#I hope y’all like this!! probably one or two more parts to come

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

You’ll never guess what happened. The demon came back, angrier AND hornier. I always thought I was a Price/Simon girly but Soap snuck his way all the way in here. I blame the Soap thirst edits on TikTok. Too pretty. Anywho, this is one of the rare times I don’t get bogged down in preamble, which is to say, a poorly veiled excuse to admit I don’t make it to smut very often. I hope… it’s good? Idk it’s all embarrassing.

That’s it for this one probably. I’ll see y’all out there.

All for One, One for All, part 2

Part 1 here

TW: NSFW, MDNI, fem reader. I’m bad at tags, sorry.

“I said, are you broken?”

“No sir.” You said quietly. Curled in on yourself, legs covering your important bits, your fingers fuss with the seams of the couch. You feel like you’ve done nothing but cry for the last hour, so much for being a big tough soldier.

Eyes still on you, he blinks for the first time in forever it seems. “Good.” Price finally stands. He always seems big but he’s towering, a monolith as you lay in his shadow. He takes a deep breath and says “Before we begin, I need you to be honest with me.”

Beside you, you hear Ghost wrestle Soap down to the couch, balaclava askew as he grabs his legs and forces him on his back.

“Ah, eyes on me.” Price barks. Not breaking his eyes, he pulls his shirt off. Jesus fucking Christ. It’s the military, you all have seen plenty of each other in various dress. But this is too much. He’s a hairy man, chest full of soft dark down, with a thick trail leading into his low pant line. You wonder if it’s just as thick near his cock.

Fingers snap, bringing you back to the task at hand. A chuckle shakes his shoulders. “You usually listen so well. More than these two anyways. We’ll have to work on that.” A mumble comes out of Soap, you figure it’d be more of a complaint if Ghost wasn’t biting his bottom lip.

You yip in surprise as Price falls to his knees in front of you. Irises blown out, you figure your eyes can and will fall out of your head by days end. He reaches for one of your knees, so far just feeling you, rubbing his thumb. Finally letting his gaze fall, he says, ”Why’ve you been running from me, love? You’re so… skittish. You’re such a good soldier for me,” he trails, taking your ankle in his other hand, bringing it to the floor tenderly. “I’ve never wanted to pressure you, make you feel like you’re here for the wrong reasons. You’re as much a part of this squad as I am.” His hand runs from your ankle to your toes, his warm fingers carding through them. He looks to the side. “What’s this really about?”

Your heart freezes as he treats you so gingerly. You’ve been so obsessed with your own worries, you didn’t even stop to consider that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. “I, I uh.” You take a moment to collect your thoughts, steady your breathing. Even Ghost and Soaps wrestling slows, you feel their eyes in your direction as the room falls to near silence. “I didn’t want to fuck anything up.” You say slowly, almost sadly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. I’m a … mess. I—“ you hiccup, shaking your head, trying to push through the weight in your chest. “didn’t want you to find out that I’m not worth it.” You finish quietly.

Hands squeeze you tightly, for a moment. Price gives you a hard look. For the first time in a long time, he isn’t sure what to say. A beat goes by, then two. He finally moves, bringing both your legs down and sitting you upright in front of him, hands in yours.

Price was always good at conveying a lot wordlessly. In the field, when a new recruit fucks up during training. The look he’s giving you now is breaking your heart. Like you bring him the sun in the morning. Like all he’s ever wanted was a moment with you. He’s been doing this a long time, not a lot in his life requires the softness that he gave you freely. You gave him hope. A hope that he could be something after all this. That he could be someone who doesn’t have to carry the world all the time. He’d carry you though. As long as you’d let him.

“You let me decide that. You understand?”

The tears threatening to burst forth subside for the first time today. Something so resolute in his voice makes you feel like you finally have something concrete, something real to latch onto. Maybe a purpose is what you both needed, something you could find in each other.

“Yes sir.” You reply.

He brings one of your hands to his lips, mustache tickling as he kisses it. “That’s my girl. Now come here.”

A surprise laugh rips through you as he snatches you into his arms. You can’t help but try to slap him away and he peppers kisses onto your face. Over your eyes, your nose. He rests his forehead against your cheekbone, smiling against it. “I’ve been showing a lot of restraint, love. You let me know if it gets too much.” You’ve never heard something so sweet sound more like a threat.

A moan brings your attention to the other side of the couch, the only word you could use to describe the scene was progress. Shirts gone, pants unbuckled, hands grabbing. Ghost in all his big, fuck-off glory trailing rough kisses down Soaps chest. Soap, already blissed out, had an eye on you though. Breathlessly, he tossed a look over at Price, “Take care of our girl, Cap.” He said. You were the first to admit that your judgement was compromised to say the least, but you could have sworn you heard an edge in Soaps voice. Eyes fluttering the closer Ghost got to his cock, he still looked at you with a certain intensity. Like he’d be there if any part of Price faltered. Your heart did a flip in your chest before Soaps eyes rolled back completely. We all had our respective objectives today, it seemed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sergeant.” You wish everything would stop happening at the same time. Your shirt, or the crumpled remains of it bunched around your shoulders gets ripped off, hair falling messily into your eyes. You hear a jangle as pants hit the floor and hands are all over you, laying you up and out. Soap and you are positioned head to head on the L-shape of the couch, your respective commanders tending to your… needs. Hair cascading around your head, you lay your hands above you, Soaps fingers tangling gently in yours.

“Suppose we have dear Johnny to thank in the first place, getting our girl out of her shell. Told Simon here he deserved something special, you know.” Price said offhandedly to you, bringing his hips over to your face. “Needed someone to warm you up for me, teamwork and whatnot.” He says as he throws you a wink. Your attention is pulled to what’s in front of you and your laugh dies in your throat. You knew he was big. You’ve caught glimpses in showers, in changing rooms. But you tried, really, you promise, not to outright ogle your captain. In this moment you start to think maybe you should have, it would have prepared you a little better emotionally.

Price’s breathing starts to get a little hitched in his chest. Something about your pretty face, underneath him looking at him like that makes his heart clench. Or maybe his balls, it’s hard to tell. Either way it makes his abs flex and his cock bob up and down. “Sweetheart, I need you,” he tells you, pumping the base. “I’m going to take care of you I promise baby. You gonna take care of your Captain?”

There’s a breathless quality to his voice. And something like liquid fire slips into your stomach. Something slippery and white hot. Seeing the man you’ve leaned on both physically and emotionally, the man you looked up to, got you out of battlefields alive, weak? For you? You look up at Price, big doe eyes taking him all in as you lean his cock gently into your mouth with two fingers. Running your tongue gingerly across the underside, you tease it a little before taking just the head in your mouth and giving it suck. Almost a kiss. You feel his torso shudder as he leans a hand to the back of the couch to support himself, curling over you for a better view.

If you weren’t so focused, you’d laugh at the chorus of moans from the men in the room. Prices eyes slipped closed, Ghosts eyes are locked on you as he has Soap in his own mouth, bobbing up and down in a steady pace. Soap however has you locked in, looking at you almost upside down, fingers clenching in yours as his brows furrow. Mouth agape, he chokes out a moan as he cums down Ghosts throat.

You take Price down further, slowly. As much as you want to tease him, you’ve been waiting just as long as he has. His length and girth are, truly too much, but you make it down, feeling the soft dark curls tickle your nose and cheeks. You wonder if your throat bulges, you’ll have to ask him later. He maintains the pace initially, hand snaking to the back of your head, but relinquishes control once you make it down his length. Your eyes peek open for a moment to see him fully engulfed into your mouth, eyes closed and muttering to you.

“Just as good as I thought you’d be, you’re so fucking good for me. You like me in your throat, baby? Like your Captain fucking your sweet little throat? Fuck.” Your hands sneak up, one running down his torso and feeling hair and corded muscle in your palm, the other one wrapped around one of his thighs. You feel him tense before he groans and pulls out of your mouth slowly. He meets you in the middle, leaning down to you as he pulls you up by your face to crush you in a kiss. The heady taste of his own cock filling his mouth as he deepens. Wanting to drown in you. His hands cradling your face, he drops one to find in between your thighs, rubbing passively around your clit, not quite enough pressure to be satisfying as you wiggle for more contact. He pulls away briefly to slap at your thighs before continuing, a check to obey. The other hand sneaks down and puts a easy pressure around the top of your throat. Not squeezing too hard, but enough to get your attention and keep you aware.

You’ve never seen his eyes so intense, he’d eat you whole if he could. He can’t help but tighten his fingers around your throat for a moment, you’re so fucking delicious. “As much as I want your sweet little mouth I need to feel you, baby. Ugh, I fucking—“ he hitches, bonking his forehead against yours, barely able to contain himself as he closes his eyes. “Tell me what you want love.” He says with a now steady voice. “Tell me how you want me and I’ll do it.”

“Let me make it up to you daddy.” You whisper, throat vibrating his large hand. His eyes shoot back open as the name shoots right to his dick. He desperately tries to remember if the medic talked about his heart at all at his last checkup, it won’t make it at this rate. He lets you go as you get up from the couch, mildly unsteady from all the angles you’ve been in today. His hands never leaving your body, he lets you position him, in a sitting position on the couch, hips forward so he’s at an angle, legs open. You can’t look at him too long like this. Fully splayed open, a lifetimes worth of muscles and scars and hard work displayed on a truly perfect canvas. He starts to pump his cock again, as he returns the look. Whatever you were, flaws and all, would always be exactly what he wanted. He understood why all those guys from the past made their wives into marble statues. He already wants to keep you forever.

You both get mildly distracted as Ghost and Soap quietly exclaim at the same time, now fully nude as Ghost positions him on his knees on the couch, hands warming his ass as he pumps himself from behind. If you see any more fit, perfect men today you are sure you’d die. “Christ, bird. Give John a show for us, he’s been waiting for ya’.” The look Ghost gives is downright sinful and he maintains eye contact as he slips into Johnnys hole. The moan that slips out of his mouth makes your pussy pulse.

Your attention comes back to Price as you crawl into his lap, rubbing your hands over his shoulders before settling around his jaw and hold his head up, hovering over his cock. “I’ve been yours since the first day I met you, John.” Your eyes rake over his features up close, running your thumbs over his lips and cheeks. “I. Feel like I’m right with you. Like I don’t feel so out of balance.” His hands snake around your waist, running his hand down your spine. You drop to his ear, wanting at least one thing just between you and him. “I’ve loved you for a long time, I’m sorry it took so long to say I—“ you get cut off by lips on yours. Not rough, but almost bruising kiss as he explores your body. Like he’s mapping it to memory. He breaks away after what seems like an eternity and whispers into yours “Show me.”

You give him your doe eyes, full of lust as you lean back, putting your hands on his knees and putting yourself on blessed display. You bring one hand between you two as you guide his cock to your entrance. His mouth drops open as he feels the tight wet heat crest the head. His head falls back to the couch as you start working yourself slowly around him, moaning as you go. “Fuck John, you’re so big,” you say breathlessly as you reach the bottom. You rock up and down, getting used to the absolutely full feeling inside and lean fully back onto his knees. You start to undulate your torso and hips ever so slightly, letting him see, showing off how he makes you feel. You close your eyes and moan, “I used to touch myself thinking how you’d feel. Your big fucking hands on me, in me. Fuck, Daddy.”

A growl rips out of him as the hands on your thighs tighten. You’re gonna be the death of him. He steals one of your hands from behind you and brings it to his mouth, licking your pointer and middle, getting them messy. He grabs your wrist and spits roughly on them one last time, and he brings your fingers to your clit.

“Show me, baby.” He commands, his combat voice leaking through. “Show daddy how you want him to touch you.” Your mouth drops open as you pick up the pace, rolling your body and hips up and down his length in earnest, and working your clit in little circles. Your tits shake to the rhythm as he takes you all in, arms spreading across the back of the couch. Your moans find a cadence, little “uh, uh, uh’s” a song in your Captains ears. His jaw tenses, positive he’d break a tooth if he clenched anymore. “I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow. So fuckin’ perfect for me.” He squeezes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your cadence starts to get sloppy in his lap, bouncing almost out of beat, rubbing your clit in quick circles. A whine sits high in your throat as you feel your orgasm build, your soft thighs bouncing on his sturdy lap. “Do you like it, daddy?” You squeak out. “Fuck, does, does it feel good?”

His hands move fast, taking your throat once again in his hands and forcing you to look at him. The other angling your hips on his cock as he finally thrusts back. Putting pressure on you, your eyes water as the light, fuzzy feeling starts to creep into your vision. “My perfect little pussy. Fuck daddy, sweetheart. Soak me, cum on daddy’s dick, come on!”

Static. Light. You feel your chest vibrate and your mouth move but can’t exactly hear as you cum. That wet feeling is back again as you feel it… everywhere. Dripping down your knees, splashing down to your ankles. Breath only comes to you shallowly. You tune in and out to a steady stream of names is being moaned into your ear as hearing returns. “Fucking such a good girl, my little whore, you did so good for me.” Hands pet your hair and warm your sides. You hear another set of strangled moans as Johnny gets louder beside you two. Ghost is fucking him fast and hard from behind, holding Johnny around his chest and keeping him up, both sets of eyes on you and John.

Your body moves on autopilot, delicate hands move off of John as you lift yourself and position yourself on your knees in front of Soap. Your fingers grip his cock, red and weepy with precum and he cries at the contact. So does Ghost, as his cock is being clenched in Soaps ass you figure. You bring your mouth down and take his head in your mouth and he can’t last. Refuses to. He cums, long and deep into your mouth, flexing his chest and almost ripping out of Simon’s arms. Simon finishes as well, hips shaking everyone as Soaps ass milks him for all he’s got. You bring yourself up, swallowing slowly and making sure Johnny sees you lick the remainder off your lips. He rips you forwards, kissing you and tasting himself. You wonder if you both will always taste like cum to each other from now on.

You feel hands rip you backwards and you fall into a big warm chest, bringing your legs up as he slots himself inside you, pussy on display to the others. You crane your neck to look at him, eyes wild, hazy, and he lands a messy kiss on the outside of your mouth, still tasting Johnny on your lips. One hand wraps around your waist as the other starts rubbing your clit in hard tight circles, just like you showed him. He hammers in to you, tits bouncing as you can’t do anything but yell. His thighs and your ass still tacky with your cum. You hold his arm tightly, trying to hold on for dear life as he speaks loudly in your ear, drowning out your moans. “Who’s are you, baby. Look them in the eye and say it.”

Your heart shatters for real this time. Overstimulated. Too many feelings all at once. Too much. Not enough. Everything you’ve always wanted as you moan loudly, “Yours! Ours!” Johnny and Simon look at you, holding each other gently. They both look back on it and say the same thing, it’s like looking into the sun. “That’s right, bird.” “Ours forever, love.”

John fucks into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. His arm now a vice grip around you as you reach your crest again, splashing all over his thighs for a second time, in arcs and droplets all over the couch. “Ours. MINE.” He roars in your ear. He cums, hard inside you, pulses shaking you violently. His cock slips out as he pumps straight into the air, landing on your clit and pussy, making more of a mess as it drips out of your hole.

You weren’t really present for what happened after. Big, warm hands get you through a shower, keep you upright. Dry you off. A rogue hand occasionally playing with your clit before it gets slapped away by the others, chastised gently. “She’s had enough for one day, give her some time!” You find yourself coming back to, naked in a bed much larger than your own, swimming in a soft comforter. Bodies on both sides of you rub and pet you passively, just wanting some contact. You doze off, to kisses in your hairline and a bearded face tickling yours as it whispers in your ear, where no one else can hear.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

[softblesses]

Summer Colds.

In which Neal and Elizabeth suffer, and Peter is there to fix it.

Pretty much another classic sick fic of my favourite hyperfixation rn! Please don’t reblog to non kink/whump blogs. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1.

“You’re sick,” Mozzie stated matter of factly, whilst wandering alongside Neal, in the streets of New York.

“I’m fine.” Neal muttered back, rubbing a knuckle under his nose in an attempt to put a stop to the itch.

“You’re not fine! You never sneeze. Like, ever, so unless you can explain the past ten minutes? I’m staying ten steps away, my friend. Ten. Steps. Away.”

“Mozz, you’re being dramatic. It’s nothing, it’s just —“ Neal stopped walking, bringing his elbow to his face. Mozzie was right, but he was hanging on to the small dregs of hope that this was all random and he wasn’t getting sick after all.

‘Heh’kshu!’ The sneezes told a different story.

“Gesundheit. Now, why don’t we do the sensible thing and double back to June’s instead of breakfast? You can go to bed, I’ll get you some medicine and then I’ll make scarce!” Mozzie took a few steps back towards Neal, rolling his eyes at the sound of his cellphone ringing.

He folded his arms, tapping his foot as he listened to his friend speak. “The suit wants you to work?” He questioned, after Neal hung up.

“Elizabeth’s workplace got robbed,” Neal explained, pocketing the phone. “She’s okay, but Peter wants to investigate. Don’t look at me like that, Moz. It’s just a stuffy nose. It’s probably just… allergies, or something.”

“You don’t get any kind of pollen allergies, wise guy.” Mozzie pointed out. “Let me know if El needs my… expertise. I’ll be at breakfast, while you go and tango with the bureau, Sneezy.”

“Yeah, yeah. See you later, Mozzie.” Neal watched him walk away, checking his watch; Peter would be here to pick him up soon.

After almost ten minutes, Peter was parking by the sidewalk and Neal climbed into the back seat; they were picking up Elizabeth, so he naturally assumed she’d go up front.

“Hey, Neal.” Peter greeted, and it was already obvious he was stressed.

“I’m sure Elizabeth is fine,” Neal replied, buckling his seatbelt.

His handler only sighed, driving off again. “I told her to stay home today,” he continued, without acknowledging Neal’s statement.

“Stay home?”

“Yeah… she’s sick, and she already worked from home for a couple days. I just — well, El thinks I’m being too dramatic. It’s just a cold, but, still.”

Ah. That explains how Neal caught what he has. “You worry a lot,” he confirmed. “But, I’m sure Elizabeth appreciates it. She’ll be okay, and I’m sure she’ll work from home tomorrow.”

There was a long pause, before Peter sighed again. They stopped in traffic, and he took a look in the mirror back at Neal. “Maybe you’re right,” he hummed.

“I’m right? Really?”

“Alright, don’t push it.”

“Are you sure you’re not getting sick?” Neal teased, although unbeknownst to Peter he was the one feeling under the weather; Neal’s throat itched, and so did his ears, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose or he’d sniffle and it would make him sneeze again.

“My immune system is top notch, and you know it.” Peter pointed out. “I’m feeling fine.”

“Even when sleeping with Elizabeth?”

Peter shot him a glare in the mirror, and Neal held up his hands. I meant sleeping as in sharing a bed! That’s a sure fire way to get sick.” He scrunches his nose, trying his best to quell the ever growing itch.

“Huh. And, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” The man jested back, falling quiet as they neared their destination.

Neal rolled his eyes at Peter’s comment, but for lack of energy and realisation that he was about to park the car again, he stayed quiet. Peter told him to stay put, and explained that he wasn’t going in as FBI — Elizabeth had a bunch that the lead thief was one of her colleagues. It was an interesting sounding case, but right now the CI was too focused on holding back a sneeze. And, as soon as Peter had closed his car door and stepped away from it, Neal buried his face into his elbow and inhaled sharply.

‘Hh’sSHhu, k—tch’tcH. Ugh. Shit.’ He sighed, making quick work of blowing his nose into the handkerchief in his pocket, placing it back just in time for Peter to open the door for Elizabeth.

“Honey, I promise, I’m fine — hey, Neal — a little shaken up, I guess, but I feel alright! You worry too much.” Elizabeth huffed a little, waiting for her husband to get in the car beside her. She didn’t sound extremely sick, but Neal could definitely hear the congestion in her voice.

Peter climbed in the car, and leaned across to feel El’s forehead. She didn’t look impressed. “I know, I know. I worry too much! We have to take your statement back at the office, is that okay? I’ll work from home after that.”

Neal’s eyebrows raised a little at that.

“You’re coming too, Neal. You’re not getting out of work that easily.” It was like Peter had read his mind. “We can —“

‘hu’tsh, tch, tshh. . Huh’tcHoo.’

“Bless you,” Peter and Neal rang in sync, whilst the agent continued to rub his wife’s back.

“Sorry,” El apologised softly, pocketing her tissue and leaning back in the seat with a heavy sigh.

“It’s okay, Hon. Neal, I’ll explain everything to you when we get to my place. Let’s get this statement over with so we can all relax.” Peter leaned across to kiss El on the cheek, before starting up the car.

•••

The conference room was dark, with the shutters closed and the lights turned off. It was like a welcoming blanket of calm, and immediately Neal felt the ache in his head dissipate a little. He quietly closed the door, glancing over at El, who was sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone, on low brightness mode.

“Neal,” she greeted softly. “Everything okay?”

“Peter sent me to check on you,” it was only a tiny, white lie. “And, I’d much rather sit in here with you. Peter gets grumpy when he’s worried.” Neal muttered, wandering in and closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth watched him for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Really? No other reason?” She questioned, still watching him.

“No other reasons.” Neal took a seat in one of the spinning chairs by the conference room table, and rubbed his eyes. They were almost as itchy as everything else; his nose itched, his ears felt stuffy as well as itchy. . . He was starting to feel worse, and if anyone was going to figure him out, it was Elizabeth Burke.

“Neal, are you okay? You’ve been acting off since we were in the car.” Elizabeth pressed on, and Neal sighed in semi-defeat.

“If I told you I had a headache, would you stop asking?” Neal muttered, trying not to sound agitated, and somewhat failing.

There was a pause, and El coughed slightly. “No. Does your throat hurt?” She continued, and Neal spun a little in his chair.

“Maybe.”

“Stuffy nose?”

“A little.”

“So, you’re sick. I knew it.” Elizabeth muttered.

“Which means, this is my fault,” she concluded next. “I’m sorry, Neal.”

He shook his head, reaching into his pocket for the silk handkerchief he’d been hiding away. He rubbed at his nose, and sniffled; revealing the oncoming congestion he’d been trying so hard to cover up for the past couple of hours. “It’s not your fault,” Neal finally spoke, pocketing the handkerchief.

“Know anyone else with a summer cold?” El quipped back, and he could imagine the look she was currently giving him.

With a heavy sigh, Neal leaned to rest his head against his arms, on the tabletop in front of him. “Elizabeth B — wait, what’s your middle name?” Neal asked, sitting up again and squinting over at her.

“Why?”

“Just.. humour me, just for a second.”

“It’s Laura.”

Neal inhaled, and stood up. “Elizabeth Laura Burke, why are you so irritatingly observant?” He exhaled, sniffling afterwards.

A laugh fell from her lips at that, which proceeded into a cough covered by a fist. “Marrying an FBI agent might have had something to do with it,” she smiled, patting the space next to her. “Neal George Caffrey, you know it’s alright to let your guard down here, hmm?” El’s voice softened, watching him as he sat.

He shifted slightly, and El could tell that he was uncomfortable. Although, the eventual albeit very quiet “I know,” was comforting. “That’s why I told you so easily.” Neal murmured, leaning back against the couch with a shiver.

“And, because whatever meds you dosed up with this morning are starting to wear off?” Elizabeth teased, gently reaching to feel his forehead. A little warm, but nothing alarming.

“Stop being right.” Neal grumbled, before quickly leaning away and burying his face into the crook of his arm.

‘Hu—ngxT. . . HheisHhhoo—ugh.”

“Bless you,” Elizabeth murmured, rummaging around in her purse for a new packet of tissues, and gently nudging him before offering them out.

Neal practically whined, taking a moment to use one of the tissues, before leaning back against the couch with another little shiver. Elizabeth frowned, about to suggest asking Peter to take them home sooner, when the glass door behind them opened.

“Sorry that took so long,” Peter’s voice announced. “Ready to go?”

The CI’s demeanour was quick to change — he sat up straight, cleared his throat and plastered on a signature Neal Caffrey smile in greeting. “Am I still coming?” He questioned nonchalantly, scrunching his nose and trying his absolute best not to sniffle again.

“Yep,” Peter responded. “We’re working from home today. Which means better coffee and some proper rest for El.” He offered out his hand for his wife, who stood and wandered towards him. She took a glance back at Neal, that was wordlessly saying ‘are you going to tell him, or am I?’ But, the CI simply followed behind them, shaking off whatever discomfort he was currently feeling for now.

Seconds after leaving the comfort of the dark room behind them, both Elizabeth and Neal squinted at the harsh lighting that illuminated the bullpen. Barely seconds later, the pair both paused and comedically in sync sneezes caused Peter to stop in his tracks and turn. “Bless y—whoever just sneezed.” He frowned, watching his wife continue to do so, and Neal turn around to put his back to him.

‘Hhh—ngxXt.’ The CI spun back around, sniffling desperately, and faced with a quizzical look from Peter.

“What, you’re sick too, now?” He questioned, folding his arms.

Neal shook his head. “The lights are too bright, Peter. You should really get someone to — snf — fix that.” He straightened himself up, and glanced sideways at El, who didn’t seem all that pleased with the holdup.

“Right,” Peter muttered, gesturing for the pair to follow him again.

“You wouldn’t understand. Having striking blue eyes isn’t all fun and games,” Neal continued, ignoring the look he got from Elizabeth beside him. He didn’t want to tell Peter he felt lousy, not yet. It was awkward, and he wasn’t used to being so open about vulnerability… besides, he just needed some more meds and he’d be fine to work the case.

On the elevator ride back down, El wrapped her arms around Peter and rested her head against his chest. It was obvious that her meds were wearing off too, although all Neal could do was uncomfortably shift on his feet until they reached the parking garage. He shivered, rubbing his eyes again, and followed Peter and El to the car in silence. Even when sitting in the back, he was uncharacteristically quiet, and at this point Peter wasn’t very convinced that his excuses earlier were true… because, a quiet Neal Caffrey was always something to be suspicious of.

When they got back, El told Neal to wait upstairs and she’d find him something comfortable to wear. Peter waited until the CI was out of earshot, before turning to his wife with a questioning expression. He led her into the living room, bringing her into his arms and waiting a moment before speaking.

“El,” he began. “What’s wrong with Neal?” He figured that if Neal was going to tell anyone, it would probably be El.

His wife faltered, looking up at him with a slightly guilty look. “Why would he tell me?” She replied, resting her head back against Peter’s chest with a congested sigh.

“Because you’re Elizabeth Burke — kind, soft, warm and caring. I can imagine Neal would talk to you, given the right circumstances… you were alone, maybe his guard was down.”

