen. On the counter, but you... But you-"

"Me what?" I nodded, encouraging her to continue. My hand went further down to her thighs, causing her to shiver and stammer.

"You were telling me that... That I'm a bad girl. You weren't letting me cu- cum. But I'm a good girl. Please tell me that I'm your good girl."

"Oh, bad bad Remus." I shook my head and chuckled when she pouted her lips, "Of course you're my good girl. Guess I'll have to show you how good you are for daddy."

My fingers had barely reached her panties when she instinctively closed her legs together, still tensed and nervous from the harsh dream.

"Please don't tease or I'll cry." She whimpered and her hand found its way to my hair, her breathing quickening again.

"I won't. Just relax, baby."

She was hesitant at first, but then softened at my words and slowly parted her legs.

"Yeah. Just like that."

I praised and let my hand slip under her panties to her dripping core, eliciting a rather loud and needy moan from her. I was in awe of how wet and riled up she was already.

All with just dreaming of me.

I started off with slow circles and then leaned forward to press my lips to hers, swallowing her lustful moans in deep kisses. Her mouth fell open and her back arched desperately as the sweet sensation took over her body. She let me deepen the kiss and a strangled whine left her throat when I nibbled on her bottom lip.

I was delighted that the ticking of clock wasn't the only sound to break the silence of the room. How I had managed to control myself and be patient was a big question.

The smell of her arousal was calling me to go down and taste her, but somehow I felt the need to keep eye contact. It was necessary. I wanted to see the faces she was making under my touch and, I wanted to see that last relieved look on her pretty face.

I didn't fancy the frustrated look she was still holding.

I patiently kept on rubbing her clit with the pace she always liked. Her eyes softened with each passing minute and she began to enjoy it fully. She didn't worry about this being another unfinished dream.

By now, I'd completely forgotten about how overwhelming tonight was supposed to be with my condition. Making her feel better was a top priority.

"Feels good?"

"Mhmm. Don't stop daddy."

Oh. That word didn't need to sound so hot when it escaped her mouth. I moved the kiss to her jawline and down to her throat. I wasn't planning to stop.

Her legs started shaking and her moans got louder when I shoved two fingers inside her and slowly bumped in and out. Her warm exhales were fanning over my face and I wanted so badly to kiss her again and take in all those erotic moans and at the same time I just wanted be there to hear and watch that heavenly scene.

It was hard to choose.

I opted for the second one, and moved my fingers faster, sensing that she was close to her orgasm. "Cum for me, baby." I whispered in her ear and she obliged, throwing her head back as she clenched around my fingers and reached her peak. The sight of her coming undone and squirming with a single touch was doing things to me.

Girl, have some mercy on me.

She arched her back off the bed and her legs violently pressed together, stopping my hand from adding any more friction as waves of pleasure spread through her body. That was it. I pressed my lips on hers again, devouring that last finishing moan that had her shutting her eyes and seeing stars like she was floating in the sky.

The sight was angelic. Her legs slowly slackened and fell apart, indicating that she was coming down from her blissful high.

I carefully withdrew my hand and pulled back from the kiss to examine her. She was panting breathlessly, her heart beating faster than ever. The same orange shade of lit candles was shining down on her, illuminating her pretty face.

"You tasty little one." I looked into her tired and half closed eyes and licked up her juice from my fingers.

She bit her bottom lip and smiled weakly, ruffling my hair just how I liked it. She took my hand into her small delicate one to run her tongue all over the remaining cum.

I had to pull myself together and back my hand away before reaching out to do anything more to her and keep her up until the sun rised. She had enough for tonight.

After all, Moony hadn't behaved himself in her dream, so some punishment would do good. 

"Better now?" I asked with a smile, kissing her forehead and pulling her into a hug. She snuggled closer to me and rested her head on my chest, her perfectly messy hair falling over her shoulders.

"Yeah...yeah Remmy." She hummed contentedly, her eyelids heavy with sleep.

She flashed me one more of those disarming smiles, and minutes later she fell asleep on my chest, like the real angel she was.

My angel.

More even... She wasn't just a woman or angel. She was more like a god. I corrected my previous thoughts.

The clock was still ticking steadily against the wall as I lay awake for the rest of the night, deep in my own thoughts. I stroked her hair soothingly. Tonight was more tolerable and beautiful than I thought...

A/n: kindly help us reach 1k in wattpad (drewstars) if you're a simp for Remus Lupin:)

[paterson-blue]

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundbirate @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina

[my-emotional-self]

The Mission Chapter 9

Pairings: Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings:  swearing, angst, fluff, mild smut (oral, male receiving)

Summary: Ari Levinson tries to recruit you for Operation Brothers.  While you weren’t ready for any kind of mission, you obliged after much consideration. You didn’t plan on falling in love along the way.  But will Ari return those feelings? Or will his heart only be on the mission?

The next morning you woke up early to find your bed empty, again.  Ari had come back to bed with you that night, holding you close and you slept peacefully.  

Throwing on your bikini, you placed a white tank top over it, along with a sarong as you headed out to the main lobby.  

You made a list of some things the resort would need before Ari caught your eye walking around the resort. He had a mug of coffee in his hand and wasn’t wearing a shirt; just some shorts.  Biting your lip, you took in his glorious body, feeling suddenly awake at the sight of him.  

Watching him from the corner of your eye, he walked to the front of the resort to see Max teaching a Tai Chi class for the tourists before heading into the back towards the sea. Taking the clipboard with your list, you picked up your glass of water and went to sit on one of the lounge chairs on the patio outside.  The sun was warm on your face as you got back to your list.  

“Morning,” Ari spoke, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips.  

Your eyes were narrowed because of the sun, forgetting your sunglasses in your room.  “Morning Ari.”

His eyes roamed over your body, your leg showing from the slit in the sarong and your heart skipped a beat from his heated gaze.  “We’re taking the tourists out to go diving.  Did you want to come?”

You saw the group of tourists standing around the docks, wearing their wetsuits.  This is what you wanted to do since coming here, but Ari, along with Rachel, Max, Sammy and Jake were all going out there.  Deciding best to have a crew member stay back, you shook your head.  

“Not this time.  I’ll stay back and keep an eye on the resort.”

Ari smiled, giving you a nod.  “Maybe I’ll take you out diving sometime.  Just us two.”

“I’d really like that.”

You waved them off as they started boated into the sea.  You had heard about the beautiful coral reefs and wide variety of fish in the Red Sea and you couldn’t wait for Ari to take you out himself.  

~~~

Ari was having a great day. The operation last night was a complete success, he got a good night’s sleep as he held you, and now he was diving; something he loved to do but hadn’t done it in a long while.  

He felt the string tugging on him, Sammy trying to get his attention so he swam to the surface.  

Pulling off his mask, he looked up at his friend sitting in the dinghy.  “What’s up?”

“Turn around,” Sammy remarked, looking at the resort.  

Ari turned around in the water, his heart sinking at what he saw.  They looked like government officials, decked out in dark clothing, all of them carrying guns.  But what angered him the most, was seeing you up against the wall of the resort, a terrified look on your face as someone loomed over you.  

~~~

Sitting in the sun, you became hot so you removed your tank top, leaving your torso bare; your breasts pushed together from your bikini top.  

That morning, you worked on your list, along with watching everyone diving.  They looked to be having a blast, which was great as you hoped it would bring in more tourists, making your cover story even more convincing.

Before long, there was a rumbling of vehicles from the road.  Setting your list down, you peaked around the corner of the resort to see three large trucks stopping.  While your heart began to hammer in your chest, you put on a smile as you waited for them at the side of the resort; hoping Ari would see what was going on and come back to the shore.    

A man in camouflage hopped out of one of the trucks, an air of authority to him.  He saw you and marched right over.  He towered over you, a menacing scowl on his face and you backed up into the building.  

“Can I help you gentlemen?” you asked with a German accent, just like Rachel’s.  Ethan had told you about Rachel’s alias and you thought it would be a good idea to make it seem like you and Rachel were friends, business partners.  

He was standing in front of you, so close, and took of his glasses.  His eyes seemed threatening, a smile pulling at his lips as he stared at your chest.  You were terrified on this inside, and while you tried to keep your cool on the outside, you knew you faltered a bit.  

“I’m Commander Abdel Ahmed,” he spoke with a rough voice.  “Are you the owner of this resort?”  He placed one hand against the wall, caging you in as his men walked around with their rifles and guns.  

“I am not.  I am one of the managers however.  My name is Lina,” you spoke as confidently as you could, even though you felt your legs begin to shake.

He laughed, turning to face his men.  “Look at this woman.  She is nearly shaking in her skin.  Do you know how amazing it is to be with foreign women?  They are so delicate and it is quite fun to be rough with them in the bedroom.  What I wouldn’t give to take her back to my room right now,” he spoke in Arabic to his men and you had to hold back the disgusting shudder your body wanted to give off.  This man could easily just grip you in his arms and take you to where he wanted you to; you had no combat training in your life and you would be easily overcome by him.

Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear the blood pumping in your ears; all other sounds completely ceasing to exist in this moment.  He smirked again at you, his eyes descending and stopping at the scar on your side.  Just as his free hand came up to touch it, Ari’s voice broke through your head.  

“Hi.  Can I help you?”  The Commander pulled away from you, putting his sunglasses on and turned to Ari.  You let out a silent sigh, relaxing just a bit as he walked away from you.    

The Commander began to talk about how there was an accident the night before; trucks plowing through a road block and he wanted to check the backs of the trucks here, for bullet holes.

Ari eyed you as he walked by, a hint of anger on his face, his jaw clenched and you were uncertain if it was directed at you, or at the Commander.  

You stayed close to the wall, feeling Rachel come up behind you for moral support as the two of you watched Ari and the Commander look over the trucks.  

“I hope you come and visit us again real soon,” Ari said, hands on his hips as the Commander and his men made their way back to their trucks.  

As they drove away, you finally let out a deep breath, but the events of the last fifteen minutes made you nauseas.  Backing away from the group, you turned and ran towards your room; a hand over your mouth.

Barely making it to the toilet, you purged what little food you ate for breakfast; your hands shaking on the toilet seat.  Sinking onto the floor, you ripped the toilet paper off the roll and wiped your mouth of your vomit.  

“Y/N?” you heard Ari’s frantic voice calling through the room.  In your haste to get to the toilet, you didn’t even shut the door and that’s where he found you.  He took in your frame, slumped on the floor and he bent down to you.  “Hey, you ok?”  You could see his jaw still clenching, your arm waving to dismiss him.  

“I’m fine.  I just need a minute,” you responded.  He shut the door behind him and you flushed the toilet before grabbing your toothbrush and brushing the smell from your mouth.  

Hearing Ari shut the front door of the hut, you went to your bed and sat down.  Bending over, you placed your head in your hands, feeling utterly useless with what happened today.  You were unsure as to why Ethan thought you would be a good fit for this mission; it seemed like you didn’t have the useful skills as the others did.

You just needed to get out of your head for a few minutes; sulking and coming down hard on yourself wasn’t going to get you anywhere; you needed to remain poised and collected for the mission.  

The door opened and you saw Ari walk into your room with a glass of water.  With a smile, you took it from him, sipping the cool liquid.  

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, placing the glass down on the night stand.  

His head whipped to face you, hands falling to his side.  “What?  Why the hell would you think I would be mad at you?”

“You just seemed mad when you walked passed me out there earlier.”

“Y/N,” he said your name softly, coming to cup your face with his large hands.  “I was not mad at you.  I saw you from the boat and the way the Commander was standing so close to you. You did amazing out there.”

“I was terrified Ari,” you said, nearly snapping at him, feeling guilty.  

“I couldn’t see it, and neither could they.  You held yourself confidently and did everything right.  Hell, if you hadn’t stayed back at the resort, they could have gone through some of our rooms and found things that could have easily blown our cover.  I’m proud of you.”  You nodded, not bothering to tell him what the Commander said to his troops, making you feel frightened.  

His praise was exactly what you needed to hear.  Gripping him by the back of his head, you crashed your lips to his.  Ari’s hands wrapped around your back, pulling you closer; but you had other plans.  

Turning so his back was to the bed, you pushed him to sit down; your hands making quick work of the zipper on the front of his wetsuit.  He saw the glint in your eyes and helped you move it down his body.  

Your hands at his chest, you gently pushed him onto his back.  His chest hair looked so inviting as your hands racked down his naked front. A guttural growl escaped his lips as your hands traveled south; the bulge in his pants evident of his arousal.

With slow teasing hands, you peeled down his swim trunks, his thick cock springing free and laying against his stomach.  Your mouth began to water at the sight of him and you needed him inside of you.  

Wrapping your fingers around his shaft, your tongue darted out, teasing his slit.  Ari’s hips jutted at the feeling; his chest heaving.  You loved seeing him fall apart so easily at your hands.  

You began to pump his softly as your tongue danced around his tip.  After teasing him long enough, you sunk your mouth onto him, taking as much as you could and hollowed out your cheeks, slowly moving your head back up. Keeping your eyes on Ari, you saw him fisting the sheets as your mouth assaulted his cock.  

Placing your left hand at his base, you right hand traveled south, cupping his balls.  “Fuck that feels so good Y/N,” Ari rasped out, his hand coming up to card through your hair.  He leaned up on his elbow, one hand in your hair as he watched you work on him.  His eyes were dark, watching his cock disappear into your mouth as you swallowed around him.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head and fuck, he looked so good right now.  

Your hand pumped his base where your mouth couldn’t fit, your head bobbing up and down quickly, wanting to see him let go.  “Yes, right there baby,” he cooed, his hand gripping your hair tighter.  His hips began to jut upwards and you knew he was close as you worked your hand faster.  “Shit, I’m going to come.”  Winking at him gave him the only encouragement he needed to let go.  His hot seed coated your mouth and throat as Ari collapsed back onto the bed.  You swallowed everything he gave you as your tongue began to lap around his dick, cleaning off the mess.    

Ari looked utterly spent, splayed out on the bed and you could only smile, knowing it was all because of you pleasuring him.  

