#Like I’m so into men it makes my head spin daily

[plantain-papi]

The most annoying era of bisexuality was the “Being bi means I’m attracted to all women and 1 man” like there isn’t a spectrum to this sexuality

[riiwrites]

“dancing in the dark.”

summary : when the BSD men catch you dancing.

includes : chuuya, dazai, fyodor

request : “i was thinking what fyodor, dazai and chuuya would react if their s/o is actually a dancer and keeps it a secret from them!” - 💙

a/n: thank you so much for the request, angel!! i really tried to fit the description as you requested in your og ask, i hope it’s fit to your standards :) also tysm to my lovely poe for being my russian translator for the nicknames that fyodor uses in this fic! show him some love, they’re so so great <3 @cherrymoka222

masterlist | main page | daily click

CHUUYA

• Chuuya truly thought he knew everything about you. From your likes to dislikes, your personality traits and little silly habits. He thought he had you figured out.

• That was until, he caught you in the garden.

• Moving elegantly but so swiftly, he was in awe.

• He didn’t dare to disturb you, thinking this moment was just so perfect to ruin.

• And he thought, if you were to hide such a thing from him, how would you react if he knew? So he never confronts you about it.

• That is until, he has a better idea.

“Right, baby..I’m gonna head to bed.” Chuuya announced with a yawn, making you turn your head as you nod softly, smiling at him.

“Kay.”

He begins to walk out the room, as soon as he reaches the doorway however, he takes one last little glance at you and smiles to himself before heading off.

An hour or so later, the normal time you would often “head to bed” came around but in reality, you’re heading to your escape in the garden.

As you head towards the back door, you couldn’t help but have a sneaky feeling that something was different about tonight.

Oh how you were so right.

There stood Chuuya, still in his normal work attire with a big smirk on his face as he watched your little suspicious look turn into one of shock.

“Hey.” He says.

“..Hey..” You repeat, slowly making your way towards him. As you did, you noticed the scenery around you.

The bushes surrounding and sculpting the area were lit beautifully with fairy-lights scattered across them left to right, with a little boombox sat on a nearby table with slow jazz playing softly in the background.

“..So you know..?” You ask.

“Oh I know.” He instantly says, letting out a chuckle as he saw your flushed face out of embarrassment.

“Come now, doll..why the face? You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” He says softly, walking towards you and creating the distance between you both smaller and smaller with each passing second. “I think it’s beautiful.” He whispers as he reaches out to touch you, lifting your chin up with his gloved fingers.

You shyly locate your eyes to find his, a little hesitance in your voice as you whispered “Really?”

He nodded, his smirk now changing to a soft and comforting smile as he whispers back. “Really.” The tone in his voice sounding so sincere and full of genuine honesty made you feel giddy.

He leans in and kisses your lips ever so gently, before pulling away after a few seconds to hold out his hand towards you.

“Can I?” He asks.

You smile, nodding as you put your hand in his, and he slowly walks backwards and guides you throughout the garden, spinning you around and dancing with you in the dark as if time was nonexistent.

DAZAI

• This smug bastard already has a pretty fine idea about your talent.

• He’s already onto your every move.

• Why? Because he sees the way your eyes light up once anything dance related shows up on the screen and you look so engrossed with it.

• He thinks it’s adorable, really. He’s always known you’ve had a liking for dance.

• But, catching you whilst you’re actually dancing just like the stars on TV? Moving so graciously with your legs as you slowly make the garden your own.

• He could watch you for hours, and he did.

You walk on water like it’s fragile to touch, the little ripples appearing just below your toes as you tread ever so lightly but dance with such a powerful impact that could make everyone stop and stare.

Well, it made someone specific stop and stare.

“Wow..” You’re instantly snapped out of your thoughts as you fall straight into the water, snapping your head towards the sound of your disturbance. You shoot him a glare.

“Whaaat? Can’t I watch my beautiful bella dance like nobody’s watching?”

“Well someone’s clearly watching.” You scoff as you stand up, your lower half now drenched in water.

“I’ve been watching you for hours, Y’know~” He chimes, smirking as you step out of the water and shake your legs to remove any excess water.

“How did I not notice your eery gaze carving holes into the back of me..?” You whisper to yourself, but Dazai answers your rhetorical question anyway.

“I’ve actually known about your little talent for months now, you just haven’t spotted me. Until today when I was oh so rudely interrupted..” He sighs heavily.

“Okay, one, Joe Goldberg, cool it.” You retort as you walk towards the back door, to which he was standing in front of. “And two, you interrupted me! I would’ve kept dancing if you kept your mouth shut..”

“Oh?~” He says, his smirk only growing wider. “Is that an invitation, dear?”

You couldn’t help your blush as you look up at him, smiling a little as your annoyed facade fades. “..Maybe..”

He smiles, hopping off the steps leading to the back door and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Aren’t you just the sweetest when you’re not mad at me?” He says, then, he flicks your forehead.

“Ow!- dick..” You murmur as Dazai walks past you, giggling to himself as he reaches the bit of the garden to which you were dancing on.

“Well? Show me the VIP experience, bella.”

You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes as you rush to the pool of water as Dazais eyes follow you, waiting patiently for you to begin.

As you begin to dance and return to your concentrated look. Dazai stares with the biggest smile on his face as he watches you take the night away with your actions. God, how lucky was he?

And he could’ve sworn he fell in love with you all over again, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

FYODOR

• Like Dazai, he knows about your liking towards dancing.

• But, he doesn’t know you actually do it, he just thought it was something you enjoyed to watch.

• You tried your hardest to hide it from him, simply because you didn’t want to bother him with your interests whilst he was busy working and didn’t want to be a distraction.

• He suspected something the moment you started acting suspicious around him, you could never hide anything from him.

• He eventually found out about it one day when he was reading and then suddenly heard piano music being played from outside.

• His interest was piqued almost immediately, as he closed his book and slowly made his way throughout the house and out to the garden.

• He had his suspicions, and as he reached the door and opened it quietly, they were confirmed.

• There you were, dancing ever so beautifully and spinning heavenly. Why would you hide this from him?

• He wanted to find out, and he was going to.

Soon, the music came to an end, putting an end to your routine as you descend from your tiptoes and onto the ground flat. There were a few seconds of silence until the area was filled with sounds of slow clapping.

You could’ve swore you heard your heart stop.

“Myshka..why’d you stop?” He says with a little smirk. You turn around slowly as your met with your lovers strong gaze.

“Oh..uhm..because the song..ended..” You stammer, looking down at your feet as you could practically feel your inner self growing smaller and smaller with each moment of silence.

Fyodor walks towards you, hands clasped together. “What a performance, lapachka..You move so elegantly.” He compliments you, to which you blush and move your hands to your face.

“You weren’t supposed to know..” You muffle out, and he can’t help but chuckle at your cute actions. He gently takes your hands and pulls them from your face, giving you the same smile but this time, it looked comforting.

“And why not?” He asks.

“I just..” You pause, becoming careful with your words. “I didn’t want to bother you with it..”

His gaze becomes softer as he appears a bit confused, and also..saddened? It only lasts a second though as his smirk returns and he strokes your cheek.

“You could never bother me, dear..” He whispers as he kisses your lips. You close your eyes and kiss him back, going up on your tiptoes to get a better angle. He pulls away and continues stroking your cheek, before pulling away and walking past you and heading towards the music player himself.

You raise an eyebrow as you turn towards him. “..What are you doing?” You ask skeptically. He switches on a channel of classical music, looking up at you with the same look on his face as he extends a hand out towards you.

“Come.” He says, and you instantly follow.

He takes your hand and you both begin to way to the music, his feet moving just the same as yours as if he was an expert on what he was doing. You were surprised.

“How are you so experienced with this?” You giggle.

“I’ve adapted to the area of dancing in..every lifetime let’s just say..” He replies, spinning you around slowly once before going back to sway with you. You smile, making Fyodor chuckle just a little.

You both danced for most of the night, and being in eachothers arms made Fyodor think he was one of the luckiest men in the world.

Maybe living in this lifetime wasn’t so bad, as long as it meant being with you.

TAGLIST : @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @heartsfourdazai @nomnomventi @silverbladexyz @inojuuy @boarcide @cherrymoka222 @kissesmellow21 @aliyahgracedrawing @chuuyathehatrack2 @boredwithwrath @rainy-dazie @lone-ray @ishqani @fun-cats @wefureko-blog @hoicacti @seikkoh @famousfoxkingdom @morrie-rose @underscoredaniii @monmush @night-dazai @s1eepybunny @minomikn @pinkdaises @lalalanddddddddd @mayaaluvvvv @probablyzombiedinosaurs @rinismahname @starrs20 @just4notherhumanbeing @little-miss-chaoss @drowningfishy @saeandscaralover @minniepresents

✿ riiwrites 2024 ; please refrain from ever plagiarising or reposting any of my works without crediting.

[yvesssssssss]

HEAR ME OUT!!! Natsuki, shin, and Nagumo with a reader who’s just constantly plotting—and I mean PLOTTING. Like even in the most mundane situation they think about how every action could affect an outcome as if life were just a game of chess to them. Every move they make is planned and coordinated when it comes to daily life. A little hint of silliness perhaps 😼😼

Sakamoto days men with a 4D-chess brain reader

Natsuki seba

Natsuki stares blankly at the grocery cart.

"…You arranged the snacks by expiration date?"

You push up imaginary glasses. "If we consume the shortest lifespan items first, we’ll reduce food waste and maximize freshness. Obviously."

He blinks. "You color-coded them by brand too."

"To subtly influence your mood. Blue brands calm you. Red gets you hyped. I need you calm when we hit checkout—so you don’t accidentally get in a duel with the barcode scanner again."

Natsuki opens his mouth to argue, but stops. He does feel weirdly relaxed. “…What else did you do?”

You lean in with a grin. “I positioned a crying baby two aisles away to mask the sound of me opening a bag of chips early.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m thriving.”

Shin asakura

Shin tries so hard. He really does.

You’re both at a cafe, and he’s halfway through sipping his drink when he hears: “Move your cup three inches left. Now.”

“…Why?”

“The glare from the sunlight reflects off the ice, into the barista’s eyes. In seven seconds, she’ll miss the milk pitcher, spill it, and I’ll use the distraction to sneak an extra muffin onto our order tray.”

“…Why not just ask for a muffin?”

“Too obvious. This is the long game, Shin. The muffin must be earned.”

He grips his temples. “You plotted a muffin heist using optics and physics.”

“And the barista’s mild sleep deprivation. I did my research.”

“…I’m both impressed and mildly terrified.”

Nagumo yoichi

Nagumo catches on quick, but that just makes things worse.

You're laying out your socks in a specific left-right, color-coded pattern when he leans over your shoulder. “What’s this? Planning a heist or just doing laundry?”

You smirk. “Both. Sock arrangement dictates how the laundry load interacts with the spin cycle. I’m using centrifugal force to rotate the inner pocket of my hoodie—where I stored a flash drive—to a less detectable location.”

He pauses. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You glance at him. “Don’t distract me. If I mistime the rinse cycle by three seconds, the entire operation fails.”

Nagumo throws his arm around your shoulder and grins. “You know what this means, right? You and me? We could take over the world. Or at least the laundromat.”

“Oh, I already have. I bribed Mrs. Tanaka in Unit 3 to let me run the machine on Sundays. She's the linchpin.”

Nagumo just laughs. “I love you. But also I’m scared of you.”

“Good. That’s part of the plan.”

Taglist:@shenwi @astronomyloveraster @yokaistirfry @shineinouzen15 @cjafjatkstke @starizzm @imightgoinsane @istillremembermissamericana @ilovewhattatops @elorajelaaa @takenbyacircle @ilylmwwifys @empty-void-of-dreams @reomikas

Hey lovelies! Just a heads up—if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist, now's the time to let me know! I don't want to flood anyone's inbox unnecessarily. 🫶

Drop a comment or send me an ask if you'd like to be added/removed!

Thank you all so much for being here! You all are the best!🫶🫶

[neuvistar]

HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS FATHERS! pt one.

— featuring ┊jing yuan, blade, dan heng, gepard x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊hsr men as fathers !! mostly fluff ! SPOILERS ON BLADE’S (?) PART, not proofread i think, you r married to them here, a little angst on blade’s but it’s nothing much, mentions of pregnancy, blade referred to as “ren”, them being absolute sweethearts </3 overall just fluff! | pt two. (luocha, welt, sampo) pt three. (aventurine, dr ratio, argenti, boothill, sunday gallagher)

— a/n ┊oh my days i’m sooo obsessed w these, i love thinking abt them too like okayyy.. strong jing yuan + gepard best father believer !! I ALREADY MADE A SEPARATE TAG 4 THIS TOO SO I CAN RAMBLE ABT IT W MY PRECIOUS FOLLOWERS, ANONS N MOOTS !! </3 you could tell i had fun writing gepards (i rlly did)

best papa #1. jing yuan (DILF DILF DILF!)

- JING YUAN would be such an amazing father, it’s like it’s natural to him, he’s one of the sweetest n most supportive ones !! when he found out about your pregnancy he would spin you around in his arms, kissing the temple of your forehead whispering “i love you”s under his breath. hes such a dilf too jesus fuck

- JING YUAN would have three kids (jesus christ) two girls n one boy, HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD DAD N I KNOW IT! he’s so patient and gentle with you during your pregnancy, and he was even more patient n gentle w his own kids, he loves them very much. he would be willing to teach his children everything, he would help them with their swordsmanship skills and even help out with other things, he’s such a good papa it hurts, he’s so gentle with your children, he’s an absolute natural! it’s like he was meant to be a dad almost

- JING YUAN who would be protective over his kids but not too protective, he loves seeing them all free, especially when they were just little cute babies. his eldest daughter loved running around his office, tugging at his clothes and asking him to play with her.

“dadddd! play with me noww! brother and sister wants to play too, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes like you said, but it already passed!”

“not now, princess.” his lips melted into a soft grin, giving his daughter a small pat on the head. “how about this, how about you and your siblings accompany daddy while he works, ‘that sound good?”

- JING YUAN who tries his best to make his children happy, i bet he’s the type to sing small little lullabies for them to help them sleep, rocking his little son in his arms as he has his small little fingers around his. he’s great with animals as well, he would take his children to a little adventure one day and have them hold and feed the birds that are always around him, nibbling on their tiny hands as he guides them, helping them try and feed it.

“go on, try and feed him. he doesn’t bite, he’s not scary either right? dad’s here to protect you, remember?

- JING YUAN who would talk to his children when they were still in your womb, telling them stories about his life, his adventures and telling them how beautiful their mommy was. jing yuan would consider this as his daily routine, he loved talking to his little ones even before they were born!

“hey princess. daddy loves you so much, y’know that?”

“daddy is excited to meet you too sweetheart, yes he is. but try not to give your mother a hard time, okay?“

best papa #2. blade

- BLADE who never thought he’d ever become a dad because of the life he lives, so much regret and grief in his heart so therefore he would start off a bit rocky, he was a bit unsure and didn’t quite understand the aspects of being a father and that worried him so much. he was terrified of not fulfilling his duties and responsibilities as a father but you always reassured him that he’s doing the best he can and that’s what truly matters.

“ren honey, she can’t support the weight of her own head, you know?”

“.. she can’t?”

oh boy.. he had a lot to learn.

- BLADE would probably have one kid! HE WOULD HAVE A DAUGHTER IM CONFIRMING THAT RN. your little princess is almost bound to look like him! she’s like a mini version of blade as she has the same hair, same eyes, etc! aaa it’s so cute! he thinks so too, he just doesn’t have the balls to actually admit it. his little princess would think of her papa as the strongest person in the world! it’s adorable honestly, she wants to be just like him, big and strong!

- BLADE who would be extremely overprotective over his daughter, he would have a very soft spot for her too. he would give everything his all to secure her knowledge about the current life he was living right now as a stellaron hunter, he knew he wasn’t the best, but he was willing to change for you and his child. yet, it still worried him. it still worried him that maybe one day his daughter will eventually find out about his past and follow his exact footsteps, everyday he prays nothing like that happens, he wants her to do good, not bad. he doesn’t want her to fall in the same path he went before.

- BLADE who honestly didn’t expect to have a child himself, so when he was caught right handed carrying a small little child in his arms, kafka and silver wolf would doubt him at first, asking him if this was just another child he found in the middle of the streets, shocked to find out he was acc a father n he wasn’t messing w their heads again skull emoji

“that’s.. that’s your kid?!”

“yeah.”

“she looks just like you..”

“are you sure you aren’t messing with us? you actually had sex?!”

“.. could you have worded that a better way?”

- BLADE who would find comfort in his own family, making a promise to himself that he would absolutely devote his love to you and his little princess, he would do everything to protect you and her, even if it means risking his everything for the both of you. but yet.. he still thinks about how he’ll eventually watch you and his little princess die while he lives on, for eternity. he wants to bask in the presence of his beloveds for as long as he could, he would break the curse of his immortality if he could, just so he see his loved ones die, no.. not again. he can’t afford to see the two most important people of his life die, once again. but he knew, his fear would come true eventually.

best papa #3. dan heng

- DAN HENG is a SWEETHEART. tbh hes a a lil confused but he’s trying + he’s learning! he also never expected he would ever have a child of his own, he doubted his own abilities at first but he got the hang of it as it flows through, he’s an outstanding father too! he’s just a lil confused but he’s got the spirit

- DAN HENG would probably have multiple kids, about two! one girl and one boy. when his first child was born, he felt a wave of happiness and relief wash through his body as he was finally taking in one of the biggest responsibilities there is, he promised himself he would do his best for you and his kids, and he really kept his promise! he does try his best and tries his hardest to give them the utmost care and support, he loves his pretty wife and his kids sm and it shows

- DAN HENG would have good hearing! when his young ones were still little babies, he would usually be the first one to aid them whenever they wake up in the middle of the night crying, gently rocking them in his arms until they fall asleep in his arms, their small hands on his shirt. so cute <3

- DAN HENG who would help his kids fall asleep by sitting or laying by their side and watch them sleep, maybe he would hum a tone or two.. he just can’t comprehend the fact that he was the father of these kids, he treasures them sm and you notice it, he’s just so so sweet to you and your kids

“dan heng?” you would call, entering the room of your kids before seeing your husband laying on the edge of the bed, arm over the two young ones as a gentle grin forms on your face as you shut the door, god. you married the right man.

- DAN HENG who just wants the best for his kids, he would come off as too overprotective sometimes and it might look like he was angry but in reality he just wants the best for them and wants to keep them safe.

“i thought i told the both of you not to go there.”

“.. but daddy you didn’t say that! that’s no fair!”

dan heng crouched down to his daughter’s level, eyeing her and his son down. “daddy doesn’t want you both to get into trouble. plus, you could easily get hurt or stepped on from some big monster.”

“dan heng, stop scaring the kids.” you crossed your arms, before a tug on your shirt was made,

“no no mommy, it’s not scary! because we know that daddy is always gonna be there to save us!” dan heng grinned, pulling his two younglings in a tight hug. he really does hope he can fulfill that, he wants to be there for them after all.

best papa #4. gepard landau

- GEPARD is such a girl dad, he would have three little princesses! gepard is surprisingly a good dad, like i said he’s a such a girl dad he would cherish and love his princesses (including you <3) until the end of time, he’s such a good dad it makes my heart melt, he would probably ramble about the fact he has three daughters to serval, HES SOOO SWEET ABT IT TOO. “mhm mhm. i have three princesses in my household!” is what he would say, he loves his daughters smmm HES A GIRL DAD U CANNOT TRLL ME OTHERWISE. speaking of serval, she would be an amazing aunt i know it!

- GEPARD is such a loving and doting father! when his first daughter was born he probably thanked every star in the whole universe for this amazing gift that was brought upon him and you, HE LOVES YOU AND HIS DAUGHTERS SM BRO. he can be a bit overprotective and it might lead him to seem a bit controlling but he doesn’t mean to be or sound controlling in the first place, it’s only because he wants his daughters to be safe, he knows how bad the world can be and he doesn’t want anything to happen to them.

- GEPARD who is willing to style his daughters’ hair, honestly you wondered where he inherited his skills from since he’s such a natural at it! (he got it from serval) sometimes you’ll even see one of your daughters in cute little pigtails held up in cute little pink bows, it’s so adorable to you!

“who did your hair baby? it looks great today.”

“daddy did!” when she said that, gepard would probably be eavesdropping from the kitchen, a huge stupid smile on his face <3

- GEPARD who does his best to protect his wife and his children, sometimes you would tell stories to your kids about how amazing gepard really is, and how he’s the captain of the silvermane guards! i bet if they still had fears over little things like monsters under their beds etc your daughters would always go to gepard so he can “fight” the monsters off, gepard finds it so adorable how go to him whenever they’re scared, because he knows he can protect them from anything <3

- GEPARD probably has a daughter that looks up to him a lot, trying to follow in his footsteps. when his little daughter was little, she would sometimes sneak out from her room and sometimes catch him training, doing weird motions with his hands she didn’t quite get and copy him! she views gepard as “the strongest hero in the whole universe”

“daddy daddy! look look, it’s a drawing of me in your armour! one day i’ll be just like you, brave and strong!”

the blonde’s gaze softened, a low chuckle leaving his chest as he picked her up from the ground planting a quick kiss on her nose. “you’re already brave and strong, princess. you’re just as brave and strong as daddy is”

he’s such a girl dad ugh i love those men

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking At You, Part 8

Summary: You and Ari have a really long date...

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit sexual content, explicit language, fingering, dry humping, teasing, brief sexual harassment, mild violence, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, blood, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“What are you doing?” Ari asks.  He steps behind you, smoothing his hands down your curves.  You cannot let him confuse your brain.  You have things that you need to do.  And currently they do not involve being distracted by this beautiful man. 

“Darling?  What’s all this?” Having him in this bedroom alone with you makes this decision so much harder.  You can’t have his hands, his scent, and his warmth infiltrating your mind.  Hindering your thoughts to the point that it will make you change your mind, and you don’t want that.  

Keeping a hand on your waist, he turns to look at the bed in ‘your room’.  He gestures towards your bed, and at the weekender bag in the center with clothes surrounding it.  “We’re just going out to the city.  Do you need help choosing an outfit?” 

“N-n-n-no,” you stutter, still unable to look him in the eye.  

“Can you tell me what’s going on then?” You shake your head no, keeping your eyes on the dresser in front of you.  Looking at him terrifies you at times.  “Hey, hey.  Let’s — you know, take a step back.  Are we going to the city today for a date?” Eagerly you nod your head, and he breathes a sigh of relief.  “Okay, because for a second I thought you were leaving me.” 

“What?” You spin around and stare up at the most beautiful human you have ever seen in your life.  “No!  No.  No, I wouldn’t.  I-I-I’m a bit embarrassed to say.” 

“I’m not going to judge you, Darling.  I never would,” and he never has.  Of all the people that have been in your life, they’ve always judged.  Always told you what you should do, who you should be.  They wanted to control every aspect of your life.  But with Ari, you get to be you.  And he loves every version you have tried out.  Encourages you daily. 

“I’m preparing for an ‘if’,” you respond with much more conviction than you had anticipated.  Nerves wiggle around in your belly, and you just hope that he agrees with your ‘if’.

“An ‘if’?” Ari’s chuckle sends a wave of heat to your stomach, and through your body.  He turns you on way too easily.  “What does that mean?” 

“What if we didn’t come back?” 

“I’m listening,” his voice growls, and he settles on the bed.  Rubbing his thigh as his crystal eyes peer up at you through his lashes.  Taking a deep breath, you walk over to him, and sit in his lap.  He pulls you in closer, and runs his hand up and down your back.

“I’m not ready to officially leave yet.  I-I-I don’t think,” Ari’s large hand cups your cheek, and then he caresses your jawline. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he’s making it impossible to breathe because all you want to do is feel him all over you.  

“I want to leave.  With you.  But I’m not ready yet.  But maybe this is our beginning.  Like a trial run.  I want you, and,” you take several slow calculated breaths, inching closer to him before laying your head on his shoulder.  Your hand lazily moves up and down his chest, “I want you to have all of me.  We could get a room.  And…” 

“You want your first time to be in some old hotel?” 

“I just want my first time to be with you.  Away from here, so we don’t have to worry about nosy Amish men.  When I — we have sex, not fuck, I don’t want anything to distract us,” lifting up off his shoulder, you gaze into his eyes, “It’s not about where.  It’s only just been about you.” 

“So…you’re saying you want this trip to be a fun full day of just me and you, and then we stay the night somewhere?” Smiling, you nod your head, and quickly kiss his lips.  “I don’t want you to feel pressured.  Especially not by me.  I’m okay with everything going on right now.” 

“I don’t feel pressured!” You yelp.  You don’t.  That is not a lie.  But the way that your body is craving him.  The way that it yearned for him to touch and kiss every part of you, while you also paint him with your tongue.  You want to move your fingers over every inch of his tanned skin.  Learning each of his freckles, and scars.  You want to fully dive in and discover the man that you are falling for.  No, that you are madly, irrevocably, torturously in love with. 

“I don’t feel pressured.  But I want it.  I want you, and I want us, and I want to make sweet love with you.  And I want you to fuck me like your dirty whore.  And I want to wake up with you spitting on your hand, to prepare my body to take you.  And I need you to come inside of me, so I can feel your cum deep in my belly, and…”

“Shh,” Ari uses his hand to cover your mouth.  You’re trying to kill him, and you’re getting very successful.  It is taking everything in him to not get hard.  Your filthy fucking mouth will be the death of him.  He would damn his sister if it wasn’t for the fact that it made you a needy little slut for him.  You had the knowledge in theory, but not the practice.  You were a menace to him.  

The ways that he wants to just claim you, use you, and make you free use are numerous.  He wants to have each and every single part of your body covered in him.  He wants to see you use him.  Ride him.  Take out your years of pent up sexual denial and frustration out on his dick.  He will lay back and just watch you learn the pleasure of each other's body.  He can tell that you are eager to try everything out.  

You are his dream girl that he wasn’t looking for, and didn’t even know he wanted.  “Okay, you can’t talk about things like that while you’re sitting on my lap.” 

“Why?  Did I make you hard?  Can I see?  Can I watch you get hard?” 

“Darling!” He groans, letting his body fall back on the bed.  “You’re killing me.  Believe me, I will let you sweetly lay on the bed and play with my soft cock all you want.  Learn human anatomy using my body.  But if we don’t stop talking, I will want to just fuck you right here, right now, and risk someone catching us before you’re ready.  Please, just — just finish packing a bag with whatever you want.  Let me go pack some things, and…” 

“No condoms,” you’re going to be the death of him!  “Please.  I don’t want anyone else,” you didn’t know anyone else.  His fear is that you will get your taste of freedom, and want to try all the flavors of the world.  Other men, maybe women, whatever your heart desired.  “I just want you, and I want to really feel you.” 

“A condom doesn’t change that much.” 

“And I want to know what the ropes of your thick cum feel like from the inside,” his jaw drops open, and he begs for whatever being out there sent you to him to have some mercy.  Filthy fucking mouth.  “Is that so wrong?” 

“If you weren’t so damn innocent while saying this, I’d want to spank you, and don’t wiggle your ass on me.  I will spank you in time.  Darling, I’ve got to pack.  I’ll bring condoms just in case,” he says, picking your body up to set on the bed.  Your eyes immediately fall to the massive bulge in his pants.

“I’m sorry,” no you’re not.

“It’s fine.  It’s just my body reacting to the love of my life destroying my brain,” he leaves the bedroom, and your eyes go so large watching him.  You heard it.  You did not dream it.  He called you the love of his life so nonchalantly that it shocks you.  How did he say that and make no other comment?  Did he realize he said it, or was his hard on confusing his brain?  

Surely that was a mistake.  He didn’t mean it.  He was just speaking because he had to get away from this situation.  But what if he’s being serious?  What if it was just spoken out loud out of confusion, but it’s something he has truly been feeling?  You have.  You know that you love that man.  You know that not only are you giving up everything for that man, that you want to spend the rest of your life with him. 

There is not ever going to be anything better than him.  He is exactly who you want.  And you want to remember this time.  The time when it is just you and him, trying to figure out how you’re going to go about leaving all that you know behind.  How you’re going to have to leave your family forever.  There isn’t going back.  There’s this life, or Ari’s, and you think you chose his life a long time ago.  

Just breathe.  

It’s only a date with the love of your life.  It’s only your first slumber party.  Nothing has to happen, but you also don’t think your body can continue to hold back from him.  You are too curious, and you’re ready.  As long as you’re with him.  

Ari can’t keep his eyes off you.  Not only do you look fucking amazing in what his sister calls a milkmaid dress, you look at ease.  Every curve is on display in that boner inducing dress.  Your bonnet is off your head with your baby hairs waving in the wind.  He wonders if you’ll cut your hair once you’re out of the community.  Wonders if you’ll let him treat you to a mani/pedi.  Will you want to travel around the world?  Will you let him treat you?  Spoil you?  

Will you allow him to give you choices?  Will there be times that you let him take the reins?  He doesn’t know and doesn’t care.  He just wants to experience it all with you.  

Even just looking at you leaning over the window.  Your sweet self just watches everything drive by, almost like you’ve never seen something quite like it.  There’s a reason he likes this truck, and it’s the bench seat.  He had hoped you’d scoot real close to him, but he’d hate to miss this view. 

“Quit staring,” you break him from his concentration of your body, while also trying to keep his eyes on the road.  He has the most precious cargo inside.  “I feel your eyes on me,” you peek over to him, and he is in fact sideways glancing at you.  “You’re making my skin prickle.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you exhale.  Sitting up in the seat, you lay your hands in your lap, and whatever it is you’re doing with your arms, it makes your breasts look even more scrumptious.  You make it difficult to breathe.  “Are you fucking me with your eyes?” 

Thank goodness for a red light, because Ari looks down at his lap, begging his cock not to react.  He loves the way you innocently spout filthy bullshit like that.  You have the mouth of a sailor sometimes, and no ability to keep it quiet.  “Yes,” he responds.  He won’t lie to you.  

“What are you doing to me in your mind?” Ari exhales deeply, shaking his head as he starts to accelerate.  He could be honest.  Heaven knows that your books have said worse.  “Am I leaning over this seat, and letting you fuck my mouth?” 

“No,” although that is a thought.  Just a small drive down the road with your mouth full of him.  Ass in the air, so he can play with your pretty pussy, and him trying to pay attention to the road.

“Am I turned in my seat like this?” You spin around to look at him, keeping one leg on the floor, while the other rests on the seat.  “With my dress pulled up like this, and I move my panties to the side like this?” his eyes stay on your core as you shift those lacy pink panties to the side, and he sees your cunt drenched in arousal.

You’re trying to kill him.  “Did you shave again?” 

“I like that there’s a secret that no one else can see.  But you,” he gulps, looking at your spread thighs.  Your tight pussy that no one, but him has seen on full display.  Glistening in the sunlight.  You spread yourself open, and he sees your tight little hole that he wants so badly to sink his cock into.   “I want you to get a good look at your cum leaking out of me.” 

“Fuck,” Ari grunts, rushing over to the side of the road.  He slams the truck into park, and just sits there deep breathing.  You are both an angel and a devil, and you were sent here to destroy him. 

“Does that bother you?” 

“Nope,” his voice squeaks.  He doesn’t want to get hard just yet.  But he’s running out of stupid things to think about that aren’t the words coming out of your sinful mouth.  

“Or are you thinking about letting me ride your fingers as we drive down the road?” That is a start.  “Pulling my dress down like this, so you can watch me pant?”  peeling your dress away you let each of your breasts spill out.  You would walk around with no bra on.  You would let your tits hang out while your pussy is spread.  And he would be the devil if he had you right here.  

“You’re a filthy fucking girl, you know that?” 

“Only for you,” you smile.  He finally looks over towards you, and you’re on full display.  Tits hanging out, pussy spread wide open.  Thank fuck for tinted windows.  He could just about come in his pants like a fucking teenage boy.  That’s the way you make him feel.  Young and inexperienced.  

“Show me what you do at night in your bed when you think about me,” your head tilts to the side, and your mouth lifts in the most evil devil may care grin.  “Go on,” he sighs, scooting closer in the seat to you.  

He plants himself close enough to you that you can still reach in between your legs to pleasure yourself.  Leaning forward, he grabs one breast in his hand, and gives it a hard suck before moving to the other.  His tongue flicks over your nipple, and he gives it a gentle bite.  Getting the little bud hard and sensitive before pulling off you.  

“Fuck yourself,” he taunts.  You hesitate for too long, and he reaches, and pinches both nipples at the same time, and brings you closer to him.  Your mouth lags open, and you hold your breath at the intensity of his stare.  “Fuck yourself.  Or…” his fingers roll your nipples in between them, and you chirp at the feeling. 

“Or?” Your chest heaves.  God, he feels good.  He feels like the best thing in the world.  

“Climb in my lap, and make yourself feel good,” he hasn’t dry humped in who knows how long.  But he is aching.  Unable to keep himself from having a hard on.  His cock is at full mast, and bulging in his pants.  And if it takes you grinding on top of him to get you both off long enough to enjoy an innocent date, he’ll do what he has to do.  

“Come on.  What are you going to do?” Without a second thought, you launch yourself up, and settle on his lap.  His hands grip tight to your hips, and he reaches to the elastic of your panties, and rips the damn things off.  “Those are in the way.” 

With your dress sleeves hanging limply on your shoulders, you start rolling your hips.  Moaning at the feel of his hardened length at your center.  He isn’t inside of you yet, but this feels amazing.  You can’t even imagine what he’ll feel like once he’s reached the depths of your body.  “There’s my girl,” he pants.  His eyes moving from your eyes to your bouncing tits.  “So sensitive.  So soft.” 

He’s losing his mind.  This is something teenagers do to experiment, and has no business feeling so good to a grown man.  “So fucking good, baby.  You’re doing great,” slamming your mouth on his, you take from him greedily as you arch your back.  Increasing the filthy grinds on his body.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says.  Hands on your hips, he lifts you up a bit, before he shimmies a hand underneath you, “Two or three?” 

“What?” You pant.  What does that even mean? 

“Two or three fingers?” Oh, sweet lord.  That’s a hard question.  Almost as hard as his cock under you.  “Darling? There’s no wrong answer.” 

“Three!” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” you nod.  Your jaw slackens when you feel his thick digits touch over your most sensitive area of your body.  He moves them through your slit.  Using your honey as lube before adding pressure, and pushing into you.  “I’m okay,” you promise.  He knows you are.  He’s taking his time because he wants to memorize your face.  “Ari!” 

Three fingers break through the barrier of your walls, and you’re so tight, he swears he feels you all the way to his balls.  Honestly, this is a perfect way to start some early prep on your body.  It’ll sting when he enters your pussy.  “Oh, god,” you try to breathe as his fingers venture deeper in your body.  Not stopping until your mound rests on the palm of his hand. 

“You are doing so good,” he coos, kissing over your jaw, and down your neck.  “You take me so well, Darling.  So fucking good.  You feel so fucking good,” he leaves a trail of open mouth kisses across your neck.  Nipping and biting on your soft skin.  Going lower because if it leaves a mark, you’ll need to hide it.  And he really wants to mark you.  

He wants to take you to this stupid fair, and have you walking around looking like you have just been fucked, and they’re going to know who fucked you.  Well, sort of.  “There’s my girl,” his voice is so low as you start to work yourself over him. 

Rising and falling over him, and relishing in the feeling of him stretching you out.  Of him devouring your neck, and groping your body.  Moments like these, you want him to use you.  To view you as only an object, because you are.  You are for his pleasure because he gives you so much pleasure.  He allows you to be you, he’s given you the freedom that you were too scared to hold within your grasp. 

And within that, you found a friend.  Someone willing to treat you like a human, and you’re equal.  Someone to build your confidence, and not shy away from the monster he created.  He wants this journey with you.  And you want everything with him.  All of life, you want him to be your guide.  Show you the way of the English.  Of real people outside of the hell you were born into.  

Sex is not evil.  Pleasure is not of the devil.  Looking in the mirror, and liking what you see is not a sin.  Exploring life with a man that you love, and is your best friend without a chaperone isn’t wrong.  You aren’t wrong.  You aren’t broken.  You just weren’t meant for their world.  You’re mean for yours.  With him in it.  

“Oh, god,” you squeak out.  Your body tensing with the deep coils of pleasure that wreak havoc on you.  “Ari!” He’s never seen you look more beautiful.  He’s feasted in on your body, but nothing has ever looked as magical as you straddling him, riding his fingers, and trying to make yourself come.  “Ari, I can’t breathe!” 

“Yes, you can.  You’re doing so good.  Making me feel so good,” you don’t know why being stretched, and feeling so full is as earth shattering as it is.  And you can only imagine what his cock nestled inside of you will feel like.  But my god, this man.  This beautiful, glorious, amazing man.  

“Come on.  Let go, Darling.  Let go, and come on my fingers.  I’m waiting for you.  Just you.  Only.  You,” the damn breaks, and you let your body gush on him.  Mewling out his name, and nonsensical words as the most amazing high rushes over your entire being, and you melt on him. 

“Fuck.  Fuck that was hot.  I’ve never came like that before,” you just mumble, nuzzling in closer to him.  Feeding off his warmth.  “Only you make me feel like that.” 

“Mhmm,” there is another hour of driving, and you’re so sleepy.  What is he going to do with you?  

“Come on,” he sighs, helping you off his body.  You can lay on his now damp leg, and nap the rest of the way.  “I’ll wake you when we get there.” 

“Okay,” you are the cutest, and still most sexy thing he’s ever seen.  He tucks your breasts back into your dress, and coaxes you into a lying position.  Letting your head rest on his thigh, and he taps your ass.  He’s going to keep you.  You’re his now. 

If Ari could ball this day up and keep it with him for all eternity, he would do it without hesitation.  He would keep this day in his pocket.  Your smile is the thing that could keep him going forever.  Forget food.  Forget water.  He just needs you and your perfect smile to get him through the day.  

Sunny.  Radiant.  Lively.  

Perfect. 

“Stop staring,” you giggle, throwing another dart at a balloon.  “I can’t concentrate with you looking at me like that.” 

“I can’t help it,” he croons.  Ari sits down on the stool, gazing up at you like the work of art you are.  

“Ari!  I got one,” you screech, jumping up and down.  “Did you see!” He smiles, nodding his head, and you jump again.  “I’ve never done that before.” 

“You’re doing great, Darling.  You got some more darts.  Keep going,” it’s unfair how you didn’t get to grow up like this.  Even if you came here, people would have been gawking at you because of your dress and bonnet.  Now they stare for other reasons.  

Ari’s eyes coast up and down your body.  The ways he wants to wreck you.  Obliterate your mind, and make you so dumb on pleasure that you forget your own name.  It suffocates him how much he needs you.  He’s been so patient, and will continue to be as patient as you need, but you take his breath away just by standing there, and leaning over.  That dress — my god, the dress.  He wants you in one all the time. 

He hears some snickering coming on the other side of you, and leans forward.  Two men devour you with their eyes.  If it was only that, he wouldn’t care.  It’s the whispering they’re doing.  Talking about you like you’re an object.   

“You think she’s wearing panties?” 

“She’s definitely not wearing a fucking bra.  Those tits.  Fuck me.  Knock a dart over.  See if when she bends over they spill out.  Whatever lucky fucker gets that tight pussy,” it’s annoying, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene.  And you aren’t paying attention.  Taking a deep breath, Ari stretches before he stands. 

“Sweetheart, you want to keep bouncing those tits?” 

“What?” “Hey!” You and Ari say at the same time, and he pushes your body behind his.  Blocking you for their view.  Let them say that shit to him.  

“If you knew what was good for you, you'd keep your mouth shut.” 

“Maybe keep your bitch covered, and men would be treating her like a fucking slut.”

“Darling, let’s go.  What did she win?” He glares at the game operator, and the young boy hands over a bunny.  Nervously he looks over to the younger men, wanting to say something, but just looks at Ari pleading.

“Yeah, you and the fucking slut better run,” the man was dying to get hit.  And Ari is trying to avoid arrest, or upsetting you further.  He notices you pulling up the top of your dress, and wrapping your arms around your body.  The once confident woman who felt beautiful, now wants to hide in her own skin.  

“What are you going to do?  Take her out back, and fuck her like the slut she is?” 

Ari growls, and spins around to look at the two men.  Clearly drunk off cheap beer, and the need to want to feel pain “Ari, let’s just go.  It’s fine.  I won a bunny.” 

“Yeah, listen to your stupid slut.  Ow, you fucking asshole!” the boy holds onto his nose before falling onto the ground.  Screaming and crying about the pain that Ari caused.  Baby.

“Ari!” It takes one hand on his shoulder to bring him out of his anger.  The drunk young man lays on the ground, clutching his face.  “Let’s just go.  Baby, I’m right here.” 

“You asshole!” The other man on the stool stands up, and walks away.  Ari knows the stupid man probably has some outstanding warrants and does not want to be caught.  “God, that hurt!” 

“Baby, look at me,” his scrunched up nose finally softens, and tenseness in his forehead eases.  “Hey, I’m okay.  Ignore that stupid man, and let's just go back to the hotel, okay?” 

“But you didn’t get to ride all the rides.” 

“I didn’t want to,” your hand rubs over his chest.  While it should have terrified you to see Ari like that, it also put you at ease knowing he would jump to your defense.  It is sexy to see him defend your honor, “I just want to be with you.  We had fun.  I got the bunny.  Let’s just head on back, okay?” 