“Well, I kinda guessed. He eventually told the truth.” Elizabeth admitted. “I feel awful about it. I didn’t want to get anyone sick.”

Peter pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Speaking of awful, how are you feeling now?” He asked, leaning back to look at her.

“A little less than awful.”

“But, not great?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “D’you still need me to help with anything in the case?” She asked quietly.

“All I need for you to do is go and change into something comfortable and lie down. We can talk work later, once you’ve rested. I’ll come check on you in a half hour… I guess I should check on Neal too, huh?”

“I’ll check on him before I go to bed. I love you.”

[sxcret-garden]

Ateez Reaction ღ Asking them to teach you how to fuck [M]

ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction (best friend!Ateez x inexperienced reader), (implied) friends to fwb/friends to lovers in one part ღ warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

Author’s note: This is definitely not what I had planned to write today but oh well :’) I hope you guys enjoy~

Edit: This is labelled as having a fem-bodied!reader, but Yeosang's, San's, Mingi's and Jongho's parts also work with a gn!reader (I changed the wording slightly for two of those parts to make them gn, cause the original versions weren't very far away from that) - Yunho's part is technically gn too, but i think one line of it makes no sense if reader is imagined to be male bodied!

Hongjoong:

when one day you somewhat shyly ask him if he would teach you how to please a guy he’s definitely surprised

but it’s also not like he sees a problem with friends hooking up? i mean - y’all know each other well and trust each other, so having sex shouldn’t be an issue

teaches you everything you wanted to know and then some more, until suddenly you can barely even remember that other guy who made you feel like you needed to practice so much anymore

he’ll be gentle with you, seeing how you don’t have much experience yet, and somehow he’ll end up pleasuring you first to help you relax

only when you’re about to cum on his fingers does he stop for a second to consider whether it’s really okay to go this far with you

but you’re enjoying yourself, and now you’re whining for him to keep going, so that’s what he does

makes you cum and then lets you rest for a bit, before he starts guiding your hands down his body

praises you for everything you do and gently nudges you in the right direction, until you have him cumming into your fist - but he won’t stop there

there’s just something insanely hot to him about having full control over what you do to him as he gives you instructions, and this is definitely also awakening some kind of corruption kink deep inside him

eventually you end up on top of him as he guides you down his cock and into a steady rhythm, having you ride him

and of course this becomes a regular thing between the two of you, both keeping up the pretense that you’re still just “practicing”, when really there’s a carnal need growing inside both of you that makes you always come back to each other for more

Seonghwa:

the first time you bring it up to him that you’ve been wondering if he could help you practice having sex he feels conflicted to say the least

of course he wants to help you!! but this is about having sex with one of his best friends, and he doesn’t know if he wants to cross that line with you

but at the same time it’s also apparent that your question is affecting him when you can see his ears turn red, and eventually he has to get out of there for a second to get himself a glass of water sakdfjlks

“So is that a yes?” you ask him when he comes back, and he almost spits the water back out aksdljfkjsd

“I-I’ll have to think about it, Y/N…” he somehow manages to stutter, before he forcibly changes topic

he needs a few days to calm down about this, but once some time has passed he figures it’s probably not a big issue if he helped you out a bit, right?

you agree on a few rules like no kissing, no actual intercourse, but he’s willing to let you touch him otherwise

and so you decide to start slow, with a simple handjob, and he actually finds himself enjoying the way he can tell you what to do, gently push you in the right direction, plus the sight of having your hands wrapped around his cock just does something very sinful to him - so it’s no surprise that you don’t have any trouble making him cum

but now he feels the need to pay you back, and so you let him finger you, and his skillful touches throw you over the edge in no time

you do this a few times, until eventually you find yourselves growing more needy, and you end up sucking him off while he eats you out, quietly turning it into a game of who can make the other cum faster in your mind

needless to say, now that you started casually hooking up you won’t be stopping anytime soon

Yunho:

he is SOSO flustered when you first ask him about whether he could teach you a bit about sex the first time and immediately says no aksjdklfsk

“Y/N, we’re just friends… shouldn’t you do that with an actual boyfriend?”

but you insist, admitting that you feel embarrassed about how inexperienced you are, and of course this guy reassures you that you’re fine the way you are, and once the right guy comes along he will surely be understanding with you

and as much as you want to believe his words, your insecurities prevail, until eventually you find an agreement that you can at least come ask him about stuff if you feel unsure about something so he could give you a verbal explanation

and you take him up on that offer pretty soon, simply because you’re curious kasjflkasdj

so when one day you ask him out of the blue whether guys prefer getting handjobs or blowjobs he’s a blushing mess first of all

“W-well, it depends on the guy…?” - so you ask him what he prefers and now he’s visibly uncomfortable

but he figures you’re just curious, so he tells you about how both is nice, it really depends on his mood, but he probably prefers a simple handjob most of the time

he loosens up a bit eventually, and as you continue talking about the topic and you ask him all kinds of questions, neither of you can deny that it’s affecting you

except nothing really happens afterwards, because you know he wouldn’t want to overstep that boundary

it’s only until a little later, when you’re both drunk at a party and he suddenly pulls you aside to tell you that he hasn’t been able to think about anything but what it would be like to have sex with you

and well, you pressing your body up against his does nothing to deflate that situation, and so you disappear in the nearest room where it’s just the two of you, and in no time clothes are flying off and your hands are all over each other

but despite the desperation that the both of you are feeling, he’s still careful with you, taking the lead as you spend the rest of the night fucking in that room

Yeosang:

he has no idea how to react when you ask him to teach you how to fuck, so it’s just awkward silence for a few moments

until he offers to treat you to a few hours with a sex worker instead ksajdflkjs

and well, that’s not exactly what you had in mind, because the point of you asking him was that he’s someone who’s known you for a long time and who knows you well

“Ahhh, I see… then sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be, but no.” (why does he have to say it so dramatically fksdjkfas)

you’re of course a bit disappointed, but it’s not like you don’t understand him - not everyone would want to cross that line with a friend - so you leave it at that for now

until one evening you’re together at your place, and you can tell something’s off about him - he seems fidgety and like he’s anxious about something, so eventually you decide to ask what’s up

and he doesn’t really want to give you an answer at first, but eventually he manages to force out an explanation

“Just… what you said to me a few days ago… I thought about it again… and maybe we can try it after all?” - you two talk a lot so it takes you a while to understand what he’s hinting at, but once you do, you’re immediately by his side

you reach for his hand as you’re sitting side by side, and somehow both your nerves are making it hard to do anything

“S-so… how do we start? Do we kiss?” he asks, and you agree that that might be a good idea, and weirdly enough as soon as your lips meet his and you fall into an unhurried pace, both your anxieties seem to be washed away

you get into his lap, and somehow you both just end up following your instincts, only breaking the kiss to tell each other what feels good, and then eventually in order to moan at the way you dry humping him is about to get the both of you off

you’re taking this very slow, but it becomes a regular thing for you to meet up in order to have sex from then on, both exploring and learning about each other’s body as you go

San:

another one who feels very conflicted the first time you bring it up to him

he doesn’t think mere friends should be doing this kind of thing with each other, but at the same time he can’t say he isn’t tempted

he says no at first, but the days after he just can’t stop thinking about you naked, on top of him, underneath him, you name it

until these thoughts start to haunt him in his dreams too, and he knows he can’t possibly be normal around you anymore if he doesn’t do anything about this

so he decides to help you out after all, under the premise that you won’t have any actual intercourse

instead, he teaches you how he likes to be touched with hands only, and eventually he also lets you suck him off

tells you exactly what to do that would drive any guy insane, gives you advice in between moans and at some point he will start rambling, until his high is coming so close that his train of thought just cuts off

and once he sees the state he put you in after cumming in your mouth - your glazed over eyes, his seed dripping down your lips before you lick it all up and swallow - he just can’t help himself anymore

“Shit, Y/N, let me fuck you, please,” he mutters, desperation in his voice

and as soon as you give him the okay this guy will be all over you, being rougher than you’d have expected him to be, fucking you as he’s led only by his instincts and his need to feel the warmth of being inside you

Mingi:

he’s another one who isn’t opposed to having sex with a good friend

actually, he feels a weird sense of relief when you ask him if you could practice with him, because he feels very comfortable with you and so he knows he too will be able to let go quickly

you start slow anyway, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you - seeing how you don’t have much experience yet - and so he’s even more surprised when you reach for his dick pretty quickly

you ask if what you’re doing is good, and as you’re giving him a few strokes this guy is hard in no time

will put his hand onto yours to guide you into the pace he likes, but very soon he’ll simply leave it up to you, wanting to know exactly what you would do to him if he doesn’t interfere

and soon enough his sanity will start to slip away, and when he starts bucking his hips into your hand the dynamic shifts ever so slightly, because suddenly you don’t seem so inexperienced anymore at all as you dare to tease him about how needy he is

lets you make him cum onto his stomach, before you call it quits for the day, but you’ll be sure to come back for more soon

he’ll let you get him off in all kinds of ways, until eventually you two start experimenting with anything and everything you’re curious about, all under the premise of “practice”

and soon he too will feel the need to return the favour and get you off too, learning all about how your body reacts to his touch, and figuring out together what feels best for you

you’re gonna spend whole weekends at his place just fucking, and in no time you basically know each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand

and it’s more than likely that in the process this guy actually falls in love with you, and even though it’s still a whiiiile until he actually finds the courage to tell you that, he will make damn sure you won’t even think about wandering off to someone else

“You’re mine, Y/N,” - the words will repeatedly slip past his lips as he’s fucking you, and surely enough they do something to you too

Wooyoung:

you two tend to be very touchy to begin with - even though you’re definitely not in love he gives you kisses on the cheeks or your neck all the time, and when you’re having a sleepover you can be sure it will include a good amount of cuddling

so when one day he’s spooning you, focused on drawing random patterns on the skin on your arm, and you tell him that you’ve been thinking whether he would be okay with showing you how to properly please a guy he isn’t put off by the idea at all - though he is a little surprised, both because he was of the impression you had a lot more experience than you do, and because he didn’t think you’d ever consider him the right person to come to with a favour like this (like????? who else would be a better person??????)

and this guy is so gentle and respectful with you - he’ll ask exactly what you want him to show you, what you want him to do, will ask before whatever he does whether you’re okay with it or not,...

you just end up having really sweet sex as you help each other out of your clothes and you both get a little distracted worshipping each other’s body

there will be a lot of giggling as you slowly figure out what the other likes and what not, until you end up flat on your back, with his head between your legs, and suddenly all that light-hearted curiousity turns into a deep passion

he eats you out and makes you cum on his tongue multiple times, eager to please you and to see how many more of those sinful moans and whimpers he can draw out of you

until finally you grab him by the hair and pull him away so he would give you a break to catch your breath and to remind him that he was supposed to teach you how to do this stuff

“You asked me how to please a guy,” he replies. “This is how you please this guy right here.” - at this point he is absolutely pussy drunk, there’s no going back for him

will offer to get you off every single time you have a sleepover from now on (and mysteriously the amount of sleepovers you have is suddenly increasing drastically), but he will also exert some amount of self control beforehand and let you get him off too, before he makes you feel good

Jongho:

the first time you very awkwardly hint at him that you’ve been wondering if he’d be willing to teach you how to fuck he simply laughs

until he realizes you weren’t joking

panics internally as all the times he’s gotten off while thinking of you flash him by and he somehow manages to tell you that you’re just friends and you should really reconsider this!!!

he never actually gives you a proper answer on that day, and neither of you bring it up until like two weeks later

you’re both chilling with your phones in your hands, having made yourselves comfortable on his bed as you often do when you’re at his place, when he suddenly speaks up

“So… do you still want me to… teach you a few things?” he asks, not taking his eyes off his phone, and you can feel the nervousness radiating off of him - but as soon as you say yes that mood instantly gets replaced with confidence

“Then come here.” - he goes slow to figure out what you’re okay with and what not, but when you throw your arms around him once he starts scattering kisses in your neck as he hovers above you, he knows he can’t hold back anymore

gets you off with his hand first, before he guides yours to his cock and shows you exactly how he wants you to return the favour

“Wanna go all the way? Cause I’ve been thinking about this…” he admits, and when you say yes he doesn’t spare you any details

tells you about what he wants to do to you, and lets you decide which of his fantasies you want to recreate, until you end up in all kinds of positions, having him fucking one orgasm after the other out of you, until it becomes clear you’re getting tired and you really can’t take any more

you’re both very awkward after this, to the point you act weird around each other even in front of your other friends, who start wondering whether you had a fight

but as things calm down between the two of you, you meet up again at his place

you decided prior to that that what happened several days ago was a one time thing, and you wouldn’t do it again

or so you thought, because as soon as you find yourselves side by side on his bed again, neither of you can deny that the only thing you’re thinking about is continuing where you had left off last time

[saturngalore]

afrofuturism🪐

☆ one ~ solange hair by darknightt (tsr warning) ☆ two ~ loretta hair by @simtric ☆ three ~ bahati braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ four ~ isonoe hair by octetsica ☆ five ~ binah braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ six ~ cornrows & curls hair by @leeleesims1 ☆ seven ~ indie hair by @sashima ☆ eight ~ loc petals by @shespeakssimlish ☆ nine ~ mnemosyne hair by octetsica ☆

mini dedication essay to black simmers and ts4 creators below! pls read if you have the chance! <3

this edit is a small homage to afrofuturism and the various unique black hairstyles (and especially the black creators of most of these hairs) that i have downloaded and admired over the years! some of these are old and some of these are new.

to me, afrofuturism means constantly honoring/reclaiming/challenging the past while constantly creating/dreaming of a better society/world/future. a society/world/future that embraces and empowers all of our differences, ingenuity, aspirations, and unique lived/cultural experiences. a society/world/future that does not limit us through the various systems of marginalization and oppression (racism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, classism, colorism, etc.) that often affects how we, as black people, live today.

blackness is so diverse and intricate yet it's always been a struggle to find my culture within a game that's known for being so limiting, bland, and extremely eurocentric when it comes to hairstyles, clothing, food traditions/events, etc. black simmers have always had to figure out how to make this game more inclusive and make it resemble either more like how our ancestors lived, how our current lives are, or how we would want our lives (and even our children's lives) to look like in the future no matter how dystopian the real world look and feel now. fortunately, these hairs and their uniqueness bring a huge sense of culture and style to this game. they have always inspired me and made me feel extremely proud to a part of the lovely african diaspora (and the ever-growing black simmer community).

in a way, being a black simmer and cc creator usually means that we are often digitally creating our own worlds as afrofuturists to varying degrees (whether we know it or not) every time we open our game, make our sims, make houses, and/or make black cultural cc. also, now i know that cc making is not easy to do and is extremely time-consuming so this post is also just me giving all black cc creators especially those who create for free their well-deserved flowers! here are some other black cc creators who created cc that have greatly impacted my game since i first started playing sims 4: @/leeleesims1 @/simtric @/hi-land @/yuyulie @/sims4bradshaw @/ebonixsims @/xmiramira @/sheabuttyr @/qwertysims @/oplerims @/sleepingsims @/shespeakssimlish and so many more im forgetting probably (im too shy rn to tag ppl but i greatly appreciate y’all fr i hope y’all telepathically get this message somehow 😭).

last but not least, i am hoping that this inspires somebody to keep creating or start creating regardless of what they think their skill level is! somebody will absolutely fall in love with your work and/or your art/work will 100% change someone's game forever <333

[heavensgxte]

Besieged part II

part one

tw - noncon, forced marriage, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, blowjobs, naoya being naoya and being an asshole. naoyas shitty excuse of foreplay. not beta read

wc- 2.1k

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.

a/n- hey…how y’all doin. don’t hate me for posting this over two years later lolol i honestly didn’t think i’d ever get back to this but. i have had been on a writing kick lately. i hope my skills haven’t completely disappeared. thank you for all the love for part one.

You wake up the next morning, covered in dry cum. You feel its presence still very much so stuffed into your cunt. You also feel a warm body draped over yours, looking over at the table you do see a glass of water. You also feel a flaccid cock you must have been warming all night long.

Did he really fuck you until he passed out? You reason he probably did. You look towards the window to find the sun just beginning to rise, not being able to stop the few tears that escape your eyes, a true moment to yourself, sort of. For the last week, the weight of your situation settles, is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?

Eventually, you reckon you had silently cried yourself back to sleep. It was the fact that when you had come to again, your now husband wasn't sprawled out on top of you. But a maid with a worried look on her face gently tapping you awake. Telling you it was time to change the bedding, her skittish voice starting to pull away the curtains of grogginess out of your system.

You make sure to give her a warm smile, nodding and giving a soft thank you. Making a mental note to treat the staff nicely, showing them you are nothing like that vile man you have been legally bound to.

The maid turns away to give you privacy as you move your sore body to plant your feet on the cold floor. Seeing a note laying on your bedside table, picking it up you read it over. “I will be attending my own duties until mid-day, don’t bother me, I shall come find you when I deem it is time. Don’t miss me too much <3” You scoff crumpling the note and tossing it where you found it.

Shivering you pull on the robe nearby, letting the soft fabric hug your frame, giving another smile to the maid, you make your way to the washroom and out of her way. You spot the shower and take a better look at the elegant room. The ofuro and shower separated, traditional yet modern touches adjourning the room. Both bathing options are definitely big enough for two, you mentally note that he had done that on purpose. Looking between the two options, a soak in the ofuro seemed more tempting, something to soothe your aching body from the rough treatment you had taken last night.

Taking a good look in the mirror as you begin to fill up the bath, your eyes widen at the state of your body. Darkened marks adorn your neck and chest, accompanied by bite and scratch marks decorating your thighs and waist. Is he even human? You surely don’t remember the sex being this animalistic, but your fucked out brain probably drifted off after your second or third orgasm you presume.

Hopefully he isn’t this insatiable every night. The thought sends shivers down your spine, keeping yourself distracted by adding salts and herbs you had found sitting out into the steaming water.

Carefully stepping in and letting the warmth consume you, you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting daydreams run through your weary head as you lean it against the edge of the appliance. Near dissociation when.

The brash opening of the door rips you out of your thoughts, you hear his footsteps before you see him round the corner quickly. Ripping you out of your dream-like state, sending your nervous system into fight or flight mode, a shrill gasp emitting from you.

“Ah ha there you are. I was wondering if you were going to wake up or not before the sun went down.” Naoya says as if it was a matter of fact. Cat like eyes trying to peer beneath. “I was looking all over for my little wife.” The man poses with a faux stretch. “I got done with my duties early, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of the evening playing with my new toy.” He begins to shed his daily attire.

Sighing, but not quite in defeat you close your eyes and begin to mutter “well excuse me for trying to take even a bath by my-”

Before you could even finish the sentence, you heard it before you felt it. A smack resounding in the room before your hand flies to your face to soothe the stinging pain. Shocked with wide eyes you avert your profile to him.

You are met with a stern look to his amber eyes, face unreadable. “I will tolerate little from you. I knew choosing you there would be some pushback, a stubborn woman such as yourself. However,  you are smart enough to know and follow expectations regarding being my wife. I do not tolerate back talk. The rumors surrounding my clan are indeed true. We expect traditional wives. You will be absolutely no different.”

Flabbergasted you cannot control your rising emotions as they burst through the seams. “Expectations?! Guidelines?! I didn’t even want this!” No, you will not cry. Not in front of him.

A strong hand grips your face, a force even pulling you from the ofuro. “This. Isn’t. About. You.” Venom laced in his words as he shook your head back and forth. “I don’t care what you want. Surprise wife! You are here for me and me alone. That is your purpose in your pathetic life. Serve me. Warm my bed. Be my personal fuckhole. And bare me an heir. Speaking of fuckholes….” Naoya mumbles. Fumbling around with the cloth on his body. Slipping all of it off, the light illuminating off of his body, accentuated by the steam.

You’d be lying to yourself as to say he did not have a nice body. He did, and a nice cock, 7 and a half inches or so with decent girth and a perfect curve. You would know, the entire night the damn thing was inside of you, you are now very much so used to it.

To add on to his earlier statement, you are being gripped by the nape of the neck, Naoya standing on the stool you use to step into the tub, but he’s not stepping on.

“Open that whore mouth my dear beloved.” How can someone’s words be so venomous yet patronizing?

Taking a moment to process you don’t even see his hand come down to pinch your left nipple, the gasp parting your lips is all he needs to shove it in between your parted lips. Going slow and taking your time is not your dear husband's forte, obviously. As he is instantly gripping the sides of your slippery cheeks and moving his hips to fuck his cock farther and farther down your throat. Your gags, and spluttering echo to and fro through the bathroom, along with the sound of his balls, slapping your chin, pulsing with the need for release.

Though the man above you is groaning, face scrunched up in concentration and pleasure. He protests a moment. “No, no no, fuck, no, need your cunt. Gimme…” Naoya begins to mumble, pulling you up by your arm from the ofuro. “Bend over the edge, yeah, yeah just like that.”

You know it’s futile to argue, and you can’t deny, that he does feel good, is that why your body is betraying you when you arch yourself over the edge of the bathroom appliance? Why you don’t kick and scream when you feel him spread your cheeks to get an adequate view of your cunt glistening with bath water, slightly covered in suds from your attempt of relaxation? Is it that deep down you know that submitting to him is your best option right now? Can you really do this for the rest of your life? In such a compromising position, your thoughts run wild.

All thoughts stop racing through your mind when you feel the head of his cock push in through your tight hole. Shaky trembling hands gripping your hips tightly. Naoya’s head is also whirring in pleasure, just like yours.

“Fuck fuck it’s just as tight as last night.” A sigh emits his mouth. As if his cock in your pussy could melt all his stresses and worries away. Fuck. Is all that he can formulate. Using his hands to bring you back and forth on his erection. A moan threatens to emit from your mouth before you cover it with your hand, no you cannot give him that satisfaction. Biting down on your hand for some semblance of control.

A semi cold hand finds its way to your warm slick breast, a hardy squeeze as he brings up his tempo. “Y-yeah” he groans. “Take it, like you’re meant to. All you’ll ever be good for anyways.” Naoya growls, speeding up his thrusts. Biting down on your shoulder. Angling his hips to hit deep inside your cunt over and over your G-spot. You swear you can feel him in your chest at this point.

Your hand falls to the edge of the tub squeezing the edge in an attempt to ground yourself from the new found angle. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of his use of your body as his own personal fuck-hole, that he could make you cum from the treatment as well.

“Fu- shit. You’re milking me you bitch!” His teeth detach from your shoulder, his hand gathering at the crown of your head to hold onto your hair and bring his body towards him. “Look at me.” The blond demands. Pace never falters. “A fucking mess from a little fucking.” He hisses. “Who owns you?”

As if he can talk, he’s practically panting and drooling like an animal in heat. The latter question sparks a flood of defiance in you, moving your head side to side.

“Tell me who you belong to if you wanna cum. Otherwise, you can just suck me off and I'll finish all over that pretty face. I don’t fucking care.”

You jolt in surprise as you feel his hand on your clit, lithe fingers swirling the bud. Teasingly coming and going each time you tighten around him. The itch that needs to be scratched is becoming a far bigger problem. Your inhibitions going out the window.

I mean, it's four words, it can't hurt right? Just this once you reason.

“I belong to…” You muster the reward of Naoya’s fingers rubbing your bundle slightly faster. The sounds of your moans and his hips slapping yours echoing in the bathroom.

“G-go on I can’t hold out much longer, stupid cunt feels too good.”

“I-I Belong to y-you! Na-Naoya!” You finally snap at the same time your husband increases the pace of both his fingers and thrusts. Your cunt squeezing him so tight he can barely pull out to go back in, your release exiting out of your spent pussy, splashing on Naoya’s pelvis.

“Too tight, too tight SHIT!” The man curses, pushing himself practically against your womb as you hear him growl, squeezing your body to him so tightly not even paper could come between.

You feel the final twitch as you come down from your high. Warm spurts of cum filling you to the brim.

Naoya pulls out slightly wincing as his spent cock falls out. Mesmerized seeing his pearly cum in your thoroughly abused pussy. Two fingers wasting no time to push it deeper. “I-it has to take. You need to be knocked up.” He pants, as you turn your head worried eyes widening. “Need to make sure you can’t leave. Even if you tried.” The latter part of the sentence comes out more dark as the former.

As you sit and lament over what just happened. Naoya steps beside you to drain the tub, leaving half the water before he fills it again with warm water. You look at him quizzically, he pays no mind, checking the water. Adding some salt and soap to the bath.  Before lifting you up and setting you in without a word. “I have one more errand to attend to.” He exclaims redressing himself. “I will be eating dinner with you. Your husband says before leaving the bathroom. Not waiting for a response from you.

Shock leaves your system. Did he just… Do something nice for you? You won’t say it’s the best aftercare, but honestly you thought he was just going to leave you on the cold tiled floor. Warmth creeps up to your heart at the gesture. You shake your head, scolding yourself. You cannot fall for crumbs. Never for him, anyone but him.

You can figure something out, you reason. Find a way to leave and keep your family safe at the same time. Change your names, move out of the country, something! You cannot stay here, if you don’t leave now. You will be stuck under his heel forever.

[ghettogirly]

how do you think armando would react if y’all had the most passionate sex and you left in the middle of the night, acted like nothing had happened at work

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

-> synopsis. you and armando had the best night, yet, why do you still choose to pretend to not feel the same?

-> pairing: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐂 “𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀“

-> warning: heavy smut, slight dumbification, mix of bodily fluids, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), angst, mature language, Selena is really annoying, Minors DNI.

-> authors note: thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! this is probably my proudest work yet. If anyone wants to be apart of my taglist, comment below.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: Screwin - Summer Walker ft. Omarion.

[🕷️]

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 and red roses slowly glided off the duvet as he moves up and down, matching the male’s thrusts into the helpless girl beneath. Triads of gasps and moans filled the room as the two made love, slaps echoed throughout while the two lovers’ skin connected with each other.

The connections created a white ring around the latino’s cock, caused by the mix of juices between the woman and him. Selena’s back arched as she gripped on the man’s broad shoulders, giving him small, red scratches that would probably lift up by tomorrow.

“Fuck… just like that.” She breathed, running his hands through his hair as he continued to thrust into her.

“You like that?”

Selena doesn’t even have time to answer, the man diving into her neck. Kissing her soft, melanated skin while he leaves a trail of burgundy marks. He quickens his pace, pushing his whole length inside of her, bottoming her out causing her to whine out in pleasure and a little bit of pain. “Ohhh, fuck!”

