#I walked out into the living room and my sister had taken all of the Halloween supplies and decorations and thrown them everywhere

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

⋆*·ﾟSo what if flowers wilt... misa x putellas!femreader

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your sisters are left dealing with the aftermaths of what happened in the club, and you wake up to a flowery surprise.

or; part three of the as the flowers bloom, my heart does too universe

(no misa in this chapter. well... not in person, but in spirit... if you know, you know!)

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"Are we sure she's home?" Olga asked before the three of them slipped inside the building with Alexia's key. The patter of their footsteps echoed against the walls of the stairwell of the old apartment building.

"Ale, I really don't think we should go in, in case she called someone over after all," Alba whined, dread filling her limbs with each step.

But Alexia stood firm, "I need to check on her." She pushed the key you'd given each of your sisters for emergencies into the lock and pushed the door open.

Your heels were discarded on the carpet in the hall, your clutch with its content spilled out on the little dresser. It was dark, aside from the little ball of warm light coming from the living room and casting shadows through the hallway. It was dead silent. Until it very clearly wasn't.

Alba immediately put her hands on her ears, afraid the high-pitched scream would be followed with sounds she could never un-hear, but let them drop again when she realised your sighs and cries weren't born from pleasure.

"You've ruined my life! You've ruined me! Fuck you!"

The dread of knowing you were talking to someone, and having a hunch on who you'd lash out on this way, made Alexia cross the hallway within seconds before she ran into the livingroom with Olga and Alba in tow, albeit hesitantly.

Alexia had her hands balled into fists, instinct taking over to protect her little sister from the monster that was making her cry this hearting-achingly. Frantically, she looked around for the perpetrator behind your pain, but there was only one person pacing the living room.

The sight before them absolutely tore them apart.

With your makeup smudged, your hair a mess and your face blotched and wet, your shoulders shaking and your chest heaving, you were pacing through your living room, your phone clutched tightly into your hand as you yelled into it.

A sob racked your body when you hurried out a blabbered sentence through your tears, and Alexia's stomach dropped. You paced around, yelling into the device, your Spanish blurring together in an incohesive mumble in the heat of your anger and sorrow. She half wondered how none of your neighbours had taken to calling the police with all this yelling after midnight, but she figured this had been the usual back when your ex had stayed with you and could start a fight about everything.

So, it didn't take a wild guess to figure out who was on the other side of the line.

Alexia rushed over, wrapping you in her arms, stopping you from pacing. Startled at having been pulled out of your state, you shrieked and fought her hold, but Alexia pushed you against her chest with great strength.

"Hey, hey, hey. Mira me- look at me. It's me. You're safe. We're here."

She tried to coax you down into her side on the couch, but your body was rigid and shaking. Alba walked over, unsurely, never having seen you in such a state and afraid any wrong move would ruin you even more. Her hand shook as she rubbed against your back, trying to help calm you down.

Alexia and Alba exchanged a look and Alba nodded, gently trying to pry the phone out of your iron grip— emphasis on trying.

"Give me your phone."

"No- I'm not done." You growled, turning away from Alba, but let Alexia pull it from your hand after your exhaustion set in.

Alexia further cradled you into her arms and held the phone out for Alba to take, who got ready to give the person on the other end of the line a big chunk of her mind, when she peeked at the screen and furrowed her brows.

"You're not even talking to anyone?" She questioned, seriously worrying about your sanity now.

"She hung up five minutes ago but I wasn't done." You heaved as Alexia shushed you again, helping you simmer down. With balled fists clutching onto your sister's shirt, you felt as if you were five again-- finding comfort in your older sister's embrace after you'd hurt yourself or got overwhelmed.

Alexia placed a kiss on your hair while Alba softly wiped the snot and tears away from your face with a napkin.

You could hear someone else move around your living room, the clinging of glasses and the faucet turning on before Olga appeared crouched before you. Embarrassment suddenly kicked in at the realisation it hadn't just been your sisters who'd seen you break.

"Drink something, Y/N/N." Her hand cupped your trembling one as she helped you take a few sips. You felt pathetic, but couldn't help but agree that the cold freshness of the water did help. The quiet moment didn't last long.

"Why would you accept her call?! Unless you called her yourself, but I sure hope that you weren't stupid enough to do that." Alba fired at you, but Alexia immediately gave her a stern look.

"Because she kept calling. I was afraid she'd come over if I didn't," You turned to Alexia, who was still cradling you, "Can you help me get new locks?" Alexia's heart broke at the look you gave her.

"We should've done that earlier. I'll call someone first thing tomorrow." She seemed to exchange a look with Olga, who nodded, "And I'm staying in the spare room tonight."

"No, you have a match tomorrow." Resolutely, Alba dropped her stuff and kicked off her heels, "But I'm staying."

"Well, I'm staying, too. End of discussion." Alexia huffed out, frustrated with herself that her tight schedule was trying to have her neglect her littlest sister when she needed her the most.

Immediately, you spoke, "No, I don't want Olga to have to be alone because of me." Alexia's chest tightened at how you spoke of yourself, at how your lips had snarled in distaste, as if you weren't worthy of the comfort the three of them were giving you.

Olga appeared before you again, gently dabbing at your hairline with a cold towel, "Y/N, you're family, you're important," She gave you a gentle smile, one clearly meant to calm you down and add some lightheartedness to the tension in your chest.

"I'm going to bring Olga home, then I'll come back, okay?" Alexia pulled you up and gently handed you over to Alba, who walked with you to your bedroom, helping your shaking form out of the dress you'd picked out for the club and into your most comfortable sleepwear. It was as if your tears had finally gone out of stock with the amount of emotional exhaustion you suddenly felt wash over you. You were but a mere vessel of yourself now. Empty and hollow. Exhausted to no end, no more room to feel.

Alba grabbed your chin and wiped your face with your makeup wipes, not looking into your puffy eyes that were staring at her, knowing it would break her resolve. She quickly turned around to throw the wipes away, her chin already wobbling.

"I got you a Tinder brunch date tomorrow." You mumbled out stoically, watching her eyes widen to twice their size as she quickly turned around.

"When did you-?!"

"When you gave me your phone." You wiped your stuffy nose with the back of your sleeve.

"Jesus, Y/N."

Your lip trembled, feeling more and more like a failure as your sister sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"She- She's pretty, likes dogs and has n-nice tattoos." You hiccuped through your old tears, suddenly feeling new ones well up, "I meant well..."

Alba rubbed her temples, knowing you were on the verge of another breakdown and that she needed to tread carefully.

"It's okay, Y/N/N."

"I just thought- I just want to see you happy and in love."

Alba finally let the tears fall. They were silent, but fell in rapid flow, "I don't really care about relationships right now. I'll be happy when you are. I promise you." She walked back over to your slumped form on the bed. You immediately latched onto her waist and hugged her, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to let the warmth and love of your sister's safe embrace engulf you.

After Alba changed into one of your oversized shirts, she pulled you in your bed and tucked you in safely, promising you she'd be back after cleaning up the mess you'd made in the hallway and living room.

Alba knew she shouldn't have left you by yourself, ready to wallow in your sorrow again and fall into the deep web of overflowing emotions and overthinking worries, but she knew that if she didn't step out to take a breather, she'd break down herself. The way you had trembled, the way your eyes had been filled with pure devastation and pain, had ruined her more than she would probably ever admit. The last time she'd seen your big, teary eyes look up at her like that, had been when your family had been in utter shambles. She took a big sigh and rolled her shoulders, sending away any negative feeling wanting to pull her down that rabbit hole again.

"Hey," Alba turned around, a stack of fallen magazines in her hands as Alexia stood in the doorway, taking off her jacket.

"Hey."

"How is she?"

"Alive," Alba sighed and threw the magazines back on their stack next to the couch. She stood still, frozen in place, staring at the magazines while she could hear Alexia throw her jacket over the barstool.

"Thank you," She turned around, facing her sister, "For being here."

Alexia gave her a tight-lipped smile, exactly sensing the deeper layer of Alba's thank you. Alexia was a great athlete, but that hadn't always coexisted next to being a great sister, leaving Alba to take over when she had been just as young herself. The fact that Alexia was here now, showing her they were doing this together, meant a whole lot to her.

Alexia walked over, wrapping Alba in a tight hug, feeling the younger woman starting to shake a bit. It was hard not to, so she let it happen as the tears fell.

"Oh, God-" Alba grumbled through a snicker and wiped her tears away, "Look at us."

Alexia smiled softly, knowing you weren't the only Putellas who was allergic to letting emotions show.

"It's okay." Alexia reassured.

Alba nodded, "Okay." She blew out a breath, "I'm not ready to go back in, but I don't want her to be alone."

"I'll go."

A soft knock on the door a while later had you look up, and Alexia's head appeared around the door, quietly peeking to see if you were still awake.

"Hey, soldier," She tried to smile to comfort you, but it looked more like a grimace the second she held the doorpost. Immediately, she whisked her hand away as if she got burned by the crack she felt in the wood, reminding her of bad times.

She didn't say a word after, only kicked off her shoes and threw on the hood of her Nike hoodie before burying herself beneath the mountain of covers Alba had covered you with. You sniffled and snuggled up to your older sister, much like old times during nights before a big day or after nightmares. She pulled you closer, planting a chaste kiss on your messy mop of hair. The silence was a little unsettling for her, because she knew that that meant you were busy thinking about a thousand things in your head. And, to be fair, so was she.

It was clear what you had been thinking about when you spoke,

"Please, don't tell Mama," You mumbled against her chest as her hand played with your locks of hair.

"You can't hide your pain from her forever."

"I don't want to worry her or make her sad again." You sounded like a child with a small vocabulary as you muttered, but who was still able to perfectly get her point across. Sometimes there was power in simplicity.

Alexia sighed, knowing how badly little-you had reacted to your own and your family's heartbreak after your father had passed. Despite your age, you had all these emotions, all these feelings you had no clue what to do with. Atop of that, you'd absorbed everyone else's emotions like a sponge, and often lashed out when it got you too overwhelmed. Your grades in school had dropped, you'd lost a few friends who hadn't understood how you were still so down after a few weeks and you had started to fight with Alba or be cross with your mother. It had been the start of your sometimes unbearable behaviour and had only added to your mother's agony instead of relieving her from it.

"But she's your mother, she wants to be there for you when you need her the most. Much like Alba and I want." She pulled you closer, inhaling your familiar scent—  the same shampoo scent she remembered you'd used ever since your pre-teens when it had lingered in the bathroom after you'd occupied it when she'd specifically requested to use it after training, "So don't push us out again, okay?"

You shook your head against her chest, not looking up when you heard your bedroom door creak open a moment later. The bed dipped behind you.

Alba spooned you as she got beneath the covers, arm slung around you while her hand reached out for Alexia's. The three of you lay there for a couple of minutes, in silence. Your bed wasn't large enough to feel like the gigantic bed of your parents which the three of you had often used as a trampoline or fallen asleep on to nap. Perhaps you had simply outgrown the size of your younger bodies, but it was a nostalgic kind of comforting nonetheless. With the three of you no longer living under the same room, these moments had been scarce as of late.

You tried to talk but no words came out, so you cleared your throat, "She might come tomorrow... or soon, you know?"

Simultaneously, your sisters's grip tightened around you.

"Let her come."

"I dare her to."

"She has something of mine, she wants to give back. That's partly why she called."

"Whatever could she have that she thinks is so important to you that she uses it as a bribe?"

Your lip trembled again when you stared at your chipped doorpost, realisation washing over you that your ex still had the one thing you had been yearning for—  the daisy and dolphin charm bracelet that your father had given you for the last birthday he'd been present at.

You pulled at Alexia's shirt, your sniffles drowning out against her chest. You could yell. She would forever be tethered to you so long as she had the one thing she knew you treasured the most. Your were too exhausted to bring it up, knowing you would have a lot of explaining to do once you broke that news, so you kept your mouth shut. And you preferred both your sisters very much out of jail, knowing what kind of mayhem could start once they learned of your secret. Besides, your body was depleted enough to fall into a deep sleep within ten minutes, now that you were in the safety of the arms of your sisters.

"Is she gone?" Alba whispered in the dark of your bedroom after your sniffles had stopped and your breathing seemed to have regulated.

"Yeah, out like a light."

Alba looked pensive for a little while. Alexia swallowed back the lump in her throat, knowing the tears would fall within the next hour, when Alba had fallen asleep too. That was if the girl could even get any sleep herself after this hell of a night. Alba's words earlier in the living room had meant a lot to her. Guiltily, she realised that Alba had done this more than she had—  often being the one to pick up the pieces of your heart whenever something had gone wrong... and you hadn't had the smoothest journey so far. She still blamed herself for not being around enough. Because if she'd been there, she could've seen right through you and would have known you weren't okay the second problems started to appear in your relationship.

Alba softly sat up in the bed, your arm still around her waist, "Imagine if you'd listened to me and we hadn't come here."

Alexia's voice rose, "Stop."

Alba pulled the duvet over your shoulders when you stopped breathing for a second, tucking you back in. Alexia felt relief when you didn't wake up.

"We'll need to do something, you know that, right? She needs us. She can't do this alone anymore, we can't let her."

"And we'll be there for her," Alba sighed, "No more idly waiting until she's ready. We were too nice to her about it before, trying to give her the space she wanted."

"We'll be there for her every step she needs to hold our hands." Alexia nodded, sealing the promise, "Wether that's driving her to therapy, or burning all the shit of the she-devil that's still lying around here. I'm sure I've missed some. And I'll call maintenance tomorrow, for a new lock."

"I'll call her friends and take her to mami."

"You really think we should tell mom? She'll be worried sick. Literally."

"She might be twenty-four but right now she needs her mom as much as she did when she was five."

"Mami's going to be upset."

"And she'll be even more upset if we keep it from her."

Alexia nodded and shuffled around to make herself comfortable, then turned around to your sleeping form. She leaned over, first planting a kiss on Alba's forehead before planting one on yours,

"I love you. Both of you."

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Alexia hated the yawn that left her, the third one in barely two minutes. The rational part of her brain knew that not having been able to sleep a wink would surely ruin her entire day, and she had an important day ahead, but she couldn't think of that right now as her littlest sister lay exhaling soft puffs of air next to her. She softly brushed your hair out of your face and smiled, realising you were wearing an old and washed out jersey— her name on the back long gone. In your sleeping form and without make-up on, all snuggled up under your covers, you looked no day past twelve years-old. It was an endearing moment after a horrible night.

Alexia's eyes then fell on Alba, who was splayed about uncomfortably and snoring softly. At least she'd gotten some sleep, albeit without sheets covering her most of the night, but that was mostly thanks to your hogging. Knowing the two of you deserved all the sleep you could get, she quietly shuffled out of bed and peered out of the curtains. She pulled her phone off the charger on the nightstand but jumped when two notifications came in.

Alba stirred and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, Alexia's apologetic smile meeting her as she adjusted to the light that peered through the curtains.

"Wha-" She yawned, "What time is it?"

"Seven."

"Wow- that's way too early for me." Alba yawned again, sensing the exhaustion in Alexia's voice, "You didn't sleep, did you?"

"I'll take a nap later on the bus." She lied, knowing there was no way she could find any sleep with the worries currently playing on her mind.