Forever Tag List: @badassbaker @guera31 @tanelle83 @xjjlex @chrisevansfanfic @princess-evans-addict @joannie95 @pumbibaby @patzammit @brastrangled @mrs-captain-evans @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @poerebel @livslookingforloki @raveviolet @southerngracela @the-wayward-robot @scuzmunkie @cinna-minseok @laura-gzz @beautifulrare4leafclover @emogeographics @chocolate-cutting @capslut2014 @songforhema @allsortsofinterests @firstangeldragonranch @bval-1 @softbibby @troublermalik @space-helen @zsuzstyina

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[knives-out20]

Medicine - John Constantine x Male!OC

Fandom: Legends Of Tomorrow (2016-Present)

Word Count: 1368

Pairing: Vinoja (OC) x John Constantine

Warnings: N/A

Note: I’m Really Sad RN And Just Needed A Distraction.

Vinoja sat on the floor of the Waverider, right leg crossed over the other as he strummed on the black guitar in his hands; he had quite the collection, but the black one is John’s favourite. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, humming lowly and shaking his right foot from side to side to the beat of the song he was creating.

“Hey, Vin” he heard Ray call, footsteps approaching.”What’cha doing?” Ray asked.

Vinoja opened one eye, peering up at Ray.”Well, Raymond, I was workin’ on a song”.

Ray chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes.”Sorry for interrupting you with my curiosity, your highness” he sassed.”Just a song, or is it safe to assume it’s about something?”.

Vinoja opened both of his eyes now, the light making them shine like green crystals. He smiled softly.”More like a someone, Ray-Ray” the Archangel answered.

Ray stepped closer, further interested.”Ooh, about who?”.

“Oh, I don’t know, Raymond. I am merely a gay Archangel, with a boyfriend whom I love and cherish more than you love science-y stuff. Who do you think?”.

Ray scoffed, hands on his hips.”Wow, okay, Vin. What do you have so far?”.

Vin pat the empty space right by him, Raymond obediently sitting down. He leaned in like he was gonna tell Ray a secret.”Right now? Just the title and a few verses- it’s called ‘Medicine’, I feel like it’s gonna be a hit”.

Ray sat crossed-legged, hands on his calves.”Am I allowed to hear any?”.

“Hear any what?”.

Ray and Vinoja turned to see Sara walking over.

“Ah, nothing, Sara. Just working on a new song about Johnny and Ray here got a lil’ too curious” Vinoja teased, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh? I just walked in on a song-making process from HEAVIN, a singer who’s been popular since the forties or fifties? I want in” Sara sat beside Ray, tilting her head back.”If I’m so blessed to”.

Vinoja chuckled.”I could use some judges; but beware, this song isn’t all that family-friendly” he shrugged, clearing his throat. The Archangel glanced from Sara to Ray, who nodded for him to go on. He took a deep breath, and started singing.

”Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman” he started, strumming his guitar again.”Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I’m gonna stick with you” Vinoja glanced up and around, seeing Mick enter the room, having heard someone singing.

“What’s going on?” He gruffly asked.

“Ssh, Vin’s singing about John” Ray shushed, holding an arm out in Mick’s direction.

“Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips” Vinoja grinned at Ray, glancing up at Mick.”Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out~” he continued, Mick crossing his arms and leaning against the wall as he payed attention.”I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I’m wasted~” Vinoja purred, eyes falling closed.”And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you tasted~”.

Sara’s eyebrows jumped, as she exchanged glances with an equally-surprised Ray; for an Archangel, he’s not as pure and holy as one would think.

“If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re /persuasive/” Vinoja started on the chorus, tapping his foot before slowly floating up, off the floor.”You got the salt and I got me an appetite, now I can taste it” he strummed the guitar as a faster pace.

Sara and Ray stood up to back a few feet away- they don’t want Vin to accidentally kick them.

“You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh, la-la-la-la-la” Vinoja spun on the spot as he floated, grinning slowly when he heard Ray tap his foot to the beat.”You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh” he stopped spinning after singing that, hair slightly messed up but he’ll worry about that later.

Sara caught herself nodding her head along, but didn’t stop herself.

“Tingle running through my blood, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones” he softly started the next verse.

John heard a familiar singing voice from across the Waverider, so he walked into the captain’s office to investigate. He stopped by Mick when he saw his celestial boyfriend singing, performing a little song John hadn’t heard him sing before. Must be a new on.”What’s he doing?” John asked, glancing at Mick.

“Singing a song about you”.

“Sounds provocative” John chuckled.

“Tell me about it, trench coat”.

Vinoja’s voice grew louder when he sang the next part.”The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him, and I’m okay with it”.

“Oh shi-” Sara cut herself when she turned around and saw John, hurriedly tapping Ray’s arm.

“What-? What?” Ray asked, turning around. His eyebrows raised when he saw John, holding back a laugh as he turned back around to look up at Vinoja; this should be fun.

“I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it~” Vinoja purred, eyebrows raising.”And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you /take it/”.

John felt his cheeks start to heat up.

“How does this man have five kids?” Ray questioned.

Sara blew her cheeks up, “hell if I know”.

“If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re /persuasive/- you got the salt and I got me an appetite, now I can /taste it/” Vinoja repeated, his voice bouncing off the walls.

John hugged his elbows as he watched, practically mesmerized. How did he get THIS lucky? He’ll never know.

Vinoja started to spin around as he floated again.”You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh, la-la-la-la-la, you get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh”.

John furrowed his eyebrows, having an inkling idea that by ‘dizzy’, Vinoja meant something else.

Vinoja opened his green eyes after delivering his guitar riff, smiling widely.”I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I’m wasted...” his voice trailed off when he spotted John, smile disappearing.

John cracked his lips into a smirk, waving at Vinoja.”Go on, luv” he mouthed.

Vinoja gulped, nodding.”If you go out tonight, I’m going out ‘cause I know you’re /persuasive/” he started on the final chorus, fingers going to work on his guitar.”You got the salt and I got me an appetite, now I can /taste it/” he winked at John, who raised his eyebrows and nodded in understanding.

“He writes songs about you, are you gonna marry him or what?” Mick whispered, John’s head snapping in his direction.

“I don’t- we’re just- I dunno” John coughed, turning back to Vinoja.

“You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh, la-la-la-la-la” Vinoja spun, floating closer to where John stood.”You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh~” he kinda maybe sorta definitely moaned that last ‘oh’, his feet slowly landing back on the ground. Vinoja strummed the last few notes, officially finishing the song. He turned to look over at Sara and Ray for approval, the latter clapping his hands like the supportive himbo the legends all know and love.

“Y’said you only had a few verses down, Vin, yet you busted out into a whole song!” Ray shook his head, amazed.

Vinoja shrugged, sending him a playful wink.”What can I say? I’m a tease”. When he turned back around, Mick was gone, but John was still there.”I dunno if Mick told you who the song was about-”.

“Oh, he did” John nodded, waving his hand to brush the question off.”You’re hella talented, darling”.

Vinoja smiled lovingly, taking off his guitar strap and putting it back on so that his guitar was against his back.”Aw, stop, John” he giggled, eyes full of adoration when they were set on his boyfriend.

John exhaled through his nose, leaning in and gently kissing Vinoja.”I love you, mate”.

Vinoja blinked slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.”I love you too, John”.

[captainmeowvelwrites]

Feeling Thorny (a miraculous one-shot)

Pairing: Marinette x Chat Noir Genre: Romance Rating: M for Marichat makeouts Words: 1904 Summary: Four years ago, Chat Noir had extended a rose between his gloved fingers. Pink for respect, for admiration, for friendship. Tonight, he offered another, but this time it wasn’t pink, and it wasn’t between his fingers. It was between his teeth. She was in trouble.

FEELING THORNY:

They’d done this for months: the banter, the laughter, the late-night movies. By this point, it was an unspoken routine. Why should tonight be any different?

Her parents would turn in early. She’d place a polished tray of treats on her desk and slip into her sleepwear - a silk button-up shirt with matching pink shorts. Two taps on glass would coax out a smile, and her strawberry lip balm would gleam in the soft lamplight.

“Come in, Kitty,” she’d call.

And he always did.

His leather boots (with those admittedly adorable toe caps) would greet her baby pink bedspread with the faintest of thumps.

“Bonsoir, Marimouse,” he’d say.

She always answered with an eye roll.

Bedsprings groaning, he’d launch off the mattress, flip through the air, and his boots would peck the parquet floor with practiced precision.

Like always, their eyes met – reunited, she briefly thought.

And then normality ended.

For there, flaunted between those dazzlingly white teeth, was a single, thornless rose.

Marinette stilled. Her eyes went wide. She couldn’t see her blush, but by God, could she feel it.

Those peach pink lips curved into one of his classic lopsided grins. Was this the reaction he’d hoped for? Or at least, the one he’d expected?

Her mind dove four years back, to that super awkward Sunday brunch they’d shared with her parents. He’d presented a rose then too.

A pink one.

Pink for respect, for admiration, for friendship.

This rose wasn’t pink.

No, it was red.

Red for longing, for passion, for ardent love.

It was fierce and breath-taking and utterly flawless, its every quality rivalled only by the blushing kitty who plucked it from his mouth to flourish toward her in one gloved hand, his other pressed to his heart. “For you, Princess.” He gazed at her, patiently, fondly, his eyes bright and green like precious tourmaline.

“Chat—”

All remaining words caught in her throat. Only then, as her eyes traced those full lips, did she realise how breathless he’d made her; how breathless he could make her; how breathless she longed for him to make her.

There was a thundering in her ears.

An ache in her veins.

A hastened pace to her every breath.

At one time, such sensations were familiar around another blond boy, but with him, she’d hesitated. Kagami hadn’t, and he’d dated her for three months. It had taken a year for the gracious hands of time to mend Marinette’s wounded heart.

But now, that was three years ago. Practically ancient history.

Chat Noir was her present. He could be her future too, if she damn well didn’t hesitate.

And she wouldn’t.

Not this time.

Anticipation burned in his eyes, his cheeks the same shade as the flower in his hand. He held it to her like a question, a promise.

“Yes.”

The single word was as breathless as her last, but he heard it. She knew by the adorable twitch of his cat ears. They always did that when she whispered, be it during a stealthy battle or in her bedroom at some ungodly hour. He didn't know she was his lady. Until Hawk Moth was defeated, he couldn't. But when his ears twitched that way, it was like her voice had a frequency all its own, one his heart knew well, even as his mind went on unaware.

His own voice, deep and rich and so utterly perfect, drew her from her reveries. “Yes?” His mussed locks swayed as he tilted his head. The most adorably clueless look overran his chiselled features.

It was then that Marinette realised he hadn’t technically asked her a question.

She really had a knack for getting ahead of herself.

But then again, so did he.

A laugh leapt from her lips. “Yes!” This time, the word came as a squeak, the sound sudden, shaky, bursting with unbridled joy. He still hadn’t asked her a question, but damn it, she didn’t trust herself to string anything more coherent together just yet. “Yes yes yes!” She threw herself into his arms. Warm arms. Strong arms. Shaped by five years of saving their city, five years of fighting by her side, five years of unparalleled friendship.

Chat Noir hadn’t expected her to lunge at him. She knew by the split-second shock on his face; how those green eyes had flown wide. Yet, his arms were accepting, weaving around her as though she belonged there.

She did.

Oh, how she did.

And she always would.

Marinette buried her face into the curve of his neck. She savoured the earthiness of his scent, the comforting weight of his embrace, the climbing pace of a pulse that wasn’t her own.

There was a hum in his chest as he laughed, low and playful. “I see yes is the word of the day.” He smoothed a gloved hand up her waist, along her bare shoulder, and swept it through her hair. “I’m purrfectly fine with that.”

Her giggle was soft, sleepy. His fingers slipped through her hair a fifth time, a sixth, a delightful seventh. “I thought you were the cat here, but I could really get used to this.”

“I should probably warn you”—she could practically hear his smirk—“I’m a firm believer of the old saying: I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine.” After one final sweep through her hair, his hand cupped the back of her head, his other swirling across the small of her back. “So, I’m expecting lots of ear scratches as payment. I hope you’re prepared.”

A smirk tugged at her lips. “Pretty sure you’re the one who needs to prepare, Kitty. My ear scratching skills are unfurgettable.”

He laughed again, the sound vibrating in his chest. God, she could stay like this all night, revelling in his voice, his laugh, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Serious question,” he said, despite the lightness in his voice. “Have you accepted my humble offering? Which may or may not now be a trampled mess on the floor.” Another chuckle buzzed in his chest. “I mean, not that I mind you jumping me.” If she’d been looking at his face, she’d have probably been on the receiving end of a playful wink.

Marinette drew back from his neck as though doing so was a chore. Honestly, it was.

Until he ensnared her with those magnetic eyes and that heart-melting smile and those tiny dimples that indented his cheeks in the most adorable way.

“I’ll accept your humble offering.” She skimmed a hand up his chest, the leather hot beneath her fingertips. “But for a purrice.”

Chat’s eyes gleamed. “Now you’re meowing my love language.” Smile remaining, he slipped a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Name your purrice, My Princess.”

Her breath hitched, her chest burning with elation, as that nickname left his lips. Not because it was new. It wasn’t. But he’d never prefaced it with a “My” before.

She loved the sound of that.

Of being his.

As they’d matured, in every sense of the word, her mind wandered through daydreams of her kitty like a movie reel stuck on repeat. Of his lips claiming hers. Of her body pinned beneath him. Of wandering hands. But as his late-night visits had increased in frequency and they’d grown closer beyond the confinement of her mask, thoughts were no longer enough.

Her appreciation of him had heightened too. More and more, Marinette’s eyes dared to wander, to drink in that athletic physique, wrapped in leather and sculpted by superheroing. More and more, her lips spelt compliments, unleashed puns, and spread into wholehearted smiles in the light of his presence. More and more, her self-restraint wilted, while her ardour went on to blossom and thrive.

Marinette gripped his bell and tugged him close. Her heart hammered in her chest, her ears, so loud he surely heard it. “My purrice for your offering?” She wet her lips, tasting strawberry. That drew his eye. “A kiss from my kitty?”

He leaned closer. “Purrhaps two kiss—”

One tug of his bell. Marinette brought his lips down to hers. It was a soft kiss. A fleeting kiss. So sudden she had no time to tremble, and he had no time to kiss back. In the seconds that followed, the imprint of his lips still lingered on hers, and her every anxiety evaporated, replaced by the thrilling prospect of something new and exciting and real.