“You’re taking me so well baby..”

He laughed at your whining, enjoying seeing you lose yourself further and further for him, seeing yourself get frustrated. “You’re so fucking wet..” biting her earlobe ever so gently as he speeds up his pace. His cock pistoning in and out of you cashing him to grunt, losing the ability to control himself more and more.

“Oh fuck baby, please please please..” Selena babbles, the pleasure now being the only feeling there as it clouds her mind. This being the only thing now controlling her cognition and behaviour.

“Agárrate por mí, nena, ya casi estoy ahí..”

“I can’t, i can’t!”

A random act stops her continuous period of babbling, feeling something enter her mouth. It was his thumb, he quickly pulled it out, it making a small ‘Pop!’ sound while a string of saliva comes with it. Dropping on the woman’s exposed torso. Too blinded by the pleasure going on within her, she fails to recognise what he’s just done, until she feels it.

Wet trails of just saliva lead from the top of her vagina to the clit as he slowly presses on it and starts running gently. Armando wraps his one arm around your shoulders as he now continues to pound into the hispanic woman while circling her clit, sending shockwaves through her body due to the temperature play demonstrated by the man. The hot sensation of your clit contrasts with the cool temperature of your man’s thumb, causing them little hairs on your body to stand up, generating goosebumps. Selena’s jet black hair sticks to the pillow as the sweat generating from her head creates a glue type consistency onto the silk pillow behind her.

Her eyes roll back and she stops clawing on the males back, instead throwing her arms to the sides of her. The emotions of arousal causing her to submit to them being too much for the poor girl. Pulsating on the latino’s dick, her lips part. “I can’t wait, i need to..”

The man looks into her eyes. Her heterochromatic eyes stare right back at him. A connection of lust, passion, and weirdly enough, love. Leaning forward, Armando embraces her into a kiss, roughly attacking her lips like a wild animal chasing its prey. Not getting enough of her taste. The woman engages with it just as hard, seeming as if though, she does not want to let him go either. His thrusts become more erratic, clearly reaching his climax too.

“Let’s do it together baby, i’m going to cum in you so fucking bad. i need to-“

“Oh fuck!!”

Without warning, a rush of pleasure cascades down the light-skinned girl, causing her toes to curl as she releases all her juices on him. The woman’s orgasm elicited a sense of relief from the latinx male as he too begins to move faster, his skin slapping against hers before releasing his load into her. His pace begins to slow down, his hips still jolting but dying down ever so slightly. “te sientes tan bien nena..” Armando whispered to the exhausted woman below.

“I fucking love you.”

[🕷️]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 3 am in the morning. Selena looked to the left of her and saw a muscular arm over her stomach with the caramel toned male, nuzzling into her neck. His expression was unreadable but he seemed to be at peace with the slow, shallow breathing he did. Finally having a good nights sleep, the first in a while.

Still, even with the comfort of the man lying next to her, she felt ashamed to be here. Or yet, embarrassed. She slept with her boss’s son again. Only supposed to be a one time thing, yet, she foolishly agreed to be friends with benefits. However now, her feelings were involved. She was confused on what to do..

Sighing, she slowly removed his arm before throwing a shirt over her. Selena began to collect her things, guilt washing over her face as she looked back at the male.

He was still sleeping, his pink lips slightly parted as he begins to exhale out of his mouth too.

“I knew i shouldn’t have done this..” The woman whispered to herself, holding the silver crusted pendant that was hanging off her neck, the one Armando got her. Sadness began to creep down her as she basked in her thoughts, negative thoughts at that. “You’re leading him on, he deserves for you to tell him straight up.”

But, how was she leading him on if she loved him too?

How does she love him, if one day she pretends she hates him?

How do you love him if you feel like you’ve sinned after making love?

A deep voice suddenly breaks her train of thought as she hears a ruffle of sheets on the bed and someone clearing their throat. “What are you doing mamí..?”

Selena looks at him with regret filling her eyes, the brown iris now illuminating as the male turns on the lamp next to him.

“Armando..”

“¿De verdad estás huyendo de nuevo?”

“I am not running away. Don’t fucking insult me like that. We haven’t even established what we are, are we lovers, friends with benefits or am i just a girl you use whenever you’re bored!”

“I just fucking said i love you, dejar de tratar de jugar a la víctima. To think that the first time you did this i thought you was overwhelmed because of how sudden it was.”

“You could’ve just said that in the moment-“

“SHUT UP!” Anger boomed from his voice as he shouted, knocking the lamp over in the process as he looked at you with rage but love in his eyes. “Do not try and manipulate me just because you are confused with what you want.”

That silenced her. At a loss for words, she didn’t even bother saying anything else. Was she really manipulative?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄. Not only was she ignoring Armando, still hurt about what he said, he was ignoring her too. Making her job easier, which only hurt her more. Was Selena upset because he was right? She loved him so much but why did she not show him that?

Every-time the group had to talk, they would sit apart from each other. Group celebrations were awkward too, Armando didn’t even glance at the poor girl, treating her as if she didn’t even exist. A game that she started, ended up being ran by the true player as she realised she could never beat him in his own game.

She noticed. As did everyone else too. It wasn’t until Kelly had to ask you what was wrong was where you just fell apart. “I fucked up so so bad Kelly. He hates me.” She sobbed into her hands, her hair a mess as sadness yet desperation hung over her head. All the other woman could do was comfort her as she cried into her arms.

Little did she know there was someone behind that door who heard it all.

However, footsteps trailed away from the door, leaving the love they had behind.

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Agárrate por mí, nena, ya casi estoy ahí”-Hold on for me, baby, i’m almost there

“te sientes tan bien nena..”- You feel so good baby..

“¿De verdad estás huyendo de nuevo?” - Are you really running away again?

“dejar de tratar de jugar a la víctima.” - Do not try and play the victim.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hihihihi!! Happy Belated Bday!!!! I hope you had a good day 💗

Just wanna say again I love ya writing 🤍 Question for the Naha AU, Would the Naga hatchlings be able to speak English since they grew up around reader? And do you think Satoru and Suguru would develop more speech the longer they’re around reader?

Could y’all maybe stop giving me ideas for the naga au??? This isn't very nice

Top of the Food Chain pt 3

Part One Part two

(Dark!naga!Satosugu x reader)

(Warnings: implied forced relationship, yandere, dark content etc etc)

"I saw a shark today."

That certainly caught your attention.

"I'm sorry, you what?"

"Triangle fins, sharp teeth," Nobara casually continues, "a shark."

You move, more worried than upset. "Did it attack you? Are you okay?"

You glance down at her body. In just a few years, she'd grown to be slightly smaller than you. In terms of looks, she's resembles a human pre-teen. Compared to her brothers, she looks more human too. Her hair can hide the fins that protrude where her ears should be. Her eyes are more human, rounder. If it weren't for her tail, swishing in the water behind her, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"We did fight." Nobara grins. Sharp teeth, just like her fathers'.

"Not funny," you reply.

"We did! Can you guess who won? I'll give you a hint: she's right in front of you."

She manages to pull a laugh out of you. You shake your head at her, more exasperated than anything else.

"No more fighting any more sharks," you tell her, but when she grins wider, you know she won't listen.

In human years, she's barely an infant. In Naga years, she's barely a teenager. Yet, she's so independent. Nobara started hunting for herself as soon as she started staying in the water around the clock. Not even Yuji and Megumi became this hands-off, despite both being larger than her.

It's probably why you had a soft spot for her. You'd never admit this to the other two hatchlings, but Nobara was your favorite (and you had a feeling she knew it, too). She resembles you in a way. Different, from the rest of the group. A bit isolated. It doesn't help that neither of her fathers seemed to be interested in her as soon as she started venturing into the water. You can count the number of times they've visited her on your hand. And you were pretty sure it had more to do with the fact you were with her, rather than Nobara herself.

She was alone. Much like you are.

The siren hums, giving you a small 'aye captain', which causes you to laugh again. Despite how uncaring she appeared, you were certain Nobara liked it when you worried for her. Cared about her. You just wished she wouldn't go to extremes just to get your attention.

Her expression brightens just then. Her tail swishes, creating small waves as she rises up. You were a few feet away, right at the bank, looking down at her as she wiggled.

"Oh! I found more human things!" She excitedly told you.

"Did you?" you ask, tilting your head, smiling.

There's a nod, before she's diving down, disappearing into the depths. She comes back up to the surface a few minutes later, depositing a few trinkets onto the bank.

It's your fault for instilling such a curiosity for humans. She was the first to pick up your tongue, practically a native speaker by the time she started to swim. Because of her ability to venture into the ocean, she started picking up strange objects, returning back to you. You and her would sit for hours, sifting through the stuff she brought. Her fascination with humankind thrilled you. You were always more than willing to share your knowledge with Nobara.

"What are they?" she asks in pure fascination.

"Hm, let's see," you reply, looking through the stuff.

It was a rather small haul. You didn't mind. She's found a couple of interesting things today.

"Oh, a claw clip," you note, picking the plastic contraption with both hands, "you use this to hold your hair, to get it out of your face."

It's pretty. Cheap looking, but ultimately pretty. You like the designs. It's a pretty color too. Periwinkle.

Nobara looks at the hair ornament with wonder.

"A claw clip." She tries.

"Here, I'll show you. Turn around." You tell her.

She does as she's told, swishing in the water. You lean over the bank, grabbing her beautiful hair. You needed to be careful. Nagafolk have more sensitive hair than yours but she doesn't seem to mind your fumbling. When you're finished adjusting the clip, you ask her to look at her reflection in the water.

"Well?" you ask.

"Wow," she gushes, "I look so cute!"

You laugh, light and airy. She beams at you, and for a moment, she looks like a kid, with no sharp teeth, no desire to go shark hunting.

"What else?" she asks, moving back to the bank.

You hum, picking up the book next. It was soggy from all the time it had spent in the water. You could somewhat make out what was on the title. But the ink on the inside was completely ruined.

"Books don't do well in water," you tell her with a pitied smile, "sorry."

She frowns but urges you to explain the last object. You'd been purposefully saving it for last. In a strange way, it was sentimental to you.

"A camera," you explain, "you can use it to take pictures."

"Pictures?" Nobara echoes.

"Remember those photographs you found last week? Pictures and photographs are the same thing." Nobara nods at your explanation.

She takes the camera from your fingers, examining it.

"We can get pictures from this?" She asks, and you can't help but note the excitement in her tone.

"Not from this camera no," you tell her, "Human technology and water don't mix."

She huffs. Her expression oddly reminds you of Suguru's whenever Satoru did something disappointing. She truly was her father's daughter.

"That's stupid," she finally tells you and you have to throw your head up and laugh. Your shoulders shake. You can catch a hint of a smile from her before she goes back to examining the camera.

It's cheap, one of those disposable ones you'd find at the check-out aisle at a grocery store. It was a hassle to take care of, working with the film, taking it to someone who could turn it into something visual. You knew that because-

"-We took a camera just like this for our trip," you start, "We were supposed to take pictures of every island that we visited. Something we could have taken home with us."

The cruise. The explosion. You washing up on this hellhole of an island. It felt like years ago, but how long ago was it? You'd already lost your sense of time.

"Mom?"

You glance up. Her eyes are thoughtful, staring you down. Too wide, you can't help but think. Her eyes are too wide to be human. Because she isn't human. She wasn't one of you.

"If you could, would you leave?"

It takes you a moment to process her words. You can't formulate a response, not quickly enough. This should be the time when you become the adult she's looking for. When you coddle her and assure her that you will never leave her.

When you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

The reason why Nobara was your favorite, was because she was a lot more smarter than you.

Her eyes flick down. Her hands, still holding the camera, grip tighter threatening to break-

Then, she straightens herself. Posture righted, angled, taut. Her fins flare out before flattening. She could smell them coming.

You, on the other hand, heard them before you saw them.

A breaking of twigs, a silent hiss. You expect it, yet you still flinch when a clawed hand rests on your shoulder.

You can feel yourself deflate. Times up.

In front of you, Nobara frowns, unimpressed. You can feel Satoru nuzzle his face into your neck. Suguru is clicking something to the hatchling. In turn, her face curls into a sneer. She hisses something back.

You hate it when they do this, ignore you in favor of speaking a language you'd never understand. Satoru and Suguru would always gleefully leave you out. Nobara, however, was far more accommodating.

"What's he saying?" You ask her.

She huffs, crossing her arms and looking away.

"He asked if I took you out to the open ocean."

You glance at Suguru, hoping your face is as disapproving as you feel. Suguru meets your gaze, a silent challenge.

"Did you?" A new voice comes.

Yuji appears first out of the foliage with a bright smile and wide eyes. He's followed by his second oldest sibling. Megumi gives a slight warning hiss when his youngest sibling almost barrels him over.

"I didn't!" Nobara insists, glaring at Yuji. He only grins back, glinting his sharp fangs. Smile of a predator, you think to yourself.

"Nothing like that happened." You turned to Suguru, "We just stayed here. I never left."

It was a promise to both of them, one you hope none of the hatchlings heard. Or at least, paused enough to decipher.

Yuji and Megumi slither up to greet you despite you still being trapped in Satoru's hold. The larger naga huffs, not happy with the sudden attention you're receiving. You ignore Satoru, smiling when Megumi briefly touches your arm in affection. Yuji gently leans down to bump foreheads.

"I don't get why you two had to come along," Satoru says, his tone light, but you can still sense the annoyance. His hold over you becomes ever so slightly constricting. Even all these years, and he's still terrified of you being taken away.

They both are, even when Suguru tries to deny his paranoia.

Yuji pouts at his father's words. He turns to you.

"You were gone forever." He whines. "We got worried."

When Megumi glances away, you know he shares the sentiment. It's nice to know that despite their reptilian features, you could still instill a semblance of humanity within these three.

"I didn't mean to scare you," You say, not just talking to the hatchlings, "I wanted to spend time with Nobara for a bit. Look at the things she brought!"

You mention to the human artifacts. In response, Suguru picks up the camera with sharp claws. Neither Suguru nor Satoru had ever been interested in the things humanity tossed on their shores.

The boys follow in their father's footsteps. Yuji only nods, Megumi doesn't even bother giving a response. No matter how hard you tried, only Nobara was truly interested in human culture.

To prove your point, she hisses, her fins flattening to the sides when Suguru handles the camera too roughly for her taste.

"Careful!" She warns. "Don't break it."

An amused smile before Suguru tosses the camera in her direction. She catches it just before it hits the water, still scowling. He doesn't react to your look of disapproval. Satoru laughs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Suguru titters something in her direction. Nobara hisses. Yuji and Megumi also stiffen. You fight the urge to sigh. You don't need a translator to know what he's saying.

"Megumi, Yuji," you call, "stay with your sister for a bit, please? Your fathers and I need to talk for a bit."

Yuji's more than happy to dive into the water with his sister. She squabbles with him, dunking his head under the water in an attempt of casual drowning. Megumi's the one who hesitates. You've always thought he knew more than he let on.

You give him an encouraging smile.

"Go on."

You wait until their heads dip underwater. Then, you wait a few moments more, prolonging the inevitable.

"You shouldn't scare them like that." You finally say, not looking at either of them. "They're just kids."

"She's old enough to understand the dangers of you being in the water," Suguru responds.

"Of course she is, but she doesn't need constant reminders." You're not arguing. You're not arguing. "They—the hatchlings—don't need to see me as weak."

"But you are." Satoru playfully says. As if to prove it, he curls his hands around your hips and waist, easily hoisting you into his arms. You knew better than to struggle, reluctantly putting your arms around his neck.

"I know my own weaknesses. They don't need to coddle me. I get that enough from you two."

Satoru shrugs, burying his head back into your neck, soaking in your warmth.

"In any case," Suguru continues his earlier conversation. You watch as he glides over, a clawed arm caressing your shoulder, "you shouldn't be out with her for so long. The boys will start to notice your favoritism sooner or later."

You frown at his words. "I'm not playing favorites. At least Megumi and Yuji have each other. Nobara's out here all alone."

Nobara had fully developed her gills when she was just a year old. The more she spent her time out in the ocean, the more worried you got for her loneliness.

Suguru hums at your words, tracing your legs.

"She won't be lonely for long. Aren't the females migrating this season, Satoru?"

The other naga nods. "Yeah, this new moon. She'll make plenty of friends in the open ocean."

You blink at Satoru's words, trying to sit up from his embrace. He just huffs in annoyance, gripping you tighter.

"She—Nobara's leaving?" You ask.

Suguru smiles, enjoying your naivety.

"Of course, my love. All hatchlings do. Soon enough, Megumi and Yuji will go out and scout their own territories. Don't human young leave their parents once they're old enough?"

They do. You have. But in human years, Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji are still toddlers. In naga years, they're barely teenagers. To you, they're still babies. They're so young. Would they be able to fend for themselves out there?

Nobara asked if you could leave, would you. Maybe she wasn't just asking for your sake.

"If anything, that's good for us!" Satoru exclaims. "The caves' getting too crowded. It'd be nice to finally get to stretch out again."

Suguru nods in agreement. When you don't share their joy, he leans down to your eye level.

"You'll miss them, hm?" He asks.

You nod. There's no need to lie. He laughs at your honesty, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sure they'll visit from time to time," he assures, "hatchlings don't typically have any sentiment for their parents, but I'm sure the three will make an exception for you."

"Besides," Satoru pipes in. "The nest won't be empty for too long."

You look up at him in mild alarm.

"What do you mean by that?"

Suguru gives his mate a soft smile.

"This was our first mating season," he explains, "a success, I'd like to call it. We'll have many more sets of hatchlings in the future."

They both peer down at you. Eyes turn to slits. Purple and blue.

"And you'll be a wonderful parent to all of them. Just like you were to our first three."

[whatever-lmaoo]

Sweet Life Of Mine

Summary: Life works in mysterious ways and Bucky would go through it all again if it meant he’d get to experience the rest of it with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!reader

CW: fluff, a bit of teasing, flashbacks are italicized and thoughts are in bold and italicized[2.4k]

A/N: As always the cute line dividers were made by @firefly-graphics 🌸 I’ve decided to turn this into a two-parter 🙂‍↔️ Special recognition to @buckys-wintersoldier without her encouragement I probably would’ve trashed this fic early on in the process😂 and @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me yap and helping me come up with ideas when I would get stuck😍I am so thankful for both of them and y’all should check out their works because they are wonderful!!!💖 With that being said this fic has grown on me a lot and I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do🥹 Dialogue is not my strong suite so I apologize if any of the lines sound corny🤧 I don’t give anyone permission to copy, translate or repost my works on here or other sites😊 Comments and constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

Bucky absentmindedly breaks down the last few cardboard boxes, taking in your newly furnished living room. Photos of you and your respective families are scattered along the walls and on top of your antique furniture. Plants strategically placed around the room and the gorgeous lamps you picked out created a welcoming atmosphere.

He throws the last box on top of his makeshift pile, wondering how all of the broken roads of his life led him to this moment, how he got his dream girl, a woman who accepted him with his baggage and loved the parts of him that he deemed unpleasant, physically and mentally. It all felt so surreal to him.

As the time grew closer for the wedding to start, Bucky couldn’t help but pace his dressing room floor. He occasionally looked in the mirror to fix his hair or wipe his face with another paper towel before throwing it away in the almost-filled trash can. He felt like his throat was constricted and began fidgeting with his tie. Eventually, he gave up and hunched over a table, trying to remind himself that everything was okay.

The weight of a hand rubbing his back, slowly grounded him for a moment. Steve’s voice sounded muffled in his ears but grew clearer as Bucky took in deeper breaths and continued to focus on the circular motion of Steve’s movements. “Buck, do you want me to get her for you?” The small “please” he lets out is all it takes for Steve to rush to your room.

Bucky stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from on top of a dresser. He was almost finished with it when a soft knock caught his attention.

“Baby?” You say opening the door slightly and sticking your hand through the gap. A clammy palm rests on yours as you massage his knuckles with your thumb, imprinting your touch in his mind, a silent reminder that you’ll always be there when he needs you.

“You ready to be stuck with me for life, Hotshot?” You tease, grinning as you hear him let out a quiet laugh.

"I should be asking you that, Gorgeous,” he breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something than I am at the thought of marrying you. I’m just worried that I’ll somehow mess this up or this is one big dream. I’m afraid that at any second I’ll wake up in a cold sweat and find myself sitting on that old apartment floor, where instead of hearing that lovely voice of yours, it’ll be the older lady next door yelling because she muted her TV again or the loud honks from angry New Yorkers." He rests his head against the door and clutches the doorknob with his metal hand.

“Can you feel that, Bubba?” you say, placing his hand on your chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart beating against his fingertips. “My heart beats like this when I see or listen to you. When I think about being able to wear your ring on my finger, taking your last name, and one day being the mother of your children. My heart beats for you, Bucky, and that's one of the realest feelings I've ever experienced.”One thing Bucky loves about you is you’ve never judged him for expressing his fears, and you’re always there to support him when his insecurities eat away at his progress.

He can hear Natasha's distant voice calling for you and smiles softly.

“I’ve got to head back for last-minute touch-ups, but I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, right?” You reach for his hand on your chest, gently kissing his palm before reconnecting your hands together.

“I’ll be there waiting for you. I love you, Gorgeous.” He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your fingers.

“I love you too, Hotshot.” And with that, you slip your hand from his loose grip and through the door, your hurried steps echoing in the hall. Steve enters a moment later, noticing that the previous tension in Bucky’s body has almost completely disappeared.

“Let’s go make you a married man, Buck.”

“What are we waiting for, punk,” Bucky says, slapping him on the back playfully, laughing with each other as they walk out of the room, ready to make his dreams come true.

“Hey Gorgeous, I’ve got a question for you.” Bucky groans out as he starts straightening up his mess.

“Ask away, Hotshot.” You utter, your voice resounding slightly in the foyer as you hang up a picture of the two of you on your wedding night.

Humming along to the soft music from the living room while admiring how Bucky’s skin glowed under the golden hues from the sparklers your friends and family surrounded the two of you with. You can still feel the love radiating from him just by looking at his tender smile and remembering how his deep blue eyes twinkled with fondness as he gazed at you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“How do you feel about going on a date tomorrow?” You smile at the steady sound of footsteps approaching you. A pair of hands enclose your wide hips, and Bucky’s chin rests on your shoulder as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Bubs.” The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through your body, and you can feel your cheeks heating up as he places a sweet kiss below your ear.

“Where are you going to take me?” You ask, grabbing his hands and placing them on your plush belly, leaning back in his embrace.

“Let’s see, I could take you to the movies, an amusement park, or maybe a pumpkin patch. The possibilities are endless.” You hear his grin before you see it, turning your head towards him.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” A pout forms on your face, and you twist in his arms as he straightens up, clasping your hands together behind his neck.

“You would be correct, Gorgeous,” he says, smirking and pecking your lips. You hope he didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes as an idea popped into your head.

“How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?” You ask sweetly, letting your fingertips play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll pick out something for you.” Your head tilts and eyebrows raise in amusement.

“You…are going to choose what I wear?” Bucky rolls his eyes and licks his lower lip in thought.

“Are you questioning my fashion sense, Doll? If I remember correctly, you wear my clothes more than I do.” His hands slip down to the top of your ass drawing your body in even closer, and you roll your eyes this time.

“You’ve never put together an outfit for me before, and I like wearing your clothes because they’re comfortable and smell like you.”

“Don’t want that pretty little head of yours worrying about a thing tomorrow. And I’m not complaining; they look better on you than on me. You make anything you wear look amazing, especially when it's in white.” A warm smile is plastered across his face, his eyes darting up to the photo behind you, another memory from the best day of his life playing in his mind like an old film.

“Do I look alright? Am I beginning to smell?” Bucky questions Steve and Sam as he tries to smoothen out his already-perfect suit jacket. The chattering from the guests did little to calm his nerves.

“You’re lookin’ snazzy, Bucknasty,” Sam says, giving Bucky a lighthearted slap on his ass.

"You look great, Buck." Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, bringing him into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you, man." He whispers, giving Bucky a brotherly kiss on the side of his head and a pat on his back as he lets go. He thanks the both of them before turning back around, eyes scanning the crowd as he tries to grasp the idea that all of these people are there for the both of you.

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the door as the orchestra played the familiar tune of the song you chose for your entrance. After all the practices and months spent planning for this moment, nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming feeling he got when the ushers revealed your figure standing at the opposite end of him.

His bottom lip quivered, and he began to blink rapidly, but his gaze never strayed away from you. The dress you picked was beautiful, the shade of white complementing your complexion, and the way it hugged you in all the right places made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He hadn't realized he was crying until you cupped his damp cheek in your palm, gently wiping away his tears while your own began to well in your eyes.

"Hi," you whispered through your watery smile, and it took everything in him not to crash his lips against yours.

You lightly glide your fingers down the side of his face, beaming up at him, already knowing where his train of thought took him. Gently tapping the side of his glasses, you watch as he slowly comes back to you, the affection in his eyes creating a warmth inside you that only he can ignite.

You wrap your arms around his midsection, and he kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head, holding you against his body a little tighter.

“I think I look good in white too.” You say casually, a giggle escaping the two of you.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, a crooked smirk forming on his face, and you pull away slightly. A smirk of your own playing on your lips as you lean up next to his ear.

“So much so that I could be convinced to recreate the boudoir photos I gave you.” You take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling slightly, a low growl rumbles in his chest, and you do your best to keep your thighs from clenching. Bucky’s hands cup your ass as he lifts you in his arms.

“I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade you, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, causing him to chuckle as he connects your lips, blindly making his way to your bedroom.

You felt a sense of tranquility despite the chilly breeze nipping at your exposed skin as you strolled through the desolate yet animated park. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the soft chirping of crickets fill your ears, while you watch the beautiful glow of fireflies encircling the bushes lining the pathway.

You admire the way the clear water of the pond shimmers softly in the moonlight as you take a seat on your favorite bench. Your eyes close and the tension in your body slowly fades as you allow yourself to enjoy Mother Nature and the safe feeling she provides you.

The hairs on your arms stand up as an unsettling feeling washes over you, and the squelching of grass confirms your fears of not being alone. You open your eyes, turning your head, searching for the source that disturbed your peace. Your eyes land on a figure standing at the edge of the pond.

He must have felt your stare because the next thing you know, a pair of striking blue eyes connects with yours. He watches you curiously as you assess whether he's a threat, and a ghost of a smile crosses his lips when he notices the slight drop in your shoulders before turning his gaze back to the still water.

