#They were amazed to discover that when she said I hate you what she really meant was…

[harrysfolklore]

still a little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz don’t hate each other anymore, but she still calls him a little bitch. PART ONE word count: 9.1k + social media posts

folkie radio: HERE IT IS !!!! THE LONG AWAITED PART TWO OF LITTLE BITCH!!! i’m going to be completely honest with you i’m beyond terrified of posting this. little bitch was overwhelmingly liked by all of you and i’m scared this won’t live up to it 😭 but i really really hope you like it. i’m not a fan of doing part two’s of fics but this one deserves it <33 buckle up for a ride or angst, some tears and a lot of little bitch calling. LOVE YOU ALL

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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ynpiastri highlight of imola: LEO LECLERC

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

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username1 OMG LEO IS SO CUTE

username2 MISS THE SECOND PICTURE ???

username3 PIASTRI SIS HAS A BF?? OMG

alexandrasaintmleux My boy 😍😍

username4 what is carlos doing in the likes i thought they hated each other 😭

username5 HOW DOES OSCAR FEEL ABOUT HER BF I NEED TO KNOW

username6 not tagging the person in the second pic she’s such a piastri

landonorris You’re not slick at all my friend

↳ ynpiastri i literally never asked for your opinion

↳ username1 HEEELP

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If someone had told you a year ago that you would be making out with Carlos Sainz in his driver's room hours before the Monaco Grand Prix, you would've laughed in their faces and told them they were completely out of their mind.

Because why would you ever think of even breathing near the little bitch, right?

And yet, there you were. Your bodies pressed together as his lips explored your neck.

"Carlos," you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair, "we shouldn't... someone could come in..."

He lifted his head, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. "Do you want me to stop, hermosa?"

"No," you admitted, "I don't want you to stop."

A satisfied smile played on his lips before he pressed them against yours again. His hands caressed your hips, pulling you even closer.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered against your lips.

You couldn't help but smile. "The feeling's mutual, you little bitch."

He chuckled softly before speaking, "And to think that you hated me."

"I still do," you replied, but your tone lacked conviction. "It's just… I hate you a little less when you do that."

His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shiver.

"Oh yeah?" he murmured, his hot breath against your skin. "And this?"

You let out a small moan, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders. "Maybe I hate you even less now."

He laughed softly, his hands sliding under your t-shirt. "You definitely don't hate me."

Almost a month had passed since that night in Carlos' car, and things between you two were amazing. You hadn't put a label on what you were yet, but you felt happier than ever.

You found yourselves seeking each other out more and more. But it wasn't just about the physical attraction or the tension of your bickering anymore. You discovered a side of Carlos you'd never seen before – his warmth, his humor, his vulnerability.

And you finally let your guard down and let him see that part of you, too.

The sarcastic remarks and playful insults were still there, but now they were tinged with affection rather than malice. Your friends had started to notice the change in your dynamic, especially Lando, who couldn't quite hide his knowing smirk whenever he saw you two together.

However, you decided to play it cool, not letting your friends know that there was something more between you and Carlos. They might be able to tell by now, but you still didn't want to admit it to them.

Which lead to secret rendezvous in hidden corners of the paddock become frequent occurrences. Like right now.

"As much as I'm enjoying this," you said as his lips still lingered on your neck and his hands roamed underneath your shirt, "I should go, someone's probably coming to get you shortly."

Carlos let out a soft groan of but nodded, slowly pulling away from you.

"You're right," he admitted, his hands reluctantly leaving your skin. "I wish we could stay like this, though. "

"I know," you smiled, reaching up to smooth his tousled hair. "But we can't risk getting caught, especially not today."

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Tonight, then? After the race?"

"Assuming you don't crash into a wall, sure," you teased.

"Such faith in me," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll show you, hermosa. Watch me on that podium."

You were about to retort when a sharp knock on the door made you both freeze.

"Carlos? Five minutes until the briefing," came a voice from outside.

"Coming!" Carlos called back, "Looks like our time's up."

"I'll sneak out after you. Good luck out there, little bitch," you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Gracias, mi amor," he murmured, the endearment slipping out naturally.

You paused for a moment, surprised by the warm feeling that spread through your chest at his words. But there was no time to dwell on it. With a final kiss on your lips, he was out of the room.

Your heart was pounding as you tried to casually make your way out of Carlos' room. You were so focused on appearing nonchalant that you almost walked right into Charles.

"YN?" he said, his eyebrows raised in surprise and a knowing smirk slowly spreading across his face. "What are you doing here?"

You felt your cheeks flush as you scrambled for an explanation. "Oh, Charles! Hi! I was just… uh… coming to wish you good luck on the race."

"In Carlos' room?" his smirk widened.

Your heart sank. Of course he'd noticed where you'd come from. You tried to keep your voice steady as you replied, "No, no… I just got a bit turned around. All these corridors look the same, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Charles said, clearly not buying it for a second. "Well, thanks for the good luck wishes. Though I'm not sure how sincere they are if you're sneaking out of my teammate's room."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the knowing look in Charles' eyes made you realize it was pointless. He'd figured it out.

You were surprised Alex haven't told him already, anyway.

"Relax, YN. Your secret's safe with me," he said with a wink. "Though you might want to fix your hair before you see your brother. It's a bit… disheveled."

You groaned, quickly running your fingers through your hair as Charles walked away, still chuckling. You tried to make the flush on your cheeks go away as you reached McLaren hospitality.

Carlos Sainz was driving you crazy in the best possible way.

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ynpiastri LECLERCCCCCC FINALLY WON AND PERFECT PODIUM TYSM MONACO 😩😩😭

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lilyzneimer

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username1 I NEVER SAID ANYTHING BAD ABOUT THE MONACO GP

username2 her friendship with charles is so underrated love them

landonorris I wish my best friend celebrated my podiums like that

↳ ynpiastri i wish my best friend got more podiums to celebrate

↳ username1 HELPPP 😭

username3 UM HELLO??? posted sainz, TAGGED HIM, said it’s a perfect podium and she’s not coming for his neck for the touch with oscar on track that made the race re start ????? WHAT IS GOING ON

↳ username2 OH I SEE

charles_leclerc Thank you for coming to Ferrari just to wish me good luck and not anything else, that was definitely what made me win 😉

↳ ynpiastri stfu

↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂

↳ oscarpiastri I’m really confused right now

carlossainz55 ❤️

↳ username1 BITCH WTF

↳ username2 ENEMIES TO LOVERS ???

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The party at Jimmy'z was in full swing, the air electric with the excitement of Charles' Grand Prix victory. The club was packed with F1 drivers, team personnel, and celebrities, all riding the high of the race day adrenaline.

You stood near the bar, your fourth glass of champagne in hand, feeling pleasantly buzzed. The room spun slightly as you looked around, your gaze inevitably drawn to Carlos. He was across the room, laughing with Pierre and Charles, but his eyes kept finding you in the crowd.

Every time your eyes met, you felt a jolt of electricity. The memory of his touch from earlier in the day lingered on your skin, making you crave more. You watched as he excused himself from his conversation and made his way toward you, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace.

"Enjoying the party, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close.

You shivered at his proximity, the scent of his cologne making your head spin even more. "It's alright," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Could be better though."

Carlos's eyes darkened at your words. He glanced around quickly before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing your ear. "Meet me outside in five minutes."

Before you could respond, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. Your heart raced as you waited, trying not to watch the clock too obviously. When five minutes had passed, you made your way outside, your steps slightly unsteady.

The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy club. You spotted Carlos in one of the alleyways behind Jimmy'z. He turned as you approached, a smile spreading across his face.

"Remember the last time we were here?" he asked, pulling you close.

You giggled, the alcohol making you bold. "Yeah, when you kissed me unprovoked."

"Unprovoked?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, his hands settling on your waist. "I was being provoked by how insanely gorgeous you looked. Still do, by the way," he leaned even closer. "And if I recall correctly, you enjoyed it a lot."

"Maybe I did," you giggled, drunkenness clear in your every move. "Should we do it again?"

Without overthinking, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a bold, impulsive kiss. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then you felt Carlos smile against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

As the kiss intensified, you felt Carlos's hands slide from your waist to your lower back, pressing you even closer against him. The heat of his body contrasted with the cool night air, sending shivers down your spine. Your own hands moved up to tangle in his hair, earning a low groan from him that you felt more than heard.

Breaking apart for air, Carlos rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in quick pants. "I'm crazy about you, Piastri," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn't hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

"You freaking muppets! I knew it!"

You broke apart, startled, to see Lando standing there, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Lando!" you whined, burying your face in Carlos's chest. "Leave us alone!"

Carlos chuckled, his arms still around you. "How long have you known, cabron?"

"Please, you two are about as subtle as a neon sign," Lando smirked, crossing his arms. "Oh, this is too good. You two are so busted."

"Lando, please," Carlos started, but you cut him off.

"Go away, Lando!" you whined, clinging to Carlos. "We're busy."

Lando laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you lovebirds alone. But we're definitely talking about this later!"

As Lando walked away, you turned back to Carlos, wrapping your arms around his neck, suddenly feeling very tired and more than a little drunk. "Take me home?" you asked, your words slurring slightly.

"Of course, mi amor," Carlos nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll drive you to Oscar's."

"Nooo," you whined, clinging to him. "I want to stay with you tonight. Please?"

Carlos hesitated for a moment, clearly torn. "YN, you're pretty drunk. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

You nodded vigorously, then immediately regretted it as the world spun. "I'm sure. I just want to be with you. Please?"

"Alright, alright, you win. Let’s get you back to my place," he said gently, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

You beamed at him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, little bitch."

The night might have been a blur, but one thing was crystal clear—you were falling hard for Carlos Sainz, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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ynpiastri have you guys ever tried hangover pancakes ?

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username1 OMG???

username2 SHE DOES HAVE A BF

lilyzneimer 👀👀👀

username3 BITCH THATS CARLOS SAINZ

↳ username1 nah there’s no way, they hate each other

charles_leclerc I did before you did

↳ ynpiastri don’t be jealous charlie 😚

landonorris BUSTED BUSTED

↳ ynpiastri bro get over it

↳ landonorris never

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username4 people saying this is carlos sainz, do you guys not know their history or something

↳ username5 yeah but enemies to lovers is a real thing

oscarpiastri 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

↳ ynpiastri ily can you pick me up?

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You could practically hear your friend's and brother's laugh through the phone as you muted the conversation. Shaking your head, you grabbed your jacket and headed out to meet Carlos.

He was waiting for you outside, leaning against a lamppost with casual smile. The sight of him - dressed in jeans and a simple t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled by the breeze - made your heart skip a beat.

"There you are," he said, his face lighting up as you approached. "Ready to go?"

Without thinking twice about it, you wrapped your arms his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss, taking him by surprise. Carlos' eyes widened but he quickly melted into it, his arms wrapping around your waist. When you finally pulled away, he was looking at you with a mix of delight and wonder.

"Well," he said, a bit breathlessly, "that's quite a hello. What was that for?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the blush creeping up your cheeks. "Do I need a reason to kiss you?"

"No, hermosa," he said, pulling you closer. "You never need a reason. You're allowed to kiss me whenever you want."

With a playful glint in your eye. You pulled him in and kissed him again.

God you were down bad, it's embarrassing.

"Dios mio," he murmured as you pulled away, "I could get used to this."

You laughed, linking your arm with his as you started walking. "Don't get too comfortable, little bitch. I still have a reputation to maintain."

Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Of course, Piastri. Whatever you say."

As you strolled through the streets of Montreal, you found yourself initiating more little touches - a squeeze of his hand, a kiss on the cheek, leaning into him as you walked. Each time, you noticed how Carlos's face would light up, how he'd pull you a little closer.

It occurred to you that maybe he'd been holding back, worried about pushing you too far or too fast.

For the past month, you'd been letting your guard down, bit by bit. Carlos had somehow managed to sneak past your defenses with his charm and the warmth that had been hidden beneath all that banter. You'd always prided yourself on being independent, on not letting anyone get too close. But with Carlos, things felt different, at least now they did.

Still, there were moments when doubt crept in, when old insecurities bubbled to the surface. What if this was all just a fling for him? What if you were reading too much into the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to treasure every kiss and touch? What if you eventually went back to your bitterness towards each other?

You hadn't put a label on whatever this was between you, and the ambiguity sometimes left you feeling unsteady, as if you were walking on a tightrope without a safety net.

But bringing it up to him felt intimidating.

"Whats on your mind?" Carlos asked once he noticed that you went quiet and your eyes were wandering.

You considered bringing up the subject, but decided to ignore the thought for now.

"Nothing," you replied with a small smile, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking about how Lando is going to have our heads for not wanting to hang out with him."

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "Lando will survive. He can’t have us all to himself all the time."

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As the Spanish Grand Prix weekend approached, you found yourself in Barcelona, exploring the city with Carlos in a way you never imagined possible.

The man who once irritated you beyond belief was now showing you his childhood spots, sharing stories of his youth with a boyish enthusiasm that made your heart flutter.

When you told Oscar about your plans to head to Barcelona early with Carlos, you braced yourself for the teasing that was sure to follow.

Your brother didn't disappoint, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he launched into a series of jokes about you "fraternizing with the enemy" and how you'd "finally succumbed to Sainz's charms." But beneath the banter, you could see the genuine happiness in Oscar's eyes.

After the laughter died down, he pulled you into a hug and told you he was glad you'd found someone who made you happy, even if it was "that Spanish menace."

He was the best brother you could've asked for.

"And this," Carlos said, gesturing to a small, unassuming restaurant tucked away in a narrow street, "is where you'll find the best paella in all of Barcelona. Maybe even in all of Spain."

"That's a bold claim, Sainz," you raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You better not be overselling it."

"Would I ever lie to you, Piastri?"

"Yes, absolutely," you retorted, but there was no bite to your words.

As you sat down to eat, the aroma of saffron and seafood filled the air. Carlos watched expectantly as you took your first bite, and you couldn't help but close your eyes in delight at the flavors.

"Okay, I'll admit it," you said, opening your eyes to see his triumphant smile. "This might actually be the best paella I've ever had."

"I told you!" he exclaimed, looking far too pleased with himself. "Never doubt a Spaniard when it comes to paella."

"Alright, you win this round," you rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips.

As you continued to enjoy the meal, a comfortable silence settled between you and Carlos. It was in these quiet moments that you found yourself marveling at how far you'd come - from barely tolerating each other to... whatever this was now.

"You know, I've been thinking," Carlos broke the silence, his voice softer than usual, "We've talked a lot about my childhood here in Spain, but I realize I don't know much about your early years in Australia."

You looked up from your plate, a bit surprised by the sudden change in topic. "Oh, well, what do you want to know?"

Carlos leaned forward, his elbows on the table, genuine curiosity in his warm brown eyes. "Everything. What was it like growing up there? What did little YN enjoy back then?”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Carlos's question. Your mind immediately went to your childhood memories with Oscar, and you found yourself launching into a familiar narrative.

"Well, growing up in Australia was quite an adventure, especially with Oscar around," you began, a fond smile playing on your lips, “Oscar's always been obsessed with anything that has wheels. Even as a toddler, he'd zoom around the house with his toy cars, making engine noises..."

As you launched into the story of Oscar's journey from go-karts to Formula 1, you found yourself getting carried away with the memories. You talked about the early morning drives to races, the smell of petrol and rubber that became a constant in your life, the way your parents juggled work and Oscar's growing career.

"...and then there was this one time, Oscar was about 14, and he'd just won a major championship. The interviewer asked him who his biggest inspiration was, and do you know what he said?" You paused, smiling at the memory.

Carlos shook his head, completely engrossed in your story.

"He said it was me. Can you believe that? His older sister who couldn't tell a thing about cars. I think I cried for an hour after that interview."

As you finished your tale, you noticed Carlos watching you with an unreadable expression. "What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Carlos smiled softly, reaching across the table to take your hand.

"Hermosa," he said gently, "I asked about your childhood, and you've told me all about Oscar's racing career."

You blinked, realizing he was right. "Oh, I... I guess I got carried away. Sorry about that."

"No, no," Carlos squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I love hearing about Oscar, truly. But I want to know about you. What did you like growing up? What were your passions, your dreams?"

You blinked, suddenly realizing that you had automatically steered the conversation towards Oscar, as you had done countless times before when asked about your childhood. The fact that Carlos had redirected the focus back to you left you momentarily speechless.

"I... wow," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before."

"Really? But surely people must have been interested in your childhood too?"

You shrugged, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. "Not really. I mean, Oscar was always the star, you know? My pride and joy, the racing prodigy. People were always more interested in his story."

Carlos squeezed your hand gently. "Well, I'm interested in your story. Tell me about little YN Piastri, not just Oscar's sister."

You took a deep breath, feeling a lot of emotions you couldn't quite name. Carlos's genuine interest in your personal story touched something deep within you, a part of yourself you'd almost forgotten existed.

"Actually," you began, your voice soft as you delved into long-buried memories, "I was always drawn to art. Not just painting or drawing, but all forms of visual expression. I remember spending hours in our backyard, arranging leaves and flowers into patterns, or using chalk to create massive, colorful murals on our driveway."

"That sounds beautiful. Did you take classes?" Carlos leaned in, his eyes bright with interest.

"Not really. I wasn't great in school, to be honest. Sitting still, focusing on textbooks - it just wasn't my strong suit. But give me a blank canvas or a lump of clay, and I could lose myself for hours."

"So why didn't you pursue it?" Carlos asked gently.

You paused, considering Carlos's question. It was something you'd never really articulated before, even to yourself.

"I guess... I never saw it as something to pursue," you said slowly. "My focus was always on Oscar. From the moment he started showing promise in racing, I just naturally fell into the role of his protector, his support system."

You smiled softly, remembering those early days. "Oscar was so talented, but he was also just a kid with big dreams and even bigger pressures. I felt like it was my job to shield him from the worst of it, to be his safe haven. It wasn't a sacrifice, not really. It was a choice I made out of love. Oscar's success, his happiness - that became my passion."

"But what about your art?" Carlos pressed, his tone careful but curious.

You shrugged, a mix of emotions flickering across your face. "It just… faded into the background, I guess. There were always races to attend, equipment to pack. My sketchbooks got buried under stacks of racing magazines. My easel gathered dust in the corner of my room."

Carlos reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "YN , that's… that's incredibly selfless of you. But don't you miss it?"

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you at Carlos's question, his gentle touch grounding you.

"I do," you admitted softly, your eyes meeting his. "I've been Oscar's sister, his supporter, for so long. I'm not sure I remember how to be anything else."

"Oh, mi amor," Carlos said softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You're so much more than just Oscar's sister. You're YN - a woman with a beautiful heart and a determinate mind. Your love for Oscar is admirable, but it doesn't have to be the only thing that defines you," he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, "I'm honored to be close to that woman. The one who sees beauty in leaves and flowers, who can lose herself in creating art, even when she forgets about it."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But old habits die hard, and you found yourself deflecting with humor. "Wow, Sainz," you said, a teasing glint in your eye. "Are you always this sappy, or am I just special?"

Carlos's face broke into a grin, recognizing your playful tone. "Only for you, Piastri. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

"Oh please," you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Your reputation as what? A little bitch?"

Carlos' face broke into a wide grin, "One day you'll stop calling me that."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the earlier conversation dissolving into familiar banter. "Keep telling yourself that, Sainz."

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ynpiastri te quiero barcelona 🫶

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username1 OH

username2 WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG

alexandrasaintmleux 👀❤️

username3 SHE THINKS SHES SLICK CROPPING CARLOS’ EYES GIRL WE CAN TELL ITS HIM

lilyzneimer 🥹

username4 the piastri - sainz beef turning into piastri - sainz romance wasn’t on my bingo card

nicolepiastri You failed Spanish like three times in high school…

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ oscarpiastri 😂😂😂😂😂😂

↳ username2 mama piastri is too iconic for constantly dragging her kids

↳ ynpiastri 😩

landonorris I SEE HOW IT IS NOW

↳ username1 help lando’s dreams came true

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Saturday arrived in Barcelona, which meant it was time for qualifying.

After your quick rendezvous with Carlos in his motorhome - something that was routine by now- you made your way towards the paddock club to meet Alex and Kika. Your mind was still buzzing from Carlos' touch, your skin tingling where his lips had been just moments ago.

Your hair was slightly tousled, a result of Carlos' fingers running through it. You could still feel the ghost of his kisses on your neck, and the memory sent a shiver down your spine. Pausing briefly, you tried to smooth down your clothes and fix your appearance in the reflection of a nearby trailer. The last thing you needed was more knowing looks from your friends, you had enough when Lando teasing you and Carlos whenever he had the chance.

Approaching the paddock club, you spotted Alex and Kika waiting for you near the entrance.

"Hey, there you are!" Alex called out as you neared. "We were starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "In a place I've been coming to for years? Not likely."

The three of you sat down at a nearby table and ordered something to drink. The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from race predictions to the latest paddock gossip.

"So," Kika said, leaning forward towards you, "how are things going with Carlos? You two seem pretty cozy lately."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, the warmth spreading to your cheeks. You took a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment, but you couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. "Things are good. Really good, actually."

"But…?" Alex's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied your face.

"But nothing," you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "We're just enjoying each other's company."

Kika's eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet? I thought for sure you two would be official by now."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, bringing all your insecurities rushing to the surface. The ones you've tried to push away since this thing with Carlos began.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your friends knew you too well. The smile you'd been wearing moments ago faltered, and you could feel the doubt creeping in.

"Hey," Alex said softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Carlos is crazy about you, anyone can see that. Every relationship moves at its own pace."

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, of course. We're just taking things slow, that's all."

But as the conversation moved on to other topics, you couldn't shake the doubt that had taken root in your mind. You found yourself only half-listening, your thoughts a swirling mess of questions and insecurities.

Why hadn't Carlos made things official? Was he keeping his options open? Were you still just his rival's sister who picked fights with him in his eyes? The rational part of your brain tried to argue that labels didn't matter, that what you and Carlos had was special regardless of what you called it. But the insecure part wouldn't be silenced so easily.

As you sat there, surrounded by the chatter of your friends and the energy of the circuit, you felt a strange sense of isolation creep over you. You were in Carlos' home city, surrounded by his world, and yet you'd never felt more unsure of your place in it.

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"Finally," Carlos breathed, as he opened the door. Before you could utter a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind you. In one fluid motion, he pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours.

"Carlos, what-" you started, but he silenced you with a searing kiss.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. "Sorry," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"You saw me right after the race, you needy little bitch."

Carlos' hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. "That was hours ago. Far too long."

"Seriously?" you teased, though you couldn't keep the affection out of your voice. "You're ridiculous, Sainz."

"Maybe," he conceded, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. "But you like it."

Carlos began to trail kisses down your neck, his touch igniting sparks across your skin. You laughed as he pulled you towards the bed, your fingers intertwining with his.

"Slow down, hotshot. The bed's not going anywhere."

"But my patience might," he turned to face you, "Do you know how hard it was to focus on the post-race interviews when all I could think about was getting you alone?"

"Oh, poor baby," you teased gently, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "It must have been tough, going over the race data after a P6 finish."

Carlos groaned dramatically, pulling you closer. "Torture, hermosa. Absolute torture."

Carlos guided you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body. With a gentle push, he lowered you onto the mattress, quickly following to hover above you. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and passionate, as his hands roamed your sides, slipping under the hem of your shirt.

You arched into his touch, your own hands exploring the firm planes of his back. Carlos broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck that always made you gasp.

"You're really needy today, aren't you?" you said, running your fingers through his hair.

Carlos' lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes softening with affection. "I'm always needy when it comes to my girl," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips once more.

Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sensation of his warm breath on your skin, but from his words. My girl. The phrase echoed in your mind, stirring up the doubts you'd been trying to push away.

Suddenly, Kika's voice from your earlier conversation rang in your ears. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet?"

The warmth that had been building in your chest turned cold as uncertainty crept in. If you were his girl, then why hadn't he made it official?

Carlos must have sensed your sudden tension because he pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing. "YN? What's wrong?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the doubts. "Nothing," you said, your voice not quite as steady as you'd hoped.

He studied your face for a moment, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you sure? We can stop if you're not feeling it."

"No, no," you assured him quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I'm fine. Just… got distracted for a second."

Carlos didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded slowly. "Okay, but promise me you'll tell me if something's bothering you?"

You nodded, pulling him back down for another kiss. As you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you pushed your concerns to the back of your mind.

A few moments later, you laid tangled beneath the covers, your head resting on Carlos' chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder. The afterglow should have been blissful, but your mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts you couldn't quiet.

Carlos must have sensed your unease because he shifted slightly, tilting his head to look at you. "YN? What's wrong, hermosa? You seem… distant. Are you not feeling well?"

You sighed, debating whether to voice your concerns. "It's nothing, really. I just…" you trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

You bit your lip, your heart racing. "It's just… when you called me 'your girl' earlier… I don't know. It made me think."

"Think about what?" Carlos' brow furrowed slightly. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, you didn't," you assured him quickly. "It's more about… us, I guess. About what we are. What this is between us."

"YN," he said, his voice low and intense. "I thought I've been clear about how I feel about you. I've been yours since that kiss at Jimmy'z last year. Maybe even before that, if I'm being honest."

His words should have reassured you, but they only made your anxiety spike. You sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet around you.

You'd wanted clarity, but now that you had it, you didn't know how to handle it.

"But what does that mean, Carlos?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "We've been doing... whatever this is for months now, but we've never really talked about it. We haven't put a label on it."

Carlos sat up too, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I didn't think we needed to. I thought it was obvious how I felt about you."

"Obvious?" you repeated, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "How is it obvious when we've never actually discussed what we are to each other?"

Carlos reached for your hand, but you pulled away, standing up from the bed. You began pacing, your mind racing.

"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice soft. "Come back to bed. Let's talk about this."

You shook your head, reaching for your clothes. "I can't... I need to think. I need some space."

As you hurriedly dressed, Carlos got out of bed, pulling on his boxers. "Are you really running away, Piastri?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice now. "I thought we were past this. That you weren't that arrogant girl who was ready to pick up pointless fights with me anymore."

His words stung, cutting deeper than you thought possible. It felt like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling. The accusation brought back all the insecurities you'd been trying to suppress, all the doubts about whether you deserved this happiness with Carlos. It was as if he'd reached into your chest and squeezed your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable.

You whirled to face him, eyes flashing with hurt and anger. "Arrogant? Is that what you think of me?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "I just... I thought we'd moved past the point where you'd run away instead of talking to me."

"Maybe I wouldn't feel the need to run if you'd actually communicate with me," you shot back.

"Communicate?" Carlos scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. You're the one who's been keeping me at arm's length this whole time!"

The accusation hit you like a slap. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, YN," Carlos said, his voice rising. "Every time things get too real, you pull away. You make a joke, you change the subject. It's like you're afraid of admitting that this might actually mean something."

"That's not fair," you protested, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "I'm here, aren't I? I've been here! But how am I supposed to be sure that this isn't just a fling for you? Or some twisted way to mess with Oscar?"

"Oscar?" Carlos looked you with wide eyes, shaking his head, "What does Oscar have to do with anything? This is about us, YN. You and me."

"Is it?" you challenged, your voice breaking. "Because sometimes I don't even know what 'us' means. Are we together? Are we just having fun? How am I supposed to know?"

Carlos' expression softened slightly, but his frustration was still evident. "You're not being fair, Piastri. I've always been the one to show my desire to be with you. I did it that night after Lando's party, remember? But you're the one who runs away when things get real."

His words hit home, and you felt a fresh wave of guilt and confusion wash over you.

"I don't... I don't run away," you said weakly, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

"Don't you?" Carlos asked, his voice softening. "Every time I try to take a step forward, you take three steps back. I'm not the one who's afraid of labels here."

Silence lingered in the air, you felt physically sick. Carlos' words were true, every single one of them, deep down you knew it. As much as you tried to let your guard down with him, your self defense mechanisms always came through.

"When are you going to stop sabotaging your own happiness for other people?" Carlos asked after another minute of silence. "This isn't about Oscar, or anyone else. It's about you being too scared to admit that you might actually care about me."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, once again. "Scared? You think I'm scared? I'm terrified, Carlos! Terrified of getting hurt, of ruining everything. And you're not exactly making it easy.""

"How am I not making it easy?" Carlos demanded, his voice rising. "I've been nothing but clear about my feelings for you. Every time I get close, you shut down!" Carlos shouted, his frustration boiling over. "It's like you're allergic to any kind of emotional intimacy!"

"Oh, that's something coming from you," you spat back. "Mr. 'I-can-charm-anyone-with-a-smile'. How do I know this isn't just another conquest for you?"

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You saw the hurt flash across Carlos' face, quickly replaced by anger.

"A conquest?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Is that really what you think of me? After everything I've shared with you?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," you said, your voice breaking. "This whole thing is just... it's too much. I can't do this."

You turned towards the door, reaching for the handle. Carlos stepped forward, his anger dissipating, replaced by desperation.

"YN, wait," he pleaded. "Please, don't go. Not like this. Let's talk, mi amor. Don't run from me."

The term of endearment, spoken so softly, almost broke your resolve. You paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to flee and the desire to fall into his arms.

"I... I can't, Carlos," you whispered, your voice thick with tears. "I need some time. Some space to think."

"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can figure this out together. Just... stay. Please."

You turned to look at him one last time, your heart breaking at the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," you managed to say. "I'll... I'll call you later."

And with that, you stepped out into the hallway, leaving Carlos standing alone in his room.

You immediately felt like you made a huge mistake.

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You were curled up on the couch in your apartment, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the TV screen. The sound was muted, the flickering images providing a distraction you desperately needed but couldn't quite focus on. Your phone lay face down on the coffee table, ignored despite the occasional vibration of incoming messages.

Your mind wandered to Carlos, it always did.

The memory of your argument played on repeat in your head, each hurtful word a fresh wound. You couldn't shake the image of his face - the hurt, the anger, the desperation in his eyes as you walked out the door. It haunted you.

Everything that had happened that night felt like a blur. The passion of your initial encounter, the tenderness of his touch, the way he called you "his girl" - it all seemed so perfect until your insecurities came crashing in. You wondered if you had overreacted, if you had let your fears get the best of you.

Carlos had been right about one thing - you did have a tendency to run when things got too real. It was a defense mechanism, a way to protect yourself from getting hurt. But in doing so, were you sabotaging your own happiness, like he said?

The only thing you were sure about was that it wasn't physical attraction or the remaining tension of your bickering from last year anymore, Carlos saw you in a way no one else did, and that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.

Your conversation with Lando from earlier that day came back to you. You had called him in a moment of panic, spilling out all your fears and doubts. Lando, ever the unusual voice of reason, had listened patiently.

"YN," he had said, his voice gentle but firm, "you can't let your insecurities ruin what you and Carlos could have. I've known him for years, and I've never seen him like this with anyone else. He really cares about you."

"But what if it doesn't work out?" you had asked, your voice small. "What if we end up hating each other again?"

Lando had chuckled at that. "You two are so stubborn, you know that? You're both so afraid of letting your guard down that you're pushing each other away. Someone needs to take the first step, YN. And from what Carlos has told me, he's been trying. Maybe it's your turn."

His words echoed in your mind now, mixing with the memory of Carlos' plea for you to stay.

You made a huge mistake by walking away that night, and now you didn't know how to fix it.

A soft knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You hesitated, not wanting to face anyone, but another, more insistent knock followed.

"YN? It's me, open up," Oscar's voice called from the other side.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and shuffled to the door. When you opened it, your brother's concerned face greeted you.

"Hey," Oscar said softly, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. Oscar walked in, his gaze taking in the dim lighting and the general disarray of your usually tidy living room. He turned to face you, worry etched across his features.

"What's going on, sis? I heard you're not going to Austria," he said, his voice gentle but probing. "And it looks like you haven't slept in days."

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I just need a break," you mumbled, moving back to the couch and curling up in your previous position.

Oscar followed, sitting down beside you.

He reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and familiar. "YN, talk to me. What's really going on? Is this about Carlos?"

At the mention of Carlos' name, you felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Oscar noticed your reaction and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Oh, sis," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "What happened?"

You buried your face in your brother's shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. Between sobs, you started to explain everything that had happened in Barcelona - the conversation with Kika and Alex, your growing insecurities, the night in Carlos's hotel room, your argument. As you spoke, you could feel the weight of the past week pressing down on you, the emotions you'd been bottling up threatening to spill over.

"…and now, I don't know what to do," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I've ruined everything."

"YN, listen to me. You haven't ruined anything," Oscar said, "Relationships are complicated, and misunderstandings happen. But from what you've told me and what I've seen, it sounds like Carlos cares about you a lot. And I think you care about him too, more than you're willing to admit to yourself."

"But what if it all goes wrong?" you wiped your eyes, sniffling. "What if we end up hating each other even more than we did before? What if... what if I'm not enough for him?"

Oscar shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You've always been your own worst enemy, you know that?" you almost rolled your eyes at he familiar statement. "Remember when I left for boarding school? You were so upset, convinced that I was leaving you behind forever. You didn't want to say goodbye, afraid it would hurt too much."

The memory flooded back, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "Yeah, I remember," you said softly.

"But do you remember what happened after?" Oscar prompted.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "We ended up talking more than ever. Phone calls, letters, video chats…"

"Exactly," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "You were so scared of losing me that you almost pushed me away. But when you finally opened up, our relationship grew stronger than ever."

"That's different, Oscar. This is… it's Carlos. It's complicated."

"Is it?" Oscar challenged. "Or are you just making it complicated because you're scared? I've seen the way you two look at each other. It's not just some leftover tension from your rivalry. It's real."

You sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. "But what if-"

"No more 'what ifs'," Oscar interrupted. "You can't live your life afraid of what might happen. You're missing out on what's right in front of you," you were quiet for a moment, considering his words until he spoke again, "I know you’ve held back a lot in your life—for me, for our family—but I don’t want you holding back when it comes to Carlos.”

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Oscar hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I mean… I’ve seen how much you sacrifice for the people you love. You’ve put so much of your own life on hold to support me, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But when it comes to Carlos—this thing between you—it’s different. I would never forgive myself if you sacrificed that for my sake.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you realized how much Oscar understood you, maybe even more than you realized. “Oscar, I’m not holding back for you, I—”

“I know you’re not doing it consciously," he interrupted gently, "But I can see it. You’re worried about how our dynamic will change, or maybe how I’ll react. But, YN, I want you to be happy. If being with Carlos makes you happy, then I want you to go for it. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about anyone else.”

You sat there, absorbing what Oscar said. His words made you feel a lot of different things all at once. You realized he was right - you had been holding back, not just with Carlos, but in many parts of your life. This scared you, but also made you feel free.

It was time to put yourself first.

"I hate that you're always so wise, you're my little brother, I'm supposed to be the one giving you advice, not the other way around."

"To be fair, I was thrown into the motorsport world at an early age, you experience all kinds of drama there," he shrugged, making both of you laugh, "Now, are you going to talk to him, or do I need to drag you to Austria myself? Or even Madrid?"

You let out a small laugh, the first genuine one in days. "I guess I'll talk to him. But I still don't feel like going to Austria, I need some time to gather my thoughts."