He gazed at her lips, his tongue idly tracing his own. His cat-eyes were half-lidded and hazed, rife with emotions unknown. That made her stomach coil. Usually, those eyes were an open book, an invitation. She’d happened upon every emotion they were capable of. Or so she’d thought. Tonight, it seemed, was a first for many things.

“You’re oddly quiet,” she whispered, grip tightening on his bell. “Cat got your—”

Chat seized her lips, fierce and feral, his claws clutching her hips, pulling her close. His scent enveloped her senses—sweet, spicy, downright intoxicating. Her fingers explored the straining muscles of his chest, his shoulders, his neck, as their lips fought for dominance. For once, he refused to follow. For once, she accepted defeat.

His tongue dipped between the seam of her lips, melding with hers in a dizzying dance. Chat tasted of caramel lip balm, of comfort and sheer perfection. He drank deeply of her with a staggering thirst, his gloved hands tracing her back, her waist, the hint of skin at her hips. He gripped her glutes, hoisting her off the floor, and her legs latched around him, the leather of his suit hot against her bare thighs.

Feverish hands plunged into the silken gold of his hair to clasp his cat ears. A wild growl thundered in his throat. He staggered three steps forward and slammed her to a wall, his lips capturing her gasp as posters rustled to the floor. His right hand hit the wall. His left caressed her cheek. Every delectable inch of his body was flush against hers, a silent disclosure of his deepest desires.

Chat’s lips pressed the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her temple, as his every heaving breath flooded her mind like a symphony. He traced his tongue up her jawline. “No cat got my tongue,” he husked in her ear, “but one sure got yours.” He took her earlobe in his teeth, and she arched against him.

“Even when you’re hot,” she panted, as his lips peppered her jawline, “you’re still a massive dork.”

His teeth grazed her flushed neck, breath burning her skin. “All I got from that,” he breathed, “is that you think I’m hot.”

A smile played on her lips. “I hope that wasn’t your first clue.” She kneaded his cat ears – a woman of her word – and relished the groan that reeled from his lips; the way his hips bucked against hers; how he clung to her hair.

Their lips reunited, joining like a harmony, soft and sweet and so beautifully in sync.

She should’ve expected this. The blossoming feelings. This equal longing. These perfect kisses.

They were yin and yang.

Push and pull.

Two halves of a brilliant whole.

For years, she’d pushed her silly kitty away.

Now, she caressed the curve of that chiselled jaw and pulled those lips ever closer. They were uncharted territory, and she planned to map every delicious inch of them before the night was over.

[raspberryparker]

chocolate orange | four

Peter Parker x Fem!Omega!Reader — A/B/O Verse AU

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word count: 4,714 decided to split it up so ur getting 6 parts now summary: peter tries to come to terms with his presentation... alone. y/n can’t stand the thought of being alone. warnings: see masterlist heat/rut and how shitty it is. m*sturbation. phone s*x. praise kink. breeding kink. don’t look at me.

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BONUS PLAYLIST: spotify or apple music

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  All Peter could hear was the beating of his own heart as his blood pounded through his veins. Each heavy thump rang in his ears, preceded by the one before and followed by another, the sounds echoing through his skull.

  “No, he didn’t—no listen to me, I-I don’t know what to do, I’m by myself…”

  May’s voice was distant, a ringing in his ears blocking out the sound. It was muffled, as if he was hearing her speak from underwater. The lethargy that clung to him, the heaviness that felt like lead ran through his veins in the place of blood made him feel like he was sinking in that water, drowning in his own sweat. She was… talking to someone. Who?

  It didn’t matter, anyway.

  It didn’t matter to Peter because the only thing he was worried about was how hard he was, how hard he’d been all day, the arousal under his skin practically making him vibrate against the mattress that felt way too uncomfortable to be lying on. The cotton sheets felt like burlap, scratchy and coarse.

  “...You’re not listening to me, he doesn’t have anyone else—”

  He brought his hands up, looking at the sweaty palms. But as he did, the pale blue sheets of his bed did as well, adhered to his fingers. He shook his hands out but they wouldn’t budge.

  Peter’s arms fell heavily against the bed, another peak in the tide of arousal washing over him. He looked down at himself, noticing the sheets sticking to his feet and legs as well, but more importantly taking note of his ever hardening cock, exposed as he tried to kick the blankets away with futile attempts.

  The head of his cock tingled unbearably; it was hot and swollen, a drop of precum forming at the tip. Peter brought a hand up, still sticky from both his sweat and his abilities, and curled it around himself. He bit his lip, suppressing a whine as he squeezed on it so tightly his knuckles turned a pale yellow, sliding in and out of his grip.

  “I’m worried about him. He called an Omega over, for Christ's sake… No, he didn’t tell her! He didn’t know! I didn’t know!”

  His arms felt limp, as if they weren’t even attached to his torso, but with every ounce of strength he had, he continued to tug on his length, his movements sloppy, wet, and desperate. He tried to breathe out, let himself relax enough so his body would stop sticking to everything around him, but the exhalation quivered around a gasp. He moaned softly and bit down hard on his tongue, making sure May couldn’t hear him. He tasted pennies as the warmth bloomed from underneath his teeth. He’d definitely feel that later. Again he tried to relax, but to no avail. Peter hadn’t lost control of his abilities in four years, not since he’d first acquired them. But it felt like he was a kid again, trying to re-learn basic motor functions and failing miserably while also being insufferably horny.

  He needed to cum. He needed it so badly because if he didn’t he was worried he was going to catch on fire. His skin burned and the sheets felt like sandpaper underneath him, and his other hand was fisting the fabric so tightly he worried he’d rip it.

  When he came, he didn’t feel any different.

  He didn’t feel better, didn’t feel satisfied. But his mind cleared for a moment, enough for him to finally be able to shake himself free of the fabric clinging to him, enough to realize just how much cum was cooling on his stomach and thighs. How much he stained the sheets. Now that he wasn’t using his abilities, they were sticking to him for a different reason.

  May was barking into the receiver when his mind finally cleared enough to take in his surroundings. The sun was setting, the winter bringing an early twilight as the rain froze into snow outside. But despite the cold that blanketed New York, Peter was hot enough that if he could, he’d gladly crawl out of his skin.

  “No, Stark, I need you to listen to me!”

  May was yelling. Her words were muffled through the walls but he could hear her with astounding clarity, his already heightened senses going into overdrive. Each of her footfalls as she paced through the living room, the sighs she let out through her nose, the click of her teeth as she clenched her jaw; he heard it all as if the sounds were being blasted by a megaphone next to his ear.

  “He chose you, Stark!” she was saying. “You’re the Alpha in his life, he doesn’t have anyone else, and he needs you to help him! I… I need you to help him. I don’t know what to do, I’m not cut out for this.”

  Peter heard himself groan before he even realized he’d made a sound. He heard May stop pacing and he almost called out for her to help him, but what would he ask her to do? Bring some snow in from the street and smother him in it, try to alleviate the burning of his skin? There wasn’t much his aunt could do. He knew what he needed, who he needed, and she’d been sent away.

  The growl tore from his throat as he remembered that afternoon, the overwhelming longing making his want to claw his eyes out. He grew hard again, miraculously quickly, his body getting ready to bury himself into his Omega at merely the thought of her. Without thinking, he rolled over onto his stomach, the sheets over the mattress scratching at his skin as he did, and began grinding his hips into the bed. The wetness of his own cum felt cold against his skin, almost uncomfortably so, but he was so hot that it didn’t even matter. He’d given up on wearing clothing, knowing it’d drive him insane sooner than later. So there he was, lying naked and tangled in his sheets, pathetically humping into his mattress like a horny pubescent child.

  That’s what he felt like, at least.

  When he woke up that morning, he was sweating. There was an itch under his skin, a buzzing static that would not go away despite his attempts to alleviate it. His vision blurred as he looked at himself in the mirror, his toothbrush frozen in his mouth, and he tried not to keel over from the way his head grew light. And the shower, oh no, when he showered the temperature of the water was comparable to that of arctic seas, and yet (though this may have been a hallucination because he wouldn’t put it past himself) it seemed that the drops would evaporate the second they landed on his skin.

  May found him doubled over in his bedroom, his jeans pulled halfway up his legs, interrupted as he was getting dressed, whimpering with his cheek pressed to the carpet as he grew more and more incapable of basic movement. She had been frightened, worried he’d hurt himself or something of the like, but the moment she stepped into his room and caught a whiff of his rut scent, she coughed and sputtered from the sheer force of it.

  She called into work, letting them know she had to say home. My son just presented, she said. I need to make sure he’s alright. Can’t leave him home alone.

  Peter was too distracted by the realization that he was indeed presenting to notice that May had called him her son. And he was too preoccupied with how increasingly hard he was growing by the second, how aroused he was, to be pleased that it finally happened.

  He’d spent the day jerking off, groaning, and thinking of only one person.

  Peter didn’t remember texting or calling Y/N, the day blurring together in one giant mass of arousal, desperation and warmth, but never before had he experienced the kind of mental clarity that he did when he caught her scent.

  He’d have given anything to have her, to hold her in his arms, to pound her into the mattress underneath him until she was crying for his knot. It frightened him how desperately he needed her, and he almost cried when she refused to allow him to open the door.

  He was glad he’d had the mind to listen to her.

  “Thank you. Yeah, he’s calmed down, but I don’t know how long it’ll last… Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

  He heard the click of the phone as May put the receiver back into its dock. He heard her approach his door, raise her fist and hesitate before finally knocking softly against the wood.

  “Peter?” she asked. Her voice was unsteady, frightened and unsure. “Can I open the door? I won’t come in but I wanna give you something.”

  He grunted in response, making a half-hearted attempt to pull his sheets up so May wouldn’t have to be faced with his bare ass. Turning his head to face the door, he watched as his aunt pushed the door open slightly, her nose scrunched against the smell.

  “Tony’s coming to get you,” she told him, her voice nasally as she raised her hand to pinch her nostrils. “He can help you. He’s got some special room or whatever, I don’t know he didn’t tell me a lot but… yeah. That okay?”

  Peter nodded weakly, turning back to press his nose into the pillow and keep from groaning out loud. He bit the cushiony fabric, his tongue wetting the cover.

  “Oh, and,” May said. “Thought this might help. Y/N left her jacket.”

  At the sound of her name, Peter felt his body tense, turning back to the door just in time to see the soft winter coat as May threw it into the room. He caught it easily, raising one hand and closing his fist around the fabric.

  May shut the door quietly behind her.

  Bringing the jacket up to his nose, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he inhaled deeply.

  It was like he was drowning in her.

  His mind was racing, every fibre of his being screaming at him to find his mate and rut into her like he’d die if he didn’t. The scent invaded every single one of his senses. He smelled the tang of lemon peel and tasted the sugar of clementine juice. There was the undertone of something like orange liqueur, a heaviness he realized with a grin was her heat scent, and he groaned against the jacket. He was grateful he wasn’t so far gone as to shove it into his mouth. He at least had some semblance of decency remaining.

  He turned around once again, leaning his back against the wall, his head just missing the bottom of the top bunk as he pushed himself to sit up.

  Peter felt like an addict, clutching his drug of choice to his nose as he huffed heavily, his hand curling around his throbbing cock. His arousal hadn’t let up in the slightest all day, and he was still as hard as he had been that morning. He was heavy in his own hand, the base of his dick already swelling as the beginnings of his knot started to form. It wouldn’t fully form until it was clutched tightly inside an Omega, but the confirmation in his own hand, the heat of it as he pumped himself faster and breathed his Omega’s scent in, making him high and lightheaded in the most delicious way, was comfort enough.

  He was an Alpha.

  He swallowed the saliva down as he began to drool onto the fabric of Y/N’s jacket, muffling his moans as he panted against it.

  He felt like he was going to burst wide open, all the pent up emotion from the day coming through as his hips bucked up into his fist, as if searching for something in the air. His toes curled, every muscle in his body tensing as he drew himself closer and closer to where he needed to be.

  Peter was certain that May could hear his lewd groans and pants but he didn’t care anymore.

  He was full of the scent of home. Of summer. Of Y/N.

  Of mate.

  He bit the collar of the jacket roughly, where her scent gland had rubbed against it and where her presence against the fabric was the strongest, imagining it was her neck as he came. Peter longed to bury his teeth into her skin, feel the burst of her warm blood against his tongue as the mating mark took hold on her. He imagined what she’d sound like as he did, how she’d cry out or mewl or whimper as she trembled under his mouth. He grunted. His cock spurted one-liners of cum all over the bottom of the jacket. The Alpha in him, the new one that had only made its presence known that morning, hummed in satisfaction. The jacket belonged to his Omega, and he’d marked it with his seed, and as primal and gross as that thought was, he couldn’t help the smile the crossed his lips. He let out a breath, allowing his eyes to close gently as his mind cleared for a moment. He felt… satiated. Though he knew it to only be temporary.

  And then, because the universe was just so cruel to him, he remembered the events that unfolded that afternoon.

  He’d asked Y/N to come over, worried her beyond belief, and then shocked her with his presentation. He’d triggered her heat early, practically throwing himself at her and begging to let him fuck her. He’d made her cry. He’d hurt her.

  Peter’s eyes shot open as the thought echoed through his mind.

  He’d hurt his Omega.

  He didn’t even care to take notice of the ache as he let his head fall back against the wall with a thud, a pained sound leaving his lips. Whatever chance he’d had with her, if any at all, had been ruined all because of his own stupidity.

  He could only hope she didn’t hate him too much.

━━━━━━━━

  Empty.

  That’s all she felt. Unbearably empty.

  “...Alpha…”

  Was that her voice? Evidently it was, because she’d moved her lips, the cracking and chapped skin making her cringe as it touched. Her vocal chords hummed softly as the word croaked from her throat. Her mouth was dry. She felt like she was suffocating.

  It was dark in her room. She wasn’t sure what time it was, but she knew the sun had gone down and she knew that she’d been lying on the floor all day.

  She almost laughed at herself.

  But Y/N didn’t have the strength to, so the only sound that left her lips was a high-pitched whine.