Your lip rolls between your teeth as you consider leaving. You stand and start to walk away, but then you hear the stranger speak.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, and you turn around after a lengthy moment of stillness, wondering if you should trust him. You observe his relaxed stance, face devoid of malice, but it's his captivating eyes that draw you in and tug at your heartstrings.

There was a silent plea within them, a look you've grown used to seeing in the mirror over the years. Hoping for someone to fill the kind of emptiness that comes with having experienced too much, even if only for a short while.

You stand in silence as a family of ducks begins to swim by. A twinge of pain surges through your chests, as you both watch the last one struggle to keep up, feeling like Mother Nature is reminding you that you were once in similar positions.

The wind grows colder, causing you to cross your arms in an attempt to conserve body heat. He notices this and starts to rid himself of his leather jacket.

“What are you doing?” You squeak out, taking a step back.

“Relax, you’re obviously cold and I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you stand there shivering.” You go to protest but he’s already wrapping his jacket around your arms.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers.” You exclaim, although, grateful for the makeshift shield against the cool weather.

“What are you? Ten? Would you feel better if I gave you my name?” He mocks and your eyes roll.

It’s always the pretty ones that are annoying.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” He says, your eyes grow wide and your mouth gapes open.

I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Fuck off. I think you’re annoying too.” He barks out a laugh at that, startling you slightly, you turn your head away from him feeling a small grin make its way to the surface.

“The name’s James, but you can call me Bucky, or pretty if that’s what you want.” He winks and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tell him your name.

“Gorgeous name for an even more gorgeous girl,” he pauses as his phone goes off and a deep sigh leaves his lips when he checks the notification.

“I hate to depart like this, but duty calls.” He says backing away slowly, waving his phone in his hand. You go to give him his jacket, but he starts making a disapproving noise.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers, Gorgeous.” A sly smirk forms on his face before he spins around, gradually disappearing from your line of sight.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself, pulling the leather around you tighter as you begin to head back to your car, wondering if you’ll ever run into him again.

[mistiell]

Let me put my Lips to Something

Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader

Summary: After learning about his aversion to touch, you tone down the physical affection. Spencer finds himself missing your touch, and after weeks of yearning, he’s had enough. He decides it’s time to fix this.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, it gets pretty steamy towards the end but nothing graphic so I don't think this needs age restricting lmao

A/N: Part 2 to “I’m Starvin’, Darlin’”. The feedback on the last part motivated me to finish this in like, a single sitting lmao. Hope y’all enjoy! :)

P.S. My requests are open so if you wanna send something in for Spence, I'll do my best to get to it quickly!

Part 1 - Current - Part 3

Spencer hadn’t realised how much he wanted — how much he needed — your touch until you stopped. Where there was once that warm, tingly anticipation whenever he made you laugh, there‘s now a strange absence left in its wake. Where there used to have been a bump or a squeeze, there are awkward smiles and nervous glances. Like a line of dialogue without end quotations, left to hang in the balance while the author considers what should be said next.

It’s killing him.

He’s come to realise that this want extends beyond the bounds of anything that could ever be considered platonic. He wants more than your touch. He wants you.

He craves you, finds himself remembering the way your arms felt around him the last time you hugged him. Finds himself fantasising about how it would feel to be the one to take you in his arms. How it would feel to be the one to hold you; to cradle your face between his palms and lose himself in your kiss; to let go of his inhibitions and drown himself in the depths of your affections.

He wants your time and energy. He wants your attention and praise. He wants to be the one to make you smile and laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He wants to be yours, and he wants everyone to know it.

It’s only been three weeks since that night at the bar, but even so, he feels like if he doesn’t figure out how to tell you how he feels, he might very well lose his mind. You’re right across from him all day, five days a week. It’s torture. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, but at this point, he’s well beyond caring.

The problem is, how on earth is he supposed to go about confessing to you? He’s never been suave or charismatic. He’s awkward and dorky and breaks a sweat every time anyone even remotely attractive looks his way. He’s never felt this intensely about anyone before, never desired anyone this way before. Sometimes, late at night when he’s finally tucked himself into bed, he attempts to calculate the probability of you ever wanting him in the way he wants you.

In his pessimistic mind, that number is despairingly low.

“Spence?” He startles at the sound of your voice, snapping his head up to look at you.

You’ve worn a different lipstick today. It’s a little darker than your usual colour, a rather glossy, rosier shade of mauve. He thinks he’s seen it somewhere before, and the name pops up from somewhere in his memory.

“Rum raisin.” He mumbles, staring intently at your lips and wondering briefly if it would transfer if he kissed you.

“What?” You cock your head at him with an amused sort of confusion.

He blinks once before clearly his throat, “Oh, um, your lipstick.”

You raise your hand so your fingertips hover over your bottom lip as you smile at him, “How’d you know?”

“I saw it in a drugstore once.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Your memory never ceases to amaze me, Spence.”

His heart swells as he smiles sheepishly, “Thanks.”

You hum before gesturing to two big boxes of files that are sitting on your desk, “Could you help me run these down to records?”

“Oh, yeah.” He’s quick to cross the short distance to your desk and purposely picks the heavier of the two boxes.

The trip down to records is a rather tedious one as of today. The elevator is out of order so you have to take the stairs from the sixth floor to the third.

“Do you like rain?” You ask, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re looking out water speckled windows at the stormy street below.

“Yeah.” He leaves out the part that the possibility of power outages and the darkness that accompanies them unnerves him greatly.

You turn your head to smile at him as you reach the records room, “Me too.”

He opens the door for you before you have the chance and lets you go in first, letting the door shut behind him. He follows you into the room, weaving between shelves and stepping over boxes that have yet to find their places. He watches you skim over the yellowed labels, your lips twitching as you read them off in your head.

You find the spot you’re looking for and make a sound of satisfaction before bending at the waist to slide the box into place, your skirt sliding a little further up to press against the plush flesh of the backs of your thighs. His gaze wanders up the length of your body and stops at your chest. From this angle, he’s able to see the curve of your breast and he swallows hard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head, feeling ashamed for ogling you like that.

Behind the darkness of his eyelids, he sees the lights flicker and when he opens them, he finds he’s not able to see much more than when he had them closed.

Shit.

“Damnit, the power’s out.” You curse, taking the box from him and slotting it in next to the other.

He takes a deep breath. The dark isn’t as frightening with you there in front of him, but that familiar anxiety pricks his chest and settles heavy in his gut.

“Spence?”

He wonders when the emergency lights will come on. Maybe they’re already on in the hall. He feels along the wall and shuffles back over to the door. When he tries the knob, he finds it locked. Now he’s panicking a little.

Well, maybe a lot.

There’s a clap of thunder outside that’s so powerful that he feels it in his chest and he jumps, breath catching in his chest as he screws his eyes shut as if it’ll make a difference.

“Spence?” You call again softly, “Are you okay?

“Y-Yeah.” He stutters.

“You don’t like storms?”

He shakes his head before realising you can’t see him, “No, not really.”

“Me neither.” You whisper, and he hears the shuffling of your clothes as you shift your weight between your feet and huff a breathy puff of nervous laughter, “I don’t like the dark either.”

“Me neither.” He echoes, wetting his lips briefly as he considers how to comfort you despite how anxious he is himself.

Carefully, tentatively, he reaches for you in the dark and takes your hand, just barely brushing his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft and warm, and he attempts to find your face in the dark as he murmurs ever so softly, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You reply just as softly, squeezing his hand.

It’s a little unsettling not being able to see you. He can hear you breathing, and having your hand in his feels so nice, but he wants you closer.

“Can I…” He trails off, but tugs at your hand so you’ll step a little closer. He swallows his nerves, “Can I distract you?”

It’s a lame excuse, but it’s all he can come up with on the spot.

“Distract me how?” He can hear the smile in your voice and it encourages his steadily growing confidence.

He pulls you closer, and you step further into his space. He places a hand on your waist, and you don’t recoil. In fact, you come a little closer and set a hand on his chest. You slide it along the length of his shoulder and up the back of his neck to thread your fingers in the hairs at the base of his skull and he shudders, lips parting to sigh softly. Your thumb settles just behind his ear and strokes the skin there tenderly and he can’t stop himself from leaning down to gently bump your nose with his, giving you plenty of time to pull away, to tell him you don’t want this.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask so innocently, breath fanning over his lips in a steady rhythm as his eyelids flutter shut.

“Please.” He breathes, leaning in to meet you halfway.

Your lips meet his timidly and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a second where you pull back to let him breathe, let him get used to the feeling. His eyes open a sliver, just enough to make out the edges of you in the dark as his brain catches up with his body. And then the shock passes.

And he devours you.

The hand that was on your waist comes up to cradle your cheek as he brushes his tongue against your bottom lip in a silent request. You grant it, opening up to him to let him roll his tongue against yours. You stand on your tiptoes and lean further into him, returning the kiss with a fervour he wasn’t expecting but welcomes happily. He can taste your lipstick and is pleasantly surprised to find it tastes a little like vanilla.

There’s a push and pull of tongues and teeth and soft little sighs as he dares to slip his hands down and pull you flush against him by your hips, revelling in the breathy moan that slips from your throat and meets his mouth. He pulls away only to kiss sloppily at the corner of your mouth and down your jaw. He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, smiling against your skin when you gasp and tug at his hair. Mouthing at your skin, he searches until you whine and shudder after he drags his teeth over a particular spot and focuses his attention there.

He sucks a nice bruise into the spot, some primal part of him driving him to mark you up and claim you as his while he has you here. He bites a little too hard and you hiss, making him pull back and search for your face in the dark.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Mm-mm.” You hum before immediately capturing his lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing the moan that escapes him.

He guides you by your hips until he has you pressed against the door, sliding a hand down the length of your thigh before slipping it up past the hem of your skirt to grab greedily at your flesh. He hikes your leg up by his hip and you hook your knee around it to pull him impossibly close.

His touch is tender even as he practically swallows you whole, thumb stroking the side of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up. He rolls his hips up against your experimentally and you whine, urging him to do it again. This is what he’s wanted — craved — for so long. You’re warm and soft in ways that his imagination could have never replicated. He’s dizzy, drunk on your kiss, on your touch, on you.

He’s attached himself to your neck again — the other side this time — when the lights flicker on, startling you both into looking up at the ceiling.

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of your combined laboured breathing, and when he looks back at you, he finds your face flushed and your lipstick smudged. You look back at him and he notices your pupils are blown wide as you suddenly smile and start giggling.

“What?” He chuckles, letting go of your thigh so that you can stand on your own two feet again.

“Rum raisin looks good on you, doctor.” You laugh, thumbing the remnants of your kisses off of his bottom lip.

He kisses you once again, smiling against your lips.

You tug him back and laugh again, “You’re making it worse!”

He does it again, and again, and then peppers kisses over the side of your neck until you’re giggling something awful and have to scrunch your shoulder to your ear to keep him from tickling you.

“Spencer!” You squeak as quietly as you can and he pulls away laughing.

Your giggles die down, and then you’re both left in a silence that isn’t awkward, but isn’t quite comfortable either. He has to say something, but what?

“Hey, would you, um,” You start, glancing down at his lips and biting at yours nervously, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? Just us?”

He blinks, wanting to pinch himself to make sure this is actually happening, “Like, a date?”

You nod. He blinks again before practically beaming at you.

“Yeah.” He nods, attempting to correct the smudged edge of your lipstick with his thumb, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“Saturday? Five o’ clock? We can do whatever you want.”

He nods again, “Sounds good.”

“Good.” You smile, leaning up to kiss him, your touch so saccharine and gentle that his legs feel like jello beneath him.

The doorknob jiggles suddenly and he instinctively reaches to help you button up your blouse a little more while you fiddle with the collar until it covers the rather obvious hickey on your neck.

“Hey, are you two still in there?” Derek calls from the other side as you attempt to help Spencer fix his hair to no avail.

“Uh, yeah!” He calls, clearing his throat after his voice cracks up an octave, “We accidentally locked ourselves in.”

“Here.” You bend to slide the key under the door, and this time, he stares unabashedly, “That’s the key.”

The knob jiggles a little more before the door opens, and when it does, Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously, “You guys okay?” He locks eyes with Spencer and smirks, “You seem a little winded.”

“Yeah, we’re okay.” You smile, hastily walking out, “The boxes were just heavy. Plus, we had to walk all the way down here.”

“Yeah, okay.” Derek says, though it’s clear he isn't convinced. When you get a little further ahead of them, he claps Spencer on the back with a bright grin, “About time, loverboy!”

“Shut up.” Spencer shoots back, though he can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face.

This is not how he expected his confession to go, but — as he watches you walk down the hall a little ways ahead of him with a renewed pep in your step and your hair a little dishevelled — he is so glad it went the way it did.

———————————————————————

Edit: I had a couple people request a part 3 (Possibly smutty, but we shall see), and I'm curious about whether or not y'all would want that? Just let me know in the replies/reblogs. :)

Update: Part 3 is posted and linked at the top of this post :)

Taglist:

@louderfortheback @theblaxkbird @marimorena06 @special-forces7 @lolilkkk

[quietstormxr]

Green Dragon Part 2

Xaden Riorson x Reader

The requested Part 2! I hope y’all enjoy the continued angst, along with fluff and happy ending. Thanks so much for reading and loving the first part!

Word Count : Over 9k

Warnings: violence, torture, swearing

Even though your relationship with Xaden never improved, you felt yourself finally willing to talk with the rest of the boys. 

Months after the first time Bodhi said he wanted to talk to you again, you were finally back to hanging out the way you used to. Sometimes he would bring Garrick and Liam with him when you would go and hang out at the river. 

Your favorite times to hang out with them was sunset, but one night you found yourself with Bodhi and Garrick staring up at the stars. 

“You know this reminds me of the time that Xaden and I first found you sneaking out of the dorms as a first year.” Garrick states. 

You turn to look at him and aren’t afraid to let him see the happiness the memory brings along with the sadness at the mention of Xaden. 

“You told us that we should always take time to look at the sky and appreciate the beauty around us.” He continued. “That was after you tried to take both of us on to stop from getting told to get back to the citadel.” I smile back at the amused look he now has on his face.

“I can’t help the fact that neither one of you would just let me enjoy the stars. Besides, if the two of you hadn’t found me out here, we probably wouldn’t be friends. It’s not my fault that you thought I was trying to uncover your secrets.” I huff back at him, earning an eyeroll from the man after mentioning their secrets.

“Yeah well, we didn’t plan on letting you in on any secrets.” He snarked, even though you knew there was really no menace behind it. 

“Too late for that now.” You say as you give him a saccharine sweet smile.

It wasn’t your fault that the entire group adopted you into their family. You supposed you were just lucky. Although, you knew that if you hadn’t come across that one letter that was irresponsibly tossed, you would’ve never learned the truth either.

‘You were smarter and more observant than the Wingleader gives you credit for.’ Cedri concluded in your mind.

Another smile breaks out over your face at your dragon’s continued skills to make you feel like you were too clever for your own good. At least you knew that was one way you got on Xaden’s nerves. For some reason, he could never predict what information you could get out of anyone. Even though he tried to keep things from you, you always seemed to pick them apart and discover what they were doing. 

‘Besides, you needed to know what we are up against if you were going to fight like the Wingleader expects you to.’ 

‘Yes, well I suppose I won’t have to live up to his expectations anymore.’ I sass back not wanting to talk about the “Wingleader” with my dragon.

‘You may not want to talk about him, but that doesn’t stop your thoughts.’ Cedri muses into your mind.

You can’t help the labored sigh that breaks from you after your dragon points out your inability to let Xaden go completely.

‘Thank you, Oh Illustrious One, for pointing out my human weakness of emotions for the millionth time.’ You sigh back to him. If only you could block him out from your emotional thoughts, maybe he wouldn’t be pulling on your weakness for what seems like the thousandth time. 

Cedri huffs in your mind, the sound of amusement reverberating from your bond. You may have tried to move on, but that didn’t stop the fact that you still had feelings for Xaden that were more than just caring if he was alive.

“What’s got you huffing?” Bodhi asks from your other side, amusement laced in his tone.

“Oh, just a nosy dragon commenting on my internal thoughts.” You chime back at him, letting out another sigh before you let your head drop to Bodhi’s shoulder enjoying the quiet night with sparkling stars. 

In the absence of Xaden, you had gotten closer to Bodhi, especially since he was now in your squad, and you were still spending a good amount of time with your squad members. It was perfectly ridiculous you thought. Of course, you would now be extremely close friends with the cousin of the man that seemed to still haunt you. 

Though it was a perfect distraction for you both. Bodhi had told you that the time he spent with Xaden had significantly diminished since War Games had begun. You had begun a new routine with him helping you train after dinner for an hour almost every night. Even Garrick would join in whenever he was available and needed to blow off some steam. 

It was one of those sparring nights when you found yourself laying on the mat trying to regain your breath after a spar with Garrick. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face and the contagious laugh that broke out as you and Bodhi had been teasing Garrick about his obvious interest in Imogen. 

You were so caught up in your enjoyment that you didn’t even hear the door to the gym open. Therefore, it was even more surprising when you sat up from the mat and ended up looking directly back into those onyx eyes you hadn’t had the courage to meet in some time. 

The laughter immediately died from your lips, and you found yourself getting up and turning towards the girl’s locker rooms. 

“I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” You threw over your shoulder to your two sparring partners.

You hadn’t even taken two steps before you felt a hand close around your wrist. You immediately knew who it was, with the memories of those calloused hands flashing brightly in your mind. Your heart began to race, and you battled with yourself if you really wanted to turn around and face the man that had a hold on your wrist. 

Deciding on trying to save yourself from spiraling, you gently tugged on your hand hoping that he would just let it drop. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t seem like Xaden was in the mood to acquiesce to your wants. 

You turned around to face the man that you had been studiously avoiding for the last five months and looked at your hand where he still had his wrapped around your wrist. You kept your eyes trained down, not wanting to look up and see what exactly was in Xaden’s inner monologue of his eyes. You could have kept it that way until he decided he was going to speak.

“Look at me, please.” He asked, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it before. 

It was then you noticed that the gym was empty as Bodhi and Garrick must’ve been given an order to leave. Knowing that there was no way to avoid him, you slowly moved your eyes towards his onyx ones. As soon as you met them, you knew that it was a mistake to look. 

There was no denying that there was a sadness etched in the look he was giving you. But that wasn’t the only thing, at least that’s what you thought, it seemed you saw a look of love and regret behind those eyes. You couldn’t help the absolute disbelief that crossed your mind. There was no way this man, who was obviously so interested in someone else really wanted you. 

Feeling the conviction of your certainty that you no longer held the heart of the man in front of you, you finally found the courage to speak.

“What do you want from me Xaden?” You asked with an edge of exasperation in your voice and a tired sigh leaving your lips.

For a moment you felt regret for the flinch that you couldn’t avoid seeing as he took in your words. But why were you supposed to feel guilty when he was the one who broke your heart. 

“I want to talk to you about everything. I need you to be part of my life. Please let me explain.” He starts. 

You continue to stare at him trying to take in his words, but everything around you still seems to crumble.

“I may have believed that before I saw you kiss her, Xaden. And I know from your own friends that it’s gone further now. There’s no need for me to be put in the middle of your seemingly budding relationship.” You say but you can’t help the hurt that comes through your voice. 

You feel the sting of tears gathering in your eyes and drop your face once more not wanting him to know that the betrayal still affects you this way. You go to pull your hand away, but you feel a strong grip pull you forward, and he crushes you to his chest in an embrace. 

“Please don’t.” You whisper trying desperately to hold back your tears while your body stiffens. Without ever meeting his gaze again, you push against his chest, and you feel his arms reluctantly let you go. You turn around and walk out of the gym with your head down.  

As you trudge your way back to your room, you’re shocked to find Garrick standing by your door. 

“Hey.” He says softly looking at you with nothing but understanding in his eyes.

“I’m not in the right frame of my mind to entertain anyone Gare.” You say trying to hide the tremble of emotions in your voice. 

“I know. I’m not here for you to entertain me. I just wanted to make sure you are okay.” He says quietly. 

You look up to see him looking at you with nothing but sadness and a sincerity to help. He opens his arms seeming to know you need someone to lean on, and you walk straight into them.

He doesn’t even get the door to your room closed before you are sagging in his arms letting the tears flow freely. You know that you don’t usually show emotions like this, especially in front of the guys, but you’re tired of putting up a strong front. If just for tonight. 

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor of your room, the tears flowing freely while Garrick rocks you in his arms, but eventually your tears seem to dry up and exhaustion starts to claim you. With help from Garrick, you make your way to the bed.

“Thank you, Gare.” You whisper to him as your eyes fall closed and the exhaustion claims you.

After that night, it seemed both you and Xaden avoided each other and never found yourselves alone in a room again. Soon you knew he would be leaving for his outpost as a new Lieutenant, and you wouldn’t have to look around for him anymore. 

Unfortunately for you, the night of graduation wasn’t to be one for celebrating for you. As you stood in the courtyard after you had said your goodbyes to Garrick, you had to watch as Xaden was walked to the flight field by Violet. For a moment, you caught each other’s eyes, and you could feel yourself drowning in his dark eyes. 

You saw Violet saying something to him, but he never seemed to tear his gaze away from you. Not wanting to cause any issues in their relationship, you dropped your gaze and proceeded to walk to your room. 

‘Do not worry yourself Stormy One. You will get even stronger this year and will be ready to take on the next challenge.’ Cedri encourages you.

‘I just hope if I make it to graduation, I won’t have to be stationed with him. I don’t want to watch their relationship while fighting this war.’ You say to Cedri, even though you know you are drowning in your own self-pity tonight. 

You fling yourself down on your bed and pray that sleep will take you without any nightmares. 

As the months flew by, you threw yourself into classes and learning runes. If there was one thing you would always be thankful to Xaden for, it would be teaching you Tyrrish culture. You always found it fascinating to learn everything you could about each of the different provinces. 

One night while practicing runes with Bodhi in your room, there was a knock at your door. You figured that it must be one of your squad mates looking for help on some homework, but your eyes flew wide at the person standing on the other side of the door.

Xaden.

You stared back at him not really believing that he was standing there in front of you. Wasn’t he supposed to be at his station? Why was he in Basgiath? And even more confusingly, why was he knocking on your door?

Before your mind goes into too many directions, your brain clicks back into gear, and you realize he must be here for Sgaeyl to visit Tairn. And he must be here looking for Bodhi. 

“I believe someone is here for you Bodhi.” You say and turn to go back and sit on your bed. You return to the more complicated fabric runes that you had been working on and try to distract yourself. However, after a few seconds, you realize that you hadn’t heard your door click. 

You look up to see Xaden staring at you his eyes moving from your hands where the fabric lies, up to your face. It seems he can’t help the small smile that makes the left side of his mouth tick upwards and the slight crinkle to his eyes, a look of happiness dancing in his gaze. 

You are both cut short in your staring when Bodhi clears his throat as he walks up to meet his cousin at your door.

“Come on cousin. We can talk in my room.” Bodhi says as he moves past Xaden and begins to close the door behind him. You watch as Bodhi pulls at Xaden’s flight jacket sleeve before the door clicks and your view is obscured.

You can’t help the deep breath that leave your lungs as soon as you hear the lock slide back into place. How long had it been since you had seen him? You try not to think about the fact that the man still makes your heart race just by looking at you. And just about makes you faint when he deigns to give up one of his true smiles. 

“Ugh. Get. It. Together.” You breathe out in frustration and correct yourself. You can only think how grateful you will be to finally get out of Basgiath and hopefully never have to lay eyes on this man that seems stuck in your soul ever again.

Not even two days later, you wake with a pounding headache and an uncertainty in where the hell you are. The last thing you remember, you were heading to the bathing chamber after a day of training with Bodhi. Both of you laughing at an inside joke between the two of you from your first year. 

And then the memory clicks, of cloth covering your mouth while strong arms wrapped around your torso. Before succumbing to the substance on the cloth, your vision was blackened with a black cloth bag that was thrown over your head. 

You look around at the sight and think you must be back in your second year again and having to take part in RSC again. Then you remember, you’re a third year. 

Before your mind can continue to catch up, you hear the door behind you click open. You hear boots click on the floor coming closer and closer to you before a figure stops in front of you.

Varrish. 

Your heart rate begins to pick up. Why the hell were you being interrogated? Why would Varrish be handling it? You hadn’t done anything reckless in weeks that you can remember. You certainly hadn’t done anything to break the codex. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, for now at least.” Varrish spits at you while looking down at your restrained body.

“Why the hell am I being retained Vice Commandant?” You question, though you can’t help the disgust in the tone that leaves your lips. 

“Ah, you did not do anything. However, you’re instrumental in getting the person we need back to Basgiath.” He continues venomously.

You can’t help the look of confusion that must be all over your face. Who would come back to Basgiath for you? You weren’t from a family of riders. Most of them were just regular civilians living their lives. You were the only one in your family that felt the call to come to Basgiath, let alone become a dragon rider. Who did the Vice Commandant feel would come to rescue you?

Your look of confusion must have entertained Varrish as you watch a slimey smile cross his face, followed by a sneer of disgust painting your features. 

“Oh, I believe you are aware of the Lieutenant that I speak of cadet.” He drawls, continuing his manic pacing in front of you.

At that statement, the facts in your mind finally arrange themselves. For some reason, Varrish thinks Xaden will come back to Basgiath for you.

The look of disbelief that flashes in your face is followed by one of resignation. You’re going to die here. The repulsive man in front of you is going to torture and kill you and you can’t even stop him. Xaden is not coming to rescue you. He would never threaten everything for you. He has other priorities now. You’re just going to be another name on the death rolls.

The resignation hits you, along with the acceptance that you cannot break. You cannot betray Xaden, Bodhi, Garrick or any of your other marked friends, whether or not you were still part of their lives.

“You’re in for a surprise if you expect him to come here.” You spit out along with the blood that has continued to fill your mouth after the right hook to your face from Varrish.

“I’m not the one that will help you accomplish your goals; I believe you’re looking for a Cadet Sorrengail.” You continue even though every word causes pain to crash across your now broken jaw.

“And I think you are mistaken cadet. The cadre has noticed more than once the feelings Lieutenant Riorson seems to harbor for you.” Varrish spits back out crouching down and getting into your face.

“Besides, Cadet Sorrengail has not returned to Basgiath since her group of traitors stole from the Archives. Although, I will say we didn’t expect this much of a fuss from your dragon.” He snarks as he gets closer to your face. His putrid breath mingling with the damp smell from the holding cell and the fresh scent of your blood. Why did it seem like this was something they had planned all along?