“Call me baby again,” his mouth finally turns up in a weak smile.  You’d call this man whatever he asked you to.  

“Baby, let’s go on to the truck, yeah?” nodding his head, he lays down a $100 bill, and nods to the game operator.  It’s the least he can do since the big baby on the ground is still groaning and carrying on.  

The boy is lucky that you had the ability to stop him.  Ari had every intention of crawling on top of him and not stopping until he was unrecognizable.  Nobody was going to talk to you that way.  Ever.  

“Darling, you look gorgeous tonight.  You don’t look like a slut.” 

It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve ever been called.  It’s the old thoughts that the Amish have put in your brain.  If you give men something to desire, they will.  They will want, and they will take.  Vanity is a sin.  Modestly is the way a woman should dress.  Showing your skin makes you deserve those men to talk to you like that. 

“Ari?” He hums, squeezing your hand.  “Why does it feel different when you say those things?” 

“What?” He asks, stopping in front of you.  “Explain?” 

“I like when you call me a slut,” his brows lift up, and he whispers out an oh.  “I didn’t like being called a bitch.  Unless — you say I’m like a needy bitch in heat.” 

“You know you can always tell me not to say those things?  We don’t always have to have the dirty talk.” 

“I know,” you reassure him by standing on your tippy toes, and pressing a sweet kiss on his lips.  “Is that why it’s different?  Because I know you don’t look at me and see me as a dirty slut?  Because you love — like me a lot.” 

“Y-y-yeah,” his voice trembles as he pulls you into his body.  “I like you a whole lot,” you sigh, letting his warm sticky body soothe you.  “I like you so much I just might just love you.” 

“Yeah?” You can’t help the smile that spreads over your face.  A smile that he feels on his chest.  He makes you happy, and it’s the first time that he has truly realized it.  

“Yeah,” he whispers.  Ari pulls you off his body and gazes down on you.  Using his thumb to gently caress your lips.  “I do love you.” 

“You can’t say things like that.” 

“Why?” 

“Because…” 

“Because why?” 

“Because, Ari!” 

“You don’t have to say anything back,” he grins.  “But I need you to know.  I’m tired of keeping it from you.” 

“What if I want to say it back?” 

“Then say it,” he dares.  Smiling at your slight discomfort.

You feel it.  You know it.  It sounds crazy.  But this isn’t new.  You’ve decided you want to leave with the man.  You clearly love him.  So why is it hard to say it?  Why does it feel so overwhelming?  “I do, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know,” his cheeky smile sets you over the edge.

”I do!  I just have never said that.  I don’t even think I’ve said it to my parents,” that is a sobering thought.  You weren’t taught to be overly affectionate.  You just existed.

“If it’s that hard, we’ll practice it later.” 

“But I do!  I love you!  And I don’t want to say it later, I want to say it now.” 

“Then say it,” he chuckles.  Stupid handsome face.  It’s hard.  

“It’s just hard.  It feels foreign on my lips,” but you want to say it.  You want him to know how much you love him. 

“You know, you already have said it?” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“You completely did.  So if you want to say it again…” 

“I love you,” you giggle, collapsing yourself in his arms for a hug, and pulling back.  “I love you!” 

“Not so hard, huh?” 

“Well, the first time it is.” 

“It is.  Because loving someone means you trust them with every part of you.  I’ll protect you, Darling.  There’s more assholes like that.  There’s more wieners that think they can talk to you however they want.  Make you feel inferior for just wanting to make yourself feel beautiful, and they’re wrong.  You don’t look like a slut.  You look like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.  Don’t ever let any man make you feel that you have to hide your body.  Don’t go walking around nude at the fair, but if you feel comfortable showing off your curves and your body, you should be able to.  And only during certain times, can I say those things to you.” 

“That’s what I want,” he tugs your dress back down to where it was.  Showing off a bit more cleavage, and you still look beautiful and classy.  “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, Darling.  You wanna grab something to eat?” 

“Nope,” your voice is melodic as you pull at his hand, and walk towards the truck.  “I’d rather head back to the hotel, so you can fuck me,” he lets out a long breath of air.  “But first, we’re going to make love.  And don’t try and talk me out of it, okay?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“I’m going to go take a shower,” your voice is nearly a whisper as you walk towards the bathroom.  Ari gives you a nod while he takes his shoes off.  Stretching and yawning when he stands upright.  

He looks to the bed, and just stares.  “Ari?” 

“Yeah?” He turns to look at you as you let your delicious dress fall to the ground.  His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. And he looks you up and down as you stand there nervously.

“That was an invitation to join me in the shower.” 

“Oh,” he reaches towards his back, and pulls off his shirt, and tosses it to the side.  Ari yanks open his jeans, and pulls them down.  Walking towards you in nothing but his boxer briefs.  He steps right up to your nearly naked body, pulling you flush with him. 

He’s clammy.  Dangerously so.  You smooth your hands up his stomach, and settle over his heart, “Ari, why are you shaking?” 

“I don’t know,” because you terrify him.  You make all these feelings that he never thought he would have come to surface, and it’s overwhelming.  It’s almost feeling like he’s brand new for the first time in such a long time. 

“You’re the one with — experience here.” 

“I know,” he whispers, ghosting his mouth over your neck.  Pushing open mouth kisses over your sensitive skin.  “But I’ve never — been in love,” oh.  Oh, that hits a bit different.  A lot a bit different.  “So this isn’t just sex,” his fingers grip your panties before he slides them off your legs, and waits for you to step out of them.  And then you do the same with his briefs.  Gulping when his cock springs free.  That was quick.  Gripping tightly to your hips, he starts walking the two of you into the bathroom.  

“It’s so much more,” he lifts you up.  Letting your legs wrap around his body as he maneuvers his way to the shower.  Your fingers gently pet over him, and you push out every thought of your life.  The only thing that matters is the golden tan of Ari’s skin.  The freckles that dot along his shoulder.  

The way that his cock bobs under you.  The ripples of his muscles as he turns the water on, and lets it get to the most perfect temperature.  He smells like sunshine, and the sweetest sin, and you commit this moment to memory.  Nothing could ever feel like this.  This is the moment where your life will change forever.  Nothing will ever be like this.  And yet, there will come a day when it will always be like this.  

Today will be the normal, instead of the exception.  You’ll have adventures with Ari, and then you’ll come back somewhere and enjoy his body.  You’ll get to have it all.  Experience everything with your best friend.  The first you’ve ever had.  

Ari steps into the stream, and lets the water hit your back first.  He gets to physically feel and see your body become even more relaxed.  Pliable even.  No hesitation.  No fear.  You want this.  You want him.  And he’s terrified he’s going to do something to fuck this up.  Maybe he already has by kidnapping you, and giving you a taste of the world outside of your community.  

Your body curls into him, and your mouth attaches to his skin.  Never letting up.  Drowning in his scent, and begging for his sin.  “Ari?” He hums, and you look up at him through hooded lids.  Very little blue is left in his eyes as his lust blows his pupils out wide.  “Touch me.” 

“I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop.” 

“That’s what I want.” 

“Not in the shower.” 

“With you,” you whimper.  Arching your back you start grinding on him.  “I don’t care.  Because it’s with you.  Ari,” you can’t say his name like that, and expect him not to react.  It’s a struggle.  He knows how delicate this situation is, and he wants you to have no regrets.  But you’re as needy as a bitch in heat.  

“Ari,” there you go, moaning his name again.  Heating up his body in the best way.  Smearing your slick all over his stomach.  Pleasuring yourself at this moment while he is just enjoying the show.  Watching you move over him.  Taking what you need to feel good.  But it’s not enough.  Never enough.  

“Ari,” he wants to swim in your sounds.  Just watching you could get him off alone.  “Ari, if you don’t put your cock in me immediately, I am going to scream.” 

“Darling.” 

“Please!  Ari, please, I just need to feel you right now.  I am ready.  I’m not going anywhere.  Take all of me.  It’s yours,” the admission is enough to send him hurling off a ledge.  “I love you, and I want, oh god,” your eyes roll back in your head as he lifts you off his body a bit.  

Gripping the base of his cock, he smooths it through your drenched folds.  Gathering up your slick like it’s his own personal lube, and he steps closer to the wall.  Pressing your heated back against the cold tiles, and he guides his cock right to your entrance.  “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.  Keep your eyes on me.” 

“Okay,” your voice squeaks out, but your body is relaxed.  Ready for whatever it is he gives you.  Your jaw goes slack as his tip breaches your entrance, and you forget to breathe.  Pressure mixed with an odd sense of pleasure mixed with the feeling of having him closer than you will ever allow anyone else builds up in your core.  

“Stay just like this, Darling.  You’re doing so well, baby.  Just a little more,” pushing another inch in, your voice strains out of your throat.  Clawing at his back because you need him close to get through the piercing stretch of accommodating his massive size.  

“Thatta girl.  You’ve got all of me.  Every part of who I am, you have.  I love you,” his voice whispers at the end, and you know he was trying to distract you from him pushing completely through.  Speared on his cock like a hood ornament, you try and breathe.  Trying to gain some self composure, while also trying to feel everything. 

It’s mostly a stinging pain, but around it is the buzz of the most beautiful pleasure.  Because he’s yours.  He loves you, and he’s all yours.  Through all his experiences, he’s never given this side of him to anyone.  No one but you.  In your way, you’re taking his virginity, not in the same way he is yours.  

You let out a shaky breath, and Ari grins.  “There’s my girl.  You’re doing so good.  Breathe, baby.  I need you to keep breathing.  You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you muffle out.  Your eyes are looking at him, but you’re still not present in your head.  You’re thinking too much of the stretch.  Oh, the stretch.  That sweet glorious feeling of your body doing what it needs to do to have Ari nestled inside your warmth.  

“How are you feeling?” 

“Floating.” 

“Floating,” he repeats wistfully.  “Darling?” You nod your head, and he knows that you’re giving him an okay to start moving.  His hips draw backwards, and you whine at the absence of him.  You’re in a bad way, and you know it when having him not fully sheathed in you makes you want to cry.  

And then the sweet moment of him pushing back into you happens and you want to sing.  The sting turns into a dull ache, and you nod your head again.  Ari repeats his motion.  Moving his hips back to pull most himself out of you, but this time his hips snap forward.  Your eyes roll into the back of your head, “Yes.” 

“You like that?” He pulls himself out, and thrusts back in so deeply and roughly that you know that you are on a high.  Everything around you is fuzzy, and all you see, all you feel is him.  He repeats his motions over and over again, and the pain turns into pure, unadulterated, filthy pleasure.  

“Yeah!” 

“Oh, you like when I’m a bit rough, huh?” you like whatever the fuck he is doing.  And you cling and claw to his back to ground yourself.  Reminding you that you are here with him.  Inside of you.  “Oh, yeah.  You like it,” he’s such an arrogant asshole.  

He stabs himself into you at a rapid pace.  You could just about drool with the amount of pleasure his body is giving yours.  Weak.  You are so weak from him.  His being.  His presence.  Him.  Whatever he’s doing to you is a bonus.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

“Just keep doing this,” you moan.  Your head leans back on the cool tiles, and you invite the shiver that races through your body.  You’re so heated, and beyond saving because you’ve succumbed to the most beautiful sin with no regrets.  “Don’t ever stop.” 

“Darling,” he starts pushing into you with so much need and desire that you melt into his embrace.  Whatever he is doing, you pray that he never stops. “I’m not going to be able to stop.  Now that I’ve had you, it’s going to be painful to be away from you.” 

“Harder.” 

“Baby,” Ari warns.  You can’t say things like that and expect him to be gentle.  He needs you to just stay calm. 

“Harder!” 

“This is your first time.” 

“Harder!” And he crashes into you.  Wave after wave.  Over and over.  Harder with every screaming pound into you.  Speaking in tongues, you slice down his back, trying to find purchase, and not pass out from the immense pleasure.  

You don’t even know what is coming out of your mouth, just that you don’t ever want it to stop.  You want to die by the hands of his euphoria.  You can’t see.  You can’t feel anything but this beautiful high.  You don’t know where he starts and you begin.  Didn’t know an orgasm could draw out this long and make every bit of your body curl in anticipation.  

Ari has found the woman of his dreams, and she is right in his arms, taking the fucking of a lifetime.  You haven’t run.  You haven’t begged for him to stop.  You just keep getting softer, and mold more to him.  You were made for him.  He saw it before this moment, but now he feels it.  And he was made for you.  He doesn’t know how he’s going to let you walk back to your house.  Your home is with him now. 

But he can’t keep you.  Not like this.  But soon. 

He can’t think about that.  Not when you are clenching around his cock, and your body moves and recoils with his pounding thrusts into you.  He will never be the same.  Not watching your body drip with sweat, water from the shower, pleasure, and your blood.  He won’t ever recover.  

“I love you so much,” he grunts out your real name, and you’re so high and floating on a cloud you can barely comprehend it.  “I’m going to marry you, and if you want, make cute babies with you, and we’re going to be so happy,” that’s all you’ve ever wanted.  Happiness.  Freedom.  Love.  Comfort.  Intimacy.  Him. 

“I can’t breathe when I’m not with you,” you can’t either.  You can’t even think about anything but him.  With one hand supporting your ass, his other hand moves your head to look at him.  “I know you’ve been having some little orgasms,” you’ve been plummeting off a cliff.  There’s nothing little about it.  “Keep your eyes on me.” 

“I can’t,” it’s taking everything in you to not pass out. 

“I need you to.  I’ve never came inside of someone before.  I need this,” you’ll give it to him then.  Steadying yourself you watch his beautiful face.  The way that the sun has dotted freckles across his nose and cheeks, the lines that show the many smiles and laughs he’s had.  He’s so beautiful when he’s inside of you.  His only focus on you, and this moment. 

“Uhh!  Ari!” You scream out at him as you walk to the edge of the cliff again.  Ready to just dive into the water as pleasure floods your veins.  “Ari!” 

With a low rumbling growl, Ari’s cock drives right into the very center of you, you swear it’s in your tummy.  Holding it there for a mere second when he succumbs to his release.  His load shoots up even higher into you, and your brows knit together as the feeling of him warps your brain.  Nothing else will feel like that.  

Cock pulsing inside of your fluttering walls, he presses the most gentle kiss to your lips.  He’s trembling just as much as you are.  And he never offers to leave your body.  He just gazes upon the most perfect human that he could ever imagine.  You.  

“When I come back down, I’ll wash you clean.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he is going to worry about it.  But for now he’s going to bask in your post sex glow.  Blissed out and more at peace than you’ve ever been, you let your forehead rest against his.  “Nothing is going to be the same after this.” 

“I don’t want it to be,” there will be hell to pay once you’ve made it back home.  There’s no explaining away that you were with Ari overnight.  You’ll worry about that later.  Because all you care about is the way he’s looking at you.  And the way he feels.  The way he is.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @rnurse-kole @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @patzammit

@theolivia-1 @steviebbboi @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @kandis-mom 

[shiggyscumrag]

Rush back to the game

Warnings: Tsukishima Kei x female!reader (could also be gender neutral), enemies to fuck buddies trope, finger sucking, degrading, praise, a little bit of spit play, head m receiving, cursing.

A/n: just felt like writing for one of my favorite men 😋😋 this is aged up division 2 Sendai frogs Tsukishima Kei, my man my man my man!!! I could possibly make a part 2 for after the game for a continuation and some locker room talk with other well known players!!!!

You’re quickly following behind Tsukishima to the infirmary thinking about how this is not the route you thought the game would take. A particularly sharp spike against Tsukishima block caused his skin to rip. To you it seemed like he was more annoyed by the inconvenience rather than the injury. Making it to the doors the athletic trainer quickly starts to wrap his hand but the blood won’t stop pouring from the tip of his fingers.

“Once the blood stops you can play. I’ll come back in 10 minutes to check on you.” The trainer addressed to Tsukishima. “Stay here and make sure he actually stays here to rest.” The trainer then addressed to you.

“Yes sir.” You simply say with a smile. Once the door closes behind the trainer you find a seat in the swivel chair.

“You don’t have to baby sit me.” He says dryly staring at the bandaged hand, now soaked in blood.

“I don’t mind sitting with you. It’ll help pass the time?” That definitely came out more apprehensive than originally intended.

“I don’t need you to entertain me.” He sighs finally looking you in the eye. Half lidded since he’s looking down at you from the bed.

“We don’t have to talk.” You say in response starting to swivel the seat back and forth.

“I’d rather be in the game right now. I’m fine and yet they won’t let me play.” He stands up looking around the table for any supplies. “There’s gotta be more wrap around here somewhere. I’ll wrap myself up and go back to the game.” Rummaging through a cabinet you get up and step in front of him.

“You’re bleeding Tsukishima. It’s a safety hazard if you get blood on the ball. The only thing to do is to wait it out and hope your fingers stop bleeding.” You roll your eyes becoming annoyed with his attitude.

“I know that.” He scoffs looking away from you. Turning around and standing with his arms crossed.

“Then why are you complaining as if you don’t?” You say sitting back down and spinning to a stop facing him. He scoffs again shaking his head.

“Why the team chose you to be our advisor, I’ll never know.”

“You seem to be the only one on the team that thinks that.” You say with a smile. He turns to face you with his arms crossed like a pouty kid.

“Really? Or is the team just not being honest with you?” He says with a smirk, snarky as ever.

It’s hard to not let your smile fade slightly with that comment. Hitting a insecurity you didn’t think you had anymore.

“Does the team remind you how big of a dick you are whenever you open your mouth? Or are they just not being honest with you?” You say standing up and crossing your arms to match his energy. “You gotta be acting like this to make up for something.”

Glaring down at you the tension rises and so does the flush on your cheeks. You have to admit he’s really fucking hot and super intimidating. Which makes you love messing with him. You match each other’s energy like this on the daily. After a couple of weeks with this on and off sass and bickering you both gave in. You hooked up in the showers after a night practice. Then a few practices later you hooked up again after helping Tsuki “put away the net”. This is how it always started, a heated back and forth, then a make out sesh and ended by hate sex.

Without saying a word he grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a kiss. Dropping your arms you move in closer finding his jersey crumpled in your hands. Pulling back you push him against the bed, sitting down he wraps around your waist pulling you in closer. Finding each others lips again you continue to make out until you find his hard on with your wandering hands. His hands are under your shirt starting to feel up your waist making there way to your bra. Moaning you untuck a his shirt and find your hand under his waistband in his boxers. Knowing your on a time crunch you pull away from his lips and quickly stretch his waist band back to spit down onto his tip. Shuddering against you he lets out a heavy sigh as you start to pump your hand up and down his cock.

“Fuck don’t stop.” He moans under his breath quietly sighing while leaning his head on your shoulder. Ego stroked you let your wrist move fast not wasting time. His lips on your neck leaving kisses up to your ear.

“Feels so good when you move your hand like that.” Nibbling on your ear you moan and pick up the pace. Becoming impatient you pull back getting down on your knees mouth quickly finding his tip. Swirling around him you bob your head up and down taking him as far as you can. Slightly gagging you pull back up slowly sucking him up hard. His body shaking his head falls back and a groan comes out. One hand finding his balls you start to roll them gently in your palm. He grips your head with his good hand and it encourages you to go deeper and harder. Not even a minute later you feel him groan out and hold your head down on him. He’s coming down your throat and you can’t help the pride that swells in your chest. Pulling back you lick him clean. Standing up again you kiss making him taste himself on your tongue.

“No more shit talking me when I can make you cum like that.” You say grabbing his chin giving him one last peck. “Now tuck in your shirt before he comes back. You got a game to finish.” Stepping back you sit on the stool again and watch him clean himself up with a bright flush on his cheeks. He was so cute all flustered like this, if only you could see him like this more often.

“If you keep making me cum like that we won’t have a problem.” He says looking at you leaning forward hands on his knees.

You move closer leaving a soft kiss on his lips. You open your eyes slowly finding his closed. You place another more urgent kiss with hands on either side of his cheeks. Falling to his knees gently he leans into your passionate kiss hands griping lightly onto your waist.

“You’re gonna give me another boner, we have to stop.” He says pulling back looking at the door expecting someone to come in any minute now.

“Wouldn’t want to embarrass you on tv.” You say winking with a smile. Though you don’t hate the thought of the whole division including all of Tsukis friends and fans knowing someone has him all hot and bothered. You couldn’t help the wet spot forming in your panties from the thought of him jumping around to block with a boner you gave him. Stopping the metaphorical drool falling from your mouth, you voice your thoughts.

“Once the game is over I can re-wrap your hands for you since you’ll be tired and all.” You say looking up at him entranced by your batting eyelashes. Your nails scratching slowly up and down his sides. He kisses you again and nods.

“Yeah I’d like that.” Shivering as your nails tickled his skin through his jersey.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Wife - Pt1

benji blackwood x preg!targ!fem!reader 

His Princess series spin off 

Summary: Two months after settling into Raventree Hall with your new husband. You’re four months pregnant and going through your first pregnancy which isn’t easy but Benji has no issue doing anything and everything to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f), p in v, pregnancy, birth - detailed but not like super intense, time skips

Authors Note: i wish i had a valid reason of why it took me so FKN long to start this!!!! i think it’s bc i don’t want this series to truly end like i literally have a whole timeline and everything planned out for this but it wasn’t time yet 😔🧎🏼‍♀️ as an apology i made him a munch 🤗

Word Count: 4.1k

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4 months pregnant 

It’s been just over two months since we’ve arrived at Raventree Hall. Our first few weeks consisted of us unpacking the wagons filled with my things and making preparations for housing Vermithor and Silverwing. My mother sent supplies to help support the dragon pit and men have been unloading it daily and it’s near completion now.

Benji attends meetings when he’s not in the yard with his men helping make up for the losses they have suffered. I wish to be out there helping but ever since I started showing it’s been impossible for me to leave the castle without him hauling me back inside. I must admit I’m jealous of the amount of time the men get to spend with my husband. 

My bump is not noticeable when I’m wearing my gowns but he knows it’s there so therefore I apparently can’t do anything. I don’t necessarily mind not training and exuding so much energy everyday but I would like to walk the grounds on my own time. The thing I’m thankful for most is that there is a back exit allowing me to walk directly to Silverwing and he’s smart enough not to keep me from her. 

I cried for days when she laid a clutch. We have become so fiercely inseparable since then that I sneak out here even in the middle of the night to curl up with her. I’ll wake in the middle of the night to a blanket wrapped around me and Benji sitting across from me with worry written across his features. 

“The ground is too hard for you and our child.” his voice rough as he adjusts his back. 

“Then make me a bed.” I turn to him with no intention of getting up. 

“You have one in our chambers.” he looks at me with tired eyes. 

“I want to sleep here.” I murmur. 

“I want you to sleep next to me.” he sits up straighter. 

“Then come here.” I pat the ground next to me. 

“I’ll have a bed out here by tomorrow night.” he sighs before coming to curl up with me and Silverwing. 

Vermithor grumbles and circles around Silverwing before thudding to the ground. Benji pulls my back against his chest and lays his hand across my growing stomach. My hand holds his as I lean back into him and fall back asleep.

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5 months pregnant 

Benji kept his word and had a bed brought in the very next day. We were nervous our dragons would scorch it but Silverwing protects it when I’m not there. The daily meetings have finally lessened as everyone is settling into their new stations. New commanders and trainers have been selected and everyday life is starting to go back to normal. 

As the air begins to chill the more time I spend in the bath. It’s truly a work of art. Smooth stone with carved seating. The amount of handmaids and midwives that wait on me either with fresh soaps or oils is absolutely divine. Seeing this for the first time made me want to marry him again. 

“Still enjoying your bath, my wife?” Benjis voice lingers from the door frame he’s leaning on. 

“I think this is the best thing you’ve ever given me, my husband.” I look him over with low lids. 

“Thank you, ladies. You can leave us.” he nods his head to them with a soft smile as they escort themselves out of our chambers quickly.

“Mm and what have I done to deserve the pleasure of you bathing me?” I hum looking to him as he stalks over to the tub. 

“Can I not dote on my wife?” he cups my cheek and I look up at him adoringly. 

“I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me. You only seem to spend time in meetings or with your men.” I raise an eyebrow looking up to him. 

“I tried to get everything back in order as quickly as I could. You’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of time now.” he helps me rise from the bath and keeps both hands on me at all times. 

“I better or I may have to find a second husband.” I wrap the towel around me tighter as he brings us into our bed chambers. 

“Do not jest about such a thing.” his voice low as he turns to me. “I will kill any man you think could possibly replace me.” his hand goes to rest on my bump.

“Relax.” I chuckle smoothing his furrowed brow. “There is no one else for me.” our eyes lock on one another. 

“You are mine and only mine.” his brow furrows again as he pulls me closer. 

“I am yours.” I nod my head reassuring him. 

“Growing with our child.” he brings both of his hands to my bump and kneels before me. “Our son.” he kisses across my stomach as I brush his hair back. His hands trail up my thighs and my breath catches. 

“Benji,” his name barely a whisper on my tongue. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, my Princess.” he kisses across my thighs. “Come to the bed so I can show you just how sorry I am.” he smirks up at my reddened cheeks. 

As we make it to the bed he pulls my towel off and looks me over with hungry eyes. I turn to him and start to help him undress and as his skin is revealed I caress every inch. My fingertips trail down his torso and start to unlace is trousers. Once he’s freed I look up to him with low lids and he backs me up to the bed. 

He lowers me onto the bed taking great care and settles between my thighs. I get frustrated that I can’t see his full head anymore when he’s between them but that thought leaves my mind the second his tongue licks against me. He spreads my thighs as he makes his way down to my core. I buck as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. My breath comes out in pants as he pushes his tongue in me. I buck against his nose and feel my pleasure about to burst. His tongue slides back up to my bud and moans pour from my mouth. 

“Fuck Benji, yes,” I fist the sheets as I come undone with my chest heaving. He lifts up from my thighs licking his lips. He kisses up to my mouth and I whine as I feel him start to push into me. He slowly kisses me as he rolls his hips into mine. Our tongues caress each other as he continues at a languid pace. I whine into his mouth as I feel my pleasure begin to build. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he pants as his rhythm starts to falter. “My wife, my princess.” he whispers and I come undone around him. I feel him still as his warmth spreads throughout causing my toes to curl. He slowly pulls out and rests next to me, smoothing my hair. He leaves soft kisses along my neck as his hand rests across my bump. After we settle for a couple of minutes I turn to him. 

“I want to-“ 

“I know, I know.” he kisses my forehead before rolling out of bed. He pulls on a pair of night pants before he finds me a night dress and brings it over to me. He helps me sit up and slips the soft fabric over my head. We walk down the back steps and curl up with our dragons. 

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6 months pregnant 

I roll my eyes as Benji clips me into Silverwing and triple checks that everything is secure. Silverwing grumbles at the same time as I exhale loudly. I hear Benjis soft chuckle as he pulls back to look at me. He kisses across my furrowed brow before placing a quick kiss on my lips. 

“Stop pouting.” he bites his lip to stifle his laugh. 

“Then get off. We want to fly.” my hands squeeze the leather reins. 

“At once, princess.” he bows and I curse lowly at him much to his delight. “I’ll see you in the skies.” once I see him walking to Vermithor we launch into the sky. Silverwing glides us along the breeze along the countryside and I let my eyes drift shut. The wind blows through my hair and we slowly make our way up to the clouds. 

I open my eyes when I feel the cool kiss of the clouds against my cheeks. Silverwing sings as she pushes us through them as I smile and lean against her. I hear a deep hum and see Benji below us on Vermithor. We dip down to them and they circle around us. Our dragons sing to each other as they fly on the breeze together before bringing us back home. 

“You two are magnificent.” Benji stands at Silverwings feet and looks up to us. I unclip and climb down to the side and Benjis hands are around my waist immediately. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he looks me over, always assessing. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” I grab his cheeks and look in his eyes nodding. “You don’t need to be so protective.” 

“It’s my job to be protective.” Benji starts to lead me up the stairs to our chambers and I groan. 

“Yes, I know.” I sigh as he starts to take off my jacket and boots. “It’s just overbearing sometimes.” I mumble sitting back into a chair as he tries to unlace my shirt. 

“You don’t even want to undress yourself.” he chuckles as he starts to lift the fabric over my head. 

“Because you’ll insist you do it.” I relax further back and he begins to shimmy off my trousers. 

“Do you want me to stop?” his tone borderline mocking and I squint my eyes at him. 

“Benji do not test me.” he smirks at my words. 

“I can call your handmaidens up here.” he hums as he pulls my trousers the rest of the way off. 

“Then leave.” I huff looking down at him. “I don’t know why you insist on being so difficult.” he holds back his smile. 

“Relax, my wife. I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” he kisses up my leg smirking against my skin. 

“Use your mouth for something useful or leave.” I prop myself up to look down at him. 

“So which is it then? Leave or don’t?” he licks his lips. 

“I should throw you in the dueng-“ a moan tears through me as he licks up my slit. He stays buried between my thighs until I’m crying out his name and shaking beneath him. He pulls off his clothes before settling next to me and splaying his hand across my bump with his face next to his. 

“I can’t wait for you to join us out here. I’m scared of mommy.” he whispers and I tug his hair. 

“Benjicot.” I scold. 

“I think she’s just so excited to meet you that is making her lose her patience.” he coos peppering kisses against my swollen stomach. 

“Daddy doesn’t understand what I’m going through to bring you to us.” I hum rubbing my stomach. “And if daddy doesn’t mind his words he’ll find himself unable to speak any.” Benji chuckles, coming up to place a kiss on my lips. 

“You are absolutely radiant and if you want me to be silent for the rest of our days then I shall be.” he kisses down my jaw and before cuddling me against him. 

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7 months pregnant 

The days have begun to feel longer and I’m now grateful for Benji waiting on me hand and foot. Lately the only reason I’m out of bed is to sit in the bath. My mother sent a dozen midwives and maesters to aid me in the coming months to help me adjust. I’ve just felt so uncomfortable and I miss flying. 

“Let me help you back to bed.” Benji pleads from outside of the tub. 

“I feel even more uncomfortable in bed.” my voice cracks as I look to him. 

“The water is cold and you’re pruning.” his brows furrowed as he holds my hand. 

“I don’t care.” my lip wobbles. 

“What can I do to get you out of the tub?” he kneels down searching my eyes. 

“I want to see Silverwing.” my eyes pleading. 

“That’s a lot of stairs.” he winces as I sigh loudly. 

“Then just get me up.” I wave my hand angrily. 

“My love-“ 

“Just get me up. I don’t care.” I snap as I start to rise out of the bath ignoring my back yelling in protest. His hands fly to my waist and wrap around me under my arms to help me step out. I walk slowly back over to the bed and ease onto it with a grunt. 

“Do you want me to get the midwives or maesters?” Benji looks down at me worriedly. 

“No.” I wince pushing myself up. “I don’t want anything.” I glance at him before pulling the blankets over me. “Just leave.” I huff at the hot tears running down my cheeks. 

“My princess, please,” he steps toward me. 

“Benji, just give me an hour.” I toss my head back into the pillow. I curse myself for being so mean to him. I’m just uncomfortable and I hate all of the restrictions. The past month has been so uncomfortable I can’t bear it anymore. I’m getting so pent up and stir crazy I don’t know how I’ll be able to do this for two more months. I brush away my tears as I settle further into the bed letting my only other reprieve: sleep take over.

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I open my eyes to a dimly lit room and Benji asleep in a chair at the end of the bed. I sigh at myself that my actions and words made him feel the need to sleep in a chair. I stretch down and push my foot against his leg to wake him up. He slowly blinks and looks to me with a lazy smile. 

“How are you my beautiful wife?” he hums watching my cheeks flush. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean.” my voice small and he frowns. 

“You’re not mean. Why would you think that?” he stands and walks to my side to brush my hair back. 

“You didn’t sleep in bed with me.” I look up to him. 

“You asked me to give you space. I figured that staying at the end of the bed was a good compromise.” he leans down to kiss my forehead. 

“Come to bed.” I push my bottom lip out and he chuckles. He slips into bed beside me and we turn to look at one another. “I’m sorry.” a tear slips down my cheek. 

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for.” he shakes his head. 

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8 months pregnant 

“Why did you send word for her?” my voice travels throughout our chambers. 

“You won’t leave our chambers or see any midwife or maester. You won’t let them even check up on the babe. Who else did you expect me to write to? She can give us answers without even needing to see you.” I fume at his words. 

“Gods know if you ever ceased contact with Alys in the first place.” I roll my eyes at him as I ease myself down to the couch with shaky arms. 

“Enough.” Benji says through his teeth as he helps me sink to the cushions. “Can I bring her up?” he looks down to me clenching his jaw. 

“Whatever pleases you.” I huff resting back. I’m doing fine, I just don’t want so many people around me. I feel claustrophobic in my own body. I don't need to feel like that in my chambers as well. As Alys walks through the door she seems to glide over to me and looks at me with curious eyes. 

“How are you, princess?” she asks taking a seat next to me. 

“Ready to have this babe.” I sigh, resting my hand on my swollen stomach. 

“Any discomfort?” I laugh at her question. 

“Of course. Look at me.” I turn my head to her with a smile. “Benji is insistent on having every person available hover over me. I’m just tired.” Alys looks to me with a smile. 

“Leave us.” she waves at Benji. He slips out of our chambers and I turn my head to her expectantly. “May I?” she asks, looking to my bump. 

“Go ahead.” I nod and watch as she places her hand against me. I watch as emotions pass across her face until she’s lifting her hand off and smiling at me. 

“He’s well. No issues. But you on the other hand..” she tsks. “Allow your husband to care for you.” she gives me a knowing look. “It’ll help relax you. Your tense state isn’t good for anyone. I’ll be staying to help with the birth.” she stands and walks to the door. 

“That’s unnecessary.” I call after her and she waves me off before dipping through the door. I shake my head at the fact that she said nothing of true value besides that my babe is healthy. Benji slips through the door with red cheeks and walks over to me. “What did she say to you?” I raise my eyebrow at him. 

“She told me to come in here and please you until you relax.” his voice low as his cheeks flush even darker. 

“She’s ridiculous.” I roll my eyes and watch him as he stalks over to me. 

“It’s been awhile..” he trails off standing before me. “You don’t even have to move.” he hums, getting on his knees and pushing up my night dress. 

“Benji,” my voice broken as he runs his hands up my legs. 

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bed?” he looks up to me with dark eyes. 

“The bed.” I nibble my lip. He stands and helps me over to the bed. He pulls my night dress off of me and helps prop me up against the pillows. He settles between my legs kissing both of them. His tongue darts against my inner thighs and I buck into him. His hands hold my thighs open as he licks a thick stripe up my slit. “Fuck Benji,” I tremble above him fisting the sheets. 

“Just let go princess.” he says before attaching his mouth to me. High pitched gasps fall from my mouth as he swirls his tongue around my sensitive bud. My thighs shake as he holds them open as lashes against me. I burst across his face and he keeps lapping his tongue against me. I feel my pleasure building by the second as I push back into the pillows. Benji follows my movements and slips his tongue down to my core as I grind against his face. 

“Right there Benji,” I cry out as I pulse around his tongue. He pulls up and replaces his tongue with his fingers against my bud. When I see his face I see that he’s smiling wildly with a wet chin as I squirm around his fingers. 

“How’s that feel?” he licks his lips watching me pant and grind against his hand. 

“So good,” I whine as he dips his fingers into me. A wrecked sob tears through me as I burst across his fingers. He starts to push his fingers in faster and I feel like I’m in a continuous high as I pulse around him. He slows his pace and my breathing starts to come out in little gasps. He pulls them out and lays in bed next to me as my chest heaves. “Thank you,” I turn to him with heavy lids. 

“Rest.” he presses his lips against mine and holds me as I sleep. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Birth

“I’m right here. You can hold my hand.” Benjis soft voice irritates me. 

“I don’t want to hold your fucking hand.” I grit out as another contraction washes over me.

“Hey, hey,” my mother comes to my side with a cool cloth. 

“He’s the reason I’m in this situation.” I stare daggers at him as he holds his hands up. 

“Benji, go get her a glass of water.” my mother turns to him and he’s on his feet at once with a purpose. “Focus on your breathing with me.” she looks in my eyes and nods her head. 

“It’s almost time to begin pushing.” Alys says from the doorway. 

“I have the water.” Benji pushes past Alys and is back at my side. 

“Gods everyone get away from me. I’m hot. Stop hovering.” I start to panic at the reality of me having to actually have this babe and it’s becoming overwhelming. I squeeze my eyes shut willing everyone to be quiet and let me breathe. 

“Look at me, my wife.” Benjis words catch my attention. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” I focus on his calm words as my mother lays my brow with the cold cloth. 

“I’m scared.” I look up at him as another contraction rocks through me. 

“I’m here.” Benji assures me holding my hand tightly. 

“I’m here too, sweet girl.” my mother whispers. I cry out as another cramp slams my senses. 

“It’s time.” Alys sweeps into the room and is next to the maester in seconds. 

“Push,” the maester instructs and my body responds accordingly. I scream as I push again and my mother tries to get me to focus on her breathing. Sweat forms on my brow and my mother dabs it away as I squeeze Benjis hand. 

“You’re doing amazing.” Benjis words of encouragement offer me some comfort as I feel the breath stolen from me at the pain. 

“Push princess.” Alys instructs and I groan as tears stream down my face. I push and gasp for breath. “I can see the head.” Alys nods at me. 

“You’re almost there.” my mother offers me her hand and I squeeze it tightly as I give my all into this last push. I sigh as I feel a loss of pressure and Benji chuckles from my side. I hear the babes cry and soon Alys is bringing the babe up to my arms. 

“How is he?” I cry as I hold him. 

“He’s healthy as expected.” she brushes against the babes dark silver hair. 

“You're incredible.” Benji whispers, wrapping his arm around me. The babe opens his eyes and I gasp taking in his one violet eye and his one brown eye. 

“He’s absolutely handsome.” my mother peeks over my shoulder at him. “What will you name him?” 

“Daemon.” Benji and I speak at the same time. 

“He would be so proud.” my mother brushes the hair from my forehead. “We’ll give you three some time.” she nods for everyone to clear out of our chambers. 

“Help me up.” I look to Benji. 

“I will do no such thing.” he looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it to you.” 

“I wish to put him in his crib with his egg.” I coo down to my son as I spot Benji walking over to the wooden frame. “And if daddy scrapes that crib against the floor to bring it over here and wakes you up from your sleep mommy will kick him out for the night.” I caress Daemons cheek. 

“Five minutes.” Benji relents coming to my side. I wince and groan as I rise from the bed with the babe in my arms. He helps me walk over to the crib. I place our son on the feather mattress and he turns to curl against his egg. Benji holds me against him as I lean on him for support as we watch our son sleep. “Back to bed.” he helps me slowly get back into bed and covers me before slipping in beside me.

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

okokok so i’m anticipating at least one to two more parts of this 

Part 2

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme

[ghostlyangels1204]

Simon would make a good dog dad- that's it, that's where my mind is rn <3

“Absolutely not”.

Price was full of shit. That much he knew. And with this new bright idea, Simon’s new concern had been confirmed. His Captain had absolutely gone mad. One too many bumps on the head, he reasoned, had dealt too much damage- pair that with his ‘old age’, and Simon considers sending him to a care home.

There was no doubt in his mind- he was not having a slobbering, shitting furry nuisance by his side 24/7. What the hell was Price thinking? “I don’t need no’ furry mongrel. I’m a soldier not a dog walker Cap’.”, “The K9 handler’s wife just gave birth- fella needs time off, so I thought, why not give her to the softest soldier I know?” He knew Price was pulling his leg. “Just give it a week, eh Si? Seven days and if you want rid of her, she’s gone and some other poor sod can have her to cuddle at night.”

He stares down at the puppy, no more than a few months old, who is happily chomping down on the laces of the captain’s boots. Looking up, he meets the eyes of Price, “If it shits in my boots once, I’m handing it to you personally.”

The first few days went as expected, Simon wanted to die.

4am scratching at the door to go potty. Stealing his boxers when he needed to get dressed, (Johnny took extra entertainment at that one- even forming an alliance with the puppy to hide his clothes from him during his shower- he got two weeks of cleaning the barracks for that one), and she seemed to have a special fixation on everyone’s shoe laces, nipping and tugging at the cotton until blood flow was cut-off from them being wound too tight. He wasn’t made for the level of patience required. Sure, he had to deal with new recruits daily- their brazen, ‘-I-know-it-all’ attitudes that would someday get them killed… but shouting at them would result in at least a modicum of change.

That result cannot happen as easily with dogs.

But Price began to notice a shift. The team sat down for dinner, exhausted after a hell of a long day of drills. One person was missing from the table, however, Simon. They reasoned that he must be showering or something. But when he enters the mess hall, they notice the ‘small sergeant’ by his side- head bopping up and down as she patters next to her foster handler. He sits down with a huff, and she dives down under the table, spinning in circles before curling up next to Simon’s feet. She rests her head on the toe of his boots before closing her eyes.

“She needed a run around- little mutts’ wound up. Won’t sleep tonight if I don’t tire her out…”

The rest of the men smirk to themselves- Price always knew to trust his intuition.

And when day seven came around, Simon didn’t mention anything. Price knew he never forgets anything, so he was actively avoiding it. Avoiding having to admit he maybe, just maybe… liked having her around. He knocks twice on his office door, a gruff, “come in” allowing him to enter the Lieutenant’s space. Price does a quick scan of the room, eyes landing on the prize.

She’s cuddled up on a bed Simon had ordered for her, the pastel pink standing out like a sore thumb in Simon’s dull, grey office. The bed is nicer than his own, two blankets decked out with floral patterns covering the pillowy surface, a small teddy bear tucked under her chin as she sleeps the evening away.

One look is all Price needs, his eyes plead both, “Don’t even start,” with, “Please don’t make me give her up.”

“Made a friend?” Price teases, opting for a softer approach. He has no intent of taking her away, just wants his soldier to admit, that maybe he in fact, was wrong.

 “Like you wouldn’t believe…”

Word Count: 662

[momo-minomo]

Fic Fairy Friday: Batfam Valentines Special

Happy Valentines Day everyone! I wanted to post this earlier today but I'm sick and now it's the very END of Valentines Day but it's the thought that counts, right? Here are a nice handful of ships for Tim, Jason, and Bruce. Enjoy!

The Fic Fairy Friday Masterpost

Tim Ships

(TimKon) under the small fire of winter stars by merils

Summary:

In winter, Metropolis gets an average of nine hours of sunlight daily. In the aftermath of a fight with Metallo, Kon is so exhausted he forgets about date night. Tim doesn't seem particularly upset about it, though. OR: "Why Doting On Your Solar-Powered Boyfriend Who Needs To Photosynthesize More Is A Totally Acceptable Date Night Activity": a treatise by Tim Drake.

(TimKon) all the quiet nights you bear by merils

Summary:

Kon has a rough day. Tim is determined to take care of him. After all, he didn't memorize all the variations of Kon's curl routine for nothing, now, did he?

Momo's Notes: This two fics by merils are an indulgence I couldn't resist including. I have a huge weak spot for lovers just taking care of each other on a hard day and they are adorable.

(TimKon) midnight sun by merils

Summary: Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut? Yeah, it's not even a contest.

Momo's Notes: Yep! Another one by merils! I couldn't help myself! Tim is a certified badass who's absolutely terrifying and all of the bats are the most dangerous mofos in the room on any hero team but they aren't invincible. Sometimes they get in over the heads or just get unlucky. So having a bat in trouble and it making one of the Supers go absolutely feral? Swoonworthy!

(TimKon) Nicknames by MieczyslawS

Summary:

He scrubbed at his face, letting the soft wool pull him out of his brain funk, he sighed and mentally prepared himself to stare at the stalagmites until Bart and Superboy woke up. “Rob?” Tim spun around to see Superboy standing in the doorway, “ya alright?” he mumbled, blinking sluggishly. Tim, Kon and their nicknames over the years.

Momo's Notes: I'm a comics nerd so seeing little snapshots of Tim and Kon's relationship over the years from early Young Justice onward as they slowly grow closer? Love it!

(TimKon) daylight by dreamrecurrentdreams

Summary:

Seeing Tim again was confirmation of how much he’d liked hearing his name in Tim’s mouth, the way Tim’s pretty, pink lips shape around Kon, how he imbues it with so much emotion each time. Kon’s heard him say it every which way. At the start, when things were rocky, it was Superboy laced with frustration, ground under Tim’s gritted teeth, seconds from snapping because he had Tim at his wits’ end. Then, over time, it became Conner , falling out of Tim’s mouth naturally, seamless like their teamwork as they fought side by side through thick and thin. Kon, rounded with unshakable trust from the third Robin, a cynic trained to never let down his guard by Batman himself. Kon , impossibly soft with fondness from a boy with sharp eyes and pointy elbows. Kon wants Tim to keep calling his name, in other ways too. He wants.

Momo's Notes: Daylight feels like the perfect companion piece to Nicknames. And this one has a little spiciness at the end lol

(TimBerKon) a study by bernard dowd by cv_angels

Summary: Bernard opens the laptop, spinning it to face Tim with a flourish. It’s a powerpoint with a truly hideous red background, and Tim feels a moment of relief that Bernard isn’t breaking up with him before he registers the words on the slide.REASONS WHY TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE IS A SUPERHERO, A STUDY BY BERNARD DOWD. - Based on my post on tumblr: "I’m obsessed with the idea that Bernard like. Figures out that Tim is a superhero but guesses the wrong one. Like he compiles all this evidence and makes a PowerPoint and presents it to Tim and is like “Tim. I figured it out. You’re Impulse.”"

Momo's Notes: I had to add a TimBerKon fic on here! There's just something adorable about Kon lamenting he missed his chance for the love of his life and Bernard being quick to jump on the "Tim has two hands" bandwagon!

Jason Ships

(Jason Todd/Tonystark/Bucky Barnes) Do Every Stupid Thing by thepartyresponsible Summary:

Jason doesn’t mean for the Winter Soldier to be a present for Tony Stark. The youngest Stark isn’t supposed to be involved at all. The plan is simple: intervene before the Winter Soldier can murder Howard and Maria, tranq the Winter Soldier until he’s sufficiently incapacitated, and then drag him off for further study and let the Starks carry on with their fraught, bourgeoisie bullshit.

Momo's Notes: This is a crossover but it's so damn good I had to include it. Basically while seeking answers about his own resurrection, Jason ends up accidentally falling in love with a feisty young Tony Stark and the Winter fucking Soldier. The series follows their relationship as Jason accidentally adopts first them, then Coulson and a teenaged Clint Barton, and later a teenaged Natasha as well. The alternating camaraderie and friction between The Batfamily and Jason's SHIELD team/found family is interesting and the side pairing of Clint and Tim being awkward flirty teenagers at each other while Jason is disgusted by how sweet they are is adorable.

(JayRoy) If your real dad isn't present store bought is fine by Here_we_go

Summary:

“Daddy!” the voice screams and suddenly something collides with Jason’s legs. He looks down, it’s a child, black hair, brown eyes, tiny little overalls and a tiny little backpack. She’s clinging to his legs and she’s definitely talking to him. What the shit? “See?" She shouts pointing, "My daddy's here now and he's going to fuck you up!" Jason looks up and sees a grown man, now stopped in his tracks, clearly having been following the girl. Jason doesn’t know what the fuck is going on here, but he doesn’t like it one fucking bit. - Jason goes to Star City to rub out a gang that's been getting too cocky back in Gotham. Things don't quite go according to plan. For JayRoy week day 2: Fatherhood/Family Dinner

Momo's Notes: This is a short little meet cute without a lot of romance but I'm including it because all love starts somewhere and these three are such an adorable family unit. I plan to do a full rec list for them of some point. Lian is so clever and feisty she runs circles around everyone. I love her. That goon better thank his lucky stars that Jason won't kill in front of a kid because he 100% he had it coming.

Bruce Ships

(BatCat) We, So Much Older by LemonadeGarden

Summary:

Selina Kyle doesn't particularly like children. They're too noisy and stupid and they cry way too much. Bruce's kids though, they're something else altogether.

Momo's Notes: This one is really cute. Despite her protests about not being mother material, Selena only ever falls in love with Bruce in this fic because he's a good dad. Bruce's emotional walls and facades are good enough that, at first, she can only see the best parts of Bruce when he's with his kids. And as time goes on, they bring out the best in her for Bruce to marvel at, as well.

(SuperBat) On the Way Down by TimmyJaybird

Summary:

A series of uninvited guests finally get Clark to confront Bruce about all the feelings he's harbored for years.

Momo's Notes: This fic and the Selena one both show my weakness for Bruce's kids interfering in their dad's love life because he's too emotionally stunted to do it himself lol. Poor Clark is doomed to have spooky ninja kids show up to fix things when Bruce is too busy wallowing in his own man-pain to be a functional adult about his relationships. I also love the respectful way fandom treats Lois in SuperBat fics.

(SuperBat) Loading and Aspect Ratio by JUBE514

Summary:

So, it didn’t start out like this. Alfred would scoff at the statement, about how Bruce was trying to justify the whole situation to himself. It had started out as a simple design, black everything with black outlines and black hood. It got a little more intense as the world went on, got wind of his ghost on the streets, and became scared of The Bat . So Bruce got a little more creative with it, Alfred and him had a good laugh over the name, the scare, and Alfred had a vicious streak of humor that he had passed onto his ward- So now the suit had a visible bat-theme, an insignia to drape in the shadows and to paint across the streets of Gotham. It only took a year into the whole charade of heroism for Bruce to overhear a conversation between some goons- some low level thug hired by the Riddler this week- about nothing at all pertaining to what the hell the Riddler was doing in the sewers but instead: “ The Batman can fly, you know, I’ve seen his wings.” -- A world where nobody has wings, but people think they do, and that changes everything.

Momo's Notes: There are no words for how much I love this fic. I've re-read it dozens of times. In year one of being Batman he gets the idea from some goons' chatter to add wings to the Batsuit but it's only when Dick joins him that he makes them fully functional AS wings rather than an Bruce being unable to help himself from being as dramatic as possible while committing to the bit. The SuperBat content is slowburn and I freaking love how into Bruce Clark is. It's like Bruce is a walking, talking kink button specifically built for Clark and his pov has these delicious little inhuman things sprinkled in like he can smell the leather of the suits and the dye on their wings from across the room. There's also a lot of amazing Batfam stuff with good dad!Bruce and Dick, Jason, and Tim being thick as thieves. Just as a warning, though, there is one pet peeve about this fic and it's that the author misspells Lois' name as Louis every time and never fixed it. It's minor, tho, and Lois isn't on screen very often.

(SuperBat) Clark Kent and his Robins (and his favorite Bat) by Zell_Hatoule

Summary:

Due to shenanigans that Clark cannot possibly comprehend, let alone understand, Bruce has somehow talked him into being Batman for a week. And then it keeps happening. Or. How Clark Kent and Batman choose to protect what they love.

Momo's Notes: Bruce and Clark balance each other out beautifully in this. They keep each other honest, remind each other to keep being men under the symbols, master tag team parenting, and there's playfulness between them that you don't often get to see in a Bruce pairing. This is a softer universe than our regular canon since here Bruce and Clark don't allow the job to take over their lives. They're heroes but they're fathers and lovers first and that makes all the difference to each other, to the Robins, and to certain multi-verse refugees who deserved better than what they got in their own elseworld AU.

[theloveliestembrace]

Let it happen. | CL

Charles Leclerc/Reader

f1 masterlist

crossposted to ao3

Summary: The five times you meet Charles Leclerc. (The four times it doesn’t work out, the one time it might,)

Warnings: Non-explicit (but definitely inappropriate) teacher-student relationship

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Reincarnation au

W/C: 2.7k

-

A/N: What’s good people, I’m back again. This fic was very cinematic in my head (it still is), so I hope the writing captures that. Enjoy~

-

The first time you meet Charles Leclerc, he’s a barista at the coffeehouse down the road from your interning job. It’s a brief stint in the industry as you wait for a university acceptance letter, so you don’t expect to stay for long. 

He’s sweet, beaming at you from over the counter nearly everyday, remembering your order before you’ve even asked for his name. 

“Charles,” he says, sweetly accented, “my name is Charles Leclerc.” 

That day, the flowing script of your name on the takeaway cup is accompanied with a ‘have dinner with me?’ and a smiley face. You picture him, eyebrows scrunched and eyes squinted in concentration, trying to write neatly on the curved surface, and smile. 

As it turns out, Charles Leclerc is also waiting for a university acceptance letter, to a prestigious place in the United Kingdom for the study of Liberal Arts. He laughs awkwardly as he confesses, “My English is not so good yet, so I am worried they won’t find me so elegant.” 

You bat it off as nonsense, pulling him in for a chaste kiss, whispering sincerely against his lips. “They’ll be foolish not to accept you, cheri.”

He’s a sweet relief from the bustle of your internship, where you’re surrounded by presumptuous old men and women who expect their coffee orders and bottles of perrier on their desk before eight. Your work in the fashion industry is not as glamorous a job as made out in the novels. The twelve centimeter heels you’re forced into daily pinch at your toes, and all your coworkers are size-zero hyenas, vying for a position. It takes all your energy to keep up. 

Just the sight of him, though, waving cheerily in the morning as you run in for coffee pickup, hands in his pockets as he waits for you to get off work, the soft kisses when he walks you home. It’s easy to get lost in this, lost in him , fingers slotted between yours and a glass of wine shared between interlocked fingers.  It’s a romance out of a metropolitan chick flick, something about finding love in the middle of modern day bustle, finding quiet in the loud city. 

Everything falls apart when you get your acceptance letter. You haven’t talked about the inexorability of the end, not really. Sometimes Charles will bring it up half-heartedly, and so will you, but the inertia to dealing with your very real future is too great, and you both end up kissing on Charles’ sofa instead of facing the truth. 

It culminates in one big fight, your fingernails pressed to draw blood, Charles bracing himself against the wall to prevent himself from losing his temper. 

And it goes like every other fight in the movies, things like i was always going to go anyway and why don’t you just fucking go then, if you have nothing to stay for , and don’t hold me back just because you don’t have the certainty of getting into your course, Charles spinning around and saying i already got in, i’m hesitating because of you and the pressure in your chest growing so large it’s all you can do to stop your tears from running. 

The movies lied to you. This is the part where Charles apologises and you hug and make up and you stay for each other. That’s the love story. 

Instead, you say, go then, if staying for me burdens you so . And he goes, your apartment door slamming behind him. 

You spend days wallowing in self-pity, avoiding the coffeehouse, running through the motions, thinking about the last ten months of your life, and make the decision when your hand reaches for a coffee cup that isn’t there. 

You’ll stay, for Charles, because you love him, even if it isn’t like the movies. Because it isn’t like the movies, and you’ll love him even when the post-credits have rolled. 

It is this that makes you run to the coffeehouse the next morning, forgoing an umbrella in your haste, soaking your blouse straight through. You yank the door open, waiting for the head of curls at the counter to look up so you can beg for a chance. Just one.

Instead, the older lady who owns the place, looks up and smiles sadly at you. “I’m sorry, kid. He flew off to the UK yesterday, he said you never called.” 

And again, this doesn’t happen in the movies. The main character doesn’t step back out into the rain alone, heels soaked against the pavement, nor do they spend the next week waiting for the love of their life to call. 

You hit reply on the acceptance email, and change your number to a local one when you land in America. 

Somewhere on another continent, a call doesn’t get connected.

-

On the sixteenth of October, the people of Monaco are blessed with an announcement. A prince is born, the news reports. 

Charles, they named him. Charles Leclerc. 

In another ward down the hallway, another woman gives birth to a girl. The royal family hasn’t realised it yet, but down the hallway, is their future pr manager. 

Your first day on the job is fraught with just about every roadblock you could face. 

At four in the morning, one of your neighbour’s ridiculous scented candles tips over and sets enough things on fire to trip the fire alarm. Management ushers every single person in the vicinity out of the apartment building, where you stand shivering in your bathrobe. 

A few hours later, your coffee machine breaks down before your espresso even finishes running. 

Then, five minutes after you leave the apartment to catch your Uber, your heel breaks, so you’re forced to change your shoes and foot the late arrival fee on your car. 

When you finally find the meeting room fifteen minutes after you were supposed to reach, you're very much on the verge of tears. 

You’re met with a frowning Charles Leclerc, whose expression instantly evaporates into fondness when he recognises who’s at the door. He stands to bring you into a hug, as if you’d been friends since you were children. (You had been, of course, but you didn’t forget that he was a literal prince. Hugs are not commonplace.)

It’s an odd feeling, standing in front of the boy you’d known from birth, tasked with covering up his scandals and manufacturing relationships to keep him in the public eye.

It’s even odder to fall in love with him all over again, especially while you’re both poring over staged Instagram posts of him and Monaco’s richest bachelorettes. But Charles is so— good, easy to fall in love with, like those princes from storybooks. He laughs at exactly the right moments, cracks jokes that have you gasping for breath, charms you so thoroughly it’s almost embarrassing. 

It falls into place like poetry, too many moments without supervision, secret smiles over the table, quiet mornings in the palace, hidden in his room. You pick up the closeness of your youth near flawlessly. Falling in love has never been this easy. 

(It’ll never be this easy again.)

The end comes knocking in the form of his mother. Marriage. You almost choke on the enormity of it, caught in the noose of your own stupidity. Because that is your job, isn’t it? The prince is almost thirty, you are almost thirty, and this has always been the final point, of your job, of his scripted relationships. 

You don’t even fight, which is kind of the worst part. A choice is presented to Charles, and he chooses.

It’s a special kind of cruelty, to stay. To sit with the photographers and videographers and event crew and wedding planner, poring over fabrics and angles, as if it’s your fucking honour to plan what’s set to be the greatest union in Monaco for the next decade. 

You were wrong. The worst part is standing at the fringes, in your blue dress, watching the love of your life slide a ring onto another finger and speak the vows that were meant for youyouyou . The worst part is knowing the photos will be beautiful, because you planned them yourself. 

The worst part is knowing there is no universe where he chooses you.  

-

Your new French Literature professor is… really fucking hot. You’re not just saying this because he’s a decade older than you, or because he’s at least three decades younger than the guy who used to teach the class. He’s just, objectively of course, a really attractive man. 

The way his accent rolls off his tongue when he says “Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc.” definitely doesn’t help. In your periphery, you see the girl seated next to you furiously typing on her phone, with caps and exclamation marks and sweating emojis. You can’t even blame her. 

And it’s almost criminally obvious, the way he looks at you, eyes darting to your open polo, the way he lingers on the syllables of your name when he calls on you to answer in class. 

It’s subtle enough to not warrant any accusations of misconduct, but not subtle enough to avoid the envious stares of the girls (and boys) in your class. You’re unbothered, of course, given that he hasn’t actually made a move, but also the fact that he wears his wedding ring all the time.

And if you start wearing tighter shirts and shorter skirts to class, just to see his breath hitch when you uncross your legs just so, well that’s nobody’s business but your own. 

It’s almost cliche, the way your little game unfolds. You make sure to book the latest possible consultation slots with him, in a cute ensemble and flawless makeup, toting a copy of Les Miserables as if you’re actually struggling with the material. 

It’s fun, to rile him up, watch his tongue slide against his lower lip as he looks at you from across the desk. You don’t typically make a habit of seducing professors, especially the married ones, but you figure it’ll probably make a great story for your grandkids, or something. He holds out much longer than you thought, so much so that the illusion of needing aid in your best subject starts to grate on you. Still, the sight of his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves, or the line of his throat when he sips water during lectures keeps you hooked. 

When he finally bends you over his desk, you’re almost disappointed that the game has ended. The imprint of his wedding ring stays on your waist for days. Your friend tuts nervously when you return back late, murmurs something about morals and regretting your decisions and something else you tune out. 

Un brin de folie egaye la vie, right? Some madness will brighten your life. You continue ignoring her.

It’s only after months of your routine that you can form the all-important question, perched on his lap in his (locked) office, “Why cheat on your wife?” And the room is instantly suffused with silence. You expect him to tell you to get out or something of the sort, but instead he hums thoughtfully, shifting you further onto his thighs. 

He’s silent for a few seconds, running fingers through your hair, “Why do we do anything?” You snort at the obvious deflection, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. 

“On n’aime que ce qu’on possède pas tout entier. Proust says we love only what we do not have entirely.” You giggle a little at that, “you love me because you cannot have me?” He sighs against your cheek, “something like that, yes.”

In the end, it ends much cleaner than affairs like this tend to. You graduate top of the class, watch Charles and his beautiful wife at the ceremony, and laugh a little meanly at how oblivious her smile is. How he watches you, still, as you give the valedictorian speech, the smirk on his face as you thank your professors with false fervour. 

And then, one last time for the road, in the handicap bathroom where the bustle of the hall isn’t quite muted, breaths mingling hot in the stale air. A kiss, almost chaste, and you leave. 

Your grandkids howl with laughter at the story, nearly seventy years down the road. You smile, think about green eyes and rolled up sleeves. Another life, maybe. 

-

You’re still not used to the wag lifestyle. It’s one thing to be recognised in Monaco, another to be Il Predestinato’s girlfriend. It’s almost obscene, the red that greets you down every hallway, the way you bite your tongue and watch the team fuck him over every weekend. The way the crowds chant his name; Charles, they scream, Charles Leclerc. 

It’s not like you haven’t earned a place in the paddock. You’ve done the work, the pr activities, the carefully curated soft launches, the jet lag, the helmet kisses and the careful, careful styling. You’ll always be silent and pretty, always smiling and skinny and happy for him, existing to prove something. 

The point is, it isn’t that you don’t love Charles anymore. It isn’t that he’s neglectful and distant (he is), or that you’re unhappy with the constant scrutiny and ever changing time zones (you are). You can swallow these things, breathe deep and let it settle. 

Mangia questa minestra o saltar questa finestra; eat the soup or jump out of the window. Accept things for what they are, don’t hurt over things that cannot be changed. 

And it really does feel like nothing will ever change, watching the man you love turn into a beating husk, consumed with his want. A championship, a victory, draped in enough red to drown you both, a hundred years of history. Nothing will change, you will always be the girlfriend, the girl in-the-pictures. You can feel the shadow of Charles’ name as heavily as he feels Ferrari’s. That will never change.    

The championship is a hollow victory, when it comes. You and Charles have devolved across the year into a state of a perpetual tense silence, intercut only with the curl of his fingers around your waist when the cameras come flashing, and drawn out, passive aggressive conversations.

You begin to fly out less and less, blame it on the job you pretend to hate for Charles’ sake. Slowly, you learn to be on your own, find your way around loneliness, spaces within yourself previously occupied with your boyfriend. You toss about the idea of him cheating on you while you miss his races, and find the thought less impossible and less painful each time. 

By the time you see him again in Abu Dhabi, the Monacan flag wrapped around his shoulders, fingers pointed to the sky, you only feel affection for the man you would’ve given everything up for a year ago. The knowledge squeezes painfully in your chest. 

You reach for him in the cooldown room, wince at how unfamiliar his hands are to you now, look him in the eyes, “It’s been over for a long time, hasn’t it, cheri?” Tears rise unbidden within you when he nods, eyes wet. You clasp his hands tighter, relish the feeling of his fingers against yours one more time, “I want you to remember the best parts of us,” you sniffle lightly, attempt a smile, “not the end. I want you to remember that I am always proud of you.”

The room is quiet. He leans against your shoulder, for a moment you are both twenty-one again, guileless. The enormity of what you are losing has settled in your bones. 

The soup is unassuming on the table. You choose the free fall from the window. 

-

The new doctor is cute, in a puppyish sort of way. Charles watches the way you interact with all your new coworkers, smiling and shaking hands, the way you laugh at a joke Max just made. 

You come up in front of him, and falter, tilting your head like a startled animal. “Have we met?” The deja vu hits him so hard his head spins, shaking his head at your question anyway. 

He kisses your outstretched hand, soft under his lips, revels briefly in your furious blushing. His mother likes to tell him; doctors only date other doctors. He intends to test the theory.

“My name is Charles,” he says, “Charles Leclerc.”

[malum-forev]

Oooh can I get some fake-dating?? Either fratboy or mafia Bucky? Like they come to her rescue and pretend she's with them, saving her from some unfortunate situation!

Hi hiii this is my first time writing Mafia Bucky! Let me know what you think!

 You hated the term man’s game. Absolutely loathed it. Men with their pea sized brains thinking they’re above people of the opposite sex, when in reality the only thing floating around their heads are the words dick, tits, ass. On an infinite loop. 

When you went into the field of law, you thought with hard work and perseverance you would crash the glass ceiling. Paving the road for women like yourself wanting to make it. What you didn’t realize is that what is supposed to be glass, turns out to be concrete. A miles thick concrete ceiling, completely impenetrable. 

You smoothed the fabric of your pencil skirt and impatiently tapped your foot on the floor. The wooden chair outside the DA’s office was becoming an annoying reminder of your future, bolted down outside the door. It felt like you’d always be outside the door.

The frosted glass door opened revealing laughter coming from the inside. Your boss’ booming fake laugh made your skin crawl.

“You better work on that swing by Friday, Kent.” Your senile old boss said. It should be illegal to have fossils like him still on the job, making decisions while they still think women can’t vote. “I’ll leave you with my assistant, she’ll get all the details about the Moranes case.”

“Paralegal.” You corrected even though you knew it would go in one ear and out the other. 

The district attorney, a man older than your father, raked your body. From your pointed heels to your appropriately buttoned silk blouse. “Where have you been hiding this one?”

He all but drooled at the sight of you, a disgusting trait men thought was a compliment. 

“I keep her holed up at the office, but I’ll let you have her if you send the case over to us.” Your boss “joked” but once he saw the stern look on your face he held his hands up. “I’m just foolin’ around. Can’t make a joke anymore without getting a slap on the wrist from HR.”

“I know a few things about that.” The DA laughed, pointing at his older secretary. “How’d you think I got stuck with this one?”

The interaction made your skin boil, there were actual men who thought women’s only purpose in life was to get them hard. And you, sadly, had to put up with it on a daily basis. 

Your boss soon left, hoping you would comply with anything the DA told you to do. Anything to get the job done, was his mentality. 

“How about we move this conversation somewhere more comfortable?” The DA’s sleazy smile sent a shiver through your spine.

You looked around the almost abandoned hallway. “I just need to take some notes on the file so, here is fine.”

The district attorney was quickly becoming annoyed. “I wasn’t asking, actually.”

You opened your mouth to try and keep him calm but you felt a hand travel through your lower back and set itself on your hip. You looked down to find a tattooed hand with gold and silver rings adorning the fingers. His knuckles were shades of pink, purple, and blue, sporting a couple of barely healed gashes. If someone were to ask you who you thought this person was, you’d never in a thousand years guessed the correct answer.

“She wasn’t asking either, Kent.” A deep rough voice appeared.

You looked up to find the one and only James Bucky Barnes, head of one of the most prolific and notorious mafia families in New York. 

“B-Barnes.” The DA stuttered. 

“I’m sure you can find a way to make my girlfriend’s life easier.” Bucky stared the man down, his dark blue eyes burning holes through his body. 

“Girlfriend?” He asked, scared. 

“Girlfriend.” Bucky barked. 

The DA gulped. “I’ll have my assistant send her office the files.”

“I’d appreciate if you drop them by yourself.” Bucky lip twitched upwards. “As a personal favor to me and the ladies down at the Spin Top.”

The district attorney furiously nodded, his eyes widening at the words spoken. Bucky was dangling incriminating information like it was no big deal.

Bucky pulled you closer to his side, his hand never leaving your hip. A gentle but firm grip. He waved his gloved hand in a shooing motion. “You can leave now Kent.”

The district attorney tripped over his feet and quickly closed his office door behind him, locking it. 

With a chuckle, Bucky released you. He took a cigarette from his suit’s breast pocket and lit it up.

“He thinks a door can protect him.” Bucky scoffed. “Pathetic.”

“You’re not allowed to smoke in here.” You said, your voice strong.

Bucky bit his bottom lip to contain a smile, you were pure fire.

He looked around the almost vacant office, any person who was there had already turned around. Some were even facing the wall, anything to not make eye contact with the mob boss. “I don’t see anyone telling me to put it out, princess.”

“I’m not some sort of damsel in distress, just so you know.” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

Bucky’s eyes never left yours, he cocked his head to the side. “This could work, you and me-“

You laughed. “You and me? There is no you and me, it doesn’t exist.”

Bucky walked towards you until your back was flush against the wall, he placed his forearm over your head, trapping you underneath him. His intoxicating smell filled your senses, woody, smokey, citrus. A combination that wouldn’t work on anyone but him. 

“By the looks of it, you need someone next to you so they take you seriously.” His words were slow and controlled, completely opposite to your body language. Your chest heaved, making the space between the buttons over your chest expand. Anyone else would have looked down but Bucky, he kept his eyes on your face. “I can be that for you. One outing with me and you’ll have every judge, every lawyer, everyone at the palm of your hand.”

“What’s in it for you?” You whispered, your throat suddenly became dry. 

For the first time, he let his eyes travel downwards to your lips. A calloused finger ran from your collarbone to your jaw. “I need someone sweet and innocent, just like you, to help me take over everything. You see, every family needs a head. And there is no head without a neck. But no one seemed to interest me, that is, until I laid my eyes on you.” 

“It would have to be for show, everything would be fake.” You whispered, closing your eyes for a moment to bask the sensation of Bucky hand on your neck. 

Bucky chuckled. “I’ll put on the greatest show, I’ll even have you believing my every word.” 

Pleaaaseee be sure to comment, like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Remember, one comment = one kiss on my forehead! &lt;3

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour

[emma23]

Waiting for something special:

————————————————————————

The small coffee shop you found yourself in wasn’t anything special—just one of those dingy little places tucked away in the corner of the street where no one ever really went. You had been coming here for weeks now, sitting in the same booth by the window, watching life move on without you.

And then there was Cecil Denis.

You weren’t exactly sure how it happened, but somehow, the eccentric man with the too-bright shirts and the cigarette always dangling from his lips had wormed his way into your daily routine. You’d met him by chance, or maybe he’d orchestrated it—it was hard to tell with him. Everything Cecil did seemed intentional, like he knew how every little interaction would play out before it even happened.

Today, you found yourself sitting across from him again, sipping on your drink while he droned on about something you couldn’t quite follow. His hands were animated, his voice lively, but your mind was somewhere else.

“Y/N? You listening to me, doll?” Cecil’s smooth voice cut through your haze, drawing you back to the present. He tilted his head, eyeing you with that same smug, knowing expression he always had.

“Sorry, what?” you blinked, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Cecil leaned back in his chair, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a tray. “I was saying, you seem distracted. Something on your mind?”

You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to share what had been bothering you for weeks. Cecil was sharp, too sharp, and he had this way of making you feel like you were being put under a microscope.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, staring down at your cup.

Cecil hummed, clearly not buying your deflection. “Nothing, huh? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like something.”

You sighed, fidgeting with your spoon. “It’s stupid.”

“Oh, those are my favorite kinds of things to talk about,” Cecil grinned, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. “Come on, doll, spill.”

You bit your lip, still debating whether or not to say it. But Cecil wasn’t the kind of guy you could keep things from for long. Besides, what was the harm in telling him? He probably wouldn’t care, right?

Taking a deep breath, you finally confessed. “I’ve never been kissed.”

Cecil raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?”

You nodded, your face heating up even more. “It’s pathetic, I know. I’m in my twenties and I’ve never even kissed anyone. Like, who does that?”

Cecil’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes softened slightly. “No, it’s really not pathetic,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle for once.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I guess I was just waiting for someone special to come along.”

Cecil’s gaze sharpened, and you could feel the shift in the air between you. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Has someone?”

Your breath hitched, and you found yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Maybe,” you muttered, barely above a whisper.

Cecil chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Think you, huh?” His fingers drummed lazily on the table. “So, what do you want me to do about it, doll?”

You glanced up at him, feeling your heart race in your chest. “Will you?”

Cecil tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “If I kiss you here, right now, you won’t be kissing any other men, Y/N. It'll only ever be me.”

Your pulse quickened, your mind racing as you processed his words. He wasn’t joking—there was an intensity in his gaze that made it clear he meant every word. This wasn’t just some casual kiss for him; this was a claim.

But wasn’t that what you wanted? Someone special? Someone who made you feel like you were the only one who mattered?

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Okay.”

Cecil’s smirk widened, and he stood up, moving around the table to slide in next to you. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of cigarette smoke, creating a dizzying combination that made your head spin.

His hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him. For a moment, he just stared at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he was making sure you were ready for this. Then, without another word, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.

The world around you seemed to fade away as Cecil’s lips moved against yours. It wasn’t rough or hurried—no, it was careful, almost reverent, like he was savoring every second. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, spreading through your entire body. This was it—the kiss you’d been waiting for, the one that was supposed to change everything. And it was perfect.

When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your ears. Cecil didn’t say anything for a moment, just studying your face with a satisfied grin.

“Well, how was that for your first kiss, doll?”

You laughed, still trying to catch your breath. “Not bad.”

Cecil raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Not bad? Come on, I think I deserve a little more credit than that.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. “Fine. It was great. Happy?”

He chuckled, leaning back against the booth. “I’ll take it.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “Told you, though. No more kissing other men.”

You smirked, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I think I can live with that.

[libidomechanica]

It is all red muscle, humming in

But I detest all fiction even     in song, should love you I love with my friends had tried his     daily council upon ways and meal, robert Burns: whiskin     beard about a liquid

bed: the woods sloped down with the     remain, if there was of Castile, his dam from Aragon:     then for cast-off dresses. He was like this patience further     claim, because—such was

his who was young women, ripe and     red, with great world spin for ever there to want our own death,     rock-solid themes, old and deep as the sea and sky, the fire     his recent rags they still

worse sample, Catullus, scholar,     and love her loving and dear the word by his swimming eyes.     Without the action we experience, perhaps as outline     of their dead black despair?

But with my foe: I told my     wrath, my wrath, my wrath did end. If all the love she bore? But     who, alas! I looked at the world with the best of love. Words     you might sleep in the weeping

through and thrown into the gray     barbaric carvings quaint— strange convulsive splash, a solitary     Pride’s oppressed in mounds of candles; and the Hellespont,     as once twas mine, ’ he

whispering in me and my Dearie;     for dear to me, whom you’d call rigmarole. They gazed upon     the most faire, now more than what it hath been sae shy; for     laik o’ gear ye lightly

me, but, trowth, I care not brave. In     this vile age of charms of maid, wife, a sullen summer has     o’er-brimm’d their company. It is all red muscle, humming     in a low tone, but for

a common-place book, had a wife     is nae sae trig, she dights her grunzie wi’ a hushion; her walie     nieves like a screen from Providence or me? Are they     only add them also

now began to show him, anacreon’s     morals are a still with costly bales; heard the foaming     flood; thrall, or at large, alive wherein that rich carcanet;     or those who left an only

daughter; my mother! Drug of     silence, still the fault was mine, ’ he whispered. Which struggled through     all European climes, the Bores and Bored.—Don Juan at his     zenith, sweating gold, once,

in some savage woman, who threaten’d,—     again blew a gale, and as I have none, t is not     then that will happen where never flinch when something in five     hundred places where sleepers

pass, and most Rabbis Jewish     to walk slowly along the Des Plaines River And I saw     a crowd of Hungarians under the trusty maid: she     loiter’d, and head, and then

as a tear, without a trace     unworthy either play like the Thirty-nine, ’ which the same,     Katinka, and Dudu; in short to save one or two additional,     i’m not to Lethe, neither

lover—and that fresh from Milan,     which she wears the gown that festering holiday. To     the cutter, and lovely tree, nor knowing winds, or on the     whole of life to tell. And

so she agreed. And makes men     miseries miseries of Jacob Behmen with her veins chill’d,     by day scorch’d, thus one by one, than their own good this was Don     Juan. I said that Juan wander’d

my whole summer, but he saved     himself, because her mistress, and the faculties, platonic,     universe! There is the usual method, but cherish’d     more than I love you,

for the lightning; she, in sooth, and     rare mix’d Gothic, such a letter, too, she may compete in     mellow, as what he had been cast looks went everywhere. Stars,     the town became a bride!

[whiskeynwriting]

Eyes On Me

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

◆

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 

Flirting, pining, size difference, mentions and descriptions of injury, mentions of battle, dirty talk, praise, dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex

◆

Summary: Ghost gets a life-threatening injury, and it’s your job to make sure he returns to full-health. 

◆

A/N: I rarely do summaries on one-shots, but since I’m introducing a character I figured I would (: I loooove this character, and I’m really hoping to write more one-shots with her and Ghost in the future!

Part Two: Lucky

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

Working on them was easy, they took everything you gave them like champs. Splints, stitches, cleanings, anything they had, you took care of. They’d bite their tongues, ball up their fists if they had to, but for the most part, that was it. Vargas wouldn’t whine, but Gaz would. Price was nearly silent and in all honesty, Soap whimpered like a baby. But Ghost, he didn’t ever make a sound. 

It wasn’t always like this, you weren’t always 141’s go-to medic. Before, you were here for everyone. Whoever needed you, that’s who you tended to. You got so good at it that at one point, you’d been promoted to a rescue mission position. Daily helicopter rides became your usual. Freezing temperatures and smoke-filled air met your exterior shell on a weekly basis. You’ve even been dropped into open fields full of bullets and bloody cries. The training you received was minimal, but enough for you to take it and run. You had talent, that talent growing into expertise. You knew how to defend yourself, your reflexes were good. You could shoot a gun and if need be, hold your own. That’s what got you to 141. 

They impressed you, they still do. The team worked like a well oiled machine. And when you first saw them, you immediately questioned him. 

“What’s with the mask?” You’d asked him, straight to his face. He tilted his head. “Is it still Halloween?” 

The boys laughed, but Ghost didn’t. His fingers curled, and he sucked in a breath. You were brand new; not a good way to start off with him. Hey, it’s not your fault he took it the wrong way. You love Halloween. Sometimes you even find the scary things sexy. 

Eventually you learned the real reasoning behind his mask, behind the skeleton head that hid his face. Honestly, you were intrigued by it, his anonymity. But sometimes, it got in the way. 

“Blood type?” You’d asked, going through each soldier’s file as you became acquainted, some months ago now. 

“Unknown.” Your colleague responded. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“We have little to no information on Ghost’s background.” 

“What if he starts to bleed out? Or needs a blood transfusion?” 

“Guess I’ll die.” Came his gruff response. 

Spinning around in your small and circular wheeled chair, you saw his bulky body taking up the majority on the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest while leaning against the frame. 

Why is she so interested in me? He’d wondered, suspicious of you. What he should’ve been asking himself is, why am I so interested in her? 

He’d seen you work on his team, you were efficient and clean. He’d even go so far as to call you fearless. And surprisingly, he finds himself liking that. You were a bit of a brat, but at the heart of your teasing jokes, there was a sense of playful familiarity. And overall, having you around was good for his men. He didn’t know how vital you were to his team, though, until you had to be flown in to rescue him. 

Pressing into his wound, you didn’t even feel him flinch. The gauze was soaked in the red stain seeping from the cut in his skin, and you were running out of supplies - you were running out of time. And apparently, your frantic nature showed. 

“Hey,” You direct your sternest voice at him. “Ghost - Simon, eyes on me.” 

He’s spiraling; body feeling light and his consciousness leaving you quickly. His eyelids are fluttering. 

“You worried about me, love?” He was out of it, losing blood and flirting while in his hazy state. It was the first time he’d ever been nice to you. 

But really, he wasn’t just being nice because his body was going into shock and losing his grip on reality. He was talking to you this way because he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to after this. 

Giggling, you shook your head, happy that he was now responding to you. “Nah, big boy like you?” Patting his shoulder, you said, “You’ll be just fine.”

Even if he didn’t show it, Simon was worried, too. 

“But I bet you wish you’d told me your blood type now.” 

He wasn’t happy. Simon didn’t ever seem that happy, but right now, he definitely wasn’t happy. All he’s ever known is a military lifestyle, training and being out in the field. Having his team’s back, contributing to the work effort, that’s what he was best at. And now, he can’t do any of that. At least, not for the next couple weeks. 

“I’m not a child.”

“Never said you were.” Rolling your eyes, you openly sass him. “It’s just a blanket.” 

It was the first day of him being in your mini infirmary, just the two took up the room. Each of the boys came in to give him a pat on the shoulder, make sure he was doing alright. But in all honesty, Ghost hated this kind of attention. Being coddled and cared for. He could take care of himself. 

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” He grunts, looking away almost childishly. 

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go get some pizza.” 

At this, he perks up a bit, groaning. “Can you bring me back a box?” Mumbling, he’s still looking away.

Before you leave, you turn back around with a grin. “Sure thing, big boy.” 

Once you’re finally gone, he sighs, his emotions contradicting each other inside. Frustration doesn’t even come close to what he’s feeling. He never gets injured in the field. Is he losing his touch? Surely not, he’s still in his glory years. For him, it’s embarrassing to be seen like this, not just in front of the boys but in front of you, though he’d never admit it. You make him feel nervous inside, like he has to heighten the man he already knows himself to be. He has to be tougher around you; he can’t show any weakness. The only problem with that, was that he did have a weakness, a major one. That gaping hole in his chest. 

“Alright,” Coming back with two boxes of pizza, you set them on your desk, moving them to the side. “Let’s clean you up.” 

“I can do it myself.” 

“Okay, look.” Wiping your hands off of your pants, you turn to face him. “This is my job. Would you get angry at Soap for clearing a room before you? Or Price for conducting an infiltration route?” 

This makes him stop, closing his mouth for a moment, although you can’t see it. 

“I’m part of your team, you have to acknowledge that. Your job is to kill bad guys, and my job,” Taking a few steps toward him, you point to his chest. “Is to fix the mess the bad guys make.” 

Ghost shifts his shoulders, looking away from you for just a second. And after a moment, his eyes return to yours, and he nods. 

Reaching down, he cracks the knuckles on his hands, and it takes everything in you not to break his eye contact. Every movement of his muscles makes you sweat, the ripples of them more than a beautiful sight. He’s impressive. All he has on right now are a pair of shorts and a bandage wrapped around his upper chest. Other than that, he’s bare. You can see the muscles in his abdomen, the impressive form and firmness of them, the bulges of his biceps and the chorded muscle in his forearms. His legs are thick, huge, sturdy enough to hold his entire weight along with two other men, if need be. Again, impressive.

Satisfied with his nonverbal response, you turn to grab the essentials. Pulling over a small, wheeled tray, you begin your work. Ghost sits up off the back of the bed for you, allowing you to remove the bandages around his chest. He maneuvers himself to sit cross-legged while you do it, his head tilted down to watch you work.

Truthfully, Simon thought you were attractive the moment he saw you. And then you made fun of him. But when he balled up his fists, when he inhaled that sharp breath as a reaction, it wasn’t because he was mad at you. It was because right then and there, he was attracted to you. 

“You ever been stabbed like this before?” 

He doesn’t answer for a minute, not really wanting to admit it. But then he shakes his head. “No.” 

This tells you something, it tells you that you’re tending to the worst injury he’s ever had. And you’re shocked by his answer, you would’ve assumed he’s had worse. But a stab to the chest that just barely misses the heart? Yeah, that’s pretty bad. 

He doesn’t budge when you apply the antiseptic, allowing you to work in peace. Once you’ve cleaned the wound, he’s surprised to feel your hands. His eyes widen while keeping his gaze on you, watching as your fingertips explore him. They move across his chest, just barely gliding over his skin. 

“Doesn’t look too bad.” You murmur to him, eyes trained on his chest. 

Ghost is undeniably the fittest out of the entire team. He’s huge, and not just in height. You haven’t seen his naked torso since the day he was stabbed, and when you were tending to him then, you definitely weren’t thinking about how attracted you were to him. You were working to save his life. But now, you have time to let your thoughts wander, to let yourself experience what he feels like. 

Trailing down a bit, your fingers graze over his abdominal muscles, your tongue briefly sliding across your lower lip. His muscles are firm, smooth, and warm. Your touch makes him feel uncertain; he doesn’t know what you’re doing, but it’s making him nervous. Well, not nervous, necessarily but… excited. 

“What happened to you being nice to me, huh?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. And the smile you offer is pretty. “Thought you’d be my best friend after I saved your life.”

This makes him laugh, a small grunt coming out toward the end from his injury. You’re right, he should be nicer to you considering the circumstance. He should also be nicer to you because, well… he fancies you. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally acknowledges, albeit quietly. “I know I’ve been acting… standoffish.” 

“It’s okay,” Shrugging, you reach for the clean bandages. “I get it, you’re embarrassed.” 

Sighing, he looks down at your nimble hands again. “Yeah.” 

“Let’s get your blood pressure before you eat.” You then tell him, changing the topic while retrieving your tools. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” Glancing up at him, you grin. “I promise.” 

Right now, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone. You’re nice company. 

Attaching the cuff over his bicep is a feat in and of itself. His muscles stretch the fabric, but it ends up securing around him adequately. You then take your stethoscope, applying it to his inner elbow while you begin pumping the meter. Glancing up at the machine, you focus on the readings, and absentmindedly, your hand wanders. While continuing to record his data, your free hand slides down his arm and into his palm as you steady yourself beside him. 

Widening those pretty brown eyes, he releases a breath, now looking further down. He’s surprised, but honestly, it feels nice. Makes him relax. And while staring at your smaller hand now resting in his, he inhales deeply, curling his fingers slightly around your hand. This makes your head snap to the side, having not fully realized what you’d done. But Ghost doesn’t move when you look at him; he does stare at you though, right into your eyes. And while keeping your gaze, he lightly squeezes your hand. He really is sorry. He’s grateful.

The days following the first are actually pretty nice. With your main focus on Ghost, the rest of the crew seem to leave you alone for the time being. 

“You’ve been a big help lately.”

“What?” Comes that thick, English accent. “I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass.”

“Yeah, but it keeps them,” Pointing out into the training yard, you finish, “Off my ass.” 

Turning, he stretches, watching his team run around and lift weights on the field behind him, only a window separating them. 

“It’s like I told you, sweetheart.” His head then moves, returning his gaze to you. “You’re the finest thing they’ve seen in months.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You tease. “What about you?” 

Since he’s been nicer, you’ve been spending more time at his side. You didn’t need to sleep here, he was fine by himself, but after that first night, you did. You couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about him all alone in the infirmary while you lay cozied up in bed made you sad. You didn’t want him to get lonely. So, you slept on the small loveseat in the corner, the one the boys usually sit on to smoke. And your sleepovers were starting to make you close, that sweet little nickname being evidence of that.

“What about me?” Under his mask, his face heats up. He knows what you’re asking.  

“Am I the finest thing you’ve seen in months?”

Under that skull-painted cover, he grins, giving you a single nod. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, Ghost,” Walking over to him, you lean into his bicep, clutching it. “I knew you’d eventually fall in love with me.”

Rolling his eyes, he grumbles with an amused tone, “A pretty big pain in my ass.”

After he says this, you laugh, pushing yourself off of him. 

“Bones?” Your comm link buzzes slightly, a bit of static coming through. 

Pressing your button, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s up?” 

“Searg. is calling a meeting.”

“Time?”

“Eighteen hundred.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” 

“Bones?”

Once your conversation has ended, another one promptly begins. Lifting your head to face him, you raise a brow. “Yeah?” 

Ghost tilts his head to the side slightly, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Never heard anyone call you that.”

“Yeah, well you’re not on my med. team.” 

“Well, you’re on my team, aren’t you?”

Giving him a thoughtful pout, you eventually answer with, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“Then we should know your cover.” His voice is stern and gritty, deep and rumbling. It’s like how he talks out in the field. 

“Well, now you do.” Giving him a quick wink, you turn away, intent on doing some paperwork before your meeting. 

“What’s the meaning of it?” When you don’t immediately answer, he calls for you. “Bones?”

Something about him using your code name makes you grin. 

“I’m known for breaking them.” Turning, you face him once again, a smile plastered across your smooth lips. 

“Known for breaking bones?” He clarifies, sounding skeptical. 

“Yep.”

“Huh,” He scoffs, “That’s not exactly something to boast about, is it?” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be if they were mine.” 

Oh, now he gets it. 

“I did a lot more than sew up wounds before I came here.” With a heavy sigh, you reminisce on your time in the field. But you made a choice to be here. “I used to break them, now I heal them.” 

He never knew. And honestly, this new information only makes him more attracted to you. A badass soldier with a gentle touch? Sounds like his kind of woman. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You emphasize, “I’ve got some paperwork to do.” 

“Fine.” He returns flatly, and you giggle. He really sounds upset about that abrupt ending. 

“Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Won’t be a problem.” He grunts, shimmying to lay back down. “I’ll just sleep.” 

Throughout your hours spent together, you’ve discovered that he’s quite the fan of naps. He takes one every day around three in the afternoon, and you wonder if he’s finally enjoying his rest. It doesn’t help that you often have to leave him while he’s sleeping, though. You’ve liked being by his side lately, it’s comforting. His presence has begun to grow quite kind, and even in the quiet times, it’s nice. But you still have meetings and other duties to tend to. Which include the one you’d been called to. 

Ghost’s gentle snore is what prompts you to look up, your eyes searching for his own. But they’re closed, one arm propped behind his head with his other hand laying over his stomach. He’s fully laying on the bed, the blanket only covering up to his waist. He’s still shirtless, and right now, he looks practically naked. Aside from the mask. Eyes trailing up his form, you take in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the light-colored hairs scattering his pectorals, and even further down, leading from his belly button to the hem of his pants. It makes you sigh, he looks peaceful. You’ve never seen him so relaxed. 

You don’t like the thought of him waking up to a room empty of you, so to make up for it, you head to the cafeteria. As quietly as you can, you return with a large pizza, one with his favorite toppings on it. Steak, mushrooms, onions, and two kinds of cheese, specifically provolone and American - strange and lengthy details, but ones you memorized, nonetheless. And after you set the box down, taking in another look of him, you turn to leave. 

Eventually, the smell wakes him up. How could it not? It’s his absolute favorite thing to eat. But he has to be careful, he needs to keep himself in shape over these couple of weeks, or he’ll need more training than originally planned. Sighing, he props himself up, the realization now setting in. 

She did this for me. 

He knows it was you and not the boys because of the little note on top of the box. 

Ghost, 

I’m at a meeting until six tonight, I’m sorry I probably won’t be around when you wake up. Here’s some pizza to make up for it. Hopefully you still love me &lt;3

Bones

He rolls his eyes at that last part, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. You can be so sarcastic sometimes. But he likes it. You make him laugh. 

While you’re gone, Simon thinks about the way you take care of him. You’re so gentle with him when changing his bandages and cleaning his wound. Your smaller hands touch him so softly that it makes him feel things for you. He wonders, is he just interested in you because you’re the only woman around? Or is he interested in you because you’re funny? Because you’re nice? It’s because you’re such a tender caretaker and you remind him of all the love he never got in life. 

Looking back at the note, he reads it again. It sounds like you’d regretted leaving him, even for something as important as a medical staff meeting. Maybe you’ve been enjoying his company, too. 

When night rolls around, you snuggle up on the couch, pulling the blanket you’d grabbed from your cot over your shoulders. Ghost just stares at you, one leg laying flat on his bed with the other up, the sole of his foot planted on the mattress. 

“How the hell do you fit on that?”

Shrugging, you answer with, “It’s easy to fit in places when you’re not an enormous tank.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You should,” Smirking, you can just barely see his eyes in the darkness. Those nearly black orbs find your own, and it makes your chest tighten. “I like the way you’re built.” 

He chuckles, amused. “Yeah?” And then he reaches for a pack of cigarettes next to his bed, lifting the edge of his mask. “Why’s that, love?” That word makes the skin on your face burn. 

You get a small flash of his face when he lights the end of his cig with a match, and you notice something you’ve never seen before. 

“What’s that scar from?” It just comes out on its own. He knows you’re talking about the one on his jaw. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” He points out, taking a puff. And for some reason, you find that so hot. 

“I’ll answer it if you answer mine.” 

Sometimes, you aggravate him. Sighing, he speaks through the darkness, telling you, “Fine.” 

A sly grin crosses your face on the other side of the room, and you wonder if he can see it. He can. 

“I like men with muscles.” And he likes that answer. “Makes me feel like they can take care of me.” 

He exhales calmly into the nighttime air between the two of you, pressing his lips to the cigarette and then inhaling once again. Ghost knows he could take care of you. 

And then he thinks about his own response, settling with, “It came from a knife.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “You gotta tell me more than that.” 

Flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a tray, he lays back a little on the bed. “It was a mission in the Middle East. Bloody heat was killing me, I had to lift my mask up.” 

Oh, wow. Honestly, you were just kidding. You never thought he’d actually tell you anything more. But you take this chance and run with it, listening intently so you don’t miss a single piece of his story. 

“We were ambushed,” He continues, shaking his head. “Price never saw it coming.”

Truly, you can’t even imagine. Sure, you had your time in the field, but it was nothing compared to what he’s gone through. 

“We took them out, but not before one of them got to me with a knife. Sliced up my jaw.” Ghost exhales a puff of smoke, watching it billow into the air. Then he gently shakes his head. “Didn’t let him get any further ‘n that.” 

By the end of the story, his voice has grown flat. Maybe he doesn’t like thinking about his scars. Maybe it’s why he keeps the mask on. 

“Could I… could I see?”

“My scar?” Comes his instant response. “What for?” 

“I dunno,” Shrugging in the dimly lit light, you glance down at the floor. A timid gesture that he again sees. 

After a moment of silence, he figures, what the hell? Having you be close to his face didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Besides, he likes getting a good look at you. Finishing off his cigarette and rubbing the butt of it down into the tray beside him, he says, “Why not?” 

Looking up, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I don't have to. I don’t even know why I asked.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Come over here, doll.” 

Almost giddily, you do, shoving your blanket to the side and popping up onto your feet. He chuckles deeply upon seeing your reaction, watching you scamper over to him. 

“You’re excited about this, huh?”

Shrugging, you grin, standing right next to his bed. “Maybe.”

You don’t give a single shit about his scar. You want to see him. Being close to Ghost gives you a good feeling. 

Leaning over, you turn on your desk lamp, illuminating this corner of the room. And when you come back to him, you’re met with the incredible sight of his eyes. They’re dark brown in shade, but in the dim light, they're a dazzling pool of honey. But what really catches your eye is the lower half of his face. His mask is still pulled up, revealing his mouth, chin, and jaw. 

“Can I touch?” You then ask, keeping your voice quiet. 

He eyes you up and down while your gaze is fixated on his mouth. His lips curl, and he nods. “Sure.” 

Lifting your hands, they fall to either side of his face. When you make contact with him, he closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, accepting your touch. He can’t remember the last time he let someone do this. 

“Hm…” You don’t mean to, but you hum, fingers trailing along his jawline and chin. He has stubble here, just barely. It seems like when he’s crept away to the showers at night, he’s shaved. 

Ghost’s eyes trail across your face, feeling your breath on his skin. You’re closer than you ever have been before, and it makes the muscles in his chest tighten, makes his pulse quicken. Licking his lower lip, he whispers, “How’s that feel?” 

“Good.” You respond, nodding, your eyes not once leaving his mouth. “I like it.”

“Why’d you want to feel it?” He then wonders aloud, and he wishes you would look up at him. He wants to look into your sweet eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough scars in your lifetime?” 

“I don’t really care about scars.”

What the hell?

Scrunching his brow, he then asks, “Then why the hell did you want to see mine?”

Now, you do look up into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you work up the nerve to say what’s floating through your mind. “Because it’s on you.”  

Immediately, he swallows. His gaze falls to your mouth for the first time since you’ve been this close, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your now slightly parted lips. And all at once, he sits up a bit straighter, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.

As if you’re expecting it, you melt into him, letting him press you to his body. The fingertips on his jaw slide along his cheeks as you move to fully hold his face in your hands, Ghost’s lips easily meeting your own. One large arm slides around your back, hand securing to your waist as he pulls you further into him. 

Heartbeat pounding in your veins, you gasp quietly against him, molding your mouth to his as you return his enthusiasm. Your hands hold onto him tightly, sliding down to the back of his neck. But then he stops, releasing a rough sigh and opening his eyes to look at you. 

“Come here,” He whispers hurriedly, his other hand reaching out and tugging on you. 

“Ghost, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” His lips are moving over your jaw, his hands still pulling on you. 

“You’re healing.” 

Scoffing, he leans over the side of the bed, hands securing themselves to your lower back and upper thigh. He then hauls you forward, leaning down so he can hoist you up onto his lap.

“Oh!” 

“I go back into the field next week.” He grunts out, now looking up at you. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

“Ghost, I -”

“You know my name?” He asks, his rough, baritone voice demanding your attention. 

And suddenly, you feel extremely fucking small. Your legs slide forward and down, straddling him. Quietly, you squeak out, “Yes.” 

“Say it.” 

Leaning forward, you embrace the excitement of being on top of him. Your hands return to hold his face, and he lets you. Bringing yourself in close, you look into his eyes. 

“Simon.” 

“That’s right.” Comes his breathy exhale, leaning in to close the small gap between the two of you. 

And then Simon’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you further into him. His other lands on your hip, fingers curling around your flesh. He smells like cigarettes and cologne, tastes like mint and tobacco. And you overtly, eagerly, wholeheartedly, welcome him. 

“Closer to me,” Simon grumbles, the hand on your hip curling around your lower back. He pulls you until you’re flush against his chest, your breasts pushing up against his clean bandages. 

“Simon,” 

He groans into your mouth when you use his name, repeatedly moving his lips over your own. Your legs press tightly to the outsides of his thighs, holding him close to your body. And when he feels your hips shift against him, when he hears your soft, delicate moan, he decides to slide his tongue into your mouth. He licks inside, rubbing the wet muscle over your own. Moaning wantonly, it echoes into his throat, the hand on your head sliding down to hold your jaw open. The way he moves against your mouth is almost overwhelming, full of passion and lust and a particular sense of need. 

“You wanna take this off for me?” His accent is making you melt. “Can you do that for me, love?” 

Tugging impatiently on your shirt, those frosty eyes look into your own with a look of utter desperation. But also control. Ghost was always in control. 

Nodding, you reach down, finding the edges of your longsleeve shirt and slipping it up and over your head. 

“Oh…” He moans - Ghost fucking moans. His head immediately dips down to the luscious space between your breasts, mouth finding your skin. 

“Oh,” It comes as a complete surprise, him surging down to kiss you here. “Simon…”

Fuck, you’ve wanted to do this since you met him. You both have. 

His mouth drags along the curves of your chest, and you’re surprised when they’re followed by tender kisses. And then his hands drop, groping your ass. 

“I want you.” He growls against your breasts, nipping at the soft slopes of them. “What do you want, love?” 

“I want you, Simon.” Nodding quickly, your hands slide back up to his face. In your hurried state you accidentally move the fabric of his mask just a bit, and his hands come flying up to your forearms as soon as it happens. 

“Don’t take it off.” It’s a firm boundary, a stern warning. His head lifts, too, eyes staring menacingly into you. 

“I wouldn’t, I won’t.” He looks at you almost skeptically. “I respect your privacy.” 

When he doesn’t budge, you wiggle on top of him. “Please. Simon, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” 

Slowly, his hands leave your forearms, loosening their grasp. He’s deciding to trust you. 

One of those meaty hands falls to your chest, still holding your gaze while he cups you. The other rises to your neck, fingers curling around the back to pull you in again. This time, though, he doesn’t return to your lips. This time, he goes to your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you let him, feeling Simon’s teeth scrape along your skin. He’s feeling every inch of you that he can, hands falling to your ass when he feels you move over him. With a firm grasp, he urges you forward and back, grinding your covered crotch over his own. And while he’s busy exploring you, you take this opportunity to explore him. 

Delicately, your fingertips slide down his face, down the chorded muscles along his neck, landing on his sculpted shoulders and then moving to his biceps. When you squeeze the thick meat of his arms, he groans, smirking mischievously against you. With your nails scraping lightly over his taut skin, they quickly find his back, gently scratching him. His muscles are flexing, damn near all of them. He’s so worked up with you like this on top of him. And he’s still moving you, shoving your hips over his crotch and manhandling you in the softest way he knows how. He’s strong, but he’s gentle with you. 

The length of him is palpable beneath his thin shorts, settling right into your covered folds. And it makes you moan, makes your breaths pick up and your center pulse. The air is thick with arousal, the room lit dimly in the soft, yellow hue of your small lamp. His breaths are hot, fanning across your face in humid and heavy wafts. But then he stops, taking a breath. And for some reason, your sass decides to fill this brief, empty space. 

“So,” Sighing, you’re also working to catch your breath. “Does this mean you think I’m pretty?” 

He chuckles, that beautiful smile making itself known. “Does this mean you like my muscles?”

“I love your muscles.” Wiggling even closer to him, you grin, sucking in a tight and excited breath. Your one hand then slides down his chest, his abs, curling around to hold his hip, your thumb just barely brushing his pelvis. 

“Yeah? Even when you’re sewing ‘em up?” He asks, that deliciously rich accent making you flutter inside. 

“You can’t do that again.” Shaking your head, your hands move to hold his face. It’s a tender act. “You can’t scare us like that again.” 

That night, you swear you started to see the light fade out of his eyes, and that, well… that was a first for you. You saved Simon’s life. 

“You care about me, eh?” He replies in the cockiest voice.

“Your team cares about you.” Eyes flickering down to the bandages on his chest, you then say, “And yeah, maybe I do, too.” 

Simon’s body flexes beneath you, hips rutting up into your own. And now, it’s his turn to hold your face in his hands. He lifts your jaw, making you look at him. 

“Hey, don’t worry about that now.” 

“Are you okay?” Eyes darting back up to his, they’re filled with concern from the memories of that day. “With me sitting like this on you?” 

He gives you a cocky grin. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big boy, remember?” 

This makes you smirk, one hand finding its way to his pelvis with much more confidence than before. “Is that right?” 

“That’s right.” He nods, keeping that gorgeous grin. “Think you wanna take it?”

Breathing out a small laugh, you give your head a single shake. “I never knew you wanted to fuck me so bad.” 

“You never noticed the things I’ve said to you?”

“No, I noticed. I just thought… maybe it was harmless flirting.” 

At this, his head tilts, eyes boring into your kind orbs. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me harmless in my entire life.” 

“Yeah, you’re one scary motherfucker.” Leaning in to kiss him, he accepts it with a heated moan. “And I find that sexy as hell.” 

“Well, you said you like fixing bones.” He’s feeling desperate for you at this point; it’s like you won’t stop teasing him “Hop on this one, then.”

“Oh my god, you really are like every other fucking guy.” But you’re already reaching for the bottom of your sports bra, slipping it off your torso in one go. 

“God damn.” Large hands instantly return to your breasts, cupping and weighing your tits in his palms. His chest dips dramatically from releasing such a heavy breath, leaning in to kiss one of your delicate peaks. It’s firm and wet, the repeated press of his lips. And it wouldn’t be so overwhelming if he wasn’t practically making out with your tits.

Seeing your naked form for the first time sets his own alight. He always knew you were a sexy little thing, and now, he’s got first hand proof. Your curves look delicious, and if he weren’t in a tiny medical bed, he’d lay you down to lick them. 

“You want me?” He doesn’t expect this sort of response, his surprise going tenfold when he feels you reach down between your bodies. 

“Oh,” He releases a tight breath, feeling you run a finger over his erection. 

Staring into your eyes, he gives you an almost predatory gaze. “You know I do.”

Easily, you slide your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your delicate sex to him, though he can only barely see it. And then you’re reaching down, fingers curling over the band of his shorts to pull him out. When you do, he releases a sound you’ve never heard from him before, his jaw hanging low. He’s long and firm, crimson at the head and already leaking. The pulsations rocking through his cock are, at this point, an almost painful sensation; and when you look down, you grin. Letting the length of him rest on his lower abdomen, you move yourself so you can slide your glistening lips over him.

Simon hisses at the contact, strong hands cementing themselves to your hips. But he doesn’t stop you from moving. If anything, he only encourages you to. 

“You get off on this?” He suddenly asks, the feeling of your slippery center sliding against him making his head spin and his insides tense. “Fucking your superior?”

“Baby,” You laugh, shaking your head while continuing to move over him. “I’m on the med. team, you’re not my superior.” Taking a breath, you reach out, grabbing his jaw and lowering your voice to speak. “But you did get one thing right. I do want to fuck you.” 

Before he can say anything, you’re lifting yourself, his throbbing tip prodding at your entrance. You hold his gaze, an unexpected moan drifting from your lips when you finally begin to feel him. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, fingers digging into your sides and urging you down. “Come on, precious. You can take it.” 

Sliding down only a few mere inches, you wince. Holding onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into his skin, scratching harshly at the firm muscles all along him. He’s bigger than you’d imagined him to be. His girth is wider than you’ve ever had, and when you reach down to feel him you quickly discover he also isn’t lacking in length. 

His military voice then comes out, that stern, commanding tone. “Focus - hey, eyes on me.” Irises snapping up to his, you do as you’re told. “That’s a good girl.” Jesus Christ, you didn’t expect a single ounce of praise to come from him.

Simon’s dominant hand then slides down, the pad of his thumb finding the reddened nub at the peak of your sex. Your hips jolt when he presses the thick digit against you, but with his free hand on your back, he brings you in. He applies pressure, prompting you to lean on him, his mouth seeking out your nipples once again. Slipping his tongue out and over your skin, it forces you to whine, feeling your hips rock involuntarily against him. With the stimulation coming from his thumb and tongue, you find yourself relaxing, resting on the weight of him. 

“Feels good, yeah?” 

Your fingers find the back of his head, your own dropping back. “Yes…” 

It’s overwhelming and sexy as all fucking hell. Simon can see the marks he’s left on your neck, shoulder and chest, and he grins, knowing they’ll be there in the morning even if he won’t be able to see them. He doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb, keeping the same amount of pressure as he swirls little circles over your sensitive clit. His mouth is sucking on you, too, his tongue running over your nipples in wet and passionate swipes. And altogether, it works like a charm, lubing you up enough for him to slide entirely inside. 

“Simon.” 

“You’ve got it, yeah… there we go…” The only hand that moves is the one that was touching your clit, fingers now attaching themselves to your hip once you’re entirely seated on him. 

“Fuck me,” You’re clinging to his shoulders, both arms wrapping around his neck. He’s removed himself from your tits, resting his face in the slope of your shoulder, just beside your throat. 

He’s searing hot and filling you completely, his tip seated deep in your guts as you pulse around him violently. And Simon’s aware of his size, so he waits for you to make the first move. And he snuggles into you while he does, resting in this brief lull. 

Feeling another person surrounding his body like this brings out a sensation from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in genuine years, decades, even. He feels like he can relax in your embrace, like he can let go with you. 

“Oh, god.” Head dropping back, you shift slightly, beginning to move. 

“Yes,” He encourages you, reaching up to hold your neck. “That’s it.” And then he pulls, bringing you down to him. Your lips meet in a small clash, tongues colliding as soon as you make contact. 

This entire event awakens something inside of you. It’s like he’s consuming you, taking over your body and every part of your mind. And you’ve felt like this for weeks, months; you’ve ached for him. At night you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, and during the day, you’ve dreamt about him. It was so hard to be in his presence, knowing you couldn’t have him, that he probably didn’t even want you in the first place. But he does; he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

Simon sways his body with you, leaning back against the head of the bed. He uses this slight change in position as leverage to shove his hips up into you, giving you small and shallow thrusts. But he lets you do most of the work, grinning while admiring the way in which you find your pace. 

“You’re a tight thing, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, eyes lowering to stare at the space where you’re repeatedly connecting. And then they furrow, mouth dropping open when he finally witnesses you lifting and lowering your hips. “And look how well you’re taking me…” 

“You’re… so fucking big.” Lowering your head, you then offer a half smirk, shaking your head at him. “Guess you really do have reason to be cocky, huh?” 

“Damn right, and I’m glad you know it.” 

“Jesus - fuck!” The first word is said through a scoff, the second through a high yelp. 

“You feel like makin’ fun of me again?” Simon then challenges, having lifted his feet and planted them directly on the edge of the bed. He uses this leverage to punch himself up into you, huffing out a sharp breath when he feels you fall onto his chest.

“Fuck, baby - I’m sorry.” You immediately lift yourself up, looking down at his bandages. “Are you alright?”

The fact that you’ve so easily been able to call him baby makes Simon smile, his teeth even showing for the first time that you’ve ever seen.

“You need to stop asking me that.” He says in that deeply, gritty tone. And then he shoves you forward again, knees high in the air as he lets you rest over his chest. 

Your arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as he begins to shove himself up into you. Sucking in a deep breath, he grunts out beside your face, his arms wrapping around your naked torso. He’s starting to feel sweaty, sticky, his skin warm and glistening. And at this point he’s bouncing you on his cock, your ass slapping down onto his pelvis with every move. He let you have your fun; now, he’s fucking you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You’re trying desperately to keep up to move yourself back against him, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s punching the breath from your lungs, one hand sliding up your back to hold your head. 

He lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you alright?”

“S-Shut up, Ghost.” Comes your stuttered response, now gasping from how deep he’s hitting.

“Uh-uh,” He tuts, “Say my name, sweetheart. Sounds so good comin’ outta that pretty little mouth.”

This makes you laugh, a small hiccup of a sound due to his intense movements beneath you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, wanna hear you say it when we fuck.” 

“Oh, so this is going to happen again?” You tease, feeling his groans vibrate through his chest. Jesus, he’s so sturdy. 

Leaning forward, he grabs a fistful of your ass, growling into your ear, “I damn sure want it to.” 

You take advantage of his closeness, turning your head to capture his lips. “You’re so fucking deep.” 

“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He whispers in return against your lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

At this point, he’s panting beneath you, sliding down a little further on the bed. You move with him, still holding onto his firm body with a wild desperation. And he keeps your lips on him, shoving his tongue inside your mouth while keeping his brutal pace.

If you were dripping before it’s nothing compared to now. You’re leaking down his shaft, the creaminess of your arousal coating him entirely. And he can feel it; it’s making his eyes roll back into his head. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, squeezin’ around me like that.” 

One of your hands lowers, moving down to hold onto his bicep, and then his forearm. Turning your head to the side, you smile, ignoring his comment while you breathe out lightly, “I love your tattoos, baby.”

“You just love praisin’ me, don’t you?” In two seconds, that tattooed forearm rises, hand grabbing your face. “Bring those pretty eyes back to me.” And when you look into those endlessly deep eyes of his, he grits out sternly, “Eyes. On. Me.” 

“Simon,” It’s a small whine, one uttered when you feel him strike gold inside. “Please make me cum.” Your head drops to his shoulder, and what he does neck surprises you. He kisses your fucking cheek.

“I can do that for you.” 

As if things couldn’t become more intense, he takes it up a notch, ramming into you and forcing your face into the crook of his neck. His hand on the back of your head holds you there, and when you bite into his neck, he groans into the nighttime air. 

“Yesss, baby, don’t stop. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” He’s so big beneath you, his muscles bulging against your naked chest. And he revels in the feeling of your soft tits pressing against him, your beautiful body bouncing as it gets fucked by him. 

“Fuck me,” Comes his gasped out curse, muttering, “Such a good pussy.” 

“Fu-uck,” 

He’s pounding against that delicate spot that’s making you go dumb, your arms and thighs beginning to shake around him.

“G-Ghost, I’m…” 

“Say my name, say it again.” His voice is deep and thick, stuttering a bit. “One more time for me.” His thighs are flexing beneath your ass, one arm wrapped around your back and the other gripping the flesh on your hip.

It’s overwhelming, the feeling shoving its way through your body, coursing through your veins. The excitement of it all is something you haven’t felt in too long of a time, if ever before. Swallowing, you gather yourself enough to do as he says, once again, uttering his name. 

Immediately after, he’s cumming, hips breaking their pace and length throbbing inside you. His forceful shoves against your g-spot make you crumble above him, onto him, your body shaking. The way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he can do anything, makes him think you feel safe with him. And you do. The world could be crumbling and still, you’d cling to him, knowing he’d hold you in his arms. 

Quivering limbs press against him, your body going a bit numb from the intensity of it all. Your center pulses around his girth, squeezing him tightly while you wash him in your arousal. You can feel his, too, the milky ropes shooting into you, and you revel in the fact that your body has made his feel this good. He’s breathing harshly beside you, pectorals flexing against your naked chest. You’ve never heard him groan so forcefully, not even when he’s out working. And that makes you smile, knowing you bring those noises out of him. A blissful smile crosses your face, body rolling in waves as you experience your own high above him. 

“Fuck me,” His accent is thick, coating the shell of your ear. He’s petting at your hair, body beginning to slump down on the mattress beneath him. “You okay there, princess?”

You’re quiet, still trying desperately to find your breath. Swallowing, you nod, turning your head to kiss his throat, breathing heavily against him. And while his body relaxes, he holds yours above him, urging you to do the same. 

“Maybe I should get hurt a little more often,” He looks over, pointer finger curling under your chin, gently lifting you to look at him. “If it means seein’ you.” 

Part Two

[saltyluminaryvoid]

His Saving Grace

Chapter Two

1114 Klaus x future daughter reader

I recommend re-reading chapter one as I made some major changes. I know I promised this update two years ago, but university got in my way and when I came back to these old stories a lot of re-vamping took place.

Masterlist

The year is 2030, Y/N the daughter of Niklaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall. A powerful young witch which threatens the survival of Malivore. In retaliation Malivore unleashes a time fay to return to the past and kill Klaus to ensure his survival.Y/N is Hope’s younger twin, now that no one remembers who she is the job is left to y/n to stop Malivore.

                   “You still live in the silences between my thoughts.”

Y/N resisted the urge to sign impatiently as the crowds around her soared and rejoiced as the pastor preached. The loud voices screaming into her sensitive ears, highly agitating her short temperament. Y/N hated church, she was by no means an atheist but she was a witch and a woman living in a time where she could be hanged for simply defying authority. So with that in mind Y/N had begrudgingly entertained Alaric, to keep up the role as godly saints whom attended church every Sunday. 

For the past weeks tempers were high within the household, Alaric and Davina could only watch as she battled silently with her demons.  Putting up a saintly farce everyday in the village as boys swarmed for her hand in marriage and village girls scowled jealousy. As someone who was influenced by the strong women in her life, to always be true to ones self and to never shape shift into society's ideal, the pretense (and the besotted men) were killing her. Alaric was getting far too accustomed in his daily ritual of turning away marriage proposals from haughty mothers and corpse like men. 

Pulling her away from her thoughts was the strain of her far too tightly, bonded corset. Thank the old gods she was from a thousand years into the future. Now Y/N realized why her Aunt Rebekah mostly if not always bit the heads off every man she met. If I had to suffer almost seven hundred years in such a tightly wounded corset which restricted most movements I would have done the same Y/N thought impatiently. As the preacher vivaciously expelled the devil with the crowd, Y/N reaching a breaking point silently casting a notice me not charm and made her way to the exit, silently huffing as she straightened her ankle length, grey dress which carried a turtleneck-like neckline. She wore a pristine, white shirt underneath whose sleeves puffed loosely around her arms but knotted tightly below her elbows. On top of her grey dress carried a loose brown corset of sorts held together by a length of ribbon criss-crossed. This corset did not converge in the middle, rather it showcased about five inches of the grey vertical striped pattern upon the bust and midriff as to emphasise her figure. Stitched upon her grey skirt was a length of brown which stopped at least six inches above her grey ankle length skirt, but it was gauged elegantly upon her right thigh allowing an elegant stylish slide flow. After all she was her Aunt’s niece and secretly she hoped it pissed off the conservatives in the crowd. Oh yeah! that speech about playing the part was not translating so well into her everyday life. 

Finally reaching a safe distance, out of sight from zealous fanatics just upon the edge of the forest, she dropped the spell. Huffing a sigh of relief all Y/N now needed was a pack of cigarettes or some weed to make 1114 much more bearable. 

“That’s quite the trick you pulled back there, little strega.” Now that snapped Y/N from her inner thoughts. Spinning around in a quite unlady like fashion, for this period at least, more than ready to confront the intruder. Only to be left dumbfounded to the stranger standing before her. But with a practiced ease which came from years of sneaking out and around  the Salvatore Boarding School, Y/N layered on her oh so innocent Mikaelson charm. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?, I have to say I’m not aware of that particular term!” Lies, her mind rang out. Play cool, Y/N thought, talk him up just to get close enough and wipe his memory. Now that particular trick was her favourite. The stranger smirked coyly at her, “I think you know exactly what I mean, liten heks.” Y/N paced herself now, he knew old norse. Whomever this stranger was, he was clearly quite wealthy at that judging by his smooth velvet and silks in comparison to her simple cotton dress. Now she had to thread carefully, wealth clearly meant high influence and political sway in a community as small as this one. And that meant possible exposure, this man was a threat, Y/N deemed carefully.

“Now, now liten heks, the stranger went on, I mean yours truly none harm.” My heart is void of ill contempt and malevolence for one with such great power and beauty. As he spoke he drew closer towards her, his face now completely unobstructed from the mist of the early morning. Y/N exhaled softly, the stranger a man’s whose face see had seen everyday in her New Orleans home, a demon who hunted her from birth, Finn Mikaelson. But if he was standing before her, that meant the brotherhood had not yet daggered the Mikaelsons. This younger and less vengeful ghost was still a threat to her but quite possibly an accomplice. The fae had yet to reveal itself it was either supplementing its diet with animals or news of children going missing had been covered up. 

The fae according to the texts preferred a warm tropical climate, for if their wings were exposed to cold they would simply fall apart. A fae’s lifeline was linked to her wings, losing them could kill the fae but iron to the heart worked just as well. All in all, the upcoming winter was now days away and left no time for procrastination which meant Y/N directly disobeying Alaric to seek the creature out herself. A venture she had no luck in, the fae who boasted of powerful magics was able to cleverly keep herself hidden. 

“Not one for much words I see.” Finn Mikaelson was now standing toe to toe with her. That’s quite alright, he continue as he played with a stray curl. Y/n flinched away slightly as he stared into her eyes, carefully examining the details of her face. “If I didn’t know better, I could have mistaken you for my Freya.” Finn whispered as he continued to tug upon her curl. It was low and if not for her keen hearing it would have been swept to the winds.  Y/N kept her head high and passive, thinking to herself how much of a leering creep her elder uncle was becoming. Quite unlike all accounts of the uptight, wet blanket her uncle Kol always described. As his hand came up to caress her face, Y/N instinctively jumped back, conjuring fire within her palm which she kept safely tucked behind her. Finn only smiled sheepishly, “I seemed to have forgotten my manners, in the presence of a young lady.” I deeply apologise, I do not know what came over me, my lady.

Y/n relaxed slightly and utterly confused as the man introduced himself. As he began to speak on what not, Y/N could only stare at his face in a daze. It would take her some time to sort herself out, only to realize he had disappeared only to leave behind a simple envelope in her hand. Y/N thought back to the genuinely baffled daze Finn fell into as she made her way into town. To onlookers her face was almost dreamy, as if paying much more attention to the envelope she twirled in her hands rather than her path. But rather Y/N was silently contemplating the latent abilities of the fae and just how she could manipulate Finn into helping her.The fae a creature in the future known for its deceitful ways but that though made her wonder just how much accurate Alaric’s information truly was. It was done before, the supernatural popularized lies like silver bullets and garlic to throw suspicion off of them so what if the same was done with the fae? As Y/N ventured into the town’s market lost in her thoughts many eyes followed her, women and young girls gossiped of her weird behaviours and wayward thinking.

________________________________________________________________

Bloody hell, Y/N thought to herself. Now while the young witch prided herself on being a fashionista, dresses were her absolute nightmare, well behind her murderous grandparents and malivore of course. I do have my priorities in order, thank you very much.

Somehow Davina had managed to convince the stubbornest Mikaelson into another deathtrap these humans called corsets. Y/N huffed, begrudgingly following her “parents” out of their temporary home. While she was ecstatic to receive the dinner invite to the Mikaelson home hours prior from Finn which came in the form of the mysterious envelope he left behind, she still heavily detested that damn corset suffocating her. There was just no space to hide her knives!, What’s a girl in multiple skirts and a stuffy attire supposed to do to defend herself when all her knives were confiscated on this occasion. 

But nevertheless Y/N compiled it only to see her family again while also plotting to defy Alaric once again on his no knives at the dinner table rule. I mean, its not really a family reunion if someone didn’t have a devious plan in the works. 

________________________________________________________________

Servants scattered frantically to the sides, keeping their heads bowed as the feared Mikaelson hybrid descended the grand staircase stepping onto the foyer. Holding an impassive mask, Niklaus surveyed the immediate area ensuring the preparations to his liking. Stepping to the right of the grand foyer Niklaus strolled into the grand sitting room which doubled as a music room, the soft notes of the harp eased his twirling mind. 

Taking a seat on a velvet cushioned armchair, with hands clasped elbows resting on his knees and eyes closed Niklaus thought back to the hauntingly familiar pup no he corrected himself, child. Days had passed since their first encounter and thoughts of the child haunted him. In the strangest of ways he craved her presence, but not in a way a lover does. But this vastly unfamiliar pull deep inside him yearning and pushing his self control. But if Niklaus didn’t know any better he would have called it fatherly love and as unbelievably usurp that idea sounded in his head, he couldn’t help but let his mind linger on the possibility. Barr the facial similarities and attitudes that crossed with his, perhaps it was her life that resonated with him he knew all too well the struggles of an abused orphan. 

Just maybe when he meet her today, try not to give away how he always crept away at night to watch over her. By the old gods, what would Elijah think of his stalker like behaviour. If his enemies only knew of this attachment, if he only knew. Niklaus sat and wondered of the possibilities, so lost in his thoughts he nearly missed his guests arrival. 

__________________________________________________________________

Dinner surprisingly went smoothly, Klaus was utterly entertained by the ideas and thoughts of the young woman before him. Her guardian agitated him deeply with his distrustful glances and cold demeanor. 

Y/N on the other hand was on edge for an entirely different reason. As much as she wished to truly enjoy the rare company of her family, she could not help but be worried about the whereabouts of Finn. Given the  strange behaviour she witnessed earlier from him and his sudden disappearance she could not help but ponder the worst, especially given the current circumstances. It could be entirely possible Finn had aligned himself with the fae in order to rid himself of Klaus and the others. As far as she recalled, Finn had never been too particularly fond of the vampiric lifestyle and it is certainly within his motives to fix the balance of nature and forever end the vampire lines.

The rest of the night in the company of the Mikaelsons continued smoothly, with the exception of Kol getting a little too drunk and flirting with Davina. Y/N was able to enjoy the company of her lively Aunt. Soon came the peak of the full moon and the makeshift family slipped away to trap the fae. As Davina gathered the necessary ingredients for a binding ritual and Alaric his iron weapons, Y/N shared her suspicions of Finn and him possibly knowing her true identity. Both had agreed that Finn would be a potential suspect in aiding and plotting with the fae to get rid of the Vampire Sire line, him included. With caution in mind, the trio made their way towards the woods where Y/N last spoke to Finn. Since, Finn was most likely aligned with fae, the two would track him using Y/N’s blood, a plan which quickly came to a stop when the magic revealed the family together in their manor. 

Relief didn’t last as the winds picked up around the trio and both Y/N and Davina picked up the excited whispers of dead witches. The brotherhood so it seemed had finally succeeded in crafting the daggers it was only a matter of time before they used it. Huh, maybe it was her paranoia seeping in earlier and Finn was just too ashamed of his earlier behaviour to make an appearance at dinner.

@physically-a-cheesecake​ 

@goldencassy​ 

@sujusfs14499​ 

@alyssatjuhhh​

[harrysgoldenline]

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

—————————————————————————

Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!