  She’d been lying on the floor, naked and sweating, because even the thought of having anything touch her skin made her want to rip her hair out. Her body was lying in a strange pool of sweat, tears and slick, the combination of fluid making her skin stick uncomfortably to the hardwood floor. Her mother had moved her rug at her request, and she glanced over at it now, the soft material bunched against the wall under her open window. Her bed was beside her, her makeshift nest waiting for her, but she didn’t have neither the will nor the strength to push herself to her feet.

  “Alpha, please…”

  How pathetic.

  Her mother could probably hear her too, and the thought made her want to crawl inside herself and hide away for the rest of eternity, but at the same time it was just too much.

  She was so empty. But not physically, of course. The second she’d arrived home and her mother had settled her into her room, laying her carefully on the ground and making sure she had enough water to get her through the night,  she’d stuffed herself full with the fake knot she kept in the bottom drawer of her dresser underneath her socks. It’d been so easy. It slid home, stretching her deliciously, but it was so cold and hard and nothing like she needed though it’d have to do. She was so wet already, the slick her body produced dripping down her thighs and making them slide against each other as she clenched around the silicone, trying desperately to relieve the heat that consumed her. But it was incomparable to the real thing, and her body knew it.

  Whatever relief she could manage to bring herself as she squirmed around in the mess of her own fluids, tilting her hips whichever way she could and squeezing her thighs together in an attempt to get the replacement for what her body really needed to press against her insides just right, was far from enough.

  Her sweaty palm would come up to her breast, rubbing the mound almost painfully before pinching her nipple in a forlorn attempt to bring herself some relief. The other hand would reach for her neck, pressing her nails into the swell of her scent gland just at the junction where her neck and shoulder met, trying to replicate the feeling of teeth. She was sure she drew blood but she didn’t care, furiously scratching at her skin and digging her nails into her neck. It never compared to a mating bite, but the pressure alone was enough to relieve her if even just a little bit.

  Each orgasm was less effective than the last.

  Every time she came, she’d cry out, a guttural scream tearing from her throat before the groans would settle into sobs. Pressing her cheek against the cold wood of the floor underneath her, her face would contort as the pain racked her body and she cried, a hollow ache in her lower abdomen that begged to be filled.

  Begged for an Alpha.

  “Peter, please!”

  She was screaming now. Y/N couldn’t hear anything but the gross wet sounds of her body slipping on the floor, the squelch of the fake knot as she tried to press it impossibly farther inside herself by arching her back and pressing her hips into the floor, and the pounding of her heart as the blood screamed through her veins.

  It had never been this bad before. Never hurt this much. The aches and pain were normal for heats but she’d never experienced them like this. Some part of her told her it was because she’d been so close to a rutting Alpha, in such close proximity that his pheromones managed to affect her, and now that they were apart, her body was punishing her for it. It might have been what happened. It seemed logical enough to her.

  But her mind was racing far too much for anything to be logical.

  “I—I can’t—!”

  Another shriek of pain.

  Another pang of arousal.

   This was the worst heat she’d experienced since she presented. And she’d do anything it took to relieve the pain.

   Anything?

   Yeah, she thought. Anything.

   It took far too much effort to flip herself onto her stomach. And when she did, the way her nipples tugged painfully against the cold floor made her cry out. She pushed herself up with her arms, crawling like a child along the ground until she reached her night table, where her mother had carefully placed her phone. Her head was against the ground as her arm stretched up, feeling around blindly until her fingers closed around the cold metal of her phone.

   Collapsing back to the ground on her back, she held her phone up in front of her face, squinting against the bright light. Her hand trembled as she scrolled through her contacts.

   She found the one she was looking for, pressing it with a shaking finger before holding her phone against her ear.

   The ringing of the line reverberated through her skull.

   “Hey—”

   “Peter!” she cried. “Peter, please I—”

   “—you’ve reached Peter Parker’s cellphone. Uh, leave me a message and I’ll call you back when I can? Is that okay, I don’t kn—”

   The beep of the voicemail recorder cut his voice off, and Y/N almost threw her phone across the room in frustration.

   She tried again.

   Nothing.

   She tried three more times, and each time he didn’t answer, her cries grew louder. The tears were hot as they slid from the corner of her eyes to the floor. More fluid to add to the mess that she’d already made.

   It wasn’t until the fifth time she dialed his number that he picked up.

   “Y/N…”

   At the sound of his voice, she let out a stuttering sob. “P-Peter.”

   “Shit.” He sounded out of breath as he spoke. She could almost feel him panting against her ear through the phone. Though his voice was distorted, she could picture him there with her. “You okay? You don’t sound—”

   “Alpha,” she whined. Peter growled on the other end and she let out a pained moan. “It hurts so bad, Alpha. I-I need…”

   “Omega,” he snarled. She could see his lips curling back in her mind’s eye to display his teeth, and she longed for them to be pressed against her neck.

   “Help me.”

   She was crying. Bringing up her free hand to wipe the snot away from under nose, she mumbled incoherently as she pushed her heels up against the base of the silicone knot, her legs butterflying out along the floor as her knees bent, pushing the dildo up so the swell of the knot along the base of it pressed against her walls as hard as it could. Biting her knuckles, she tried to hold in her groans of pain as they mingled with whimpers of pleasure.

   “What are you doing, Omega?” Peter’s voice was rough, gravelly and harsh. “Are you touching yourself? Tell me you are, need to hear you say it.”

   “Yes.” The word wasn’t anything more than a breath, but she knew Peter heard it because of the rumbling purr that sounded through the phone. “But… it’s not enough.”

   It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until she had him.

   “I know, little Omega, I know,” he said in a pained voice. “You don’t know how—how bad I wanna be there with you. Wanna smell you, taste you, wanna lick your thighs clean of all that pretty slick.”

   Y/N let out a strangled moan, her gyrating hips making the silicone press against the parts of her where she needed it the most.

   “Alpha… it hurts…”

   “Bet you look so beautiful all wet and spread for me,” he sighed. “You gonna take my knot like a good girl?”

   “Yes!”

   At the thought of his knot, she gave a shriek. Her voice was still coarse, grinding with want and lust as she pictured him there with her.

   “I’ll be so good for you, Alpha,” she whined. “So good, please…”

   “Wanna fill you up.” The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against slick skin came through the phone. She imagined the bright red head of his cock as he fucked his own fist, and that itself lead her to let out an incoherent sound as another wave of pleasure swept over her, tangling with the pain. “You sound so sweet for me, princess. Makes me wanna stuff you with my cum.”

   “Please, that’s all I want,” she panted. “Peter, I can’t—”

   “You can,” he assured her. There was a little more authority in his voice now. He sounded more in control. Y/N had no doubt it was the Alpha in him coming through. “You can because you’re so good for me, baby, taking my cock like that.”

   “So… so big.”

   And then suddenly she wasn’t full of silicone, she was full of Peter, his thick knot pressing against that spot inside her that made her limbs tremble with pleasure. She felt him above her, pressing into her, could smell the sweet chocolate that filled her senses as he talked her to the edge.

   “Gonna fill you,” he began, a sharp groan cutting off his words. “Fill you with my pups.”

   “Alpha!”

   “You like that?”

   “Yes!”

   “Of course you do,” he purred. “Of course because you’re so perfect for me, ‘Mega. My perfect girl. Gonna mate you the second I get the chance, gonna watch you grow round with my pups.”

   She was so close, almost there, and she could tell Peter was too. His soft grunts through the phone, his rumbling growls as he tugged himself closer and closer to his climax. The thought of Peter filling her with his cum, breeding her like her body told her she wanted to be, was enough to bring her over the edge.

   “Alpha, gonna cum,” she whispered. The tears were already drying on her cheeks.

   “Come on, Omega,” he groans. “Cum all over your Alpha’s cock.”

   The screams were quieter this time, less like screeches and more like crying groans. Her body convulsed along the hardwood, chest pushing up into the air as her back arched and her mouth fell open. The cold air around her made her stiffened nipples hurt, and she brought a hand up to rub at them as she rode out her orgasm.

   Peter’s shout in her ear let her know he’d cum as well.

   The quiet that followed was stifling. The only sounds were her own breathing and Peter’s panting in her ear.

   “Y/N…”

   He sounded… upset. It made her heart tug as he sighed through the phone.

   “Peter,” she replied. “Thank you.”

   “Don’t—” He cut himself off, and there was the sound of skin rubbing against skin, as if he’d run a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t thank me. This is my fault and I… I’m sorry.”

   “It’s okay,” she whispered. “‘M already better.”

   And she was.

   She’d stopped crying, the aching emptiness in her abdomen momentarily sated. She was still sweating, her arm slipping softly along the mess of fluid on the floor as she reached down to pull the fake knot out of her entrance. She winced as she did, giving a sharp sigh as it bounced onto the floor between her legs, the slick it had plugged up finally spilling onto her thighs. She grimaced at the feeling.

   “I shouldn’t have—” he said, before a pained whimper cut him off. Y/N was afraid he’d start crying. “I shouldn’t have texted you. I triggered your heat and now you’re suffering because of me and I—”

   “Peter.”

   She was falling asleep, her voice a soft breath. Peter immediately stopped talking, as if worried he wouldn’t hear what she said.

   “We can talk about that later,” she said. “Just… just talk to me. I wanna hear your voice.”

   “O-okay.”

   He sighed into her ear and she smiled softly.

   “I don’t even know what to talk about,” he said. The quiet laugh that followed made the smile on Y/N’s face grow.

   “Anything,” she told him. “Anything’s good.”

   “Uh, well,” Peter began. “I don’t… I don’t even know where I am.”

   When she didn’t reply, he took it as a sign it was working.

   “Mr. Stark came to get me, brought me to the tower. But there’s no windows and it’s dark in here and… I don’t know what floor I’m on. There’s this big lock on the door so I can’t really get out. But I guess it nice enough. Kind of wish I was in my room but I feel like I’d have destroyed it by now.”

   He laughed again, and Y/N let her eyes flutter closed.

   “The bed’s pretty comfy, though. Just wish you were here with me. Then I’d be okay.”

   Her breathing had gotten softer. Steadier.

   “Y/N?”

   No response.

   “You fell asleep on me,” Peter laughed. “That’s okay. You need to sleep. I guess I gotta sleep too.”

   He knew he was talking to himself, but he didn’t care. He pulled the phone away from his ear, about to hang up, but he hesitated. Y/N’s breathing was slow and steady. He smiled.

   “Good night,” he whispered.

   And before he could convince himself not to, he added, “I love you.”

   The dial tone never sounded so haunting.

━━━━━━━━

A/N: this is basically some filth to keep u all at bay while i finish this. i keep adding part to this dshgjLHGlhglG. i swear it wont be longer than 6 though. place your bets now on how long that promise lasts.

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[100yearoldcomics]

July 30, 1922 Harold Teen by Carl Ed

[ID: Harold and Lillums walk around the carnival, ordering from a food stand. Harold carries Lillums' dog Pretty under his arm. Behind the couple, her kid brothers Cyclone and Tuffy commisserate. /end] Tuffy: Psst! Cyclone! he wants to shake us! Harold: How come we always gotta drag those young wildcats along? Lillums: Shh! Moms insisted on it! Food Merchant: Four Eskimo pies?

[ID: Tuffy ties Pretty's leash to the merry-go-round behind the couple's back. /end] Cyclone: What's th' idea, Tuffy? Tuffy: Pretty needs a workout! Harold: Let's put 'em on the merry-go-round for an hour or so! Lillums: No, I'd be afraid to leave them alone!

[ID: They're horrified as Lillums is pulled off by the whirling merry-go-round. While they're busy reacting, the kids run off. /end] Lillums: Good heavins! Where's Pretty going? Pretty: AWK! Tuffy: Let's go!

The fourteenth lap: [ID: Harold chases Pretty around the carousel. Tuffy & Cyclone peek out from behind a food stand, happily gawking. /end] Cyclone: Round again! Round again! Willie!! Around, around, around! ♪♪♪♪ Tuffy: Let's hunt up a banana peel! Harold: (puff) (puff)

The 29th Lap: [ID: Lillums looks on in horror as Harold continues desperately sprinting after her dog. /end] Lillums: Gracious, haven't you got him yet? HURRY! Harold: (puff) I'm (puff) gaining (puff) on (puff) him.

[ID: Harold slips on a banana peel in hot pursuit, thrown up in the air, heels over head. The kids watch, still happy. /end] Cyclone: Too bad! Just as he was about to pull off a thrillin' rescue! Tuffy: Banana peels is as slippery as they ever was! Pretty: Gurk!

The 58th Lap: [ID: Harold desperately tries to keep up with the carousel, holding onto the back of one of the bench seats set into it. /end] Harold: SWEET CATS, ain't this thing ever gonna stop? I'm gettin' so winded an' dizzy, I don't know where I'm at!

[ID: Harold grabs hold of one of the carousel's poles and pulls himself onto the deck, huffing and puffing with exhaustion. Lillums watches angrily. /end] Lillums: Ohh! The brute! Quitter! Jellyfish! Harold: Whew!

[ID: Harold is literally kicked off of the carousel by a carnie. He lands on his face while the kids peek out from behind their stand and watch. /end] Carnie: Stealin' a ride, huh? Cyclone: Oh! Baby! What a darb of a tailspin!

[ID: Lillums glares at the scuffed-up Harold as she holds Pretty tight to her chest. The kids stand behind Harold happily. /end] Cyclone: Gosh, how that dog kin run! Tuffy: Allus just a step ahead of him! Haw! Haw! Harold [thinking]: [ID: a lightbulb /end] Lillums: To think, I MYSELF had to rescue poor Pretty, and after it STOPPED.

[ID: Harold rolls up a sleeve and chases after the kids angrily. An embittered Lillums huffs off. /end] Harold: Yas! An' you young pirates better keep a step ahead of me. From now on... Lillums: You need not wait for me. I'll find my way home ALONE!

[ID: Harold chases the crying kids around a hot dog stand. The proprietor, standing in place, swivels his head around and around to watch the chase. /end]

[ID: The hot dog guy hits Harold on the back of the head with his frying pan, sausages flopping out of it. /end] Tuffy: Slow up, Cyclone, we win! Hot Dog Guy: Cut it out! I'm gettin' cockeyed watchin' you guys! Harold: Woof. SFX: BONG!