"Fair enough," Oscar nodded, "Just don't take too long, okay? You both deserve to be happy. And Lando is freaking out because you're ruining his dreams again."

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 397,538 others

ynpiastri i almost forgot how it felt to watch a race on tv. congratulations boys 🥳 and ty to my queen @carmenmmundt for the last picture

tagged: oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, georgerussell63

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username1 QUEEN WE MISS YOU WHAT HAPPENED

username2 the paddock is not the same without the most iconic piastri

lilyzneimer 🤍

carmenmmundt 😚😚

username3 im pretty sure this is the first time she’s not at a race since oscar’s f2 days

username4 THE 55 HELLO?????

username5 WHATS THEIR SHIP NAME?? PAINZ???

username6 she’s down bad for the smooth operator this is what i call enemies to lovers

landonorris You seem happy for my DNF…

↳ ynpiastri stfu

carlossainz55 ❤️

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You paced nervously in your apartment, your heart racing as you waited for Carlos to arrive. The soft carpet muffled your footsteps but did nothing to quiet the storm of thoughts in your head. You had rehearsed what you wanted to say a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, all your carefully prepared words seemed to evaporate.

Your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall, then to your phone, checking the time for what felt like the thousandth time. The knock on the door made you jump, your pulse skyrocketing. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. "It's just Carlos," you told yourself, but that thought brought both comfort and a new wave of anxiety.

With trembling hands, you smoothed down your shirt and ran a hand through your hair before opening the door. Carlos stood there, looking tired but as handsome as ever. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd been running his hands through it—a nervous habit you'd noticed before.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, a mix of relief and apprehension in his gaze. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions.

"Hi," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You stepped aside to let him in, hyper-aware of his presence as he moved past you.

"Hi," he replied, his voice warm as he entered.

You led him to the living room, settling on the couch. There was a moment of awkward silence, the tension palpable. You both opened your mouths to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry—“

"I wanted to—"

You both laughed, some of the tension dissipating. The sound of his laughter, even tinged with nervousness, helped to ease some of your anxiety.

"You go first," Carlos said, his eyes soft as he looked at you. His gaze was patient, encouraging, and you drew strength from it.

You took a deep breath, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, knowing he deserved your full honesty. "Carlos, I'm so sorry for running away in Barcelona. It wasn't fair to you, and I've been kicking myself ever since. I… I panicked. Everything was happening so fast, and I just… I couldn't handle it."

He nodded, his expression understanding. He reached out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver through you. "I appreciate that, YN. Truly. But I owe you an apology too. I shouldn't have pushed you or made assumptions about your feelings. I got caught up in the moment and didn't consider how overwhelming it might be for you."

"No, Carlos, you were right," you shook your head, squeezing his hand. "I do run away when things get too real. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to myself either."

You paused, gathering your courage. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Carlos must be able to hear it. "The truth is, I care about you. A lot. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. And that terrifies me."

Carlos moved closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. The tenderness in his touch almost undid you. "Why does it terrify you, mi amor?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You leaned into his touch, feeling tears prick at your eyes. The vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to continue. "Because I'm not used to feeling this vulnerable. I've always prided myself on being independent, on not needing anyone. It's been my armor, my way of protecting myself. But with you… you see parts of me that I don't show anyone else. You've managed to slip past all my defenses, and it scares me how much I want to let you in completely."

Carlos listened intently, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you spoke. His warmth, his steady presence, made the walls you had built around yourself seem almost unnecessary.

"It's okay to be scared, hermosa. I understand why you feel like you need to protect yourself. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here, and I want to be here for you, with you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and despite the vulnerability, a small part of you felt lighter, freer. "I’ve never let anyone get this close before," you admitted. "But I don’t want to keep running, Carlos. I don’t want to keep pushing you away."

Carlos smiled softly, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. "I don’t want you to run, either. I want us to be together, whatever comes next. But only if that’s what you want."

You exhaled shakily, emotions swirling inside you like a storm. "It is what I want," you said, your voice firm but laced with emotion. "I want to be with you. I’m tired of being scared of something that could be so good."

A look of pure relief crossed Carlos' face, and he pulled you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his heart beating steadily under your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he were afraid you might disappear.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, answering the unspoken fear that lingered between you both.

Carlos kissed the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, "I promise I'll change, I'll be-"

"Mi amor," Carlos interrupted softly, "I don't want to change you. I fell for you exactly as you are—stubborn, brilliant, and fiercely independent. Those are the qualities that drew me to you in the first place."

You couldn't help but smile at that, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Even when I was being a pain in your ass?" you asked, a hint of your usual sass creeping into your voice.

"Especially then," he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. "You know, even when we were at each other's throats, I was always drawn to you. I wanted to know you better, to understand what made you such a firecracker."

"Really?" you asked, surprised.

"Really," he confirmed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Besides, you were infuriatingly attractive when you were angry. The way your eyes would flash, the flush on your cheeks… it took everything in me not to kiss you right then and there sometimes."

You felt a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks at Carlos' words, but you couldn't help the playful smirk that tugged at your lips. "Oh, so that's why you were always trying to rile me up, huh? And here I thought you were just being an insufferable little bitch."

"Ah, there's the Piastri I know," Carlos threw his head back in laughter. "I was wondering when your sharp tongue would make an appearance."

"You love it," you teased, feeling more like yourself than you had in days.

"I do," he admitted, his eyes twinkling.

Carlos' gaze dropped to your lips. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't want to. Not anymore.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was still afraid you might run. But as you responded, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.

When you finally pulled apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "I meant every word I said," he murmured. "I'm serious about this. I want to make this work."

You took a deep breath, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now. "I'm serious too, Carlos. It scares me how much I want this, but… I want to be with you."

The smile that broke across Carlos' face was radiant. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again.

"You're still my little bitch after all," you couldn't help but laugh as you parted.

"When are you going to change that to something more romantic, hmm?" Carlos rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "'Mi amor,' perhaps? Or 'cariño'?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I failed Spanish in high school?" you rolled your eyes back at him. "And I thought you liked it when I called you that. Didn't you say once that it turned you on?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," he said with a grin. "But how about this—you can call me your 'little bitch' if you want, but I get to call you my girlfriend. Deal?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the word 'girlfriend.' It should have scared you, but instead, it filled you with warmth.

"Deal," you agreed, pulling him in for another kiss.

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ynpiastri fitting 💋

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username1 OMGGGG

username2 ICONIC

alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂

username3 WHOS THE BOYFRIENDDDD

logansargeant Is this who I think it is? 👀

↳ ynpiastri little bitches everywhere

username4 THATS CARLOS CONFIRMED

username5 CARLOSYN PAINZ 😩

landonorris BITCH FINALLY

↳ username1 i bet lando manifested this

nicolepiastri We been knew since Singapore 2023, by the way

↳ ynpiastri MUM 😩

↳ username2 I LOVE YOU NICOLE PIASTRI

carlossainz55 ❤️

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The Hungarian Grand Prix had been a whirlwind of emotions. The entire paddock was still buzzing with excitement over Oscar's maiden Formula 1 victory.

Your little brother had driven the race of his life, leading most of the laps to take the checkered flag. The memory of him standing on the top step of the podium, eyes glistening with tears of joy as the Australian national anthem played, was one you'd cherish forever. The pride you felt was indescribable - your baby brother, the kid you'd watched grow up and chase his dreams, was now a Grand Prix winner.

It had been three blissful weeks since you and Carlos had officially become a couple. After your heartfelt conversation at your apartment, you had both taken the time to navigate this new phase of your relationship, and it had been everything you could have hoped for.

Telling your close friends and family was the easy part. Lando practically squealed with delight, Oscar and Carlos had a nice chat, and of course, Nicole Piastri, a fan of dragging her own kids, reminded everyone that you failed Spanish in high school multiple times, so Carlos had to make sure to constantly translate for you. The rest of the paddock had quickly caught on, and soon, Carlos Sainz and the eldest Piastri were the talk of the town.

But you didn't mind the attention. Being with Carlos felt so natural and right.

Now, as you sat in the airport waiting for your delayed flight to Monaco, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Sure, the hours-long delay was less than ideal, but you were surrounded by the people you cared about most, celebrating Oscar's first win with good old fasioned airport McDonalds.

"I can't believe Oscar got his first win," Lando exclaimed, already halfway through a Big Mac. "That's crazy, mate."

"I know, I still can't believe it," Oscar beamed, "It hasn't really sunk in yet."

You reached over to give your brother's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'm so proud of you, Osc. You deserve it."

"Thanks, sister. Couldn't have done it without your support all these years."

"Oh, come on," you teased, "I didn't drive that car. That was all you out there."

"Yeah, but you've always been there," Oscar insisted, his voice softening. "Through the karting days, the junior formulas, all of it. It means a lot."

You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by your brother's words. You pulled Oscar into a tight hug, blinking back tears of pride and joy. "You're my little brother, Osc. I'll always be in your corner, no matter what."

Oscar returned the embrace, squeezing you tightly. "I know, YN. And I couldn't ask for a better cheerleader."

When you finally pulled apart, you noticed the others watching with fond smiles.

Across the lounge, Carlos was engaged in an animated conversation with Lando, their voices a low hum in the background. You couldn't help but watch him, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the graceful movement of his hands as he gesticulated. Even in casual clothes, hair slightly mussed from the long day, he took your breath away.

As if sensing your gaze, Carlos looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The soft smile that spread across his face sent a flutter through your chest. You patted the empty spot next to you on the couch, a silent invitation. He nodded, excusing himself from his conversation with Lando, which couldn't help but tease about the two of you being codependent now.

"Missing me already, mi amor?" Carlos teased as he approached.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't keep the smile off your face. "Don't flatter yourself, Sainz. I just didn't want you to strain your neck looking over here every five seconds."

Carlos chuckled as he sat down next to you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Ah, but how can I resist when the view is so beautiful?"

You snuggled into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. "Smooth talker," you murmured, but there was no bite to your words.

"Only for you, hermosa," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, watching as the sun began to set through the large windows. The quiet was occasionally punctuated by laughter from where Oscar, Alex, and Lando were playing some sort of card game.

"How are you feeling?" you asked Carlos softly, noticing the slight droop to his shoulders.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tired," he admitted. "It's been a long few weeks. But happy," he added, squeezing you gently. "Very happy."

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm glad. You drove amazingly this weekend, you know."

"Thank you," Carlos leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. "It means a lot coming from you."

Carlos let out a contented sigh, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested on his cheek. "I can't wait for the summer break, you know?" he murmured. "Just you and me, in Mallorca. No distractions, no obligations..." he turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm, his gaze holding yours. "I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Getting you all to myself, finally."

"That sounds perfect," you sighed happily. "Though I hope your plans also include plenty of time for just lounging around and doing absolutely nothing."

"Of course, whatever you want, hermosa."

"Whatever I want, huh?" you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye. "That's a dangerous offer, Sainz."

"I think I can handle whatever you throw at me, Piastri," he grinned, leaning in closer.

You were about to reply when a french fry hit you squarely on the forehead. You turned to see Oscar looking at you with mock disgust.

"Seriously, you two? We're right here," he groaned.

"Oh, like you and Lily aren't just as bad," you retorted, throwing the fry back at him.

Oscar caught it mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a grin. "At least we have the decency to be gross in private."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to see you all lovey-dovey," Lando chimed in.

"Shut up, Lando," you rolled your eyes, "I seem to recall you being the one who was pushing for this whole thing in the first place."

"Yeah, well," Lando shrugged, "I'm starting to think I preferred it when Carlos thought you were insufferable and you called him a 'little bitch'."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, glancing over at Carlos and pecking his cheek. "Oh, I still do."

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri 403,664 others

ynpiastri my little brother, the grand prix winner 🥺

oscar, watching you stand on that top step today brought tears to my eyes. i still remember the day you left for boarding school to chase your racing dreams. i felt like i was losing my little brother, and a piece of my heart went with you.

but seeing you now, living your dream and achieving what so many thought impossible, all i can feel is an overwhelming sense of pride. you've grown into an incredible man and driver, but you'll always be that kid who used to steal my snacks and beg me to play race cars with him.

your journey hasn't been easy, through every challenge, every setback, you kept pushing. and now, here you are, a grand prix winner, battling with the best (and occasionally a spaniard little bitch 😩)

you've grown so much, but some things never change. like how we're celebrating this monumental victory - stuck in an airport, chowing down on mcdonald's.

i love you so much, little bro ❤️

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlossainz55, landonorris, alex_albon

view all 4,648 comments

username1 im SOBBING this is so beautiful

username2 THE PIASTRI SIBLINGS ARE JUST TOO PURE

mclaren 🧡

nicolepiastri 🥲🥲🥲

username3 AHHH THE PICTURE OF HER AND CARLOS IN THE PLANE I CANT

username4 this is too pure as an eldest daughter im sobbing

username5 PAINZ CONFIRMED

carlossainz55 ❤️

↳ username1 he only comments hearts come on bro

username6 THE LANDOSCAR PIC🥺

oscarpiastri Sis, you've got me tearing up in the middle of this crowded airport. Your support has been the backbone of my journey, and I couldn't have done this without you. You've worn so many hats - cheerleader, mentor, occasional bodyguard (those Twitter wars were something else 😂 but look at you and Carlos now). But most importantly, you've been my rock. When Mum and Dad couldn't be there because of work, you stepped up. You've been my third parent in every way that counts. So yeah, we might be stuck in an airport eating McDonald's right now, but I wouldn't want to share this moment with anyone else. You're the best sister and 'bonus parent' a guy could ask for.

↳ ynpiastri bitch stop it my therapist has enough issues to deal with (ILYSM)

↳ username1 SHES SO REAL

↳ username2 OSCAR CONFIRMING CARLOS-YN

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TWITTER

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The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in oranges, pinks, and purples. The water was gently hitting the side of the yacht, making a calming sound. This peaceful feeling matched the quiet mood around you and Carlos.

You were sprawled out on the deck, lounging on plush cushions as the warm Mallorcan breeze caressed your skin. Carlos lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're staring," you murmured, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Carlos didn't even try to deny it. "How can I not?" he replied, his voice low and husky. "You're breathtaking, mi amor."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, still not entirely used to the way Carlos could make you feel with just a few words. "Flatterer," you teased, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly in contentment. When he opened them again, the look he gave you was filled with such warmth and adoration that it made your heart skip a beat.

"It's not flattery if it's true," Carlos insisted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You couldn't help the small gasp that escaped you as his lips trailed up your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Carlos," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver through you. "Yes, hermosa?"

"Kiss me," you demanded softly, tugging him closer.

Carlos was more than happy to oblige, capturing your lips in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. You lost yourself in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally broke apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his accent thicker than usual.

"Good. That's the plan," you grinned

Carlos groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You'll be the death of me, Piastri."

"But what a way to go," you quipped, running your hands down his back.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through you. "Indeed."

As Carlos lifted his head to look at you again, something caught your eye over his shoulder. Squinting slightly, you realized what it was and couldn't help but let out a small sigh.

"What is it?" Carlos asked, noticing the change in your expression.

"Don't look now, but we've got company," you said, nodding slightly towards the distance. "Paparazzi, about a hundred meters out."

Carlos groaned, dropping his head back to your shoulder. "Can't we have one moment of peace?"

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. "Hey, it's okay. We knew this was part of the deal."

"I know. I just… I want to keep you all to myself sometimes."

The possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through you. "Well," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, "if they're going to intrude on our privacy anyway, we might as well give them something to see."

Before Carlos could react, you pulled him down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and decidedly more public-friendly than your previous ones. When you pulled back, Carlos looked slightly dazed.

"Dios mio, your family is going to see those," he shook his head, "What will Nicole Piastri think of me? Oscar will run me off the track, too."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, please. My mum adores you, and you know it. As for Oscar, well… he'll just have to get used to it," you shrugged, "He was the one who encouraged this to happen anyway."

Carlos only shook his head with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling his skin against yours.

When you finally broke apart, Carlos's eyes were soft, "Te quiero," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with emotion.

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "I failed Spanish, remember?" you teased gently, your heart racing in your chest.

Carlos's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back. "I think you know what that means," he replied, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I love you too, you little bitch."

Carlos let out a dramatic groan, but the affection in his expression was unmistakable. "I should have known the sappiness wouldn't last."

"Hey, you signed up for this," you teased, poking him playfully in the chest. "Might as well accept it."

Pulling you close, Carlos pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Gladly, mi amor. Gladly."

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liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 476,458 others

ynpiastri he’s still a little bitch 😚

tagged: carlossainz55

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username1 AHHHH

username2 THIS HARD LAUCH

alexandrasaintmleux love to see you happy my girl 🥰

lilyzneimer 💓💓

username3 THIS is enemies to lovers

username4 i still can’t believe they’re together 😭 THEY HATED EACH OTHER

georgerussell63 WELL FINALLY

↳ alex_albon For real

↳ username1 THE ENTIRE GRID JUST KNEW

↳ ynpiastri why are all of you so damn nosy

↳ pierregasly Or you and Carlos were too obvious

↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂😂

oscarpiastri Yup, this is weird

↳ username1 OSCARRRR

oscarpiastri However, I’m really happy for you sister ❤️

↳ ynpiastri ily little indirect matchmaker

carlossainz55 You’ll never stop calling me that, won’t you hermosa?

↳ ynpiastri NEVERRR MY LITTLE BITCH FOR LIFE

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Monster (Homelander)

Description: Y/N and Homelander are soulmates

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 3,540k

They made eye contact for the first time and the colors started appearing for them both. Homelander waited his entire life for this moment and he couldn’t believe that his soulmate was his enemy. Y/N stared at him with a look of horror as she realized that the worst guy on the planet was her soulmate.

The others weren’t around luckily just them. They weren’t even in a fight she was spying on him at a rally that he was part of for Victoria. Y/N looked around at all the different colors of the universe that she could see and though she was amazed she was scared of who caused her to see these things. Homelander didn’t stop staring at her as he saw her look around. His stare wasn’t an evil one anymore. It was a curious one and a look of shock. Y/N saw that his eyes hadn't left her so she left. 

She couldn’t tell a single soul about what she discovered. Not even her best friends who hated Homelander. The Boys was a group that was basically created to kill the man. And Y/N was all for it but she couldn’t believe that the guy she was supposed to kill was her soulmate. Y/N was in shock but hid it really well from the group. “So what did you see?” MM asked her as they ate lunch. Colors she thought but couldn’t say that.

“He was just there at the rally. They must be working together.” She left before she could get the real information but if MM knew then she was sure he would understand but she couldn’t tell anyone. Starlight came in moments later and smiled at Y/N. Starlight was going through it and Y/N felt for her a lot. But right now Y/N had her own issue to worry about. 

Y/N had her own place but she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable sleeping there right now. Homelander would certainly find her especially after that. But maybe he would hate her as she hates him and not. She should have trusted her judgment because he did in fact find out where she lived. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She asked with hatred. “You know why I’m here.” He says and looks around. “Yeah well maybe we should let it go.” He chuckled.

Ugh why did his chuckle make her feel funny. “Yeah right. That’s not gonna happen.” He said. She stared at him and shook her head, “It needs to.” She was right. They needed to ignore the fact that they were soulmates but that wasn’t easy. “I get it. You’re with Billy and you want me dead but doesn’t this change that?” Why did he want that to change? He should still hate her no matter what. “No.” She said and went to shut the door in his face but his foot stopped it. She groaned and opened the door. “What they don’t know can't hurt them.” he said. 

She hated herself so much for the past few weeks. She was fucking the enemy and not just fucking him but falling in love with him. He was a monster and yet she still managed to see the good in him. Nobody knew what they were doing as he dressed in casual clothes to see her. When he was out and about in his uniform he was a different person. But in her home as he held her as she cuddled into his chest he was her soulmate and a damn good one too. “Ryan he uh he hates me.” He told her as they cuddled. Yeah I wonder why she thought but fought against saying that. “Why?” She asked, looking up at him. “I give him everything but yet he still cares for Butcher.” Hearing his name caused Y/N to mentally freak out. Billy would kill her if he knew what was going on.

“Billy cares about him.” She said. “Yeah but he’s about to die.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his words. That was shitty but she wasn’t surprised. She knew what Billy wanted and she was going to try to keep that promise she made to him. “Ryan’s a sweet kid.” She says and sits up. “Yeah but he needs to realize that we are stronger than humans and we matter and that Billy is just a dying vessel.” She looked at him with a glare. “Is that how you view me?” She asked. 

Homelander would never spend the night at her place as it was too risky in case someone shows up at her house. That barely happened but the last thing Y/N wants is for the world to know that she was with him. They haven’t labeled anything yet and Y/N didn’t want to. She was ashamed and embarrassed so she never wanted to put a name to anything. Y/N watched on her computer screen as FireCracker talked about how bad of a person Starlight was. It made her very mad because Annie was not a bad person unlike the Seven.

This new bitch was also obsessed with Homelander which Y/N hated but would never admit it. Homelander told her all about it and how he finds it weird. Y/N agreed with him but for different reasons. How could someone be obsessed with him? He was terrible. Y/N was with Annie when she decided to almost kill FireCracker. Though she couldn’t blame her. The difference is Y/N would have killed her. But Y/N didn’t have powers so she was useless. That night Homelander came to her house in his suit covered in blood. She gasped at the sight and let him in making sure nobody saw.

“What the hell happened?” She asked as she turned on her shower. He told her all about it and some tears were shed. She had never seen this man cry before and it broke her heart. His childhood was terrible and it made sense why he was the way he was. “Well for once I think you did the right thing.” She told him as she washed the blood off him. She agreed that they deserved to die. “You think I did the right thing?” He asked. She nodded. That made him smile a little but she saw. “That’s the only right thing I think you’ve done.” She said and his smile fell. He almost forgot that they were on two different sides. “Do you agree with what Billy does?” He asked her. “Some of it.” She said. Billy had a right but she did think that there were times that he went too far. “Why did you join him?” He asked her.

She set down the rag and sighed, “Men like you are the reason. I understand Billy.” She said. He raised his eyebrows. The woman certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. “Why?” “You raped his wife and caused him hell. If you don’t see why he does what he does then you need to open your eyes.” She said. “Well you certainly love to speak your mind.” He groaned. “Yup and if you don’t like it then leave.” “Can we not talk about what I've done? I have my reason too.” She rolled her eyes and left him in her bathroom. He got up to follow her. “Why are you walking away from me?” “You aren’t a victim to Billy. What you did was wrong and Billy has a right to kill you.” She said.

“Do you want him to kill me?” He asked and she turned towards him. “You don’t want my honest answer.” He felt his heart break of course she didn’t care if he died or not. “Well he’s never going to.” He growled. She ignored him and opened the door for him. “I’m sorry those people did terrible things to you but that doesn’t excuse what you did and are doing.” She said and motioned for him to leave her home. 

FireCracker was annoyed that Homelander wasn’t interested in her. She did everything for him and he just rolled his eyes anytime she was near him. She wanted to get to the bottom of it so she decided to stalk him. She knew he didn’t have a girlfriend or at least she didn’t think. But when she followed him to some random girl’s house she was met with a shocking truth. The girl looked familiar but she couldn’t figure out where from. She wasn’t a supe which was surprising because no ordinary woman deserved him.

She groaned as she saw the smile on his face as the woman let him in her house. The house was nice and she waited for them to go inside before investigating. Y/N sat on Homelander’s lap as she made out with him. His hands were placed on her hips and her hands placed on his chest. She’d never say this outloud but he was an amazing kisser. She pushed all her hateful thoughts towards him in the back of her mind. Her window was open but she nor Homelander heard FireCracker see them as they made out.

Homelander removed her shirt and threw it somewhere in the living room. FireCracker felt jealousy and she took a few pictures of them. She was going to find out who this was. Y/N pulled on his shirt signaling him to take it off. He did and she stared at his chest. She hated how hot he was. He smirked and pulled down her panties causing her to gasp as the cool air hit her wet pussy. “If you hate me so much how come you’re all wet for me?” He teased as he ran his fingers up her lips. She gasped at the feeling and he chuckled. “You’re so pretty.” He said and pulled her to her feet. She looked down at him as she was standing on her couch. He smirked and pulled her so her dripping pussy was in front of his face. He sniffed her and she nearly moaned at the sight. He pulled closer and licked her clit causing her to moan and grab his hair. He loved when she did that. Her other hand was placed on the couch to balance her as he ate her out.

His tongue felt like heaven and she enjoyed every second of him doing this to her. His hands were on her hips as he licked and sucked on her. Her moans were loud and pornographic. His name fell from her lips multiple times. Not Homelander but John. He hummed against her causing her to whine. Her high was close and he could feel it. “Cum all over my face love.” He said. She whined as she did. Her juices coating his face as her hips humped his face, riding out the pleasure. It was these moments that she couldn’t bring herself to care about who he was. He let her ride out her climax and ate up all her slick. She pulled away from sensitivity and looked down at him. His face was covered in her orgasm making her moan. She sat down on his lap with shaky legs. She cupped his face and kissed him tasting her juices on his lips and tongue. She licked the rest off his mouth. “I love you.” He whispered causing her eyes to widen. 

The pictures of them were posted to the internet the day after causing it to trend that Homelander had a girlfriend. Y/N was unaware of the pics as she walked in to where The Boys met up and was faced with disapproving looks. She gave them a confused look and Kumiko pointed to the TV. She looked at gasped at the pictures. They were of her and Homelander at her place. She looked at the others who didn’t look pleased. “Get the fuck out.” MM growled. “Can I explain?” She asked. “What’s there to explain you fucking the enemy?” He asked. She looked down at the ground.

“It’s not what you think.” She whispered. “Whatever it is I don’t care get the fuck out.” He said. Without a word she left the building with tears in her eyes. She knew she should have told them then and there what it was but she couldn’t. She was so mad that it got exposed and wanted to know how but instead she drove to the Vought building. Tears streaming down her face she got out of the car and made it into the building. Weird looks were given to her but she didn’t care. She was mad and she had a feeling Homelander set her up. She entered the elevator and hit a number hoping that she hit the right one. Luckily she did and walked out of the elevator The Deep saw her and smirked.

“What’s a hot thing like you doing here?” He flirted. Ugh she wanted to puke. “Where’s Homelander?” She asked ignoring him. “You’re the girl he’s seeing… he’s in there.” He pointed to the meeting room and she stormed in there. Homelander turned around at the noise and almost smiled at the sight of her until she slapped him. “You dickhead!” She yelled. “Ow what was that for?” He asked, rubbing his face. “You really thought that I wouldn’t find out?” “Find out what?” “That you leaked those pictures!” “What pictures?” He asked. She laughed. “You are such a piece of shit! I can’t believe I was almost in love with you!” She yelled at him. His face softened at her words, “You love me?” He asked. “No, why would I? You’re an awful human being. I hate that you’re my soulmate and I wish Billy would kill you!” She yelled. His face dropped at her words.

“Now the world knows about us all because you and your fucking ego!” She yelled. “I didn’t leak any pictures of us you bitch!” He growled and grabbed her by her throat. He left her up like she was nothing and she began choking. “I have done nothing but be nice to you and this is how you treat me?” He asked, watching her struggle. She couldn’t say anything and he chuckled. He threw her to the ground and watched as she gasped for air. “You really think I'm happy that my soulmate is a pathetic, no good human like you?” He asked. She stared up at him with hatred in her eyes. “You are nothing to me. You are below me and not worthy of me.” He screamed at her. Her face didn’t change and she stood up. “You’re a monster.” She said and left. He watched her leave and pulled out his phone.

What pictures is she talking about? His name was trending but when was it not? Though the same pictures of him and her were trending and he didn’t understand how and why did she think he was behind this? The pictures were of them kissing and it showed both of their faces pretty well. There was no doubt that The Boys knew about it and probably kicked her out. He tried to find the source of the pictures but it was posted anonymously. He needed to find out who did this. 

Y/N laid in her bed and cried for hours. She knew that it was a big mistake and she shouldn’t have let him into her home at all. He was a monster that she almost fell for. She hated herself and knew that her life was over and nothing good was to come. She had to get up and go get her things from MM. She wiped her eyes that were now sore from crying. She tried to make herself look like she wasn’t a hot mess and left her house. She pulled up to the building and sighed. She wasn’t sure she could do this but she had to.

She walked into the place with her head down. “I thought I told you to get the fuck out.” MM said to her. “I need to grab my things.” She said without looking at any of them. She packed up her things and felt eyes on her. She looked up and everyone was looking at her. “Why?” Frenchie asked. “Why do that?” She felt tears in her eyes again and she stopped packing. “The day of the rally that I went to and had to spy on him. We made eye contact and it was the first time I've ever made eye contact with him.

The world was no longer black and white for me.” She said. Annie covered her mouth and Hughie’s jaw dropped. “He’s your soulmate?” Annie asked and Y/N nodded now sobbing. Kumiko walked up and hugged her. She hugged her back and sobbed even harder. MM looked at her and sighed, “Why didn’t you tell us this?” “I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you guys hate me because of this.” “We don’t hate you.” Hughie said and Annie nodded. “He’s a monster and I hate myself for it everyday. He leaked those pictures. It’s like he planned this.” “He didn’t leak those pictures.” Hughie said.

She looked at him, “FireCracker did.” Her jaw dropped. “How do you know this?” She asked. “Well we wanted to know who leaked them and we traced the IP address and FireCracker did it.” Frenchie said. She couldn’t believe that she actually thought Homelander did that. She picked up her box of things and started walking to the door, “Thank you guys for everything. I’m sorry that all this happened and for what it’s worth. I want him to die.” She said. “Wait.” MM said. “I don’t really want you to leave.” She looked at him confused. “You’re family Y/N and this whole soulmate thing could help us.” She raised her eyebrow at his words.

Homelander glared daggers at FireCracker. He wasn’t a dumbass, he knew she did it and he wanted to laser her from where she stood. He hated what he said to Y/N and hated that she thought of him as a monster. Though a part of him knew it was true he still didn’t like the thought. He truly loved her and he knew she felt the same way about him but she tried to deny it. He had to fix things between them and if she truly wanted nothing to do with him. He would let her go. 

She sat on her couch as the memory of what they said to each other played in her head. She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way about him and that it was wrong but there’s a reason that he’s her soulmate. She was in love with him, she was in love with a monster and the more she tried to deny it the worse things got. A knock on her door ripped her from the memory and she got up. She opened the door and there he stood in the pouring rain. Her eyes widened and she expected him to laser her head off after what she said but he didn’t. “I didn’t release those pictures. It was FireCracker. I know you hate me and never want me to be in your life but I love you Y/N. I truly love you and I want more with you. You’re my soulmate for crying out loud. We are bound to be together. But if you truly hate me and think those things about me then tell me now and I will fly away from her and you won’t see me again. I’m willing to let you go if it means that you can be happy again.” She stared up at him as he told her that.

He looked like he meant every word. The rain poured on them as they stared at each other. He went to open his mouth again but she kissed him. It was like a scene from a movie. Her lips were on his and both of them felt complete. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. They didn’t care about the rain. The kiss lasted a long time before they pulled away. “I love you John.” She said and he smiled. For once in his life he smiled and it wasn’t fake. He picked her up causing her to let out a sound of shockness. She laughed as she carried her in her house out of the rain. He cupped her face and looked down at her lips. “My beautiful soulmate, the other half of me. The good half of me.” She smiled and cupped his face. “The bad half of me.” They both laughed. They kissed again but this time it led to something more and like the rest it was amazing but this time there was love in it. 

After it was over the both laid in her bed fully naked and cuddled up together. The silence was nice and peaceful. She felt happy about this and went to kiss him again but her phone went off. She saw a message from Billy that said, “Sorry luv I don’t care that he’s your soulmate. He needs to die and I will kill you too if you get in the way.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Wheels up [S. R]

word count: 4k

summary: Spencer has just been released from prison and things seem to get complicated when Mr. Scratch attacks again. You want to know what's going on with your boyfriend, but when you confront him, you don't expect him to yell at you like he does.

contents: spoilers for season 12-13, directly based on the episode of the same name, established relationship, hurt/comfort, spencer being mean for a moment, mentions of migraines and schizophrenia, apologies, crying and I think that's it.

To say that you were worried was an understatement, because to cut all the tension around the team you would no longer even need a knife but a sword.

You had just gotten over the bitter pill of the fact that your boyfriend had been unjustifiably imprisoned when now Scratch had done this: the ambush, Walker's death, Emily's kidnapping… he just couldn't seem to get enough of this sick game.

“We also never stopped to ask why Scratch was in Honduras in the first place,” Simmons murmured next to you.

García, he and you were trying to review as best as possible the existing research on Peter Lewis that you found in your deceased friend's office to see if you could discover any other details, even if it were the slightest thing that could reveal the whereabouts of your unit leader. 

“Reid'll figure this out. “He's really amazing at this kind of thing.”

Garcia had barely finished saying this when a roar made her jump in her place and look back. Spencer Reid had just furiously thrown a book against the glass windows. You exchanged a worried look with your friend and the three of you silently agreed to go to the meeting room to investigate what was happening.

When the doctor arrived, he began to rant about what he had managed to discover. He talked about hallucinogenic plants found in Honduras and how this was related to Scratch, but you honestly couldn't pay attention to anything he was saying. You could only focus on the purple spots around his eyes, his messy hair jumping every time he said something, the sweat that glistened on his forehead, the erratic and rushed tone of his words and how he constantly rubbed his face or neck. 

Spencer wasn't well. 

You had seen him like this when he had feared he was developing an outbreak of schizophrenia and you had hated every second you had accompanied him to get tested, every second of uncertainty, every time you knew his vision was blurring. And now this was a thousand times worse, because you didn't even know how to help him. Shit, you didn't even know if he wanted your help.

While he was in prison he had refused to see you many times and it had broken your heart every time. He claimed that he didn’t want other prisoners to see you talking to him because they would try to use you to threaten him or that he didn’t want you to see the state he was in because he feared that after seeing the bruises and wounds you would no longer love him.

You respected him, but at the same time you felt that he was building a barrier between you so that in case he couldn't get out of there you wouldn't be tied to a prisoner and could live your life normally. That was why when Emily managed to build a solid case to prove his innocence you felt like you were going to die of joy, and when you saw him leave the prison the first thing you did was run into his arms to make sure he was safe.

But Spencer wasn't, because you knew he had only left there so he could help look for his mother: Diana Reid. During the course of everything you had barely seen him, you two were too busy with your own affairs to have a moment as a couple, but even so when you solved everything you let him go with her; after all they deserved it and you were happy that he had a quiet moment.

But Peter Lewis seemed to have other plans.

“What?” Spencer asked, noticing the way Penelope was looking at him. She looked like she was about to cry behind her blue glasses and you felt sorry for her.

“You threw a book at a window. It was jarring”

“Took me 60 minutes to deduce what should have taken me 60 seconds,” he muttered, clearly sounding furious with himself, “and if Emily dies because I was too slow, I'll be throwing a lot more than books.”

“Spencer” you tried to stop him, but he had already started on his way to the exit.

You always wanted to believe that you were his weak point, he had told you that on more than one occasion. When the team couldn't reason with him, they sent you instead.

Reid will do anything you tell him, Morgan used to say, whether it's convincing him about something silly between friends or something more serious. 