Your breath catches at the mention of Cedri, you let a thought you hope he can hear cross your mind.

‘Thank you for being my dragon, Cedri. It has been an honor to be your rider. Please promise me you’ll live and find another worthy rider.’

You close your eyes and let your head fall back onto the hard wood of the chair you’ve been strapped to. You realize that the connection to Cedri has somehow been severed. They must’ve drugged you with the new concoction you had heard the second year’s talking about. 

Time seems to slow and even though you have accepted your fate, you can’t stop the excruciating pain that’s continually inflicted on your body. 

Gods how many days have I been in here.

The only thing you could do now was hold onto the last good memories you had and hope that your body would give up soon. 

It wasn’t helping that Varrish and his posse kept bringing up Xaden and opening up the wound that never seemed to heal from lost love. Couldn’t he just leave the one person that was an open wound out of the salt he continued to pour over your body in the form of kicks, punches, and broken bones. The physical pain was one thing you could handle, but the emotional torture seemed to be toying with your mind even more.

As you fade in and out of consciousness after enduring another day of torture, you can hear voices outside of the door to the chamber you’ve been held in. 

“We’ll need to move her tonight. The cadets looking for her are getting closer and we can’t punish them when we don’t have any ground on holding her here.” You hear a distinctly female voice comment.

“Of course, we have ground. I’m the Vice Commandant. I punish cadets as I see fit and this cadet is more than deserving of punishment.” You can hear Varrish spit to whoever the other voice belongs to. 

You can’t help the small light that ignites in your chest when you hear that at least someone at Basgiath has realized you are missing and is trying to get to you. The thought is short lived when the door swings back open and a black cloth bag is forced back over your head. 

You would scream. You would try to kick and punch. You would cry. But they’ve nearly torn all the emotions and reactions that you have in your body from you. You are exhausted. The small fire that someone is looking for you disappears when you feel your broken body being picked up and tossed over a shoulder. 

Suddenly you feel the temperatures around you are plummeting even colder. The slight dampness of the cell you were contained in before was nothing compared to the water you hear now steadily dripping somewhere onto a stone floor. The scent of muddy earth and moss intensifies as you feel the person continue down steps. 

You find yourself numb. This must finally be where I die you think. No one is going to find you this far down beneath, what you think is the fortress of Basgiath. 

How far down are you even? The frigid temperatures don’t help you when you feel yourself start to shiver, but it takes everything not to break down in sobs at the pain radiating from the shivers. You feel yourself getting tired. You don’t even think you can remember what the sun on your face feels like. 

You take a deep breath trying to calm the tightness that seems to be pulling in your chest. How much longer until you finally welcome me home, Malek? You can’t help but think as your vision begins to blacken from the blood that still seems to be pouring from the wound in your side. 

Gods. How many times will they make you do this before they just kill you. At this point, you can only feel that death would be a mercy.

Time begins to slip by again, torture, mending, more torture, more mending. You’re unsure of how many more times you have been tossed around as they move you from different areas so no one could find you, even if they tried. 

You are again by yourself in the dark. Your left eye has completely swollen shut from this morning’s punch to your eye socket. Your right eye isn’t much better, they must’ve shattered your cheekbone when hitting you with the iron cuff across your face this morning. But the worst pain must be the bleeding gash that has been torn across your abdomen. You can feel the wound still seeping blood as you take shallow breaths that seem not to be enough to keep your lungs functioning. 

This is finally it. You think to yourself, hoping that you can finally have the peace of blissful sleep as you slip into Malek’s arms. 

Suddenly you hear a commotion, the room you are in seems somehow to get even darker. You try to hold on, but oblivion seems to keep pulling at your consciousness. You hear distant voices, but you can’t make out the words they are saying. 

As you feel your head rolling back and your vision completely blacken, you hear the door bang open. You don’t even try to open your eyes as you know the only thing that the noise could possibly be is more torture heading your way. But before you completely lose consciousness, you could swear you hear a masculine voice breathe out your name in rage and panic.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­______________________________________________________________

You never thought death would have a smell. And you can’t help at the sarcastic huff that you think when you realize the smell is just like Xaden. Distinctly mint and leather. Why would Malek want to torture you for eternity? What great sin were you paying for?

You didn’t ever think that in death you’d be able to feel things either. You move your fingers slightly and are shocked to feel what seems to be soft sheets enveloping you. Its then that you realize that you still feel the haze of pain over your body. 

This must not be death. They only mended me again. 

You can’t help the disappointment you feel that you haven’t been set free from the chains of the torture you’ve been enduring. But confusion causes you to crease your eyebrows when you realize there is glorious sunlight dusting your eyelids. 

You slowly try to flutter your eyes open and are greeted with an even more shocking sight. You are in a bedroom, not in a damp cell any longer. You try to move your body, but you feel as if everything is still broken. So instead, you turn your head to the side and can’t help the breath that gets caught in your throat. 

There, in the chair next to the bed you’ve been placed in, is Xaden. His head is resting on his hand at an uncomfortable angle, but the thing that shocks you is the way his eyes seem puffy and red rimmed as if he had been crying. You follow the rest of his body and find that he also has his other hand draped on the side of the bed that was almost touching your hand. 

You continue to take him in a few more minutes, before he begins to stir and shift positions in the chair he is in. You watch as he begins to bring his head up, your heart rate begins to race at the thought of your eyes meeting his onyx ones. 

Finally, his gaze meets yours and you watch as his eyes widen comically before he is soaring from the chair and moving to the side of your bed and grabbing for your hand. 

“Y/N.” He says breathlessly, as if he thought he’d never be able to say your name again. 

He continues to stare at you wide-eyed, though you notice the purple that is smudged underneath his eyes. 

You continue to take in his rumpled form. From his hair that is completely disheveled to the sunken in look to his swollen eyes, this is a Xaden Riorson that you never thought you would see. He looks lost, shaken, and completely ready to fall apart. 

As the shock of everything begins to wear off, you start trying to push yourself from the bed. Before you can even sit up completely, your whole-body sags and you fall back into the mattress. An irritated grunt leaves you lips, but Xaden is worriedly moving closer trying to coax you to lay back down.

“Don’t try to move too much. Your body is still healing.” He rasps out. His voice sounding gravelly from disuse and emotion. 

He goes to move closer to you, but you flinch when you feel him coming closer at a rate that seems too fast. He sees and immediately tenses up. You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I – I’m – it’s just...” You trail off not really knowing how to voice the fact that you’re scared, although you know that Xaden would never hurt you. Your voice is dry, and you try to swallow to help coat your vocal cords. 

You bring your hand up to your neck and gingerly touch it, remembering the feeling of someone choking you until you couldn’t breathe and were about to black out. 

You can see the absolute sorrow that passes across Xaden’s face, but there’s also a look of absolute rage that flickers behind it. 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says while moving back to sit next to where your hand is. You watch as the man you know as so confident, seems to fiddle not knowing where to go or how to proceed. 

If it weren’t for the fact of what you’d been enduring, you would find the sight of Xaden being insecure as endearing. 

“Would you like some water?” Xaden asks hesitantly, now seeming like he doesn’t want to scare you too much. 

As you go to respond, your mouth feels too dry, so you shake your head in confirmation. You watch as Xaden slowly rises from the bed and grabs the cup of water on the nightstand not far from you. You try to sit up again but hiss in pain when you try to bend your abdomen. 

You look down to see an angry scar running across your stomach that looks to have been mended a few times. Before you can try again, you feel two strong hands lift you from you shoulders and set you up against the headboard. 

“Thank you.” You rasp out before gingerly taking the glass of water from Xaden’s hand. You bring the glass to your lips and close your eyes as you take a drink of clean water. It’s impossible for you to remember the last time you even had a drink of water, causing you to furrow your brows trying to figure out the day. 

You finally bring the glass down and look back up at the man perched on the side of the bed. You realize he’s been watching you carefully, seeming to try and take in every feature of yours that he can.

“Do you know how long I was held?” You choke out. Hoping that your voice doesn’t give away the fear that is still in your bones at being held captive again. 

You watch as Xaden’s face becomes even more sunken in, as if he is hating himself for some reason. 

“They had you for seven days.” He chokes out, not being able to hide the emotion taking over his voice. He takes a moment to settle before continuing.

“Bodhi got word to me by the second day, but I wasn’t able to get to you immediately.” You see the wetness that is starting to pool in his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t know what it felt like knowing you were there, and I couldn’t get to you.”

You watch as Xaden tries as hard as he can, but he can’t stop the few tears that seem to escape from his eyes. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Xaden.” You tell him, looking down as you don’t want to break yourself from all the emotions he’s shown today.

You feel him scoot closer on the bed and the next thing you realize; your hands are in his. It feels surreal to have someone else touching you and not causing you pain. You do everything you can to not completely tense every fiber of your body. It’s as if he can read your hesitance and he begins to softly stroke his thumbs over your knuckles. 

The action that is so achingly familiar causes you to close your eyes in comfort before looking up at him sadly. You try to hide the sad smile that steals across your face, but you can’t hide it when you find him bringing his hand to your chin to tip up your face. 

“It is my fault. Those fuckers were looking for me and used you as godsdamned bait. They deserved more pain than what they were given.” He says and you can feel the rage that crawls into his voice as if it is a living, breathing thing. 

“Are – are they still alive?” You ask, your voice sounding small and afraid. 

He tilts your chin up to him and holds it firmly in place looking at you directly in your eyes.

“No.” He says firmly, without hesitation. “They are all fucking dead. But, if I could kill them again, I would.”

You feel your body sag in relief at the news that those who inflicted all this pain are no longer alive. You feel two hot tears slide from the side of your eyes unbidden. You watch as Xaden brings up a hand to wipe both of the tears from your eyes. 

You take in the feeling that you are something precious to the man in front of you, relishing in the attention before you know you will need to give it up. 

“Thank you for saving me. I’m not sure how much longer I would have lasted.” You say, knowing that your body was the closest to death you had ever felt. 

“You shouldn’t be thanking me. You should hate me. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve been involved with me, that would’ve never happened to you.” He says getting frustrated with himself.

This time you stretch your hand to his face, and cup his cheek, running your thumb over his cheek.

“I could never hate you, Xaden.” You look at him with your eyes going soft. Even with everything you’d been through, you would never wish ill on him, knowing how much he has endured in his life.  

You drop you hand from his face and bring it back to your side. You feel exhaustion pulling you back down, knowing that your body is still healing. Not wanting to be more of a burden than necessary, you scoot back under the covers and bring the blankets back up. 

Looking back at Xaden and knowing him sitting here blaming himself is keeping him from his happiness, you can’t help the words out of your mouth.

“You can leave Xaden. You don’t have to babysit me, I’ll be alright.” You say even though the statement lances sorrow through your heart. 

He looks back at you and his brows knit. “I’m not here to babysit you. I’m here because I want to make sure you’re alright. I’m here because I care about you.” He says going to grab your hand again. 

Right before you are about to respond to him, the door pushes open and the sight before you makes every thought you had seconds ago crumble. Standing in the doorway is the silver-haired girl that started the whole mess you find yourself in now. 

Weariness now settles over your bones, and you turn you face away from the man that used to be your whole world. You turn to your side and close your eyes, hoping beyond hope that if you sleep, you will wake and the last week or so will be just a bad nightmare. 

You hear Xaden let out a long sigh and feel as the bed springs back up as his weight leaves it. You hear the door click shut and let out a ragged breath. 

Before you finally drift back into unconsciousness, you hear voices outside the door.

“What do you need Violet? I thought I asked you not to come up here unless necessary.” You hear Xaden reply tersely. 

“I’m sorry Xaden. But the Assembly asked me to come and get you. They are having a strategy meeting and requested you to be there.” You hear Violet explain.

“Couldn’t you have just asked through the bond?” He says with an annoyed edge to his tone.

“Well, I would have, but you’ve had me blocked out mostly since you’ve returned from Basgiath five days ago.” You hear her reply curtly.

Your mind not waiting to hear any more of the conversation, shuts off and you find yourself drifting back into unconsciousness. 

Weeks pass and you’ve found yourself trying to get back to your previous strength. It’s been weeks of light training with Bodhi and Garrick, along with nights that haunt you. Trying to gather some sort of strength from everything they had taken from you.

The next thing you know, it’s just another night where you find yourself awoken by the feeling of a hand clamping around your throat and feel the phantom pain of a sword ghosting across your abdomen. 

You awake with a start, sweat covering your entire body, your heart beating erratically. Luckily, you were smart enough to put a sound shield on the room you’ve been staying in, because your throat is hoarse from the scream that just tore from it. 

After what seems like an eternity, your heartbeat begins to slow, and you can take full breaths once more. 

Knowing that sleep won’t be finding you again any time soon, you wrap yourself in your flight jacket and close the door to your room softly behind you. 

As you descend the stairs from your room, you find yourself walking towards the hills that surround the fortress. Without questioning your steps, you continue up to one that you think will have an excellent view of the sunrise. 

You smile slightly to yourself when the memory of watching the stars until sunrise with Xaden crosses your mind. You thought that being in Riorson House would feel stifling, like you couldn’t escape the aura of Xaden. But, for some reason you don’t understand, the fortress feels like a warm blanket that can shield you from all the horrors that you’ve had to deal with since arriving at Basgiath. 

When you make it to the top of the hill, you can’t help the small gasp that tears from your lips at the beautiful view before you. Sinking down next to one of the large trees, you look over the small town that has been rebuilt below you and take everything in with awe. 

You always knew that Xaden and the other marked ones loved their homes, but it warmed your heart to see the work that they had put into helping others begin to put their lives back together. 

You take a deep breath and lean your head back against the tree, closing your eyes and enjoying the quiet sounds of the early morning. You’ll never take for granted the life around you, even though winter is coming, and the sounds are quieter, not after being held in that cell and being deprived of the world. 

 As you sit there in the stillness and enjoy the quiet, you feel your body begin to want to drift off, but the pop of a branch breaking brings you out of your calm. 

Quickly turning and jumping to your feet with your heart racing, you are surprised to see a familiar face staring back at you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says, his eyes sad and tone quiet.

“It’s alright. I – I’m still getting used to real life.” You say as you drop your eyes feeling ashamed for being scared of such small things. 

While your gaze is down, you hear footsteps as they cautiously come towards you until two booted feet are standing inches away. A hand comes up and three fingers gently bring your chin up to look into two onyx eyes. 

You don’t know why, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, seeming to search for something. 

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed for being afraid.” He says as his thumb strokes your cheek. “You’ve been through a lot. I just hope that you feel safe here.”

“I hope that you feel cared for.” He continues, although his words seem slightly hesitant.

You give him a small smile, knowing that if it wasn’t for the man before you, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the small things anymore. 

It’s as if that small gesture opens a dam for him and before you really can think his hand is cradling the back of your head to his chest and his other arm is snaked around your waist holding you close to him.  

You hear as he gives a small huff of a laugh before speaking. “Leave it to you to find the one spot in Aretia that’s incredibly special to me.” He begins.

You pull your head back slightly to look back at him and raise an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean ‘leave it to me’?” You ask.

He looks down at you, his eyes softening although he hasn’t let go of your waist. 

“You were always the one to figure out things I tried to hide, no matter how well I thought they were hidden.” He explains while giving you a small smile.

With that action and those words, you can’t control the smile that steals across your face and the way your eyes crinkle. One of the things about your relationship you always enjoyed was the small gestures and emotions he gave only to you. 

After a few moments of silence, Xaden breaks the quiet.

“Will you please let me explain everything to you? Please.” He says while now going to cup your face.

“You can decide what you want to do from there, but I need you to listen. Please. I miss you so fucking much.” He begs while letting the longing and sadness he’s feeling leach into his voice. 

The smile falls from your face, but you know that there is no way to completely avoid him or this conversation forever at this point. You take a small step back, but you can’t go far because of the firm hold Xaden has on your face. You give a small nod.

“Okay.” You say in a whisper, not trusting your voice to get any louder.

The strange rush of relief that crosses his face makes your heart beat a little faster. He drops his hands from your face and threads his fingers through yours before tugging slightly to have you sit down next to him.

When you’re both seated against the trunk of the tree where you were watching the sunrise, you turn to him to see him already watching you. He still hasn’t let your hand go, before he begins.

“I’ve had more than enough time to ruminate on everything that has happened between us over almost the entire last year. And I will never be able to make up for all of the ways that I’ve failed you.” He starts as his face falls to your intertwined hands that he has now brought into his lap. 

“I never once came to you to explain everything. It all started when Bodhi informed me that you had seen me kiss Violet.”

You don’t miss how he flinches at the revelation, though you’re unsure if it was because Bodhi told him or because he did it in the first place. With the painful reminder, your own heart falters again and you go to take your hand back, but he now has it held in a vice grip. 

“I shouldn’t have brushed you off. I should never have gotten involved with Violet. The kiss was a mistake that happened when we both were overwhelmed with the bond of Sgaeyl and Tairn not shielding. I know that doesn’t make it alright, that nothing ever will, but I want you to know that I’ll never forgive myself for that even happening. Especially when you were still the person I was thinking about.”

It's shocking to you how much of a dam that he must’ve been holding in because he can’t seem to stop talking. The next thing you know, he is explaining that both he and Violet got further involved because they were both trying to move past their previous relationships. Him with the reminder of you and everything that he had lost. And she with a relationship that she thought was always going to be part of her life.

As you listened, you realize that you both were just living in the hurt that you both inflicted on each other. Him for not realizing how much he had begun to pull away and not show the attention you deserved and you for not going to him and explaining how you were feeling. 

As he continued to fill you in on everything that has been happening in the past few months, you lean your head back on the tree and close your eyes taking in all the information. Soon enough, your ears are greeted by silence, and you pick your head up and open your eyes.

You turn to see Xaden staring at you seeming to take in your full form as if he’s a man that has been denied water for numerous days. He finally looks back into your eyes and all you see is a burning fight in them, as if he would never be able to part from you. 

“Do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?” He asks hesitantly as if he is afraid of the actual answer. 

You look back at him and of course your heart breaks looking at the hurt look on his face and the way he is so tentative with you. However, you know that it can’t just be that easy for either of you.

“I think maybe we could get there.” You say, your voice small as your own uncertainty shines through. 

You watch as his face crumples and sadness takes over the hopeful expression he had. Though it doesn’t stay around long. Soon enough, he sets his face in determination and looks back at you again. 

“Okay – Alright. I can work with that.” He says, setting his jaw as if he is getting ready for battle. 

He gets up and reaches his hand out for you. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

You take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers again, slowly guiding you back down the hill towards the fortress of Riorson House. 

Before you break through the doors, he turns to you, and you almost run right into his chest at the rate you had been following behind. His arm jets out to grab your waist and steady you before speaking.

“Will you train with me?” He questions looking at you with expectant eyes. 

“Sure.” You say with a slight hesitance. 

A smile breaks out over his face, and he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. Your eyes blow wide at the gesture, but he’s walking through the doors and pulling you with him again.

The next thing you know another month has passed and you can feel yourself finally feeling stronger again. Not to mention your friendship with Xaden has been growing stronger day by day. 

You start enjoying his company again and begin sitting with him and all his family during dinners, enjoying talking and laughing together. 

One night, you find yourself on the mats stretching, waiting to see who the sparring partner that will join you today will be. 

Soon enough, Garrick comes strolling through the door one of his charming grins plastered over his face. You give him a quick smile as you continue your stretching.

“Ready for a fight?” He quips.

“Of course.” You sass back at him.

“Well, you should be resting comfortably at least. You know since you have the biggest room in this damn house.” He jokes.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you pick up your head to look over at your friend. 

“What are you talking about? Why would I have the biggest room?” You ask in confusion.

“You mean to tell me you never noticed how much larger the room you’re in is compared to the rest of ours?”

You start to think about all the times that you’ve been in your friends’ rooms, especially those close to Xaden. All the rooms seemed spacious enough, but you had never realized how large yours was until now. 

“Why the hell would I have the biggest room? Shouldn’t Xaden? It’s his house.” You say confused.

You quirk your eyebrows when Garrick begins to laugh heartily and looks at you as if you haven’t realized what you’ve said. 

“He does have the largest room. He just hasn’t been staying in it.” Garrick explains.

Your brows stay furrowed for a few more seconds before realization dawns and your eyes widen in shock.

“Why the hell would Xaden give me his room?” You ask in shock and confusion.

“You should know the answer to that question.” He says back to you with a pointed look before continuing.

“You should know by now how madly in love that man is with you. When we finally were able to get to you and bring you back…” He starts while shaking his head seeming to recount the memory. “I’ve never seen him so crazed. Between the fact that it took days to make a plan and execute it so we could get to that room without too much resistance. Then getting you back to Riorson House, and you being so broken. I’ve never seen him like that. He wouldn’t even leave your side while Brennan mended you.”

You sit there staring at your friend as he continues to recount the story.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that he had to go to some Assembly meetings, he wouldn’t have left that room until you woke up. We had to almost spoon feed him and drag him to any meetings he was required at. Even then, he made Violet stay in the room with you while he was gone, because she can communicate with him directly. He wouldn’t let us do it because we couldn’t get information to him immediately.”

You shake your head slightly and drop your head. You can’t believe that you didn’t even know any of that, let alone realize you had taken over Xaden’s room. 

Before you can get yourself together, you see the doors of the sparring gym swing open again and Xaden walk in. You see him look up at you and smile, until he sees the look on your face. He seems to speed up the pace of his walk before he’s standing in front of you and Garrick.

“What?” He says with concern laced in his tone, looking down at you. “What’s the matter?”

You see Garrick look between the two of you and he smirks slightly before starting to walk away. 

“I think I’ll take my leave for right now.” Garrick says amusedly. 

You and Xaden watch as Garrick walks to the door, and it swings shut behind him. Xaden turns his head back to you and looks you in the eyes, concern still laced in his features. 

“What happened?”

“Why am I staying in your room Xaden?” You ask, pure curiosity in your voice.

You watch as his eyes widen, and his looks turn sheepish. He looks down at his feet and you’re shocked to see this intimidating man looking as if he was caught red handed like a child stealing a slice of chocolate cake.

“I – uh – wanted you to be comfortable.” He says, although you can sense there is something else he isn’t saying.

“Uh huh. Comfortable? And why exactly wouldn’t I have been comfortable in one of the other bedrooms of Riorson House?” You challenge, enjoying it too much when you see a flush grace the cheeks of Xaden Riorson. 

“Well – I mean – You would’ve been. But – “He continues stammering.

“But what Riorson?” You continue, enjoying putting him on edge. 

Your relationship has been getting stronger and Xaden has done nothing but prove himself day in and out. It’s with that knowledge you find yourself feeling a new sense of bravado, especially when you already have him off kilter. 

As the conversation has continued, you’ve slowly been bringing yourself closer to him. As he continues to look back at you sheepishly, you bring your hand and place it on his chest. You watch as the move continues to rattle him, and he swallows thickly.

With a mischievous smirk sneaking across your face, you leave rationale behind and continue to rise on your toes and place your lips to his. You keep your eyes open, just to watch his reaction and what you see makes you smile into the kiss.

First his eyes blow wide in shock and his body tenses, before you feel his arms snake around your waist and pull you flush against his chest. The next thing you know, his eyes have closed, and the kiss has turned into one of pure desperation. You follow, closing your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and spear your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

The kiss feels like a mix of new excitement and coming home. Too soon, you feel him slowing down the kiss and pulling back slightly. He places his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath, his gaze boring into your eyes, searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t voiced.

“What does this mean?” He asks breathlessly, before rushing to continue. “Please know I don’t expect anything, not after everything I put you through. But if there is any chance at all for you to be mine again, please know that I will not waste it.”

You stare straight into his eyes, searching to see if his words are the truth. Not seeing anything in his gaze but pure hope, you smile at him. 

“I’m yours.” You say to him and watch the most blindingly perfect smile spreads across his whole face. 

Not even a second later, you feel yourself being picked up and swung around in a tight hug. Xaden hasn’t even put you down before he’s crashing his lips back into yours, the smile he was wearing still tearing at his lips. 

“I promise that even though I may still piss you off and be an ass at times, I’ll never let what happened between us ever happen again. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go, never again.” He declares after you both finally pull apart. 

“Come on.” He says, pulling you by your hand.

“Where are we going? I thought we were training?” You say all while laughing at the antics of the man pulling you along.

“Fuck training. We’re going to watch the sunset on my favorite hill and I’m not letting you go for one minute.”  He says as he continues to pull you through Riorson House to the doors.

At that point, a smile of pure happiness settles across your face as you follow the man that has your heart out the door and into the endless possibilities that lie ahead. 

As he rests against the trunk of the tree with you wrapped in his arms against his chest and his head nuzzled in your hair, you can’t help but think this may be the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen. 

[taetaespeaks]

Ferrari Friends [CL16]

f1uptades

Liked by yourusername and 625 others

f1uptades Today, to pass time during their two weeks long break, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris and friend, Y/n Y/l/n went on a 2hours long stream on Twitch to talk and play some games.

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user1 Saw some clips on Twitter, they seem so fun to be around 🥲

user2 Are they all friends irl ?

user3 does y/n really need to go after all the drivers ?

user4 she.never.dated.any.of.them

user5 i could never be that strong

user6 fr

user7 y/n liked !!!

Liked by f1uptades

user8 She’s pretty and really down to earth ! I didn’t know she was like that, love her !

user9 her and Lando’s friendship >>>

user10 🤢🤢🤢

user11 i know she probably has a thing with Charles but i’m rotting for her and Max

user12 hello ?! he’s with kelly. meanwhile, lando is single 👀

user13 can you guys enjoy the sport and stop gossiping about people seriously ? you are the problem

user12 my bad gandhi won’t happen again

user14 Y/n being so bad at games gave me the confidence to stream again, thanks girl

yourusername don’t do me like that

y/ngirliesonly

Liked by yourusername and 342 others

y/ngirliesonly since we haven’t been blessed with y/n content in the paddock in a month, here are some three month old pictures of her in the paddock !

Tagged : yourusername

View all 54 comments

yourusername 🩷🩷🩷

Liked by y/ngirliesonly

user1 finally a fan page for my girl !