[himeadventures]

Gathering the Sprouts (Prompt #16: Bond)

The night breeze carried a soothing chill over Vesper Bay as the two of the Scions’ newest members crossed the port town’s central plaza. They had received a warm welcome at the Waking Sands, but the lengthy process of introductions had been exhausting, especially after their journey from far-off Gridania. And yet, there were still a few more names to learn: two other adventurer recruits had arrived earlier, and were currently patronizing the Pissed Peiste at the other end of town.

Stretching her arms as she walked, the dark-haired Midlander archer, seemed drained as she spoke. “Ah, do we really have to do this? I’d rather be wrapped in a warm inn bed right now.”

The other adventurer, a Keeper of the Moon in an indigo robe, yawned as her wooden cane met the green and white stone floor with gentle thumps. “As nice as that sounds, these two are supposed to be part of our squadron. It would be best to get to know the people that will be watching our backs, yes?”

“Maybe,” she grumbled. But breakfast is just as good a time for that.”

The Keeper only shrugged as they reached the oak door of the Pissed Peiste. The senior Scions had insisted that the bar would be relatively empty at this hour, so it would at least be easy to find their squadron mates. After the creaking oak doors of the bar were opened however, it was immediately clear that finding their two comrades would not be a problem.

In the corner of the cramped bar, the only two patrons with weapons on their person tightly gripped their mugs as they guzzled down the last drops of ale. The immense ceramic flagon at the center of their table clattered in place as one of the young men slammed their hands on the table. They had clearly been at it for a while.

The first, a young man with black hair, scar across his nose, and overpowering Limsan accent bellowed out triumphantly. “Six! That’s six of ‘em! Ya better get drinkin’ if you want ta keep up!”

More steadily, the tall young Highlander with blond hair and white paint across his face shook his head. “Hey, if I’m still standin’ when you’re heavin’ on the floor, I’ll take it as a win even if you’ve had one or two more. That’s five for me, by the way.”

The Highlander noticed the two figures at the door: a snickering Miqo’te with her palm on her forehead, and an archer with a piercing look in her eyes somewhere between shock and horror. He raised his free hand and waved them over. “Oh, you’re the two from Gridania right? Good to meet ya.”

The archer and the conjurer got settled at the table quickly. Not long after, the Limsan man stood up, swaying slightly, and offered his hand.“So we’re workin’ together? Name’s Pascal. Pascal Laurent! Pleasure to meet ‘ya!”

The Miqo’te smiled as she shook Pascal’s hand. “Rana Nhamera.”

Staring at the Limsan’s ale-soaked sleeve, the archer hesitated for a moment before shaking. “Teruko Mogami.”

The Highlander, in the middle of finishing another mug of ale, was the least to speak. Despite being several glasses in, the lad still had softness in his voice. “That’s six. Oh, and I’m Arenvald Lentinus. Look forward to fightin’ together.”

Certain that there was no way they were going to survive the night without drinks of their own, the newcomers took a brief detour to the bar. Teruko returned with a modest-sized bottle of apple wine. Even in their half-drunken stupors, both Pascal and Arenvald balked. It was a well-known variety imported from La Noscea, with a price tag to match.

As Pascal shifted his weight down on the table, his mug clinked against the pair of brass knuckles had had left strewn on the table. “You’re an adventurer, right? How the hell are ya payin’ for that?

Having a hint of a smile for the first time of the night, Teruko poured the nectar-like wine into her glass. “I’d say this is enough of a special occasion for something indulgent. Besides, after our last job in Gridania, Rana and I-”

As if on queue, the conjurer returned with her drink. The contents housed in a sealed earthen jar rather than a glass or bottle, the two boys looked at it curiously in between gulps of ale.

Arenvald hiccuped as he drew closer in curiosity. “Is that even alcohol?”

Teruko, meanwhile, was visibly inching her stool away from the jar. She hissed in alarm, “Rana, they had that? I can’t believe that of all things, you chose that vile brew!”

“They did. To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t tried it at all after your time in the Twelveswood.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Arenvald raised his mug. “Well, if this is a special occasion, why don’t we toast? And hope for many victories in the future!”

There were nods all around. With a clink, the four novice Scions raised their glasses and mugs and took a sip. Save for the conjurer, who had to raise her jar with both hands. All eyes were on her as she began to remove the cork.

Teruko braced herself as she uncorked the jar. “Vile” greatly understated the almighty stench of the Shroud’s infamous Mun-Tuy Brew, and the burning sewage-like odor almost caused the two men at the table to heave the contents of their stomachs.

The ears atop the Miqo’te’s head twitched as her tail jerked unnaturally straight as she took a swig of her drink. Mercifully, she resealed the jar before setting it down on the table. The entire time, the conjurer kept a straight face, evidently unfazed by the experience.

Pascal wheezed. “Blegh! If our healer can survive that shite, we don’t need to fear anythin’.”

[sympathyforladyhealer]

“onee-chan get me snacks pls”

(Featuring @mercyrius ‘s Rhichan!)

"And will that be all fer ya?"

  Nenini Neni fell out of her fugue to look at the Roe woman who had just finished wrapping several pouches of herbs and spices up. The pungent scents warded away the ever present smell of salt that wafted from the ocean. "Oh, yes! Thank you," she gave the tall woman a smile and quickly counted out the gil to hand over to the woman. "Have a lovely day."

  The merchant nodded and turned her attention to the gil as Neni walked out of Hawker's Alley with basket in tow. The warm sun fought against the breeze  of the ocean. Her basket was full of foodstuffs, stacks of cornbread from the Drowning Wench, numerous slices of fish that had been carefully wrapped and marked, cabbages and other vegetables sitting under the spice pouches. It weighed heavily, pressing into the bandages that covered her ever-harmed arm. Neni had no experience in raising children but she was sure the hefty basket's contents would be enough to keep a growing boy fed for a few days.

  She mumbled the directions he had told her to herself as she followed the bridges that connected one building-swarmed rock to another. It was easy to get lost in Limsa Lomnisa, she had learned. Her eyes swept slowly across the people she passed. The chatter around mixed with the sound of the waves below. The smell of salt, the distant scent of fire... if she thought too much on it...

   Neni took a deep breath and rolled those unpleasant memories out of her head with more pressing considerations. Obviously she would need to figure out what to cook first, what to preserve. He had asked for snacks as well. Maybe she could use some of the more leafy vegetables, thin slices of the fish. She wondered how much vinegar was in his home. She had already made sure there was plenty of salt to cure what would not be eaten soon enough. The ever quiet... servant... had been helpful in lugging the heavy pots to the kitchen. 

Maybe she could see if there were any berries to make a compote with.

   Neni wished she had her father's note filled cookbooks. It had an extensive section on Vylbrand cuisine, especially the kind that the people of Limsa adored. Besides fish and popoto chips, Neni herself was not a large fan of the food to be found.

   She came to a stop as the sunlight dimmed above her. The young woman turned her head upwards to see thick grey clouds consuming the sun allowing only pitiful shafts of light to filter out. "Oh no." She had to hurry! She began a light jog across another section of plankwork that rattled unnervingly beneath her feet, then followed the curling white stone ramp that led below to another section of the city where she continued to mutter the directions.

   The Hyur paused again.

   She was beneath the Drowning Wench, where three men lingered beneath the ramp, vaguely yeasty smelling barrels sat atop boxes that had been left in place for so long that some sort of mold was gathering around their bottoms, and hushed conversations drifted about with no source in sight. She was not entirely certain she had followed the directions right but at least she ended up close to the meeting spot.

   "Hey you! Girl!"

   Neni had an awful feeling about responding, but her manners would not let her leave. "Yes?" She turned to see the three men had turned their attention to her.

   "You look like the hardy sort," one man, a Roegadym, said. "Are you lookin' for a job?"

   Neni shook her head, "oh no. I'm actually sort of doing one right now." She gestured to her basket.

   "Ah being an errand girl doesn't pay well does it? You got any skills besides carrying a basket?"

   She tipped her head, wondering if she was being insulted. "Well I do conjury work in Gri-" The Roe's eyes went wide.

   "A conjurer!?" He gasped.

   "Are ya a free one, lass?" One of the men besides the Roe asked. "Any ship would be more than grateful to have a conjurer on board!"

   She placed her free hand on her hip. These were sailors looking to recruit it seemed, "well I would not use the word 'free'. Also I'm afraid I don't have much of a stomach for the sea."

   "Aye, same for most," the Roe shook his large head. She heard footsteps, many of them, coming up behind her. "But a few moons out and it'll be as though you were born in a storm! Why, even my first mate spent most of his first journey heavin' over the side."

   "Mayhaps one day I'll be brave enough to join a crew," Neni said with a smile, "but I'm already rather content with my current forms of employment. Thank you for your offer though."

   The Roe sighed, shaking his head while the other man spoke, "lass, I don't think yer understandin' the situation yer in. We ain't givin' a choice."

   Pirates. She had been trapped by a group of pirates. She cursed herself for not politely excusing herself earlier.

   Neni felt a heavy hand squeeze her shoulder. Knots looped into her heart and her flesh felt cold, her hands going slack as she turned her head just slightly so she could peer out of the corner of her eye at a scarred Midlander man. "Don't touch me," she hissed through a strained grin. The knots in her heart undid themselves as the ambient aether around her exploded into a whip of water that sent the man fulms backwards.

   "Now, now, there's no reason to be violent," the Roe said gently as the tossed man was helped back to his feet by a dozen other people that had stood behind her. "But, we can do this the painful way, if you were wondering. I just prefer to recruit with minimal fights."

   "I have made my decision clear," Neni insisted. She brought her free hand to her arm, fingers pressing to the bandages that hid the torn flesh from view. Her heart was beginning to drum, and she could smell fire and salt again. "I do not wish to join, and I have somewhere to go."

    "Painful way it is I guess," the Roe sighed regretfully.

   "Captain Blauwyrn!"

   Every head turned to a cheery looking white haired miqo'te boy that stood beside the ramp leading upwards. His mouth broke into a wide smile while he held a grimoire in one hand. Neni took a few steps forward, ready to set the basket down and toss herself at the pirates if they showed even the slightest intention of hurting M'rhi. She would not allow it. Even without her staff she refused to let it happen. She was not powerless, she told herself.

   "M'rhi Tia!" The Roe took a step back in shock. "What are you doing here?"

   "Captain Blauwyrnm, why haven't you paid the 43,428,393 gil that you owe to Melvaan's Gate for the sixty three tonze of hidden cargo you had forgotten to put on your manifests for the past three years?" The miqo'te asked cheerfully, as if he was simply speaking of an interesting fact. A few of the pirates were beginning to unsheathe swords or axes, but the boy seemed plainly unperturbed. Indeed, it was the captain who was turning pale. Neni reached into her boot, eyes locking onto one of the pirates who was closest to M'rhi, an axe in his hands... his back was turned to her...

   "Look, it may have slipped my mind a few times..."

   "If I were you, I would quickly go to the Gate and explain the situation." M’rhi was still smiling.

   Silence settled for a moment, before Captain Blauwyrnm began walking forward. Neni felt his massive hand grab her arm nearly jostling her knife into her ankle.

   "Just you and your crew are needed, Captain Blauwyrnm," M'rhi spoke.

   Blauwyrnm stood still, staring down at the miqo'te boy.

   "I'm not against doing this the painful way, if you were wondering," M'rhi said with the same happy tone, echoing Blauwyrnm's own words with a smug grin.

   Neni felt Blauwyrnm's hand release her. "C'mon then. To the gate!" He barked at the other pirates as he stomped away. The other pirates cast glares at M'rhi and Neni but obediently followed their captain.

   She quickly ran over to M'rhi, setting the basket down and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Rhi, what were you thinking? They could have hurt you!" She said, breathless as terrible 'what ifs' filled her mind. Her hands tightened slightly around his shoulders as her imagination conjured awful images. Too much blood.

   M'rhi stared at her for a brief second before turning his gaze down to the basket. "Oh! Cornbread!" He said as he reached down to snatch a loaf from the basket. He broke off a small bit and stuck it into his mouth, his ears perking and tail swishing while he took off another chunk.

   "Rhi, listen to me, those men could have k-" Neni's words were silenced by a chunk of cornbread M'rhi stuck into her mouth.

   "It's really good! I don't want to eat it down here though..." He said while taking her hand and tugging so that she would follow him. Neni bent down to pick her basket back up and allowed M'rhi to pull her to the Drowning Wench.

[aristocratlegacy]

Chapter 67- Healing Crystal Country

Chloe: “Hmm...fur coats?”

“...”

Chloe: “Out unless you’ve established it as your thing already. Summer hats off season? In once again.”

Vivien: “Hey, have you seen my black sweater with the weird collar?”

Chloe: ‘It’s over there.”

Vivien: “No...that’s not it. Hey, Chloe?”

Chloe: “Hm?”

Vivien: “What’s on your head? Are you exchanging floppy hats for weird sci-fi helmets?”

Chloe: “Wow, you really haven’t heard of Celestial Crown Cleansing yet?”

Vivien: “Of course I have! I’m plugged in! I just….wanted to know what you know about it.”

Chloe: “Well, depending on the different crystals you put in the emotional centrifuge, it stimulates the wrinkles in your brain so that you can think more clearly and experience life more purely.”

Vivien: :”I like to experience life pretty clearly, dear.”

Chloe: “I know! So just imagine what you’ll see when you’re Celestially Cleansed.”

Pierce: “You cannot believe what Izzy Fabulous said about Nancy Landgraab’s latest piece today at the gallery I-”

Pierce: “What’s ...goin on?”

Vivien: “We’re Celestial Crystal Crown Cleansing.”

Pierce: “Oh, I read about that, you know it’s just pseudoscience, right?” Vivien: “Whoever said that is lying and obviously hasn’t tried it. I’m experiencing life more clearly than ever.”

Chloe: “You ok, Hawkeye?”

Vivien: “Are you still sick?”

Pierce: “It’s just a headcold. I’m fine, and I definitely don’t need a helmet to tell me that if that was what you were about to suggest.”

Chloe: “Try the helmet! Seriously, I was nauseous all morning and then I put it on- now I just want watermelon and chocolate..”

Pierce: “Ew, no.”

Vivien: “Pierce! Did you borrow my black sweater without asking?”