And so it was, because every time he was upset all it took was for you to make flirtatious eyes at him and steal a kiss for him to forget about it.

One day you're going to be my downfall, did you know that? he used to laugh. You're going to ask me to bring the stars down from the sky and I'll have to figure out a way to do it because I don't know how to say you no.

However, this time he didn't seem to understand any reason. He was just walking towards the exit and you were stumbling after him to catch up with his quick pace.

“Spencer,” you insisted, reaching out to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. You didn't expect him to stop abruptly to the point where you collided with his chest, in the middle of the desolate hallway you had arrived at.

“What?”

The sharp tone and angry look he gave you unnerved you slightly, but you managed to clear your throat in search of your voice.

“Honey, it's obvious that you're not fine. You need to rest"

"Rest?" he spat, incredulous. “Do you think I can think of resting when we have a situation like this?”

“That's not what I meant. I'm just saying that no one expects you to be here after what happened, you can at least take a break” 

The sigh he let out was enough for you to know that whatever was coming was surely not good.

“Huh yeah? And what is that break I'm going to take going to cost us? Emily’s life?”

“You know I'm as worried as you are.”

“I'm not worried, I'm sick. I'm sick of this damn case, I'm sick of one thing after another happening to us and I'm sick of failing." 

"I know but…"

“No,” he interrupted you, leaning back when you tried to lay a hand on him. “There's no but. Today I don't need you to tell me what I have to do” 

“I'm not telling you what to do, I'm asking you to take care of yourself. How much sleep have you even had? When was the last time you ate?"

Your tone of voice had come out more recriminating than you intended and if you were already tense, this exchange was not helping at all.

Hearing no response, you continued.

“If you're not going to rest, at least let me help you.”

You wanted him to have the confidence to tell you anything, to be able to explain why he was acting so strange or to at least take two minutes to admit that things weren't right. But Spencer had changed a lot in that prison, because if before it was difficult for him to talk about his feelings, now it seemed practically impossible. You were the only one he dared to do it with and you didn't even think you were that exception to the rule anymore.

If you had known what was to come you would have preferred to stay for the moment he took to take a deep breath.

“Do you know how you can help me? Stepping aside”

“Spencer”

“I'm sick of this too! I'm tired of everyone coming and offering me their faces of compassion and their words of encouragement as if they really understood me. They don't do it, nobody does it, not even you. This is... it is a huge and heavy accumulation that has accumulated for years and years and when I think that it can't be worse, life surprises me by saying that yes, it can be worse. So just shut up, let me do my job, let me catch Scratch and for the love of God stop treating me like I'm a child because on top of all the stress of the case I have to deal with that too and honestly it's killing me” 

Your boyfriend turned around without waiting for a response and a part of you was grateful that was the case, or else he would have seen the tears that had already gathered in your eyes.

You were shocked and felt your face burning with shame, with a hole in your stomach that wouldn't be easy to fill. You were no longer even worried about the man, nor sad, but you felt very different; it was as if Reid had infected you with his anger.

Still with wet cheeks you hurried to walk in the opposite direction, finding yourself at the end of the hallway to meet a very worried Penelope García. Without letting her tell you anything, you asked her to continue with the investigation and the entire time you swallowed your pain.

You knew that Peter Lewis' desperate face when he was hanging from that building and the way you and Luke left him to die would haunt you for a lifetime, but you didn't feel even the slightest bit sorry for it. Even a part of you wished that man had died a slower and perhaps even painful death. Whatever the case, he was gone and you could feel a second of peace at night.

Spencer was right, the most important thing now was to save Emily. Later there would be time to attend to marital discussions.

When you got home you were sweaty, tired, and had a headache that you knew a shower could probably solve, adding a glass of good wine just to be safe. However, clinging to that peace of mind that solving the case had provided you was only a mechanism to postpone confronting the problem that was still latent. You hadn't spoken to Spencer for the rest of the day since your fight in the hallway and although your heart ached you knew this was the prudent thing to do.

Fighting had never had a place in your relationship because both of you were too rational to be carried away by impulse. You had disagreements and arguments, but you had tried to resolve them like adults or you had let the matter rest until you were cool-headed enough to speak calmly. You suspected that right now you were doing the latter, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't be the one who would look for your boyfriend to talk to.

You were hurt by the way he had reacted to your advice, but a part of you also understood that Spencer had been going through too much and that, in some ways, he had some right to want his own space. Or maybe both of you were partly to blame; you for demanding something that didn't belong to you and him for not having said things tactfully enough.

But you couldn't help but miss him. You had spent so many months away from him that you longed to be in his arms, shower him with kisses and hear the soft beat of his heart just to make sure he was real.

Still lost in your thoughts you searched the living room for your briefcase to grab your cell phone, hoping to find something to distract yourself, and upon unlocking it you discovered that you had several missed calls from Spencer. It wasn't like you were ignoring him on purpose, rather it had been an oversight on your part, but when you were about to dial his number a new call was announced on the screen. It was him.

"Hello?"

“There you are,” he murmured, sounding tremendously relieved “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I just left the phone in my briefcase and that's why I didn't hear your calls. I'm sorry"

There was silence for an awkward moment and then he spoke again.

“You went home early.”

"I was tired. I told Emily.”

“Yes, she… he told me, but… Do you think I can see you? I would like to talk to you about something and I don't think it is appropriate to do so on the phone.”

You evaluated your options, looking at everything around you. Spencer was welcome whenever he wanted in your house and you knew a mess wouldn't matter to him, but you were more worried about him noticing the emotional mess, not the physical one.

“Y/N?”

“Yes,” you responded when you heard your name, without thinking too much. “You can come”

Spencer responded with a monosyllable and then he hung up. You were about to get up from the couch to look for something more decent than colorful pajamas when a knock on the door startled you. When there was no response, the person knocked again and when you tiptoed until you reached the peephole, you met a familiar silhouette who was visibly nervous. Apparently the look of confusion on your face when you opened it was enough to express a silent question to Spencer.

“I was in the hallway,” he explained to you. “I didn't want to take long if you said yes.”

You knew you shouldn't give in so easily, but it was hard when Spencer said things like that and he came to your house looking completely disoriented, sad, and regretful.

"Can I come in?" he asked. Although your silences were not with that intention, the truth was that you were making him even more nervous.

"Yeah, you can”

You turned around only when you heard the click of the door closing and leaned against it, waiting for him to say something. You took a moment to observe him and noticed that his clothes were slightly disarrayed, while his hands played with the leather strap that was still across his chest. When he noticed that you were looking at his hands he interpreted it as a sign to get rid of the garment, and so he did.

“Wine?”

“Rossi gave it to me,” you responded, following his gaze to the bottle on the coffee table along with the crystal glass.

Spencer opened his mouth slightly in understanding and then there was silence again.

“I think it's obvious why I'm here, right?” he murmured in a low, cautious voice. You looked at him with sealed lips. “I want to apologize.”

“Yeah?”

"Yes. I know I shouldn't have talked to you like that in the office”

“No, you shouldn't have done it,” you responded sternly “And I accept if you don't want me around, but…”

“No,” he interrupted you, lunging forward to take your hands. You didn't refuse. “It's not that. I want you close, I don't want you to go away”

“I want you close too, Spencer. And I care about you. That's why I tell you things, not because I want to bother you."

“I know not. I was wrong, okay? I was wrong and I had no right to yell at you just because I was upset. And I wasn't upset with you, I was upset about the case and… it was just too much. This is all too much” by this point Spencer’s voice had already broken and your arms were already open for him.

It didn't take much for your boyfriend to start sobbing.

"I'm sorry"

“I know, Spencer.”

"I was an idiot"

“Yes, you certainly were,” you responded, speaking barely above a whisper. You couldn't stop feeling empathy for your boyfriend, but you couldn't ignore your own pain either. “You made me feel so hurt.”

“Forgive me, you know that was not my intention.”

“I just want to see you well. I want you to be safe and help you, but you won't let me do it. And it's okay if you don't want my help, but you can't deny that you need help. We need help. Do you think I wasn't stressed too? Do you think I could care less about finding Emily?”

“I know not. I know…” he sobbed.

“And I understand that we were both going through a hard time but you had no right to treat me like that.”

"You hate me?"

“Of course I don't hate you. I love you very much and I always will, but when something bad happens we don't yell at each other. And I'm not hating you for this, did you hate me that time in Georgia when I went into negotiating in that hostage situation without consulting anyone?

"No. I was very angry and worried about you, but I would never have hated you.”

"You see it? It's the same” you said softly.

You weren't going to torture him with this and you didn't want him to kneel and ask for forgiveness, the message you wanted to give him was already more than clear. And you knew that the simple act of accepting his mistake was something that showed you that he cared about you.

“It won't happen again, I promise.”

“Oh, it may happen again. We are both dumb sometimes and the older we get the grumpier we become” you tried to joke. Although you didn't hear him laugh, you knew that it had lightened the atmosphere. “But talking about it makes him feel better, right? Just like now”

He nodded at your question and then your hand went up to his head to stroke his hair. The contact seemed to melt him against you, as if with this you had also given free rein to his crying. You knew he probably wasn't going to tell you about the horrors he'd experienced in prison yet, but maybe this moment could be a start; you were being honest with each other and after all that was what was important.

Spencer calmed down after a long while and when you separated you made sure to get him some napkins so he could wipe his tears and blow his nose.

“You're seriously not upset at me?”

“No,” you assured him, shaking your head at the same time. You approached him and raised your hands to his cheeks to hold him gently. “It's okay, Spencer. I would be upset if you hadn't apologized."

“I wanted to do it sooner, but I knew that maybe you needed time to… you know, not want to strangle me”

“You're always so smart,” you complimented him and this time he did laugh.

The man's hands were experimentally placed on your waist and upon noticing your approving smile he pulled you a little closer to him until you collided against his chest. The puffiness in his eyes didn't stop him from giving you a sweet look.

“I haven't kissed you since I came back,” he observed absently and after thinking about it for a second you realized it was true.

You hadn't even kissed him. You had gone three months without seeing him and you still hadn't had time to kiss him.

You opened your mouth slightly, but before you could say anything he had already leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. With the help of your hand sliding to the back of his neck you deepened the contact and Spencer wasted no time, wrapping his thin arms around your torso.

Even if you didn't want to admit it, you had already forgotten how good it felt to kiss him and amid everything you thought that you wished you could capture that moment in a jar to turn to it when necessary. Because after everything that had happened that day you really needed that moment of peace with him.

His lips were slightly parted, but your gentle tongue took care of moistening them and when the air began to fail you just let him go for a second, kissing him again when you breathed enough. Your kisses were sweet and soft enough to dissipate the rest of the guilt that remained in your lover's body.

"Better?" you asked once you two were satisfied. It took him a moment to compose himself from the intoxication of your kiss to be able to answer you.

"Yes, I feel better"

“How is Diana, by the way?” you said quietly, leaning back a little to look him in the eyes.

“She is fine, I managed to admit her to a sanatorium before García called me. It will only be for tonight, tomorrow I will look for where she can stay permanently” he answered you, rubbing his tired face with a hand “I think it would be best for us to return to Las Vegas”

“You should go to her now” it hurt you to give him that advice, but you knew that he must have other priorities now. One of your hands kindly caressed his bicep, feeling how he had lost considerably in weight.

“You don't want me to stay here?”

“I don't want you to feel obligated. I know Diana needs you more than me."

“She'll be fine today,” he murmured. Apparently he wanted to be with you more than you thought. “I left my number and she'll be asleep right now. As much as he wants to deny it, I think… that she is better off with professionals”

“So you want to stay here?”

You had sounded more excited than you intended and just because of the sparkle in your eyes he felt the urge to steal another kiss from you.

"Of course I want to. I missed you so much, I just want to feel you close to me."

“I can stay only if you promise me two things.”

“What is it?”

“We’re going to try to sleep,” you asked him, passing the tip of your index fingers under his eyes. “I don't like that look at all and I think you could use some rest. I have a comfortable bed waiting just for you.”

“I'd love that,” he smiled weakly. “What's the second thing?”

“Tomorrow you will let me cook you something delicious before we go to your mother.”

The thought of you spoiling him so much made him smile.

"Done deal"

You carefully guided him to your room and once there you kissed him again. Spencer felt like he was going to cry again when he noticed that you still had the change of clothes that he had left in your closet over three months ago and the soft fabric along with the familiar scent filled his chest with joy.

You two snuggled under the warmth of the sheets and you made sure to kiss your lover's face countless times while your hands touched every piece of skin you had within reach, trying to show him that he didn't have to worry about anything; you wanted him to know that you loved him and that he was somewhere safe.

"Are you okay?"

You spoke in the middle of the darkness, while Spencer had his full weight on top of yours. His nose rubbed slightly against your bare skin and he found it necessary to leave another kiss there.

“I am now.”

And even if it only lasted for a brief moment, Spencer knew that nothing compared to the peace and tranquility of being with you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @instabull @rhiannonhippiegirl @r-3dlips @missabsey @olivia’s-25

[samiswifey]

Happy To See Her

Paring: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warning: none

Summary: just an overeager girlfriend reader happy to see Sam.

From a young age Sam has known that she wasn't really wanted. Her mother never liked her and when she found the diary that because way more obvious to her. The man Sam knew as her father just up and left her without saying a word, leaving her absolutely heart broken. The only one who really wanted her around was Tara, but she ruined that when she just left. Yes things are good now with them but she's still afraid that one day Tara's going to decide that she too doesn't want Sam and eventually will leave her too. Like some kind of sick Karmic justice.

Today has been exhausting for Sam. People were a lot more vocal with their hate toward her and it was starting to get to her. She was sad, and quite frankly hurt by the hateful words. She usually didn't let people's words get to her but this was hard to ignore when they're in your face everyday. Where ever you go you get hate and Sam was tired of it. She wanted peace and for people to leave her alone, but unfortunately she knew that because of her status as a junior Loomis that was never going to happen. She was stuck getting hate forever.

Walking inside the apartment she barely put her things down before she had two arms wrapped tightly around her in a loving hold. She didn't even have to look to know who it was.

"Sammy! I am so happy you're back!" You gushed excitedly as you looked at her. "How was your day baby?"

Sam couldn't help but smile at how happy you were to see her. It made her heart swell with absolute adoration and love because of the fact that you were genuinely happy to see her.

"Uh, things were good babe. Nothing particularly interesting happened today." She said softly.

You looked at her with a wide smile before dragging her to the couch and making her sit down before running off. You said nothing before running into the kitchen to grab what you had made for her. It wasn't much but you knew that Sam would appreciate it.

"A hot meal for the hottest girl I know!" You said as you handed her a plate of food. "Enjoy."

Sam had just finished eating after work but she definitely wasn't about to let this go to waste. Especially after you worked for hard to make dinner for her. It was sweet and the food looked amazing so that was a bonus.

"Oh my gosh! Baby this is amazing!"

You smiled at how honest she was. You weren't a cook, in fact you couldn't cook, but knowing that Sam enjoyed what you made had you smiling proudly at the fact that she likes your food.

"I'm glad you like it. It took some time but I think I pulled it off." You said proudly.

Sam pulled you in for a tight hug and kissed the top of your head. "You did amazing baby and I am so proud of you." She said softly. "So proud baby."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam was sitting on the couch watching you do a puzzle that you had discovered. It looked pretty simple but you've been at it for an hour now and you seemed to be very entertained by it. She didn't really understand the hype about puzzles but she did enjoy watching you have fun.

"Baby how are you not bored yet?" Sam asked.

You giggled as you glanced at her. "Because it's so fun! I think I'm close to putting the whole puzzle together. I just need some time." You said. Sam said nothing and just sat back and watched as you continued with your puzzle.

With a sweet smile on her face Sam takes out her phone and records you. She didn't know why but she wanted to capture this moment. It wasn't anything super significant, but you look at peace with the world around you and to her that was reason enough to take a video of you.

"Sammy quick take a picture! Take a picture!" You shouted excitedly.

Sam chuckled but did what she was asked and took a picture. "Why did you want a picture?" She asked. "Because I want to remember this day forever! How I actually completed a puzzle I started and didn't forget about it halfway through." You told her. Sam nodded and decided to take another picture from a better angle.

Carefully placing the puzzle on the table you smiled again as you took another picture. You knew you had enough but you were just so excited that you actually finished that you had to take another one just for the memories.

"Sam! Y/n! We need your help." Tara yelled as she walks in.

"Yes please tell Tara here that the Babadook is a bad movie." Mindy says.

While you were confused Sam knew exactly what was going on. "I just don't get how you can hate something that you haven't even finished watching," she laughs. "You put it on once, turned it off halfway and never watched it again." She said. Mindy nodded at that. "Yeah because I didn't like it." She said in an obvious tone. "I thought you knew that," she added. Tara rolled her and turned to look at you. "So what do you think Y/N? Is the Babadook a bad movie like Mindy says?" She asks.

"Oh I've never seen it." You said easily.

Both girls looked at you like you just kicked a puppy. "What?" They asked. "You've never seen it?" You shook your head. "Nope. Never. I'm not a fan of those movies." You said. Mindy was confused when you said that. "What do you mean?"

You shrugged "scary movies. I'm not into them after my cousin made me watch Friday The 13th when I was twelve and it gave me nightmares for two months." You said. "So I don't watch them."

Tara knotted her eyebrows together as she looks at you with confusion written all over her face. "But you know the Stab franchise," she points out. "So you obviously know horror movies." She argued. You nodded in agreement with that. "Yes I know Stab, but I have never seen Stab." You tell her. "Just because I have heard of something or something is popular enough to talk about doesn't mean that I've seen them," you explained.

"If not horror then what do you like?" Mindy asked.

"Musicals!" You and Sam said at the same time, which made you both giggle.

While Mindy was fake gagging at the cuteness, Tara was looking at her sister. "How did you know that?" She asked. Sam shrugged with a smile on her face. "It's pretty easy to decipher. She practically explodes when a new music is announced." She said. Both Tara and Mindy nodded before turning to you.

"So what is your favorite musical then?" Tara asked.

You smiled "In The Heights." You said easily. "The music and cinematography is amazing! Also Vanessa is the best character with the best voice," you gushed excited. Mindy laughed at that. "Yeah we already knew that. I mean she looks like Sam so of course she's your favorite." She teased, which made you blush.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today was a long day for Sam and she was only halfway through her shift at the new coffee shop. She felt like she couldn't catch a break today and it was frustrating. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong and she was angry. People were more rude today and several coworkers of hers unfortunately found out about her father and were using the new information to antagonize her. Today was a bad day and she really couldn't wait to go home.

Taking her break Sam sat alone with her eyes closed as she tries to calm herself down. She was still talking to her therapist and they have been working on ways for her to relax when she's feeling stressed or angry. So far it's working.

After her break things smoothed out for Sam. She felt more relaxed and working was less stressful for her. She still couldn't wait to go home, but for now things were good. She just hopes that they stay that way.

You stood in the kitchen with your phone opened as you repeatedly looked over the recipe you wanted to make. It was a pasta dish and it seems simple enough to make but you still wanted to make sure that you had everything correct that you needed. Cooking was never your strong suit but you tried. However, today was special and you needed everything to go well today. It just had to go well.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Mindy asked.

"Yeah that doesn't seem right." Chad said softly.

You sighed and bowed your head. "Honestly? I'm not even sure anymore." You whispered. Tara gave both Mindy and Chad a look before turning to you. "Y/N, everything is going to be ok. You have the ingredients and I am sure we can find a tutorial on this." She said. Your eyes snapped opened and you quickly grabbed your phone and typed in the recipe. "I think I have an idea."

With things finally coming together you felt way more relaxed and could finally go get ready. Tonight was special and you wanted everything to go perfectly and be perfect. All of this was for Sam and you really hope she likes it.

Walking inside the apartment it was pretty dark. The only thing giving Sam any light was the two candles on either end of the table. They sat by two plates that was loaded with pasta and a nice salad. It was really cute!

"Sammy! You're home!"

Two arms were wrapped tightly around Sam's body and her face was quickly littered in kisses from her very happy girlfriend. "Hi, baby. Did you do all of this?" She asked. You nodded as you pulled back but never let go. "Yes! I wanted to do something nice for our date night." You tell her.

Sam's eyes lit up when she heard that and without saying anything she kissed you. It was a very needy kiss that was filled with all the love and passion she could muster. She didn't know why but she just felt like she had to show you just how much she loves you. She really loves you.

Pulling away Sam rests her forehead against yours and smiled at you. "This is amazing baby! Thank you." She said softly. You smiled proudly. "You're welcome honey!"

The date was filled with laughter and love as you both shared stories about your day. Sam compliment your food and told you how beautiful you looked, which made you blush as you shyly thanked her. It was a nice night that was crashed by Tara, Chad and Mindy because they wanted you and Sam to watch some new horror movie that was out. Sam was ready to defend you and say no but you decided that you wanted to watch. So you guys did.

You hated the movie but having Sam right next to you, whispering how after you guys would watch that musical you liked made everything better. You and Sam both shared a look that told you each how lucky the other was to have each other. You both knew that the bond you shared was real and the love you had would never go away because you both were head over heels for one another.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Can we get a fic with John Hancock with a shy, innocent virgin f!reader? I feel like he would just go feral with corruption/breeding kink and possessive/jealousy?! Like just wanting to ruin her for anyone else and mark her from other ghouls. Bonus for fluff as well. I love the idea of him falling for her softness and trying so hard to be a gentleman out of respect, thinking she deserves better while internally he’s thinking the nastiest filthiest shit.

(Also maybe you could do a Howard version sometime? I know you get a ton of requests so if not it’s fine, but I'm curious how he would be too) Either way, thank you ❤️ your blogs amazing and I appreciate it!

Carnal Lessons

Pairing: John Hancock x Virgin!Female Reader

Word Count: 19,965 (yes, for real)

Warnings: very sexual pining, loss of virginity, corruption kink, reader's first "real" orgasm, absolutely perverted thoughts, mutual and consensual drug use, shotgunning, discussion of addiction, canon-typical violence and bigotry, descriptions of wounds, mild exhibitionism, finger fucking, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), cock piercings, possessive sex, manhandling, hair pulling, breeding kink, slightly dishonest creampie, jealousy, self-hating John.

Notes: It's finally here! This thing absolutely refused to free me from its clutches, so I'm incredibly happy to have it all finished up. Thanks for the submission, Anon, and thanks for your patience while I worked through the forty-ish page fit it induced in me. I tried SO hard to keep this to a reasonable length (as I said, there's almost never a time when I'm not shooting to keep to around 5,000-7,000 words), I swear, but this idea really needed some room to develop. Please enjoy the first long-form piece on the blog that doesn't feature Cooper Howard in the lead role! As for the idea of doing a version of something like this with him in the future, someone else sent in a very similar ask that's been earmarked for just that.

Reader is a former vault dweller but is explicitly not Nora/the Sole Survivor. Post-Institute destruction.

John McDonough had always been more accepting of vault dwellers than most folks. A certain curiosity towards those who came from such different circumstances than him in youth had slowly grown over the years into some form of sympathy, even pity. There were those who looked down on the people who spent their lives hiding away in those armored chambers, saw them as craven and weak, but John found himself sympathetic to anyone who valued safety and stability for themselves and those they truly cared about. A hard-lived life of barely scraping by and sleeping in the gutter for years had granted him a thankfully varied perspective of the world around him.

When you'd first stumbled your way into his life, he had been very understanding of your plight; after all, you weren't the first poor schmuck that had left their vault, their safe little settlement, only to discover just how truly dangerous the streets and crumbling high-rises of Boston could be. You'd arrived in rough shape, though not the roughest he'd seen by far. Hell, you'd even managed to limp your way into Goodneighbor's front gates before collapsing, a bit of fortitude that had almost certainly saved your life.

Naturally, as the mayor, word of the collapsed, bloodied vault dweller laid out on the ground outside Kleo's had filtered up to him rather quickly, and his innate curiosity had gotten the best of him. Fahrenheit had tucked the information in between a few other pieces of news, seemingly hoping to keep it from garnering too much interest from her friend and boss.

"I think I'm gonna go check it out." he replied, rising from the rickety couch where he'd been perched, taking in his second-in-command's daily brief.

"I know you, Hancock. Maybe you shouldn't." she said, eyeballing him.

"I have no absolutely idea what you mean by that." he retorted haughtily before disappearing down the stairs and out the door. He made his way across Scollay Square, nodding to and greeting a few folks who spoke to him, cutting a wiggling path to the Rex where he'd been told they'd set you up in a room to rest after patching you up as best as they could. Seeking out the room number he'd been given at the desk, he was surprised when he poked his head around the corner to find Daisy still hovering over you a bit.

"Heard we might have a new friend. How're they doing?" he asked, leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets. The merchant turned, smiling politely at him and straightening her jacket.

"Hey, Hancock. She's doing much better now, fortunately. Poor thing will probably sleep for quite a while, though. I'm shocked she made it through." she said, taking a half-step back to reveal your unconscious form on the bed. "Tough for a vaultie. Though, I suppose I said the same about Nora."

He hadn't fully heard a single thing she'd said after she'd stepped away, completely distracted by the realization of what Fahr had actually meant. When she'd had told him she thought it was best he didn't come down, he'd assumed it was a joking remark about how he'd disappeared for months the last time a vaultie had popped into their lives, but now he truly understood what she'd been getting at when she'd remarked about how she "knew him".

You were breathtakingly gorgeous, even battered, limp, and filthy like you were. Soft in all the right ways, from your statuesque face to what parts of your body he could see unobscured by the old sheets. Your vault suit was unzipped and yanked down to the waist to expose the dirty tank beneath, the swell of your breasts rising and falling gently as you slept. Your skin and hair were so perfect looking under the sweat and grime that he felt himself overwhelmingly drawn to caress you somehow, his palms itchy. He'd been around the block a time or two, and he'd met plenty of gorgeous men and women, but something about you was immediately captivating, almost haunting.

After a moment, he came back to himself, making abashed eye contact with Daisy once more to find that she was studying him closely. Of course, the older woman knew him well enough to figure he didn't have ill intent towards you, necessarily, but she recognized that glint in his eye as he gazed at you, and it made her hesitant to leave the room before he did, her instincts too strong to be ignored. Hancock, for all his vices and shortcomings, was quite adept at reading a room and quickly picked up on her thoughts.

"Well, I'll let her rest. If you see her up and around later, send her my way so we can chat, yeah? I'm sure she's got interesting stories." he said, trying his best to sound lax and casual. The other ghoul nodded silently, already turning her attention back to you as he turned to leave. Rounding the corner right out of the Rex, he ducked into a narrow alley and lit a smoke, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes with a sigh, trying his best to turn his mind to other topics. It had taken longer than he'd care to admit, but he finally succeeded and returned to the day's business.

When you'd eventually awoken, he'd been very pleasantly surprised to find you chatty and rather accepting of your surroundings for someone who had lived underground their whole life. You were kind, agreeable, though shaken by your ordeal, obviously; he guessed that you'd likely seen plenty of other wild shit on your way in, and that a semi-regular (if a little unsavory) community of folks who mostly just happened to be ghouls wouldn't be that high on the list of things that would trip you up badly. Incredibly thankful for the assistance you'd been given when you'd first showed up, you quickly proved him correct, eager to work, to help out, to find a place where you could fit in.

Early on, you did a lot of running around for Daisy and Kleo, searching for things that had been requested from them, but you'd quickly grown tired of prospecting and shifted to more community-based work, something that only endeared you to him more. You mentioned casually at one point that you'd been something called an "irrigation technician" back home, so it was no surprise that he often found you knee-deep in dirt, picking at weeds, evaluating soil and water quality like it was second nature to you.

Everyone around the neighborhood loved you, almost too much for his liking. More and more, he found himself asking you to do completely made up tasks, or things that were already an assigned job, just to make sure you weren't spending too much time getting close to someone else when he was too busy to hang out with you. It left a bad taste in his mouth to think that he might miss out on the chance to get close to you because of nothing but circumstance when it had been circumstance that brought you into his life to begin with.

Eventually, he'd gotten a bit of that familiar wandering itch, deciding to pack up and make the trip to visit Nora in Sanctuary. He'd invited you to come along with him, both interested to see what his two favorite vaulties would think of one another and hoping for an opportunity to get more personal with you. Besides, he wasn't naive. He couldn't leave you behind and expect you to still be available when he came back, that he knew; Edward Deegan had been in town far more often since the Cabots had left, asking around for you more than once, and he knew that the older man had a certain reputation...not that he had room to judge.

He also knew that he wasn't the only one to worry about.

Thankfully, you'd agreed to come along, openly eager to see more of the countryside and secretly eager to spend more time with John himself. His plan to get closer to you ultimately worked, and far better than he'd expected, but not for the reasons he'd anticipated.

The trip from Goodneighbor to Sanctuary wasn't terribly long, a day or two at most depending on your urgency. In fact, travel times all over had seemingly reduced as the roads had grown slowly safer, busier with the increased presence of the Minutemen and those who felt aligned with them. He had even noticed several trading caravans, though heavily guarded ones, making their way south, something he hadn't seen in years.

Unfortunately, he'd gotten a little lax, perhaps a bit distracted towards the very end of the trip and the two of you had been ambushed just as you'd entered the outskirts of Concord. He hadn't anticipated raiders so close to Sanctuary; in his overconfidence, a small pack of them had managed to get the drop on the pair of you, nailing him with a single round to his shooting arm from some distance before quickly hemming you in from uphill. Fortunately, he was both quick-healing and more than familiar with fighting in pain; his resilience, combined with your own strength and ability to pick several off yourself at a distance, quickly thinned their numbers, leaving each of you dealing with one or two stragglers.

Hancock had been retrieving his knife from the windpipe of the final one standing against him when he saw you fall out of the corner of his eye, your weapon tumbling a few feet away across the split, buckled asphalt. He immediately threw himself towards you, sizing up the burly raider who loomed over you as you attempted to roll out of his reach. The hulking motherfucker pivoted on one foot towards you, crushing the arm that was reaching out for your fumbled pistol under his filthy boot and snapping the bone with a sickening, audible crack. The agonizing cry that left you was sharp and heartbreaking.

Somehow, he'd teleported the ten feet or so that he needed to close the gap between him and the man raising his laser rifle towards you. He couldn't consciously recall a time when he'd moved with such urgency. The blow he delivered to the back of the guy's head with the butt of his shotgun caved in his skull cleanly and dropped him near instantly like a sack of rocks, but John still unloaded two shells into what was left for the satisfaction, his entire body vibrating with adrenaline and worry as he turned to you.

You were either attempting to sit up or curling upwards in pain, neither of which seemed especially comfortable as your mouth laid open in a silent scream. He acted as quickly as possible, gently moving your guarding arm away from the injured one to examine it. Thankfully, the bone hadn't pierced the skin, but the angle your hand sat at made his stomach roll, along with the way you began to whimper and hyperventilate. Wanting to move you out of the open before he administered one of the doctor's bags he kept with him, but distrustful of the surrounding houses, he scooped you up into his arms, wincing along with you as you cradled your limp limb against your chest. Holding his breath almost all the way, he trudged up the hill until he came across the Red Rocket truck stop, settling you gently on the old work bench.

"I'm real sorry, but this is probably gonna hurt, kid." he said, allowing himself the far-too-intimate gesture of pushing your hair away from your face, cradling your wet cheek for a split second. "When we get to Sanctuary, we'll get you something for the pain, alright?"

You nodded, eyes clenching tight as you extended the injured extremity towards him as best as you could. He was as gentle as possible patching you, uncomfortable with the idea of leaving you suffering completely, even for just the short walk across the bridge and up the hill. Eerily quiet despite what he was certain was fairly great pain, you let him do whatever he needed.

It had taken longer than he'd have liked to carry you to the short rest of the way to Sanctuary, his pace encumbered by his fear of jostling or mishandling you.

"It's fine. I can walk the rest of the way." you'd protested halfheartedly, your unmarred arm wrapped tight around his neck as you held yourself up as best as you could. However, you made no move to extract yourself from him. He'd pointedly ignored the handful of inquisitive looks the two of you had received as he'd carried you past the guard posts at the end of the bridge, quickly seeking out the settlement's little clinic building.

Nora, mayor in her own way, had almost immediately heard of your arrival, and found him smoking on the crumbling curb outside, staring off at the old gas station on the horizon absentmindedly.

"Is your lady friend alright?" she asked, lowering herself down beside him and holding out a semi-cool beer.

He smiled at her, almost full-strength, and reached out to warmly shake her hand. His friend looked a little older now, her time in the Commonwealth and her mountain of accrued responsibilities taking their own toll, but she appeared wiser (and more content) for it.

"She'll be fine. If I'm honest, I probably didn't need to rush her up here like that, but, eh. I panicked a little." he replied, cheeks warm as she appraised him with that knowing look. She didn't dig further, thankfully one of his few friends who had ever mastered the art of discretion. John was glad to see her, certainly, and tried his best to focus on their conversation as they caught up a bit, each sipping their drink, but his mind was inside with you.

Soon, she was pulled away, but promised to check in again before disappearing down the street, leaving John as he had been: worrying away on the stoop.

After the doctor had checked you over, fully re-set your arm, and given you another stimpack, along with a sling, the ghoul had helped you to a cot in an empty room at the back of one of the semi-restored houses. He'd offered you Med-X, eager to alleviate the pain he could see lingering, but you'd just shaken your head wordlessly, a nervous glint in your eyes as you sized the syringe up, your breathing still rather shallow and shaky as you sweated lightly.

"You're worrying me here, sister. I'm begging ya to just take something. I know you're healing up, but..."

"I'm fine, John. Really. I just need to rest a few more hours and it'll be healed enough to not hurt so badly." you huffed, resettling your limbs along the bed to allow him some room to sit beside you. You calling him by his real name, the one no one ever called him, didn't even really register.

"I've got some booze." he offered, embarrassed at how desperate he felt to get you to somehow accept what little help he felt he had to offer. "Or weed? Would you try that? I know you're hurting."

There was a different sort of hesitation in your gaze at that, your arm still cradled close in your sling as you stroked over it absentmindedly, protectively with your good hand.

"I really do just need to tough it out a bit longer." you replied, though your tone was a little softer. "Plus, I don't like to drink, and I don't exactly know how to smoke weed."

He chuckled at that, relaxing just a little.

"Not much to know. Inhale, hold, exhale." he said, smiling warmly at you. "I've got a joint if you wanna try it."

You were quiet for a long moment, taking a deep, steadying breath in the cooling twilight.

"Are you gonna light it?" you asked.

And he did, taking a puff or two himself to get the thing burning properly before handing it to you, showing you how to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger and watching with rapt attention as you lifted it to your own mouth.

"Easy!" he said as you pulled hard, the end of the joint glowing bright as it burned. Unsurprisingly, you began to cough wildly a moment later, cheeks wet and shoulders shaking hard as you hacked and gasped, desperately pushing the smoldering little cigarette back at him so you could wipe at your face. Resisting the urge to chuckle at the relatability in your tear-streaked mug, he patted your shoulder gently. Taking another puff himself, he leaned against the wall behind him, giving you a few minutes to collect yourself and find your voice once more.

"Wow." you said eventually,

"Feeling it?" he asked.

"Definitely. Also, that really hurt."