Alba felt chilly and rubbed her arms, only now realising what had happened. She didn't know why she was still surprised, she should've expected to wake up with only one of her legs draped under the covers. This time, she couldn't find the courage to pull and pry the sheets you'd hogged off you and over herself again. She scooted closer to your sleeping form, pulled you against her and tried to find some warmth in your arms, tugging Alexia back down as well. Your eyelids were red and swollen and your cheeks blemished and flushed from all the tears you'd shed. A memory flashed through her mind, and it immediately hit her with the force of a car crash—  a much younger-you clinging to Alba, fisting her shirt in your hands and your body shaking with sobs. Back then, she'd long given up on trying to console you after having realised you were so caught up in your heart ache, that your older sister's muttered words went straight over your head. She had just held you... had squeezed when she felt your body shake with another wave of sobs, and cupped your head and held it safely against her shoulder. It had proved to work, back then... her quiet comfort. There had been times where all Alba had wanted to do was exchange you with one of her friend's younger siblings, who had to be far easier to live with and seemed way cooler. She still remembered the plenty diary passages where she'd begged the universe to rid her of her annoying little sister... but you needed her, and she had to admit, she needed you just as badly. Despite your grievances and quarrels, you had found the comfort you so needed in your sister, and she had let you hold onto her like a lifeline, admittedly using the opportunity to let out a set of tears herself. The amount of times the two of you had fought, had given the other the silent treatment for days until either she or you had shown up in the other's room deep in the night with teary sleepy eyes to sleep with the other had brought you closer. It had unified you and advanced your relationship from young siblings fighting over toys or clothes to maturing ones, realising there was strength and love to be found in a sibling.

Alexia knew you had envied her for some time, jealous of the escape she found in football. How she could throw herself into her passion and put everything on pause during those ninety minutes. How she could take her grief and turn it into fiery passion and dedication, while you were unable to do anything but let it simmer until an inevitable outburst. She'd sensed the innocent resentment in your eyes the second she'd seen it, and taken you with her to the local fields in your neighbourhood. She'd given you some of her old gear that would fit and switched from mindless passing and shooting to tiny lessons of agility and dribbles. But you hadn't taken to the sport as well as she had. It wasn't second nature to you, and each time the ball didn't hit the net or it bounced off your feet in an entirely different direction as you'd meant, your frustration would only grow. Still, despite being young, you realised she was taking time out of her busy day, time she probably much rather spent resting after all the training, to be with you. She might not have been the best at comforting you with words like your mama, or with tough love and eventual quality time like Alba, but she was there... making an effort. That counted for something, and meant a great deal. After many frustrated growls and kicks, and after your energy had depleted, she would sit with you on the grass, overlooking the rest of the fields. Her company was comforting, her presence grounding, as if all would stay all right as long as your big sister was right there with you. And even now, she needed you to know that it would.

As you lied there now between your sisters, years later, needing the protection and comfort you'd so clearly lacked the past few months, Alexia and Alba remembered the promise they'd made all those years ago when they'd first held you. They squeezed tighter from both your sides, not caring that they could risk waking you from your slumber. They just needed you to know they were there. They would always be.

A tired groan slipped past your lips. You felt a pounding headache coming on.

"No."

Alba sniggered, "To what? We haven't said anything."

"Yet." You mumbled against her, the deepest sigh leaving you as you felt Alexia snuggle closer into you from behind. Your nose was stuffy, your throat itched and your eyes felt like they'd grown the size of melons. It all made reality hit way too soon. You wished you could have stayed trapped in your bubble of slumber for a little longer, but knew that that bubble would have to pop eventually.

"What's for breakfast, superstar?" Alba asked, receiving a noncommittal hum in return.

"I happen to remember that flower, eggs and milk were on the grocery list last week," Alexia chided, nudging your sides, "Is someone hungry for tortitas?"

Your sisters waited expectantly, giving each other a victorious smile as you peeled open one of your eyes.

"I'm not getting out of bed," You huffed out, tiredly, hiding your face from the light that had seeped in through the room.

Alexia forcefully, yet playfully, grabbed your head in her hands and planted the fattest kiss with the loudest smack.

"You don't have to. We'll eat here."

"And can we watch-"

"Whatever your current celebrity crush is in?" Alexia laughed, knowing you too well, "Definitely, we can."

"Of course," Alba rolled her eyes, and joined the laughter, playfully planting a kiss just as wet on your forehead before following Alexia out the room.

"Wait-" Your sleep was gone as soon as guilt ate away at you. You pushed yourself up, "Your date, and your football match!"

"I'll be able to stick around for at least one tortita." Alexia reassured.

"And I asked for a rain check on my date. She really is cute, by the way," Alba winked.

Your sisters left the room, leaving you to yourself in some sort of a daze. Your mind was still too fried and tired to let it properly process all that had happened the past twelve hours, let alone the past few weeks. The one prominent thing that rose to the surface, was the realisation and peace that came with it, that whatever would happen next, you'd have your two sisters by your side. You heard their muffled voices through the door, pans clattering against each other and someone stumbling into something. Oh, how grateful you were to have them in your life.

As Alba started to rummage through your kitchen and get to work, Alexia started to clean a little of the mess still lying around. She opened your windows, organised all the things you had lying about in your bathroom and put a bundle of clothes in the washing. Her face turned to one of surprise when she recognised the familiar tiny jewellery box lying opened and forgotten between some makeup brushes on your bathroom counter. She recognised the blue velvet box with the name of the local jeweller of Mollet del Vallès scribbled inside within an instant. Her father had given each of his daughters a charm bracelet on their eleventh birthday, his lucky number. She still had the one he'd given her—  it had tiny cleats, footballs and the FC Barcelona crest as charms. She knew yours had daisies and dolphins, two obsessions of you at the time. Only, the box was empty. It was strange, for she knew it was too valuable to you to wear it out and about every day and risk losing it. There was only one day you would wear it, and... well, that day had been turned into an even more horrible one this year. Perhaps you had just given it another place, or clung to it in comfort after the events of the past few weeks. She made a note to ask you about it later.

She rose her brows in surprise when the buzz signalling someone was ringing your number downstairs rang through your apartment. Your building wasn't modern enough for her to see who was asking for your attention through some device, and she felt dreadful when the thought of it being your ex crossed her mind. She pressed the button of the intercom and it immediately crackled to life,

"Yes?"

She clenched and unclenched her hand into a fist, praying this day wouldn't start out horribly already. She sighed in relief when a male voice croaked through the tiny device on the wall.

"Delivery for Y/N Putellas."

Alexia rolled her eyes, knowing you liked to splurge, a little too often. Then again, if retail therapy was what had kept you up and running like a normal human being... and if you could afford it, then she'd gladly look the other way.

"I'll be down in a minute."

You had left the warmth of your bed and tiptoed into the kitchen as soon as the smell of something burning wafted into your bedroom.

"Alba-" You yelled through the apartment, "If this place burns down I will kill you!"

"Sorry!"

"Use the damn hood!"

"I hate the sound!" You could practically see Alba roll her eyes, "It's so obnoxious."

Not trusting your sister enough in the kitchen, you'd pulled yourself out of bed. The blanket you'd draped over you swept the floor behind you. It showed only your face as you walked up to your sister in the kitchen.

"The first one's always a mess." Alba justified while scraping the tortita off the pan and right into your trashcan.

You flicked on the hood above the stove and watched her drip half of the spoon of batter onto your counter, "Mama always does one at a time."

"Well, I don't have the luxury of time today."

You perched yourself onto the edge of your couch, staring at Alba, gut being punched once again. You'd half hoped, well, expected, that she would stick around now that she didn't have her brunch date to get to. You didn't want to be alone again. Not only did the prospect of being left with your thoughts worry you, you also worried about a certain someone arriving to your doorstep before maintenance could give you a new lock.

"Oh."

Alba immediately turned around, "No, no, no- I'm staying with you," She reassured with a smile, "We just have a full schedule ahead of us."

Groaning, you fell back onto the couch.

"I don't want to do anything, Alba."

"So I should just tell your friends you no longer want to see them... and tell mama she's cooking for one instead of three tonight? You've rotten inside that bed of yours long enough now. You're done with locking yourself away from the world now."

You knew better than to argue with your sister when she used her tone of finality. So you laid there, on your couch, inspecting your very boring ceiling.

You were relieved to see Alexia appear from out of the hallway, but what she held in her hand made you sit up in an instant— a large bouquet of flowers. You recognised a bunch of white peonies and pastel pink roses. In the middle of it was one large red dahlia.

"Hey, I thought we'd stay in bed?" Alexia wondered, walking over as if she wasn't carrying a bouquet thrice the size of her head.

"Oh, you really didn't have to do, but thank you." Alba played along, eyes too focused on the flowers and not on the pan in front of her while she tried to flip a pancake, making it crumble.

"It's for you," Alexia put the flowers out for you to grab, the fresh scent of them immediately filling the room.

"You guys got me these?" Your chin started to wobble again, feeling overwhelmed by the sweet surprise of your sisters, when Alexia swiftly shook her head.

"N-No," She muttered out, a little panicked, not wanting you to start your rollercoaster of emotions all over again, "They were just delivered to you. By a local florist."

Interest now piqued, Alba joined, "Who sent them then?"

Alexia eyed you, hoping this wasn't the start of some stalker you'd gotten yourself by inviting mere strangers into your home and bed. God knew she couldn't deal with anything like that atop of everything else. Alba warily inspected the bouquet for a note, a scribbled message on the wrapping paper—  anything to prove this wasn't a weak attempt from your ex to mend things.

Tears prickling in your eyes, your voice was shaking as you muttered, "Why would someone sent me flowers? I don't deserve-"

Alexia's features hardened as she crouched to get to your level, "Y/N, no. Just, no. No, no, no. Look at me- hey, listen," You found the eyes of your sister, "You do. You deserve all the love in the world and you might not believe me now, but you do." She pushed the bouquet against your chest, "And it seems we're not the only ones whose life you lift up simply by being there, or else they wouldn't have surprised you with this, so we're not being biased as your sisters."

Alba coughed, playfully, and lovingly brushed her fingers through your tangled bed hair, "Just the tiniest bit biased though. You can be an incredible pain in the ass."

Alexia shot her a look.

Suddenly, you jumped up, leaving your sisters confused to your abrupt leave.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going to look for a vase- Oh, my-" Their heads whipped to the stove, where another pancake was ready for the bin again.

"Alba," You groaned, "When will you learn you multitask like shit?"

Alba couldn't help but laugh as you ran around the kitchen like a headless chicken, one hand holding the bouquet preciously to your chest as if it was a newborn baby, the other flipping Alba's concoction in the trash again.

"Wait- did you two even put eggs in this?"

Alexia and Alba gave each other an awkward look, realising they'd forgotten that. But forgetting an egg or two was always better than not being there for you.

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© 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆.🖤

this has been waiting in my drafts to be published for three months now, hope you enjoy!

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Knowing a change of scenery was what your mental health needed, you transferred to where your brother, Mark, goes to college. The good news is, he’s not too cool for his younger sister, so he lets you join his friend group immediately. The bad news is, Haechan is in that friend group, and a brief encounter four years ago was enough for you to understand he does NOT like you. Even worse news, he’s a lot hotter than he was four years ago…

Chapter Fifteen: I'll just ask Mark - four images, 1.5k words - heads up, this chapter deals more with y/n's mental health than previous ones

You were thankful you didn’t have any classes for the rest of the day, because time slipped right by you while at lunch with Haechan. The two of you got sandwiches and coffee from the library café, but when you quickly realized all the tables were taken, you ended up bringing the food back to Haechan’s apartment just a short walk away. This is where time started flying past. The two of you turned on an old cartoon show to watch while you ate, but once you were finished, your own voices quickly overtook the sound of the television.

It was a strange truth to find out - that you and Haechan actually got along swimmingly, taking to each other like a duck to water. Of course, up until the last week or so, the majority of your time knowing each other was spent either ignoring one another or exemplifying passive aggression; so your ability to actually carry a conversation for hours was a very new concept, but one you could hardly take the time to question when you were too busy laughing until you couldn’t breathe.

Haechan was the first to calm down after the last bout of laughter shared in the living room, and he leaned his head against the front of the couch - the two of you opted to sit on the floor as you ate since there was no coffee table to place everything on; not to mention the couch wasn’t that comfortable in the first place.

He rolled his head to the side so he could look at you, your eyes squeezed shut as you bite on your bottom lip to try and stop more laughs from leaving your system. He let a soft grin come across his face as he took in your presence, and the fact that he was happy here with you. “Remind me to thank Mark for convincing you to transfer,” he says gratefully, traces of a laugh still tainting his light voice. Though, all at once, your body stills, and you open your eyes to meet his soft gaze before swiftly bringing your focus to where you had begun messing with your fingers in your lap.

“Oh. It wasn’t really- he didn’t convince me, so to speak. I had to transfer.” You fumble through your words, embarrassment tinging your cheeks a shade of pink.

Haechan furrowed his brows at you. “What do you mean?” He asks curiously, and you can’t help the heavy sigh that escapes you.

You stop fidgeting, but you can’t bring your gaze up from your lap as you respond smoothly. “I was really, badly depressed. Not to mention half the student body at SM used to actually bully me," you recall with a scoff.

“At the end of the day, I just wanted my brother closer than thirty minutes away from me. Helped me feel less alone, or at least helped me not make rash decisions, I mean- I hated myself. Wasn’t sure I was anything but a waste of space, honestly; and the idea of going to my brother to be talked down felt better than going to my friends, cause I always thought they would leave me if all I did was come to them with struggles. My brother can’t leave, he’s stuck with me. Though most of the time, that doesn’t really make it any easier - it’s still putting so much responsibility on Mark, when he’s probably the last person who needs any more added to his plate. Regardless, he does his best - and only partly because he's forced to," you say with a weak laugh before continuing softly.

"In transferring here, my parents made him promise that he wouldn’t allow me to throw myself into oncoming traffic, or maybe it was off a bridge. I don’t know. Something stupid but-��

You cut yourself off when you hear what you think is a sniffle from beside you. You whip your head over to look and get confirmation that he’s actually crying. “Haechan?” You get out worriedly, your brows furrowing as you take in his wide watery eyes and small trembles. You reach out to wipe away at the tears racing down his face, and he just shakes his head against your hold.

“Don’t leave. Don’t you ever dare leave,” he manages to get out somewhat firmly. Your lips form a tight smile at his care and you shake your head, trying to dispel his worries.

“I’m not-” You start, but he cuts you off and you’re sure it’s because he doesn’t quite believe you…not that you could blame him.

He moves from sitting flat on the ground to instead lean over and engulf you in a hug, made awkward by the fact that he was practically just ramming his body into your side. You didn’t care, you wrapped your arms around him the best you could as he gets out choked words. “I need you. Here. I need you here,” he hiccups, and you break.

“Haechan…it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you say, trying your best not to cry now, too as you begin to rub a hand up and down his back.

You feel a light poke at your side and glance down to see his pinkie outstretched. You look back up to face him in confusion, but his eyes are still directed towards the floor, not to mention squeezed shut. “P-promise,” he gets out weakly. With the tears staining his face, the shaking of his body, and his choked words, you knew you never wanted to see Haechan like this ever again. So, without truly realizing how much this pinky promise was going to mean to him, you lace your finger with his and watch as the smallest wave of relief crashes over him.

He falls more decidedly against you, and you hold him there tightly, running your fingers gently across his clothes and through his hair. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, but you know you didn’t let up from the hug until he was completely rid of tears. Though, when you lift your arms up and allow him to sit back upright, he doesn’t, and a small smile crosses your face as you gently place your arms back around his figure.

You hadn’t seen him look this small ever before, and the fact that he was being this emotional and vulnerable with you was making warmth spread through your entire body. You only hoped it could transfer through the hug you had him in, figuring he probably needed it more right now - for some reason, it couldn't click that he was crying over you, that he was currently concerned about making sure you felt comforted and cared for...though that quickly changes with his next words.