Pierce: “Yes but don’t come in here!”

Vivien: “What? This is my room what are you talking ab- ooooh”

Pierce: “I just wanted to try it on.”

Vivien: “And?””

Pierce: “Aaaaand...my weird stomach thing is feeling a lot better, to be entirely honest.”

Vivien: “I knew we’d get you! Chloe! Chloe Look!”

Chloe: “ Ooooh my god.”

Vivien: “He said it’s helping his mysterious illness.”

Pierce: “Y’know, this is kinda...nice. Just the three of us.”

Chloe: “Totally! I feel like we’ve barely gotten to hang out lately!”

Vivien: “I know it feels like we haven’t hung out together or done anything in like....a year.”

Vivien: “Well, you did take off for a week. Where did you go anyways?”

Chloe: “Sulani! And then Windenberg.”

Vivien: “Wow, Dustin’s really treating you with that game dev money, huh?”

Chloe: “Yeah! Well, Dirk Dreamer actually took me to Sulani, then from there I went to Windenberg with Dustin”

Pierce: “Bit of a love triangle goin for ya then?”’

Chloe: “Sorta. I feel like maybe they’re just trying to one up eachother through me, but if it means I get a bunch of vacations out of it, then i don’t really mind. “

Pierce: “So you’re gold digging Glamma Opal would be so proud.”

Chloe: “No! I like them, Dirk actually just said that he could potentially see the possibility of maybe saying I love you at some point.”

Pierce: “Sweetie. Please don’t say that out loud to anybody else, I love you, but please. Do this for me.”

Vivien: “I got for realsies recognized on the street today for The Cute and the Confident. It’s really happening, guys.”

Chloe: “Aww, Vivi! I’m so proud of you!”

Vivien: “Right? I mean...I would enjoy it more if Veronica wasn’t there all the time, but I’ll live, I guess.”

Pierce: “You wouldn’t think there would be such an immediate need for a stunt double on a soap opera.”

Vivien: “That’s just it- at first she was just there for one scene but then they decided to make her my secret twin.”

Chloe: “Ewwww, did you tell them that you used to date?”

Vivien: “Yeah. They thought it was weird and made fun of us both a little bit, but said they were going with it anyway. They’re gonna do a bunch of mayhem where I pretend to be her and vice versa. It’s ridiculous- I mean, we don’t look that much alike.”

Chloe: “Ehh...you do, though.”

Vivien: “Pierce….”

Pierce: “Hmm?”

Vivien: “Your stomach is glowing.”

Pierce: “Fuck, not again.”

Chloe: “Oh my god, the Celestial Cleanse obviously isn’t enough, you need to go to the doctor!”

Pierce: “No!”

Vivien: “Why not?”

Pierce: “Because I keep getting these crazy fever dreams and I feel like I’m this close to my  artistic breakthrough.”

Vivien: “Seriously? What if you, like, die?”

Pierce: “Then they’ll say that I died for my Art- I’m not seeing the downside here, Vivien.”

Vivien: “You’re so weird. I have to go to work- two more days, man, and I’ll teleport you to the doctors myself.”

Chloe: “Ohhh nooo, we’re going to the Bailey party in two days!”

Vivien: “Ohmygod, you’re so right. I wouldn’t make you miss that, Pierce. Three days.”

Pierce: “Ew. Fine, I guess that my muse has a deadline. I’ll see you before the Bailey party, I’m locking myself in my room!”

Vivien: “It’s almost three, I gotta get to set. I’m about to go adopt a baby that my twin stole from my ex husband.”

Chloe: “Good luck cutie! Steal the baby really good!”

*Knock Knock*

Chloe: “Hey Wallace!”

Walter: “It’s Walter. Remember? You...called me Radar, because of MASH- I think?”

Chloe: “Yes! You’re the one my sister has a crush on, what’s up?”

Walter: “Did...she say that?”

Chloe: “Aww! You guys are so cute! Boop!” Walter: “You...booped my nose.” Chloe: “I sure did! And I’m gonna do it again! Boop!”

Walter: “Ooo-kay. Uh- is Vivien here?”

Chloe: “Awww!”

Walter: “Okay.”

Chloe: “Cuties!!”

*default ringtone*

Walter: “Oh, I gotta take this. I’ll talk to you later, just tell her I stopped by.”

Chloe: “Who still has a ringtone? Just put it on vibrate, man.”

Walter: “No, I like it that way- no, not you mom. Bye Chloe. No- not bye Mom!”

Director: “Vivi, Roni, I need to talk to you.”

Director: “Listen, goils, I love ya. I do- but you need to stop playin’ the goils on the show so...ah…”

Vivien: “Devastatingly real?”

Veronica: “So deep it would make the ocean jealous?”

Director: “Horny.”

Vivien: “Excuse me?”

Director: “Ya’r evil twins and ya’r always flirtin’! I know ya haive a history but I don’t think this is workin.”

Vivien: “What? I worked my ass off to be here! I earned this job, she is a snake that came in and stole my life! Like some sort of...evil clone! Damnit!”

Director: “See, Vivi, I love that enagy from ya. But ya can neva seem to chanel that at har!”

Vivien: “Ridiculous. Of course I can.”

Vivien: “How dare you try to take this from me. You have not worked a day in your life to become what I am and what I am is flawless, so you can look at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes and that...quivering pouty lip, but you won’t get me off, hot stuff, no ma’am. You can come at me hard with everything you’ve got and I’ll take it because I never step down from a challenge.”

Director: “...”

Director: “So you see the problem, then, right?”

Vivien: “Yup. That’s on me, I see it now.”

Director: “Loik, it’s not a big deal. We’ll just fiyah one of ya.”

Veronica: “Wait, what? I didn’t do anything! I’ve been completely professional!”

Director: “I literally had to crop every shot you were in to just ya face beecause ya chest was heavin so much.”

Vivien: “So...who are you going to fire?”

Director: “I haven’t decided yet. We have a couple episode til they have tah give the baby back, and one of ya will die and take the othas place. Who it is, remains to be seen. Now’s the time to impress me, ladies!”

----------

Vivien: “Okay guys, We are at a defcon 10, do you hear me, this is serious. We need a plan, I need a big publicity boost so I don’t let go from my show. Aristocrat showdown, all three of us, we’re gonna go to the Bailey party, cause a big scene, end up in all the tabloids!”

Pierce: “Guys- can you do this out in the hall? I’m not feeling very well and you’re talking, like, so loud.”

Chloe: “Damn, Pierce-y, are you ok?”

Vivien: “You look like a monster.”

Pierce: “Thanks, Vivi. You look great too. You’re wig is on backwards.”

Vivien: “It is? Shit. Did I fix it”

Chloe: “Ew, why do you still wear those? It’s bad enough that you named them all and hang them up on our wall like roadkill trophies.”

Vivien: “Leave Samantha, Veronica, and La Fontaine out of this!”

Chloe: “What happened to Esteban?”

Vivien: “Bad blowout...it’s a bitter situation.”

Pierce: “What happened to you two talking out in the hallway?

Chloe: “Why do you have to sabotage everything I do?”

Pierce: “I wish you two had never been born.”

Vivien: “This is the Bailey Party! We’ve been waiting for this all year! Why do you two all of a sudden not care?”

Chloe: “I’m just...not up for a huge party, Vivi. I’ve been feeling weird all week, and obviously Pierce isn’t up to it..”

Pierce: “What’s obvious about it, Chloe?”

Chloe: “You’ve been glowing and rolling on the floor all afternoon, Pierce, obviously you should see a doctor.”

Pierce: “That is so rude. Fine. I’ll go to the party with you, Vivi, no need to twist my arm.”

Chloe: “What?!”

Vivien: “Come on Chloe!”

Chloe: “No, I’m way too tired tonight. Have fun- Pierce, maybe like...write my phone number on your forehead in case you pass out and go to the hospital.”

Pierce: “I’ll put it on my wrist.”

Chloe: “Have fun you two.”

----

Pierce: “So what exactly is the plan here?”

Vivien: “We’re going to go out, greet as many of our connections as we can-”

Pierce: “Do we...have that many connections?”

Vivien: “Duh. Everybody watches my show, they’ll recognize me. It’s on every single day. So, go in there, find all of the people we know, and convince them to go to our afterparty at the bluffs.”

Pierce: “All the way to the bluffs? Why?”

Vivien: “Because of the atmosphere! And I know that somebody else is throwing a party there tonight and it’ll all be set up and we can form a coup pretty easily.”

Pierce: “Why can’t we just stage a coup at this party.”

Vivien: “How dare you, Pierce. Would you try to take a party away from Jay Gatsby?”

Pierce: “Gatsby? I thought this was the Bailey party, who’s Gatsby?”

Vivien: “Remember? Leonardo Dicaprio.”

---

Chloe: “Hmm...I mean...I’m probably not, like...hmmm….”

----

Vivien: “Hey!”

DJ: “Vivien!?”

Vivien: “I knew you’d remember me! You Dj’d a party I was at a few weeks ago! I tend to stand out in the crowd!”

Dj Fliphop: “You definitely do.”

*Default ring tone*

Dj: “Oh, I should answer that.”

Vivien: “Who still has a ringtone these days. Just put it on vibrate.”

*bzzz*

Vivien: “Like that! My phone is on vibrate like a normal person!”

Pierce: “Uughh. Vivi, I wanna go home.”

Vivien: “We can’t! DJ Flip- that’s what I call him, because we’re friends- is coming back in just a second- he’s a fan!”

Pierce: Hmm...no. You know what- I do not think I’m alright.” *Thump*

Vivien: “Ahh!”

Dj: “Vivien? Ok, it’s gonna be fine, I’ll get Pierce out of here, you call the doctor.”

Pierce: “What….electric man...what do you want from me…?”

Vivien: “Thanks, we’re just gonna be outside.”

Vivien: “Hey, uh...how… did you know my brothers name, Flip?”

Dj: “Uh...becaauuuse...I’m a fan! I love you on the cute and the confident. And I love the Aristocrat story, y’know, classic tabloid stuff, heh.”

Vivien: “Right. I should call my sister.”

---

Chloe: “...ok...ok…ok….I can do this. I can handle this. This is fine. This will be fine.”

*phone vibrates*

Chloe: “Hello? Vivi, where have  you been I’ve been trying to call you all night!”

Vivien: “What? Oh, it was on vibrate I guess I just didn’t notice.”

“Unbelievable.”

Chloe: “Who was that? Was that a robot?”

Vivien: “Yes. It’s not important- Pierce is in the hospital, can you meet us here?”

--

Chloe: “Oh my god, is Pierce okay?”

Vivien: “I don’t know yet!”

Chloe: “Hi. What...are you doing here?”

Vivien: “DJ Fliphopi got Pierce out of there and gave me a ride. He won’t take off his helmet though, apparently he’s quite the fan.”

Chloe: “Can, um, can I talk to you, Vivi? Alone?”

Dj: “Yeah, I, uh...I’ll just be over here.”

Vivien: “What’s up?”

Chloe: “I think I’m pregnant.”

Vivien: “What? Holy shit.”

Chloe: “Yeah.”

Vivien: “Who’s the father?”

Chloe: “Uh.”

Vivien: “You don’t know?”

Chloe: “No!”

Vivien: “Okay, uh, one thing at a time, okay?”

Chloe: “Yeah...yeah.”

Doctor: “Excuse me, Aristocrats? You can go in now.”

Pierce: “Hey, guys…”

Vivien: “Okay, I gotta say...I didn’t see that one coming.”

Chloe: “Eh...I kinda did.”

Pierce: “I would’ve appreciated a warning.”

Vivien: “It’s...kinda cute.”

Pierce: “Sorta.”

Chloe: “Can I...hold them?”

Pierce: “Please, it’s so weird.”

Chloe: “Hey there, what’s your name?”

Pierce: “Oh god, I should name it, right?”

Vivien: “I mean, it’s your baby, Pierce.”

Pierce: “That seems like kind of a stretch.”

Vivien: “So do we just like...have this baby we’re gonna take care of now? I don’t think I can live in an apartment with two babies, you guys, there’s not enough rooms.”

Chloe: “Vivien!”

Pierce: “Wait two babies? There’s another one? Where did they put it?!”

Chloe: “No! I mean...kinda. I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”

Vivien: “RIght, sorry, I didn’t mean to spill the beans on your mama mia situation.’

Pierce: “So...can you take care of it, Chloe?”

Vivien: “Pierce!”

Pierce: “Unless...I mean...we could always...have a little gallery opening....show some other art and…”

Chloe: “Are you really thinking about putting your baby in an art show?”

Pierce: “I don’t know! I don’t really want a baby, I’m way too young for this.”

Vivien: “You’re like 35.”

Pierce: “I’m basically 22, okay?”

Chloe: “So what does that mean?”

Pierce: “I dunno...I could just like...drop it off at mom and dad’s house. They usually seem pretty on top of this stuff. ”

Chloe: “Oh. yeah.”

Vivien: “That sounds like a pretty good idea.”

Pierce: “Yeah, they seem lonely since we moved out.”

Chloe: “That’ll be fun for them. Like a present.”

---

*ding dong*

Lucky: “Hey kids! I wasn’t expecting you today, come in!!”

Pierce: “Weeeelll...I have a present for you! Here!”

Lucky: “.......Who’s baby is this?”

Pierce: “Uhh…”

Chloe: “Maybe we should reevaluate...how important...knowing the parent of a baby...is.”

Vivien: “You wanna know who’s baby this is, Mom? It’s yours!”

Lucky: “Um, ok, I guess we can take care of this little cutie...do they have a name?”

Pierce: “Nope! We thought that you’d want to!”

Lucky: “Are they an alien? Hey cutie...Hello….Roswell.”

Chloe: “Alien baby? Ghost mom! It’s a perfect match!

Vivien: “We’re gonna take off, stuff to do, soap operas to film. Love you guys!!”

Chloe: “You three have fun together!”

Pierce: “You’re welcome! Byeeeee, love you! ”

Thanks for reading! This chapter could also be called “How can I keep that alien baby and still make Chloe the heir since she won the poll” I’m sure Pierce will come around and do the right thing lol. Funny story about that- I complained on the official ea forum that I hadn’t gotten an alien abduction in a really really long time, in the next update they increased the likelihood, Pierce immediately gets abducted and gets pregnant, and I have to figure out how to deal with it. I love it. Anyway, leave a comment if you liked it!