He tittered a bit at your glassy-eyed look, genuine relief washing over him as he took in your relaxing posture and slow, even breaths. Knowing that you wouldn't fess up to still hurting, he didn't ask your status, taking comfort in the knowledge that you were at least somewhat relieved of your pain as he fully settled in beside you, sitting up with his back against the moldering wallpaper.

"If only my friends back home could see me now." you chuckled, playing absentmindedly with your fingers. His stomach dropped a bit at that, always frozen in captivation and fear of stopping you somehow when you got to talking about home in any substantial way, which was so rare.

"Can I ask why you left? Of course, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." he asked, each word an uneasy labor to force out as he fiddled with one of his rings.

You were quiet for a moment, just long enough that his retraction was ready to launch off of his tongue when you finally responded.

"They wanted me to get married and I wasn't ready." you explained simply, following up after a moment with a very hesitant "Well, it wasn't just that. They wanted me to get married and start immediately popping out babies and stuff. Had a guy picked out for me and everything. I just couldn't go through with it. It didn't feel right. You know?"

John faltered for a moment, genuinely unsure if he did know what you meant. Sure, he was familiar with the feeling of being expected to fall into a certain role and failing, or rejecting the system that wanted to put you into that box completely. He knew what it was like to feel at odds with those who felt they knew what was best for you. But, through all of that, he'd been able to make his own choices, even if he sometimes wished he could go back and make different ones.

"I know what it's like to feel like you need to just get away, for sure." he replied after a hopefully-not-too-long pause.

You nodded slowly.

"So, uh...did you leave, or did you run away?"

There was a long moment of silence, and you didn't look at him when you answered, your voice just a little bit quieter.

"Closer to the second thing."

He nodded, hesitantly placing his hand on your knee in a gesture of comfort, smiling when you placed your own hand over his.

"Was he ugly?" he joked after a moment, earning a gentle laugh from you.

"Nah. It wasn't him. It was all of them, you know? And me, I guess." you replied, eyeballing the stars through a hole in the roof.

"Yeah, I hear you."

He held the joint out to you once more, but you declined, directing the thing away with a smooth turn of your hand.

"You sure you don't want some more? One hit isn't very much, even if it feels strong right now. Probably won't last long."

"I don't wanna hog all your fancy drugs." you responded facetiously, grinning just a little. "Plus, I think I'll literally hack up my own windpipe if I take another drag off of that thing. It's so..."

"...hot-feeling? I could shotgun it to you." he offered, trying to ignore the way his cock stirred at the confused look on your innocent little face. "It means you inhale my exhale. Makes it way less harsh. Only if you wanna, though."

"And it still works? The, uh, smoke, I mean?"

"Yep." he smirked.

"Hmm. Yeah, let's try it." you agreed, much calmer than before as you sat up a little taller and scooted close to him, your hips touching as he filled his lungs with smoke once more.

"Alright," he explained, words strained as he held his breath, "put your lips to mine and take a deep breath in."

You leaned in closer to do as you were told, you cheeks dusted with a tinge of blush as he closed the short distance between the two of you. Softly, he touched his mouth to your own, holding his lips open as he slowly, steadily exhaled. Hesitating for a moment, you eventually caught on, and surprisingly managed to take a rather generous inhale.

What surprised him more, though, was when he moved to pull away and you leaned in again, only to kiss him in full, your lips wrapping around what remained of his own instead of just sitting there. It began as a lingering peck, but after you pulled back a few inches to exhale, coughing much less this time around, he leaned in again, hand moving to cup the back of your head as he held you tight. You'd slept close to one another before, but that was the first night you'd chosen to sleep in the same bed, cuddled close and both content.

From that moment, things began to genuinely progress between the two of you, your relationship quickly blooming from a warm friendship with occasional flirtatious banter into something that was becoming quite serious, at least in terms of the relationships John had had in the past.

You were a flirt, but not in the forward, raunchy way he himself often was. No, you were a much sweeter, more playful sort of tease, and while he quickly found your affection high up on the long list of things he had a major fixation for, it also hampered him in its own way. It made him feel like such a creep to make more forward advances towards you when your own 'moves' tended to be more romantic in nature; hand-holding, soft kisses, chaste cuddles. Granted, he tried to keep in mind that your lack of experience may have made you less inclined to start or say things, less confident to put yourself out there; you often came across as eager, but nervous. He kept that observation to himself.

You were also a rather remarkable person, driven by how much you wanted to help people and make the world you'd found a better place. He found it almost funny how you tried your best to make it clear that you weren't one of those vault dwellers, though you sort of inherently were. As much as you liked to deny it, to insist that all of the "we must rebuild and lead America when we retake the surface" talk they'd drilled into your head where you'd grown up hadn't taken root, he saw some of it in you, in the way you were so eager to help run things, start up new settlements, provide assistance with improvements that would make life better for everyone.

Perhaps you'd decided to embody those values in a different way than you were taught, but it certainly came across as leadership behavior to him. Nora must've seen it, too, the two of you becoming quickly and warmly acquainted, you eager to help her out in any way you could and her with plenty of tasks that could use more hands. One of those tasks, funnily enough, was deciding what to do with the still-untouched Red Rocket. Too small to really be a proper settlement, it was decided that it would be emptied out and sized up for stability and how easy it would be to wire the place. He also insisted on a new guard tower at that end of the bridge to keep an eye on any Concord stragglers. Though, not too close to the building.

The two of you spent the next week or so cleaning the place out together, hauling away rotted junk and evaluating the old building's guts and foundation, which were pleasantly intact overall, much to his surprise. Nora stopped by when she could patch together any significant time alone from the few minutes here and there that she often had between tasks, offering assistance and extra supplies to stock the place up with. Knowing her, she'd long seen right through him and his feelings towards you; his suspicions were all but confirmed when she remarked that it was "quite the little home the two of you were building together".

Occasionally, she would bring Shaun along with her, introducing him to you after a couple of months of feeling you out. For the sake of his cherished friend, John treated the boy as normally as possible, even playing with him a bit when he requested it. But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to let go of his lingering wariness of the whole thing. Yes, he was happy that Nora had her son back in whatever form it may be; he had seen firsthand how devastated she had been without him.

After all, that was precisely why he found himself so suspicious when she'd told him about the young synth boy. John had never been a parent, himself, but he knew Nora's heart, knew how deeply her love for her child lived inside her; it was exactly the sort of loss that could be easily exploited. She insisted that the Institute wasn't something they needed to worry about any longer, but he sometimes questioned her confidence in this. The facility itself may have been gone, but there was no way of knowing that all of their plans and orchestrations had been annihilated alongside it. Hell, if they'd been worth their supposed salt, they'd have been smart enough to guarantee that exactly that wasn't possible, that they would still be able to continue their work somehow. Shaun had showed up at too perfect a time, in his mind, and for that, he constantly kept one eye on the child who seemed to genuinely like him, calling him "Uncle John".

It was rather clear to him that you noticed the wall he kept up between himself and the kid, but you didn't prod much into it, and for that he was grateful.

The weeks continued to pass by, the Red Rocket becoming your sort of base; close enough to Sanctuary to be useful, far enough away to have some privacy for yourselves.

"We should really get you some actual armor and people clothes, y'know." he said one evening, reclining back onto the little bedroll he'd been using while you two searched for a proper bed and staring hard at your ass as you rummaged through your things. "That suit might protect you alright, but it's like wearing a target on your back."

And it's way too distracting to me, frankly, he finished silently, perfectly envisioning himself accidentally wandering off a cliff to his demise because he was too fixated on your various assets waggling around in that damn suit.

Fortunately for him, you actually agreed, long past growing tired of the perception of naivete and vulnerability that the suit drew to you. Though, he knew you were rather attached to the thing, one of the few slivers of home you carried with you always. You feared it being stolen if you left it behind somewhere, and he understood, helping you rig up a really good hiding spot in the Red Rocket ceiling tiles. The clothes you eventually started to wear around were, thankfully, less well-fitted than the vault suit, scrounged up pairs of jeans and threadbare tees, old button-ups and road leathers you tried your best to keep oiled and stretched.

However, when you felt truly comfortable (and weren't helping with some of the more intense work around the settlements), you'd often wear one of a couple of dresses you'd managed to trade for or scrounge up in your adventures, button-up things that hung well past your knee, but took the "form fitting" issue the vault suit had and multiplied it. Not only did the things emphasize every one of your sweet curves just the right way, they exposed the soft, strong flesh of your arms and legs, the line of your elegant throat as it disappeared into the swell of your breasts. As much as he loved to see you dressed so nicely, almost otherworldly beautiful in just how much you didn't fit into the dingy, decrepit background, it made it difficult for him to focus on any one task. Frankly, it made it difficult to focus on anything but the thought of hiking the flowing skirt up around your hips and having his way with you.

Simultaneously, it made him hypervigilant of exactly how others carried themselves when they were around you.

It had been irritating enough back home to have to deal with the Neighborhood Watch guys tugging you aside to whisper little bits of info to you, Ham's gaze lingering on you as you two passed into the entrance of The Third Rail, the number of people who had always wanted to talk or dance with you when you got inside. Caravan guards and traders trying their hardest to tail the pair of you on the road, pursuing your attention hard.

But once the two of you had begun spending a great deal of time around Sanctuary, the problem only intensified, increasing directly with the number of smoothskin men around who obviously did not see him as any sort of threat. Though he couldn't quite determine if the way they wrote him off was intended to be more emasculating or generally dehumanizing, John remained on his best behavior, both for your sake and Nora's, unwilling to embarrass either of you by association. Regardless, he was infinitely relieved when the former lawyer began to ask the two of you to start running errands to other nearby settlements. Sure, his patience was often tested again as soon as you reached whatever your new destination was, but the alone time in-between stops was incredibly regenerating for him, eager to get his hands on you whenever he could.

This was particularly true at night.

Often the settlements you were visiting weren't all that far away, but the two of you would usually choose to bed down for the evening somewhere on the roadside before turning up, both of you giddy at the unfettered access to one another, the privacy to discuss and say whatever you wanted. More than anything, though, he was desperate to feel you, to kiss you, to have you cuddled up against his chest the way he liked, and he was too nervous to paint you with the scarlet letter of ghoul alliance to be all that handsy during the day. When the sun fell, though, you were all his.

At no point did you explicitly tell him that you were a virgin. You didn't really need to, frankly; the way your lips and hands fumbled nervously against him, your lack of confidence to lead in this single situation, communicated all he needed to know. He wasn't especially surprised, anyway. The place you came from sounded pretty buttoned-up the way you described it, but you were also just a fairly guarded person in general; warm, friendly, but not overly eager to let anyone too close without a thorough sizing up. Fortunately for him, he somehow fit the specs.

It didn't take long for the two of you to start properly fooling around, much to John's partial chagrin. He hated to feel like he was rushing you, but at the same time, his self control completely evaporated into thin air the moment you stripped down to your skivvies to relax. He'd been hooked on you from that first kiss and the withdrawals were some of the heaviest he'd felt.

The first time he watched you come apart on his fingers, it took every ounce of strength in his irradiated body to not pin you down and fuck you until you literally couldn't handle any more. It was the most erotic display he'd ever taken in, the way your exposed chest flushed and heaved, your big, wide eyes brimmed with overwhelmed tears. As you'd crested into your peak, his hand buried in your panties while the other supported your limp head, you'd cried out so loudly he'd had to cover your mouth, soaking his fingers as your body twitched and jerked tensely.

"Holy cow." you'd gasped a moment later, a light sheen of sweat delicately clinging to your face and chest. "I wasn't aware I was doing that wrong."

"Well, I dunno about wrong..."

"Wrong, not as good as you, whatever." you dismissed, waving your hand at him playfully. "I hope you know that that's gonna be your job from now on."

"Is that right?" he grinned lasciviously, leaning down to kiss you on the cap of your bent knee and forcing himself to not firmly plant his rapidly growing head between your thighs. "Since when do you delegate tasks?"

"Oh, don't be that way, McDonough. We're all taking on extra responsibilities for the good of everyone." you replied diplomatically, your cheeks rosy as you rearranged your limbs to lie along his body.

He laughed genuinely at that, wrapping an arm around you and moving to recline himself. The small tent the two of you had set up was filled with your sweet musk, and he strategically angled his hips away from you so you wouldn't feel how completely stiff he was as a result, petting your hair as you drifted off to sleep. John was no stranger to knocking out for long periods himself, usually to will away a nasty come-down or hangover, but he found himself staying awake longer and longer to watch you, caress you. He thought it a much more worthwhile use of his time.

A while later, you'd been sent to the settlement that'd grown up at the center of the former drive-in theater a bit down the road from the Abernathy place. You were rather enamored with the place, both because of its historical use and because it had a fairly interesting crop setup, attempting to squeeze the most use out of what parts of the ground weren't paved. Personally, he felt less welcome at this place than he often did at other settlements, though other settlements coincidentally also seemed to have more ghouls already living there. However, when you wanted to stick around for a bit, caught up in helping work out some kinks with their crop watering system, he didn't object or complain, happy to see you happy. He'd simply make himself scarce during the day, often scavenging or patrolling the outer edge of the place and leaving you to socialize and play in the dirt, which is where he found you upon his return one early fall evening, the air growing chilly as the breeze blew through the little farmyard.

"How was your day?" you asked as he approached, sitting on the steps of the ramshackle barn the settlers had constructed and knocking mud off of your boots and the cuffs of your pant legs. The sun was quickly sinking behind the ridge at your back, darkness beginning to envelop the edges of the place.

"It was great. Camped out watching the ridge for a while, so I'm pretty stiff. Wanna go for a walk with me, stretch your legs?" he asked, rolling a loose cig in his fingers before jamming it between his lips. Smiling, you nodded silently in agreement, sweeping the remaining dust and debris from your pants after you stood before moving to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him, the two of you making your way northwest towards the other end of the paved lot. You chit-chatted a bit about the day's events, what each of you had accomplished. When you reached the decrepit building that made up the old movie screen, he took a pause to lean against the stained wall, finally lighting up his smoke. You busied yourself staring up at the stars quietly, leaving him to study you closely as he puffed away at the thing.

"Have you gone up top yet?" he asked eventually, exhaling the last of his cigarette through what remained of his nose as he tucked the butt into his pocket.

"No. Can you? I thought they had a guard post up there so I've been keeping away. I get so embarrassed when I get in the middle of their patrol routes." you asked, an excited glint in your eyes as you fiddled with the ends of your hair.

"They don't man it at night. Can't hardly see nothin' from it in the dark, strategically, and it's too hard to wire anything up there. Plus, anything happens and you're pretty far away, all things considered. Nor' says they're building a guard tower soon. Wanna take a look? Might still be neat."

You nodded enthusiastically, quickly reaching out to thread your fingers into his and tug him along, the slightly sickly glow of your Pip-Boy flashlight illuminating your way along the mostly intact path. The pair of you climbed the old metal stairs together, hand-in-hand, slowly making your way up to small walkway along the top of the massive screen.

He had been a little surprised that you'd never heard of a movie theater like this before you'd come here for the first time, since even he'd at least read about them once or twice (and vaulties often seemed to know so much more about the pre-war world than people from up-top), but Nora had gotten a kick out of showing both of you what remained of the massive projector in the decayed building at the far end of the lot, explaining to you how the whole place had worked back in the day. The wonder in your eyes had been adorable, and you'd spent quite a while afterwards talking about the few movies you'd watched growing up. It was rare for you to talk so much, so openly about where you came from, even if what you were talking about wasn't necessarily consequential information; he'd spent most of that night holding you in his lap, staring at you dreamily while you mused and remembered until you fell asleep.

"Wow. You can see so far!" you exclaimed quietly as you mounted the final step, pulling away from him by a few feet to look out across the scene. "Well, I bet you could see way further during the day. But still. How cool, John!"

He smiled, watching as you tested the strength of the hand rail before leaning against it cautiously, your head sweeping back and forth as you studied the inky horizon, dotted occasionally with flickering signs of life. There was a melancholic tang to the warmth he felt as he took in your excitement, your joy; this sort of small pleasure shouldn't be so novel to you, and it broke his heart just enough to color the moment.

Letting that feeling fall to the wayside, he leaned back against his own portion of the railing for a minute or two, fishing out the Jet container that sat in his pocket beside his smokes and hitting it quietly a couple of times. The pleasant, buzzing feeling of intoxication wrapping around his consciousness sent his head falling back laxly, lids heavy as he studied your silhouette against the moonlight, the lines of your body and the dancing form of your hair in the slight breeze. The smell of you in the air.

Nuzzling up close behind you after a beat, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek to your temple as he held you close. His heart sped up further, already racing from the amphetamines coursing through him, when you relaxed into his grip, the back of your head resting along his shoulder. The two of you had been enmeshed in whatever your little entanglement could be called for a bit, and you didn't ever seem uncomfortable with him, personally, but sometimes more intimate contact still made you a bit skittish.

For a few minutes, he appreciated the view along with you, rubbing your sides softly, massaging the dip in your lower back where you often complained of tension after a long day. Eventually, however, his hands wandered further, grazing softly over your breasts and smirking at how you sighed in response, lips sliding down to tuck against your throat. Between his physical adulation and the growing chill of the dark, your nipples pebbled quickly, his fingers alternating between playing with each of them, setting you to squirming against him. He toyed along your belt line for a beat, forcing your attention to where his touch was landing as he gently unbuttoned your pants and slid his hand inside.

"It's alright, I gotcha." he assured you, supporting your stiffening form easily as his index finger teased over your swollen peak through your underwear, feeling a growing wet spot that made his core ache.

"I'm dirty, John." you murmured, voice hushed with embarrassment, your face and throat just a bit warmer under his lips.

"You think I'm clean?" he teased in response, nibbling at your earlobe.

The slightly worried fidgeting you were doing continued for another minute or so, but the more the damp patch expanded under his touch, the less nervous you seemed; still high-alert, but drifting further and further into his touch. Soon, you were relying on him to support most of your weight as your hips moved themselves back and forth against his hand. He could feel, see the signs of you approaching your orgasm, but dragged his fingers up and down the length of your slit a few times to tease you, to drag out the moment. The tension made you whimper sharply, teeth closing around your lower lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

"Better keep it quiet, cutie. You'll get us caught." he murmured, low and close to your ear; the shudder that broke down your spine, vibrating through your back and into his chest, was delicious.

His cock was aching against your backside, throbbing with anticipation, and it was unbearable. Head spinning, his hand that had moved to knead absentmindedly at your hip slipped further to press at the back of your thigh, pushing your knee skyward until your foot caught on the lower bar of the rail, balancing your leg there until you took over, bracing it there yourself. This new position granted him more reach, his fingers swiping lower along your now slightly exposed entrance.

"Mm, John." you whispered. A warning.

"Trust me, baby." he breathed in reply, stroking over the velvety soft spot a few more times before moving his fingers back to your needy clit. He wanted to sink his fingers deep inside you, to feel you wrapped around any part of him in that base, primal way, but resisted the temptation, sensing your hesitation.

Your more open stance also granted him easier access to roll your bud between his fingers, and quickly you were dancing along that knife's edge once more, your heat and sounds and smell all overwhelming him at equal speed.

His need had reached a fever pitch, your squirming and whimpering shooting sparks down his spine; this, combined with his already high proclivity for sexual behavior on Jet, was more than enough to send him wrestling his cock free through his suddenly unzipped fly. Your shirt had bunched up in the back, leaving a sliver of flesh exposed that he fixated on as soon as he'd noticed it. Stroking himself a few times in the cool air, he pressed closer, the pierced underside of the head dragging along your smooth, soft skin and making him hiss.

Feeling any part of your body against him like that drove him instantly mad, and he had to focus almost entirely on you to ensure that he didn't blow past you on his way to the finish line. Fortunately, it wasn't an issue, as you moved your hand down on top of his, pressing down hard, and soon stiffened completely against him, burying your face in his shoulder as best as you could to muffle your cries as you came apart; he followed you almost instantly, your sounds overwhelming him as he shot all over the ground.

The two of you savored the bliss of your aftershocks for a moment, clinging to one another, but quickly he felt you attempting to right your clothing, and he allowed you to pull away a bit. Probably smart anyway; neither of you had exactly been silent towards the end, though he couldn't hear anyone ascending the stairs.

"You alright?" he asked as he set to fixing his pants. You nodded silently, smiling shyly at him as you reached for his hand.

"Aht, watch out. Don't, uh, step in that." he murmured, guiding you to his side before you made your way down, passing by a couple people who side-eyed you on your way back to your shared bed, set up at the top of the projector room. Laid down for the night, your cheek on his sternum, he'd assumed you were asleep when you finally spoke up for the first time in a while.

"John." you whispered softly.

"Hmm?" he replied, eyes closed as his hand stroked your back.

You hesitated a moment, blush-heavy and squirming.

"Is your...ah..."

He allowed you some time to try and get your words out, but it was clear you were struggling.

"You don't have to be embarrassed, babe. Whatever it is, you can ask me. I won't be upset or anything." he assured, rubbing your shoulder gently.

"...is your penis pierced?" you finally whispered conspiratorially.

He was genuinely shocked into silence for a few seconds before breaking out in uproarious laughter, his head rolling limply to and fro as you giggled along with him.

"Wow, you could tell against your back like that?" he asked, rather astonished.

"I wasn't sure it's what I was feeling." you replied, sheepish. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be weird about it or anything. I just didn't know that was a thing that people did. Then again, I didn't know people pierced things in their faces until I met that lady at The Third Rail. Remember?"

He chuckled warmly at the memory, at your candor and the pink dusting your face as you sat up a bit, still looking at him curiously.

"You look like you wanna ask me more questions about it." he said.

"Did it hurt?" you asked quickly.

"Eh, it's been such a long time since I got it, I don't really remember all that well." he white lied, fully knowing he didn't remember how badly it hurt for entirely different reasons.

You nodded, the wheels in your mind clearly turning rapidly.

"Does it, uh..." The effort of forcing the uncomfortable words out of your mouth was clear on your face. "...does it have a function, or is it just for looks? Like, do you use it?"

"Oh, yeah." he grinned, ignoring the way he had started to grow stiff again.

You didn't ask for more elaboration on that front, but your mystification was clear, gaze wandering as the very faint smell of your arousal tinged the air. Eventually, you spoke again.

"What made you wanna get it?"

This question, shockingly, was the one that stopped him in his tracks. He'd told you not to be embarrassed when you'd first brought it up, the whole thing rather entertaining to him, but something about this specific inquiry agitated the ugly knot of shame that permanently lived at his core, his own face and chest suddenly feeling flush.

Was there even a way to phrase the truth that wouldn't just be embarrassing? What was the low-key way to say I was incredibly fucked up on Ultrajet at the time and it just felt like the right thing to do, so I did it myself?

There's only one thing he could think to say that wouldn't completely demean himself in your eyes, and it came out on the back of a halfhearted chuckle.

"Don't do hard drugs, kid."

Your face was unreadable in response to that, only for a heartbeat, but long enough to make him physically squirm in discomfort. But you simply chuckled in a satisfied, incurious way, laying a sweet kiss against his cheek before tucking in. He had trouble sleeping that night, but also found it tough to look too long at your sleeping face.

Eventually, you two made your way back northwest, making a very careful sweep through Concord as you went along. Both of you had jokes about what had happened last time; neither of you said a single word until you were turning into the crumbled Red Rocket lot anyway. The very first thing you did after you dropped your pack onto the ground was climb up and double check that your vault suit was still tucked away where you'd left it. When you were satisfied with what you'd found, you unpacked your things and asked if he'd like to go over to "town" and say hello. He agreed, ready for a stiff drink after how tense he'd been on the way back.

You held hands as you crossed the bridge, and it was a real labor for him to not actively gloat at the guards you always passed. After procuring a drink from the fairly well-stocked bar, he noticed you surrounded by the usual flock of folks who wanted to chat and exchange stories, so he stepped outside. Wandering over to where the handful of ghouls who'd taken up residence in Sanctuary usually hung out in the evenings, congregating beneath a little patched-up awning on some decently nice lawn furniture, he easily folded himself into the conversation and made himself welcome.

A few long anecdotes and one too many cigarettes later, the sun was beginning to dip behind the treeline to the west, and he figured it was time to make a reappearance and collect you. However, when he wandered back into the bar, grabbing another beer on his way through, he didn't find you. Exiting through the only other door, he cast his eyes downhill towards the waterfront and found you standing there with someone he never saw you alone with: Preston Garvey.

The Minuteman second-in-command wasn't a bad guy by anyone's report, nor an especially exciting one, as far as John could tell. He was friendly, obviously eager to help out and have a positive impact on things around him, but he was also far too close to you for the ghoul's taste, and his heckles were raised high as he quickly made his way towards you. His sharp ears picked up on the conversation in progress, his steps unconsciously light and quiet.

"...just don't want you to have to deal with that, you know? People can be so awful, and you don't deserve that."

"That's very considerate of you." you replied politely, your eyes seemingly glued to the ground. "But your concern really isn't necessary, I promise."

John had largely closed the distance between himself and the pair of you, lingering about ten feet away, just far enough out that he didn't draw Garvey's eye as he approached. He hesitated to move closer, though, afraid of how he may react if things didn't go his way. The sweating beer bottle in his hand was already clenched tighter in his grip than was likely wise. His entire body felt like it was made of lead, dense and frozen and so heavy that he was sinking into the soft ground beneath him.

"Well, I won't act like I know what's best for you better than you do. I just wanted to say that I think you're great, and that I think you deserve someone who will treat you just as great." the younger man finished up, taking another quarter-step into your bubble and placing his hand against your cheek for a beat. This, alone, was enough to make John apoplectic, but when Preston had the gall to slide his crooked index finger under your chin and lift it your face towards his, he lost it for a split second, the glass vessel in his hand suddenly exploding into a plume of tiny shards, a crumbled, wet, sharp mess remaining in his bloodied grip. Fortunately, you seemed to teleport a few steps back, your hands up in a bit of a defensive gesture.

Every non-existent hair he had stood on end in that moment, his entire body coated with goosebumps as the realization that he was about to make a grave, grave mistake settled onto him. The broken remains of the bottle felt far too useful in his hand, suddenly, and he tossed the whole dripping thing to the ground before turning and pounding sandy soil up the embankment and back across the bridge. John wasn't necessarily one to lose his cool like this often, but he knew well enough that he needed somewhere to direct this anger before it boiled over in a major way.

Shoving the door open, he stomped past the few pieces of furniture you'd dragged in, coming to lean against the old counter top towards the back, the one that you'd told him you'd like to get rid of. However, the two of you had been unable to figure out how to extract the thing because it was welded to the floor. For a few weeks, he'd been pondering how to remove it cleanly to surprise you. He'd been unable to come up with anything thus far.

Something about the presence of the thing only fueled his breakdown, and he delivered a vicious kick to the side of it, the metal and vinyl folding and splintering where his foot met the side. Typically, this little bit of destruction and catharsis would've been enough to quell him into stopping. But seeing the evidence of his anger and his lack of self-control only made him feel like more of a fuck-up, like more of the undesirable, unstable junkie he often saw when he looked in the mirror, and the resulting rage was blinding. Before he knew it, he'd wrapped his arms around the lip of the thing, yanking it once, twice, then a third time with all the strength at his command, until the whole thing broke loose from the base where it had been sealed to the floor. Bits of rusted-out metal and fat splinters of rotted wood clattered to the floor as he swung around, forcing it through the doorway to his right and throwing the thing as hard as he possibly could. It flew further than he'd anticipated, arcing rather high and crashing through the moldy awning of one of the Concord homes down the hill. There was skittering, the flapping of wings in response, frightened creatures fleeing the sudden sound as John stood there in silence, the burning in his muscles and the pain in his hands finally allowing him to focus on something other than his ears ringing in anger. After a long, dizzy moment, he turned and went back into the living room area, slumping against the wall as he studied all the metal shards sticking out of the floor where the counter top had been.

"I thought maybe you'd left." your voice came suddenly from the doorway.

"Nah, I wouldn't do that do you." he replied, trying his hardest to mean it, to not be exactly that type of guy. He couldn't make himself look at you. "Just needed to get away for a bit. Didn't wanna do anything stupid."

"Honey, your hand." you pointed out as you came closer, brow furrowed with worry as he examined himself; the back of his scarred appendage was bleeding somewhat generously, sliced by a nail or something similar in his momentary tantrum. He felt nothing about the wound, any pain he'd felt from what he'd done quickly leaving his body as the smell of you quickly filled the small space, further clouding his already racing thoughts. His beer bottle hand was already healing rapidly.

"It's fine. It'll be fine." he barely muttered in reply, reaching out to grab you just firmly enough by the wrist to pull you close enough that he could give you a thorough once-over.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You nodded, eyes wide, hair wild and cheeks ruddy as you gazed back at him like a startled doe.

For once in his life, not using the Jet hadn't helped the situation, seemingly. His head still spun with conflicting emotions and thoughts, every muscle still wired with energy from the adrenaline and from your general proximity, making him fidget and grasp for words as his body rebelled, reacting strongly to you. He was drowning in your scent, the tang of your sweat, but it was realizing that Garvey's smell still clung lightly to you from your brief contact that was the final straw.

Your heart raced under your skin, your pulse flying under the press of his fingertips as he pushed you firmly against the decrepit wall. You exhaled harshly through your nostrils, hands coming to knot themselves into his work flannel as his mouth pressed forward with its assault on yours. He expected you to begin to push him away using the shirt for leverage, but couldn't force himself to pull back first through the blinding possessive rage he felt.

John had always been more of a “free love” sort of guy most of his life, jumping from partner to partner without much thought or care, and, because he'd never put much emotional investment or time into any particular partner, had never really cared enough about another person to feel possessive of them. Jealousy was such a negative, ugly emotion that he hated to waste any of his time on it, but the fire he'd felt in his gut from the moment he'd watched that asshole place his fingers under your chin to tilt your face up, obviously angling for a kiss, could not be ignored. This was the final straw.

He'd heard the whispers of the people around Sanctuary, around every settlement and trade outpost; the speculations about why a woman like you would choose to travel with a ghoul as a companion, why you'd spend almost all your time with him, how you were so comfortable touching and being touched by him. Criticism from shitheads about his own actions and choices rolled off of him like water off a mirelurk shell, valid or not, but it stirred him up fiercely to hear these people you'd worked so hard for, given so much of yourself to, judge you, as if they had any room. Some of the more hateful ones called you a fetishist and a freak when they thought no one else could hear, and if it weren’t for you specifically asking him to not start trouble around the settlements unless you started it first, he would have made those people swallow their own teeth long ago.

Preston had added himself to that list the moment he made it clear that he pitied you for your choices.

John hadn’t previously had much problem with the guy, save for noticing the glint in his eye when he spoke with you. He couldn't necessarily begrudge him his attraction to you, though; you were, after all, the most beautiful woman in the Commonwealth, hands down. Beyond that, you were kind, generous, hardworking, and terrifyingly smart. You’d give the clothes off your back to anyone who needed them, and would offer a stranger your shoulder to cry on if they needed. It was nearly impossible to not fall in love with you, just a little. He knew; he had tried and failed as miserably as he'd ever failed at anything.

The guy’s feelings themselves weren't the problem, though; the problem was that he obviously thought himself some sort of contender for your affections. Or, he was trying to make himself one. It couldn't be tolerated. Hell, replace him with Edward Deegan, that rat McCready, or any other random man plucked out of the ether...the conclusion was the same, regardless. If this trespass was allowed, every man in the Commonwealth who fancied you or cut of your under suit would feel comfortable trying to pick you up right in front of him, and it'd be nothing but trouble for everyone involved. John's tolerance for everyone else encroaching on what was his had finally run dry.

His mouth found the side of your throat, placing open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips the way he knew you liked in a beeline from your clavicle to your ear. When you squirmed, letting out an airy moan as you yanked him closer, he latched onto your pulse point and sucked, bathing the skin with his tongue hard enough to leave a spotted, wine-colored mark that you wouldn't be able to hide the next day. You liked that, too, but you’d never admit it out loud.

Well, unless he made you, maybe...

A low, drawn out moan escaped your mouth, your hands moving up to cup the back of his head, pulling him still closer. He obliged you, pressing the line of his entire body against you, making you feel his throbbing need against your belly, and you whimpered in response, your hands finding the top button of his flannel and beginning to work it open.

He paused his ministrations, reaching up to cup your cheek gently, your own fingers stalling for a single beat as he gazed into your eyes, trying to reassure you that he wasn’t upset with you. And he wasn’t. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But he was upset at that guy’s uncharacteristically bold actions, his disregard of his place in your life. The disregard of the others. The disrespect.

He needed to assert his place. He needed to show you how he felt.

Promptly, he resumed his ministrations. By the time you'd managed to undo the last cracked button, he’d left a huge, oblong purple bruise along the side of your elegant throat.

“John,” you whispered in between harsh breaths, your hands moving to yank the thin shirt over your head. “I want you.”

The tone of your voice was sure and clear despite how it trembled. When he fully looked up to your face, you were gazing at him dreamily, your brow furrowed with effort as your hips began to move, trying to find some friction against his. Just like the previous night, like every night, he could clearly see your desire, your trust, in the way you gazed at him. Still, though, a tug of guilt in his chest had him chastising himself as he hesitated; he should protect you and tell you to not do this. Not only because of the societal response you could expect for being with a ghoul, but because he was far from anyone’s ideal man. He didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t sure he could be everything you needed, and wasn’t sure a man even existed on Earth who could be all that a divine woman like you deserved.

Even knowing this, he couldn't pull himself away from you. The overwhelming desire he'd felt since the moment you'd met burned too hot in his gut, long transformed from a deep want to a need.

“John.” you repeated, slightly louder though just as winded, and it sunk in just how much you made it feel like his name again.

His head dropped to your shoulder, kissing across it placidly for a moment. Your hands traveled up his back, eventually moving up to grab the tricorn from his head and toss it onto the counter beside you. He felt the warm bloom of self-consciousness as you pecked along his bald head gingerly, your lips feeling extra plush against his ruined skin.

“This really what you want, sunshine?” he asked, forehead coming to rest against your own as his hands rubbed your sides.

You didn’t respond vocally, but instead reached out to stroke his cheek like he had yours, thumb swiping back and forth for a few moments. There was a silence, but a warm, comfortable one that wrapped you together in your own little bubble. When your eyes met again, he had his answer.

He led you by your soft hand to the next room, ditching his shirt, the two of you dropping onto the mattress in the corner, chuckling at the plume of dust that rose from the thing as you cuddled close. Your hands absentmindedly petted at him, one twiddling at one of the frayed tails of his shirt, averting your eyes. Soon, the unoccupied hand began to move down his chest, stroking the wiry muscle of his exposed torso. Your palm was warm and soft against him as you explored his chest, eyes following your hand as it slowly moved lower. He tensed a bit as your hand swept along his abdominals ticklishly, fingertips dipping below the waistband of his jeans. You hesitated a moment, your fingers retreating slightly to sweep back and forth along the upper seam, toying with the loose threads there.

John was radiating tension at the way you were touching him; you had never been quite this bold before, and his head swam with the overwhelming amount of emotion that he felt as your fingers began to dip below again, shyly. He was proud of you, knowing how much work you’d put into getting over your nerves to get to this point; at the same time, he was beyond touched that he was the man you’d chosen to share these milestones with. Both of these tender feelings made the overwhelming arousal he felt at your soft hands on his body a little embarrassing.