Liked by y/ngirliesonly

user2 i can’t believe it’s been five months since we’ve been blessed for the first time with y/n and charles content and still nothing has been announced

user3 why doesn’t she come to more races ?

user4 she’s not a wag and watching races doesn’t pay the bills

user5 hoping for more pictures of chary/n since it’s summer break 🥲🥲🥲

user6 Y/n and Lando >>>

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 254,217 others

yourusername summer with the girls (+ alex)

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landonorris we know damn well you’re not eating that salad girl

yourusername what the hell does that mean

user1 alex is one of the girls

Liked by yourusername

user2 wait did you guys see that ? 👀

user3 not charles liking and unliking the picture ?!👀

user4 are mom and dad getting divorced ?

user5 “mom and dad“ never were married

user4 neither were your parents, leave me alone

yourusername posted on their story

f1gossip

983 likes

f1gossip Seems like Charles tagged along with Lando and Y/n tonight ! 👀 Pictures just sent to me by DMs.

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user1 so they are still together ??

user2 they never dated omg 🙄

user3 it’s giving Joe Goldberg 🤩

f1wags

2459 likes

f1wags Charles Leclerc and Y/n Y/l/n last night in Monaco ❤️

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user1 Heart’s been broke so many times…💔

user2 OMG OMG ITS HAPPENING STAY CALM

user3 can’t be charles cause my man would never cheat on me

user4 FINALLY

user5 *throwing up* I’m so happy for y’all ❤️

user6 mama y papa

user7 heartbroken would be an understatement

user8 I’m at the same hotel Y/n stays at and I just saw Charles leave at like 7am…

user9 what

user10 did y/n leave with him ?

user8 No…

user11 He ditched her ????

user8 🤷‍♀️

masterlist - part 4(you’re here) - next

taglist : @a-beaverhausen @sltwins @imsiriuslyreal @taygrls @mahii7 @nebarious @ididntseeurbag @d3kstar @tinyhrry @ririyulife @bingussthirdtoe

[the-thing-withfeathers]

the archer’s arrow part 2 (w.a.)

are you hiding something?

part one | next part

a/n: teehee i am so sorry for the wait but i hope y’all enjoy this one <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood & death

➶ ➶ ➶

thwip!

it was your arrow, definitely your arrow.

“go! wednesday! go!”

and your voice, definitely your voice.

wednesday gasped awake, sitting up instantaneously. she gripped her chest, bunching the fabric of her shirt up into a fist. her head turned to look at her alarm clock.

she was awake ahead of schedule but she was grateful she woke up when she did. she immediately got dressed, the stomping of her boots lining the walls of ophelia hall.

she reached your room, knocking thrice before stepping back.

you were already dressed, today was an early practice day.

“wednesday, you’re early.” you tilted your head, stepping aside to let her in anyways.

“i value punctuality.” she lied. she was getting better at coming up with them in her efforts to try and hide her true intentions from you.

a bit of her looked disheveled, like she had rushed to get there. you noticed her braid a little out of place and her socks mismatched— both black but definitely not from the same pair.

“right. well, let me finish this and i’ll be ready to go.” you took to your chair at your desk, settling back down.

wednesday noticed that there were a couple of envelopes littered across your desk. you were in the process of writing letters.

“you’re writing.” she pointed out.

“yes, wednesday. thats something i can do too.” you joked back, she remained stoic.

“what are the letters for?” she inquired.

“mainly family but also for some of my friends at the academy.”

“i understand your family lives remote but surely your friends have phones?” she furrowed her brows.

“they do, but we think letters hold more sentiment.” you clarified, scribbling more words onto the piece of parchment paper you had aquired. “and it’s always nice to receive things in the mail.” you shrugged.

“i suppose you might be right.” she agreed. you were surprised to hear her validation.

her eyes followed the ink that your pen left behind. it caught her attention particularly when you drew a heart next to someone’s name on the envelope.

you sealed the letter and then proceeded to stand, grabbing your gear from your closet. you opened the door for wednesday, allowing her to exit first.

you two walked side-by-side down to the practice range.

“did you have many friends at the academy?” she asked as you exited ophelia hall.

“many? not many. but a good handful. they were all very kind. i would love to know them forever.” you smiled, reminiscing at the memories you shared with them.

“any more than friends?” she asked, not looking at you. you looked at her with your lip curled. at the back of your mind, you questioned her curiosity about your romantic life.

“who’s asking?” you retaliated, a smirk plastered on your face. you glanced at her only to be met with a glare. you knew you would certainly meet your end if you left the question unanswered.

“yes, wednesday. i had a girlfriend.” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. it was a bit of a sore spot, this topic.

but wednesday cared not for sore spots.

“what happened?” she pryed further. why was she pushing those buttons so much?

the memories of her rejection flooded through your brain. she had no right to ask these things. you remember how the look on your face was probably the single most heartbreaking thing most of your fellow students have ever seen.

“why are you asking about this, wednesday?” you practically hissed at her.

“i’m not going to take advantage of your practice times and not get to know you.” she spat back.

“you… hm.” you paused. “i never thought i’d be answering questions from wednesday addams. you’ve changed too.”

“so answer them if my question intrigue you so much.” she continued walking at your pace.

“fine. we split up because i wanted to come back and we couldn’t do the long distance.” you answered openly. “but we’re still friends. she and i were very close, she helped me through a lot.”

you continued to stride towards the forest as wednesday simply watched you. you had someone, but were fine giving it all up to come back. the feeling opened a pit in her stomach, if only you had known what she was hiding.

—

she had taken a liking to your routines in the wilderness.

“i purposefully try to miss.”

you had told her that was the closest thing you could get to immersing yourself into your environment. murder of fauna in the nevermore woods was frowned upon, so you had to learn control.

“isn’t that counter productive?”

she asked back, but you proved her wrong. your control was incredible. nicking a squirrel by the hair of its tail, she watched the focus on your face as you tried to ensure it’s life.

“it’s harder to hunt down animals and make sure they live rather than die.”

today, she sat with a notebook. she said she just wanted to focus on writing up ideas for her novel while you practiced.

it was like she was your body double, just a shadow that lingered around while you did your thing. somehow, it worked. you felt more productive and so did she…

if she was working on her novel.

her pen glazed across the yellowed paper on her notebook. the ink morphed into the image of your bow. on paper, your body was facing the trees, arm reaching for an arrow from your quiver. wednesday captured your physique, how your body flexed with every move you made.

thwip!

wednesday did not flinch.

but she nearly did.

an arrow lodged into the tree trunk, directly above her head.

“i can literally feel your stare, wednesday. you’re making me nervous.” you teased. her eyes grew dark at you.

“try that again and you won’t have fingers to shoot an arrow with.”

you couldn’t help but smile at her empty threat. you knew wednesday more than either of you thought. you knew that she wouldn’t take your fingers, they would stay with you.

you drew your bow again, pointing an arrow straight at her jokingly.

“try me, addams!”

the statement made wednesday’s head shoot backwards, her eyes clouding over.

“try me addams!” you yelled at her. you were younger. your cheeks were fuller, you hadn’t quite grown into your face yet.

but there you were, back then, the object of wednesday addams’ affection. but she could never admit that then.

you were on your back, pinned against the ground with wednesday on top of you. she remembers this fondly, she was trying to steal back her hairties that you had stolen as a joke.

you were laughing. it was the most joyous she’d ever seen you. she didn’t know how she was getting that reaction from you.

she was reaching as you held the ties above your head, swinging your arm around to make sure she didn’t get it. she was growing frustrated.

she groaned and drove two of her fists down into your chest, robbing your body of air. you coughed as a response and caved in, handing her the hairties.

“okay addams!” you choked out, sitting up to be closer to the girl. you laughed softly, coming face to face with her. “i just wanted to play a prank on you.”

“pranks are a waste of your time. you have better things to do.” she said, standing up. “you’re going to be late for practice.” she looked down at you. you remained seated.

“they’re not a waste of my time if it means i get to spend time with you.” you said, honestly. sure, you were mildly flirting but you were geniune. wednesday didn’t know how to process the admitted desire for companionship. she returned the sentiment, but it wouldn’t come out of her.

“i’ll come to your practice then.” wednesday said, putting the hairties in her bag. “i’ll sit there and wait for you.” she held her hand out for you to take so she could help you up.

you grinned up at her from where you were.

that grin, she would have killed for it.

“deal!” you jumped up excitedly, a proud smile on your face. you took her hand to stabilise yourself.

and it was then she got her first vision of you.

you were older now. definitely older.

you were still in the forest, holding wednesday’s hand just like how you were in the real world.

your bow was in your left hand, like you had just come from battle. blood was dripping down from your ears.

you had blood staining your shirt. and it looked bad. something most people wouldn’t be able to recover from.

and it flickered between the image of your eyes crickling from how huge your smile was and the sight of you donning crimson in front of wednesday.

“wednesday!” you cried out to her, catching her in your arms.

and then she was back to reality.

“wednesday!”

a vision of a future in a vision of the past? that was new for her. her powers might have been trying to tell her something— something more urgent.

she remembers leaving you alone at practice that day, taking back her deal to you. she had to sit alone and process.

three days later, she broke your heart.

“you still get those often?” you asked, sitting her down against the tree trunk.

“of course i do.” she snapped, her conscience pounding from the double vision she just had.

“sorry, stupid question.” you said, regretfully. you sat in front of her, still holding her back to steady her. “do you want to talk about it?”

she hated how you cared.

“no.” she shook her head. “it was just… nothing. nothing important.”

“you and i both know your visions have saved countless lives, wednesday.” the way you said her name had her head reeling. “is there something we should be worrying about?”

“no… no.” she waved you off, pushing you away. you sat there nonetheless.

“okay well… are you feeling okay?” you worriedly questioned her.

“i would feel better if you stopped asking questions.”

you recoiled, knowing it was best not to provoke her like this. her heart twisted at your concern, they made her feel almost guilty for pushing you so far away.

she had broken you down slowly, she knew that now. you poured your heart into your affectionate manner, it was something that scared her.

you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings and letting her recover from the vision. you were around when she first started getting them, you knew how badly they affected her.

she almost wanted to apologise, tell you that she was sorry for snapping. but she couldn’t let you get close again.

“we should go soon, lunch is in 30 minutes.” you spoke up first, breaking the peace. she simply nodded at you, helping herself up. you followed suit, yanking the arrow you had previously stabbed into the tree out and putting it back into your quiver.

➶ ➶ ➶

you sat across from wednesday. she recalled a time you would fight for the seat beside her, but instead, you filled the space next to yoko.

“you’re already thinking about the rave’n?” you asked enid, munching away at your food in between sentences.

“of course i am!” enid jumped up. “it’s our last year here! we need to think about these things!” she turned to you and grabbed your hands.

“and it’ll be your first & last rave’n back! we have to make it good!” she squeezed your hands. you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile.

“okay well, you’ll help me shop then.” you held your pinky up, which the blonde gladly took in her own.

“good! and you, wednesday?” enid turned to the shorter girl, tilting her head.

“my rave’n experiences haven’t exactly been pleasant, enid.” wednesday brushed her off. “maybe this is the year i skip out.”

“you shouldn’t. i would like you there if it’s my first one back and last one i’ll ever have.” you said, forgetting that such desires were usually turned down by wednesday.

but that was somehow enough to convince her.

“fine.” she grumbled, a contrast to the smile that was now stuck to your face.

“never thought that would be so easy. you must be the sentimental type, addams.” yoko commented. the mental image in wednesday’s head was her brutally bashing the vampire for saying that.

“do you know the theme?” you asked enid. the werewolf was finally asked to head the planning of the rave’n, she was perfect for the job.

“yup! since it’s halloween— we’re doing guts & gore!”

you swear you saw wednesday nearly crack a smile, this was right up her alley.

“and glitter!” enid added in, you were unsure if she was joking.

the joy on wednesday’s face faded slowly, you softly laughed at the change of expression.

“don’t worry, addams. i’m sure you’ll look fine bedazzled.” you joked, snickering. yoko laughed beside you.

she glowered at you, your smile persisted. did she no longer have an affect on you in these situations?

you really had grown.

“i would rather choke and die before covering myself in sparkles.” she took an angry bite of her food.

“don’t worry, wends, i’ll forgive you this once.” enid giggled. “gore is still your element, i’m sure it will be reminiscent of your first rave’n.“

“i heard about that.” you chimed in. “pig’s blood, right? maybe you can work with real blood this time, nobody seems to know the difference. and you’d probably enjoy that better.” you had said that almost too casually, it bothered her.

she was like an old book you hadn’t picked up yet still knew the insides and outs of.

“yes. maybe i will.” she answered briefly. you returned to your meal, finishing up and picking your bookbag up.

“gotta go, i have some botany homework to catch up on.” you said, turning to wednesday quickly. “did you want to join me for archery club later?” you asked.

she paused for a second, debating her answer.

“no, i can’t. i have homework i need to do in my room.” christ! why did she say that? she meant to say yes!

perhaps it was her defense mechanism, she wanted to keep you at arm’s length after what happened in the forest today. she needed some time to process.

“no worries. i’ll see you guys later!” you jogged off and waved as you left.

“is it weird hanging around her again?” yoko asked, she realised she hadn’t talked to wednesday about your return much.

“i suppose.” wednesday nodded. she had grown closer to yoko overtime, finding herself being honest towards her. “she’s changed a lot.”

“i mean, yeah. her entire environment changed in a whim. that makes you grow up.” yoko agreed. “you two seem to be getting along just fine.”

“indeed. but we can never go back to how we used to be.” wednesday tried to put up a front. “i’m sure she wouldn’t want that either.”

“given how you tore her heart in half last time you saw her? i wouldn’t put it past her.” yoko sighed, “but you can’t hold it against her forever.”

“i can and i will.” wednesday scoffed. yoko squinted at her.

“are you hiding something?” the vampire asked. yoko had an excellent talent for reading people, it infuriated the addams girl.

“no.” wednesday responded firmly, standing up abruptly and gathering her things. “i have to go. i’ll talk to you both later.”

enid and yoko shot each other worried looks.

wednesday stomped off to her room, a scowl evident on her face.

she hated this. all of it.

she hated that her visions were getting stronger, they were so loud that they were making her entire body hurt.

she hated that she would once again become responsible for saving someone, she was always thrust into the world of the weird. was it such a crime that she wanted some normalcy?

she hated you. she hated that she was forced to reject you in order to prevent your impending doom.

she hated you. she hated you for returning and making her feel things again.

she hated you. she hated that she was terrified of your death.

she hated you. she hated you. she hated you.

but she had to save you.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

okay i’m soooo sorry this took ages! and that this is relatively short! but i was in the middle of quitting my job and planning my christmas trip to see my family!

i’ll let y’all in on the reader’s powers more in the upcoming chapters but she is definitely a psychic!

i also am sooo excited for halloween!!! i’m going as wednesday this year and i also bought from the doc martens x wednesday collaboration so i’m so so keen on getting it in.

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter & hopefully chapter 3 will be out before you all know it!

kisses xx

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hi! so im obviously freaking out over Lewis winning his home race and i wanted to ask if you could make a one shot where y/n and lewis have been secretly together for a while but the public isn’t aware because she doesn’t really want to be in the public eye but she’s in the garage during the race and he kisses her when he wins after hugging his team

Angsty!! if y’all’s want a part two there will be one :)

If someone predicted that you’d be dating a formula one driver you’d laugh in their face and if they continued to tell you that it would be none other then Sir Lewis Hamilton you’d probably smack them in the head for being so cruel to you.

Well the funny thing is that you’d actually end up being a with a formula one driver who is none other than

Sir Lewis Hamilton.

Life had the perfect plans for you.

It was funny really how you two met.

It was a quiet night out in the outskirts of london just having been ditched from your old best friend and being forced to walk in the cold rain it’s safe to say you were not pleased in the slightest.

Feet trembling body shaking and hair wet which had you feeling like a drowned rat, you’d decided to be reckless and stupid and just walk home not knowing how it where home really was to you it seemed like the beginning of a murder mystery.

Not all hope was lost though that night way have started shitty but ended up with you finding your way to Lewis. His car had decided to make his life a little bit more difficult and had nudged you into the ground.

What started out as just making sure you were okay due to him feeling guilty ended up being a hidden relationship. your secret moments in crowded rooms they had no idea about you and him.

There was always an indentation in the shape of him, he made a mark on you a golden tattoo.

Never had you ever thought that you would have been in a hidden relationship with Lewis Hamilton.

Fate had never been on your side especially in your love life. Having endured both emotionally and physically abusive relationships you were at your wits end with men. But Lewis was different, everything he did for you was filled with so much love thought and care more than you were ever given in your life.

He knew all your favorite books he knew all your favorite movies flowers destinations.

On multiple occasions he had ended up showing up with flowers at your door simply because he wanted too. Maybe your luck truly had changed when he walked into your life.

You knew how talented Lewis was purely based on his impressive ability throughout the years. You were always yearning to see it live though.

It was a year into your hidden relationship when you had first brought up the idea of coming to a race with Lewis and he had quickly dismissed the idea saying that the fans wouldn’t be nice and he loved the little bubble the two of you were in.

You really hadn’t thought much into what he had said brushing it off as Lewis wanting to protect you more than anything.

You just booked the flight without a thought in the world simply wanting to be there and see your man in his absolute best.

It was nagging in the back of your mind as you knew Lewis wasn’t one for a public relationship but you really wanted to show the world that Lewis Hamilton had finally settled down.

In a haste decision you packed up all your bags and decided to show up at the Silverstone Grand Prix.

Just something about finally pulling this off made you feel giddy on the inside.

Silly you, little did you know that you were jumping headfirst towards the eye of the tornado brewing ahead.

Now, many would find Lewis being a level head person someone who had finally calmed down and not as fiercely competitive as they used to be. In reality he was further from that. Mercedes really were horrible this year, Lewis hadn’t won in over a year.

A win in silverstone prior to leaving Mercedes would have just been legendary. Out of a fairy tale.

Things were not looking too good and that must have played heavily into Lewis’s mind and made him react the way he did when he saw you all smiles and giggles hands over his eyes waiting for him in his drivers room.

Any normal person would have been surprised and thrilled to see what they called their love of their life wanting for them in their room.

No one honestly knew what snapped in Lewis.

It was the added pressure of seeing his favorite person seeing him fail.

Lewis had a routine. Horrible race - Interviews- Anger- Meditation- Your time.

But you showing up had ruined that routine and had lead to Lewis’s snapping.

When you first saw his blank face you just thought that he was taking time to register the fact that you were right there with him. it wasn’t.

Something blazed in his eyes and it wasn’t love or the dark desire he normally had.

It was anger.

He’d snapped at you harsh and cruel.

Lewis muttered words that he would have never dreamed of saying to you.

Something along the lines of

“you know I am under immense pressure ”

“why couldn’t you have just listened to me and stay put. ”

“This is fucking stupid why are you so inconsiderate.”

“I already have enough to deal with I can’t be there to coddle you when the fans get to you y/n.”

“so fucking sensitive why are you crying now?”

“I can’t deal with you being here let alone the media seeing you? I didn’t need you here to ruin everything”

“it’s my home Grand Prix I need to focus on the fans and not you”

Those words broke the already broken parts of you. He didn’t recognize how shattered you looked. All he registered was that you had gone against his word and had showed up. He hurt you even when he told you no he begged you he wouldn’t.

That’s how he had left you alone in his drivers room hurt and embarrassed the mechanics had picked up on the tension in his room and had just given you a sad smile offering to take you back to your hotel room so that you could have some time off.

Now on Lewis’s side this anger and storm he had just started would force him to drive the best race of his life almost for redemption of his poor behavior.

[britcision]

My other lil bit of Halloween fun is technically not ready yet but in the spirit of “I want to go to bed”, y’all can have an unpolished lil early snack! And I’ll try and get the good one up over the weekend!

So sit back, relax, and enjoy the Dead And Loving It Halloween Special, The Haunting Of Hood House! (Most of part 1…. Part 2 possibly next year I dunno)

——————

The Haunting of Hood House

Honestly, Jason was fully aware he shoulda said no. Between his now-triple life as a crime lord/vigilante, Fright Knight to the ghost king, and now university student, his dance card was full for more than just every hour in a day.

He was a busy bee. Probably shoulda given university another year or so, to be fair, but that was just the thing. Before all this ghost stuff came along, he’d figured he finally had time for a second half to his life; it was why he came back into the public eye at all.

He hadn’t gone in for the summer semester, counting on the tabloids being a whole ass thing (and they were), but he’d figured that getting himself announced at the New Years gala would give plenty of time for stuff to settle down so he could go to university in the fall.

And then, on Christmas day, he’d met Danny. And his life gained another side whether he liked it or not. And it had been too late to walk back the gala by the time he realized just how time consuming it would be.

(On the plus side, his ghost training was coming along well enough that it was finally helping him cut down on time spent on the crime/vigilante side. He wasn’t exactly up to ol’ Halloween’s standards yet, but he had full control of the powers he currently had, and was learning more about being a Fright Knight from the man himself.

They’d even had time to plan and make a run on their first Lazarus pit, which had gone… as well as could be expected.)

The point being? His schedule was full. Between homework and crimework, he didn’t have time for fun university extracurriculars the way he’d kinda hoped he would.

But when some of the geeks from his Gothic Lit class asked him to help them set up a haunted house… how the hell was he supposed to say no to that?

Danny sure as hell hadn’t been able to (and had laughed his ass off when Jason mentioned exactly why he had to reschedule one of their hangouts - after all, the two of them just showing up meant that the house was technically being haunted), which was how they’d roped in a couple more kids from the engineering department. At least three were planning to use parts of the set up as their final projects.

(Harper was having a field day rigging all of the floors for piezoelectric lights, sound, and fog machine. The more people jumped or ran, the more dramatic the atmosphere would get.)

So, despite already having basically no free time, he and Danny were now partially responsible for setting up a haunted house.

Jason was pretty sure his classmates had initially wanted him mostly as financial backing; ten minutes after agreeing to help, he’d been shyly approached with links to a set building company and day rates to have them build a “house” on the university grounds.

Jason Todd himself would be damned if he would just be the money man though. No, he wasn’t having his name attached to a haunted house project that wasn’t the best it could possibly be.

And, well, he had access to a lot of surplus construction supplies and actual local handymen, in the form of his gang. He was pretty sure most of them knew that Jay, Red Hood’s right hand man, was Jason Todd Wayne by now; it had never actually come up, but he’d made a few media splashes.

No one seemed actually confused or surprised to be asked to come put up haunted house on university grounds. Just the shell though; Jason demanded integrity from goons and student body both, and firmly told the rest of the Lit class that if they wanted to throw a haunted house, they were bloody well going to decorate and staff it with their own hands.

(About two people had been disappointed. As soon as he’d admitted he’d also footed the bill for supplies, all the rest had been eagerly battling it out over room themes and who got to use the nail guns.

Jason confiscated the nail guns on day three, after Danny and Harper got into a “nail fight”. Because of course they did.)

And, really, most of them had also taken Danny’s “contributions” well too. Because along with the more normal special effects the other engineers was setting up, Danny was serious about putting the “haunted” in the house.

“It’s an ecto-accelerator,” he’d explained cheerfully, slapping the large, chunky device that Jason knew full well was at least three blenders jammed together with car parts. “Gotham’s got a lotta ambient ecto for a normal city, so we’ll get half a dozen blob ghosts by the end of the week.”

A couple of the Gothamites in the group had tittered a little at Gotham being called “normal”, but one or two (the ones Jason happened to know were doing way better in their classes) had looked thoughtful. Slightly suspicious.

Cuz yeah, sure, Gotham was far from normal in almost every way, but most of the people were still unaware of how serious the “occult” menaces to the city were. It certainly wasn’t “the most haunted city in America”, and while the Danny/Phantom secret was still well under wraps, Danny being from Amity Park wasn’t.

He’d made waves in the engineering department from his first solo project, and honestly none of them looked too surprised any more.

One of the Lit geeks had raised a hand like they were in class, which Jason had bullied Danny about for hours.

“Uh… what are blob ghosts? And do we want them? Like… isn’t that cheating if you have actual ghosts? I thought you guys wanted to build effects systems,” they added quickly, glancing from Danny to Harper.

Danny had stared blankly for a moment (possibly from the hand raising), then shook his head.

“Oh, no, the accelerator was my project from last semester. This semester it’s gonna be the ghost shield which keeps all the blob ghosts trapped in the house!”

(And should keep the Curse and the asshole entity locked out and away. Not necessarily, y’know, necessary, but it’d be good to see if it worked.)

Harper had just grinned, hands in her pockets.

“An’ it means I have to build my stuff more than just people-proof, which has gotta be worth bonus points.”

Their other two engineers had agreed, apparently completely down with the occult at this point.

The formation of the blob ghosts was apparently going pretty well. Jason couldn’t reliably sense them yet, but he trusted Danny’s word on it.

And Fright Knight’s.

Because yeah. That. Was a thing that was also happening.

This one was also entirely Jason’s own fault; back at the beginning of October, when he’d first agreed to this whole mess, he’d had to tell people why he was going to be busy.

And. Well.

It made sense at the time to just tell the elder Fright Knight the truth about why they’d had to shift their training schedule. He was the Spirit of Halloween! It was even thematically appropriate!

And frankly, the speed at which Danny had started shaking his head and trying to stop him should probably have been a warning.

But so would telling Jason ahead of time not to tell Halloween that they were going to be working on a haunted house! Danny had even shared the story of the time he stole the original nightmare blade, the Soul Shredder as a prop for his own school haunted house!

And, y’know, incurred Halloween’s wrath and started a whole Thing, but he’d also given the sword back and all seemed to be forgiven now.

(Although. Given. The look in blazing eyes when Danny mentioned it. Not forgotten.)

And it seemed to go fine at the time, so Jason had kinda figured it was just another of those things where Danny was weirdly protective of his “normal” life. Didn’t want ghosts getting involved.

Cuz Halloween was very supportive. Agreed immediately to switch up their schedule, no muss no fuss. Offered to help.

And Danny had refused outright, which obviously made Jason want to agree. And Danny hadn’t actually said why he didn’t want Halloween to help.

(Which, y’know, the guy was right there, but still.)

His arguments had basically boiled down to “no one’s supposed to know I’m the Ghost King, we can’t have the actual Fright Knight following me around”, which was apparently the argument that had carried to keep Frighty from following him to Gotham.

But neither of them had known Jason then. And Jason was a Robin; they were very good at loopholes.

Because really, it wasn’t all that hard for an actual ghost to go undetected. Especially if they only popped in for short visits.

And could there be a better haunted house consultant than the Spirit of Halloween?

“Sir Jason, yon webs are sagging.”

The answer, it had turned out, was yes.

“My liege, real blood would serve much better…”

Almost. Anyone.

“BEWARE!”