[modosphere]

... looks a lot like a tragedy now: a dara drabble

So I know I said this would be the final drabble, but I couldn’t sit on it with so much done, so I shall update the (actual) last one very shortly!

Also... Urgh, I hate myself, because basically, this entire series has made me want to continue a final version/part of the MODosphere, but different to what I wrote before (more Zafar-focused), so if anyone would be interested in that, please let me know! I play myself sometimes, I swear...

Happy reading guys!! I hope you enjoy it :)

The Sunken Gardens, Kensington Palace Kensington, London 2041 1 Day to Go

Dany couldn’t move.

He didn’t… Understand. Not in an angry, frustrated way, but in a genuine, confused sort of way. For the first time in his life, Dany couldn’t… He couldn’t see the bigger picture, he couldn’t recognise the pattern. The way Samara was acting…

A few moments ago, Mara had stood in front of him and spoken and Dany had thought he’d understood what she was talking about. He’d thought they both had. But now that she was gone, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know.

All he knew, was that he didn’t want to lose her - and she couldn’t take losing anyone else. Not right now.

… But she hadn’t wanted him to say - whatever it was, that he’d wanted to say.

It didn’t… Make sense. Surely it should have been simpler? That was the most confusing part. Wasn’t this meant to be… Simpler?

His parents made it sound so simple. Like everything had just… Eventually fallen into place, that they’d been able to place their trust in the universe and all else had managed on its own.

Was he wrong? If that wasn’t happening, were these not the feelings he thought they were?

Could he be wrong? After spending so much time… Avoiding it?

“Please tell me you’ve told her.”

Dany closed his eyes in defeat - before turning around to face Ari, who stood before him with her arms crossed over her chest, looking… Less than impressed.

“Ari, listen to me-” Dany began tiredly - but Ari shook her head, and Dany, knowing better than to argue, sighed and waited for the onslaught.

“How much longer can you put it off? You’re meant to be getting married tomorrow. You’ve promised, over and over again, that you’ll tell her-”

“Ari.” Dany tried again. “It’s… Complicated-”

“You’re here! At her mehndi! When you’re not meant to be, have you thought about how everyone’s going to react if they see you? How it’ll look tomorrow, if you ditch her at the altar-”

“If-” Dany repeated incredulously - though he didn’t quite know why. After all, logically speaking, Ari was right. It was still a possibility.

The kiss Mara had given him had felt like enough of a goodbye for it to be true.

Dany’s head hurt.

“Have you thought about what you’re doing? Really thought about it?” Ari continued. She looked very pretty this evening; her hair was tied into a ponytail, being led into by a complicated set of plaits, and she wore an outfit of burnt orange that suited her nicely. “Bhaijaan, you are about to throw away someone who really loves you for someone who-”

Dany’s head jerked up sharply as Ari suddenly stopped.

“Someone who what?” He immediately asked, sounding… Sterner than he’d anticipated. Ari said nothing, chewing on the inside of her lip. It was like he’d been slapped - and Dany remembered Mara’s words in the car, about what Ari thought, about what she really knew. “What were you about to say?”

Realisation crept on him, slowly but surely, as Ari refused to speak.

“You promised me you’d tell her before the ceremony. Even if not for you, or her, don’t break your winning streak of never breaking a promise to me now, please, for God’s sake.” Ari finally muttered - before groaning. “Look, just - go, please, okay? Obviously Raj knows you’re here, but if Pixie sees you and finds out you still haven’t spoken to Samara-”

“I’m going.” Dany mumbled quickly. Ari didn’t need to finish that sentence, and Dany didn’t want her to. “I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”

Ari pulled a face that clearly expressed how dumb a plan she thought that was.

“Get some sleep. Please.” She huffed, squeezing her brother’s arm. “Just… Think about what you’re choosing to do tomorrow. Or not choosing, by not saying anything. Bye.”

Danyal didn’t bother to correct her. In fairness, the part of his brain that was still fairly reasonable, could accept that there wasn’t much to correct.

“Bye.” He managed to mumble - and just like that, within seconds, he was alone again in the dark… Wondering what the Hell he was going to do next.

. . .

Everything else was a blur.

Time didn’t exactly whiz by. In fact, it felt strangely long, like it was being stretched - and it felt like Danyal was being stretched with it, and so was this entire process, but that it was all happening so slowly that only those on the inside could see the gradual change at all.

He was awake when his family arrived, late from the festivities - but, upon hearing their excited chatter and relaxed laughter, knocked back a few sleeping pills to drown them out. As a result, his sleep was deep, but not restful - and even though Danyal felt an exhaustion that ran so much deeper than just one night’s sleep, he accepted his newfound aches, knowing he wouldn’t have slept fitfully anyway.

He was up before sunrise. He heard the sounds of the London traffic outside of his window steadily increase; he saw the sky change hues through the slit of a gap between his heavy navy curtains; he heard the quiet chatter of his parents as they went showered and went downstairs, already preparing for the day.

By the time he’d heard the beginning sounds of Zarina and Kabir getting out of bed, though, something had finally changed.

This wasn’t him. The feelings and the self-doubt and the confusion, like he was some sort of lost little boy. It didn’t matter what Samara said, or Zarina, or Divya, about who he was or what he was. He knew himself. He was Danyal Zafar. He didn’t sit on his ass and panic, he got things done.

So that was what Danyal decided to do, before he’d even gotten out of bed that morning. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know how, or when - but by the end of the day, he vowed to get things done.

*

The Kensington Hotel South Kensington, London The Day of…

Surprisingly, Mara woke up… Refreshed.

It was a weird feeling - to wake up in another plush hotel bed, to hear the distant sounds of the London traffic through the soundproof windows, to feel the sun shining in through the heavy, drawn curtains - another one of many, another reminder of the past few days where she’d woken up with swollen eyes and what had felt like a hole in her chest… But not feel that. Samara awoke relaxed and calm - almost excited, for what the rest of the day would bring.

This was the end of the beginning. This was where the real story started.

Taking a deep breath, and resting her arm somewhere above her head, Mara snuggled under the duvet and closed her eyes, thinking. Anything worth thinking about had to be thought about now. She wouldn’t have time later - and some things… She didn’t want to think about anyway. Once her eyes were open, that was it. The day was beginning.

Don’t, Danyal. Please, don’t, I can’t.

She’d blurted it out, but not because she’d been scared. She hadn’t sounded desperate (or, liked to think so. Her eyebrows furrowed as she considered this). It had just been… Honest. Tired.

Mara wasn’t going to waste any of the day’s precious energy on trying to understand something that would no longer exist (even on the fake-as-fuck plane it currently existed on) by the end of the day. But Mara did feel… Okay, about it.

You’re not not wanted it.

With her eyes still closed, Mara felt the corners of her mouth lift in a small, sad small. It was a naive comment. Nobody wanted her. Mara felt like she’d been kicked around enough in the past week to know that.

… But it was nice for someone whose opinion she trusted, at least when it came to serious things (or anything not involving Divvy Kapoor), to say otherwise.

Samara reluctantly opened her eyes. Divvy Kapoor.

“He knows what he wants.” She murmured to herself, her voice sounding oddly loud, but weirdly… Hidden, too. It sounded bizarre, but in a weird way, it was nice. Like her words were locked in this room, as long as she was only speaking to herself, just in this moment. “You’re helping him.” She hesitated. “You’re helping your friend.” She clarified, frowning slightly at the ceiling.

Mara sighed. Even to herself, she sounded unconvincing.

Then she threw back the covers and got on with her day.

*

The day didn’t just disappear the way the evening before had. Mara was… Present.

Even though everyone had made a great big show of telling her not to go the gym, after rubbing off the dried henna to reveal the dark red patterns underneath, Mara snuck down to the gym; and, after that, headed back to her room… Now transformed.

Her cousins’ outfits were hanging from anywhere they could throughout the room, the makeup artists’ cases strewn in the remaining floor space not already taken by furniture and boxes of shoes and jewellery.

After being rushed into the shower, with instructions and lewd jokes being shouted through the door, Mara was shoved - towels and all - into a chair, as preparations began.

Romantic Asian music played loudly from someone’s wireless speakers, and the room was filled with a cool breeze, wafting away the otherwise overbearing traces of different types of perfumes and makeup. Her aunt was there too, and even though Mara felt her resentment, she wasn’t exposed to it, which made for a nice change… In fact, she wasn’t really exposed to any of it.

Mara sat there, smiling at the relevant jokes, rolling her eyes at the others - but there, at the makeup table with a stoic expression, Mara felt… Separate. She was separate.

Brides always were, of course - but this was more. As much as Mara and the rest of them said it, her cousins weren’t her sisters; and they, really, weren’t her family. They never had been.

Mara felt a heaviness in her chest as she watched the four of them, giggling and joking behind her, in her reflection. They didn’t know, of course. As far as they were concerned, they were all family. They didn’t understand that Mara wasn’t, and never had been and never would be, one of them.

Mara did as she was told and lifted her chin slightly, as the makeup artist applied corrector underneath her eyes. One of Samara’s eyes caught her reflection again, just past the woman’s arm.

You’re not not wanted.

Mara inhaled deeply, fighting a small smile. The heaviness was gone - and although something else began to… Chew at her chest, in that moment, Mara was too adamant to enjoy what she could to think anything of it.

. . .

She looked super hot.

… “Samara!” Her uncle called through the door. Mara’s heart did an odd skip at the sound and, for a split second, all she wanted to do was lock the room and hide - and stay hidden, in this hotel room, until someone she knew, someone she trusted, could come and get her. Someone who made her feel wanted. In that split second, Mara nothing wanted more than to stop everything - everything - and just… Hide and think. “It’s time to go!”

“Coming!” She shouted back - before staring, wide-eyed and terrified, at her reflection one last time. The split second of fear disappeared, and confusion and further fear at even wanting it, took its place instead. She tried to shake it off. The next time she’d be in this room… It would be all over. “Shit. Yes. Okay.”

She was about to enter an art gallery full of important, influential, powerful people… And lie to them. Lie to them about who she was, about being in love with her fiancee, about wanting to get married - and then lie some more, by saying she was heartbroken to not be marrying her fiancee, after his ex stormed the stage, demanding his love and affection.

It was fine. Cool. No problemo.

… Except, it was. Because some of those people in that room, as powerful and important as they were, were also people Mara respected. People she liked. People she didn’t want to lie to, people she would be sad to leave.

You’re not not wanted.

Mara glanced sharply up at her reflection, breathing deeply to try and calm her stuttering pulse. No. No. She had to do this. Of course she did. What other choice was there? Mara dared her reflection to answer. It didn’t.

“Samara!” Her uncle called, knocking again.

Mara exhaled deeply, nodding at herself - before tossing back her head, and calming herself, rearranging her features so that it were as if she were the calmest, serenest person in the world.

But on the inside?

… Shit.

. . .

Everybody was already seated by the time Mara arrived; it was tradition. To have everyone waiting for her, to have everyone watching her big entrance on what was meant to be one of the biggest days of her life.

Mara swallowed, keeping her head down and allowing her uncle to lead her forward through the sea of tables, as she realised something - it was. As much as Samara had never found weddings that interesting, or considered it stupid to place so much importance on one event… That’s what this was.

It was going to be her proudest moment. The moment where she’d have fooled everyone, outsmarted the world…

… And nobody would know about it.

She frowned, trying to focus on holding her skirt slightly so as to not trip. She’d never thought about it like that before. She’d been… Proving something. Letting herself out of a box.

But now, as Mara felt hundreds of pairs of eyes on her as she walked towards the platform where Mara knew Dany, Kabir and their parents were waiting, Mara realised… All of these people would never look at her the same way. They’d pity her. Even if she told, even if she broke the promise she and Dany had made… It wouldn’t matter.

Of course, that didn’t matter either, she reminded herself hastily, as another slow, romantic Bollywood song began to play in the background. It was making her irritable. If the couple in question, at any wedding, needed romantic background music to remind themselves that they were in love (or supposed to be), didn’t that indicate something was a little bit wrong?

None of it mattered. None of it. This wasn’t her life, her wedding, her world. So what if nobody knew? She knew. Danyal knew.

Mara stopped, the force of what she’d just thought punching her in the gut.

Why did it matter if Dany knew?

He’s a good contact, the sensible voice in her head reasoned; the same part that noticed the crowd glancing, seeing her hesitate just before reaching the stage. They all seemed to find it cute, endearing almost. He’s someone whose intelligence you respect. It’s just… Nice to have someone like that’s acknowledgement.

Something felt wrong.

You’re fine. Brush it off. You’re fine, Mara told herself. She glanced up - and caught how Danyal’s parents, noticing her sneakers underneath her skirt, smiled secretively to each other. Mara flushed.

Her eyes wandered. To Kabir, giving her a small thumbs up - Mara smiled, her chest warming at his innocent smile. She was going to miss him - and then finally, Danyal, in all of his wedding finery; an outfit matching her own, at the insistence of Annie upon first seeing Mara’s dress was part of a bridal set. His tunic was of red velvet, with white flowers creeping along it, and beige tapered trousers to match. He even had a matching set of pearls; ones pinned to his tunic, keeping his scarf pinned over his shoulder.

She thought she would’ve laughed; that she’d have to hold back giggles, seeing him so dressed up. She thought he may have worn a turban, as was traditional, like he had at that shambles of an attempted wedding with Divvy - Mara could remember him telling her how it had itched.

You’re no better. This wedding is attempted, isn’t it?

But - anyway - she wasn’t giggling. If she had thought she looked like some sort of badass princess, Dany looked like some sort of… Haughty prince and, with his hair quaffed gently back, Mara had to admit that it… Suited him.

He looked… Scared, though, too - and somehow, that made Mara feel better. She was just nervous, and so was he. That’s all that was happening.

“Samara?” Her uncle asked quietly, glancing at the crowd.

Mara shook her head slightly - before going back to her performance, smiling slightly, being sure to come across shy.

“Sorry, I just - I’m ready now.” She replied, knowing full well everyone was watching her. She could feel their knowing stares, the way they rolled their eyes slightly, as if to say - how cute. Look at how nervous she is.