His breath caught in his throat when the tips of your fingers lightly brushed his erection, the sound odd. You froze, eyes moving to his to assess; he gave you a small head shake to convey that you hadn’t hurt him or anything, his usually silver tongue caught in his throat.

Given the green light, you slid your hand just a little further down, warm against the side of his shaft as you gently explored; your ginger poking and prodding was unpracticed, almost clinical, your hand trembling a little as you made him squirm. He was already rock hard, electricity sparking from where you touched him, and his frazzled emotional state didn’t help in the slightest. He gave a little grunt, trying to remain quiet and calm but feeling a mounting need to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you down against the filthy mattress and make you come undone.

He wanted you naked.

Generally, when you two got to fooling around, you were more than okay with him touching you both over and under your clothes, and you responded to him beautifully, making it easy to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t. However, you were often very nervous to fully remove your clothes when he made it clear he actually wanted to touch you. In the past several weeks you’d been so bold as to let him push up the hem of your shirts or open the blouse of your dresses to softly fondle and kiss your breasts, which you held and shielded with your hands when he wasn’t directly touching them, your face dusted with a dusky, embarrassed blush.

It hurt him terribly to see that you doubted your own beauty; if he had his way, he would spend every day from here to the next end of the world showing you how gorgeous you really were. But at the same time, the lingering shyness you demonstrated drove him wild.

A sharp inhale left his mouth when you suddenly wound your index finger lightly around the head of his cock, the softly calloused pad collecting some of the precum that dribbled from the slit and dragging along his piercing. You jumped a little at the sound, but when he looked at you in the dim light, your eyes were wide and the corners of your mouth were turned up ever-so-slightly in an expression of gentle confidence. He didn’t dare interrupt you, not wanting to risk throwing you off whatever wave you were currently on, instead tucking what remained of his lower lip between his teeth as you shimmied a little closer to him, the new proximity granting you a little more length of your arm to slide into his pants.

When your soft fingers curled all the way around his shaft, he nearly lost himself.

He cried out, the sound embarrassing and dragging out as you moved your grip on him up and down, slowly, hesitantly, his face burning with the shameful realization that he’d nearly cum in his pants like a teenager from a single touch from you. He was grateful his blush couldn’t be read on his tarnished skin as he dropped his face to your shoulder once more, placing a series of little kisses across the tan softness there as your blush began to work it's way down to your chest. One of his hands swept down your spine, caressing you softly as it slipped low and came to rest in the small of your back.

“Fuck.” he grunted, his jaw clenched tight as you continued your gentle ministrations, “I wanna see you, baby. Please.”

Your hand paused for a moment, giving a couple more gentle strokes before pulling back. When he lifted his head again, you were looking at him straight-on.

“Only if I get to see you, too.” you replied simply, your voice just above a whisper.

He was surprised at that; John had no real issues being a ghoul, but generally made it a practice to stay mostly clothed during sex for the ease of things (and, you know, just in case someone decides they don’t like what they see). His shirt was already hanging open, exposing his chest to you, but he went shirtless or open shirted frequently, both at home and on the road. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to you. He pulled back from you a bit to straighten up, his hands coming to work the fly of his jeans down as he gazed back at you, lips swollen and throat heavily marked where you sat, leaning back against the moldering wall.

“Deal.”

At that, you sat up more yourself, fingers slowly moving up to work the clasps on the back of your now well-worn bra loose. John stood and busied himself removing his jeans, taking a few extra seconds to fold them before placing them on the floor with his boots. As much as he wanted to stare at you, to fix his gaze on you and savor every moment of your undressing, he knew it would make you anxious or self-conscious, and willed himself to keep his eyes on the floor or the wall for a minute. When he looked back over, you were stripped down to just your panties, your knees drawn up to your chest, obscuring your breasts from his view as you watched him, waiting.

He felt a sudden and unexpected wave of self-consciousness as your eyes traced over his almost-naked form, straining to make out the details of him in the rapidly fading light. He was grateful that night was falling. Following your lead, he left his boxers on and returned to the bed, sitting down gently beside you. You responded by leaning towards him, leaning your head on his shoulder. A few quiet moments passed, the only sounds the creaking of the ancient place's frame and the wind in the trees outside.

"Nervous?" he asked, unable to help himself.

You nodded, but softly; he cupped your face lovingly, kissing you a few times and feeling you relax towards him just enough that he could maneuver you down onto your back. Giggling, your smooth palms ran along his own body in turn, coming to rest along the crown of his head as he laid kisses down your torso. An approving hum escaped you as he let his tongue lathe across one of your nipples, a hand teasing along your mound, but you froze up a bit when he moved towards your stomach. Feeling your tension, he pulled up just enough to look at you.

"I'm sorry. It's not you." you said, eyes avoiding his.

"I know it isn't, honey. It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong. Just relax, okay?"

Your eyes closed, hands petting at his head in soft affirmation as he dragged his lips along your soft skin, minding the few pale scars that decorated it. He could tell you were self-conscious about how soft you were in the middle, but he loved it, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into the plushness. More than once, a simple little peek at your tummy when you were reaching up or changing had been enough to turn him on so badly he'd had to excuse himself for a bit. You'd be incredibly sexy pregnant, he often thought. Moving lower, he switched up and laid some playful bites along the inside of your right thigh, and you let out the most adorable little squeak.

However, when he let his lips ghost over your bare mound for the first time, a heavy shudder broke down your back, your other noises choking down to nothing. It took a great deal of self-control, but he managed to drag out teasing you for a bit, barely letting his breath tickle you before peeking his tongue out to take a small swipe at your folds. He deeply suspected that he wouldn't last long once he finally made it inside you, and he wanted to make sure you were completely satisfied before that happened.

Soon, the temptation to dive straight into you got to him, and he closed his lips around your puffy clit, lapping and bathing it with the tip of his tongue. You cooed at the sensation, grasping at the back of his head and grinding your hips forward. He grinned, delving deeper into your most sensitive place. Quickly, you were trying your best to fuck his face, rubbing your slit along his tongue and nose until he was forced to hold your hips down, wriggling and writhing until you were calling out his name and coating his tongue in your taste.

He was lightheaded from how much blood had rushed to his groin by the time he lifted his head from yours, giving you a second to breathe and regain your vision before pulling himself on top of you. Petting and stroking his favorite parts of you, he found himself lost in admiration for a long second, holding his gaze on your face until you finally looked back at him. There was an electricity in the air between the two of you, a magnetism drawing him in until you were close enough to share breath.

A terse little noise left your throat when the head of him first touched you, just barely laying against you, nestled in the fold where your thigh met the rest of you. Though he’d anticipated it (advancing to a “new step”, as it were, always made you a touch anxious and jumpy at contact, but John’s skin crawled at the idea that he might be doing something to you that you didn’t want), his immediate instinct was to pull away, to hold you and tell you that the pair of you didn’t have to do this, that he cared for you for reasons other than what he could take from your body, and that it would kill him if you didn't feel that. But the way you wrapped your arms around his narrow shoulders, burying that beautiful face against the weathered side of his neck as you tried to pull yourself closer, steadied him. You wanted this, and he wanted to give it to you.

He rested there for a minute or two, not moving, letting you adjust to his presence and listening to your breathing. It was shaky, and he dropped his chin to place a few kisses along the crown of your head, lingering with each. Slowly, he brought a hand to your chest and gently groped your breast, thumb circling your nipple tightly in the way he knew made you crazy, earning a couple quiet whimpers from your lips. You loosened your grip on his neck a little, relaxing back onto the bed enough to allow him to kiss you again, his mouth distracting you while his free hand slipped down to grip his erection, giving it a firm squeeze to alleviate the nearly unbearable pressure he felt as he slid it against you.

He broke away from you before he was aware what was happening, pulling his mouth back to moan as he really felt the silky wet heat of you against him for the first time. Pins and needles of pleasure bloomed up his spine and across his scalp; he was so close to what he’d been fantasizing about for almost a year, what he’d spent so many late nights and hazy jet-fueled afternoons jerking off thinking about. Again, he throbbed dangerously, threatening to blow his load before he was ready.

Forcing himself to focus, to come back into his own body a bit and retreat from the heady pleasure he was slipping into, he braced himself and slid the blunt head along your wet little seam, collecting your lubrication as he stroked over your clit, the swipe of the little metal bar making you shudder. To his surprise, while you were trembling and he could still smell fear pheromones in the air, you let out a moan, your hips shifting to work against his, rubbing yourself back against him. Seeing you growing bolder in your actions, compared to how anxious and tense you'd been before, made his heart and his cock swell simultaneously.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” he hissed, unable to keep a better handle on his filthy mouth; you responded with a sultry hum, seemingly appreciating his words but unsure how to respond. Your hips continued to cant against his, your breathing uneven, face pulled taunt in concentration. He groaned at the sight, rubbing himself against you a little faster. All the better if you came again before he slid home, he figured.

After another few minutes of continuing to stroke at your hard nub, you shuddered under him once more, moaning low and throaty as another rush of that shiny slick coated him. God, he’d been addicted to a lot of things in his life, but the best thing by far, and the only one he’d never be able to kick, was the sounds you made as you unraveled. No one else had ever heard your most intimate song, your sotto little moans and whimpers as you experienced feelings you'd been convinced you couldn’t feel before.

Pulling himself up from you just a little, his hand left his member and came up to brush your hair from your face once again, gently stroking your downy, flushed cheek as you worked to catch your breath. Never before had he wished he had a camera so badly; between your fully nude state beneath him, your kiss-bruised pout and throat, the wild crown of soft hair, and the way your deep, dark eyes beckoned to him as they slowly slid open, you were the most gorgeous sight he’d ever taken in. Cupping your face with both hands, he leaned in slowly, your eyes lingering on one another as he pulled you gently into another kiss. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his tongue.

For a few moments, he allowed the pair of you to fall back into you usual pattern of kissing; advancing, gently teasing, withdrawing before resurging once more like the sea. Slowly, his right hand pulled itself from your face, softly brushing the side of your breast and rib cage as it slipped further south. Fingers ghosting just barely over your mound, he gripped his aching cock where it hung heavy between you, giving a light squeeze around the shaft as he repositioned himself slightly, lining up. As the head of him nestled against your opening, you gave a small whimper, pulling back just enough to disconnect your mouths, lips brushing his as you spoke.

“John.”

He waited a long moment for you to say more, but you seemed unable to force whatever you wanted to say out.

“You ready?” he asked gently, voice a soft murmur against your mouth. His body was tense as he awaited your response, ready to pull back if needed, but you wordlessly cuddled up to him again and let out a deep sigh, wrapping your legs just a little tighter around his waist. Peppering your jaw and throat with small, distracting kisses, he pressed forward a bit, undulating his hips back and forth a few times until the head slipped fully inside. You tensed a bit, and he set to marking up the other side of your throat, drawing your attention and making you gasp and hum as he worked his way further inside.

When about half his length had been worked inside, he took a pause, sitting up a little higher to check on you, finding you staring shyly at him, worrying away at your lower lip. Your face morphed a bit when he gave a couple of thrusts of equal depth, and he watched you processing the new sensations, bringing his thumb to your clit again. Breathing heavily in response, you shuddered, and he let a low moan slip himself when you started to work your hips back and forth in a crude arc.

The way you were wriggling and clenching already beneath him set his hips to moving further, faster. Every muscle in his back and flanks burned with withheld strength, effort to not literally fuck you through the mattress, but eventually he'd built up to full-length strokes, using whatever bounce remained in the decrepit springs to move you easily back and forth along his length.

Taking in the bruising along the sides of your throat where he'd been kissing and sucking at your skin, John hummed approvingly, nuzzling you and taking a deep lungful of your rich scent. The lingering edge of his own smell that coated you turned him on more than he'd have thought, and he gave a much harder buck than he'd intended.

"Oh, f-" you gulped at the sudden stab before silencing yourself, the word he wanted to hear so badly teasing across his ears and sending him gnawing along your shoulder again.

"Go on, honey." he growled, his hips steadily picking up their pace, body pinning yours just a little harder. "Say it."

You didn't reply, your face as red as he'd ever seen it as his fingers moved to your abused clit again, earning a pitiful whimper as he began to rub at you again.

"Beg me to fuck you. I wanna hear you say it, baby. I need it."

"John...!" you gasped as he flicked the tip of his finger just right; however, he paused completely when you still refused to say the magic words, simply applying pressure near where you wanted it as he continued to pound away at you.

"Mmm." you whined, clenching around him over and over, those big eyes brimming with tears.

"Tell me."

"F-fuck! Fuck me, John! God!" you finally spat, everything tense and twitching and spinning as he fully let himself go, wrenching one of your legs up onto his shoulder and driving as hard into you as he felt he could let himself without splitting you in two, his fingers back at work. You squirmed under him at the almost punishing pace, fingernails digging firmly into his back; the pain made him growl again, and the sound was seemingly enough to push you over that edge, squeezing and fluttering around him fast and firm as you gasped and sputtered his name.

He was able to hold out for a few more strokes, his hips stuttering as the pins and needles creeping up his spine began to fully wash over him.

“God, baby, I love you.” he huffed breathlessly, overwhelmed and not giving you a moment to respond as his mouth crashed into yours once more. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad or embarrassed for saying it; he did love you. He loved everything about you, and every day he loved you more and more.

Your reply, whether you'd fully heard what he’d said or not, was to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back deeply as your bodies continued to glide across one another, yours faltering and growing limp as he crested the peak.

John had never really wanted kids before. He felt himself far too unreliable, too unlike someone anyone should look up to as a father figure. However, that didn't stop the most primal part of his brain from whispering to him how perfect it would be to knock you up, for everyone to see you full to the brim with his child and know that you were his and only his.

"Fuck, I wanna cum inside you." he growled, quickly following up with "I can't get you pregnant." when you made worried, bleary eye contact. Your responding whimper made his gut tighten, hot and sharp and so ready, but he also felt a sting of guilt behind his breast at what felt too close to a lie. Still, when you fluttered around him hard once more, it was the end, his head falling heavily into the crook of your neck, his moans filling your ear as he filled you completely, throbbing into you again and again as you clung to him.

He wasn't sure how long he laid there, almost all of his weight pressing down on you until he regained the presence of mind to hold himself up a bit. Both of you panted like you'd been fleeing for your lives, exposing your overheated skin to the cool air while still desperately holding one another. There was so much racing through his mind, thoughts and creeping worries, but his exhausted body rebelled, refusing to allow him to even sit up. You appeared similarly situated, fighting your way into a comfortable position across his chest before letting your eyes close heavily. Quickly, your breathing fell even and gentle, your hair wild as it laid across his ribs. Somehow, you still looked so innocent to him.

Quickly, he followed you into sleep, clutching you close with no shame, his mind fogged with the smell of him all over you.

-

It was the chill of the very early morning air licking at your slightly exposed back that began to rouse you several hours of deep sleep later, a shiver breaking out up and down your spine as you curled yourself up closer to the man beneath your arm, staving off having to pull away and get up for a few more minutes by sapping his ample body heat as he snored lightly, blissfully unaware. You drew in a long, deep breath, stretching your back as best as you could without moving too much as the very familiar smell of him filled your lungs; tobacco, cologne, and that slight smell all ghouls seemed to carry that was somewhat like an old book. It was a great comfort to you, and soon you felt yourself beginning to drift back off into the inky embrace of sleep.

However, just a few moments later you began to feel the nagging tickle of your full bladder beginning to protest your posture, the feeling rapidly becoming more urgent as you laid there, trying your hardest to ignore it. You huffed, cursing your incredibly regular bathroom schedule mentally. Resigning yourself to your fate, you gently rolled onto your back, giving you just enough space from your still snoring partner to slowly sit up and look around the formerly abandoned gas station.

It was early, the night still holding its grip on the room as the sunrise struggled to break its way through the windows. Grasping around, you found your Pip Boy, strapping it onto your arm quietly as you rose from the floor where the two of you had constructed your makeshift bed set, tucking the blanket around your partner’s still snoring form as you gave another shudder, casting a glance around the room again in search of your jacket. When you didn’t locate it immediately, you made your way for the door, grabbing John’s long red coat from the table near the door where he’d left it instead, wrapping it tight around your naked body as you quickly padded outside. It wasn’t worth waking John up early if you didn’t have to just to turn your flashlight on.

Winding your way around the corner of the place, eyes scanning your surroundings for any new threats, you quickly made your way to the tree line in the back yard, picking a concealed spot before bunching the coat’s tails up around your waist to squat.

You hunched there, nose and toes freezing in the crisp air, and closed your eyes, trying to hurry though your task but distracted by your brain’s undeniable urge to run though last night’s events again in your mind, to dissect each moment for meaning and for the ability to store the memory away for later.

There were so many moments you wanted to keep hold of, turning each one over carefully in your mind as you cleaned yourself up, your walk back to the Rocket much less urgent; the way he’d pressed you against the wall, the heat of his insistent kisses and gropes, the sound he’d made as he lost himself deep inside you.

The sound of his rough voice, cogent, but overwhelmed, as he’d told you he loved you.

Your pulse raced as you remembered how those words hit you, how you’d struggled to try to return them against his smothering kiss. You’d loved him for what felt like eons now, and you were indescribably excited to have broached this particular milestone, despite the mild lingering doubts that he’d only been lost in the moment when he said it. The closeness you'd been building ever since you'd been introduced had always felt so easy, so natural, and so foreign to you, that you concluded it could really only be love.

As your bare feet stepped up onto the front stoop of the place you'd begun to see as home, you could hear the familiar sound of John’s lighter striking, your pace picking up as you hurried down the short hall to see him sitting up on the dingy mattress on the floor, tossing the old gold-plated lighter a bit to the side, onto his folded pile of clothes. Gaze lifting to appraise your body lazily as his head turned to face you, freshly lit cigarette dangling loosely between his thin lips, he smirked at you as you hurried across the cold floor, coat drawn tight around you.

“Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise.” he mused, voice thick with sleep as he took a long drag, his face briefly lit up by the red-orange glow of the burning tobacco as he slowly looked you up and down. “I can’t lie, wearing my coat’s a real hot look on you, babe. Then again, you could wear a tato sack and look just as sexy. You really don’t need to try.”

Your cheeks burned with discomfort at the positive attention you were receiving, but at the same time, you giggled and felt a warm sensation deep in your stomach, standing a little taller as you approached. Shifting down onto your knees as you saddled up beside him, you kissed him on the cheek and leaned against him, seeking warmth beneath the blanket.

“Cold this morning!” you exclaimed, chattering your teeth as you snuggled your head into his firm chest. John wasn’t a large man in terms of his general build, but the muscle tone he did have was deceptively strong due to his ghoulification. He chuckled at your dramatic show of discomfort, slinging his free arm around you to hold you close, leaning back to blow his latest drag away from you.

“Sleep good?” he asked, rough palm rubbing comfortingly up and down your back, making the lightest of scratching sounds against the old wool.

“Oh, like the dead.” you replied, eyes peeking open to look up at him. “Better than I think I ever have before. I only even woke up because I was chilly.”

“You did seem like you were out pretty good. I woke up for a few a couple hours ago to readjust a bit but I was out. Turns out having the most gorgeous woman in the Commonwealth laying naked across your chest is quite the sleep aid.”

You blushed again as he threw a wink at you, giggling as you sank down further under the cover, your head coming to rest in his lap, the bit of blanket over his groin bunching up at the back of your neck. John had always been very flirtatious with you; he was a flirtatious man by nature, sometimes using it to disarm people, but he was also honest, and you knew he wouldn’t tell you anything he didn’t mean. You could see his attraction to you, the affection he held for you in his deep, soulful eyes when he looked at you, too, and it made you feel genuinely beautiful and not just objectified for the first time you could ever remember.

John finished his cigarette above you, discarding the butt by tossing it in the little sack in the corner for trash and junk, before leaning down over you, peppering your hairline, then your forehead and cheeks, with soft kisses, his rough lips brushing you gently. Working his way slowly down your face, he paused when your mouths aligned, bringing one hand down to cup your cheek.

“Think I’ve got a joint already rolled in the right pocket of my coat. Wanna split it?” he asked, voice low and soft, just a hair above a whisper. He was so close that his lips brushed yours and his body heat soaked into your face like you were laid out in the sun.

“Sounds wonderful.” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. His hand on your cheek slid around to the back of your head, cradling you against him as you smooched one another. In no rush to pull away, you stayed in his lap until he pulled back from you on his own before sitting back up, fishing around in the pockets of the old coat until you felt the little hand rolled cigarette, careful to not crush or bend it as you held it out to him.

“You wanna go first?” he asked, sifting through the pool of fabric beside him for his discarded lighter. “I’ll light it for you if you want.”

You thought for a moment, and then shook your head. You still weren’t confident enough smoking marijuana to not worry about looking silly. “Nah, I’m not sure I’m cool enough for the first hit yet.”

A warm, raspy chuckle met your ears in response as he placed the joint between his lips, hand cupped over his face as he attempted to light it. The slight breeze that danced across the floor kept catching the flame, bending it before snuffing it out. You drew yourself closer once more, bringing your own hands up alongside his, expanding the shield and allowing him to light it. He smirked at you as he drew in the first hit, holding it in deep as he held the smoldering joint out to you; you grasped it between your thumb and forefinger, feeling self conscious as you lifted it to your lips and inhaled a small amount. When you offered the thing back to him, he insisted you have another, so a second little puff disappeared up into the air.

“Taking awfully small hits there.” he teased as he accepted the joint back.

You blushed, looking down to the tattered blanket that covered your bodies haphazardly.

“It’s just really harsh and I don’t wanna die coughing!” you gave a little chuckle as you spoke. You toyed with a loose thread for a moment before continuing. “Do you think you could do that thing again where you, uh, pass it to me? It doesn’t make me cough nearly as much that way.”

He chuckled as he inhaled another hit, his voice strained as he held it during his reply.

“If you want me to kiss on you, babe, you can just ask. You don’t have to ask me to shotgun weed to you as an excuse.” he jested, leaning towards you, chin tilted down as he angled towards your mouth. You smiled at him as your lips met, his parting as you inhaled his exhale. This time, your lungs didn’t burn at all, but you could feel more of a head change as you pulled back, lips pursed for a long moment before exhaling the rich tasting smoke into the cool air, the tendrils dissipating lazily above your head.

Your hands slid further across the floor behind you, leaning back a little, head cocked in John’s direction, watching him as he took another hit. When he tilted his chin at you again a moment later, you accepted another kiss, another puff, your body sinking a few inches deeper into the pool of tingling warmth you were beginning to feel. Your eyes felt weighty, and your lids drifted closed for a moment in response to the general feeling of peace; when they opened again, he was raking his eyes up and down the exposed sliver of your torso and stomach that was revealed by the gaping, unbuttoned coat opening as you leaned back. Briefly, you felt the familiar urge to cover yourself, but you let it pass, trying to bask in your lover’s attention. You liked when he looked at you.

Things stayed like that between you for a while, the deep indigo of the room slowly fading into lighter hues of periwinkle as the warmth of the rising sun outside began to seep in, the world beginning its gradual awakening as the earliest birds began to sing in the distance. You shared more nips between you, the kisses after each stolen breath growing longer, deeper with each pass, tongues tasting one another languidly as you moved closer over time. The joint was growing short in John’s fingers, and you watched him evaluate it from where your head was resting on the point of his shoulder, your arms wrapped around the arm he was using to support himself.

“Probably one good hit left. Want any more?” he asked, taking a long inhale as the little roach lit up bright red.

You nodded silently, shifting up and scooting in more, hip to hip with him as your lips met once more. You kissed again, but this kiss felt different, the air electrified. Your body felt sluggish and heavy in the most pleasant way, a warm thrum building up between your thighs as you felt yourself begin to slick.

He pulled himself up, now free arm coming to wrap around your waist; you anticipated him pulling you a little closer, but instead, he used his strength to lift you with the one arm, gently swinging you into his lap and pulling a surprised little giggle from you, trailing into a slight cough as the last hit you’d shared left your lips and disappeared into the air. After a moment, you’d cleared your throat successfully and settled yourself, feeling your cheeks heat up just a little when the cleft of your ass pressed down onto his manhood through the thin blanket, finding it stiff. Your lower lip drew between your teeth as you slowly allowed your eyes to meet his, your arms winding around his neck as he smirked at you.

You exchanged a few more kisses, his hands slowly moving up your sides beneath the open coat, stroking you softly. Though his skin was rough and whorled, the radiation emanating from within producing an energy all its own, his touch was a great comfort and only made you relax further; there was no pain to be had from his hands, only pleasure, your body told you. Slackening further against his chest, you wound your palms up and down his torso, eyes following them, dipping your fingers lower and lower into the darkness under the blanket each time.

When John’s hands slowly ran back up, passing the sides of your breasts to tuck into the sleeves of the coat and sliding it ever so slightly down your shoulders, you made eye contact once more, his hands pausing as he looked at you, very clearly asking permission in the nonverbal way you’d come to develop. You hesitated for a breath before pulling your hands back, straightening your arms to allow him to tug the heavy garment the rest of the way off, laying it on the bedroll behind you as you leaned forward again, curling up against him as his arms wrapped around your bare back.

You still felt the unease, the trembling feeling in your stomach as you reclined nude in his lap, but to a much lesser degree than you ever had before, more a sensation of excited embarrassment than ashamed embarrassment, and you’d felt enough of the latter to know the difference. Leaning up just enough to look into his face, you smiled a little at him as his hands continued to stroke your back lovingly.

“How’s your ride, sunshine?” he asked after another few quiet moments passed, now stroking your sleep-mussed hair.

Grinning, you closed your eyes and leaned back the few inches you could for a moment. you felt pleasantly weighty and simultaneously floaty, swaying just a little as you hummed.

“I feel great. Good sleep and now this? I haven’t been this relaxed in quite a while.” you mused, bringing one hand up to cup his rough cheek, thumb sweeping along his thin lower lip. “Though, I don’t think last night hurt me on that front, at all. In fact, I have a theory about why I slept so well...”

Despite always feeling a certain degree of nervousness, exposure at your genuine expression of attraction, you tried hard to give the energy John gave you back to him, to reassure him that you wanted and...loved him as much as he did you. You always tried to return his flirtation in equal degrees, something you didn’t think he was quite used to. The hesitation you felt, the tension within holding you back when you wanted to love him loudly, enthusiastically, was a burden of your own and not one that you wanted to saddle him with. You knew that, as much as he may embrace and shield himself with his image as Hancock, wild, free-loving party-time mayor of Goodneighbor, in reality, John McDonough was really a very insecure man. Particularly after yesterday's events, which you were loathe to bring up directly, especially since he seemed to be in such an improved mood.

He smiled at you, wide and bright and genuine, very clear even in the still relative darkness of the room, leaning forward to kiss you again. Your legs wrapped around his hips tighter as the kiss deepened, pulling your bodies flush together as his mouth broke away from yous, trailing across your cheek, down your jaw and the column of your throat, settling in the hollow of your neck, bathing you with his tongue in that way that sent electric shocks down your spine. Combined with the tickling sensation of his heavy breath in your ear as he licked and kissed you, you quickly began squirming in his lap, flushing bright red in your hiding place against his shoulder.

The only thing that separated your bodies now was the thin fabric of the tattered blanket, and as you attempted to press yourself closer to him, you could feel him even clearer beneath you, prodding your inner thigh as you both slightly undulated against one another. To your surprise, you felt none of the typical seizing fear at the sensation, only more want; you buried your face further into his neck and let out a pitiful little whimper, hips grinding down harder.

John grunted in return, arms around you clenching just a little tighter as he throbbed noticeably against you. Your stomach tightened at this, the previously chilly room suddenly way too warm.

“John.”

His name left your lips for the umpteenth quietly, a tiny little huff of sexual frustration so quiet it barely touched your own ears, but seemed to reach his fine, as he squeezed you once more in response, holding you much firmer this time as his hips shifted beneath your own, arcing to rub himself along your increasingly sensitive seam. His lips left the spot they’d been tending to on your neck, nipping and sucking their way back up to your ear, breathless as he spoke to you in the hushed tone of a needy lover.

“Wanna go again?”

The question wasn’t just for show; no matter how insistently he was grinding himself against you, how desperately his hands may grasp you, you could say no if you wanted. No guilt tripping, no anger, no coercion. But knowing that only made you want him more, made you want to push away your option to refuse him even more insistently, even as you trembled in his lap.

Your lips found his throat, kissing at it sweetly and breathing wantonly to him, almost embarrassed by your own needy tone as you replied.

“Yes, please.”

Your body was loose and weighty as he lowered you down onto your back, the wool of his coat warm against your skin once more as he laid you down, the blanket falling away from his body and yours as you readjusted. He was kissing you again, rather chastely this time as his own warm body spread over top of yours, shielding you as he slowly kissed his way down your neck, across your chest, ghosting down across your breasts. As he moved his body further, he uncovered more and more of your own to the room, increasingly bright with the coming sunrise.

Pulling himself up onto his haunches between your feet, his hands stroked you gently as your heavy eyelids drifted shut. Rough palms brushed the sides of your breasts, cupping and groping them almost reverently, his breathing increasingly strained as his palms continued their southward exploration. You flinched a little as he brushed across the expanse of your midsection, which had grown softer during your time in Goodneighbor, but when he dropped his head to lightly kiss you there, you couldn’t help but giggle, gingerly cradling his head as he peppered your belly and hips with pecks.

Distracted by his gentle affections, you didn’t notice his other hand sliding up through the sheets before you felt him softly grab at the back of your thigh, sliding up over and across your hip as he sat up straight, leaving you pretty much entirely exposed. A little shudder ran up your spine, and you peeked at his face through barely open lids, watching him as he watched you. His left hand slid back up to knead and brush your breasts with his fingertips, swapping back and forth between the two as his right hand stroked the sensitive median between your naval and your mound. You bit back a giggle at the slight tickling sensation, instead giving a shudder as his fingers dipped lower, softly petting over the damp, dark curls that framed you.

Ever patient and ready to put in the work to prepare you, to move at your speed, he stayed that way for a while, paying thorough attention to your sensitive breasts while lightly teasing your apex, slowly re-acclimating you to his touch between your legs. As you slowly felt yourself building towards something, you relaxed, letting your thighs fall open further, and John took this as his sign to increase the boldness of his touches, sliding only the very tip of his long middle finger right down your slit. You gasped a little at the electric, but brief feeling of his rough finger pad ghosting over your swollen, sensitive bud.

Your eyes slowly slid back open, fixed on his face as he repeated these touches over and over for a few moments, his own dark gaze pinned on his hand as he stimulated you. Working to slick itself in response to his touch, your body gave a few little clenches around nothing, making you shiver as arousal wrapped around you in a ticklish gossamer curtain.

"I wanna try something." you blurted, garnering a sudden glut of confidence. John smiled at you curiously, pulling back enough to allow you some room to move.

You yanked yourself over him with far less grace than you'd have liked, but he didn't seem to notice in the slightest, his eyes glued boldly to the way your breasts bobbed and swayed with your moves. Peppering his mouth and face with kisses, you gave his chest a gentle push to urge him down fully onto his back. Your lips trailed down slowly, exploring the whorled skin of his chest, and he smirked at you, the tent he was pushing at you twitching. It was only now, this close and lingering, that you'd noticed he only had one nipple, the other simply absent along the plane of scarred muscle.

Pushing yourself further down his legs, your face came to around his navel and you pulled back to look at him, studying his reaction as you let your fingers play gently over his covered erection. A hiss flew from between his teeth, the sound vibrating just right down your spine and pushing you to grip him more firmly through the sheet, stroking back and forth slowly as you lowered yourself down onto your belly.

John was watching you incredibly close as his cock sprung into view, and it only spurred you on to run your tongue up the side of his shaft quicker, drawing a delicious shiver out of him. Your eyes locked with his as you dragged the tip up the underside, but by the time you closed your lips fully around the tip, his had screwed shut, his hands forming balled fists at his sides. Experimentally, you allowed your tongue to drag along the tip, doing small circles around it and tasting the slightly salty precum gathered there.

The piercing didn't feel as sharp against your tongue as you'd imagined it would, though it was an intriguing feeling nonetheless.

But John had other plans, it seemed, pouncing on you when you were most distracted, yanking himself free from your bewitching oral grip and pinning you down on your back once again. His hands were much faster and less gentle than the day before, eager and greedy and excitable as they groped at your breasts and tummy, slid wetly through your soaked folds. You tensed as he toyed briefly with your peak, but tensed more when he slid one, then two fingers inside you suddenly.

"Tease." he growled as he stretched you, his thumb playing harshly with your nub until you were nearly bowled over with a sudden orgasm nearly out of left field. The feeling of you tightening and gripping around his fingers must've been too much for him, as he was filling you for real before you were completely aware.

He wasn't nearly as gentle as he had been the night before, and the thrill knocked the air right out of you. The tempo of his thrusts was increasing with each passing moment, the blunt head of him beating against your tender cervix rhythmically as your body clenched and trembled around him, dancing on the edge of coming undone yet again. There was no hesitation from John as you let out a gasping shriek in response, your breathing uneven and shaky as your eyes struggled to focus. His hands gripped wherever he could reach with bruising intensity, the sharp, pinching pain of his fingertips digging into your thighs as he forced them open for him only adding to the pleasure you was feeling.

You felt his teeth ghost over your shoulder, replaced by his tongue as he seemed to grumble at himself chidingly. You let out a little whimper as you felt the sharp edge of his jaw disappear, your overstimulated brain fixating on the feeling of his teeth on your neck when he kissed you there. For a long time, you’d wondered what it would be like for him to bite you with real force. However, you couldn't ponder on the idea too long, interrupted by John's primal, almost absentminded growling.

“You know, if I were still human, I’d knock you up.” he said.

His words were low and hot in your ear as he drove himself in hard and deep once more, punctuating his statement with a growl. The words themselves frightened you, a threat to strip you of your autonomy in the name of staking a claim, the very thing that you'd given up everything to avoid. However, the fear, as well as the possessive connotation of the words, also brought forth another wave of arousal so intense that you tightened painfully around him, whimpering as he ripped you right to the edge of yet another orgasm.

He smirked at you, free hand moving to cup your sweaty cheek as he teased you with a series of half-strokes, body pushing insistently against your own; your face pressed back against him, leaning into his touch to ground you as you fluttered around him. However, that grounding touch was quickly ripped away as his grip moved to your waist, flipping you off him and onto your stomach so quickly it disoriented you, your grunts muffled into the grimy mattress.

There was a slick sound as he guided his leaking cock back to your entrance, your body tense as the head played across your slit. He bucked towards you wildly, and when he failed to properly catch, the little metal bar along the underside just barely caught against your bud in an unexpectedly delicious manner, once, twice, a sloppy third time. The sensation made you coo enthusiastically, tossing your sweaty hair and arching your back towards him like a cat at the peak of heat.

"Beg me, baby." he said, teasing across your entrance.

You felt an instant wash of heat up your spine and into your face, equal parts pure arousal and the most genuine sort of embarrassment, and the sadistic look in his own eyes didn't help. Though your brain was running on reserve power, distracted by all the amazing sensations and pulled in a hundred different directions by desire, you knew what he wanted from you, and you were just cognizant enough to squirm over it.

"Go on. Tell me what you want."

Another half-thrust, another teasing bump against your clit. You forced your ass as high in the air as it would go, your voice embarrassingly whiny and nasal when it finally broke free.

"Please, John."

He chuckled darkly at that.

"As much as I enjoy your manners, kid, I'm sorta looking for the opposite." he chuckled, letting the hand that wasn't gripping his erection play along your slit again. "Tell me."

He was teasing you as cruelly as he knew how, forcing you to feel the pressure of the leaking head just about to breech you without the satisfaction of actually following through, and that would have been enough to frustrate you into begging. However, his teasing around your clit had also grown in ferociousness, sending your hips desperately searching out his fingers, and it was more than enough to break you down.

"Please fuck me, John." you whispered.

"Sorry? Couldn't quite hear you." he smirked, and it pissed you off more than anything.

"Fuck me, John! Fuck me!" you demanded, voice slowly growing louder out of pure sexual frustration. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

The last word didn't properly land, stuttered by the way he suddenly slammed himself home again and nearly collapsed you completely, but you managed to brace yourself against the bed just as he began to rut into you with wild abandon. His heavy, warm balls slapped against your clit harshly, making you whine even sharper than before. Your own fingers fought their way between your thighs, rubbing tight and fast circles around your abused clit, and it made you quiver around him. The feeling made him growl harshly, and he actually nipped at the back of your shoulder.

"Where do you want it?" he asked.

Confused and partially distracted by your approaching orgasm, you didn't say anything at first, unsure of his meaning until he clarified a stroke or two later.

"Where do you want me to cum, baby?"

You didn't have the brain power to truly string together a sentence, but you did, shockingly, have just enough control to say exactly what he needed to hear to lose himself in you completely:

"Do it inside." you sighed, and it's all he'd needed to hear before absolutely exploding, gripping at you with bruising force and jamming his cock as deep as physically possible inside you. Like the night before, you could taste him filling you up, an electric, almost acidic tang lining the back of your throat as you felt your warm cunt overflow down your thigh.

Again, the two of you clung tightly to one another in the aftershocks, but this time felt different; there were no rivals, no threats to what you had here, only the presence of love and admiration and the pure, unadulterated desire to express those emotions physically. John pretty much immediately collapsed down beside you, his throbbing, softening cock still buried inside you as he held you flush against him, running his tongue along your sweaty, bruised throat and humming.

"Man, you smell sexy like this, all full of me." he murmured, teeth playing along your earlobe. "Y'know, Garvey's lucky his nose isn't as sensitive as mine. I'd take you out there and walk you by him a dozen times just to make a point."

"Oh, John. Don't mention it. It was so embarrassing for everybody involved. He really thought that little chin lift was going to seal the deal and I have to live with the knowledge of that for the rest of my life!" you replied, playfully clamping your thighs on his hand as your cheeks heated.

The smile he flashed you was a warm one, content and confident in a way you didn't often see from the older man. You weren't sure you'd ever known him to be this...gratified.

"I love you, sunshine."

"I love you, too, John." you smiled, settling back against his chest to resume the lazy morning you'd been sharing together before the distraction. Things were quiet again, the only real sound the breeze in the trees, shaking and dancing together joyously as they shaded your perfect hideaway.

[widowsistersandfriends]

Do You Remember Pain?

Request: Your Agatha fic was so cute ! I love the show so far and I was wondering if you could write something between Agatha and Rio ? Maybe something about them talking about the past and discovering again by accident how ticklish they still are ? Or whatever works for you, I’m sure it’ll be amazing ! Have a good day :)

Note: Thank you so much for this request and I appreciate you reading/supporting my fics! I hope you enjoy!! <3

Word Count: 1696

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Agatha and Rio had a long history. Known to be bitter ex wives, the two of them knew each other inside and out.

Agatha hadn’t been expecting Rio to show up to her doorstep with pizza, and most definitely did not expect her to be on the road with her now. She couldn’t believe she had to work with her in order to complete the road. 

The road was dark and quiet, as the coven was all resting for the night. Only Agatha and Rio remained around the dimly lit fire.

“How’s life been treating you?” Rio asked suddenly, after a long and awkward pause. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, you nosy little fake,” Agatha snapped back, still bitter at her.

“Hey woah, I’m just trying to make conversation and make this easier on both of us,” Rio said, putting her hands up defensively. 

“Oh really? You want to make it easier? Why didn't you make it easier by not showing up?” Agatha asked harshly.

As strong as Rio was, she was taken aback by these words, wondering if Agatha still really hated her as much as she portrayed.

“You guys summoned me here. I had no choice,” Rio said flatly. 

Agatha sunk her shoulders slightly forward, knowing that the stress of conquering the road and getting her powers back had made her lash out. There was still part of her deep down inside that cared so much for Rio. She just didn’t know how to express it properly.

After some silence, Agatha spoke up, trying to make things better.

“Did you ever think of me after we split up?” Agatha asked cautiously.

Rio looked out into the distance, biting her lip slightly.

“A little,” Rio admitted.

“Do you?” Rio asked.

“Yes,” Agatha said with a sigh.

“I remember when I first met you. You were hardly the witch you are today,” Rio commented.

“I’m not gonna be a witch again until I get my powers back,” Agatha said.

“Well don’t let me distract you from that,” Rio said.

“I knew you were trying to while riding that stupid stick broom,” Agatha said with disgust.

“Who, me?” Rio asked innocently.

“Don’t try me,” Agatha said. 

Rio gave out a rare chuckle, missing the banter and teasing that used to coat all of their conversations. 

“Do you remember pain?” Rio asked suddenly.

“Physical or emotional?” Agatha asked, making Rio feel guilty.

“I guess I meant physical,” Rio mumbled.

“I’m not sure honestly. After Wanda took my powers and put me under that spell, I don’t even remember certain things,” Agatha said, a slight sadness coating her voice. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt you emotionally. I was trying to protect you and do what’s best for us. I guess I was wrong about that,” Rio confessed. 

“Well, it’s all in the past, right?” Agatha said, as Rio nodded.

“We can work on building the future,” Rio said.

“So do you feel anything at all?” Rio asked.

“What?” Agatha asked, not knowing that they were still on that topic.

“Well you know, other things besides pain,” Rio said.

“What exactly are you getting at?” Agatha asked, suspicious of what Rio was getting at, but not wanting to suggest it in case she was wrong.

“Oh, I don’t know, like if a bug is on you, would you feel that? You know, for defense and protection purposes,” Rio said, looking at the fire.

Agatha smirked, knowing exactly what she was getting at.

“You mean like this?” Agatha asked, placing a spider from the road on Rio’s arm, making her let out an uncharacteristic scream.

“AGATHA!” Rio shouted, jumping up and flicking the bug off of her. Agatha let out a cackle, happy with her success of turning the tables on Rio.

“Did that tickle?” Agatha asked.

“No! I just don’t like poisonous creatures on me,” Rio scoffed.

“You’re just mad I was one step ahead of you,” Agatha said, still chuckling at her reaction. 

Rio got up to move out of her reach, but let out a yelp in pain, as she was barefoot and had stepped on something sharp.

“What’s wrong?” Agatha asked, now genuinely concerned.

“I think I stepped on some sharp thing. This road sucks,” Rio said, checking to see if she was bleeding. 

Agatha walked over to see what it was. She cautiously put her foot on the spot where Rio got hurt. To her surprise, she didn’t feel pain at all. However, much to her dismay, she felt a small tingle on the bottom of her foot. 

Agatha cursed silently in her head when she quickly picked her foot up and removed it from the object. Unfortunately, Rio had seen all of this and it was now her turn to smirk. 

“So I was right. Pain kinda tickles for you, doesn’t it?” Rio asked, walking towards her.

Agatha quickly backed up. “Wait, no let’s talk about this.”

“Too late,” Rio said, using her powers to gently knock Agatha over and then pin her.

“Get off of me you hag!” Agatha exclaimed.

“Wow, your vocab really shines when you’re scared,” Rio teased, as Agatha was pinned face down. Rio moved to sit on her calves, giving her full access to her feet.

“Rio I mean it! This is your last warning!” Agatha shouted.

“Better keep quiet, the others are sleeping. You wouldn’t want them finding out about this would you?” Rio asked, now skittering her nails over Agatha’s soles.

Agatha tried her hardest to keep her laugh in, giggles, snorts and yelps all escaping her lips.

“Come on Agatha, just let it out,” Rio demanded, moving up to tickle under her toes.

This made Agatha lose it, bursting into hysterical laughter, very fitting for a witch. 

“RIHIHIO! STAHAHAP NOW!!” Agatha demanded, not being so scary anymore.

“So you are still ticklish huh?” Rio asked, knowing how much Agatha hated this. 

“NOHOHO NOW GEHEHET OHOHOFF,” Agatha squealed out.

“Hmm, no I think I still have some other spots to check,” Rio said, now turning around to tickle her sides and ribs. Agatha cursed and went into a new fit of laughter.

Her laughter was so loud that neither one of them noticed that it had woken up the others in the coven and they had come over to see what all the noise was about. Billy, Lilia, Alice, and Jen were all hiding behind some bushes so they wouldn’t be seen.

“What on earth is happening?” Lilia asked, genuinely concerned.

“I guess the big bad witch is…ticklish?” Jen answered, as all of them were not used to this rare sight.

Rio finally had mercy on Agatha when she threatened to spill all her secrets to the public.

Rio chuckled, getting off of Agatha. “I can’t believe you’re that ticklish!” Rio exclaimed.

“Yeah? How ticklish are you huh? Don’t think you can fool me with that whole spiel about poisonous bugs,” Agatha said, tackling Rio and pinning her on her back.

“Of course you decided to pin me where my boobs are right in your face,” Rio said with an eye roll. That set Agatha off, immediately reaching down to tickle her ribs.

“NO WAHAHAIT,” Rio pleaded.

“Not so tough now?” Agatha asked, loving to see Rio’s rare toothy grin.

“IHIH AHAHAM TOHOUGH,” Rio giggled out, not making a very strong case.

“Really? Tough enough to handle tickles on your armpits?” Agatha asked, moving her hands up and making Rio scream and thrash as much as she could.

“STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEASE,” Rio shouted, hating the sensation and hating the fact that she couldn’t appear tough. 

“Don’t forget who’s in charge,” Agatha whispered in her ear, making her flinch.

“YOHOURE THE BOHOTTOM,” Rio argued back, but was quickly cut off, as Agatha began to spider over her tummy and squeeze her hips.

“OKAHAHAY STAHAHAP MEHERCY,” Rio quickly pleaded, as Agatha smirked triumphantly.

“I win again, just like old times,” Agatha said, taunting her by booping her nose. The gesture was so utterly unlike Agatha it made the whole coven gasp.

“What was that?” Agatha asked quickly, now fearing that the Salem seven had returned. Rio and Agatha quickly had their guard up, scanning the area. The coven tried to quickly disperse and pretend like they were sleeping, however, Lilia tripped over a rock when trying to escape. Jen gasped and quickly caught her, but the commotion was too much.

“Lilia!” Jen hissed at her.

“I’m sorry but there’s common misconceptions about witches and one of them is that we are perfectly graceful. I’m proof that we are not,” Lilia explained, as Alice hushed them and told them to get down. Agatha and Rio were getting closer.

The wind began to blow slightly, stirring the leaves around them. A leaf blew past Billy’s head, making him scream as he thought it was a bat. 

“AAAAAHHH! IM TOO PRETTY TO DIE!” Teen screamed, making all the others scream and run.

“What the,” Agatha commented, watching her coven disperse in different directions.

“HEY!” Agatha shouted, making them all stop and turn.

“Were you spying on us?” Agatha asked in disbelief.

“I don’t think spying is the right word,” Billy said with a small chuckle.

“We just may have seen your tickle fight, but it was so cute, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Alice explained, sugar coating it as much as she could.

“I would’ve gotten rid of all of you by now if I wasn’t on the road,” Agatha scoffed, as Rio chuckled softly. 

“Hey, don’t laugh, they saw you too. You’re worse than me!” Agatha argued to Rio.

“You’re the only one here who’s embarrassed by it though,” Rio commented, smirking as she saw Agatha blush.

“Can we just continue on with the road? I’m not here to bond with any of you,” Agatha said, walking ahead.

“I’ve got her wrapped around my finger, don’t you guys worry about a thing. She won’t lay a finger on you guys with me around,” Rio assured the coven, as they followed after Rio.

“Wait, we didn’t even get to sleep,” Lilia complained.

“Sleep is for the weak!” Agatha shouted from up ahead. With that, they continued down the road, secrets and all. 

———————————————————————-

If you’ve made it this far and enjoy my writing please consider supporting it on my kofi!

[makeyoumine69]

Till Death Do Us Part (Chapter Six)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader; [no y/n]

SUMMARY: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it".

CONTAINS: Smut, masturbation (f&m), swearing, mild violence, abusive usage of phobias, obsessives & toxic behavior, sexual tension, love/hate, angst, gaslighting, mind manipulations.

WORDS: 5.2k

A/N: Hey guys! I'm still struggling with my health issues, but I'll try my best to keep up with the updates! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

Oh, great, now I have to explain everything to him.

You were taken aback by his sudden curiosity and accidentally burned your finger on the hot pan. Startled, you squealed and brought it to your lips to blow on it. "Uh, I..." You turned and noticed how close Bateman was standing to you—dangerously close. 

I should tell him everything, shouldn't I? 

You swallowed hard and went to the sink to put your finger under cold water. "When I got here after work to pack up my things..." You paused to take a deep breath. "The door was open, so that's how I got in. Then I saw a girl, who I think was a prostitute, going through your things. She had your Rolex and a few other things. I caught her in the act and asked her to leave your things and go away." As you talked, the line between Patrick's eyebrows became more and more visible. "After she left, I found you unconscious in your bedroom, naked and covered in...well, it looks like you had a good time with that girl." You tried to hide the sadness in your voice, but you were okay with failing if that's what it took. 

"You were teetering on the edge of life and death, Patrick. It was really lucky that I knew how to resuscitate people in that condition, but you scared me so much," and now you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. You were sobbing as you turned off the tap and grabbed a paper towel. "It's none of my business what you do with your life, especially now that our wedding is off. But I... I don't want you to..." you stammered, not daring to finish the sentence. "Never mind," you added, wiping away the tears. "I was just doing my job." With that, you opened the cupboard to get some plates for the pasta.

As you spoke, Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his brows. "Christ, what a bitch..." He muttered to himself, trying to remember what the prostitute he'd picked up even looked like. The man let out a sigh. "Well, maybe, but I don't even remember how the sex was, so it must not have been that amazing." He gave a dismissive wave with his hands. Then he paused when you mentioned that he'd almost died. He swallowed hard and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "Oh..." Patrick closed his eyes to try to remember. He had a vague recollection of discovering a baggie of an unknown substance in his closet. He let out a groan and ran his hand over his face. "Oh my God..." "He mumbled quietly to himself, shaking his head slowly. He frowned and then noticed you were crying, squinting slightly. Bateman wasn't as bothered by your tears this time, but he didn't offer any comfort. He cleared his throat and glanced down. "Well, my mother said we can't cancel the wedding. We'd have to go through with it." He paused, then continued, "I don't know why I said that... It just came out before I could stop myself." Maybe it was how you seemed to care about him that softened him…or the fact that you saved him.

When Patrick announced that he couldn't cancel the wedding, you were so shocked that you dropped the plate and it shattered into pieces with a loud crack.

FUCK! He's gonna kill me! 

Shaking, you swore to yourself and immediately crouched down to pick up the pieces until one of them cut your finger quite deeply, a trail of blood running down your hand almost instantly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll buy you another plate," you apologized, wrapping your injured finger in a paper towel, which soaked up your blood too quickly, but you didn't notice. "My mom... I gave her a call to let her know that it was all over. She likely called your mother and convinced her not to cancel anything. This is such a mess!" You pressed a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from crying, knowing that Bateman couldn't stand that kind of behavior. "I'll take care of it." You promised and went back to picking up the broken glass, ignoring the pain and the fact that you were bleeding.

Paralyzed, Patrick watched you drop the plate and his face twitched a little. He recalled purchasing the plate from Pottery Barn. It cost $75. He then watched as you cut yourself, pursing his lips in a gesture of disapproval. The man suddenly burst out laughing, amused by the absurdity of the situation. Bateman shook his head and tapped your back with his foot. "Ah, you're such a fucking mess..." He chuckled, then bent down and grabbed your arm gently but firmly enough to pull you up to your feet. "Why don't you go clean up in the bathroom? I'll take care of this."  Patrick pointed to the broken plate. "But you owe me 75 dollars, okay?" He took the broom from the closet nearby and started sweeping up the pieces. "Just give your mother a call and let her know about the change of plans." He spoke in a calm, collected manner.

$75? For the fucking plate? 

Frowning, you walked across the living room to your large medical kit, still open from the last time you used it to save Patrick from death. With true professionalism, you quickly cleaned your wound and wrapped the bandage around your finger. Then you sneaked into his bedroom, avoiding his eyes because you were so embarrassed, and picked up the phone to call your mother. That conversation shocked you, because the things she told you were something you really didn't want to happen so soon. Hanging up the phone, you sighed and put it down before returning to the kitchen where Patrick was already eating pasta—the sight stirred something warm in your heart, but you shook it off almost immediately. Approaching the kitchen island, you placed the money next to the Bateman's plate. "Here, $75," you said, leaning against the wall. "I called my mom, she said that...that our families want us to hurry up with the wedding." Rebecca closed her eyes and hugged herself. "I don't want to, Patrick, I'm not ready..."

The man tensed when he heard your voice and turned to you, noodles still hanging from his mouth. He covered his mouth with his hand as he ate, a little embarrassed, before taking the money. "Uh, thanks..." Patrick was about to compliment your cooking, but stopped himself. He cleared his throat and scratched his neck, looking away. "Well..." Bateman thought for a moment, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I...I can take some time off work and we can...I don't know...get to know each other better. "

You rubbed your eyes wearily, your heart skipping a beat at Bateman's suggestion that you spend some time together, as if it would help you get to know each other better. Although you were ready to refuse his offer, something stopped you, but you weren't sure what it was? Your true feelings for him? Or maybe you were so tired from your work at the hospital and your studies that you just wanted to relax a bit. "That's... that's not a bad idea," you finally said and went to the kitchen to get a plate, and this time you even managed not to break it. "Remember when we were kids, we used to hang out at your family's summer house in Newport?" you asked, opening the pot to get some spaghetti. "I wish I could spend some time there again, it's such a fascinating place," you considered sitting next to Bateman, but then changed your mind and decided to eat standing up. "I guess I could ask for some time off, but... I have exams coming up, so... I have to study anyway." You suddenly giggled and looked at him playfully. "Maybe you could help me? I mean, since I have already treated you."

The man quickly finished his plate and dabbed at his mouth with his silk napkin, monogrammed with his initials in the corner. Then he looked up at you and shook his head. "Uh, no...no, I can't say that I really... remember." Patrick mumbled slowly, closing his eyes as if he was trying to remember something about his childhood, but it was all blocked. When he tried to think about school, playing in the sand, running around, the only memories that came back to him were making reservations, going to the gym, and killing a prostitute—all things that happened days ago. Or was it weeks? Maybe a month. He sighed. "But Price has that vacation house in the Hamptons. I've been there... it's... nice..." He shrugged nonchalantly, hiding his jealousy. With a wry grin, Bateman stood and walked over to the sink, setting his plate down. "Uh..." He paused, then beamed back at you. "Of course I can help." The charming facade he maintained hid his fear. He didn't really know anything about the medical field, but he didn't want to admit it—he hated not being in control of a situation.

Three days later, you finally decided to go to the Hamptons, where Tim's vacation house was waiting for you. Even though you didn't understand why it was necessary to get a limousine for your trip, it gave you some time to think about things - the last few days, to be exact. In all those days Patrick hadn't touched you, not even once. And how many times did you end up crying in bed at night because Bateman was somewhere else and not with you? Well, you were pretty sure he was with Courtney, and even when he usually came back in the morning or at night, the man never bothered to notice your swollen eyes. But why should he have? It was obvious that you were just not hot enough for him, not perfect enough - nothing seemed to be perfect enough for him. As the car took you farther and farther away from New York, you turned to look at the man next to you listening to the music, his Walkman clasped tightly in his hands. "Are we going to be alone in the house... or... are you expecting someone to join us?" You didn't know why you asked, and for a moment you even hoped that Patrick wouldn't notice your question because of the music.

Opening his tired eyes, Bateman glanced down at you and slid the headset to his shoulder. "Alone. I mean.. most of the time, at least." He smiled as the limo rolled to a stop on a paved driveway. 

The house was four stories tall, the tallest story being a glass terrace with a bar, swimming pool, and other amenities inside. The house was white with marble accents and oddly shaped windows- a contemporary dream. Patrick grumbled, jealous of the luxuriousness of the house. He put a ten dollar bill in the driver's hand and grabbed all the luggage with ease. 

"Don't be too impressed...I heard Price just inherited it from his parents." The man was lying, but he didn't want you to compare his place to Tim's beach house. It embarrassed him a little. But he took some comfort in the fact that his body was slightly better than Tim's, and that his hair wasn't thinning at all, while Tim's was. Patrick opened the door with his foot and stepped out, his hands and arms full of suitcases and bags. He walked to the front door and stopped in front of it. Sighing, Bateman looked at you with an embarrassed look. "Uh, the key is in my back pocket if you want to get it." He turned his hips towards you, the black pants he was wearing stretching around his toned legs and backside. His white button-up was tucked inside the pants, showing off his perfectly muscled body. "Ladies first."

Rolling your eyes, you took a deep breath before reaching into the pocket of Bateman's tight pants, surely feeling the firm ass that made your face burn from shame. "I hope I can handle this." You commented after pulling out the keys and searching for the one that would open the front door, trying not to look at him as you grew more and more embarrassed. 

Thankfully, the lock clicked and you both stepped inside. A bit later, you allowed yourself to look around the house, although Patrick refused to go with you as he remained in the living room not far from the bar. Trying to cheer yourself up, you went upstairs and paused by one of the doors before opening it with sheer confidence. As you stepped inside, a beautiful large room came into your vision. 

What an amazing bedroom.

You thought, as you walked around, looking at the satin sheets that yearned to be touched. As you did so, the smooth fabric felt amazing under your fingers and your lewd fantasies occupied your mind faster than you could stop them. Closing your eyes, you pressed the palm of your hand to your mouth as you indulged in your dirtiest fantasy, where you was were out on the bed and Bateman worshiped every little part of your “imperfect” body before ravaging you until you were nothing but a whimpering wet mess. 

STOP IT! 

Annoyed, you gave yourself an imaginary slap before turning to leave the room, your cheeks burning from the inside. As soon as you opened the door and walked out, you bumped into something very hard. Only then did you realize it was Patrick, and the sound of splashing drink made your heart stop. "Oh my God! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you coming!" You wailed, looking up at his stained shirt and empty glass of something that smelled strong enough to be alcohol.

So that’s it. He’ll definitely kick me out of the house.

The alcohol made the stain on his shirt translucent, exposing his pecs and abs. The man stared at you for a second, inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them again and shook his head. "It's-it's fine. I packed enough shirts for our time here. Really, it's fine.." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, flexing his muscles slightly. "This shirt was on sale anyway... just, uh, be more careful next time..." He balled the shirt in his hands and tossed it into a nearby laundry basket. "Go unpack your things. You can have this room." Bateman pointed to the bedroom behind you.

Ashamed, you just nodded and hurried downstairs to get your bag, but when you came back Patrick was gone. 

Maybe it's for the best?

You hummed and went into the bedroom to unpack your things, noticing that everything in the bag looked so messy. Perplexed, you couldn't believe that Bateman could go through your things, he simply didn't find you interesting, so why would he waste his time on such things? Sighing sadly, you finished unpacking and grabbed a medical book, reassuring yourself that after your latest failure it was better to stay here and not bother him. All this time you had hoped the man would pay you a visit, but he didn't. 

Meanwhile, Patrick was upstairs, choosing his own room. The man put his clothes away and opened the other suitcase he had brought, which was full of his other... necessities. Inside were some porn tapes, magazines, a kitchen knife, a CZ-75 handgun, a bottle of lube, a pack of condoms, all his skin care products, and a pair of leather gloves. Humming, Bateman took off his black pants and wrapped himself in a silk robe. He grabbed one of the tapes and looked around his room, expecting a TV and VCR player. Frustrated, he huffed when he didn't find any.

That cheap bastard!

The man thought contemptuously and went downstairs when he saw that you weren't there. He sighed with relief and sat down on the couch in the living room and put the tape in. Then he untied his robe and pulled down his boxers, biting his lip as cold air hit his cock. The tape started playing, something he'd seen a hundred times before, but it still got him worked up. Thunder rumbled outside, shaking the house. He wondered for a moment if you were afraid of the thunder or if you were trying to sleep through it. Patrick shook the thought out of his head and focused on the screen, moving his hand up and down his now erect cock robotically, used to the now normal routine he was going through. He closed his eyes, blocking out any sounds other than the lewd moaning coming from the TV. He thought of Bethany, then Evelyn, then Courtney, then Bethany again, then... you. Moaning softly, Bateman thought of your ass, your tits, your face—it was almost enough to push him over the edge. The thought felt taboo to him, a forbidden attraction. Inflamed, he groaned and tilted his head back against the sofa, eyes closed, his jaw clenched in a face of pleasure as he moved his hand faster.

Unaware of what was happening downstairs, you read the book, lost track of time, and passed out on the bed for a few minutes, but soon your sleep was disturbed by the loud clap of thunder.

God, is this a monsoon season or something?  

You grumbled and got up to turn on the light, shaking with fear because you couldn't control yourself and you hated being alone during thunderstorms. Then you quickly regained your composure and left the room to go downstairs and maybe make a cup of green tea. As you entered the living room, you heard a lewd sound that turned out to be a woman's moaning. Embarrassed, you couldn't believe it - had Bateman really brought some of his chicks here on the very first day? Slowly you crept around the corner and spotted Patrick sitting on the black leather couch with his back to her, but from his twitching movements she could tell he was masturbating, watching porn on the big TV. Panting, you had to cover your mouth to avoid being noticed, but somehow you were sure Bateman heard her nervous gasps. Patrick's throaty groan sent shivers down your spine and you didn't know what to do as your mind screamed an alarm telling you to just come back to your room but you couldn't move as if you were stuck to that fucking wall. Breathlessly you felt your hard nipples brush against the thin fabric of your white top and you couldn't ignore the fire in your core any longer, letting your fingers slip into your panties soaked with your flavor. The moment you touched your swollen nub, you couldn't stop yourself from moaning, thinking that Patrick wouldn't be able to differentiate your moans from the lewd sounds of porn. Hot and bothered, you didn't notice that you were slowly sliding down the wall to the floor, your fingers continuing to rub your clit in unison with Bateman's guttural growl. "Mhmm, Patty..." you mewled out a little louder than you expected, and when you heard everything go silent, you stopped moving before carefully rising to your feet.

Suddenly, Bateman's eyes flew open at the sound of an unrecognizable moan, the sound breaking him from his reverie. He removed his hand from his cock and pursed his lips into a tight line, staring at the lewd scene before him. Then the man shifted so that he was sitting on his knees, the front of his body pressed against the back of the sofa so that he could get a better look at... you. As you stood up, he watched you with a penetrating gaze. "Rebecca... sweetheart, love of my life..." Patrick crooned softly, a smile creeping across his face. "Were you... spying on me again?" He raised an eyebrow at the sudden rush of confidence running through his veins. He stood up, staying behind the couch so as not to intimidate you with his naked form. "Rebecca..." He murmured slowly, his voice comforting yet unsettling. "If you are... attracted to me... you can say so. This is the second time I've caught you pleasuring yourself over me. Am I right? The second time?"

Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes and fixed your top and panties. "What will it change if I say that?" you suddenly rejoined, shuddering at the bright flash of lightning, your hands clawing at the nearby wall. 

Patrick tied the robe back around his waist, keeping his eyes on you, and put his hands on his hips, now annoyed. "Uh, a lot, actually." He sneered at you. "If you would just be honest with yourself, and me, then we can end this…this game of facades."

"No, it will change…nothing." As the word fell from your trembling lips, you walked away before Bateman could see the tears streaming down your sad, twitching face. 

Without looking back, you  hurried back upstairs to your room, where you curled up on the king-size bed, crying as you tucked yourself under the covers. 

Get out of my head, get fucking out!

Trembling, you closed your ears, but the pornographic moans continued to spin in your head along with Patrick’s growling as he jerked off, as if that was not enough, your mind decided to make you suffer even more by adding the picture of Courtney making out with Bateman as if it was happening right in front of your eyes. 

"Fucking bastard, I hate you!" You spat through your gritted teeth and clutched the pillow with all your might.

As you walked away, Patrick sighed, exasperated and annoyed. Women always annoyed him with their emotions. Cursing to himself, he followed you to your temporary room, pausing when he heard you scream at the door. Shaking off the urge to go into full violence mode, Bateman knocked on the door. "Rebecca, come out. You're hysterical." He kept his voice calm, even though he really wanted to yell at you - tell you how stupid you were. "Let's just... y'know, talk, okay?"

The moment you heard his voice, all of your insides clenched into a tight knot, forcing you to tremble under the covers. "Leave me..." you wanted to say something else but you paused suddenly, as if your inner nature was protesting and refusing to obey, not allowing you to finish what you were about to say. "Uh, fuck!" you cursed, pulling the blanket away before sauntering to the door to open it. 

Sobbing, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that Bateman was smart enough to put on a robe, at least he didn't make you suffer from seeing him naked. "You want to talk?" you asked, briefly wiping away your tears. "Let's talk. Have you hired a hooker yet? That's why you decided to warm up with porn?" You crossed your arms like him. "How did you get like this, Patrick? How could money and wealth change you so much?"

Bateman frowned at the accusation. "What? No, of course not. I don't even know any in this area." He closed his eyes tightly for a moment to stave off the impending headache before opening them again. "I just... I have needs, Rebecca. I'm a man with needs...and I didn't want to spend money on a hooker, and you...well, I don't know if you'd even..." He paused and sighed. "You're so...frustrating. You treat me like a monster, but then you jerk off to me!. I don't... it's hard to... you know... read you." His eyes widened slightly. "Change me? I can... assure you, nothing has changed." Bateman smiled, but inside he felt like a bundle of nerves ready to spring. Has he changed? If he had, he couldn't remember. "And I've always had money, in case you forgot!"

You’re worse than a monster.

You thought, biting your lower lip. "Speaking of needs," you leaned against the door, not noticing that your hard nipples were visible through the white top. "I have them too, especially when I'm ovulating, but I'm not driven by them! We're humans, not animals!" 

"Oh my God, oh my fucking God." Bateman muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not driven by them. I have a high sex drive, okay? If I want to spend the night with a hardbody, is that so wrong, Rebecca? Are you...jealous, huh? Is that the problem?" He was getting angry now, his jaw clenching as he spoke. "I know you're a virgin, so you could never understand, but I want to be distracted. My life is a living hell and I want to feel something. Do you understand?"

You scowled as the memory of the recent incident with the hooker flashed through your mind. "I remember when I came to your apartment and that prostitute was about to rob you...you were unconscious in your bedroom, covered in your...semen and completely wasted." With that you sighed and ran a hand over your face. "This is so wrong and disgusting, Patrick." Your voice was laced with pain and sadness, but you managed to keep your composure as you stepped back into the room. "If I lie on this fucking bed right now and tell you that you can do whatever you want to me... will that stop this madness?" You swallowed the fresh tears and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Just break my neck and tell your lawyer it was an accident so my family and you can get money from my life insurance. Come on! Do it!" You continued to taunt him fearlessly. "'Cause I'm...so fucking tired of this life...of my dearest family...I hate...I HATE YOU! ALL OF YOU!"

Patrick exhaled and then stepped back, watching you mentally collapse. Then he came closer, leaned down and slapped you hard with the palm of his hand. "Pull yourself together..." He said slowly, so you could hear every word. "I know you're a... you're a smart woman... but you're hysterical. If you keep this up, I... I don't know what I'm going to do. " Bateman murmured in a defeated tone, staring at you with an almost pleading look.

Once his heavy palm met your face, you could see stars in front of your eyes, but you didn't make a sound. You just touched your bleeding lower lip and looked at the blood on the outside of your hand. "Don't you dare..." you hissed and quickly stood up. "...to touch me again!" And then you slapped his face in return, your palm burning from the force of the blow. 

Shocked, Patrick stumbled to the side from the slap, holding his cheek. He stayed still, slowly bringing his hand to his lips. The man pulled his hand away, seeing a dot of blood on his finger. Rage overtook him.

"Not the face..."

"I'll call the cops and you will rot in jail, you fucking psycho!"  Scared to death, you were about to rush to the nearby bathroom, but you twisted your ankle and fell to the floor, frowning from the sharp pain. With a muffled whimper, you  attempted to crawl away from Bateman, knowing that he would probably kill you here and now.

Now…Everything will be finally over.

"Not the face..." He muttered again before whipping his body around just as you fell to the ground. "NOT THE FACE YOU BITCH! YOU- PIECE OF TRASH!" Bateman roared, stomping towards your trembling little frame. Infuriated, he tilted his head and stepped on your back, stopping your movements. He watched you through the red veil, his face contorted with rage. After a moment, his features softened. Under normal circumstances, he would kill you. No question about it. But these were no normal circumstances. Patrick reached down and grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you to the nearby bathroom and pushing you inside.

There were no windows, just a toilet, a sink and a mirror. "You... stay in here and think about what you just did." He said through his teeth, staring at you with intense anger. "I brought us here for you. I tried to do something nice for you. But you can't appreciate anything I do, can you? I am... trying my best here, Rebecca. But you treat me like some... monster. Just because I hire prostitutes? Is that it?" Bateman scoffed, then sighed. "When you're ready to apologize, you'll get an ice pack on your ankle. Until then... enjoy your solitude, I guess." Then he closed the door, took a key from the table and locked the door from the outside.

It was only when you heard the lock click and the light go out that you realized you were trapped in the dark bathroom...alone. And worst of all, you had a fear of the dark, Patrick probably forgot about this—just like all moments you shared in childhood. As you heard his distant footsteps, you spiraled more and more into the panic attack, feeling your lungs spasm painfully from your rapid breathing. 

Calm down, Rebecca! Calm down! It's just the darkness, there's no one here but you.

You tried to count to ten, but couldn't as your mind didn’t function, stuck on the horrifying images of being trapped here forever. 

What if he left me here to die? In this fucking bathroom?

Frightened, you sobbed, biting your lips to stifle your crying, not wanting to give Bateman the pleasure of hearing you. The metallic taste of the blood almost made you gag, along with the surrounding darkness that pressed down on you like a heavy press. Shaking, you slipped to the floor and hugged your knees, pressing them closer to your chest as you curled up on the cold floor like an embryo. 

I will not ask him to let me out...I will not! I...can...hold on...I'm strong enough to make it through!

Your cries barely audible, shaking violently as you were so fucking scared and broken, mentally and physically, that it seemed you would never see the light of day, locked here forever. How pathetic and stupid it would be to die like that…

At the same time, Patrick sighed and ran his hand over his face as he sat down on the bed. Frustrated, the man crossed his leg over the other, bouncing them slightly as he looked at the still image on the TV from the paused pornography. He drummed his fingers against the side of his head, raising an eyebrow as a memory came back to him like a freight train—you were scared of the dark and he forgot to turn the lights on in the bathroom. Bateman cursed himself, glancing back at the locked door. He didn't want to send you into hysterics, he wanted to do the opposite actually—give you time to think about how much you were overreacting. Patrick stared at the door for a few moments before standing up, walking back to it. He hesitated, the key hovering over the door knob. Then, the man swallowed his pride and unlocked it, opening the door a smidge and putting his hand against the bathroom wall, flicking on the light switch. He quickly closed the door again, not locking it this time as he pressed his body against the wall next to it. 

Closing his eyes, Bateman sighed softly, his chest movements slowing down. "What the hell is wrong with me?" 

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED SEVENTEEN FICS OF AUGUST 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my recs for seventeen for august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Dare You || @dontflailmenow🔞💕✅💯

↳ One dare. One night. One creepy, people-died-here, dilapidated house. Two reluctant explorers. Of course it’s Halloween.

Keep It Quiet || @jaemified🔞💕✅💯

↳ you and seungcheol never liked taking risks, especially with 8 of his 12 roommates home. but, up until your self control couldn’t handle it anymore, you both found it was best to keep it quiet.

Laundry Room || @ikigaisvt🔞💕✅

↳ in which your husband is really good at cleaning - and he looks hot doing so.

Taking Care of Their S/O having Foot Pain From Their Heels || @wheeboo💕✅

↳ Anon Req: heyy there! your blog is amazing <3 i recently went to a party and wore a new pair of very uncomfortable 4in heels for like five to six hours ( ended up getting cuts and blisters :’)) so may I request svt members reacting to s/o who tortured their feet in heels for a party? tysm<3 

Your Cherry Flavored Kisses || @hannyoontify💕✅

↳ as his mom always said, kisses are the best kind of medicine for boo-boos

I Hate U, I Love U || @wonusite🔞💕💔✅

↳ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go.

The Very First Night || @shuadrive💕💔✅

↳ the search for a new place to live takes a turn for the worse when the only person willing to split rent with you is your ex-boyfriend.

Close Proximity || @chilligyu💕💔✅

↳ when she first met mingyu, she didn’t know what to expect. she was desperate for a roommate, he needed a place to stay. they were exactly what the other needed, in more ways than one.

Contusion Confusion || @seungkwansphd💕💔✅

↳ your clumsy lab partner left a bruise on you. seungcheol seems disproportionately upset by it, but it makes way more sense once you understand why.

Jihoon's Puppy || @rubyreduji💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ jihoon can’t seem to shake the puppy dog who keeps following him around or the teasing he gets for it

Kidult || @hoeforhao💕💔✅💯

↳ can trying to relive the childhood you never got to experience, through your daughter be the reason of your husband's irk?

Real Eyes, Fake Lies || @wooataes💕💔🔄💯

↳ What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

Willow || @wongyuuu💕💔✅

↳ seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

Your Games Suck: Next Level || @onlymingyus🔞✅💯💯

↳ (no summary but just think, wonwoo and seungcheol???. yes please.)

I'm Dating Woozi || @jihoonotes💕✅

↳ y/n is in a public relationship w/ woozi of SVTZ and decides to make a twitter acc to support jihoon, but SVTZ fans seem to think they're delusional.

Pang! || @kkumawrites💕💔✅

↳ You'd consider yourself a simple college student, a freshman who just wants to survive their first year - but things get complicated when you're suddenly falling for someone you definitely shouldn't be, especially since he has a girlfriend already.

Yearning || @jihoonotes💕💔✅💯

↳ for yn it was love at first sight, but for jihoon it was annoyed at first sight.. oops?

[Tales From The Pack] Soonyoung: Imperfect || @gamerwoo🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Soonyoung has always been desperate to find his mate, often going out into town at night to fill the void of imprinting that he craves so much. Then suddenly, you (quite literally) appear in front of him. He’d always dreamed and fantasized about what having his mate would be like, but the reality is nothing like he expected.

Do check out all of the other seventeen fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[missmarveledsblog]

It's just pretend right ? (Bucky Barnes x reader) part 5

summary : after an amazing day the terror twins come to bring kitty's world and everything she has known crashing to the world making her run off and face a past she's never known while she discovers a new "gift" , bucky find out she not the only one .

warning : this one is angsty i'm sorry but it for the plot i promise it not all angst , violence and shitty family .

Previous part

To say tony stark spent his day digging through everything and anything wouldn’t be a lie , they man had to give it to fury , he had the file completely locked but he’s tony stark  of course he found a way in and he suddenly wished he never did . He wished he could have gone back to be in the dark because what was hidden made his stomach twist and turn and it was all  information on a person he considered family.  How was he going to tell her this without breaking her beautiful stubborn little heart breaking the bonds and trust she’s had all these years. He read it over and over wishing it was some sick prank but when Nick fury walked into the lab the look on his face only confirmed it. 

“ How long did you know” was all he said, making Bruce look at the men in confusion. 

“ you shouldn’t be hacking the servers stark that file was not meant to be read”. 

“ does she know what’s in those files  the ones you hide very well i might add but not well enough” he crossed and uncrossed his arms frankly wanting to punch someone or something.  

“She has no idea and it’s not for us to tell her” fury stood tall on the issue . 

“ So what , you're just going to have agents looking after her and hope she doesn’t notice , well hate to tell you buddy she did” he scoffed. 

“ What are you talking about Stark? I never had agents watching her. the whole point of it no one  knowing  where she was” fury stopped face dropping . 

“ These aren’t your vehicles because their registers with shields” he turned the screen. 

“ Jesus for a genius you're a dumbass sometimes that’s a list of known vehicles we’ve had on watch list not inventory , how long she notices these”. 

“ Since she was a kid, she just thinks it is one of those strange routine things , what or who is watching her fury” Bruce gritted his teeth. 

“ hydra” he sighed. 

 “ we have to tell her” . 

“ Just let's think of a plan , she's safe now with nat and the guys” tony sighed not really knowing what to do.

 “ We need to tell them tony. "I know i’ll send the file, let her family give her the chance to tell her, i better go to see if they need back up  “ he felt his own heart fall into his stomach as he pulled his phone out . 

Walking into the kitchen nat gave her a quick hello before answering the phone and rushing out the room.  

“ How was the church?” her mother smiled. 

“ I didn't go in , me and Bucky walked around town and had lunch” she smiled brightly. 

“  Let me guess bacon burger and milkshake”.

 “ most definitely shared stories of the past and even had grandma laughing” she sat . “ Maybe she is dying,” Izzy mused as Maya slapped her arm . 

“ we were talking about pop pop , wonder if he would be proud of me” her eyes fell to  her hands in her lap . 

“ Would he, that’s a stupid question , he’d be down the bars and fishing lake bragging majorly at his kitty kicking ass  and saving the world” .

 “actually kicking names and taking ass” she chuckled, only for them to be confused as the inside joke. 

All of her years being in the life she had moments she loved and moments she hated  and as she looked at the file on the jet computer this was a moment she despised completely.  The moment in time finding out her close friend represented her own in a way , a family raising her for an evil organization yet this time it was prolonged .  how was she going to explain to her best friend her life was basically a lie , that the ones she loved were just pretending to care . 

“ What is this” was all she heard, turning to see Steve and Bucky standing completely shocked at the words on the screen of the jet's computer. 

“ This is why she has been followed ,  she’s an experiment from hydra god i hate that even came out of my mouth because she’s not , she’s  our Y/N “ nat sighed. 

“ what?” . 

“ she’s a experiment , her mother is a test subject , they pumped her full of serums under the guise of being some new drug for expectant mothers but she died during the childbirth and well Y/N was kept so they could continue it that was  now she must be with host family” nat growled the last parted . 

“ we have to tell her , i mean this is a big thing to hide” bucky feet heading towards the door only to look up and see her father standing looking like the color vacated his face. 

“ explain” nat growled .

“ Where's dad?” she asked, seeing the two boys coming into the kitchen . 

“ He's on that jet seeing if the others are coming in” Jack shrugged. 

“ probably showing off” she mused but still she felt her eyes looking to the door. 

“I’ll get them” she smiled softly, kissing her mothers cheek before heading out to the door.  Just as she stepped off the porch the car stopped in front of her screeching . 

 “ YOU DRUGGED US”  the voice screamed as she felt her heart beating and her body shaking.

 “ you insolent child , what was the soldiers attention on my daughters too much? '' her aunt's voice called coming toward her . then the world went a mumbling and muttering like she was underwater , she could hear the protest of cassie sort of but the fear in her had her in almost like internal bubble. 

 “ hey back the fuck up before i pull those dollar store extensions out of your head” she heard izzy voice standing before her and jessies arms around her pulling her back to earth .  

“ she made a fool of us in front of the avengers because of her vendetta against us” leah screeched. 

“ vendetta you almost killed her” izzy growled  the whole commotion as they stood out of the jet. 

“ whats going on? '' Nat asked, coming to her side for the first time ever seeing the powerhouse she knew all these years, shaking like a scared child . 

“ i don’t know why you think you're so special , you’ll never be one of us. ''Emma cried, holding her still sore stomach. 

“ i don’t know why you hate her but she is family. '' Izzy went to dive at the woman but Jack held her back. 

'' You're still feeding them that crap” her aunt scoffed. 

“ what are you talking about? '' Jessie spat. 

“ she is not one of us..”. 

'' Shut up, don't be so cold, let us tell her '' her mother cried . 

“ what you talkin about tell her .. what’s going on” she felt the world spinning completely , everything so much as her knees threatening to fail holding her up .

 “ Mom, stop this is ridiculous , I wish I was never part of you guys” cassie cried. 

“ live somewhere else hey sis since you take unwanted dumpster babies you can take one more”. “ mama” y/n spun around. 

“ What is going on” Jessie snapped. 

“ Well your mom and dad found her in a dumpster and we all had to pretend she was our family, sad really” Emma snarled . 

“ mama” she asked again looking for the woman to tell her it was a sick lie but the look she gave her was  there was truth in there words . “ It was all a lie” she asked, feeling the stinging tears falling down her cheeks . “ i  can’t breathe” she pushed off her brother walking away from the gang of her family or where they are strangers now. She didn’t listen to the calls from her or the fighting going on behind her.  Her skin becoming brighter as the flames took over not letting anything or one come closer it was all too much . she started running straight to the one thing she could always depend on and  gripping  the reigns in her hands  and belting out jumping over the cars ignoring the cries and pleading to come back .  

She knew something was always off , how she was always treated so differently . Never accepted nor values and only got worse when she got her “gifts” . The way they could never be proud of her , she could solve world hunger and bring peace to the universe And they would still find a way to find a way to criticize her. Everything she tried To get their approval it was met with a wall and disapproving scowls. It all made sense but her parents to Keep something so big , so major away from her.  It was soul destroying why would they keep It , where were her birth parents why didn't they want her? She heard the car Coming she turned slightly relieved That it wasn't a familiar one except it beep spooking Star as she turned to see the incoming branch so quick she couldn't miss it only for it to hit her head And send her straight to the ground as the horse kept going. 

“ oh shit my bad” the voice called. 

“ well you shouldn't have beeped asshole” she groaned She couldn't focus her vision and the warm liquid going Into her eyes didn't help . 

“ here let me” he Walked and instantly  She felt some thing was off moving away from the man her hands filled with flames shooting them into the sky About almost as a flare Hoping Someone would see it .

 “ I ain't gonna hurt you I just do the delivery “ she could hear the cockiness in his voice. 

“ get away from me it's a warning”. 

“ how The head?” He asked. 

“ perfect “ she smiled wiping the blood off Her eye. Her Hand ready as he walked The flames got stronger ready to toast the creep .

“ You are gonna pass out either way Just get in the car” .  She didn't Like he was right she could feel the exhaustion Take over.  

“ she not alone creeper” a voice Called. 

“ tony?” She whisper.

 “ hello my little pyro baby” he called as he blasted the car as a jet  Parked behind her. “ oh buddy you wanna hope my horse Is ok” She laughed . 

“ put the gun down dipshit” she could hear Tony's eyes rolling as she stood behind Him . 

“ Who's in the jet” she asked . 

“ that's not us  , the guys are coming you think you can help hold Them off Til then” she asked. 

“ I think I can burn bitches , ask questions later” she nodded seeing them slowly approaching her . 

 “ lets show them why is a bad idea to mess with us then kiddo”  he shot the a blast as the agents began running towards them . she started throwing blast of her  own hitting them ignoring the scream from the men as she felt the flame push higher  trying to keep herself from falling or letting tony to deal with it alone only for her whole body to go on flames like a surge of power burned through her as she took on a new lease on life suddenly she didn’t feel pain nor tired she felt something else though like she thought of everything else and shift of her mind and the flames where gone completely . 

“ holy shit” she gasped as tony turned to see her looking down as the vines came from her palms wrapping around the agents .

 “ did you know you could do that?” he asked. 

“ really does it look like i knew ?” she asked looking at her hands in disbelief. 

“ freak out later” he huffed knocking the delivery man unconscious .  

“ i don’t feel so good” she said softly before hitting the ground only for tony to see the dart sticking in her neck . 

“ shit shit” . 

“ stay back here also thanks for the lift”  nat called as they ran over tony . 

“  where can i help” jessie asked.

“ knock em out” nat threw her batons over . 

“  she ok?” steve asked. 

“ dart to the neck , vines and shit  , i’ll  explain later” tony called nodding to more agents coming out of the jet.   

“ ready soldier and knock out don’t kill” nat called . “

 i  know what to do natalia” bucky called. 

“ i meant the other soldier forget it go” she charged towards each of them taking them down easily and thankfully to his training and past years in combat spots jessie was able to hold his own while bucky stayed near y/n not daring to let anyone close to her til he was able to get her to the car safely wondering how it went so good to so bad almost in a blink of an eye.   Least it wasn’t what nat thought well not fully what she thought and it was better she heard it herself once she woke up . agents down as they used whatever was to hand to detain them knowing fury had shield already on the way  the moment before tony could even land . 

“ who was that and why did they sedate my little sister” jessie panted handing nat back her batons  as he pulled took the dart up only for tony to take it . 

“ hydra and they want her back “ tony  flew off heading in the direction of the ranch. 

“ lets get her off the ground” only for bucky to life her up  seeing a flower in her hand almost clutching it . 

 “I’ll get star” was all jessie said heading off as they drove off knowing he would follow off . as they drove the shield vans drove straight passed almost too fast while she was completely out cold as bucky guarded her barely even letting nat check her over . they pulled into the drive seeing her family the other clearing out after nat told them colorfully what she would do if they didn’t . her cousin sitting completely lost knowing it was for the best but it didn’t hurt less knowing her own parents and sibling were borderline shallow ego filled monsters . 

“ what happened is she ok ?” jack asked almost lost himself in a spilt moment the family shifted and change not with y/n though didn’t matter  she was their sister. 

“ she out cold but she be ok well sort of” nat smiled weakly . 

“ you’re friends in the jet … where is jessie” izzy asked unsure of what to even do . 

“ coming he’s getting star, jack you wanna get the door we need to get her to bed” bucky asked . 

“ course erm cassie come on we can show you to the guest room” he called as the girl nodded heading into the house.  “ she ok she just needs rest” he explained as his parents rushed to her side.  

“ erm i don’t have clothes or anything?” cassie sniffled . 

“ me and maya will get your things” izzy smiled softly. 

“ i’ll get your things” jessie stormed in not once looking at his parents only checking y/n then storming out. 

“ jack “ izzy nodded as he followed. “ he’s alway been protective of y/n probably cause knew deep down she was like him “ izzy explained. 

“ like him how?” bucky asked confused . 

“ well he must of known deep down she was adopted like him , which i don’t understand this we knew he was , why is y/n different we wouldn’t have treated her different” . 

“ adopted or like y/n adopted “ bucky looked at her dad. 

“ what’s the difference?” 

“ he knows why , answer me “ bucky asked . 

“ y/n adopted “ her dad sighed as bucky almost growled carrying her out of the door to the jet not  stopping . 

“ y/n not the first “ was all he said as they looked at him wondering if the revelation would ever end .

Part 6

taglist : @vicmc624 @babble28 @scott-loki-barnes @ozwriterchick

[gojolvs]

I still want you.

Chapter 2

⤿ Satoru Gojo u × reader

Falling in love with the Satoru Gojou wasnt an easy task.You truly love him but will this come to an end?

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message.

previous chapter ⤏ next chapter

While unloading suitcases and gathering Sumire's toys, your loving and great husband had driven you and your son to a small resort where you planned to spend time together. But in reality, you were forced to come with the man who gave you mixed feelings every day because of his actions. He invited you to his business trip, hoping to settle yesterday's big fight. The truth is that you really didn't want to be here. For what reason? To be completely ignored by your supposedly "amazing husband".

After letting out a small sigh, you recomposed yourself so Satoru wouldn't think anything was wrong. Satoru's presence made you feel disgusted after discovering something that you didn't want to know. "Would you mind carrying Sumire to the room?" Your voice was monotonous as you stared into his eyes with no expression on your face. After raising one eyebrow, he sighed and tried to convince you that this was the right thing to do for you both. Though you hated the idea of being rude to Satoru, you couldn't help yourself. You felt mentally exhausted from experiencing so many emotions at once. With a small sigh, he nodded. The only thing you wanted right now was a cold shower by yourself. Ever since the fight Satoru had become more soft. He began coming home more early and giving you numerous kisses along the day. You suspected that he had felt guilty of the fight.

"Hello Good morning, reservation for the penthouse suite under the name Satoru Gojou." Satoru began holding your hand and interlocking fingers, slowly rubbing your thumb with his thumb as well. You decided to quickly retreat your hand. Observing your surrounding you were truly impressed. The hotel, A fancy hotel had luxurious amenities and services. It had opulent decor, with plush furniture and marble floors.

The walls were adorned with exquisite artwork and the floors were covered with luxurious carpets. The lighting is subdued and created a peaceful and calming atmosphere. You felt safe in this hotel for some reason.

"Ah yes, sorry for the wait Mr and Mrs Gojou, you're room will be on the top floor to the left of the elevator exit, if you'd like to see what else the hotel offers here's a bar code you can scan. Enjoy your stay!" Giving both you and Satoru a smile she continued attending the rest of the hotel guest.

"Your boss really went out, huh?" You said as you fixed Sumire's hair, admiring the beauty of your son. He's really a beauty, a perfect combination of you and Satoru. Your precious child. Your mother, who disapproved of your marriage and pregnancy, still loves Sumire. He represents a true miracle because when you and Satoru had sex, you forgot to take your plan B. You were scared at the time because you were always very careful with Satoru, especially when you have Intercourse. This was difficult because you had just graduated from highschool and had no idea where your future would lead. "Did you forget I was promoted? Im the boss now." he said while pushing the elevator buttons.

Right you totally forgot about that because you were too busy dealing with Sumire's cold at the time. "Right, I knew that." you said as you both exited the elevator. Following the directions of the hotels receptionist. "Listen tomorrow i have the day off if you want to go out just me and you." Satoru said while opening the hotel room door. "Wow.” was the only thing that came out of your mouth after seeing the luxury hotel room.

"Im going to go put Sumire down in the other room and take a shower." Satoru said before he opened another room that led straight to the kids room. You could say that Satoru was rich but you didn't realize he was this rich. After searching up to see how much a single night would cost on a room like this you were surprised to see that it had cost 10k for one single night.

You were praying that this trip would help you and satoru's marriage but in reality you only had one purpose here. Despite all the fighting and bad things that has happened to you and Satoru you just couldn't bring yourself to truly hate him. At some point when you were at the lowest point of your life he was there. He would be the one you would call or text whenever something made you upset or sad. He was your soulmate, or so you thought. Satoru is the type of man who would do anything for you. If he truly loves you at least.

You hated yourself for not noticing earlier. Despite everything you still deeply love Satoru because he was there ttwhen your parents had gotten a divorce and you found out that your dad had cheated on your mom. It was devastating because you and your father had a close relationship with eachother. When you found out Satoru immediately snuck out to see you at the middle of the night. You both spent the night watching the stars together at the park. Deep down you still miss that day, the day when you both were still kids and madly in love.  It hurt so bad knowing that the same Satoru gojo from that day is gone. You let out a small sigh before unpacking your things.

You stopped when you slowly pulled out a beautiful dress. The dress was a stunning silky blue color, with a sweetheart neckline and delicate spaghetti straps. It was made of the finest silk fabric, with intricate embroidery along the bodice and a long, sweeping skirt. The dress was an elegant and luxurious piece, perfect for a special occasion.

As soon as u let out a small gasp Satoru came out of the room with a tower wrapped around his waist. You could see his tone muscles and his messy wet white hair. "Oh you weren't meant to see that." grabbing an extra towel he started drying his hair. You couldn't help yourself and you started trailing your eyes all over him. Checking him out because who's stopping you? Hes your husband after all. His muscles looked good as you watched droplets of water going down his v line. His small waist and tone and made you bite ur lip.

"Like what you see?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You couldn't remember when you last had sex. There had been a lot of fighting and arguments that got in the way of anything intimate. Hiding your face  you had a small tint of pink on ur cheeks from all the dirty thoughts that were going through your mind. "Im gonna go take a shower." Taking off your shirt you began to undress yourself. Who cared if Satoru was right in front of you after all hes seen you plenty of times naked before. Satoru just stared at you, watching you do everything without blinking.

"What are you doing." He asked his eyes trailing all over your body. It felt weird seeing your husband like this. Him checking you out to be exact. "Im going to go take a shower" you responded taking off your bra by yourself. You looked at him with confusion why was he so weird all of a sudden. Thinking nothing of it you quickly made your way to the restroom. It was a huge restroom. The shower had a glass sliding door and a big shower head. Right next to it was a bathtub which was also big. It smelt like flowers and a bunch of fabreeze but you didn't complain. With a sigh you began turning the shower on waiting for the shower to get in a certain temperature. After this shower you were going to go check up on Sumire.

The bathroom door opened just as you got in the shower. In spite of your confusion, you paid no attention to it, thinking Satoru would most likely be brushing his teeth or doing his daily skincare. Suddenly, you realized he was naked. You heard the bathroom door open. As you were about to ask him what he was doing, he began kissing your neck. He was evidently here for just one reason. He began fondling with one breast, while moving his left hand down towards your cunt. "Mm Satoru, wait." Pushing him off you, he respected your wishes. His eyes had a fire in them. Confusion again flooded your face. Never before had he been this committed to having sex with you. “Im gonna fuck you dumb”

In response to his finger sliding into your wet cunt, you shut your eyes and covered your mouth desperately trying to avoid making any noises.

"What about Sumire?" You murmured, letting out a small moan as he fingered you. You could feel every inch of your body starting to tremble. You truly did miss this feeling, the feeling of Satoru making you tremble everytime he touched you. "He won't hear us." He said with a small smirk before whispering, "So you can be as loud as you want baby." He began picking up the pace with his fingers.

Watching you moan made him so delirious. Your eyes would close every time his thumb touched your clit. He did miss the way you would stop yourself from moaning because that just proved that he was a good fucker. He himself got a boner just watching you undress yourself. In his eyes you were a goddess. “Fuck your so wet.” with a groan he continued to finger your pussy.

"Satoru..." You say his name, looking up at him. You felt him get close to your g-spot which made you moan even louder. He quickly moved you to the wall. You arched your back, feeling the cold wall against your back. "Satoru!" he was quick to kiss you. Satoru leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. His kiss was rough yet intimate, sending a warmth through your body that you forgot how it had felt before. You felt your heart racing and your breath quicken as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue explored your mouth, tasting and teasing you as he fingered you with two fingers now. He began pressing you closer to him. The kiss was wild and intense, leaving you wanting more. "Satoru, fuck” you pleaded between moans. Satoru curves his fingers so they hit just right, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. "Hmm- It's so fucking good, Toru.” You moan, holding your breath while his fingers work their magic. You shut your eyes and try to take it all in. "Satoru..." You say his name, looking up at him.

He quickly took out his finger before you could even come close to cumming. He smiled and picked you up. Slamming you straight onto the wall, kissing you even more intensely now. Satoru leaned in close, his lips brushing against mine. His tongue lightly parted your lips, and you felt it thrusting against your own. The sensation was electric, and you started to feel your body tingle with excitement as his hands roamed your body. “Mm you like when I do that don’t you” in between moans he popped one breast into his mouth. Circling your nipple with his tongue which made you grab his hair, pulling it while moaning his name. He continued to suck on your nipple until he stopped letting a small pop noise come out of his mouth.

He kissed you rough, you both pulled away, your lips still tingling from the rough kiss. “Im gonna fuck your pretty cunt” he said kissing your neck as he aligned his dick into your entrance. You could see that his dick was hard now. His cock was pulsating and you could see the desperation in his face. His cheeks were slightly laced with pink, his eyes were glistening with lust. Satoru’s hair was messy and wet which made you hornier by the second. You forgot how attractive this man could be.

“Lets give Sumire a sibling, yeah?” He coo’ed. Feeling his tip enter you, you began to scratch his back.

Suddenly you and Satoru exchanged stares. "Mommy?" You fell silent. "Say something!" You desperately whispered to him. "He'll know I'm in here." he said, smiling. He didn't care. You gasped loudly when Satoru began fucking you with a fast pace.

"Yes Sumire?" You replied trying to not moan as your husband fucked you fast, kissing your neck. It felt like you were losing this battle. The battle of trying not to moan.

“Im hungry mommy” Sumire quickly said trying to open the door but thank god Gojo had locked it.

“O-okay honey, just let mommy and daddy finish showering!” You said letting out a tiny moan before slapping your mouth.

“Sumire go wait in your room and change your shirt.” Gojo said while staring at you, he had a small smirk plastered on his face. What an asshole you thought.

"Sumire?" You called for your child as you finished getting ready. Gojo had convinced you to go to a birthday celebration down at the bar. All you had on was a tight black dress with Steve Madden heels and your Prada bag. "Me and mommy are going somewhere I need you to stay here and if you need anything call the receptionist okay?" Kissing his forehead Satoru grabbed his casual glasses and put them on. Sumire just gave a small nod before running back to his room.

Putting on his black glasses he opened the door allowing you to go out first. While entering the elevator you could smell his sauvage cologne and the smell of mouth wash. You prayed that there would be at least one person you could recognize at the bar. Knowing Satoru he would most likely be going with his friends and leaving you alone the whole night. Satoru kept on checking his phone almost like he was waiting for a text message or something which made you suspicious. Why would he wait for a message now? Walking out the elevator you quickly saw the entrance of the bar and the big sign that read

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUGURU ♡"

You let out a small sigh before entering the bar. Stepping into the bar, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. You scanned the room, taking in the smell of beer and cigarettes, and the chatter of people talking over the music. As you looked around, you could already see some people you recognized.

“Satoru!” You both snapped your head towards the person yelling his name. You could see that the tall, slim man with long black hair partially tied up behind his head was walking towards your direction. They both embraced eachother, “Holy shit no way.” Suguru said while staring at you with a huge smile plastered on his face. “You guys are still together!” Hugging you he was so happy to see you after a long time.

“How you been?” You asked with a small smile. Suguru was a pretty close friend of Gojo and you. an old highschool friend to be exact. “I've been good, I'm sorry for taking him away from you, but I want to introduce him to my friends in business." he said, hugging Satoru by the shoulder and dragging him out. Gojo’s eyes were sad.. You just gave him a small smile, sighing you walked towards the bar where at least 10 people sat each and everyone engaging in their own conversation. “Can i get a sapphire martini please.” The bartender just gave a small nod, making your drink.

Suddenly you felt someone staring at you. "Is this seat taken?" The tall, muscular man with mid-length straight black hair asked. You somehow recognized him. His green eyes and a small scar on his lips caught your attention, and he laughed. "Toji?" you asked, hoping that it was him and not some random guy who was hitting on you.

"Who else could it be?" he asked smiling. From what you remember, Toji is an old friend of yours or rather an old fling. At the time, Gojo and you broke up, and you hooked up with Toji at a stupid party. After that you found out he had a girlfriend at the time and just stopped talking to him but you remained good friends.

“It’s been so long how are you and your wife?” Smiling at him you took a small sip of your drink. The intoxicating smell of Tom Ford cologne. His smile slightly dropped when you asked that question, rubbing his neck, he sighed. “Unfortunately she passed away when she gave birth to our son.” Your heart immediately broke when you heard him. Loosing your wife in childbirth must be hard. “My condolences, I'm sorry." You said taking another sip from your martini, trying to resolve this awkward situation. "It's okay, it was long ago. I wonder how you're doing now with the husband?" After grabbing his whiskey he patiently waited for your response. To be honest you didn’t even have an answer for that. How we’ve been? You don’t even know. “If you want me to be honest I don’t even know.” Your smile dropped as you took out a cigarette, you snuck it in without Gojo finding out. You really did need to quit smoking, despite what everyone says you just can’t.

“Y’know smoking isn’t good for a young lady like you.” Toji added while taking out a lighter from his pocket smiling as you rolled your eyes at that comment. “You get cockier everytime i see you” you said as you inhaled. Toji just chuckled when you said that, taking another sip of his whiskey.

“Yeah, and you get prettier everytime i see you as well.” You jokingly took out your tongue and made a gagging noise.

After a long while of talking with Toji it started getting late. You could almost hear your loud giggles and laughs because of how much toji made you laugh. “At this point become a comedian Toji, i can’t stop laughing” you said as you giggled. Almost everyone had left the bar, a few hours felt like minutes with Toji. He really did make your day better. “If I become a famous comedian I’ll make sure to credit you for the suggestion” he said with a small smile.

“Y/n.”As you turned around, you were faced with an angry and confused husband. You smiled at him and immediately hugged him. "Toji meet my hubby" smiling, you compelled him to get up and introduce himself, grabbing his hand and forcing him to stand up. “I know who he is, let’s go.”Suddenly, Satoru's voice was filled with anger and demands. Gojo was even more upset you were holding Toji’s hand. You smiled at Gojo before kissing him on the cheek and grabbing your purse. "Okay, but just make sure you keep in touch with me,” you said with a smile, Giving him a small hug before running off to say goodbye to everyone else.

"You stay away from my wife." Satoru's voice was clear, he stared Toji down till he finally chuckled. Toji found that offensive, knowing what Gojo did, he had no business saying that. Approaching Gojo, Toji patted his back and began whispering to him. “You hurt her and I will kill you. Listen Satoru I know what you’re doing and sooner or later she’ll find out.” Letting him go he quickly fixed his tie before saying goodbye to Satoru.

Gojo’s eyes were wide, he went to find you and take you back to the hotel room before more people saw you drunk.

[pruneunfair]

I was re-reading some remarried empress chapters and it made me realize that Rashtas only trust worthy "friend" so far is a maid names Nikki who steals Evalies necklace for her and in general is pretty loyal to Rashta (so far)

And it got me thinking "what if Rashta had a group of women that would be by her side and make her feel loved" but since none of the nobleladies outside of Viscountess Verdi (who at this point is an unwilling ally) would actually like Rashta beyond basic manners, the friends Rashta would have could be the maid equivalent of Naviers ladies in waiting. Gossipy, sharp tongued, but with a difference of doing what it takes to survive. They would all have varying backgrounds but all would have grown up in some level of poverty, some maybe went days without food, maybe one was even a former slave and felt that Rashta being the hope for commoners was the best thing to happen in the eastern empire. At first Rashta would hire them both for brownie points and because she could relate to their struggles. They weren't noble enough to be official ladies in waiting but their support would be real and not fear.

However the maids I'm thinking of wouldn't dislike Navier just because Rashta said she was bad, they wouldn't hate Navier but they'd probably not care about her problems caused by Rashta since to them, Navier really didn't do much to improve or worsen their lives when they were still in poverty. This was inspired by the fact that the only people that rave about how amazing Navier is are other nobles and Evalie, the token common girl who's actually the long lost daughter of nobles. It could be a sweet moment for Rashta where she realizes that these maids actually care about her, and while they probably can't convince her of anything too powerful like Duke Ergi being a scumbag who's only using her, they could help steer her back into her humanity where she tries to be a better empress.

This doesn't mean that Rashta would have undying lackeies though, even if Rashta lived a life like they did, they wouldn't justify all her cruel deeds, I thought of some conflict that would occur once of them discovers what Rashta did to Delice and it becomes a whole "how do we you know you won't do this to us if we say something you don't like?" And even if Rashta explained her reasons and gave reassurance that Delice only lost her tongue so her safety could be guaranteed, most of the other maids wouldn't buy this and since Rashta has the journalist guy already causing problems for her, she would play it smart and promise it was a horrible mistake she would never repeat. They'd all stay but only because they are afraid of that they could end up like Delice and switch back into survival mode where they overflatter and exist to serve Rashta to save them from a fate worse then death.

This causes huge levels of pain for Rashta because now her own friends only fear her now that they know what kind of levels she would go to, spiraling her further into depression.

[hannahbarberra162]

She must be the person who most cheers for the death of Whitebeard, a man she doesn't even know, because this is one of the few scenarios that she can maybe be free again and return home.

If she spends 6 hours donating blood and has 8 hours of sleep (considering that she has a regulated sleep), what does she do in the remaining 10 hours? Can she leave the room? Does she sleep in the dorm with the others? Can she walk freely?

Does Whitebeard know of her existence (and that she is in Moby Dick against her will)? Does the whole crew know, or just the commanders?

Does Marco feel the slightest bit guilty? Knowing he's holding someone in the boat against her will? Would he really be able to keep up his threats?

Sorry for the questionnaire, I'm just curious :'D I have so many thoughts about the last one-shot

Hi Luarsunny!! I know this isn't your cup of tea haha. I'm writing a short one shot in your honor that's light and fluffy featuring a normal Marco. To answer some questions:

Marco would absolutely keep up his threats. He’d probably just start by breaking your ankle again, but he'd be willing to do whatever he needs to ensure Pops’s health. You are nothing to him compared to his father / Captain. 

I’d imagine some of the crew knows, but there’s so many people on board and you’re not very noticeable. It’s not a secret but you’re not that important to most people’s daily lives. 

“You’re done for today yoi,” Marco said, pulling the IV out of your arm. You’d been healed by him already, as you always were. Even though he replenished your blood, it always took a lot out of you to give platelets for six hours a day. You felt weak and lethargic, even though Marco had confirmed there was no biological reason for it. You were free to go where you wanted for the next few hours until you were confined to your room for bedtime. Marco locked you in a private room near his own for ten hours at a time, wanting you to get undisturbed sleep and rest away from the rest of the crew. He was neurotic, counting how many hours you slept and if you got up in the night. You were sure he was watching you, but you hadn’t figured out how yet. 

Lately you’d taken to spending time on the top deck when you were free, enjoying the weather outside. Before sailing with the Whitebeard Pirates, you’d never seen snow before. You were from a summer island and enjoyed watching the changes in the weather as the ship sailed through the Grand Line. Marco had banned you from going up to the crow’s nests, where you had originally loved spending time watching the skies. You’d almost fallen once on your climb up and Marco had since forbidden it. So you sat near the figurehead of the whale, thinking about nothing. Or, trying not to. 

Some pirates talked to you, trying to get you to socialize. You’d made a couple of friends, if kidnapping enablers could be considered friends. You were closest to Masked Deuce, who worked in the medical division under Marco. He was around a lot, checking in on you during your long days. You’d discovered he was a writer and loved the same kinds of literature you did, and he would read books to you while you sat immobilized. With Deuce came Ace, another Commander. You didn’t like Ace as much, he didn’t seem to understand the bind you were in. According to him, you should be overjoyed to be providing your platelets to someone as amazing as Whitebeard. But he was kind and charming and would tell you funny stories sometimes, so you let him hang out with you when you had time.

You resented Whitebeard and his crew immensely. You’d met Whitebeard himself once, when Marco had brought you up to meet him at the Captain’s insistence. 

“Thank you child,” the old man said simply, nodding his head in thanks. You had fantasized about this moment many times, imagining how you’d spew your vitriol at the Captain, telling him you hated his ship, his crew, Marco, and most of all, him. But in the face of the World’s Strongest Man, you were unable to do anything except cower, clinging to Marco as if he were your lifeline. “I owe you my good health, which is more precious than any treasure.” You stared at the man four times your size, your words dying in your throat. Marco nudged you.

“You’re welcome.” You didn’t have anything else to say - what could you say? Please let me go home to the detriment of your own health? Your son kidnapped me and I’m here against my will? Marco knew how you felt, he knew you were homesick and cried often at night. If he wanted to let Whitebeard know, he would. Part of you wished Whitebeard would die already, then you might get to go home. But you also thought they might abandon you on some island if you were no longer useful. You would have no money and no way to get home - a perfect set up to be captured by slavers. So for the time being, you were stuck on this godforsaken ship, used as a living blood supply to an Emperor.

Marco had started leaving things in your room without asking - better pillows, softer blankets, warmer clothes, pleasant smelling shampoo, books he thought you might like. You couldn’t be sure if he was trying to assuage his own guilt or if it just helped his goal of keeping you mentally healthy. The other crew tried to be kind in their own ways, offering to teach you how to fight (Marco didn’t allow it), the basics of sailing, how to cook, skills that might be helpful in the future. But it all felt like velvet wrapped around a steel fist. You could enjoy yourself, but ultimately you’d be in that room for six hours a day, no matter how much you cried and begged Marco for a day off.

[thepaperpanda]

The Christmas market || Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: As a result of many pleas from you, Ivar agrees to go to a Christmas market with you in order to find the perfect gifts for his family.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1609

Authors: Rouge & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: a visit to a Christmas market

Despite Ivar's whining and nagging, you dragged him through the crowd. 

Although he disliked crowds, especially at the christmas market, you both made it a goal to find something pretty for the party since his mother invited you over for dinner. "Y/N! We have been here for an hour already. We visited every stall, but nothing seemed good enough for you. Can we go home now?" Ivar grunted impatiently.

"Of course we can't yet," you said, squeezing his palm in your hand. "I told you I wouldn't go to your parents' house without a few gifts for them, didn't I? Is it so difficult for you to be as happy and excited about it as I am?"

He rolled his eyes, commenting, "Why waste money on gifts that will sit around, collecting dust? Why don't you bake cookies, pack them nicely, and give those as gifts to them?"

"Don't worry, I'll do that as well, my grandmother gave me an amazing old recipe for gingerbreads, I'll decorate them with two types of frosting," you said to Ivar after stopping at another stall. You discovered a lovely wooden box with floral ornaments there. "Hey, check it out. What do you think, love? Could it be a nice jewelry box for your mother?"

"I bet she didn't fill the one father gave her years ago," Ivar shrugged, looking at other stuff in the stall.

As you adjusted your woolen hat on your head, a deep sigh escaped your lips. "Helpful as always, aren't you, babe?" You chose a lovely wooden lighter for Ivar's father because you knew Ragnar was a smoker.

"It's really overpriced. Do you really expect me to be happy when we throw away money?" Ivar sighed, shaking his head.

"Ivar," you said, "it doesn't matter how much those things cost. What truly matters is the need in my heart to gift people the Christmas spirit and happiness, even if it's with small things."

"I don't think your wallet feels the Christmas spirit," Ivar commented. "Christmas is about family, not gifts, isn't it?"

Ivar was getting on your nerves again that day, so you only grunted. First, he objected to leaving your shared flat because it was snowing and he had a FIFA session to finish with his mates. Later, after he agreed to accompany you on your shopping trip, he mentioned being bored and hungry.

It wasn't that Ivar hated Christmas; instead, he didn't understand the point of spending all that money on trinkets that would only be used once.

"What do you suggest then?" You asked, resting your hands on your hips.

"I think a gift made by hand means more," Ivar told you. "But if you really need something for my mom, get her jewelry."

You were playing with the wooden box you held in your hands while thinking about Ivar's words. You returned the box to the seller with a nod, saying that all you wanted was the hand-carved lighter. "In this case, we'll need to go to another store, babe."

Ivar nodded his head after letting out a deep sigh. "If you promise me a hot chocolate, I am willing to go."

"We need to stop by Starbucks then," you tapped his nose, a sly grin spreading across your lips as you did.

"Okay, cool, but lead the way before I change my mind and head home," Ivar joked.

You reached for his palm and intertwined your fingers with his, delighted to discover that even though he was wearing his favorite black gloves, his hands were so warm.

A gentle kiss was placed on your fingers as he lifted your hand and brought it to his lips. "Your hand is so cold that my tongue would get stuck if I licked it," Ivar stated out of the blue.

You blinked as you listened to his words and grimaced to show him how embarrassed you were by his statement. "You're impossible, Ivar."

"C'mon, I know you love it when I tease you like this," Ivar teased, kissing your cheek.

You went straight to Starbucks, as you promised, and ordered hot chocolate for Ivar and a spicy pumpkin latte for yourself.

As long as Ivar had his favorite drink in hand, he was more likely to follow you without whining.

You asked him to accompany you to a jewelry store, where you chose a pair of silver earrings with a reindeer theme.

In this case, Ivar was much more eager to assist you in picking up a gift for Aslaug. It was picking gifts for his brothers that worried him most; according to him, none of them deserved anything.

"So, do you have any ideas for gifts for your brothers?" You inquired as the two of you strolled down the Strøget.

"Hard to say. None of them deserve gifts," Ivar muttered while looking around. “How about socks?”

"Socks? Are you serious, sweetheart? This is the most ridiculous gift idea," you lightly tapped his shoulder.

"Oh don't be silly, love. It's a perfect gift for those assholes," Ivar said, rolling his eyes. "Let me see! Hvitserk can get weed or brownies... Or both, actually. He has a sweet tooth, as we all know. Ubbe can get a pen. Sigurd might benefit from a lame book about music history. Bjørn? We can get him a year's supply of condoms."

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a laugh and stopped walking, considering everything he said. "Ivar! You're so cruel! It's a good idea to get Ubbe a nice pen. A book about music for Sigurd is not a bad idea either. I'm only concerned about condoms for Bjørn and weed for Hvitserk. Oh, and I still need to find the perfect gift for my baby boy," you enhanced his hat to cover his ears.

Ivar smiled and moved closer before whispering into your ear, "You will shed those clothes, wrap yourself in a nice lacy set, and it will be the best gift I have ever received."

You closed your eyes and smirked, feeling your cheeks flushed. "Ivar, babe, if you behave like a good boy you are deep inside," you poked the left side of his chest, "I'll think about that," you kissed his lips briefly after climbing on your tiptoes.

"I deserve such a gift," Ivar chuckled, booping your nose. "I've been a good boy this year." A slight frown appeared on his face before he improved your thick scarf. "We should get this done as soon as possible. You are cold and I don't want you to get sick again."

"Come on, I'm not the one to get a cold after a cold like you," you pretended to be offended by his words.

"Keep thinking like that, little one, live your sweet, little dream," he patted your head. "Now. Let's go home, I'll take care of those gifts. Bjørn is still getting condoms though."

You helplessly rolled your eyes and shook your head after hearing his comment. "Ivar?" You looked up at him and intertwined your fingers with his.

Squeezing your hand while hiding it in his pocket, he only hummed, looking down at you.

"Can you visit one more place with me? I promise it'll be the last one."

He nodded but tapped his cheek, giving you a look.

After a brief eyeroll you climbed on your tiptoes again and kissed his cheek, inhaling the cologne he used which you gifted him with on his birthday.

A giggle escaped his lips and he nodded. "Let's go now. Lead the way."

You led Ivar to one more stall while holding his hand.

After following you, Ivar inspected the stall. "What is the purpose of our visit here?"

"You like wolves, right?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied simply.

"I saw them last week, when I came here to check out the Christmas market for the first time," you told him, taking a wooden bracelet in your hand. It had a charm shaped in a wolf howling to the moon, and the moon was cut in a half. "I thought we could get ourselves matching bracelets..."

A quick kiss was exchanged between Ivar and you as he grabbed your chin. "I think I have a really clever and cute girlfriend. I really like this idea."

He kissed you quickly, but it was sweet enough to melt your heart. You discovered the tiny metal clasp and opened it, asking Ivar to extend his hand to you. You put the bracelet on his wrist and locked the clasp as soon as he did. "There. Oh, it's perfect for you!"

He placed another bracelet around your wrist before moving your hand to his lips to kiss its top. "Let's do it this way: I can pay for yours and you can pay for mine, so we have perfect gifts for each other."

You nodded eagerly enough for your hat to fall off your head. "Oh, hell, silly me," you laughed.

A soft chuckle escaped Ivar's lips as he improved your hat and kissed your nose. "You may think you're too silly, but I love that about you."

You paid for his bracelet, and as he did the same, you snatched him under your arm and rolled down the Christmas market with him, inhaling the scent of gingerbreads spreading all over the place, hot tea with honey and ginger, and spicy coffee in various types. You glanced at Ivar's face briefly as the two of you walked together, trying not to draw his attention to this fact. Your heart overflowed with affection for this young man, who was perfect on the inside and out. You'd never been happier in your life.

[robininthelabyrinth]

prompt 1: I'd love to see a niecest fic (where it is truly mutually requited, no hypnosis mindbreaks required; I'm a terribly softhearted romantic & just want to see them happy~) that incorporates your characterizations of the saber spirits somehow? Like, Baxia and Aituan, idk, end up like... bonded somehow by their masters getting together and that... maybe helps balance the qi deviations or IDK I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY *cough* ok. yes. something. prompt 2: ohhhh I know. Jiang Cheng gets some sort of temporary story-convenient amnesia and assumes that (probably still a small child)!Jin Ling is his son, Jin Ling maybe... doesn't correct him for a bit? ("Wait whose kid is this. Did I give birth to a kid somehow. I mean I guess that might as well have happened, sure.") prompt 3: turns out Wen Qing was also being kept secretly alive but imprisoned by the Jin sect all this time, and Jin Ling discovers her in the aftermath of canon. Chengqing y/y? ANYWAY please feel free to select any of these that may strike your fancy, do not feel obligated to pick more than one or any of them, actually. (also I'd appreciate not having my name published as the prompter of any of these, if you don't mind. I don't think you do that, as a general rule, but just in case you might have.) P.S. I adore your work; every day that you post something is a day considerably brightened for me. and also the other days, because I do a lot of rereading. <3 <3 <3

prompt 1: I'd love to see a niecest fic (where it is truly mutually requited, no hypnosis mindbreaks required; I'm a terribly softhearted romantic & just want to see them happy~) that incorporates your characterizations of the saber spirits somehow? Like, Baxia and Aituan, idk, end up like… bonded somehow by their masters getting together and that… maybe helps balance the qi deviations or IDK I WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY cough

ao3

So. We're doing something about this, right?

Baxia stirred. Slowly, like a great big old rumbling beast that was actually quite fast when it wanted to be, which knew that there was nothing in the world that could hurt it and anything foolish enough to do so was destined to a terrible fate of being played with and then demolished. Cruelly. Viciously.

Without remorse.

Yes, she said with admirable patience. We will do something about...'this'.

Oh good, Aituan said, amazed, surprised, and relieved that he'd survived this far into the conversation. Baxia was scary, all right? There were masterless sabers less scary than her. Daughter of the dragon, one of the best-forged blades in the sect, and she'd been used to her full potential, too - basically the opposite of Aituan in every way shape or form, really. It's just, you know, my human's been leaking again and I hate it when that happens.

Nie Huaisang might have some faults as a human, Aituan would allow (mostly because Nie Huaisang would similarly allow, and even seemed a bit proud of), but he was an excellent master. Sure, he might not cultivate Aituan all that much - it was kind of amazing Aituan had a personality at all rather than being a lifeless hunk of metal - but that was fine! Aituan, infected by his master’s shaping, didn't especially want to be constantly cultivating anyway. They didn't need that, the two of them. They were chill.

I thought he'd stopped leaking in the bed once he'd reached the appropriately age..?

Not that type of leaking! Leaking from the face, I mean. Salt water.

Ah, Baxia said. Yes, my human does that, too. Quite a bit. I'd assumed it was a regular part of their function.

Aituan thought about what he knew about the senior Nie brother, who was a highly emotional sort of person - inclined towards wet eyes for a myriad of reasons, such as joy, sadness, rage, a bit of passing beauty, and even something Nie Huaisang very fondly called 'allergies'. He could see how Baxia might have reached that conclusion.

Well, my human doesn't do it very much at all, he said. Not for real, anyway. Only when he's unhappy.

Baxia didn't say anything.

This will make him less unhappy, Aituan added, because he might be a mute piece of metal, but silence was a little intimidating when the silence was Baxia's. That shit had weight, and heft, and maybe stabbing power. He thinks revealing the extent of his desires will lead your master to reject him.

Absurd.

I know! Your master is doting and meticulous with his affections. He would never turn his back on a beloved one.

Nie Mingjue had the stubbornness of a saber in that way, and Aituan meant that as a wholehearted compliment. 

True, Baxia said, sounding satisfied - like any saber, she approved of people speaking highly about her master. Not to mention that the underlying 'issue' seems rather...pointless.

I know! Aituan exclaimed. I mean, I have no idea why humans are so hung up on all that grinding and grunting stuff -

I believe it's associated with human reproduction. Maybe.

Only when you have compatible male-female pairs, but you don't see humans stopping with that, do you? Aituan sighed. His master was something of an expert on this subject. Males, females, multiples, solo...you know, I think they do it for fun. 

Baxia rumbled thoughtfully. Like training?

...I think they think it’s more fun than training, Aituan said, and tried to ignore Baxia's silent skepticism. Most humans, anyway; not necessarily yours. Humans are weird, okay?

The silence turned agreeable. That was something no saber would disagree with.

Anyway, put that aside. Let’s just take it as given that humans like grinding themselves against each other instead of against a proper whetstone, and that my master happens to very much want to grind against yours in particular. And yet he's tormenting himself and making himself unhappy and refusing to do anything about it because - you won't believe this - because they were forged by the same maker.

That’s the reason? Surely you jest.

I'm not, Aituan insisted. I asked my human about it specifically. That's the reason.

Baxia was displeased. That's ridiculous, she said. That's it? That's the cause of all this fuss?

Aituan was just happy someone finally understood his perspective about this whole fiasco. Nie Huaisang had a penchant for the dramatic, but he seemed quite earnestly distressed by this little non-dilemma, even after Aituan had assured him - having checked with Baxia - that his brother adored him unreasonably and would do anything he wished. He hadn't exactly appreciated Aituan's disbelief when he'd explained the issue, either - in the end, he'd just said that it was probably something sabers couldn't quite grasp. 

I thought it was something serious, Baxia complained. The way my master has been carrying on, you'd think he was doing something evil in even wanting to do it. But there's no evil here! We would know!

Naturally. They were Nie sect sabers, forged and cultivated to fight evil from the very start; no one knew evil better than they. 

And it's not as if my master's predecessor was any better. Look at the unusual ingredients he chose to use in forging his sons! Each one stranger than the next!

This was true. Nie Huaisang had once grown a tail in his sleep - Aituan had suppressed it on his behalf, naturally, and he was fairly certain that his master still regarded the entire event as a bad dream brought on by snacking excessively on that imported cheese from the south, but it had definitely happened. 

The old Sect Leader Nie had a lot to answer for, really. 

It would seem to solve a lot of problems for them to pair off together, Aituan agreed. They're a known quantity for each other, and it keeps either of them from bothering anyone else with their nonsense. They’d be able to pick forging ingredients for the next generation on the basis of logic rather than emotion. And they both want it! There's literally no problem here!

None at all that I can see, Baxia proclaimedwith a very reassuring tone of finality. We will fix this.

Yes!

And we will fix your cultivation as well.

Ye- wait, what?

My master’s cultivation has begun to exceed my own, Baxia explained. Humans don't have a consolidation period - they just keep growing even after they reach a breakthrough point. If he continues to grow at the current rate, he will exceed my reach within ten years.

That…wasn't good. It was in fact very bad.

The Nie sect practiced a complementary cultivation style, human and saber cultivating side by side along the path of the Great Dao. If the two ever fell seriously out of sync, they would increasingly risk qi deviation. Such a tragic end had been the fate of the Nie sect seniors whose sabers now rested in the saber tombs, and would likely consume their own masters eventually, absent some plan...

...which it sounded like Baxia had.

You are a weak cultivator, she said. Your master is, too. If we redirect my master's cultivation for the purpose of strengthening you and your master instead of increasing his own strength, it would add at least two dozen years to the timeline - and that will be enough for me to finish consolidating my own power and reach my own breakthrough, letting me match him once more. My master and I will then be able to cultivate side by side through the next period. 

Huh. That meant work for him, which Aituan didn't especially want, but much less work than if he were doing all the cultivating himself. And it'd be good for his master, not needing to worry about losing his brother at a young age...

All right, he said. Say, how long is the next period? Until you run into another consolidation period and we need to start worrying again?

Baxia considered the question. Not terribly long, she said. Perhaps 200 years? Perhaps 250?

That seemed reasonable enough, right? How long did humans live, anyway? 

Well, whatever. It was more than ten - his master ought to be thanking him (and Baxia!) for putting in so much effort on his behalf. 

That's fine, Aituan said. All right, we're in agreement. So...now what? 

[ironwoman18]

Rather Be - Part 9

Chapter 9: A night to remember

That week after mother's day, Loid made at less one thousand plans for his date with Yor but some of his ideas weren't satisfying enough for him.

He was really considering asking other females at work to know what they could suggest to him but of course he wouldn't ask Nightfall. She had been showing an unhealthy interest in replacing Yor and he was happy with her as his partner as the mother of the Forger family.

Besides, he noticed the butterflies he felt in his stomach everytime she kissed his cheek or when they held hands or when he kissed her cheek, in other words, every time they touched.

He never felt something like this in his life. He had been with many women before but none of them made him feel like this. 

He called Mrs. Norris, one of the elderly nurses.

“Doctor Forger, is everything okay?” she asked in a kind tone and warm smile.

“Well... Last Sunday, I gave my wife a beautiful dress and she made me promise to take her on a date so she can use it, but...” He said blushing.

“But you have no idea where to take her right?” He nodded and she laughed “one of the smartest doctors but when it comes to his wife you are a dummy” she said with a kind smile.

“I want to take her to a nice place, but I'm not sure where. Last time we watched a movie and had dinner but I don't want to repeat myself or over do things”

“I see...” She said then she checked in her pocket and handed it to him “there will be a special night at the botanic garden. They brought a collection of flowers that bloom at night” she sighed “If only my dear Argus was still alive I would take him too”

“This seems amazing and very interesting” he looked at her and dared to ask “What happened? If you don’t mind”

“He was a stubborn man and hated doctors so it was too late when they discovered he had cancer. He died last year. He was a brave man and he fought in that terrible war... I was one of the lucky women and also our son and daughter who had her husband and their father back”

Loid looked down sad “Yeah you definitely were lucky. I lost my mother and father because the military dropped bombs where I lived...” he said in a cold tone.

“War is terrible. Young people don’t understand how terrible and how much you can lose in war” she said looking down remembering what she heard that morning on the radio. There are still people wishing to fight in a war.

“Sad but true” he said looking at her, remembering also those college kids he faced who were trying to send bomb dogs to his first ministry.

“I’m sorry I killed the good mood. You were planning a date and I started to talk about sad things...”

“Don’t worry Mrs. Norris, I don’t mind. It’s a touchy subject but if we forget about it, our young people will forget about it and won’t let future generations actually smile and be happy... like my daughter”

She smiled and patted his shoulder “You are a good father and husband, a little distracted but a good one” he blushed softly “See you later Doctor” she left his office and Loid smiled watching her leaving then looked back to the paper she handed him. 

This was perfect and it said it will have a buffet after the exhibition is over. He smiled and looked at the door and there was Nightfall.

“What can I do for you Ms. Frost?” he asked, looking at her.

“I have the file of a new patient Doctor Forger” he walked to her and grabbed the file, it said he had a new mission on... no way... “I can’t take it... I’m sorry. I have something planned for Operation Strix”

“Like...?” she said it, even colder than usual.

“I have a date with Yor” he said matter of factly “Part of this mission is to keep my partner happy and so we look like an actual married couple”

Fiona Frost looked at him, not believing he was just doing this for the mission or to keep Yor Brier happy, in her heart she could notice how her dear Twilight was falling for that woman, and she knew it had been her if she was free when he found out he needed a wife.

“There are no other agents available for it” she lied, she was free but she wanted to focus him back on his role as a spy.

“I will have to talk to the Handler so she can look for another agent. They all know my operation is a top priority” he said.

She cursed under her breath “Fine... I will do it, but don’t get attached to those two. You aren’t like that...” she said, turning around with tears in her eyes but her voice remained calm then she left without another word.

“There’s nothing else I can do or say” she thought “he has feelings for her...”

After that Loid made sure to rent a car for them to take them to the botanic garden and back home. At six he went back home.

“I’m home” he said as Anya and Bond ran to him.

“Daddy!! Today I had a good answer to a math problem!” 

“Oh really?” he picked her up and hugged her “I guess the classes with Grandpa Sig are working” she nodded smiling.

 “Yes, they are. I think Anya is already understanding it” said Yor from the kitchen “just like I’m doing with the cooking classes” she said smiling.

“Yes, I agree” he smiled back, then he hung his coat and his hat, then went to help Yor with some of the seasoning or to peel a potato, a task she still seems to struggle with.

When dinner was done, the three of them sat down and ate while talking about their day. 

When they finished dinner and their dessert, Loid sent Anya to brush her teeth while he washed the dishes then he would read her a story.

The little girl did it while he was in the kitchen. After finishing, Loid went to her bedroom and read to his daughter one of her favorite stories, doing voices as she liked until the little girl fell asleep.

And when she did Loid went to the living were Yor was reading. He sat next to her.

“Story with voices?” She asked, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

“Yes, she knows I'm good at that since I changed my voice for a dwarf in one of the stories, now she wants me to do it with each character” Yor laughed “hey! Don't laugh, it's hard to do voices” she laughed more and he followed her laugh.

After a full minute laughing they were taking deep breaths trying to calm themselves “it's really sweet of you to make those voices for her and some are kind of cute”

“I never imagined myself doing it but I guess that's a great way to make a little kid happy, right?” the black haired woman nodded “and I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” He asked, blushing a little.

“I would love to,” she answered blushing.

When Saturday arrived Loid was lucky because Anya was invited to go to Becky’s house again so he and Yor won't be worried about the time or dealing with Franky’s annoyed face.

They took Anya to the Blackwell's car then both parents went to their apartment and had calm morning doing some cleaning then a little bit later each took a shower and went to get dressed and as promised Yor wore her new dress with her heels and she applied a little makeup then she walked out to find Loid wearing a black jacket and pants with a white shirt black tie.

He looked as handsome as ever, she realized he matched her dress with his own black suit. 

On the other hand, Loid was in awe watching her, she looked really beautiful in that dress. The women at the tailor's shop knew exactly how to make a dress that fixed her body like a glove.

She noticed his blue eyes were watching her from head to toe and she blushed harder.

“Are we done?” She asked.

“Yes, we are” he offered his arm to him “I think you will enjoy what I prepared for you”

He led her to the door and opened it for her then they walked downstairs and by the time they reached the street a car appeared in front of them.

Then a man opened the door for them “Sir, madam” he bowed softly then watched as Yor got in, then Loid got in the seat in front of her.

The driver got in and drove to the botanical garden putting some soft music on the radio as he drove.

Loid and Yor chatted as he explained his plans. They will have lunch at the plaza and at four they will go to the garden to each ten flowers they brought that only bloom at night.

Yor was excited because she loved the flowers and having a whole exhibition of them will be amazing.

Loid also told her how he got the idea. She felt sad when he mentioned the story about Mrs. Norris’ husband but at least she moved on and lives at peace now with the absence of her husband.

When they arrived the driver once again opened the door for them and promised he would be there at eleven. Anya will have a sleepover so they were relaxed about their daughter’s sleep time.

He led her to a nice restaurant close by and had a seat outside. They ordered and continued to talk.

Yor truly loved when they were all together but for some reason today she was more happy about having Loid all by herself because she wanted to understand this feeling she has when he touches her hand or when she catches him looking at her when he thinks she doesn't notice it and what is this feeling she has when she looked at him, something she never felt for other men.

They ate and enjoyed each other's company. It was fun and relaxing. Loid was looking at her from time to time trying to read her expressions but as it happens to Anya, he was unable to do it. They were the only people he had never been able to read. And in a way he liked it. He liked the challenges and this one was one.

After eating and paying they left for the botanical garden “have you ever heard of the flowers that bloom at night?” She asked.

“Yes I did but never watched one, so this will be my first time” he smiles at her “and you?”

“I heard of them but never watched them” he smiled after what she said.

“Then this will be our first time watching flowers at night” he said and she smiled nodding at him.

Loid paid for his ticket, this gave them full access to the exhibition and the buffet at the end of the tour. 

“Welcome everyone to the first day of our exhibition of night flowers. This collection of flowers are from all over the world and they are all beautiful and we are sure you will love them. Most of them bloom at night but some will bloom early like at twilight or at four or five” all the people nodded.

They gave them a brochure and at four, they stood in front of it and the guide said “Here we have the Four O'Clock Alba, true to its name, this flower starts unfolding its petals in the late afternoon and remains on display through the night. This airy, bushy perennial—which features large white blossoms against deep green foliage—also unleashes a light citrusy scent that fills the evening air”

“Wow... They are beautiful” said Yor watching how the flowers bloom before her eyes and their smell hit her nose “and the smell is just like the guide said''

“Most definitely, they are amazing,” added Loid, smiling.

The guide was next to an expert checking their watches and the flowers to call the people to check them out. And at six they called the people and the guide said “Next in our tour we have the Evening Primrose, which begins its show just as the sun starts to set and continues through the late evening. It's a perennial that blooms from spring through late summer and has an interesting appearance with rosette-like flowers that bloom atop a tall stem covered in soft hairs”

"They begin to open up before the twilight hours in the most delicate pink-and-white colors," added Hedwig Winston, their botanical expert "I love primrose for their ease of care. They are a very hardy plant and look wonderful in most gardens.”

They all stayed there watching in awe the beautiful flowers. Some new people were arriving watching each flower group and taking photos. Loid decided to bring his camera and take beautiful photos.

At night the rest of the flowers started to bloom so the guide led them to each one. 

“Here we have the Moonflower, which is the nighttime sister to the beautiful morning glory, only it comes alive under the evening stars” 

"These creamy white blooms open in the evening and only stay in bloom at night," said Gabe Sanders, an expert of the botanical garden, he continues saying "I'm partial to any morning glory because of their delicate shape and how they drape around a garden. They are just so stunning, and I think the uniqueness of this one only adds to their allure.” 

All the people took photos of the flowers. Loid was making sure Yor was in each photo he was taking of the flowers, he asked another couple to take a photo of them. He did it by the twilight flower, since they shared that moment of the day.

After some more photos, the guide took them to the next flower “now this is the Night Phlox is a captivating flowering plant that's native to South Africa” 

"Its blooms resemble small daisies and release a sweet and honey-like fragrance after the sun goes down," said Eric Garden, another expert, and owner of some of the flowers, then he added "The leaves form a dense, low-growing clump that looks lush and green." 

“If you want to have them in your own garden, this is an ideal choice for borders, rock gardens, and containers”

They continued the tour around the botanical garden watching flowers like the Gardenia or the Night Blooming Jasmine, they also watched the Mock Orange.

“This the Casa Blanca Lily, for a magnificent flower that blooms at night, look no further than the Casa Blanca lily. As its name suggests, this perennial produces large white blooms with red-brown anthers, dazzling passersby all summer long. These blossoms sit atop a tall, rigid, and leafy stem. Like other lilies, its flowers are toxic to pets, so make sure, if you want to have them at home, to keep them out of reach of your furry friends”

“It's so sad Bond couldn't have a nice look of them, I know he's smart but he wouldn't know this before flower could be lethal for him”

“Yes but I don't plan on having a garden in our small apartment,” he said, half joking and half serious. Yor laughed and nodded.

“I'm agree, as much as I love flowers, they belong to a beautiful place like this one or a big garden”

“Now there is the Queen of the Night Cactus, a flowering variety native to North America's Sonoran Desert. Their white or yellow blossoms are large and trumpet-shaped and sit in stark contrast to the tough, prickly cactus exterior” 

"Chances are, you've seen this cactus and had no idea its real beauty was best seen at night," said Garden, the expert. "For anyone in the Southwest, this is a great, low-maintenance choice to give variety to a garden or landscape."

And he was right, one of Twilight's missions took him to North America and he ended up in a desertic zone and he witnessed those cacti at night but it looked so boring and not as pretty as it looks right now.

“I will take some pictures and show them to Dawn, the agent who was with me, back then” he thought, smiling softly.

“The last flower in our tour is the Nocturnum Orchid. Those living in a wet, tropical climate can enjoy the beauty of the aptly named Nocturnum orchid. It produces long, dark green foliage and otherworldly white blossoms that take on a peculiar shape. What's also remarkable about this night-blooming flower is its intoxicating fragrance. It's been described as a fruity flower akin to strawberry or raspberry”

The nice smell of that flower hit Yor and Loid and they were fascinated by it. They took some more photos and smiled as a nice man accepted to take a picture of them “You should kiss” suggested the man “Because I believed you are married” they blushed softly but Yor, who was always to one with the less courage did something unexpected and kissed his cheek but way too close to his lips that tricked the angel to look like a real kiss on the lips. They blushed deeply and the guy, happy with his photo, left them.

“This has been a beautiful evening. Surrounded by  beautiful and breathtaking flowers” said Yor blushing a little and smiling big at her husband “thank you for this beautiful night”

He blushed softly “I'm so happy that you liked this. I was looking for the perfect evening for us” he smiled at her “and the last part of the date will a buffet at the end of the exhibition” 

“Oh! Sounds great” she laughed and he led her to the restaurant in the garden. It had a couple of people in there so they took a tail and they got what they wanted and went to a table.

They ate and talked about the tour and how interesting it was. Loid could tell she was into the theme of flowers, but somehow he doubted she could keep them alive, you could call it a gut feeling.

He picked dessert for them and the place started to get crowded so they were happy to be there earlier and be able to eat first.

“This place is beautiful and I would love to bring Anya, maybe not to see this particular exhibition because it's too late for her but other exhibitions could be nice for her, and maybe ask the Blackbell’s to let Becky comes too”

“That's a great idea” he smiled “I will ask them, I wrote their number down” Yor clapped excited and smiled big at him.

At eleven they left the building after buying something at the gift shop for Anya and Bond and some decoration for their house. They headed to the plaza and she held his hand as they walked, this action felt so right to both of them and they were comfortable by that action.

They arrived just in time and opened the door for his passengers and this time Yor talked to him really animated about everything they watched there. She sounded so happy that Loid thought about Mrs. Norris and how he would give her one of the gifts they brought at the store to thank her.

They got home and after getting out Loid and Yor walked in and went to their rooms with a big smile on their face and Loid was expecting the next day to reveal the photos they took that day.

OOooOOooOO

I hope you like this. I would like to add that I got the information about the flowers using the Martha Stewart website.

[kcwriter-blog]

Defeating the Big, Bad Wolf

The always amazing corseque has theorized that a boss fight with the mutant dragon/wolf Fen’ Harel is inevitable. The default world state on the Keep has the Inquisitor choosing to stop Solas. In other words, BioWare wants our new protagonist to kill Solas. That’s the plan. That’s what they’ve been leading up to. That’s what they think game players want. 

I’m not saying most players don’t want to “scramble the egg” as they put it. There is enough hated for Solas on the fan sites for that to be believable. At the end of the day though, BioWare is supposed to be about choices. We were given a big one at the end of Trespasser and it would suck if BioWare chose not to honor that. 

If all choices lead to us having to kill Solas, that isn’t a game I want to play. Not because I personally love Solas (I do) but because I consider it lazy writing to turn such a nuanced character into Thanos or Corypheus. He deserves better if that is what some of us want for him. 

I don’t think Weekes is a lazy or boring writer. However, if they were told by others on the team to make it so, that’s how it will go. 

How could BioWare give us the “redeemed” ending some of us asked for and still ensure the big boss fight they have been leading up to happens?

One theory is that this is all a distraction. There is a bigger boss out there that we will have to defeat. Maybe. Another option is the old trope “The villain decided he was wrong and died saving the world.” Boring, but also plausible. It’s also possible that Solas dies but is reborn in the Fade as a Wisdom spirit. He won’t remember anything about his past self, but he will at least be at peace.

I have another option. I don’t think we will see it, but I felt I had to throw it out there into the void. I just finished reading Asunder. In it, Wynn gathers a couple of mages and heads out to Adamant to save a Tranquil who has been researching how to reverse the Rite of Tranquility. When they arrive, they discover that the Tranquil managed to reverse the Rite but in doing so became possessed by a powerful demon. 

Wynn believes the situation is salvageable. She enacts a ritual that rips a huge hole in the Veil. She and the mages enter the Veil (not physically) with the goal of fighting the demon on its own turf. It takes the mages, Wynn and the spirit of Faith she carries with her to defeat it. Once they do and return to the waking world, the Tranquil is alive and no longer possessed. 

What would this mean for a good ending? Solas and the Dread Wolf seem to be separate creatures. In banter, Cole remarks that Solas is in two places at once, meaning the waking world and the Fade. Solas brushes it off by saying that he wanders the Fade a lot and that is probably what Cole is sensing. What if it isn’t? What if Solas is separated from his demon by the Veil?

If so, our protagonist can enter the Fade, do the boss fight most players have been salivating over and instead of killing Solas save him. Free of the Dread Wolf, Solas can become whatever he was before his spirit was twisted into a Pride demon. That might still result in him “dying” a la Wisdom in his personal quest, but maybe he will have enough sense of self left to “push through” and become mortal. 

I like this ending for several reasons. One, everyone gets what they want. Two, Solas has a chance to start undoing the damage he caused. A sacrificial act, while dramatic, does not really equal atonement. You can’t atone if you are dead. 

As I said, that is a very unlikely scenario. All foreshadowing points to Solas’ death at the end of DAD. It makes me sad because the ending could have been much more interesting.