“I’m sorry I was a dick to you earlier,” he finally says with resolve. You move to shake your head and dismiss it, but he presses on. “I treated you poorly for no reason, and I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is remind you of someone from your old school. I’ll do better. I promise all I’ll ever try to do is put a smile on your face, but if it’s ever not genuine, I need you to know that you can come to me, confide in me, whatever. Your heavy feelings aren’t going to scare me away. You don’t need to ever pretend around me, and if I’m the only person who has made that clear, then so be it, I’ll be your rock.”

He finally moves as he says this so that he can make eye contact with you, unfortunate because you had finally started crying at his words. “It’s so hard,” you squeak out. “With my family, I mean - I just want to be a good daughter- a good sister. They don’t deserve all that stress of my mental health. I- I broke my family’s heart telling them how I thought of myself…the point I was reaching. I don’t ever want to worry them like that again.” As you finish, your attention is turned towards where Haechan lightly grabbed your hand in his.

“You broke mine, too, but you need to understand that I’ll let you break it over and over again if it means you aren’t going through this alone.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone and it sends even more tears racing down your cheeks. He sighs, bringing a hand up to wipe gently under your eyes. “Y/n,” he says, his voice soft but filled with intent.

You nod your head, knowing what he was looking for - any confirmation that you were actually taking in his words. “Thank you,” you say weakly, causing a corner of Haechan’s mouth to perk up in a soft grin.

His hand that was previously at your cheek moves up to eventually run back down through your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. “Do you wanna watch The Aristocats?” He asks gently.

Your wide eyes meet his. “You’d watch it with me again?” You respond in awe.

Haechan lets out a small laugh, turning his gaze to the floor before shaking his head and looking in your teary eyes again. “You said it’s your comfort movie…I’d watch it a thousand times.”

[previous] -> [masterlist] -> [next]

a/n: yuhhhh

Taglist: @fullsunstrawberry @choizzn @raevyng @dudekiss3r @yewshi @artsenthusiastk77 @injunnie-lemon @markeroolee @chan-yeoldelling @sunflowerhae @mystverse @urlovelily @luvandletter @jeonghansshitester @dinonuguaegi @untilthesunrises @clean-soap @andassortedkpop @dlin3 @roseangelxfuma @gomdoleemyson @simmsunshine @swanyvess @awktwurtle @t-102 @kukkurookkoo

@hahaechans @ypoom151999 @goldenclosethobi

[weeping-vintage-toes]

I'm super fucking overstimulated rn and people keep pissing me off.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Eyes Only For You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

“Hey, baby” You say smiling walking into the kitchen greeting your boyfriend who you missed so much after a whole day filled with meetings.

Lando was free for another week before returning to the races, and you really had a lot of work to do the whole week. You had a lot of meetings and events to attend so you’ve been out of the house and even out of the town most of the time.

You hated it when Lando was free and you had a lot of work to do and couldn't take full advantage of his rare free time. And so when such days happen, you always rush home at the end of the day, eager to see him and cuddle him and just rest in his arms.

That's how you thought it would be this evening too, but as soon as you entered the room and saw that Lando didn't even turn to you when you greeted him, you immediately felt that something was up.

“Hi” He says apathetically looking for something in the fridge and not paying attention to the fact that you finally came home after being away all day.

He was angry. You read it right away. You could tell by his tone, but you decided to ignore it at first.

You walked up to him from the other side of the kitchen island and hugged him from behind while he was still standing in front of the fridge looking into it.

“Where is Mila?” You ask.

Oh, and you were also babysitting Mila for the night. His brother and sister in law and Mila were in town so you offered to watch her tonight so they could have some time to themselves and go on a date.

“She fell asleep in the living room a little while ago.” He said not engaging in further conversation.

“I missed you today” You say leaving a small kiss against his bare back.

“Yeah? How was your day?” He asks taking the salad dressing from the fridge and walking up to the kitchen island where his chicken salad was.

“It was..hectic.” You say looking at him. “Been waiting to come home to you.” You say softly trying to get anything out of him, but failing when he continues to be silent and ignore you focusing on making his salad.

“Lan? Is everything okay?” You finally ask.

“Well,” He sighs and somewhat aggressively throws the soiled fork into the kitchen sink making you wince slightly. “It was up until two hours ago when some pictures of you from the Boss Show in Milan emerged.”

“What pictures?” You ask confused, immediately going over the events of that day in Milan in your head.

He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, unlocks it and throws it in front of you on the surface of the kitchen island. “Care to explain?”

You stare at the picture on his cell phone of you and Michele Morrone and you immediately remember the situation you had with him that day that you were not even aware that someone had taken a picture of it and published it on the Internet.

In the picture, you were leaving the fashion show and he was grabbing your elbow. You met him for the first time that day and you talked about nothing more than the looks from the show, but it was quite obvious to you that he was indirectly hitting on you here and there. You grabbed his attention and he didn't spare you a few compliments, but at no point did you give him reason to think you were interested in him.

When you were leaving the fashion show, you didn't even know that he came out after you. He grabbed your elbow before you walked over to the waiting car and asked if he could have your number to which you replied that you have a boyfriend and that you’re in a happy relationship.

“Oh my God..” You sigh before explaining what exactly happened in the picture.

“Did you give him your number?” Lando asks even though you had said you didn’t.

“Of course I didn’t, Lando?” You say a bit offended that he even had to ask such a thing.

“Why didn't you tell me right away instead of me having to look at the pictures of my girlfriend with that fucking- porn actor?”

“I don’t ever tell you when things like that happen because I don’t care about that stuff and because I’m not interested in anyone but you!”

“What the fuck? What do you mean ‘when things like that happen’? Do guys hit on you a lot?”

“Lando..please” You were already getting exhausted from this kind of conversation. You considered it so unimportant that you almost forgot it happened, but you could understand why Lando was upset about it.

“No, tell me, y/n!”

“Yes, guys do hit on me, but I never ever respond to any of that in any kind of way whatsoever!”

“Oh, that’s really nice. Very comforting.” He says sarcastically.

“What? Am I so unattractive that it comes as such a surprise to you?”

“No, fuck..of course not. I just-“ He sighs running his hands through his hair. “I just thought everyone knew you were mine..”

“Lando, as long as I know that I’m yours, it doesn’t matter what other guys think or try to do. And I can’t believe that you would even think that I was doing something behind your back. I can’t believe you don’t trust me, Lando?” It hurt you because you never gave him a reason to doubt you. Your relationship was pure and full of love for each other. Topics like this have never even been in the conversation.

He deeply sighs again and steps closer to you cupping your face making you look up at him. “It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s others. I don’t want someone to steal you from me. I’m sorry”

“That could never happen.” You say looking up at him.

He pulls your face closer to his wanting to kiss you, but you move your head to the left avoiding the kiss.

“I’m going to change. I’m tired.” You move away from him and go to your shared bedroom.

Your mood was no longer up to par and you weren't as happy and excited as you were half an hour ago and you blamed Lando for that. On the one hand, you understood him, but on the other hand, you couldn't believe that he doubted you even for a slight moment.

It especially hurt you because you knew that girls are hitting on him every chance they get and that they obsess over him all the time not caring in the slightest that he has a girlfriend and yet you never showed him it bothered you because you know he only has eyes for you.

You took a quick shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Although you were still sad about the things that went down with Lando, you wanted to see Mila and hang out with her in case she woke up because it was only 7 p.m. so you headed to the living room shortly after taking the shower.

You knew she was awake when you approached the living room and heard Lando and her chatting about the Minions that Lando had turned on on the TV. It was more of Lando's favorite cartoon than Mila’s honestly. You walked over closer and saw Lando

Lando was lying on the couch and Mila was lying next to him with her head resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her. The sight melted your heart. You loved their relationship. You loved seeing him spend time with her and bond and you loved the way she loved him.

“Auntie!!” Mila exclaimed when she saw you.

“Hey, cutie” You smiled at her sitting on the couch next to Lando and giving her a hug. “Are you guys watching the Minions?”

“Yess!!” She said excitedly.

“Wanna join us?” Lando asked, his eyes pleading for you to say yes.

You nodded your head bringing a huge smile to Lando's face. He opened his free arm for you so you can cuddle up to him. When you laid your head against his chest as well as Mila, he tightly wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head quietly whispering “I’m sorry”

You just looked up at him and kissed his chin without saying a word.

Halfway through the movie, Mila slowly began to fall asleep again. Lando was gently rubbing her back the whole time and when he would stop for a moment she would startle and say "Lala, more" so Lando had to continue until she fell asleep and you just found his gesture so adorable.

“I can't wait to see you like this with our own baby.” You said softly.

“What? Are you-?”

“I’m not pregnant, Lan” You chuckled. “I’m just saying, one day I hope.”

“You want babies with me?” He asked his fingers playing with your hair and looking into your eyes as you lifted your gaze up.

“Of course I do. I think about it often.” You admit that every now and then you find yourself daydreaming about your perfect little family and it makes you so excited about the future.

“Yeah? I do too, baby. I dream of holding you both just like this, waking up next to you, taking care of you.” He says pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Should we make it a reality soon?”

“I think we should, Lan”

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hard Launching ∘°∘♡∘°∘

Summary: lando and y/n wanted to hard launch their relationship after dating secretly for a while. lando finds the perfect way to do so.

☘ ln x reader ✧˖*°࿐

☘ fluff + humour ✧˖*°࿐

masterlist ☾☼

lando and y/n had been discussing for a while about hard launching their relationship. they had managed to keep it out of the media for an entire season, but the media liked to paint lando as a villain, in more ways than one. not only were they attacking his skills on track, they began collecting pictures of lando with women, no matter how many years ago, and publishing them with articles about him being a womanizer.

the funniest ones were the pictures of lando and her sister out on some bonding time. reading those articles always made y/n laughed, and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t have them bookmarked in her browser for a pick me up when she was having a bad day.

at first, they had thought of doing a simple post with a cheesy caption. enough to let the fans knows that he was off the market again. but, it also felt kind of boring, and that was not lando or y/n’s style.

they discussed it for weeks, looking at different social media websites for inspiration, until it struck lando. scrolling through instagram, he’d found the perfect way to hard launch his relationship with his girlfriend.

when y/n asked him, he said, “you’ll just have to wait like the rest of the world, my love. but, i know you’re going to love it.”

y/n waited, just like he had told her to. she waited for two months, until one day, in the middle of her work, she received the instagram notification of lando posting and tagging her. this was the moment, y/n thought.

opening instagram, she found a reel, instead of a post or a story like she assumed. quickly, wearing her airpods, y/n clicked on the reel, increasing the volume in the background.

the reel opened with someone recording lando as he walked, head down and concentrated. the person recording said, “excuse me, what are you listening to right now?”

lando took out one of his airpods, and said, “my girlfriend yapping,” and then walked away.

the reel immediately cut to different instances of y/n talking and lando patiently listening. they were all sped up videos, and y/n watched her animated hands as she ranted, and lando listening, changing his position every so often. the music in the background was a lively, jaunty sound, and it fit so well with the reel.

there were a series of videos, from their home, from the paddock, from conference rooms where they were waiting for zak, or even from the gym where lando worked out, and y/n basically followed him, still talking his ear off. there were multiple videos of them on facetime as well, or screenshots of their hour - hour and half long conversations.

y/n laughed. it truly was the perfect way for lando to hard launch their relationship. it described them perfectly, if she did say so herself.

scrolling through the comments, she saw a lot of fans crying that he was a taken man now. she saw some saying things like, “this is the realest representation of a relationship.” there were some hate comments too, but they were stupid, so she ignored them.

she commented on the post as well, typing, “wait till i send you a 20 minute voice note on my lunch break” to which lando immediately responded with, “can’t wait, i got my airpods and my phone fully charged”

y/n laughed again, opening her text messaging app, and sending a quick “i love you this was perfect” to her boyfriend.

·̩̩̥͙＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥͙

hi! i hope you guys enjoyed this! it came to me while i was driving to college! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[strawb3heart]

LALA!

warning: none

summary: The one where Lando Norris lies to a girl he just met who happens to then turn into his friend or something else..

NOT PROOFREAD!! My first language isn't English so sorry if there's any mistake.

Italy, 2022

"What do you mean if I'm sure? Of course I'm sure, Max. I've already decided" said a furious man while he was on the phone with his best friend "I think it will be the best thing to do to regain my sanity"

The brown-haired boy was more than fed up with being involved in senseless dramas, so he planned what was his best idea, traveling to a small town where he could live a vacation away from all the false and senseless rumors.

"If you think it's the best thing, I support you" Fewtrell finished saying, surrendered to the explosive character of his best friend "Just don't forget that you will have to return for the race in Belgium" And without anything else to say, the call ended.

Putting the phone in the back of his jeans, the brunette headed towards what seemed to be the house he had rented in a moment of desperation.

Upon arriving, reality finally hit him. What had he done? He should have been training, but he was once again avoiding his problems.

But there was no turning back, or at least that was what it seemed.

"Buongiorno" a small voice seemed to have taken him out of his thoughts, making Lando turn around in search of that voice.

"Elio! Non parlare con gli sconosciuti" a woman appeared behind a small child who didn't seem to be older than five years old. "Excuse me" The blonde seemed to have realized that he wasn't from around here

"No problem, he's a very cute little boy. What's his name?" The brown-haired boy greeted the little blonde boy who was now behind his mother? Sister? relative, hiding while being a bit shy.

"His name is Elio" She introduced the little kid "Are you new around here? I don't think I've seen you before" the stranger added, seeming disconcerted by his presence.

"I just came for vacation, you know, looking for some peace and quiet" To which the girl laughed softly

"Well, I think you're in the right place for that. If it's not too much of an intrusion, what do you do?"

"I..." the brown-haired boy hesitated. Why would I have to share the complete information with a stranger, right? "I'm an engineer, I work with cars and everything that is mechanics"

"Well, I guess we'll see you around here..."

"Max, my name is Max" he didn't know why but he was starting to regret on lying.

"Nice name, mine is Y/n, well, it was interesting meeting you, Max" And with that, the blonde continued on her way, walking hand in hand with little Elio, who gave her one last curious look before following the girl.

And that's how the boy stood there, in the middle of the boulevard, thinking about the interaction he had just had with the rather attractive girl.

As he set off again towards the place where he would be staying, he couldn't help but think about the crazy situation that he had created

But those thoughts lasted very little when he saw the incredible view he had from his room. Was all of Italy that resplendent?

The view of the sea was easily one of the most incredible he had ever had and the peaceful atmosphere provided him with the peace he was looking for.

From afar, he couldn't help but notice the blonde he had just been talking to. Although now, Y/n was sitting on the seashore, along with Elio, the boy who now seemed to be enjoying the water and the warm day.

Without really knowing why, Norris decided to leave the villa, thus approaching the place where the duo was.

"Sorry, I know I just met you, but I really wanted some company" said the brown-haired boy, looking quite embarrassed to see how his arrival had caught the attention of the younger and the blonde.

"Sure, don't worry. Elio, do you want to say hello to Max?" the boy, after hearing those words, turned to look at the young woman

"Mom, didn't you say not to talk to strangers?" the boy said with a mischievous smile while the girl laughed

"I know what I said, honey, but Max didn't want to be alone, why don't you try to talk to him?" the mother replied, giving him a smile

Lando Norris couldn't hide his surprise, how is it that that young woman was already a mother?

"Max, do you like building sand castles?" asked little Elio, still a little shy and even scared.

The brown-haired boy, now showing a big smile, nodded, seeing how the child's face lit up with his answer.

Lando Norris still had no idea what would happen that summer, and he also didn't know what that white lie would cost him.

Pt.2

requests are always open 🌷

[girlgenius1111]

alone.

i wrote this in maybe a half hour and it's very short but i was very in my feels so you get angsty sol as a result before the events of family line. sol struggles. there is change on the horizon, but she doesn't see it.

-----

It was the same every morning, the same every day. A quick knock would wake you, a second knock a few minutes later telling you it was time to get up. You’d throw on clothes that didn’t quite fit with Spain’s climate, tie your hair up in a bun, and go downstairs. 

Breakfast was always quiet, ever since the first few weeks, when Ingrid had tried to engage you in conversation and you rejected every attempt. She’d ask you a question that would remind you how little she knew about your life now. You’d snap back at her unintentionally, she’d get angry, and the table would fall quiet. Eventually, it just stayed quiet. 

You’d go to school, barely understand a word spoken to you. Scrape by with passable grades, most of the time. Go back to Ingrid’s house. Do your school work at the kitchen table, where she could keep an eye on you. Hide in your room until dinner. Hide in your room after dinner. Distract yourself with a mindless show, or more often, a nature documentary of some kind. Fall asleep, dream of lakes and forests and grass and mountains; things that could never be disappointed in you. 

You went through the motions. Step by step, day after day. Not really living, just existing. Not trying, either. 

You’d stop trying a long time ago. Long before Spain, before the small, bland extra bedroom you slept in. Before disappointed looks had begun to come from your sister. You’d stopped trying when you were still in Norway, still disappointing your parents. 

Back in Norway, you felt content being mostly invisible. Your parents ignoring you was better than being yelled at, though they still did that a fair amount.There was something about being here, though, in Spain that was just… different. 

Perhaps it was that part of you, little you, who still remembered Ingrid as someone who gave the best hugs and always knew how to make you smile. Little you hadn’t ever had much hope in her parents, but she’d had hope in Ingrid. That part of you clung to the idea that Ingrid could still make everything better, like she had when you were small. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t let go of that hope. 

It crushed you, time and time again, when Ingrid yelled at you, or frowned at a bad grade, or sent you to your room for being a few minutes past curfew, without even letting you explain why you’d been late [there’d been a turtle in the road on your walk from the climbing gym, and it had taken 5 minutes you didn���t have to make sure it got across safely]. When she’d sigh after another weekend passed, and you remained locked in your room. When she’d tell you to just try harder. At speaking Spanish, at making friends, at school. 

You didn’t have anything left to give. All of your energy was spent dragging yourself out of bed. Why couldn’t she see that? Growing up, it had felt like Ingrid had been the only one to see you. Now, though, she was just like everyone else. She saw what your parents saw, you decided. Someone who just wasn’t worth it. 

Ingrid had always loved you. Even when it was hard to believe that your parents did, Ingrid always told you she loved you. She hadn’t said it in a while, though. You hadn’t heard from your Mamma in weeks, the last text you’d gotten from your Pappa had been scolding you for spending too much money. [You’d bought Ingrid a birthday present, but he made you return it before you could give it to her]. 

Maybe you just weren’t someone who could be loved. You rolled onto your side, covering your ears to block out the sound of Ingrid’s loud laughter at something Mapi had said. Tears dripped off your face, and you wished you were 7 again, burying your face in your sister’s shoulder and knowing that as long as she had you, you’d be okay. That was back when she loved you, though. You were pretty sure she didn’t anymore. How could she? When all you did was screw up, who could love someone like you? 

You weren’t 7 anymore, you were 17, and you were all alone. In a house hundreds of miles away from home, with your sister who you felt like you barely knew anymore. All alone. You were beginning to think that was all you’d ever be. Alone. 

You didn’t know a lot of things, though. You didn’t know about the book shoved under Ingrid’s pillow, about troubled teens. You didn’t know that she’d stand in your doorway sometimes, just watching you sleep. Enjoying that, at least while resting, you didn’t frown. 

You didn’t know your Pappa picked up the phone often, but never called, feeling like he’d created a gap he wasn’t sure he could ever fix. Didn’t know that sometimes your Mamma slept in your bed, remembering the small child that had once smelled of syrup and brought her flowers from the garden. 

You didn’t know that Mapi stayed up late at night, duolingo open on her phone, hoping that maybe speaking a language you understood would make you feel more at home. 

You didn’t know that Ingrid loved you more than her heart could take, sometimes, and that she was just doing what she thought would work. She didn’t realize you didn’t need discipline, that you just needed a support system. 

Things would improve, but you didn’t know that. As you sobbed into your pillow, you were pretty sure you’d always feel like this; unloved and completely alone. 

[frost-queen]

Witches road// part 2 (Fem!reader x Agatha Harkness)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic,@alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer, @slythetic , @p0nycurtis , @quailbagutte , @fantasticcroissantpandagarden, @lanfear-is-my-darkmistress

Summary: Summoning the witches road, you are met up with the first trial. Being close around Agatha once more breaks unfamiliar things out of you. Can you overcome your fears and get a sense of what is becoming of you. [Witches road series]

Gather sisters fire

Water, earth and air

You quirked your eyebrow intriguingly up when you entered the house. Hand sliding on the doorframe whilst entering. Making a loud hum sound, looking around. – “What?” – Agatha asked entering behind you. – “Nothing.” – you responded looking over your shoulder to her. – “It’s just not you.” – you gestured at the clean suburban lifestyle, something unlike her.

“Well I didn’t have it to the picking Y/n.” – Agatha responded annoyed. Chuckling amused, you walked to the living room. Seeing another witch already present. With wide eyes, she looked at you. – “Are my eyes deceiving me?” – she questioned. – “They are not.” – Agatha responded walking past her. Your familiar jumped on the sofa making Agatha hurry over.

“Uh-uh no pets on the couch.” – she started clapping her hands to scare him away. Your familiar hissed back in defence, making her pull her hands back. – “Fine then sit.” – she replied bothered. Jennifer’s gaze went from you to Agatha, keeping a close eye on it. Trying to find something subtle in her behaviour.

She got quickly disrupted when the other witches walked in. – “Let’s summon the road.” – Agatha said happily, clasping in her hands. You started humming the tune of the hymn, going towards her basement. – “Is… is she alright?” – Alice asked with a point at you.

Agatha waved it away, going after you. Down her basement you all came to stand in a circle. Agatha came standing beside you. You glanced down at her offering hand, humming in disagreement as you went around taking Jennifer’s hand. Agatha narrowed her eyes with a soft glare.

Your familiar meowed near her feet, startling her. Looking down at the black cat, she showed him her clawed hand. It made your familiar hiss back at her, hairs up straight. Agatha straightened her posture. A sudden thundering made her freak out. – “Let’s get a move on.”

She grabbed their hands, readying themselves to sing the witches ballad.

Seekest thou the road

To all that's foul and fair

Gather sisters fire

Water, earth and air

Darkest hour, wake thy power

Earthly and divine

Burn and brew with coven true

And glory shall be thine

Your gaze went upwards sensing the hauntingly arrival. Their presence carried by the screeching wind. Like a banshee’s cry sending a wave of crumbled leaves with them. The pressing hour of the witches road nearing. Only one chance to succeed for else the seven would devour her.

Your familiar jumped on your shoulder, laying his tail around your neck. Squeezing your newly sister’s hands, you sang along. The words you had carved in your head for centuries. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road. A pulsating force made you move your chest a bit back. Taken back by it’s intensity. The seven had entered the house. Having stepped over the boundaries.

Your gaze went to Agatha in front of you. Seeing her sing with fear in her eyes. Very well aware of the troubles waiting upstairs. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road.

The chanting became louder and louder. Overpowering the rumbling from upstairs. The ceiling shuddering with snippets of dust fluttering down. Squeezing their hands tight, you felt the primal force of a coven brewing down deep. Gaze fixating at Agatha with a hard stare. Maiden, mother, crone. An ominous sound seeped through the house.

Thundering with an ominous omen. A path one should not take. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road. Roared through the basement. Chanting loudly with every might from your lungs. Elevating with the brewing hymn. Looking up, you let the chanting fully consume you. To glory at the end.

Hands were released as all looked breathless at each other. For an eerie moment, everyone wondered if it worked. Emptiness. Whilst Agatha and the others were bickering. Knowing what was at her doorstep, you lowered yourself. Kneeling down to touch the cold ground. Your familiar jumped off your back, meowing soft.

You started to hum the hymn once more, brushing your hand over the ground. Closing your eyes briefly. When your hands felt roughness, you opened your eyes once more. Thundering rushed down the stairs as the teen appeared out of breath. – “Is that the door?” – he asked breathless. All looked at him before looking down at the ground. You were smiling wickedly at the door. Agatha immediately knelt down to pull the slots open.

“Help me!” – she yelled out with urgency. All came to her help. Revealing a set of steps. Stone and cold. You whistled brief as your familiar jumped on your shoulder. – “Down, down, down.” – you whispered taking the first step. Others quickly followed, going down. Letting the road consume them. Agatha closed the doors before the seven could claim her.

Following the glowing bouncing off the walls, you lead them down. A smile curling up when you met with the woods. Taking a deep breath, you let it consume your lungs. Letting it take over every breath of you. The teen came standing beside you, smiling excitingly at you. You smiled back at him as your black cat stuck his head out to him. The teen looked wonderous over to you.

With a simple nod of yours, you accepted. The teen reached out to scratch your cat behind the ear. – “May I ask you something Y/n?” – he dared to ask, lowering his hand. You hummed softly with a nod. – “How… why… why… were… you?” – he started, stumbling a bit over his words. Unsure how to phrase it. – “Buried?” – you responded knowing where he was going with it.

Staring off into the distance, your mind got pulled back a memory. Standing frozen as the teen tried to get a reaction out of you by waving his hand before you. – “Crawling all the way…” – you said numbly. Your cat meowed in your ear, making you shake your head awake.

Plastering on a smile, you looked back at the teen. Tapping his nose with a playful shrug. You then hummed loudly to hop after the others. – “Is… is she alright?” – Alice asked Jennifer lowly. Jennifer moved her gaze onto you. – “I’ve only heard rumours, but she was betrayed…” – Jennifer responded. – “By whom?” – Alice wanted to know. Jennifer only looked in Agatha’s direction as it said enough.

Alice nodded nervously as it made a bit more sense. Agatha came to a stop, turning round to everyone. – “We will be tested at every possible given.” – she explained. There were some uncertainties amongst the sisters. Unsure how they would be tested to find glory at the end. – “Shall we?” – Agatha exclaimed, clasping her hands together. She noticed your gaze was fixated on the ground. 

Staring lost at it, almost like in trance. Agatha chuckled nervously coming over to you. She came standing behind you, taking you by the shoulders. – “Y/n, let’s go.” – she whispered to you, her lips close to your cheek. You numbly rocked your body wobbly on your heel. – “Let’s go…” – she repeated tugging on your shoulder to follow her.

When Agatha turned around she noticed Mrs. Hart… uhum Sharon had taken off. It made her groan loud needing to search for her. All of you started to run, hearing screams. Screams filling the witches road like an embrace. Familiar and known. Your eyes widened seeing Mrs. Hart trying to pull her purse out of a puddle of mud. Slowly devouring her purse. Making it one with the earth.

You rushed over to her, grabbing her by the ankles, ready to pull along with Jennifer as your eyes fell on the mud puddle. Seeing how it was swallowing the purse whole. It made your whole heart empty, waiting for the beat to come out. – “Y/n! Y/n!” – Jennifer called out as you weren’t helping.

Agatha noticed the trauma reflecting deep in your eyes as it made her come to assist. Grabbing the ankle with your hands around it to assist in tugging. Mrs. Hart got pulled back, making you fall down. Blinking rapidly, you crawled on top of Agatha. A distant look in your eyes, as you held a stick against her throat. Pushing it slightly into her skin.

Cheeks trembling with fury as a part of you wanted to jab it through her throat. Agatha had moved her hands up, seeing you were miles away. A darkness deep in your eyes. – “Y/n.” – the teen spoke approaching you. – “Lower the stick…it’s alright…” – he said calmly, reassuring you. – “Y/n… it’s alright…” – he came kneeling beside you.

“Let Agatha go Y/n.” – he spoke softly reaching for your hand. Panting loud, your hand trembled. Once the teen moved his hand over yours, it seemed to steady. He slowly moved the stick away from Agatha’s throat. Taking your other hand to help you off Agatha and up your feet. Agatha touched her throat for a pinch.

“I’m…I’m sorry…” – you told the teen, not sure what overcame you. – “It’s alright.” – he responded with a soft smile. Your familiar came brushing against your leg, making you look down at him. Kneeling down, you picked him up, letting him snuggle against your chest.

The comfort of him brought you back to reality. Not sure what had overcome you. – “Has that always been there?” – Jennifer asked after some silence. Making you all look at the house in the distance. Agatha smirked coming nearer. All of you followed her towards the house. You remained in the back, feeling out of yourself. Like you had no idea who this person was.

This person that seemed to keep trying to crawl her way out. Been in the darkness for a very long time. Chained and shackled. The house was warningly welcoming.  Looking at the others, you saw there had been a change in appearances. It made you rub your hands nervously together. By the diner table, you stood holding the glass of wine up.

Mrs. Hart drank the wine in one breath, making you raise your brow at her. – “Shall we take the girl talk to the sofa?” – she said tipsy making you all return to the living room. You took a deep breath, feeling a shiver up your spine when Agatha stroke her finger up your arm.

“Do not drink it.” – she whispered to you with a witchy smile. It made you stare down your glass. Seeing the wine swirl around like blood. Glaring at her, you moved the glass up. – “I stray not from the path, I hold death’s hand in mine.” – you told her before emptying your glass down your throat. Down, down, down it went. Agatha’s gaze widened. With a beckoning look, you threw your glass against the ground.

Shattering into a dozen pieces. It made her jump back to avoid the shatters. The first symptoms appeared with Mrs. Hart. Her face all swollen, you could barely recognize her. Then it consumed the others. Taking each and one witch. Poison. The wine was poisoned. Your cat meowed soft at the first trial. Counting down till the hour of death. Waiting patiently at the door for unsuccess.

For the only wakening to keep death at bay was an antidote. Jennifer send everyone off. You went with Lilia and Agatha. Haunted by the hour of death and it’s testing. For a witch would be tested greatly.

The chime of a bell made you stop in your tracks. Lilia and Agatha continuing. Another bell chimed as it send a shiver down your spine. Feeling the room turn, you slowly turned around. An ominous sound grasping you when you stared down at an empty grave. A bell chiming twice.

A banshee’s cry carried by the wind as crumbled leaves fluttered over your feet. Down. Down. Down. The empty hole in the grave seemingly enlarging till the very crust of the earth. A gaping mouth ready to swallow you whole. Your body started to shock a bit. Feeling a cough come up. The bell chimed for a third time. Trying to hold in the coughs. A thickness in your throat.

Coughing loud, you coughed up earth. Dry earth, coughed out like powder. Seeping out of your mouth as it made you sink to your knees. Kneeling at the bed of the grave, the bellowing emptiness below. Down. Down. Down. Coughing more, the earth from your mouth fell in the empty grave.  

Feeling yourself choke on the earth and sand in your mouth. There seemed to be no end. Thy breathing woven to earth. Trying to grasp for air, you grasped your fingers down your throat. Body wobbling as you felt yourself nearly tip down the gaping mouth of your boundness. All that gravel. Chained and shackled.

Body releasing gravity as you felt weightless. Tipping forwards, ready to meet your earthy bed. A sudden grip on your shoulder made you gasp awake. Blinking rapidly at the vast ground. No more cemetery. No more grave. Touching your mouth, it was clean of any earth. – “Y/n?” – Agatha asked concerned.

She came kneeling beside you as you teared up. Letting yourself fall against her chest, you cried soft. Agatha shushing you soothingly. She placed a sorrowful kiss at the top of your head.

Gaining your senses, you pushed yourself off her. Returning to Jennifer to assist her. She noticed the spooked expression on your face. – “You too?” – she asked, making you nod. One of the side-effects of the poison you weren’t keen on. Your black cat jumped on the counter, purring loudly as you stroke his back. – “Is it true?” -Jennifer asked making you look up at her. – “Did you truly get betrayed?” – she wanted to know.

“It's my whole heart. Weighed and measured inside.” – you responded as it sounded like a riddle to her. – “Deemed and delivered a crime.” – you went on, staring into the distance, still petting your familiar. Not wanting to engage in it further, you picked up your cat, moving away from Jennifer. Jennifer nodded respectfully. The others returned all with their ingredients for the antidote.

You held on close to your familiar, watching Jennifer brew the potion. Your cat jumped onto your shoulder when you held hands to change the potions colour. Needing it to be teal. With the teens blood it reached teal. Letting a fallen hair drop in. The hour of death at your shoulder, breathing down. Trying to outrun it. To escape the hour of death, you drank the potion.

“Hurry!” – Agatha shouted as the glass had broken. Sending a flood of water inside. Your cat jumped into your arms as you ran with it to the open oven. Jennifer crawled through it first. You followed with your cat as the others were behind you. Jennifer’s scream was loud when she went down the slide. Followed by laughter. Cackling with pleasure down the slide till your body bumped against hers. One by one, they went down the slide. All getting up but one. For Sharon was dead.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[repulsiveliquidation]

Mikrokosmos || Grace Clinton

summary: Grace loved her little world. she didn't know if others would too.

a/n : i don't know what this is but it's fluff! there is insinuation of sex but nothing else.

Grace was a private person. She loved her people with her whole heart but she kept her work and family separate. Don’t get it wrong, she loved her team and adored being the baby but there was a bubble in her home that she didn’t want them in. 

Her mikrokosmos. 

There were two people in there that mattered more to her than football. She was willing to do anything at all to protect it from the outside world. 

You were sitting in a quiet little bookstore one day, your little nephew in your lap. He was munching on a bit of sausage from your sausage roll as you read a little novel in a corner. The smell of coffee mixed in with the books perfectly, you found yourself sitting here every other day to relax and get some peace away from your chaotic life. 

“Is this seat taken?” a Liverpool accent asks and it startles you a little. You look up and see the most beautiful pair of eyes looking down at you. The Liverpool accent smiles, pointing to the seat across from you. You stutter and nod, smiling at her awkwardly. 

“He’s cute,” the accent tells you, smiling at your nephew Jake. He giggles and the accent giggles back, her hand coming up to tickle his cheek. 

“Say hi Jakie,” you tell him, his hand grabbing at the girl tickling him. 

“Hi Jakie, I’m Grace,” she says, cooing when his little hand finds her finger. 

“He likes you,” you tell her, book and pastry forgotten. 

“That makes two of us,” she says with a grin, looking up at you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here with the cutest baby in the world?” 

“It’s quiet, plus he likes the strawberry tart Michelle makes.” 

She turns to Jake, who’s trying to eat your blouse, to boop his nose. “You, little man,” she begins, booping his nose again; he giggles, “have great taste.” 

Grace stands, eyes sparkling in your corner of the quiet bookstore cafe.

“Can I buy you another coffee and a tart for my new favorite person?” 

“Only if you promise to sit here a while and share.” 

“Deal.” 

“Baby! I’m home!” 

“Mama!” 

A two year old knocks into her knees and she picks him up, heart growing fonder when his little giggle rang through the living room. 

“Hi little buddy,” Grace smiles, walking into your office with Jake on her hip. He tucks his face in her neck, calming into her hold when he feels her rub his back. 

“Hi baby,” you greet Grace, looking up from your desk in the corner. Your heart melts when you see Jake already falling asleep in her arms; you were struggling to put him down for his nap earlier so he was a little grumpy at tea. 

Jake was your nephew but when your sister fell into some bad habits, he was about to go into the foster system. You loved him dearly and couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him so young so you made the decision to adopt him. He had always called you Mommy when he first spoke and didn’t know his mother to be his mother. She abandoned him when she got clean and wanted a new life abroad with her boyfriend so you raised him as your own. 

Sure it got your weird stares since you were so young and Jake looked alot like you since his mother looked like you too. But you didn’t care, he was going to be loved and cared for under your roof, who cared about who said what. 

When Grace came along, you warned her about the things you had heard people say about you. Her job would have only brought on more stress for you and her so you were prepared for her ‘i can’t do this’ speech on the second date.

But Grace surprised you with her honesty and willingness to work it out because she didn’t want to lose you and she certainly didn’t want to lose her little buddy. 

Grace was young and didn’t need to deal with a practical newborn and a girl who was still getting her life in order but she didn’t care. She wanted you both and she was willing to do what it took. 

One thing she did the best was protect you both from rude people and weird stares. She wasn’t afraid to call people out and make them feel bad for their behavior. It made you uncomfortable at first but when you saw that more and more people left you alone, you were grateful to her. 

“Jakie here needs his nap, I think,” she says, kissing his head. 

“I tried to but he refused so you’re welcome to try,” you tell her, watching as she got a cheeky grin on her face before disappearing for a while. You hear her faintly bargaining with a two year old down the hall before the only thing you hear is the traffic below and your rambling thoughts. 

Seeing the time and deciding to clock out of work and start on dinner, you walk out of your office after turning everything off. 

Grace isn’t in the bedroom or the living room where she usually is so you tiptoe to Jake’s room. 

Grace was in his bed with him on top of her, both of them snoring just a little. Her legs stuck out from the end and her hands touched the floor but you never loved her more than you did in this very moment.

“Oh Grace,” you mumble, pulling your phone out to take a picture. You send it to your mum and make it your wallpaper before leaving the door ajar to start on dinner. 

Grace walks into Lionesses training grinning at her phone. Millie T sees her and watches as the young striker types fast and doesn’t stop grinning on her phone. She sneaks up on Grace and it startles her, making her drop her phone in surprise. 

“Mills!” 

“Sorry Gracie, who’s got ya grinnin’ like that eh?” 

“Nothin,” Grace provides, checking her phone for cracks. Millie grabs it out of her hands and runs away with it. She dodges through the rest of the girls in the gym, laughing her head off as Grace chases her. 

“Mary! Stop her!” 

Mary, who’s just walked in, grabs the lanky Millie and holds her tight, before Grace grabs her phone off her. 

“Who’s that you’ve got on your screensaver huh? Grace has got herself a little wife, girls!” 

“Shh Millie!” 

“Who’s got a wife?” Tooney asks, drinking from her water bottle. 

“Little Gracie does.” 

“I don’t,” Grace defends, “not yet at least,” she mumbles to herself. Grace walks away from the girls who are gathering around her, putting her headphones in in hopes that they’d get the message. 

Beth comes and sits beside Grace, stretching as the young United player does. The rest of the girls have gone back to warming up, Millie T standing at the weights looking a little guilty for outing her friend. 

“I’m happy for you Gracie,” Beth tells her quietly after they get their boots on, leaving the girl conflicted. 

Grace comes home after training exhausted. Sarina had them working hard as they had some important games coming up. The smell of your world-famous lasagna filled her senses when the front door shut behind her. 

“Is that Mama I hear at the door?” she hears you tell Jake before the soft patter of feet gets louder and louder. 

“Hello, love,” Grace sighs, holding Jake in one arm while snaking the other around your middle. You feel her muscles relax when your warmth blends into hers. Jake wriggles around in her arms after a while and she puts him down, watching as he goes back to his building blocks on his play mat. 

“I missed you,” she mumbles, hugging you from behind as you stir the tomato sauce. Grace kisses your nape and you lean back into her a little, realizing you missed her just as much as she did. 

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” you tell her, both of you looking at Jake who was showing the dog what blocks he had, “we both did.” 

Grace pulls out and you turn over, watching her reach for the wipes she kept in her side table. 

You drag a finger over her warm skin as she cleans you both up, leaving soft kisses all over the marks she’s left on you. 

Her face says something entirely different though, like there was something bothering her. 

“Grace?”

“Hm?” she looks up at you and you watch those eyes you fell in love with look troubled. 

“What’s wrong, love?” 

“You’ve always been able to tell when something’s bothering me.” 

“It’s because I know you, darling,” you say softly, sitting up and reaching for her chin to look up at you. “What’s the matter, lovely?” 

“Millie saw you today,” Grace sighs, now sitting cross-legged with you. Her fingers trace along the insides of your forearms, beautiful eyes refusing to look at you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Millie got my phone and saw you and Jake today.” 

“Okay,” you say, taking her hand in yours. “So?” 

“So? I’ve never told anyone about you two. Not even the girls.” 

“Why not?” 

Grace thinks, wondering what her excuse was. 

All the other girls never hid their relationships. 

Why did she?

“I love having you all to myself, I don’t want to share what we’ve got just yet.” 

“Oh honey,” you coo, realizing where all this was coming from. “The girls will understand, Gracie.”

“I don’t want to make you feel like you need to hide who you are with them.” 

“You’d never let that happen, Gracie,” you say, leaning in to kiss her soft lips. “Never.” 

You stand, walking backwards into the bathroom. You’re taunting Grace, hinting at round two in the shower. 

“Besides, I’d love to meet the girls who don’t know the baby has a baby.” 

||

“Who’s that?” 

“Who’s who?” 

“The girl Gracie’s with,” Maya gasps “and the cutest little boy ever!” 

“You wanna say hi little buddy?” Grace coos, taking Jake out of your hands before walking out towards the girls. You follow her and strike up a conversation with Beth, Lotte and Leah, watching Grace out of the corner of your eye. 

The girls fawn over Jake and seemingly Sarina joins in, practice for the day delayed by about a half hour. 

“This is what you’ve been hiding Grace?” Millie quips, tickling Jake a little as Mary makes faces at him. 

“They’re very important to me, Mills.”

“I get that,” she nods, “I’m happy for you Grace. Thank you for sharing them with us.” 

You’re sitting in the stands with Jake, watching as his eyes light up when Grace shows off her skills. He becomes a little fussy at nap time and Sarina, to your surprise, takes him from you and holds him the entire hour he naps on her shoulder while you do some work on your laptop. 

At the end of training, Grace hops the barriers to get to you. The girls have already come over and taken Jake to the locker room, his giggling makes your heart grow fonder of the girls you’ve watched on tv for years and heard stories about. 

“I think that was a successful day in the office, don’t you think?” Grace says tiredly, sitting beside you. 

“Mhm, it was,” you turn and face Grace, her perfect smile on her face when your eyes lock with hers. “The girls love Jake and it’s clear they love you. Thank you for letting them into our little world. I’d love to share more of it with them.”

“I think they’d like that.” 

“Jake! I am utterly heartbroken that you said she was your favorite!” 

“HA! I told you he liked me better!”

“FUCK OFF LOTTE!” 

“Leah! Language around the baby!”

“PWUCK!” 

“Oh no.”

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

[chloeangelic]

the paper salesman

Brother's best friend!Jim Halpert x f!reader Rating: 18+ My masterlist I Max's masterlist

Summary: You spot your childhood crush at a birthday party and end up in his room together.

Warnings: Smut, AU where Pam does not exist, alcohol, oral (f receiving), handjob, semi protected PIV, creampie, squirting.

A/N: Well, well, well, if it isn't me and my froggy friend @macfrog back with another fic. But this time, it's not satire - this one is actually serious, and we are taking full advantage of everyone's teenage crush on season 2 Jim.

Word count: 6k

You pick at the edge of your wine glass, nodding along as the sound of your brother’s girlfriend talking about work turns into a low, buzzing sort of hum, indistinguishable from the other voices in the room. It seems that turning thirty was the catalyzing event for your older brother’s birthday parties to turn from all-nighters at clubs to barbecues at his new house. The attendance changed too — what used to be a crowd of girls in tight, short dresses has been replaced by a landscape of coworkers and childhood friends that he has reconnected with over the past year. 

There’s a couple people singing karaoke by the TV across the room, and although neither of them are singing in tune, you cheer them on as you half-heartedly listen to your future sister-in-law’s story. People are scattered around in groups of two, three, or four, chatting amongst themselves against the tapestry of multicolored string lights and framed photos. You can’t imagine your brother had much to do with the interior design choices, and assume Stacie took him to the department store and filled a shopping cart with lights and lamps and frames that would make the living space for two thirty-year-old men a little less bland and sterile. 

But still, despite the obvious decorative touch of Mark’s girlfriend around the room – you can’t help but wonder which parts were chosen by his roommate.

Jim Halpert – your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember. Six-foot-something, polite and awkwardly charming. Lingering on your front steps to walk with Mark to school, backpack slung over one shoulder, or waiting patiently in the kitchen doorway while your brother finishes eating dinner, a basketball sat in the ‘c’ of his elbow. Making a whole lot of nothing conversation with your mom about school, about how his brothers were doing, growing bashful when she’d bring up girlfriends.

He’s five years older than you, but that ten-year-old ghost of yourself would sit twirling the fork in her fingers, mindlessly dragging mashed potato around her plate. Watching the way he’d toss the flicks of fringe from his eyes, cross one foot over the other as he answered every incessant question of your mother’s with the dutiful respect of a well-raised boy. Your crush was obvious back then, easily spotted by her whenever Jim stayed for dinner. You’d look away, bite back your smile and try to stifle your laugh at his jokes, hoping he wouldn’t notice. That little crush stayed with you, despite the boys you went on to date in high school, and the ones you slept with and tried to get serious with in college to no avail. Every time you came back from the holidays, Jim would inevitably show up for dinner one day, and you would revert back to that shy ten-year-old, sitting in the same seats as you did back then. 

You watched him become a man in front of your eyes, and by the time you started getting physical with your first boyfriend, little thoughts began to weasel themselves into your mind about Jim. It was entirely inappropriate, and that curiosity should have directed itself exclusively to the boy who had taken you out to the movies, to prom and to homecoming, but you wondered what Jim looked like shirtless, you wondered about his experience, about the size of his cock. One weekend in your freshman year of college, with nothing else to do but to visit your parents, you tagged along with Mark to his basketball game, and sat on the bleachers with your eyes glued to Jim, to the sweat that darkened his jersey and the undeniable bulge in his shorts. He came up to say hi after, his brown hair drenched with sweat as well, looking at you through stunning green eyes as he asked how school was going. You made him laugh with a story about a professor, and the sound of his chuckles echoed in your mind the rest of the night. He had moved out of his parents’ house by then, and started working as a salesman at a paper company in town. 

He still works there – as far as you know, at least, based on what he told you the last time you saw him, picking him and Mark up from their high school reunion two years back. 

Mark had drank a little too much and had needed Jim’s steady arm around his shoulder to direct him to your car. You swallowed down the butterflies which quickly took flight in your stomach as you watched the two figures stumble towards your Honda, the taller of the two lending you a small smile as he slotted your brother into the front seat. You kept your composure right up until he closed the front door, and then you sped all the way home with your heart racing and your blood pumping.

“Some people are just allergic to receiving help,” Stacie announces, yelling a little over the screeching of the karaoke mics. She’s rambling to one of Mark’s coworkers – Hal? Sal? – about one of her co-workers, some new kid fresh from college who can’t work the printer by himself and refuses to let her show him.

You’re about to get up for a refill when a weight slides onto the couch by your side, nudging you with a sweatered elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he mutters, and when you turn, your breath catches at the sight of those familiar green eyes and flicks of brown hair.

“Hey,” you reply, fingers awkwardly lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear. You feel a heat flush into your cheeks and pray it doesn’t show in an embarrassing dewy glow to Jim. “Cool party. Karaoke’s a nice touch.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, giving you his signature smirk. His voice is so deep, a little husky even, as he sits close, “It’s an easy way to keep the guests entertained without me having to do much of anything, or your brother, for that matter.” 

You hum in response, reluctantly annoyed that Mark is already at the front of his mind when he sees you. “Are you still working that paper job?”, you ask, raising an eyebrow and hoping that your nerves don’t come across, that he’ll simply consider you as flirty to everyone if your attempts don’t land.  

“Yeah,” he says, nodding, picking at the label of his beer bottle for a moment. 

“Salesman of the year?” 

“Well,” he chuckles, his head tilting to the side, a little unsure, “Maybe sometimes.” Is he embarrassed? Shy? You watch his eyes as they flicker up and scan the room. “What are you up to these days?”, he asks when his eyes land back on you, flaring open for a split second before they settle on yours. 

“You know,” you shrug, eyes looping once around the room, “Working, the usual.” You feel your chest tighten with an urge to come up with something more fucking interesting than work. Your fingers hooked behind your ear again, you sputter, “Got my hair done last week.”

Jim smiles, reassuringly so. “Yeah,” he says, nodding, “I can tell. It looks good. I like the, uh –”, he points a little haphazardly, “The way you styled it. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” your cheeks swell in a genuine smile, averting his gaze as the compliment seeps into your skin. You twirl the stem of your glass in your fingers, and Jim knocks a knuckle against the rim.

“You need a top up?”, he asks, standing up.

“Yeah, actually,” you reply, taking his hand when he offers it and pulling yourself to your feet.

You follow him through to the kitchen, dodging the erratic arm movements of some guy chittering to Mark about stocks, and over to the fridge. You lean your hip against the counter, watching as Jim carefully refills your wine and slides it back across to you.

You take a tentative sip under his watchful gaze, and raise your eyebrows, nodding subtly in approval as you swallow, “This is pretty good. What’s a guy like you doing with decent wine in his fridge?” 

He lets out a nervous laugh and looks around, takes a sip of the glass he poured himself. “I actually got it for a, uh- a date, a couple weeks ago,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, looking out through the dining room, “She said it was good so I figured I’d get some for tonight.” 

Oof. A tinge of jealousy makes your stomach curl, and you take another large sip, forcing it down as you think of what to say. You can still hear the out of tune melodies from the living room, though the silence between you and Jim drowns out the noise. “What did you do?”, you ask, hoping you can mask your jealousy with a sneaky tone. 

“Took her to dinner a few times, walked around a bit, came back here and had some wine.”

You want to gag, just a little bit. “And how come she’s not here tonight then?”

“Didn’t really, uh– didn’t really work out, so…” 

“So you’re just sitting here day in and day out with her wine in the fridge, waiting for her to come back?” 

Jim breathes a laugh, pushing the air from his cheeks, “Alright. Wow. That one stung.”

You giggle, taking a step closer, “I’m just messing with you,” you say into your glass. Each splash of alcohol over your tongue filling you with more courage.

He tilts his head, eyebrows cocked, “Tell me about your love life, then, up on your high horse.”

You stifle another girlish giggle, using it to mask your reaction to the awkward question. Your love life – if you could even call it that – has been even more miserable than Jim’s sounds. Messages left on read, painful first dates with jocks still stuck in their high school eras, with uptight career men who only cared to talk about themselves, or with guys who had weird hobbies and left you to pay the bill for a date they asked you on.

You’ve gotten good at avoiding the topic with your mom, turning it instead into conversation about Mark and Stacie, framing it into a question of, When are they thinking of getting married? Having kids of their own, right, Mom?, but standing in front of the one guy you’ve been shamelessly crushing on since you were ten years old – it becomes a little harder to divert.

“Uh,” you mumble, the rim of your glass balanced on your bottom lip, “I’m – I’m just taking some time to myself right now, you know? Focusing on me.”

He grins, almost gleeful. Electricity pulses through your veins. “Nice save,” he tells you, tipping his glass towards you, “I hear what you’re really saying.”

“Oh?” 

“Yep,” he says, matter-of-factly, “You also got dumped at Red Lobster.”

You snort, then apologize, closing your eyes and trying to stifle your grin as you try to collect yourself. “Red lobster,” you clear your throat, “That’s pretty bad. At least it wasn’t Chili’s. And I would know, cause I got dumped at Chili’s.” 

The two of you keep it together for a few moments, looking at the floor, until you meet each other’s eyes and burst into laughter, having this absolutely pathetic little thing in common. The sound of his laugh makes your chest flutter, the sight of his smile and his hand running through his hair. He wipes the tears from his eyes as he looks at you, and you bite the tip of your tongue, trying to halt the uncontrollable giggles that make your stomach hurt. 

When you’re composed, a couple more swigs of wine down your throat, you settle back against the counter and say, “So. When’s the tour leaving?”

Jim’s eyebrows lift, “The tour?”

You nod, “House tour. Mark hasn’t shown me around yet. The most I’ve seen is your downstairs bathroom.”

He scoffs. Pushes off from the counter, the wine in his glass splashing, “He’s a terrible host. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Your heels click along the tile floor as you squeeze between bodies, heading for the hallway where Jim pauses. “Bathroom,” he says, nodding to the door right by the stairs, “But you already knew that.” He steps back against the wall at the first step, holding a hand out to usher you up first. “Ladies first,” he says, smiling genially.

You snort, but waltz by his body, holding onto the handrail as you climb the stairs carefully, the alcohol mixed with your shoe choice making it a dangerous feat. Jim’s close behind, footsteps slowly echoing your own, and you can’t help but think of the tight, short skirt of your dress, the way it hugs your thighs, the placement of his gaze as he wanders up behind you.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around at the assortment of doors, waiting for Jim to tell you which room serves as the first stop. You can sense him right behind you, slightly to your side, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him looking down at you, swallowing slowly. “Mark’s room,” he says, nodding to the right and waiting until you look up at him before he takes a step over and opens the door. He lets you peek inside, look around until you nod and step back, before he urges you forward, towards another door. 

“Upstairs bathroom,” he remarks, and you give the room a similar examination, noticing the streak-free mirror. 

“Looks… clean,” you say, as if there’s anything better to say about a typical bathroom. He gives a muttered thanks in return, then points to the last door. 

“And that’s my room.” 

“May I?”, you grin, then step fully inside, looking around at his bed, his dresser, and finally, his desk. You sit down in the office chair and give it a test spin, before your attention is caught by the art on the wall. “What’s this?”, you ask, while he steps in as well, hesitating for a second as he looks at the door, opting to leave it open before he comes over and sits down on his bed. 

Jim’s head wobbles as he searches for an answer. “It’s – well, it’s – you know. It’s…a print that I…liked.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue,” he responds, quick as a bullet. “I saw it at a yard sale – thought it went with the colors of my bedsheets. That’s how interior design works, right?”

You smile, “Sure. You’re no Stacie, but – sure.”

Jim nods. Your eye is drawn to the dip in the bed where he sits, the weight of his wide frame on the mattress. His open thighs, his elbows resting on his knees, wine swirling as he slowly rocks the glass. He slowly lifts it to his lips, taking a sip without breaking your stare.

You cross your legs by instinct. Your skirt rides a little higher. Jim glances down, and then straight back up. You can feel your blood thrumming through every limb, every part of your body sensitized and alight. It doesn’t help any when he stands from the bed and wanders over, towering over you as he looks at something on the desk.

He reaches over your shoulder, and you can smell his cologne on his sweater, sharp and fresh, a hint of something sweeter. He pulls a photo frame from the shelf behind you and turns it around.

“Graduation,” he says, and your eyes are drawn down to the cheesy grins of him and your brother, donned in black mortarboards and sweeping gowns.

You nod, pretending you’re paying attention. But he’s so close that his jeans rub against your bare legs, so close that you’re staring up just to meet his eye. Your palms begin to perspire, his voice turning into a blur as he points to a couple other frames, photos of people you didn’t recognize in places you couldn’t quite place. The rest of your wine is downed in a single sip, the glass carefully placed behind you, on the surface of his desk. 

Jim seems to have finished recounting memories to you, but he doesn’t move. Stays stood over you, his own drink forgotten on the floor by his bed. A silence falls between you – but not the thick, awkward kind of silence you’re used to around guys. It’s lighter, it’s breathable. It swirls around your limbs like the fluttering feeling in your belly, wraps tightly around them and pushes you to your feet, the back of Jim’s chair rocking against his desk.

You’re eye-to-eye, your chest pushing gently against his. He glances down to your lips, wet with wine and the dabbing of your tongue, and then back up. He leans in, curving around your shoulders to set the photo frame still in his hand back on the desk. When he straightens up again, your hands find his chest.

You stare at one another, seemingly a thousand words exchanged between your soft, drunken gaze and his – and yet, none of them pass your lips. There’s a weight on your waist – Jim’s hands either side of your body, squeezing the tight fabric of your dress. You tilt your head, moving closer, lips parting. And he leans in.

He kisses you, slow at first. Your hands lift to cup his jaw, steady yourself on the weight of him. All of your past selves begin to bubble to the surface, each one lighting your skin, pulling on every nerve. Jim feels warm, his lips wet and sweet from the alcohol. Your nails sift through his hair, tugging gently as he pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth. He groans lightly, seemingly as hungry for you as you are for him, holding himself back, handling you with a care and gentleness you hope he might set aside. You’ve wanted him for so long and you’ll let him do anything, you want all of him, you want him to ravage you and fuck you until you stumble down the staircase and until you can never look your brother in the eyes. 

There’s a smashing sound from downstairs and a squeal, followed by a chorus of disappointment from the other guests. It splits the two of you apart, bumping teeth as your lips disconnect. You’re both panting, hot breath occupying the space between you. You can feel the hardness of his bulge pushing against you, and your arousal building, spreading to the tips of your breasts as your nipples harden. He’s huge, you can already tell, and you swallow around a lump in your throat, trying not to think of how long it’s been since you felt a man inside of you. 

Jim smiles, still holding you close to his body. Your hands wrap around his wrists, and you lean into him again to whisper, “I think we should close the door.”

He nods, and steps back to let you by. You close the door slowly, letting it thud into place as quiet as you can, despite the obvious chaos happening downstairs. When you step back towards him, his eyes are on yours, hands reaching out to pull you closer, one around your waist and one around the nape of your neck, letting you melt into his hold while he locks his lips with yours. You hope he can’t feel the rapid beating of your heart or the dampness of your skin, letting your hands fall to the edge of his pants and starting to fumble with the button. 

You start to unzip his jeans while he walks you back towards his bed, licking into your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip. You slip a hand down over his clothed cock, carefully palming it and feeling the girth and contours against your skin. He lets out a slight grunt at your touch, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass cheek through your dress, his large hand grabbing your flesh and kneading it with the aggression you’ve been hoping for, just a hint of it coming through in the firmness of his grasp. 

He reaches the bed as you draw your hand out of his pants and dip your fingers behind his waistband, feeling the goosebumps spreading across his skin, grabbing hold of the stretchy fabric and lifting it up, over his erection, pulling it down alongside his pants to see his cock hanging free, flushed and wet at the tip. You bite his lip before you pull back to look, and can’t help a whimper escaping your throat as you brush your fingertips along his length. It feels endless, long veins bulging out that you trace with your nails. He's so thick, wide at the root, all the way to the tip. He can't possibly fit inside but you clench at the thought of him trying. Another pearly bead of precome spills out from his slit at your touch, and with his hands still grasping your neck and the meat of your ass, you gently rub the pad of your thumb over this head, feeling the slick slide of his spend beneath your finger, then wrap your hand around him, fingertips not even close to meeting, and stroke him slowly.

Your breaths are shallow, rapid, and when you feel your mouth start to water at the sight of his cock sliding through your hand, Jim pulls you back in to kiss you, grunting and groaning while your hand slides rhythmically up and down, making him throb with arousal. He moves his hips, fucking into your grasp with hushed moans that send your head spinning, your cunt pulsing.

Jim begins to peel the dress from your shoulders, slipping the fabric down until your breasts are exposed, the chilly edge of the air hardening your nipple. He pauses, watches the rhythmic movements of your soft, supple tits as your hand pumps up and down, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. His fingers dig deep beneath the ruffled fabric, tugging it lower and lower until he’s lifting your hips, disturbing the lace of your panties as he discards the dress to the floor.

You pause as he strips the sweater from his shoulders, tossing it to some corner of the room before he’s back on you, the slick tip of his dick leaving sticky trails on your lower stomach.

“You’re so, so good at that,” he murmurs against your lips, sentence broken in two by another hot, wet kiss. Your eyes roll at the taste of him, the strength of his tongue against yours, the hunger with which he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, letting it go only to fill your mouth with himself again. You push at the edge of his jeans and boxers, bunching them up in your hands and tugging at them until he takes over, bringing you with him while he takes them off, leaving him bare and you in only your little scrap of fabric you call your panties. 

He pulls you in as he sits down on the bed, placing you on his lap, letting you wind your hips, dragging the silky lace of your thong up along his hard length while you lick across his tongue, while you swallow his saliva and feel the ridges of his cock bumping against your clit. At the sound of your whimpers, he picks you up in his arms, lays you down on his bed, and settles between your legs, leaving wet kisses up and down your neck, trailing down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and licking it slowly. Your back arches, the slick of your arousal beginning to seep out into the panties he teases with his fingers, hooking them under the thin straps and slowly pulling at them as his lips trail down between your tits, slowly over your stomach, reaching the very top of your mound before he drags the straps over your thighs to reveal you for him. 

You open your legs and Jim presses into the underside of your thighs, pushing them wider. His eyes focus on the sight of you, spread open in front of him, his tongue lifting to run along his lips. You sit up on your elbows, glossy eyes watching as he leans in, a trail of kisses dotted along the seam of your thigh, until his lips are hovering over your throbbing cunt.

“Jim,” you whisper, sifting your fingers through his hair, moving it from his face.

He looks up and you share a glance, a message sent wordlessly from your eyes to his. A smirk pulls across his lips, reading your mind instantly. He lowers his jaw and his tongue drags a long, soaking stripe up your slit.

Your grip tightens in his hair, head thrown back to the blue sheets. Your throat catches a lewd moan before it has a chance to cut through the air, exposing you both to the guests downstairs. Sorry, you whisper, but he shakes his head. “You don't have to be quiet,” he reassures, leaving his gaze on you as he leans back and gives your clit a few wet licks, kicking up your sensitivity and making you clench. He must be able to tell, because just as you tilt your head back into the pillow while he kisses and licks at the part of you most sensitive and needy for his attention, he pushes two fingers into your pussy, stretching you gently as he curls them. He presses into a spot so tender you can't catch the moans spilling out between your lips, begging for more when you're already so close, having fantasized about this for years – his tongue on your clit and his fingers inside of you, softening you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, so much thicker and longer than you could imagine, big and hard and bound to let you feel him tomorrow.

He begins to suckle, swirling his tongue until you grip his hair and moan that you're close, so close, and he releases you from his mouth, still sliding his fingers slowly in and out, moving to place kisses to the inside of your thigh. You let out a huff, and hear a faint chuckle from between your legs, licking and kissing at your skin, right beside your outer folds, close to where you need him. 

Another wave of arousal crashes through you when he makes contact with your clit again, a wet drag of his tongue making you whimper and pull at his hair harder, trying to keep him right where he is until he lets you come. Jim pulls around your clit, lips sucking and tongue flicking as his fingers pump in and out, winding your orgasm like the tide withdrawing, only to let it crash forward in a flood of pleasure.

Your back arches, breath freezes to nothing in your throat until your climax passes, washing over you in heavy, shuddering ripples. You pant, your chest heaving as you look down at the smile on his face, the evidence of your satisfaction glistening on his lips.

Jim pushes himself up from the mattress, knees planting firm between your open legs, fisting his cock over you. You blink the room back into focus slowly, feeling the bed dip by your ear. He settles on top of you, looking down to guide his cock to your needy and spent sex. His tip presses against your hole, sensitive and soaking, and he glances back up. 

“Jim?”, you whisper, chest heaving when you feel the subtle intrusion at your opening.

“Yeah?”

“I want you inside me, I want you to fuck me.” 

Mhmm, he teases the tip around your entrance, lets the thick head of him slide up to your clit before he glides back down, gently pushing in, a tiny little bit of pressure, not enough to make you wince but groan instead, hating and loving how he teases you. Another push, his tip lodged inside, stretching you open further than you thought possible, while your pussy drools down his shaft, sucking him in and covering him in your wetness. He grunts quietly, not immune to the wet, warm clutch he’s sinking into, inch by inch, while you wrap your hands around his jaw, looking into his bright green eyes, lids hooded, breaking the eye contact to glance down at where he enters you, letting out a breathy moan when you suck him all the way in and he reaches your cervix. He hisses when he retracts, gliding out so slowly, covered in your shiny slick. 

You arch your back when he reaches the end of you again, leaning down onto his elbows so his lips can press into your neck, kissing you like he has all the time in the world, little licks to your skin while he glides out and presses back into you, letting you adjust to his size, making space for himself and soothing you as you’re overwhelmed by him. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, tilting your hips slightly upward to let him reach deeper, moaning his name and incoherent curses, grabbing the back of his neck and his broad shoulders, feeling your clit rub against his pelvis, bringing you closer so slowly you barely notice it happening. 

You lower your arms, slipping your hands under his and lacing your fingers. Your knees bend, resting against his ribcage. With each brush of his hair against your clit, he moves faster, thrusting harder, pushing deeper. Tiny yelps leave your mouth the more he fucks you, the more the bed rocks, the headboard knocking against the wall. Your head turns, moaning delicately into his ear as he sucks on your skin.

“I know,” he whispers against your pulse, “You feel so good, sweetheart. So tight around me.”

“Jim,” you’re whining, gasping for air each time he pushes all the way in. You let go of your grip on him and drape your arms over his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair, slowly dampening with sweat. Each glide of his cock inside you ends with a sweet bite of pain, his tip hammering roughly into the edge of your cunt.

His teeth graze the sensitive skin below your jaw, leaving behind marks you’re silently hoping will still be visible in the morning. His hands travel downward, taking hold of your waist and lifting you up to his body like you weigh nothing at all.

“Here,” he says, slipping out of you, thick white thread dribbling between your pussy and his cock. He motions for you to sit up, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, put your feet on my calves.” You oblige, planting each foot behind his thighs as he kneels. “Now lay down, just relax,” he coos, wrapping both hands around your waist to pull you up into a bridge, letting you dip your shoulder blades onto the sheets. He lifts one hand away from your side and guides his cock back into you, giving a few slow strokes with his palm, pushing gently on your stomach. 

Then his hands grip your hips tightly, he pulls you back onto him and gives you a moment to stabilize before he fucks into you even deeper than before. Your tits slide up and down your chest with every single one of this deep thrusts, and you watch his eyes as they stay glued to your body, his mouth hanging open, panting, grunting, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to hold back while you squirm and writhe, moaning and whimpering, not giving a fuck who might hear it, trying to keep his name out of your mouth in case someone needs to use the bathroom next door. 

He pounds into you, hitting the softest, most tender spot inside of your body, your head rolls back on his pillow, tiptoeing the line between pain and pleasure, feeling him in your stomach. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, fuck, fuck,” the words are forced out of you just as a warm stream of liquid squirts out of you, drenching his groin and making him groan. Your orgasm is so intense you nearly howl, feeling more and more of your arousal dripping down his shaft and spurting onto his pelvis, soaking the sheets beneath you, getting wet and sticky with your come and his sweat, watching his hair stick to his forehead while he continues to fuck you, needing every last drop of your climax. 

You’re fucking spent, but he won’t relent quite yet, flipping you over and onto all fours, yanking you back by your hips. He enters you from behind and you groan in satisfaction, needing him right there, just like that, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand twists in your hair, wrapping it around his palm and tugging at it while he grunts, rough and loud in your ear, nearly drowned out by the lewd smacking of your ass against his hips. 

Your hand dips between your legs, fingers rubbing messy circles around your swollen clit, thinking how many times you’ve dreamt of this exact scenario with your fingers buried inside, bringing yourself to the brink of orgasm by the mere thought of Jim. And now, feeling him, the tug on your hair, the ache between your legs, the hoarse cries jumping from your throat.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Jim grunts, wet slaps cutting between his words, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feel good?”

“Yes, Jim,” you whine, your hand jerking with each meeting of his hips on your ass. Come dribbles down the seam of your thigh as you feel your second high begin to wind, white heat flooding downwards. “So – fucking – good. Ah, I want you to come inside me.”

“You sure?”, he pants, holding on by a thread. 

“Yeah, I – I’m on the pill.” 

Jim pulls you upright by the hair, flush against his stomach, and places his hand over yours to rub your clit together. You lean your head back against his shoulder, body freezing as you come for him again. He groans when you pinch around him, movements becoming sloppy.

“Oh – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moans, lips pushing hard into your neck as he twitches and then stills, and you feel the warm spurts of his come deep inside. The two of you groan, strangled and drawn out, collapsing on the bed with his arms around you and his cock softening inside. You listen to the sounds of the party downstairs, the two of you trying to catch your breaths, and he kisses along the back of your shoulder, brushing his thumb back and forth where it rests over your waist. 

“What are we gonna tell Mark?”, he asks.

You pause for a beat, then turn your head to him, “We’re telling Mark?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve wanted it, I’ve wanted it. I don’t want this to be a one time thing, I want it to be more than that, so at some point–”.

“More than what?”, you respond, your heartbeat returning to its heightened state earlier in the night. 

“More than just sex.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m really into you,” he whispers, “I didn’t know if you felt the same way about me but it seems like you do, so–”. 

You shift around to face him, push his sweat damp locks away from his face and look into his eyes. Shy heat floods your face as you smile at him and nod carefully, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You wanna go back downstairs?” he asks, fingertips ghosting down your spine before he reaches your thigh and hooks your knee over his leg, “We have Islands in the Stream on the karaoke machine, I know you like that song.” 

“Sure… In a bit.”

[wh0rrorb4by]

big brother - kuroo

tw: stepcest but take it however u want lol, naive reader, virginity loss, dubcon(?), umm i need big bro kuroo in my life

18+

ugh. thinking about kuroo as your older (step) bro and how annoying he’d be. constantly making fun of your height, eating the last of everything in the house (even when you wrote your name on it!), hogging the bathroom in the morning or waltzing in while you’re either in the shower or only half-dressed. he literally has no boundaries with you!

he reads your diary and holds it over your head when you demand he give it back, making you jump and paw at him for it. and if you don’t give him a kiss on the cheek he’ll read it. it’s so embarrassing! he doesn’t need to know about your fantasies, or how it makes you giddy when his friend bokuto playfully puts his arm around you and calls you affectionate nicknames — especially baby sis. God, kuroo never let you live that one down. you thought your face was going to catch on fire when he pinched your cheeks and asked if you got excited when he called you that, too. it was humiliating, and you swore he placed a ban on bokuto coming within 20 feet of you after that.

he’s such a clingy big brother, too. always hugging and grabbing at you, making you sit on his lap so he can squeeze you, holding you down and tickling you until you’re squirming and squealing — and he won’t stop that unless you give him a kiss on the lips. it’s so annoying. and he’s always coming into your room in the middle of the night to “check on you,” but really it’s just so he can crash in your bed and keep you close to him all night. he caught you by surprise the first time he did it, walking in to see you whining and humping your pillow like you were in heat. you’d never been so embarrassed in your entire life. you started crying, thinking he was going to tease you like he always does, but he only let out a breathy chuckle and told you it was okay, that it was normal. he even told you that it was hot, that guys love little virgins who get themselves off so cutely, and asked why you even bothered with a pillow when he was just across the hall.

that’s when you started to realize that even though he’s annoying, he really is a nice big brother. you couldn’t imagine any other brother letting his little sister tag along with him to everything, or letting you cry in his arms when you were all worked up and just couldn’t cum on your own. it broke his heart when you told him you think you’re just defective, that you’ll never be able to please a guy if you can’t even please yourself. you guessed he just felt bad for you when you cried, that he really had a soft spot for his little sister, because he offered to teach you how to touch yourself. you were grateful to have such a smart big brother, too, because after just looking at your hands he found that the problem was that your fingers are just too small! you need big, long fingers to really make you feel good. better yet, you need a long, thick cock to really give you a good orgasm — and who better to guide you through your first time than your big brother, who’d taken care of you your whole life? you were nervous to accept at first, but he eased your little mind by telling you that only bad brothers leave their baby sisters all needy and empty and insecure about still being a virgin, and besides, he’d take better care of you than anyone else could. and he was so right — you were shaking and whining and cumming all over your sheets by the time he bottomed out inside you and taught you the proper way to rub your little clit. kissing with tongue really helped you get more into it, too.

by the time he fucked you open enough to really start thrusting, you were all dizzy and dumb and wondering why you didn’t come to him earlier. and when he was whispering praise in your ear and sucking marks into your neck and filling you up with his warm cum, all you could think about was how grateful you were to have such a good big brother.

[alotofpockets]

Roommates | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Gorry!Reader & Katrina Gorry x Sister!Reader

Where you start dating your sister's bestfriend after she becomes your roommate.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.8k

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"You're still going to pick up Kyra from the airport and drive her to her introduction at the Arsenal training grounds, right?" Your sister has asked you this question at least ten times now. Her Matilda's teammates, and one of her closest friends Kyra Cooney-Cross was making the move from Australia to the UK, just like you had done two years ago, and your sister had asked you to look out for her there. 

"Yes Mini, don't worry. I will pick up Kyra and drive her to London Colney. You can go to sleep and stop worrying, I promise I've got her." 

Katrina seemed to finally relax a bit, "Okay, text me when she gets there? I told her to do that too, but she'll probably be too tired from the flight to remember.” Your sister loved Kyra like family, and it was sweet to see how similarly she cared for Kyra as she does for you. 

“I will text you when I see her at the airport, now please go to sleep.” You laughed at the slightly annoyed sigh that escaped her mouth. “Thank you again, and goodnight.” You hung up the phone after wishing Katrina a good night as well.

You finish your workday, and run some errands, before you head home. You made a funny poster to welcome Kyra to London before you head to bed for an early wake up call to head to the airport.

When you saw Kyra walk down the gate hall, she looked exhausted from the long flight, a feeling you knew all too well yourself. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie, combined with a messy bun. When she laid eyes on your poster her face lit up. Welcome to London, my favourite Tillie!

"Oh we're so showing Mini your sign." She greets you with a hug. “Yeah, let's send her a picture. I promised I'd text her when you landed.” The two of you pose together with the sign, while someone next to you takes your picture. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask while you take half of her bags. “I ate on the plane, but am in desperate need of a coffee.” In the coffee shop you catch up for a bit over coffee, and breakfast for you, before Kyra gets a call. She walks out of the shop to take the call, while you scroll on your phone.

“What’s wrong?” The panicked look on her face as she walked back in immediately grabbing your attention. “That was the landlord of my apartment, he just let me know that he accidentally double signed. In other words, I don’t have a place to stay anymore.” Without a second thought you had a solution for her problem. “I’ve got a spare room that I never use. It’s yours if you want it.”

The following week you helped Kyra get settled and went with her for her introduction meeting at Arsenal. Initially you would just drop her off and pick her up later in the day, but she had insisted you’d join her. Together you got the Arsenal tour, and you sat to the side for all her video and picture moments. All in all, it ended up being a fun day.

The two of you had gotten close quickly over the days that passed, sure you had known each other already, but now living together brought you on a whole new level of friendship.

Tomorrow would be Kyra's first training session at Arsenal, as well as meeting the team for the first time. Besides her Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin, she didn't know anyone more than a familiar face. You had known she was nervous, but you didn't realise just how much until she knocked on your bedroom door.

“Hey Ky, what's up?” The usual smile the girl was wearing was replaced by a frown. “Were you homesick when you first moved here?” You had been so adamant that she was just nervous, that you hadn't taken the move to another continent into consideration. “Yeah, I did. Come here.” Patting the spot on your bed besides you, you offered her a place to sit. 

You talked for a while before you both fell asleep. The next day you drove Kyra to her first practice with Arsenal. You were just going to drop her off, but when you saw Caitlin get out of her car, you had to go say hi. You knew all of the Tillies from the many times you had met them in the family and friends hall after matches. 

“Y/n, hi, what are you doing here?” She greeted you with a quick hug. You point back to your car where Kyra appeared from behind the trunk. “Ky has been staying with me.” 

On queue Kyra appears beside you, and drops her bags to hug Caitlin tight. While the two of them embrace, another player walks up to greet you. You knew it was Katie, but as far as you remembered you had never properly met. “Hi, I'm Katie, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand. “Y/n, nice to meet you too.”

Katie inspects you, trying to figure out where she knew you from, until it finally clicked. “Oh you're Gorry’s little sister, aren’t you?” Kyra stepped out of her hug with Caitlin to defend you. “She's her own person you know.” It was really sweet, but you really didn't mind. “It's fine Ky, I am.” You rolled your eyes at her defensiveness, but behind that facade you secretly loved how she stuck up for you. 

From then on Caitin and Katie picked up Kyra for practice, since you basically lived on the route to the training centre.

Kyra joined you in your room on more days than not over the next few weeks, and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy the moments you spent together. You were quickly falling for her, and every part of you hoped that she felt the same way. 

Then one morning you woke up with Kyra cuddled into your side, and her leg draped over yours. You lift your hand to gently play with her hair, she hums with enjoyment and cuddles further into your side. “Good morning to you too.” You were like a deer in headlights, caught by the fact that she had, unbeknownst to you already been awake. “Don’t stop.”

You release the breath you were holding and continue. You must have laid there for another hour before you got out of bed. “Can I maybe take you out for breakfast?” The way her eyes lit up at your question was enough for you to realise that she did indeed feel the same way. “I would love that.”

The two of you had been together ever since, just keeping it to yourselves to enjoy your time together away from prying eyes. Which is why you were stressed since your sister had called that she was coming to visit with her family, because she was meeting with the West Ham United team. You had offered your home as a place for them to stay while she had her meeting, and while her and Clara would be looking at homes for their family. 

“Relax babe, we never changed my room back to a guest room, so they won’t notice a thing if we act like just friends for a couple days.” Kyra tried reassuring you. You had talked about telling her, but ultimately you decided that you weren’t ready to tell her yet, and Kyra was fine with that. 

Kyra offered Mini and Clara her room, while she took the couch, and your niece Harper was overjoyed to be having a sleepover in your room for a couple of days. It was nice having your family around, and you were excited to have them closer after the move as well. 

Mini and Clara were out house hunting while you and Kyra spent some time with Harper. Harper insisted on some painting, and you could not stop laughing when the girl had started painting Kyra instead of her paper. While Harper was dancing and singing her little heart out to Frozen, you cleaned Kyra’s face. When you were done you placed a quick kiss on her lips. “All done.”

Meanwhile a few blocks over Mini’s mind was on something besides house hunting. “I think they’re together.” She stated to Clare, who was busy inspecting the kitchen of the place they were currently in. “Who?” 

“Y/n and Kyra.” This got Clara’s attention. “What makes you think that?” Mini went on and on about how Kyra’s room looked like it hadn’t been touched in weeks, that you looked so comfortable together, the glances she had noticed between the two of you, and just the general vibe when the two of you were in a shared space. “Well, if they are, what would you think of that?” Mini thought for a moment before ultimately deciding that she thought the two of you would be cute together and good for each other. 

Mini had not expected to get answers to her question on if the two of you were together or not, but when she put Harper to bed, her little girl snitched on you right away. “Did you have fun today?” The girl nodded her head enthusiastically before telling her mom all about the things that you had done today and finished her story with, “Oh and Auntie and Kywa was kissing.” Mini smiled to herself. “Oh did they now, sweetheart? I am glad you had a good day. Sweet dreams.” 

The next morning you head out to breakfast all together, before your sister and her family fly back for a couple more months. “This place is great, y/n. Where did you find it?” You’re glad that they are enjoying the food just as much as you do. “I took Kyra here when she was all settled in.” You were soaking in all the time with your little niece as much as you could, so you were helping her colour in her drawing while you were speaking to the adults at the table.

“Oh, did you go here for your first date?” Since you were so focussed on the colouring you didn’t think before speaking. “Yeah- oh.” Your head shot up at your older sister, though you relax when you see the proud smirk on her face. “You knew?”

Mini points to Harper, “We’ve got ourselves a little snitch on our hands, she saw you two kiss yesterday. I did also have a feeling already.” You felt relieved now that your sister knew, because she was the person you were most scared of telling, with Kyra being one of her best friends and all.

You drove Mini, Clara, and Harper to the airport with Kyra, where you said your temporary goodbye’s. Knowing that they would be back in two months to move to London. You couldn’t wait to have your family close again. 

-----

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Could you write an azrielxyoungestarcheronreader where they are mated and happy and everyone adores reader,and like azriel is a total simp for her and spoils her with clothes and books etc.like just fluff with azriel and his shadows being affectionate and over protective and poiling reader.?is it ok?

Little things

He loved it. The act of looking for little things you might enjoy. Thinking that would make you smile had been a newfound hobby of Azriel’s. He never really understood the act of gift-giving until he met you. But from the day he had brought you that multicolored seashell he randomly picked up from the beach he and Cassian had stopped to rest in, it all changed.

“Close your eyes”, Azriel couldn’t help but smile as he walked into the living room of his apartment where you had been reading while he finished his report. “Oh no…”, you sighed, resting your book to the side. “Come on, you’re acting as if I will harm you”, Azriel chuckled, keeping his hands behind his back. “I mean you did just spend two weeks with Cassian”, you pointed out, “How do I know that his antics didn’t rub off on you?” Azriel snorted, shaking his head. You had a point there but he had never taken ideas from Cassian. Well, not all of them at least.

“See, you aren’t saying no”, you pointed a finger at him. “You are panicking for no reason, my love”, Azriel tilted his head to the side but you only narrowed your eyes at him. He kept your gaze for a while before, giving in, “Okay, I take it back because this feels like I will be sleeping on the sofa for the next few days”. Now it’s you who throws your head back laughing. Making a smile break out on Azriel’s face as well.

“As if I would ever be so cruel”, you mused. You had been in the start. Order him like a lost puppy that day he refused to leave you alone. After you run out of the house after yet another fight with your sisters. But he stayed. He always chose you. “Come on hold your hands like that and close your eyes”, he motioned for you, and this time you followed his lead. “It’s heavy so don’t threaten”, he warned you. “Tell me that you didn’t bring me someone’s decapitated head”, you shrieked and Azriel let out a laugh so honestly and deep that it rattled the depths of your soul, “No, my love, that’s more up Amren’s street”.

And then you felt it. A pretty hefty object weighing your hands. You frowned. Moving one of the hands up to run over the top. Delicate engraved leather meets your fingers. “What is this?”, you muttered, keeping your eyes closed. “What do you think it is?”, Azriel asked and you could just hear the smugness in his tone. You let your fingers move around it. Till your hands brushed over the delicate pages. Your eyes snapped open in an instant. “No, you didn’t”, you breathed out. Big eyes looking up at your boyfriend. “I think, I did”, Azriel mused, brushing some of the hair away from your face. “You did not”, you gasped, flipping over the hardcover, “Where did you even find this?”

“Man never reveals his secrets”, Azriel smirked, eyes not leaving your glowing face. “You’re… this…”, you leaped into his arms, wrapped yourself around his neck as you covered his face in kisses. “Do I get boyfriend points?”, he chuckled, steadying you both. “A whole sea of points”, you breathed out, cupping his face. “You remembered”, you muttered feeling yourself getting emotional. “There’s not a single thing I could forget about you, my gorgeous girl”, Azriel stated firmly, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

[echobx]

Barry leaves, asking Rafe to watch his sister, who overhears and objects. Despite her attempts to seduce Rafe, He declines. That night after Barry goes to sleep he confesses his love to her and they have passionate slow sex

Rafe Cameron × Barry's little sister!reader

warnings: p in v (protected), fingering, light oral (fem receiving)

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I hope what I did here is not dissapointing you bestie 💕and if I'ma 100% honest with you, my brain never comes up with anything for Rafe so this is a blessing because I need to write him more (accidentally wanted to write "need to ride him" there lol)

You're standing in the kitchen of your trailer, your big brother and his friend Rafe are sitting on the couch just a few feet away from you. You never intend to eavesdrop on them, especially because you really don't want to know about all the illegal shit your brother gets up to. You've learned to keep out of Barry's business and only ever do something when he specifically asks you to. Like the one time he needed you to smuggle something over the border, so you packed your suitcase, and your innocent best friend, and had a girl's trip. No one would suspect a cute and innocent looking girl like you to be the sister of one of the biggest fish in the OBX. 

“I need you to stay here, make sure no one comes around and tries anything while I go pick up the new shit,” Barry says in a low voice, not wanting you to listen of course. 

“Isn't she old enough, though?” Rafe asks and you smile into yourself a little. You like that he trusts you more than your brother does, but then again it's the simple brotherly instinct to want to have you taken care of. And who better to do that then his best friend. Of course. 

“Just keep an eye on her,” Barry sighs. 

“I don't need a babysitter,” you speak up and turn around to look at them both. 

“Who said anything about babysitting?” Rafe cocks his eyebrow up, trying his best to seem innocent. 

“Exactly,” Barry hesitates. “Rafe will just wait for me here until I get back. No babysitting. Just waiting and you're here too, sis.” 

“Ugh, you guys are the worst,” you groan and walk back into your room. 

You decide to go through your closet, putting on a pair of dungarees over a simple red top first and walking back into the living area. Barry had left already, and you decided to play a little game with Rafe, unbeknownst to him. 

“What do you think?” you ask and twirl around, and he lifts his head to look at you. 

“Cute,” he notes and dips his head again, looking back to his phone. 

You go and try on something else. A mini skirt and loop top, showing off your belly button piercing. 

“How about this?” you ask him again and this time his eyes linger for a little longer, but he just shrugs. 

“Looks good to me.” 

You groan and stomp back into your room. Picking out a shirt that is basically see-through and a pair of hot pants that really should probably not count as pants, but panties. 

You step back out and walk straight over to him, placing yourself in front of him and twirling your hair. 

Rafe's eyes get stuck on your tits before he looks up at you and gulps. “That's something,” he rasps and lifts his hips in his seat, but he doesn't go further. 

Not only are you frustrated because none of your attempts have shown any real effect, but also because all you want is for him to just fuck you. It's not really that easy to find a guy when you have a brother who threatens anyone you even think about bringing home. But Rafe's at your place basically every single day. Barry finds him trustworthy enough to stay with you while he's out. And on top of that, you know of the rumors. You know of Rafe's reputation. He takes what he wants, and he doesn't leave until he's satisfied. That's what you wanted for yourself. Especially for your first time. 

Which is why it also doesn't make sense to you that he hasn't made a move on you yet, especially considering how you always flirt with him as soon as Barry leaves the room. 

You decide to let it go, instead only putting on an oversized shirt, no bra and a pair of shorts. Your usual look, basically. 

When you come back out, Rafe's already looking at you, he's smiling. 

“I like that one too,” he says, and you roll your eyes. 

“Whatever.” 

“Since when do you have a piercing?” Rafe asks and watches you sit down on the other end of the couch. 

“Few months ago. Thought if I hide it long enough, my brother can't tell me off about it anymore,” you shrug, bored out of your mind really. And you don't realize that Rafe keeps talking to you about you, and not just about random shit like usually. He asks about your favorite things, and he doesn't even make fun of you for how polar opposite it all is to how people perceive you. 

No one would expect a trailer park chick to be a math nerd, or like classical music the same amount as rap. But Rafe finds it fascinating. He's practically enamored by you, but you're too stuck in your head to even really notice it. 

“This is prolly the best shit I had in months,” Barry grins while walking in, taking a small bag of shit out of his backpack and throwing it towards Rafe. “Think we can at least triple that,” he says, and goes to stash the rest. 

Rafe is dipping his pinky into the powder and rubs it on his gums. “Oh, that's good,” he nods and leans back. 

They spend the rest of the night talking about how much they can take for it and the usual split. And you just sit there, watching and listening and zoning out and thinking about more fun things, like, what if Rafe didn't just see Barry's little sister in you.

The night progresses and you go to your room, telling them you're tired, when you really are just not in the mood to listen to them any longer. 

That's how you found yourself, two hours later, lying in your bed, body turned away from the door but still wide awake when the door opens and closes with a soft creak. 

“Y/n?” Rafe asks and you pretend to be asleep. “Are you awake?” 

You keep your eyes closed in case he walks around your bed to check on it, but he doesn't, instead he just sits down next to you and sighs. 

“I don't know how to keep doing this, to keep pretending like I don't care,” he whispers, and your heart starts beating a little faster. “But I can't do what I want to either. I'm not supposed to- Fuck, y/n, I wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he sighs, and you rip your eyes open. 

“You what?” You flip around and stare at him. 

Rafe looks at you, completely flabbergasted, he really didn't expect you to hear him. But now it's too late, and he can't take it back anymore. “I'm in love with you,” he whispers, and you sit up. “And I don't- I can't keep going like this, not when you do shit like today and all I can think of is bending you over and fucking you until you beg me to stop.” 

“Then do it,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“Fuck me.” You look at him and he shakes his head. 

“Barry would kill me.” 

“I don't care about my brother. I don't want my brother. I want you,” you tell him and lean in to kiss him.��

It's a gentle peck that you place on his soft lips. Rafe takes his hands up to hold onto your neck as he reciprocates the kiss, harshly and with a demanding manner that makes you feel like putty in his hands. 

You try to stay quiet, but the way his tongue presses against yours makes you want to moan louder than you ever anticipated from a simple kiss. But Rafe knows what he wants, and now that he's had a taste, he's not stopping. 

His hands find your waist, running up and taking your shirt off you. Rafe stops kissing you to admire your body, hands groping at the flesh of your tits, and you have to bite your lip to not moan. 

“Take off your shirt,” you whisper, and he follows suit, throwing it somewhere on the floor before starting to kiss down your body. Lips trailing down your neck to the valley of your breasts, then farther down, sucking your piercing between his teeth before kissing your clothed clit. 

“You smell so good, baby,” he moans against your cunt, before slapping against your thigh, and you instinctively lift your hips and let him take off your slip. 

“If that's not the prettiest pussy I've seen in my life,” Rafe hums before licking a stride up your slick folds and closing his lips around your sensitive bud. Shallow moans and quiet gasps leave you as you grasp into his hair, trying to hold onto anything you can get your hands on while he edges you on. 

“More, please, Rafe,” you beg and he looks up with a smirk. 

“Want me to fuck you, baby?” 

“Yes, please, please.” 

Rafe thrusts his fingers into your tight hole and your back arches up. His fingers curl up and prod against your walls, making you squirm under him. 

“God, you're tight, it's almost like-” he stops and looks at you. “Have you never had sex?” 

You feel ashamed at first, but you can't lie, you know he's gonna find out eventually. So you shake your head and hope he doesn't mind. 

“Jesus, baby, you should've said something. I would've come over and fucked you way earlier if that's all you wanted this whole time,” he whispers and kisses you, his hand still working on your pussy until you feel like you're about to explode. 

“Cum for me, baby, I know you want to. Soak my fingers,” he growls into your ear, and you let go. Your moans are swallowed by his lips on yours and his fingers fuck you through your high until you lie there, panting and happier than ever. 

“Need more,” you rasp and pull on his shorts, trying to open the button. 

“Really needy, aren't you,” Rafe chuckles and gets up to take off his shorts and boxers. Your eyes go wide when you see how big he is. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to pick Rafe of all people for your first time, but there’s no going back now. You watch him pump his dick a few times before rolling on a condom and coming back to kneel between your legs. 

“You have to tell me if it hurts. I don't wanna hurt you,” he says, and you nod, biting your lips in anticipation. 

His tip nudges your hole, and you take a deep breath as he starts pushing into you. Forgetting that he wanted to go slow, Rafe bottoms out, and you feel like you're being split in two. 

“Shit, are you okay?” he asks, and you nod, trying to not cry from the stinging feeling. 

“Go slow, please,” you whisper, and he kisses you, distracting you from the pain between your legs. 

He pulls out slowly and pushes back into you, groaning quietly against the skin on your neck. Your hands are clasping his shoulders and your legs are wrapped around his middle, letting him hit even deeper inside you with his shallow thrusts. 

“You feel so good, baby. This pussy is made for me,” Rafe muses, kissing your neck and sucking on the soft skin, leaving marks for days. Your mind is dazed. The pain you had felt just minutes before is replaced with pure pleasure and the way he longingly stares into your eyes. 

You didn't expect him to be so gentle with you, but now that you have it, you want nothing more than to do it over and over again. 

“Fuck, you're so tight,” Rafe grunts, gradually fasting his pace. He pulls out almost completely, leaving you empty and babbling for more until he slams back in, holding onto the headboard of your bed so it doesn't hit against the wall. 

“You're mine. My girl,” Rafe grunts and rams into you another time. 

“Yours,” you moan softly, still trying to keep quiet and not wake your brother next door. But Rafe seems to have forgotten about it. 

His right hand comes down to hold onto your neck, and he starts pounding into you harsher and faster than you thought possible. Maybe he really wants to try to impale you with his cock, and you know you'd let him. It's overwhelming, and you feel the band inside you go tighter with each heavy thrust. 

“Let go, baby, I got you,” Rafe looks down at you and smiles, you can feel it inside of you, the warmth, and then you're lost. It feels like you're falling and when he pushes into you deeper and halts, you're caught again. 

Your poor cunt won't stop clenching even after he had pulled out and disposed of the condom. You're hot and cold at the same time, like a storm had just washed over you and left you speechless. 

“Next time we do this, you can be as loud as you want to, baby,” Rafe whispers and kisses your neck, holding you tightly in his arms before you both drift into a deep slumber. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

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