Mara stepped up onto the stage.

All of a sudden, things got very… Strange. Difficult.

Mara felt her uncle step aside as Dany’s family greeted her; as Kabir stepped forward and gave her a tight squeeze, grinning - and for a moment, Mara was confused, because wasn’t he sad? But no, of course he wasn’t. And she didn’t want Kabir to ever be sad. He was just… Trusting what they’d spoken about before.

Mara squeezed him tightly back, all the same.

Mara hesitated at Danyal’s mother - but, to Mara’s surprise, she simply smiled warmly at her.

“We like the shoes.” She whispered, as she hugged her in welcome. Mara stared at her in surprise when she pulled away. “You look lovely.” Soph told her sincerely - and for a minute, Mara’s eyes welled up with tears and, maybe she was imagining things, but… For a moment, Sophia Zafar’s did too.

But this is his family. Not yours.

Samara glanced over to her seat, on the other side of the stage, as she stepped forwards in front of Danyal’s father; and it hurt, to see it so empty. It was her mother who should have been telling her she looked pretty. It was her father who was meant to be greeting Danyal’s father, all serious and sombre, because it was such a huge moment and anything could go wrong - which was right, it was true. It was all about to go wrong.

“Welcome to the family.” Dany’s Dad grinned; and as he pulled her in for a tight hug, Mara had to squeeze her eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. They’re not your family. She didn’t have a family. She didn’t belong to anyone, there was no-one here, on her side, that weren’t only there because they had to be, out of some fake sense of duty.

Why couldn’t this be her family? How did one person get so lucky, how could someone as stupid and blind as Danyal spit in the face of it, for someone like Divya? He deserved better. His family deserved better. Mara wanted better for them.

“She’s not your family yet.” Mara’s uncle joked, though Mara knew he was being serious. If only he knew. Reluctantly, Mara pulled away from Aman’s embrace - and her breath caught in her throat, as she realised Danyal had seen. He’d seen how tightly she’d held onto his father, how for a moment, her face had crumpled and her lip had begun to tremble.

“Formalities.” Aman muttered, winking in Mara’s direction - and Mara actually laughed, fighting back more tears as she wished that were true.

Mara tried to keep her head down as she walked past Danyal, towards her seat, trying to hide how much it hurt. How it felt like she was saying goodbye. How she was saying goodbye, to good people, kind people, people who had cared for her when nobody else did.

And for what? To get away from people who weren’t like that? But that was the point. People weren’t like the Zafars. The Zafars didn’t exist in the real world, where people were cruel and selfish and vindictive. Mara lived in that world, not theirs. That was all she knew.

But she couldn’t help it - as her uncle led her to her seat, ignoring all pretence of an awkward, formal interaction between bride and groom (though at this point, Dany and Mara had played their roles a little bit too well for anyone to believe that - and it was something they both knew) -, her eyes met Dany’s as she walked by, blinking back her tears before her mascara ran.

She steeled herself in that. He was focused. They had a job to do, a plan to execute. He was right. She had to be focused too.

She sat down, her uncle between them.

Mara took a deep breath, keeping her head bowed and her eyes trained on the hem of her skirt as she tried to calm herself.

She closed her eyes, holding her breath for a minute, as she felt the ripple of movement through the crowd - as the women covered their heads with their scarves and the men bowed theirs, all of their hands clasped in prayer as the imam, the priest, began.

There was a roaring in Mara’s ears. She didn’t want to cry anymore, but her eyes were blurry from all of the unshed tears, and she had to be careful when attempting to blink them away - there were so many the they threatened to spill and she had to be careful with her emotions, especially when they were so close to the end. As the prayer continued, her heart felt more like it was beating in her throat than her chest - but Mara was still sure she could see it, pounding through her blouse, for everyone to see. They could. She could feel it. It felt like she was a cartoon, like something on display in a museum.

But she had to look up.

She had to find Divya.

Slowly, as if her eyes were struggling to even follow the order, her eyes flickered upwards from the floor - and Mara felt confused again, like she was on display and everything else was in a bubble outside of her own, as she saw Pixie and Raj and Ari smiling up at her; Ari with tears in her eyes, Pixie looking proud.

Mara felt her eyebrows furrow. Why did they look so happy? So… Pleased? The plan hadn’t worked yet. Were they thankful? Was that what it was? It had been the look Kabir had given her - had Kabir shared what Mara had said to him the night before? She wasn’t sure if that extended to the others. Kabir was different - younger, more separate from the mess that this entire plan had caused.

Something felt… Wrong. All of it. Somehow, all of it - and as soon as she felt that, Mara felt her heart speed up again (if that were even possible) because this was wrong, all wrong! She was lying to people, good people and she felt as if she were suffocating - her head hurt and her legs were trembling and her hands, clasped in prayer, were resting on her knees to hide how violently they were shaking.

And then she saw Divya in the doorway, by the entrance.

It went away. All of it just… Went away.

The pounding heart, the trembling in her limbs, the way her throat had felt dry and scratchy, her watery eyes. It just… Stopped. Like the clouds had parted.

But there wasn’t any sunshine. Instead, Mara just felt… Empty.

The imam turned to Danyal.

“Do you, Danyal Aman Raja Zafar…”

Mara’s fingers curled slightly.

Any second now. Any second, and it’d be all over.

“I consent.”

Mara closed her eyes, finding them suddenly bone-dry. Here it came…

“Do you, Samara Eliza Kayani…”

Milliseconds felt like eons as the imam turned to her, reciting her list of vows and duties, just as he had to Danyal. Any second now. If Divvy maybe had two brain cells to rub together, maybe she would have realised it would’ve been more sensible to interrupt -

Mara’s breath hitched in her throat.

Wasn’t Divvy meant to interrupt before Dany…?

She glanced up, her eyes immediately finding Divya at the back of the crowd… And Mara felt her heart plummet into her stomach, nausea balling at the back of her throat, as she saw Divvy’s face.

Horrified. Sad. Filled with tears.

Still trying to be subtle, still trying to play her part of the quiet, nervous bride - Mara glanced at Dany from the corner of her eye - and she felt her entire body begin to tremble, ever so slightly, as she noticed how he stared at the ground somewhere by the hem of Mara’s skirt, his jaw slightly clenched with the effort of looking neutral.

What was happening? Why wasn’t - why was Divya crying? Wasn’t Dany meant to… Signal her? Mara knew everything had been going to plan. Mara had overheard Tabby mentioning how cute it was, that Divya had visited Danyal before the ceremony. How sweet it was, that her family and Dany’s were so close.

“Samara?” Her uncle said gently.

Samara started slightly, staring at him with wide eyes. Danyal’s mother looked slightly confused, and the room was staring at her, watching, waiting for baited breath - because she was the bride. It was her turn to say she consented. To get married.

They all thought she was nervous.

Mara opened her mouth to speak, but her mouth was dry and she wasn’t sure words could come out if she wanted them to. She turned slightly - to the rest of the hall, to her friends - Dany’s friends, his friends and family, Raj and Pixie and Ari - but they… They all looked fine, they all looked happy, encouraging almost.

What was happening? Didn’t they realise? They knew the plan. They knew what was meant to be happening, what wasn’t - why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Why couldn’t they see something was wrong? Divya was meant to be saying something! Why wasn’t anyone confused, or stressed, or surprised like she was - why weren’t they doing anything, when everything was going wrong?!

“Samara.” Her uncle murmured, a playful expression on his face that Samara immediately knew was for the rest of the crowd. She tried to tune them out. To focus on him instead, on his concern. But her mind was going a million miles per minute and she - she just - she couldn’t focus. She had something to do. She was meant to be doing something - something else - acting aghast, horrified, heartbroken even, as Divvy executed the plan she and Danyal had had all along -

But now she didn’t have to act.

Because she really didn’t know what to do next.

“Samara, the imam asked you if you consent.” Her uncle pushed. He placed his hand on her wrist - and Mara winced, almost jumped, because it felt like a handcuff, not a hand. Even if it was all in her head… That was what it felt like. “Do you?”

She was back in Pakistan.

In Islamabad, back in her and Danyal’s old office - arguing, struggling to even talk to each other without frustration pouring out, Mara - Mara’s hands curled into fists - Mara being scared of this very thing happening - but that wasn’t the memory sticking out.

Are you worried you're going to have to marry me out of pity?

No, of course not!

Mara looked at him again, but not confused this time. Beseeching. What was happening? Why didn’t she understand, why wasn’t she being allowed to understand?!

They were friends. They were meant to have, at least once, been friends - why was he hiding things from her? Why wasn’t she prepared?!

… And then he looked at her.

Everything stopped. It was like something… Something out a movie, as stupid as it sounded. But that’s what it felt like. Everything, despite already being quiet, fell silent; everyone else fell away, and it was just them, the two of them, looking at each other with their fathers between them.

That was when she realised it wasn’t a mistake.

What had he said? About the ultimatum he’d give Divya? About how she needed to stand up in front of everyone and admit to her feelings, like she’d wanted him, like she’d tried to force him to do? How he’d seemed bitter and angry and Mara had been shocked, because that wasn’t how he was with his precious Divya, oh no, she could usually do no wrong -

He was doing it to her.

He was making her choose.

No. No. This was not a part of their plan. Mara nails dug into her palms, so hard it felt as if her knuckles would burst out of the skin - but she couldn’t feel it.

He wasn’t doing this. He was not allowed to do this!

Dany’s expression gave nothing away - he just watched her, just once, for a few seconds - but it was too careful. It wasn’t real, that wasn’t him being real. There was something - something wrong…

He knew. He had to know. Right?

Or was he just confused? Just like she was? Dany went into neutral mode, robot mode - but this was more than that, usually she could see that, usually she could understand that -

What if it was more?

You’re not not wanted.

No. No, no, NO. That wasn’t a good enough reason. Not even to herself, not even in that moment, in her own head. That wasn’t a good enough reason! They’d had a plan. No matter what, no matter what else happened and whatever else she had been forced to get her head around, they’d had a plan.

No. The answer was no. No!

“Samara-”

No. Absolutely not. This wasn’t her mess. She’d said it from the beginning, she - this was Dany’s mess, his problem to fix, not hers. She’d played her part. She’d performed her role. Enough was enough!

… But she felt like she was falling down the rabbit-hole and zooming in, closer and closer, to wonderland. Everything else was a bubble. Everyone else was in a bubble, cartoons, in bright colours and happy, encouraging smiles and she was going to be sick. She was going to be sick. She was going to puke, just throw out the words and it would be chaos, but she had to, what choice did she have - but she could feel them, Dany's family, his friends, her friends, Danyal, Dany, her family, everyone in that room -

No. No.

I don’t consent.

“I consent.” Mara’s eyes widened - horrified, terrified, totally lost - as her mouth continued to move, to say words like she wanted them to, except something crucial was missing. “I consent, I - I consent.”

It was like she was stuck. Stuck as everything moved around her in a weird slow-motion that felt sped up at the same time, shapes and sounds around her, as she sat there, unable to move, unable to think, unable to breathe - as everyone around her breathed a collective sigh of relief, and they moved, the silence broken now the vows had been said.

She couldn’t move. She wasn’t there anymore.

What had she just done?

She had to tell them - had to stop them - tell them it was all a mistake, she didn’t consent, she didn’t consent -

You’re married to him now, a cruel, smug voice coming from her own head, told her. What can you do? You’re married to him.

Slowly, forcing the movement of every inch, her chest gently heaving, Mara turned to look at the rest of the stage.

She felt a hand on arm - and just like that, there was noise again. Noise and people - music in the background - the chatter of the room - Aman Zafar’s hand on her arm as he smiled down at her.

“I’m sorry.” Mara managed to say - or, she thought she was saying it, but she couldn’t be sure. Her words weren’t coming out right. It sounded like she was shouting, but really, she wasn’t sure if it came out even as a whisper. “I - I’m sorry-” I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but there's been a mistake, this is all a mistake, I’m sorry -

“It’s absolutely fine. We’re not that old, that we can't remember how scary it all is.” Aman smiled - and Mara wanted to yank her arm away, tell him no, no, listen - but then his wife was beside him, the woman Mara had always wanted to be, and she was smiling, nodding, happy even.

“Welcome to the family.” Soph told her sincerely - before gently taking hold of Mara’s face and gently pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Mara’s eyes closed as she fought back tears - this time not the sad, still manageable ones of before, but large, loud tears that got caught in the back of her still-dry throat, hysterical tears that Mara had to squeeze her lips together for to avoid letting out a scream.

“Officially.” Aman grinned at her uncle - and Mara could only nod and force a smile, one that took all of her strength to conjure, as Soph looked at her; her face questioning, questioning and kind - and there was more kindness there, in this woman's face, this woman who had been suspicious of her all along, her hero, than her own family had ever shown her in years.

Mara moved aside as her uncle and Aman Zafar shook hands, moving to sit beside one another. She clutched onto her skirt, wrinkling it, but she didn't care, she didn't care about the beads pressing into her palm, she didn’t care -

She turned - and there stood Danyal.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how. She didn’t know what she even wanted to.

“S- Samara-” Dany tried to begin resolutely… But he stopped, as Mara blinked.

Just once. But it was so… Defeated.

Mara watched as Dany’s neutral expression fell away, as it became something else. Something… Surprised, something sad.

She didn’t care. She didn’t care one fucking bit.

They sat down - next to each other now, their legs brushing slightly until Mara moved hers away. Opposite them, she could see the rest of them - Pixie and Raj and Ari, Kabir with them now too, looking happy, looking pleased.

How could they? How dare they? How dare they be so… Callous, so audacious, to watch and smile? And laugh? Like it was a game they’d all win?

That was what they’d done. Reduced her life to a game.

Mara hid her hands in her lap as the evening continued, her nails dug into the flesh of her palm the entire time.

She focused on that. On the ache in her fingers, on the tension in her knuckles, of her arm shaking from the strength she couldn’t keep up for much longer.

But she did.

She had to.

Prince and Princess, that smug voice mocked. It didn’t even surprise Mara to think it sounded like her mother.

In an odd way, it helped. Mara sat there, perfectly still, perfectly perfect. Like a puppet on a string.

Like the perfect little doll she’d been pretending to be all of this time.