And apparently the Box Ghost had overheard somewhere that Danny was now allowing visits to Gotham, on the dual condition of short duration and invisibility.

Snatching the box of tiny robot spiders before it could be dumped out, Jason glared at the spot Pitty was growling at.

“Boxy, seriously. We talked about this!” He hissed, wrapping both arms firmly around the box.

A few plaintive tugs, and then the Box Ghost gave up. On that box. And another five cardboard boxes of supplies rose into the air.

“FEAR THE POWER OF THE BOX GHOST!”

“Once the damn house is finished, Boxy! There’s still stuff in all of these. Didn’t I promise to build you a box fort if you could just be cool for another week?”

A blue, capped head popped into visibility behind one of the floating boxes. He did, at least, look mildly contrite.

“Indeed you did, young knight… but! The Box Ghost needs no assistance! There are none more ferocious nor powerful in the world of objects cardboard and cubular!”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

“That’s not even a word, Boxy…” and paused when another breath froze on its way out of his mouth.

So did the Box Ghost, floating boxes stilling from their orbit of the room. Almost on reflex, he popped into full visibility just as Halloween did, directly behind him.

The Box Ghost turned slowly, peering up at the much larger armoured figure. Fright Knight narrowed blazing purple eyes down at him. The Box Ghost narrowed his back.

“None. More. Ferocious.” He growled, boxes rising slowly around him.

Halloween put his hand on his sword.

Jason pressed his lips together so he didn’t laugh. Fighting in the living world was currently a Danny-only activity, with Halloween having the only exception - to stop anyone else trying to start trouble. Technically, throwing down over who was scariest with the Box Ghost was not covered.

And, really, not all that much of a question. Even Boxy knew it, deflating as armoured fingers curled around the hilt.

“But in matters of Halloween and frightfulness I will concede,” he grumbled, boxes settling gently back to the floor.

Halloween pointedly turned his attention to Jason instead, who was still very specifically not laughing.

“Young knight, the woman “Harper” has once again weakened your electrical traps. Shall I destroy her, or will you deal with this yourself?” He asked, voice dropped below his usual booming tones only because Danny had sworn to send him back if another student caught him.

Amusement dying almost immediately, Jason rolled his eyes.

“Look, Sir Halloween. We’ve been over this. They’re hers, they’re not death traps, and you shouldn’t be touching them. You know how Danny feels about electricity around his tech.”

A lot of ghosts seemed to know how Danny felt about electricity in general, and how it related to his death. Despite a temporary team up with Vlad, Jason didn’t actually know if the Spirit of Halloween was one of them.

Until it was proved one way or another, or Danny brought it up to the ghost himself, Jason was sticking with plausible deniability.

And the Fright Knight huffed, drawing himself up as his flaming hair flared.

“If the mere existence of such a trap may displease the King, she should be destroyed with all the more vigour!”

Showing irritation never worked with the old knight; for one thing, he couldn’t stop himself from escalating. He just couldn’t. He didn’t know how to back down.

Luckily Jason was more than used to dramatic and boisterous hotheads. He folded his arms instead, raising an eyebrow at the Fright Knight.

“She’s building the power system, Sir Halloween. We talked about this, remember? Using the steps and fear of the guests to power Danny’s stuff?” And the entire rest of the house, but Frighty only cared about Danny.

And had been over this with him and Danny both half a dozen times.

As always, the mention of fear perked him up.

“Ah, yes! Using their own terror against them to power our devices! And… how does that relate to the electricity?” He asked, a little suspiciously.

Well, if he paid attention this time Jason might not have to go through it again. Putting his reclaimed box down, he leaned against the table it had been on.

“It’s called piezoelectricity. Harper’s sensors in the floor detect where people are walking, and the receptors take the extra energy when their feet hit the ground and turn it into electricity. The faster they walk, or if they start to run, the more energy gets converted, and since the electricity powers the lights, sounds, and fog machine, the more people react the more intense the house gets.”

It was actually surprisingly harmless for Harper; she hadn’t even put in any of the small shock plates that had found their way across the floors. That had been all Frighty, and as soon as they found out where he’d gotten them, they’d be going back. Once Danny phased them back out.

Silence reigned for a long moment, and for once the Spirit of Halloween seemed to be really chewing over and digesting this information. Jason let himself hope.

“So… the electricity… it’s definitely not for shocking the unwary intruders?” Halloween asked, with just the faintest tinge of hope still in his own voice.

Fighting not to let his die, Jason shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Not even as a backup plan?”

“Nope. We want people to come and visit, Frighty, that’s the whole point.”

“But what if your enemies use this opportunity to infiltrate your stronghold?” Fright Knight asked boldly, drawing himself up like he was even now standing against such foes.

Jason bit back a grin.

“It’s not a stronghold, Sir Halloween. There’s nothing here they could use against us.”

Silence again.

Then.

“Not even just a little shock?”

“Still nope,” Jason shook his head, arms folded. Safely hiding where his fingers pinched the skin just below his ribcage, holding in a laugh.

Fright Knight was practically pleading.

“Just a small one? A little static shock? They probably won’t even die from it,” he wheedled, and Jason had to stifle a snicker in a cough.

“No! Look, most people will be wearing rubber soled shoes anyway. They wouldn’t even notice,” he pointed out in what was a mostly level voice.

Fright Knight huffed, turning away and grumbling under his breath.

“Rubber can be made to melt…”

Aaaand they were back on that again. Stepping forward, Jason caught him by the shoulder, schooling his face to his most earnest expression.

“You know your advice is always appreciated, Sir Halloween, and the king and I take it very seriously. Should we ever need such traps, you’re the very first person we’ll ask. But this is a diplomatic venture, and chivalry demands we not allow harm to come to our guests.”

It was a line they’d used before; the very first explanation Jason had hoped the bombastic ghost might understand. And he did, usually.

He just. Didn’t seem to remember it. But then, he wasn’t exactly the overly chivalrous kind of knight.

And once again, Halloween drew himself up and pounded on his chest, nodding seriously.

“Of course, Sir Jason! And I shall ensure that this venture of yours is of the utmost success! With no traps that shall interfere with the Harper woman’s electronics,” he added in a low grumble, probably hoping that Jason wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t just said “no traps”.

Again. Former Robin.

Buuuut so long as they turned the traps off before guests showed up, there was no reason he couldn’t ask the other Bats to come do a pre-show run through and see what they made of it.

Pretending to be oblivious, he turned and scooped up the power drill he’d originally come to the storeroom for and saluted the ghost with it.

“Always appreciated, Sir Halloween.”

**

Danny stuck his hand through the wall, brows furrowed in concentration. He could have used the panel about three feet further down, but then he’d have to reach around at an awkward angle, or yank cables to pull the bundle closer.

Honestly, in his plans the circuitboard should have lined up near perfectly with the damn panel; he’d done his measurements and everything before he started! But no, it was all the way over here, and now he had to deal with this

It was almost like something had snapped off the supports and tangled all the wires up…

There were more cables than there should be.

Again.

No, wait, the intruder wasn’t a cable. It felt… like a rope?

Fighting the urge to bang his head against the wall, he sighed heavily. The temptation to just yank the damn thing out was tempered only by the sounds of construction, impromptu karaoke, and occasional screams of every other member of the project.

Who knew what Fright Knight had rigged this one to do, or where it would actually go off? Other than, y’know, completely fucking his own wiring.

Danny breathed out slowly through his nose, shifting his grip until he was only touching his wiring and not the rope, and phased the whole lot through. He’d turned almost everything off to go wire-spelunking anyway, so it should-

A loud thunk behind him preceded a sudden silence where a low humming had been pretty much ignorable. Danny grimaced, but kept going until the junction was back in place at the access panel before letting it rejoin the physical world.

The ghost shield didn’t immediately power back up, but that was fine. He could give it a couple kicks, maybe try a hard reboot if it was really fussing.

More importantly, he had to find what the hell the Spirit of Halloween had done now. His ecto-accelerator was working as expected, and blob ghosts would all be kept around to feed on the concentrated ectoplasm anyway.

Really, he’d been shutting the shield down anyway to let Halloween in and out.

Maybe he should stop doing that…

Then Danny brightened up.

It was Jason’s fault Halloween was here at all. And it was Jason’s class’s haunted house.

This wasn’t a Danny problem, this was a Jason problem. And maybe next time the stubborn fuck would listen when Danny said something was a bad idea.

Humming cheerfully, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent off a quick text, wandering idly back towards the ghost shield generator. One quick kick and it chugged back into life, good as new.

He was gonna have to put some internal batteries in on the next rebuild though. It had to be able to survive a power cut to be worth anything in Gotham.

Flicking into his notes app, he added it to the list of improvements.

While he didn’t actually know where Jason was, he was pretty sure he wasn’t close enough to hear Jason’s response to his text. That was fine though, because he could feel the pulse of exasperated-resigned-annoyed the second he saw it.

Humming happily to himself, he dug out the extra set of cords to let the lights dim in time with any power surges from the ghost shield. It’d only take a few seconds now that the damn board was back in the right place, and should add some extra spooky ambiance once the house started seeing guests and he turned off the accelerator to let the blob ghosts play.

Really, he owed Harper for the idea. He’d been explaining to her how the little guys always chewed on power cables, lack of physical teeth or not, just to get to the current. And technically what she’d actually said was “man it’d be cool if we could get them to fuck with the lights”.

And technically Danny could probably have trained them to actually play with light switches. This would be much easier though, and interestingly random as the blobs bounced around.

All he had to do was hook up these last few connections… and test it out.

And since Halloween was clearly around anyway… he was definitely big enough to make the ghost shield hum a bit. That’d be great for calibration.

And he owed Danny for fucking up his circuitry with his latest booby trap anyway. It all worked out nicely really.

By the time Jason poked his head through the door, Danny was just finishing the last of his adjustments, almost every wire properly soldered into place.

“What’s he done now?” Jason sighed heavily, exasperation both so clear and so clearly a put on that even a normal human would probably feel it radiating off him.

Danny nodded towards the stretch of wall near where he’d last seen the rope.

“No idea, but he’s tied something to something else that got in the way of the ghost shield controls. I fixed that, the inevitable booby trap is all yours,” he added sweetly, blowing Jason a kiss as best he could with both hands busy.

Jason pretended to chomp it out of the air like a shark, and then puke it out. He was getting creative.

Danny could respect that.

“Great, thanks,” he said sarcastically, then frowned at the offending section of drywall. “Is there-“

“No, the access panel is over here,” Danny told him brightly, twisting the last screw down to hold all of the less permanent wires in place. Really, at some point he should probably put a casing over the whole mess. Keep any damp or curious critters out.

But any curious critters were going to be a little busy avoiding curious ghosties, and the ghosties wouldn’t try and move the wires. That’d stop them from being able to siphon the electricity.

Little fuckers.

Maybe also some extra ghost shielding. Hell, the power going into the shield was controlled from this panel, and the main power cables were nicely strung along the back. How hard could it be to extend a little extra shielding…

Jason cut him off from the thought with a heavy, dramatic sigh, thunking heavily into the wall just beside Danny.

“Great. We got time to take another panel out and fix it again?” He asked semi-redundantly, taking in Danny and Heather’s carefully applied pattern of sprayed on filth and decay.

Grinning and straightening, Danny cracked his back and moaned happily.

“In your dreams. Halloween’s a week away, and we open this weekend.”

“So how do you want me to track the trap, your majesty?” Jason asked with a heavy roll of his eyes.

Danny grinned up at him. All the brighter for the sass.

“Oh, that’s not my problem. I’m not the one who said he could be such a huge help,” he shot back cheerfully, taking the moment to roll out his shoulders and do a couple of twists too.

He spent a lot of time hunched over between classwork and this little side quest, and while he wasn’t suffering for it yet, he’d rather not start.

“Besides, do you have anything else to do?” He pointed out with a cheeky grin.

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, arms folded.

“About a million things, yeah. But none more important than making sure our guests don’t get electrocuted,” he added with a sigh, turning to frown at the wall. Reached out and knocked against it gently. “Wish I could just bring the hood out.”

“A little x-ray vision would be a big help,” Danny agreed, already looking for his next task. Would he have time to fuck with the ghost shield a little more to protect the board?

Probably not. While the machine itself was already doing excellent work as the centrepiece of a truly excellent mad science lab (although not up to Fenton standards), it still needed a quick coat of grime of its own, and probably some webbing.

Most of the rest of this room was ready, between Harper’s piezo-floors and Heather’s expert spray paint skills. So long as the shield could affect the lights throughout the house, he could probably finish here in half an hour.

Or delegate to Heather, once all the parts of the ghost shield were safely protected from rogue spray.

Danny could have run by the 3D printers in the Makers Club for some custom shielding pieces, but why bother? Leaning into his toolbox, he pulled out a roll of duct tape.

Glancing back, he was pleased to see Jason’s quiet was because the big guy had already stuck his head in the wall.

Sure, officially no one here was supposed to know about either of their ghost powers (Harper being the obvious exception), but no one was around. And it’d save time dismantling the trap so they could get back to work.

The Lit nerds had come up with the full floor plan by themselves, and while only a couple of them got nail gun privileges, they’d all been excited to get hands on.

And had clearly been relying on their giant tank of a nerd for some of the more hard to reach set up.

Danny could get it floating, or they could schlep ladders around, but why bother when Jason could reach the top of every doorframe already?

Once Jason was done dismantling yet another booby trap.

Reaching out with a foot, Danny gave him a light kick in the ass, knocking a shoulder into the wall.

“Dude, just go invisible and trace it directly. Painting’s gotta be finished tonight to be dry for tomorrow,” he reminded the larger man when Jason pulled his head out to glare at him.

“Such insightful. Very wisdom,” he snarked, straightening himself and returning said glare to the wall.

Danny snickered.

“I’ll tell Tucker you’re after his Miette status.”

“I’ll tell him you called him that again,” Jason shot back immediately, flipping Danny off without looking.

Touché.

Rather than concede the point, Danny got back to his own efforts instead. Time to tape up any cracks and crevices except the heat vents… and yeah, actually, putting a suitably ratty bag or strip on linen to cover those (both for spray paint protection and to flap dramatically) would only add to the atmosphere.

“Just get going while we’re still young and pretty.”

He could feel Jason’s amusement too, a warm balm on his back even over the exasperated-tired-over it from Fright Knight’s continued escapades. Felt it when Jason changed, his aura amping up automatically with his ghost form.

“Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you get your subject in line and remind him we’re not trying to kill anyone?” Jason asked, immediately phasing through the wall to get the last word.

Danny rolled his eyes despite the grin, carefully taping around the joins in the main control panel.

“What, again?” He muttered under his breath, chuckling softly.

As far as he was aware, more than half the problem was that ol’ Halloween wasn’t actually all that clear on what was lethal to humans at all. And that? That wasn’t a problem Danny could solve.

Technically, he could Command the spirit to stop putting up booby traps. Force him into an advisory role only.

(And yeah, Danny had to admit, for all he was a pain in the ass? He’d been right about adding a couple extra googly eyes in covert spots on the bubbling slimes. Super creepy when one rolled up and looked at you.)

Except that Danny hated using his Command on anyone, even when they were being a pain in his ass. It was creepy, kinda gross, and made him feel like a dick.

Besides, with ghosts it was actually way politer to just smack someone upside the head if they were being a shit. Hell, that was usually why they were being a shit.

Danny hesitated, a new thought blooming slowly.

Could… that be why Halloween was being a pain in the ass? Jason’s training hours had been cut back, but their time spent with the original Fright Knight was actually going up now that he was “helping” with the house.

Did he just want their attention? Or was he bored enough to fish around indirectly for a little ghostly rumble?

That would also have to be Jason’s problem, he decided with a philosophical shrug. Like most of the other older ghosts, the old Fright Knight actually avoided throwing down with Danny these days.

Whether it was the same fear that made him bend the knee to Pariah Dark or just plain not wanting to risk even a temporary win and the burden of the crown didn’t actually matter. It wasn’t loyalty; Halloween had been eager enough to bend the knee to Dan, but Dan also commanded him to run around wreaking terror and mayhem.

Danny mostly just asked him to wrestle with any ghosts who tried anything in Amity Park while he was gone; a duty Halloween kicked ass at and seemed to be taking seriously, but wasn’t his idea of fun.

But hey, it got him out of his pumpkin, and out of his lair without the fear of someone trying to seal him again. So long as Frighty mostly obeyed Danny’s orders, no one could even try it without having Danny come kick their ass.

Maybe Danny should let him wreak a little havoc in Gotham on Halloween though. As a treat.

Not his usual “turn inanimate objects into hordes of ghosts to take over the world” shtick, but since Scarecrow usually had dibs on the holiday (and was still decidedly out of action), some of the up and coming rogues were looking to make a name for themselves.

A not particularly nice smile pulled at Danny’s lips.

After all… apparently no one else had ever tried anything on Halloween while Crane was out and about. It could only be a good thing for Gotham as a whole if someone else staked an emphatic claim this year.

Aaaand it’d keep Frighty out from under their feet, or setting up any more booby traps while they got the last details into place.

If any of the bats objected, they could take that up with Jason too. After all, this whole thing was his idea.

**

The Spirit of Halloween drifted through the house, muttering disconsolately to himself.

All he wanted to do was what he’d been asked; to improve this “haunted house” his king was constructing.

It was certainly a better effort than the one which had first brought the ghost boy to his lair; that had been a single room, and a rather pathetic showing. Bouncy spiders, inflatable figures, utterly unfrightening.

This house had some real potential! Between the elaborate traps the humans were setting in each room and the far more convincing decor, it would be so easy to make something truly terrifying.

All it needed was some more sharp edges… something a little heavier to hang above the doors… and while apparently electrical traps were out of the question, he was sure that something horrific could be done with those powered floors.

Possibly an eject port. Those were new and the potential fascinated him ever since the doctors Fenton showed off their new flying seats.

If the king would only give him a chance, Halloween was sure he could turn this building into a true House of Horrors.

But no. Once again, his ideas were discarded. They would undo his modifications to the floor (and frankly he was rather pleased with how he’d managed to warp its purpose without transforming it into an independent entity; he’d needed to make use of young Sir Jason’s “phone” to learn to adjust the voltage the human way. He’d used his hands and everything because the king did not want him using his blade).

Honestly, why would you invite such an expert if you did not wish to use his advice?

And he wasn’t even supposed to let these foolish humans know he was here, so he couldn’t properly howl his woes to the winds.

Grumbling under his breath instead, he stalked back to the nest of wires he’d modified. If his work were to be undone, he could do it. He was here to help, if they’d just let him.

“Who the hell are you?” A sharp voice asked from behind him as he knelt before the nest, and he froze.

He wasn’t in the habit of being covert; that had been about the most interesting part of the whole debacle thus far.

He wasn’t a stealthy ghost. His presence was part of his armoury, inspiring fear and awe in all who could see him coming. Which only worked if they saw him coming.

He’d forgotten to be invisible.

For all that the king’s wishes had been annoyingly vague, there was just one thing he’d been explicitly clear on.

No mortals were to see him.

Very slowly, his helmet creaked around to face the glowering young mortal woman in the doorway, her hands on her hips.

He. Could. Use the Soul Shredder to send her to her own nightmare dimension. Then no one would know she’d seen him.

Except that the king had forbidden him from using his sword. And the young knight liked the woman Harper and would likely notice her absence.

Wretched nuisance.

She also didn’t seem the sort to scare easily, which he usually appreciated in a foe.

Even under the glare of his blazing purple eyes, she marched straight up to him, hands on her hips, and glowered.

“Are you the asshole who’s been fucking with my power supply?” She asked sharply, actually prodding! Prodding him! With her feeble mortal finger!

And he was unable to appropriately respond!

And if she were a true ally of his king, simply fading from sight would only affirm what he was in her mind…

For a brief moment, he wondered if he could persuade her that he was the Box Ghost, but discarded the idea immediately. No, he was no coward to hide behind another’s name!

Especially not that lowlife.

He would face the punishment from his king, content at least in the knowledge that it would be just, and would not maim or destroy him.

Which meant not smiting the puny mortal who’d rumbled his plans.

Unless…

She was an ally to the young knight. And fearless. And endeavouring to build and properly haunt this house. Perhaps she could be of aid to his own mission…

Which meant he had to be (a grimace hidden entirely under his helmet) tactful. Appealing even.

Straightening to his full height, he then bowed just below hers.

“Indeed, Dame Harper. I must apologize; Sir Jason has informed me of the true intent of your most excellent devices, so I came to repair what I have wrought.” It grated on him, a ghost of his calibre forced to treat any human as an equal… but less than it used to.

A useful opponent, and a worthy one, was hard enough to find. And… horror of horrors… under his new king, he was almost… getting used to it.

She didn’t seem overly impressed, folding her arms and giving him another, more sceptical once over.

“Yeah… and from that get up, I’m gonna guess you’re probably not from the university,” she said dryly.

The Spirit of Halloween cursed internally. Of course! That would have been the perfect excuse! A mere student in a costume! His time of year was all about disguises!

Yet already he’d declared his association to the younger Fright Knight by use of his title. She had already seen through such a potential escape.

Still, it meant she was observant. Passably intelligent. Good marks in an ally.

Better to act like he’d never intended to deceive her, though. It may let him glean some more insight into just how trusted she was.

“I am not.

From lands beyond and sights unseen

Your cohorts called upon me for aid

To plan a magnificent Halloween

So that all who enter be truly afraid.”

One of his better works off the cuff, he thought a little smugly… then deflated a little.

“I was not aware your devices were not some form of trap,” he added in more normal tones.

The corner of her mouth twitched upwards, although her stern expression did not change.

“Uh huh. Yeah, ghost bullshit was gonna be my next guess. You thought the generators were a trap?” She asked, a little incredulously.

Sir Halloween shifted uncomfortably. He still wasn’t used to explaining himself, and wasn’t sure how little he could get away with.

“I believed them an excellent tactic to terrify and incapacitate any land-bound intruders,” he agreed cautiously.

Definitely a smile pulling at her lips this time, though she fought it. Perhaps she would be more amenable to his suggestions than the halfas…

The Harper woman sighed and uncrossed her arms, hands on her hips once more.

“I guess they would work pretty well for that… but nah. I prefer more direct methods if I’m gonna fry someone, don’t want anyone else getting caught in the crossfire,” she added with a wicked gleam in her eye that he very much liked.

Then she pointed her chin at the wiring he’d been about to restore.

“Go ahead and fix that up then, and I’ll decide if I forgive you.”

Commands from a mortal rankled, but it was to do as he’d intended anyway. And would give him more time to assess her potential.

From his understanding, this woman no longer hunted the night, but had been a mighty hunter while nought but a child. Those habits were hard to break.

About to turn back to the panel, he hesitated. If. She was going to watch him work. He would need to remain visible.

And there were far too many mortals in the house.

“Ah… Dame Harper. I have been commanded to remain unseen by those unaware of the Infinite Realms. If you wish to observe, we shall need to ensure others do not come across me.” He hoped she would assume that he hadn’t been meant to hide from her.

He wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded as her smile became distinctly wider and far more devious, looking him up and down one last time.

“No one’s allowed to know about ghosts, huh? And you’re not exactly a subtle one. No worries, I have the perfect plan.”

**

Grumbling to himself as he pulled the last of the blades from the swinging arms Sir Spookier-Than-Thou had set up through the upstairs and downstairs hall, Jason gave the mechanism one last look.

He could dismantle the whole thing if he had to, but that’d take time. And besides, it was pretty good work.

All he had to do was slow the swing a little, find something a little more family friendly to add to each arm, and it’d be a pretty bangin’ addition to their haunted house.

He wasn’t sure if he should tell the Spirit of Halloween that or not; if he’d feel better knowing his work was appreciated, or get over excited and back on his bullshit.

Either way, someone was going to cart these mysteriously glowing blades back to the Ghost Zone that they’d surely come from, and it wasn’t gonna be him. About six of his classmates were waiting on him to help with some final additions, and while most of it could pretty easily have been done with a scaffold, they didn’t have time to build one.

Not when Jason could just reach up.

Or a couple of the other guys could just stand on a bucket, but hey. His room was pretty much complete, all he needed was to test the spring loaded launchers on his “batarangs” and he was done.

(The day he’d discovered the cute, stylized little marshmallow bats he’d known exactly what he had to do with them. B was just lucky it had been close enough to Halloween that Jason decided to go with this first.

It did make a nice test run for the Bat Cave though.)

There might be a couple more cosmetic tweaks, some spit and polish, but he’d be essentially ready.

They weren’t exactly in competition, no scoring or voting or anything, but the Lit geeks in particular had been gushing and bragging about their own horror rooms from day one. Some of them were honestly really impressive; Heather’s 13 Ghosts setup that Danny had hooked the ghost shield into was extremely well designed, and used pretty much every inch of the master bedroom.

Ray and Tyra had both gone with more classic horror (and adjoining rooms; Jason particularly liked the chase from Tyra’s Grimm fairytale forest to Ray’s werewolf lair), and they actually had four different set ups featuring Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

While those might have been more obscure before Dracula Daily (and included less internet jokes), Jason enjoyed the narrative that started in the back room of the first floor, up the stairs (the road to castle), a gorgeous crypt, and then the final ascent to the roof and the opportunity for guests to “climb” down the wall (in lizard fashion, obviously) over an air bag or take the “Descent To Hell” (an inflatable red twirly slide that Danny still wanted to slick with dish soap. Jason and OSHA both disagreed).

There wasn’t exactly a unifying theme beyond “horror”, but they had at least planned ahead enough to group the rooms by type. The decorations along the halls to gradually show the genre changes would be the last things going up, but Jason was pretty sure the new swinging arms would be a great addition.

It wouldn’t be a seamless change, but it would be on brand.

And sure, technically his own Phantom of the Opera room was also one of the outliers from a thematic and stylistic perspective (because he’d chosen the book, not the stage show - although he had snagged the score and had a play around in an editing suite for background music).

He’d taken the “basement” for the forgotten halls below the opera house, so it didn’t really matter that his dripping stone, hall of mirrors, and final Grand Decision were a lot more classically gothic than the rugged and rural first floor, or the more urban and scifi second. He’d been able to source a bunch of old theatre dressings from a recent rogue attack, so it had been easy to set the bones up.

It was a great house, and while he’d been a little worried about the size when they’d drawn up the plans, they were pretty much on schedule.

Despite the interference of the Spirit of Halloween.

Who was gonna go drop stuff off in the Ghost Zone, and maybe just stay there until the night itself. Jason couldn’t give the command or make it stick, but Danny could, and probably would if the Spirit mucked with his new tech one more time.

For all that he insisted this whole mess was Jason’s fault (and therefore Jason’s problem), he was the one who decided how far any of it went.

Wondering idly what he could suggest to get Frighty back under Danny’s feet, he tossed the last blade in a decidedly triangular box and hoisted it quickly.

He wasn’t entirely sure what the blades were made of, or what they’d do (the Soul Shredder was a unique weapon that he hadn’t made himself, but Jason had no idea what he could make), but he wanted the Box Ghost to get his hands on them even less than he wanted his fellow students to.

All he had to do was find ol’ Halloween… and the big guy never really bothered to shield himself. It took very little focus to expand his aura through the rest of the house these days, and he didn’t even need to get past the first floor. The Spirit of Halloween was at the back, the room below Danny’s where Harper had her main boards and batteries set up for ease of use.

(It wasn’t technically part of the attraction, but she’d still made it look spooky and on theme in case anyone peeked around the door.)

But the Fright Knight had better be in there fixing things or hiding from people, not fucking with the piezoelectrics again, or Jason was gonna start a training session of his own on the spot.

(Not that he’d reliably win a regular fight; he was damn good, but the Spirit of Halloween was older, more used to ghost powers, and loved his sword and duels almost as much as he loved poetry and terrorizing the wretched.

But on Earth, with more than half of their powers denied them by Danny’s rules? Jason could come for his ass.)

————

Listen. This is not the universe for short oneshots, okay?

But there are some sneaky hints for the road ahead in our main timeline too, for attentive eyes 👀

Happy Halloween!

[mockingkatniss]

NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow

18+ | nswf | mdni

warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).

(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)

summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.

words count: 3.109k

Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3

enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀

coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.

he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.

he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.

to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.

if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell

that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.

his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.

it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.

coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.

miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.

while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.

the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.

your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.

sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.

he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.

he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.

coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.

you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.

once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.

“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.

coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.

coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.

at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.

he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.

thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.

he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.

“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.

you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.

you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.

you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.

after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.

you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.

“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.

you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.

he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.

coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.

it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.

you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.

“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.

you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.

it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.

coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.

when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”

[pedge-page]

Crash

Sequel to Cravings

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie is reeling from the night you two had sex and can no longer differentiate between his addictions.

Notes: Great y’all, now he's got feelings . Hope you're proud. Anyway, thank you all for the overwhelmingly positive feedback from Cravings: alas, here’s part 2! There will be a part 3 finale following after this (because it was getting too long and I like making you all suffer). Thank you all again for the love and reading so far!

Warnings: Oral (m and f receiving), F and M masturbation, dry humping, drunk reader, slight dub con drunk sexual activities, references to sex, mentions of drug usage,  language, Frankie is kinda mean in this one :( , poor communication King and Queen

18+ONLY

- - - -

Frankie feels like a stranger who's overstayed his welcome in his own home. When he knew you were deep asleep, he crawled out of bed and sat on the couch for what felt like a simultaneous eternity and quantum leap of time, wrestling in his mind over what just happened.

He knows you'll be waking up soon, and the thought of seeing you now makes him feel so anxious. In direct contract to how he's felt seeing you every morning since you moved in. How much of last night stuck with you? You were tipsy, but not as fucked up drunk as he was. Did he come on to you too strong? Misread your signs? Did he force it on you? Would you regret it?

And even if you wanted it, was it just all for him? Was this just another "helping Frankie get over his coke problem"?

He can't just go back to seeing you as a substitute for his "problems". His hands shook at his side, leg bouncing. You were slowly transitioning from being the solution to his problems to becoming the reason for his new problems. He's never been afraid about how to act around you before, and that even includes trying to touch and kiss you in front of some guy you were flirting with at the bar.

God, what a shitty friend he is. You should have had the chance to go home with that guy, not have to deal with your coke addicted friend so he hog your cunt all night for himself.

Then again, why would you want to go home with that fucker anyway? Like he would know your body as intimately as Frankie does. As if he could even come close to bringing to the edge black out pleasure and back over and over all night. Catfish doesn’t pride himself on much except two things: flying a chopper under any condition, and making you cream on his tongue.

He feels even more guilty as his cock hardens in his pants, the memories of your sweet moans and perfection flood his mind. How he'd wanted it for so long and was so sure he was dreaming. But he could never mistaken: the hot tenderness of your sweaty skin, hair sprawled over his pillow, your nails sifting through his curls and scratching along his shoulders, the way your legs shook around his head, the taste of your over flowing juices needing him more than before, the sounds like honey pouring from your lips, the insatiably tight, wet grip of your pussy swallowing around him like a perfect fit, and the way you wrapped yourself around him like you never wanted to let go.

He wants you. Again. And again, and again. So much that he doesn’t think he can trust himself around you anymore.

-

You wake to a cold bed. It takes you a moment to orient yourself, recognizing the room is not your own.

You sigh relief when you hear Frankie shuffling in the kitchen, the smell of burning toast filling the air. You quickly run to the bathroom to freshen up, wiping your messy eyes. And surprised to find the once mess between your legs from last night had already been cleaned, probably while you had slept.

You can't help but feel like a shitty friend, hogging his bed, having him clean up after you when he was the drunk one who needed caring to.

You bounce into the living space, announcing your presence with an exaggerated yawn.

You rub his broad shoulders over his shirt, feeling him tense at your sudden touch. Slowly, your hands snakes down the chiseled lines of his back, wrapping around his waist. You felt his strong forearms flex the spatula in his hand.

He turned to you, his eyes warm but clearly sleep deprived. His breath is short when looking at you, eyes dilated. He can't stop your hands drifting south and feeling the clear tent in his pants that has been there all morning. He closes his eyes and groans as you palm his erect cock.

"Why didn't you wake me?" You asked, turning off the stove as you stare up at him.

Frankie swallows the lump in his throat. He brushes your hands off his crotch and holds them in his. “I’m okay. Besides, you needed your rest." He leans down to kiss your cheek, lacking his usual affection despite the gesture before coldly turning back to his cooking.

You pull away and sit down at the table, just a moment before he's plating your breakfast.

Frankie cooked you breakfast?

He brushes your hair out of your eyes before leading himself down the hall and into his room without another word.

Sheets, pillow cases, clothes, all of it gets balled up and tossed in the wash. He glances at you down the ball, your feet dangling over the island stool as you catch up on your news feed.

You couldn’t be any more oblivious to how much his heart is shattering—just from doing absolutely nothing.

-

He's annoyed at how well you carry about your business from then on. So much so that he's trying so hard avoiding using you as much. Yes he WANTS to fuck you again, wants to ravish your cunt every waking minute of the day like before, and then fuck you until you're pleading him to stop, tell you how good you look taking him, and how you were clearly made for him. But how much of it did you want for yourself?

After the first night, he’s been doing everything in his power avoiding sex with you because it’s dangerous. Because he can't control what happens next. Can't keep it platonic, and pretend he’s ok with it just staying sex. He almost lost it and confessed everything the first time—and what would happen when you didn't want that from him? If you didn't feel the same?

You'd leave him.

So of course you make it that much harder for him to resist you everyday since.

Did you realize how sexy you looked wearing nothing but panties, bending over your bed with the fan on after a shower to cool off? you left your door open, casually waving to him, breasts smushed between your chest and the soft blanket on your bed. Did you know he swells with pride when can he still see the obvious markings of his fingerprints bruised on to your hips, your thighs, your stomach, after spending so much time holding your shaking body against his mouth? The way your nipples pierce through his t-shirts that you manage to dig out of his closet, and how they do nothing but aide the memory of you underneath him, begging for him to use you?

Every time he sees you, he gets hard. And he immediately tries to ignore you, walks away, goes to do anything other than giving in to the desire of pushing you down, spreading your legs and taking his frustration out on the one who's causing it all now.

He can tell you're starting to catch on. You notice his curt attitude, the way his eyes avoid you when you’re in the same space.

You two were sitting on the couch watching tv as always, but he was uninterested, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed almost in annoyance. You had interpreted it as a sign of him holding back his urges. Sliding down the couch, you glide your hand across his chest, starting to undo your buttoned night gown. when he opened his eyes and saw the first sliver of your breasts opening for him he stood abruptly, throwing you off. He only mumbles 'goodnight' and headed straight to his door.

It's been a few days since the last time he ate you out, last time he really cared to touch you. And you should be glad, really. He's getting so much better. Clearly craving you less. That was the whole fucking point of all this.

But FUCK if you aren't needy as of lates. You can feel the hot flush of embarrassment as you drag yourself to your room. Wet and bothered and for the first time in months, left unsatisfied to your own devices without Frankie's tender and a bit selfish care. You don't remember the last you needed to masturbate, let alone wanted to.

It shouldn't be embarrassing. And yet as you dip your fingers down your panties and through your slick folds, you feel wrong. Empty. Like something isn't there thats supposed to be. The idea that you're so used to him getting you off whether you asked for it or not that you're now incapable of doing it yourself is—troubling.

You huff in frustration and try your best to work yourself to a minimal slickness, remembering all the times Frankie has brought you over the edge again and again. But thinking about him only makes you slightly perturbed by the fact that he's right down the hall and could be doing this himself, if he only needed you as badly like he used to.

You don't notice your friend is right outside your closed door, ear pressed against the wood as he listens to your hushed sighs. His cock is hard in his hand, pumping it with long strokes to your beautiful yet strained moans. He wants to be buried between your legs. Wants his tongue to lap at your folds, fingers craned deep in that tight hot wet heat thats been calling his name all night. Make you flinch away when the stimulation becomes too much, because he knows you'll still take it like his good girl until he decides to stop. He knows all the right places to push, nothing secret between the two of you. In fact, in the amount of time thats passed with your fumbling attempts to get off and his pulsing dick in his hand, he could have made you cum twice now.

His body has been on overdrive trying not to take you again. Trying to be respectful for a change. Everything hurts, even his cock, which no matter how much he tugs on it, it's nowhere near close to giving him that sweet release. He's feral, nails digging in his thighs with the need to feel you against him again. Needs to just fuck, let it out, and then he can deal with his brain, his guilt, afterwards.

And when he hears you softly moan his name, he can't stop himself from barging down your door, wild eyed, dick slapping against his abdomen as he crawled over top of you and captured your lips.

Stop, stop stop, he's telling himself. But with the way you're wrappings your arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss, delicate hands cupping his aching cock, all his needs he's been denying for days have overtaken his movements. 

You're so bad for him. An unavoidable addiction.

Worse than candy, worse than coffee, worse than cocaine.

He flips you on your stomach, his hand engulfing the entirety of your lower back, pinning you there as his elbows spread your knees. He lies between your thighs, ass up in front of his face, and spreads your soaked folds, enamored with your clit twitching for him. Your little hiccup goes quiet when he presses his face into your mound, nose dragging along the line as his jaw works you open, fingers pulling your cheeks apart so he can suffocate himself properly.

His fingers dig into your waist, and he's rocking your body back and forth, dragging so deliciously against the sheets below you. His tongue is plunging in and out of your hole, and you realize he's fucking you on his tongue. You hum in relief, rocking with his movements, earning you stinging slaps on your ass cheeks. He kisses them better before biting your folds and gorging himself on your slit again, his appetite voracious after denying himself of your sweetness all week.

He ignores that bubble of guilt wedged deep in his stomach as he let's instinct bring him the relief he desperately needed, your squelching cunt and satisfied sighs tampering his cravings for you once again.

He watches you shake with your orgasm, encouraging him to keep taking. You babble: "Thats it, baby" "so hungry today aren’t you?" "Use it the way you like" and he closed his eyes, wishing he could block out the clear direction of how you saw this transaction. You were never this vocal before, but now when he's tossing and turning all night with his thoughts about wanting you, here you are telling him plainly. Almost as if you're reminding him the truth, discrediting his hopes for a different outcome.

He sits upright and slaps his cock between your ass cheeks, grinding down on you so you're still pressed flat on your bed. God, he wants to do it again. Spread your folds and split you in half with his fat cock. Make you weep and pass out, and then fuck you again. "Gorgeous fucking ass, mi hermosa. So pretty under me," He grunts as he slicks his member up with your arousal, just barely holding on the last bit of sanity he has by refusing to enter you. You whine in protest, but he has both hands on your lower spine, crushing your hips into the mattress as he uses your ass. "So good spoilin' me. Always there for me." He grits his teeth, rutting his cock against you, occasionally sliding back down to your folds to lather himself up. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" He growls as he spills his cum over your lower back, breath catching in his throat.

The guilt creeps back in to his clear mind, and he's angry at himself again.

He can't stop himself.

"Frankie, why didnt—“

Before you could finish, he was storming out your door and slamming it behind him.

-

He used to be so loving. Used to worship your body, warm praises about how perfect you are for him. Sometimes he'd take his time, and other times he'd be fast, but still always with warm hands, attentive to your reactions, even when he was so fucked out of his mind needing you.

But now he's rougher. More sporadic than before, even as he decreases the number of times he's engaged with you. Silent now, too. fewer loving praises, less warmth behind his touch or his eyes, and in fact, spends more time having you in positions where he doesn't have to look at your eyes. He leaves you cold afterwards every time.

He's been acting like it a lot more lately: ignores you all week, being uncharacteristically polite when you corner him but managing to ditch whenever possible. And then he caves all at once, crashing in on you and takingtakingtaking, before going back to ignoring you. It should be a good thing: that he needed you less. That his cravings were subsiding more and more that he could actually go a while before needing a hit. It really should have been like this from the start: Cold. Transactional. Indifferent.

So why did you feel so awful now?

The only reason you haven't lost all hope is that very occasionally, that sappy, wet puppy dog of a mess shows his warm side again. You were showering when you heard him slip the curtain open behind you and step in, his arm immediately wrapping around your stomach, loving kisses adorning your shoulder, neck, and up to your ear. You sigh, relaxing in to his touches. He just held you there and kissed your body. He didn't even try to touch you, although you knew you were growing a different wetness between your legs. He didn't let you touch his obvious erection either. Just peppered you in kisses, dragging his lips over your stomach, combing through your hair, up to your elbow then down in the palm of your hand. There was no rush behind hid actions. No urgency. All gentle.

All Frankie.

YOUR Frankie.

But incidentally as he brought his eyes to yours, his chest seized with coldness again, and he's suddenly leaving you and the now cold shower without a word.

You didn't know how to make it better anymore.

He was so agitated again recently, and you could tell he didn't get any sleep again. You suggested he take the day off, the two of you could spend it "however he wanted", slyly offering yourself to him to take the edge off. But when he ignored you and went to watch the football game, two beer bottles dangling between his fingers, you rolled your eyes.

So fed up with his change in attitude, you spent an hour getting ready in your room, walking down the hall in heels, your tightest shortest shorts, and a low hanging crop. It had been a month since you and Frankie first fucked: combined with his recent behavior, stress with work, and lack of action, you needed a night out, needed to get wasted. Needed to stop being the baby sitter.

You needed sex.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Out."

You grabbed your keys and left.

You hadn’t even closed your car door before opening your phone and texting Frankie that you were going out with Santi to help alleviate any worries he might have of the company you're keeping. Pope’s just as close a friend as Frankie is: he shouldn't have any problems about the fact that you’re in good hands tonight and just need some time to drink and be out.

Away from Frankie Morales just for the night.

-

It’s like you’re perfectly doing everything wrong to him.

She's out with Santi. Fucking Pope. The same Santi who told Frankie years ago you're smoking hot, and he wouldn't hesitate to jump on you if you let him. His best friend, the one who knows him better than himself, and yet here he is making a move on his girl—

But you aren’t his.

In fairness, he has been a total ass. He keeps trying to curb his desires, punch away his uncontrollable feeling about you, only caving all at once on you like a bullet train. Then the emotional brick wall of regret builds immediately after release, desperate to shut out his overwhelming feelings and the rough actions he’s taken against you. It keeps repeating. 

He vainly hopes he'll actually stop wanting someone who doesn't want him any more.

He curses himself for only having enough alcohol to get slightly tipsy. It's been a week since the two of you did anything sexual, a month since "the incident" so it's a good thing you're out.

It doesn't make him feel better.

To his annoyance, his phone buzzes next to him as Santi's contact pops up. He puts it on speaker, can hear loud giggles and music outside, barely registering his friend saying you're completely wasted and need to be taken home. He doesn't even send a reply, already throwing his jacket and cap on and walking out the front door.

-

"FISHY!"

You're leaning over Santi outside the bar when you spot Frankie walking towards you two. Your mascara smeared across your eyes like you had been wiping them all night. You're mumbling incoherently, throwing your head back in a fit of laughter. Pope is barely holding you up right, sheepishly smiling to keep your morale up.

"Hey man. I’m sorry, She lost her keys and I walked here. Otherwise I would have..."

"It's fine. Gimme her," Frankie said curtly. How Santi would ever let you drink this badly, he'd have to berate him later.

"M' Pinocchio!" You gasped as Frankie slung one of your arms over his neck and hoisted you up on one of his shoulders.

Why? Full of lies? he wonders.

“I’m gonna be swallowed by a great big FISH." You hiccuped, cackling upside down with a nice view of your besties tight ass. Frankie readjusts your body like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder and stands up, holding your thighs securely. If Santi wasn't here, he'd smack your ass to get you to shut up.

Frankie nods once at Santi and goes to turn around.

"Hey Fish? Take—take care of her. Please."

No shit.

Frankie is pushing open the apartment door as you're mumbling "fishy fishy fishy—hic!— squishy fishy."

He drops you down carefully on your bed. "Get undressed."

You giggle even more, seductively biting your lips as you pull yourself up to his body, hands roaming his abs and down to his hips. "You first."

He stared down at you, your lust ridden eyes meeting his, as you're pulling your shirt off so you're only in a push up bra. He tried avoid staring at your supple tits, the faint bite marks and bruises from his past ministrations almost completely faded by now. A fresh canvas practically begging to be marked up again...

He shakes his head. "We're not doing this. You're getting in your pj's and going to bed," he said, scolding you like a brat.

"Ppfftttttt." You ignore him, lifting his shirt and kissing his belly button, tracing down his happy trail and pausing at his belt. "At least someone here misses me."

He hasn't even noticed how hard he was in his jeans until you were rubbing your cheek against his clothed bulge, doe eyes staring up at him. He hears the soft pop of his pant's button undone, zipper slowly being dragged down by your teeth.

"When was the last time I blew you, Fishy? Let me relax you. I know you've needed this..."

His jaw clenched as he avoided your eyes.

“Know you want me,” you purred.

 Those fucking words again. If you KNEW how much more he actually wanted from you...

"He's positively aching, Fish. Shouldn't ignore a big man in need."

He doesn't stop you when you pull his cock out of his pants, having foregone the underwear in a rush to get you. He closes his eyes when your pretty nails wrap around his thick length, lips ghosting over his tip as you press an innocent kiss to his slit.

You hadn't blown him in a long while, and not often enough as you would have liked. you don't normally take charge, but he's been so distant lately that you can't help but use the alcohol in your system as a newfound confidence to forcibly get him to unwind. Your cunt throbs with need, forgetting just how indescribably big he is until felt him swelling in your mouth. It's sinister how well his dick reacts to your tongue, like you had been practicing as often on him as he had intimately gotten to know your pussy.

Your lips suction his tip into your mouth, causing him groan. His stomach flexes above your forehead. He's resisting again. Your tongue swirls around the tip as you lightly bob your head, swallowing an inch more and pulling out with a pop, teasing him slowly. You needed to get him worked up so he could let go, relax for once.

Maybe not be so cold to you for a while...

He feels your hands gently grasp his own that were down by his side, guiding them up to the back of your hair. You squeeze them in permission before returning your hands to wrap around the length of his cock that didn't fit down your throat.

You experimentally swallow around his shaft, eliciting a soft "fuck" from his breath. He collects your hair in a makeshift pony tail in his hand so that he had a full view of your face, submissively staring up at him as you gulp more of his cock into your inviting mouth.

You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, the veins in his v-line in front of you throbbing. Other than holding your hair up, he continues to let you set the pace. His eyes are fixed on you, head slightly titled to the side, entranced by your spell, his tongue just hovering between his teeth.

You push your face a little further, nose brushing against his public hairs, the first jolt of your esophagus resisting the intrusion. y|You hold yourself there, holding your breath for a moment before sucking him again. He's breathing deeply with long, staggered huffs.

You tilt your head back up, eyelashes fluttering as he watches his shaft rest on your outstretched tongue, slowly tracing the veins on the underside of him.

He fists your hair a little tighter, struggling not to grab your face and fuck your throat raw until you choked.

You swallow around him once before letting his dick fall from your mouth with a slick plop.

You stand up, eyes challenging his dominance despite the height difference as you drag him to sit on the bed, and while his eyes are emotionless, body stiff, he doesn't try to stop you. He rests against the headboard as you crawl over his lap. You waste no time to kiss him.

He’s not accepting your tongue, just letting you work over him. What the fuck is his problem? it's never taken him this long to give in. You can tell he WANTS to kiss you back, his jaw clenching so hard he could shatter his teeth. It's never stopped him before.

Truthfully, what you didn't know was that he was tired of you today; from trusting Santi over him for fuck knows what reasons, then having you come home drunk out of your mind, trying to tempt him with more emotionless sex. It's putting him off of your antics mentally. He wanted you, but not like this. He couldn't handle the aftermath of giving in to you again, but not having you.

Sexually, his mind was losing the war over his body's needs.

If it wasn't coke, it was you. And if it wasn't you...

It can only be you.

And Jesus, just when he thought he had a grip on being able to block you out for good tonight, you somehow managed to be an irresistable siren:

"'M so wet for you," you slurred seductively against his lips.

He can't hide the growl rumbling lowly in his chest. His lips part to let out a breath he had been holding and you take the chance to engulf his mouth with the hot kiss you'd been dying to get all week. His lips quickly mold to yours as you whimper pathetically, his hands sliding down to grip your ass in his warm, rough hands. You prop yourself higher on him, cupping his face in your hands, forehead nudging his Standard Oil cap off. You can feel his hot breath panting quickly against your cheek, his resolve crumbling.

He's right there. He's so close to relaxing. Just a little push...

You pull away, his lips almost chasing after yours. "C'mon big boy, wasn't it soooo good?" You playfully bite his ear. "You've got suck a nice cock here," you whisper, fisting his dick once again with the remnants of your spit, pumping his shaft easily. "Shame if it wasn't pounding me tonight...C'mon. Let's do it again."

He finally brings his eyes directly to yours. Your pupils were blown wide, crowded with evident lust. But it was what he could see beyond your eyes that told him exactly what he feared all along:

Nothing.

He doesn't stop the words from tumbling out of his month. "Why? so you can just use me for sex?" he said matter-of-factly, his face relaxing into a mix of coldness and spite.

You stop giggling and pull away, eyes widening with the most seriousness, and hurt, he'd ever seen on you. "And how is that any different than how you've treated me for the past year?"

His jaw is slack with panick, immediately wishing he could take back what he just said. No I—shit, I didn't mean —I didn't mean it like that—“

You get off of him with a hostile sense of urgency, ignoring his hands trying to caress your elbows, to keep you on him. You dig in your back pocket and then you're throwing something hard at his chest. "No, you know what? Fuck you, Frankie." You storm off to your bedroom and lock it.

He covers his face with both hands and leans back against the sofa. Looking down at his lap after a minute, he sees the pair of keys you've had to his apartment for the past year.

What he'd give to be high right now and to forget everything.

-

You spend the entire night packing. He's right at your door first in the morning when you open it, his stomach churning with pain at the image of your eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, hangover, and tears.

You brush past him before he can even apologize, settling your belongings on the kitchen counter. As you toss your scattered items in to your tote, he watches you, fingers twirling in on themselves with anxiety.

Now, now, do it now! he's screaming in his mind.

“I—“

You interrupt him, and it's only now that he sees you're not shaking in anger—you're trembling in tears: "I'm s-sorry that I snapped at you last night. I wasn’t— in the right head. I c-came on to you. You had your reasons for doing what we've done, and last night I was just genuinely u-using you for no other reason other than self interest and I'm s-so sorry." You swallow and take a deep breath before continuing: "I gave up a lot coming here, trying to help you, letting you use me to get better. But I can't do it anymore. I wanted to help you, but then when we had sex, I didn't know if things would change, I didn’t want things to change, and when I woke up, you weren't there, and then you treated me so coldly afterwards. I don't know what I did wrong.” Your voice cracks, sniffling away the running of your nose. “And it felt awful. I just wanted to go back to the way things were. But you s-seem like you hate me now, and I—“ you pause, rubbing your eyes on your sleeve, suddenly changing tone in a polite manner, like you were address a principle and ignoring your previous breakdown. "I'm very happy you're clearly doing a lot better and don't need me anymore. Sorry, I don’t—I don't mean to cry like this.”

Frankie is frozen.

You're crying. You're crying in front of him, which wasn't a first; you've cried to him about stupid boys before. But what IS a first is that you're crying for the first time over the stupid boy right in front of you. You're crying, Because. Of. Him.

Just tell her tell her tellhertellhertellherNOW 

But as he opens his month, his words get caught in his throat, like swallowing a lump of coal and puking a ball of fire all at once. His chest aches unlike anything he'd experience before. All he can say is "I... understand."

Nononononoyoudumbfuckwhatareyoudoing!

You nod and sniffle, clearing your throat. "I'd like to just go back to being friends. Before all of this. I'll still support you, I swear. I want you to still feel like you come to me for anything else. But I need some time. To get myself in check." You calmly collect your things and make for to the door.

"Wait!" he goes to grab your arm but his hand freezes up, like touching you would give you painful blisters. You pause and look over to him as he stands a bit closer. “I—I think you should keep this." He puts your key in your hand. "In case. Something happens."

Your lip quivers with empathy, eyes softening for him. "Please. I don't... I don't want to think about..." I don't want to think about seeing you lying face down OD'd on the carpet.

"Just. Hold on to it. Just in case. I'm asking as your friend. We're still that at least. Right?" The words feel like hot iron in his mouth, a heaviness in his heart desperately trying to convince himself more than you.

He wants to hug you. but if he did, he wouldn't let you leave. The warmth of his hand draws away from you after depositing the key in your palm.

You nod, rub his shoulder affectionately yet with clear distance, and leave.

He stands there like a statue in the hall, unable to comprehend just how much quieter and colder the apartment is now than it has been in months.

- - - -

Tagging people who either requested a part two or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

Part 3: Insatiable

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Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily