#and i will then talk for an hour until i realise everyone has left the room

[bird-of-no-feathers]

I bring a kind of 'relentless elaboration' to the conversation that the people who heard me start a sentence with "ok so basically" don't want to be here for

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[freshxsturniolo]

4th july pt2! - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

pt1 here

“that chris by any chance?” your best friend tara says as she finally jumps into bed. you’re staying the night at jake, johnnies and carringtons place and you’re wrapped tightly under the duvet in their spare room. tara has been running around still with the three boys, but as soon as your phone altered you to that first text, you’d excused yourself.

you smirk as you look at her and she gives you an eyebrow raise.

“i didn’t know you were talking to him like THAT” she says now. “when i saw him spinning you around in the pool i thought nothing of it until i saw his hands on your ass.”

a laugh escapes you, your head sinking into your pillow as tara leans forward to hold your arm, laughing with you.

“i’m serious” she choked out. “i didn’t say a thing to anyone thinking i’d leave you both to it until you started practically fucking in the pool”

“tara!” you squeal. “we weren’t fucking in the pool!”

she laughs, that signature tara yummy laugh, and then rolls her eyes. “okay maybe i was being dramatic there but, jesus, he looks like a good kisser”

you chuckle slightly, “he is.”

“you could have invited him back here ya know, jake wouldn’t have mind. i could have slept somewhere else”

you’re listening but sending across your last text to chris, butterflies in your stomach at the flirting once again that now felt much deeper before shutting your phone off and placing it under your pillow, turning round to face tara.

“he wants to take me for dinner tomorrow”

tara eyes go wide. “oh fuck. wait. so this is more than just -“

she stops as she doesn’t know how to explain it, but you know exactly what she means. yes, for now, this is defiantly more than a one night stand. at least, you secretly hope. his words of being respectful could all be a plot. you might have dinner tomorrow and realise that actually, you’d be better off as friends. but for now, entertaining a thought of something more with chris sturniolo was making you giddy.

“yeah. i think so” you confirm.

tara slaps her head back onto the pillow and looks up at the ceiling.

“you did look cute together, im not gonna lie”

you smile as your mind goes back to the party just a few hours ago. you’re still drunk now, but after you’d got out the pool the drinking slowed down.

you had stayed in the pool for only a short while after, your hair and make up completely ruined yet you didn’t have a care. outfit completely soaked through. but the entire time you couldn’t deattach your lips. it’s like all that flirting and lack of alone time together had bought a force over you that neither of you knew how to stop. but when you realised you were the only two in the pool, you pulled him out. hand in hand.

your friends had noticed by that point, and a few typical claps and cheers erupted from them, which in your drunken state had only made you laugh. as tara had suggested, no one knew you and chris were actually talking as much as you were and you knew everyone around you thought it was just a drunken kiss. but as the night went on and you both changed, jake nice enough to let chris raid his wardrobe for some comfier and none wet clothes, you changing into your overnight clothes you’d already bought, you couldn’t stay away from each other once more.

the party continued on behind you, but you stayed firmly close to chris. he’d thrown on a pair of black ed hardy shorts that jake had no intention of ever wearing and you were in your short pyjama bottoms, and at every single moment from then your skin was touching. it started as sitting back in the circle you left, legs crossed and knees touching. which led to the occasional arm touch as you laughed at each others jokes. that lead to you leaning into him as you got tired, to eventually sitting inbetween his legs, his chest as a back support as he lay his chin atop your head as you spoke to the people around you. his hands around your waist and your hands clasped against his.

when it was time to leave, you made him promise to text when he got home as you walking him to the front door, but it was only second before he was pushing you against the wall. his hands under your jaw as your kiss deepened, and at one point you where sure that actually, scrap the dinner, he was going to end up staying the night or taking you home, before he finally pulled away, a breathless “i’ll see you tomorrow” escaping his lip before he turned to meet his brothers in the car.

you had not felt this way in a long time. had never had a guy treat you like an actual human being and not just someone to get into bed. so yes, tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough. hangover or no hangover, you were excited to spend some time with him.

"do you like him?" tara says now, looking at you, and you give her a smile.

"its too early to say, isn't it?" you ask, and tara rolls her eyes.

"im assuming you agreed to dinner tomorrow?"

"yes"

she laughs. "so yes. you like him. when was the last time you went to dinner with somebody?"

and you're laughing too, because deep down you know that chris might most defiantly become more than just a few dates.

tagged : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Part Two

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut. oral (fem recieving). choking. 18+

Summary: Y/N has been staying at the Autumn Court for a while and has been getting closer to Eris.

A/N: I apologise if the smut is awful, I haven’t written it in quite a while. But on a better note, this will have at least two more parts and I cannot wait for you to see what I have in store!

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

It had been six months since Y/N Archeron had made a home for herself in the Autumn Court. Her life in the Autumn Court was good, great even. Eris always made sure that she had everything she needed, sometimes he even provided more than what was necessary but it never felt like it was overbearing. He would always allow Y/N to leave whenever she wished and didn’t fight her when she wanted to be alone. He respected her in a way Y/N had never experienced before. 

The mating bond was something Eris had addressed rather quickly, he didn’t want Y/N to feel as if she needed to accept it. He gave that choice to her and he never brought it up again. Y/N still felt the pull in her chest toward Eris but she wasn’t sure if it was just the mating bond anymore. Whenever she wanted someone to talk to, she would seek him out and he would always make himself available. 

It was her first month of being in the Autumn Court when Y/N sought Eris out for the first time. Y/N would be lying is she said that she missed the Night Court. But she wouldn’t be lying if she said she missed her sisters. In her whole twenty-eight years of life, Y/N had her sisters by her side. Even if they hadn’t gone out of their way for her in the past couple of years, she still knew that they were close by. Now they were far away and Y/N realised the decision she had made. 

The moment Eris had found out that Y/N wanted to speak to her, he left in the middle of his meeting. 

“What’s wrong?” Eris had asked, concern etched into his brow. 

Y/N was teary eyed as she explained to Eris everything she had been feeling. He even offered to take her back to the Night Court. Y/N refused, she didn’t want to go back. The Autumn Court had felt more like home than the Night Court ever did. 

“I don’t want to leave,” Y/N told Eris. “I wish to stay, I am just finding it hard.”

Y/N remembered Eris nodding before walking her down the hallways and away from the meeting hall. He brought her to her room and asked the servant to bring two mugs of hot chocolate. She remembered how he sat and listened to her for hours and occasionally added in his own comments, to either offer words of comfort to just to make her smile. He sat with her until she fell asleep. 

The more Y/N spoke to Eris, the more Rhysand was wrong about him. He might have had a mask up around everyone else. That impenetrable mask of intimidation, bluntness and rudeness. But around her, he let it melt away into nothing, letting Y/N see the real him. Eris was kind to her. He made her laugh in a way no one had ever before. He listened to her and made sure she was okay. He cared for her. Eris was the only person to prioritise Y/N. It made Y/N’s heart sing.

“It’s nearly nightfall,” Eris situated himself down on the blanket Y/N was laying down on, snapping her from her thoughts. 

Y/N glanced at him and grinned. Something she had found herself doing more and more. “I know, I just enjoy being out here.”

The trees rustled with the slight breeze. It was chilly yet Y/N was warm wrapped in her soft thick jacket in the colours of the Autumn Court. 

Eris smiled and laid down next to her, his gaze never leaving hers. “Then I will join you.”

The hand rested by Y/N’s side twitched. His hand was so close and she could feel its warmth. Y/N knew what Eris’s hand felt like but since the night of the ball, she had never felt them again. Eris respected her decision about the mating bond. Y/N wanted time to think about it, and he allowed it. He never touched her without directly asking her, he never did anything to make her accept the bond. He simply waited for her decision patiently. 

“You don’t need to,” Y/N said. “It is quite cold.”

With a simple flick of his wrist, a fire road in front of the blanket, instantly warming the two. Y/N smiled. The warmth seemed to wrap around her body in a tight hug. Y/N only wished that it wasn’t the fire hugging her. 

“I wish I could do that,” Y/N said, sitting up. 

Eris copied her movements. “The cauldron didn’t give you anything.”

Y/N shook her head. “Nesta took it all, I think. I am just ordinary.”

“You are nothing of the sort,” Eris scolded.

Y/N shrugged. “My sisters all got wonderful powers and I got nothing. I was even overlooked by a stupid cauldron.”

“Who gives a shit if the cauldron didn’t give you powers,” Eris siad, frowning. “You are perfect the way you are.”

Y/N didn’t look too convinced as she started at the fire Eris had created. Eris didn’t look away from Y/N as he watched the expression on her face fall. His heart fell. With another flick of his wrist the fire was gone and Y/N tore her gaze away. 

Y/N didn’t even have a chance to speak before fire began to creep up her arm. The way it moved was like a snake as it touched and caressed her body. It didn’t burn or set anything alight. It was soothing and warm. Y/N glanced at Eris who had a soft smile on his face. She smiled in response. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Y/N said as she raised her arm and watched the fire weave between her fingers in awe. 

“Keep your hand flat,” Eris said and Y/N obeyed and flattened her hand, keeping her fingers together. 

The fire seemed to take shape, slowly morphing into a small bird. Y/N gasped as it took flight and flew around her. Y/N tracked its movements, her smile bright. Eris only kept his eyes glued to Y/N. The joy in her face was an expression Eris wished to see her with more. She looked as if all of her worries had vanished and it was his doing. 

The bird flew ahead of her before changing back into the roaring fire from before. Y/N’s joy didn’t fade as she looked at Eris to find him already looking at her. Y/N’s heart swelled and she was sure it wasn’t just the bond making her feel the way she was. 

“That was beautiful,” Y/N said, her hand twitching once again, his hand was so close to hers. 

The way Eris was looking at her made Y/N slowly move closer. She felt that tug in her chest and for once she followed it. After six months of her talking to Eris and feeling her heart being to mend piece by piece solidified her decision, and the final piece that was broken finally repaired itself as she sat with Eris on the small picnic blanket. 

Y/N finally inched her hand closer to touch Eris. His skin was warm and welcoming. Still he didn’t move and allowed Y/N to lace her fingers with his. At the simple touch of their hands, the bond seemed to tighten and Y/N found herself physically getting closer to him. 

It had been six months since the bond had snapped into place and Y/N had felt that for six months something small had been missing. Of course Eris had given her the space she needed to process everything but he was the missing part that she needed to fully accept everything. She had been happier than ever in the past six months but the bond within her always tugged her in Eris’s direction. 

But eventually it wasn’t just the bond that tugged her in Eris’s direction. It was her own heart. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know you have given me space over the time I have been here. But I have felt a pull toward you these past couple months and I know now that it isn’t just the mating bond.”

Eris’s eyes scanned her face as he looked for any sense of her not telling the truth. There was none. Y/N felt his hand tighten around hers as he brought it closer to him. 

“It was my own heart pulling me toward you,” Y/N confessed. “You have shown me nothing but kindness since I met you. You have spoken me late into the night, you have left in the middle of meetings for me. You have put me first before anyone.”

Eris brought her hand up and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Y/N, if you are saying what I think you are going to say, please say it.”

“I want to accept the bond, Eris,” Y/N replied, inching closer to him. “I have fallen in love with you in my time here and I want to spend my life with you.”

A smile broke out on Eris’s face. “You are telling the truth?”

Y/N nodded. “I am. You are a good male, Eris. Others might not be able to see that, but I can.”

Eris tugged her hand until she was pulled close to his chest. Y/N settled her arm around Eris’s neck as his other hand caressed the side of her face. The light emitting from the fire seemed to light up his eyes and Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. From up close she could count the freckles on his face. They weren’t extremely visible from far away but as her face was only inches from his, she wanted to spend all day counting them just so she could stay this close. 

“Y/N…” Eris whispered. 

“Eris…” 

When their lips connected, the fire seemed to roar behind them, getting larger and larger. Eris’s powers seemed to amplify. 

He kissed her harder and pressed her body against his. Y/N groaned as his hands roamed her body. The jacket she wore suddenly felt too constricting. Y/N shrugged it from her shoulders without disconnecting their lips. The moment the jacket was discarded next to her, Y/N’s arms wrapped around Eris’s shoulders and her fingers tangled in his hair. 

“I have food with me,” Y/N broke away and mumbled against his lips. 

Eris looked shocked. “You want to accept it now?”

Y/N nodded and rested her forehead against his. “I think we have wasted enough time already.”

Eris smiled as Y/N shuffled away from him to reach into her bag. While she was busy Eris noticed the fire had returned to its normal state, no longer did it roar with life, while reaching heights it never had before. 

“It is only a small cupcake,” Y/N said, diverting Eris’s attention back to her. “But I think it will do.” Eris grinned at her as she straddled his lap, situating herself above him. 

“Y/N, you must know that as soon as I accept it, I might not be able to control myself,” Eris said, brushing a hair away from her face.

Y/N leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m counting on it.”

The eldest Archeron lifted the cupcake to his lips and Eris took a bite, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. As soon as he swallowed the bit, Y/N seemed to flood with a burning need. She felt hot and ached for Eris. 

“Y/N…” Eris growled as she lowered the cake and threw it back on top of her bag. “I need you.”

“Then have me,” Y/N’s voice was low and full of need. 

Eris smashed their lips together and pressed his chest tightly against hers. The desire within Y/N was unlike any other. She had felt desire before in her life, but never as much as she was experiencing. She needed Eris more than she had ever needed anyone.  Y/N throbbed as she ground her hips down, her core rubbing across Eris’s crotch. They were wearing too many clothes. 

Y/N panted as she pulled away from Eris to grip his shirt and ripped it open, the buttons flying out before getting lost in the grass. Y/N’s mouth watered at Eris’s bare chest. His broad shoulders held a few healed scars, Y/N kissed every single one as Eris pulled the ripped shirt away from his body. 

Their lips connected once more and Y/N whimpered as Eris thrust his hips up. His hardened length brushed her in all the right places. Y/N gasped. 

“I need to get you out of these clothes,” Eris mumbled against her lips as he began to unlace the back of her dress, lips attacking her neck in many open mouthed kisses. 

Y/N closed her eyes in pure bliss. It was almost animalistic how much she needed Eris to be buried deep within her. Thrusting his hips up and hitting all of the right spots to send her tumbling over the edge. She was almost feral. Y/N didn’t even care that anyone could come across the two fucking in the woods. 

The fire roared beside them. The heat of it only egged Y/N and Eris on more. The flames nearly reached the top of the trees. Eris’s power seemed to be amplified as he kissed Y/N. 

Y/N’s dress fell away from her chest and revealed her breasts and Eris kissed across her shoulder and down the valley of her breasts. 

“Eris,” Y/N panted, pulling on his hair. “Please!”

Eris smirked against her skin and stroked his tongue over her left nipple. Y/N arched forward craving more. 

He laid her down on her back and kissed down her body, savouring the gasps slipping from her lips as he spread her legs wide. She dripped onto the blanket beneath them. Y/N was sure she had never been this wet before. 

A brush of his fingertips over her core, sent Y/N gasping, thrusting her hips into his touch. 

Eris chuckled darkly. “You are a needy thing, my love.”

His words sent a tingle of pleasure throughout her body. “Only for you, Eris.”

“You are so desperate for me,” Eris said, his mouth nearing where Y/N craved him the most. “So wet.”

Y/N swore she saw stars as Eris wrapped his lips around that bundle of nerves. Her hand flew to his hair pulling his head closer to her as she fucked his face, taking as much pleasure as she wanted. 

Eris moaned at the taste. He would never admit to Y/N but he had fucked his fist many times at the thought of this. His head buried between her thighs drawing out the small desperate sounds. His fingers prodded her entrance as he harshly sucked her clit. 

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She couldn;t clamp her legs together as Eris had a firm grip on one of them, keeping her spread open for him. Deep down she knew that she should be embarrassed. Anyone could walk upon the two of them and witness Y/N naked and fucking the High Lords face as he fucked her with his fingers. But she didn’t care, her focus was on the pleasure Eris was giving her. 

That feeling in the pit of Y/N’s stomach was building as Eris groaned against her clit as he ground his hips into the blanket beneath him. 

“You taste so good,” Eris fucked her faster with his fingers. “And the noises you make for me are music to my ears.”

Y/N let out a rather high pitch moan as he kissed her inner thighs. The pleasure within her was building but Y/N didn’t want to come this way. At least not the first time. She wanted to come with his face between her legs but the first time she wanted to come over his cock and milk him with everything she had. 

“Eris, I need you to fuck me now,” Y/N begged, her voice desperate. “I need it.”

Eris moved his mouth from her clit and removed his fingers and he slowly made his way back up her body, node brushing over her hot skin. He hovered over Y/N’s face as they panted, sharing each other’s air. Eris’s amber eyes were blown wide with desire and the fire reflected within them. Y/N cupped his face before smashing her lips onto his own. Is could taste herself on his tounge. 

There was nothing romantic about the kiss.Teeth clashed and Y/N harshly bit Eris’s lip. A low growl emitted from Eris as he thrust his hips harshly against Y/N’s. 

“Get on top of me,” Eris said and removed himself from Y/N and sat back. 

Y/N looked up and watched as he shrugged off his trousers, letting his cock spring free. Y/N’s mouth watered. Eris gave himself a few pumps before Y/N pounced on top of him. A low chuckle came from Eris as he wrapped his arms around Y/N, pressing her body tightly against his. 

Y/N was dripping with need as was Eris. Both of them needed one another, the bond connecting them flooded each of them with arousal. 

“Take what you need, my love,” Eris said, his tone surprisingly gentle as he caressed her cheek. 

One moment his hand was gently caressing her cheek and the next moment his was wrapped around her throat. A guttural moan left Y/N’s lips as Eris supplied the smallest amount of pressure. His rings dug into her skin, cool against the burning of her skin. 

Inch by inch Y/N sat down on him, her mouth open in a silent scream as she fully sunk down on him. He filled her perfectly. Almost immediately, Y/N began to move her hips, drawing out the pleasure. The small noises that came from Eris only made her move faster. Y/N was sure she had never been more aroused at the sound of a male moaning than she had when she listened to the noises Eris made. She never wanted to stop hearing them. 

The grip Eris had on Y/N’s throat tightened as he smirked. “Take it all, my love.”

Y/N moaned loudly and dug her nails into his broad shoulders. The feeling deep within her was rising and she raced to get there. 

“I need…” Y/N panted, completely absorbed in her pleasure. “Harder. Please Eris.”

Eris chuckled and laid down on the blanket and planted his feet firmly flat and thrust up into her, driving into her deeper than he had before. Y/N screamed as one of her hands fell from his shoulder and rubbed her clit. 

“Fuck,” Eris breathed. “You are so tight, love.”

Y/N attached her lips to his neck, just below his jaw. Eris let a loud moan slip past his lips as he gripped her ass, his fingers digging in harshly. Y/N already knew that she would be littered in small bruises. 

The fire around them roared as it circled the two in a fiery cocoon, blocking off any view of them within the flames. It didn’t hurt, the warmth was pleasant. Y/N sat up and moved her hips furiously on top of Eris. She was close and so was he. His own thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier. 

Eris pushed her own hand away from her clit and he pressed his thumb against it and drew small circles around it. Y/N wined and scratched her nails down Eris’s chest. 

Y/N spoke incoherently as she begged Eris. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was begging for exactly but she needed to come. She desperately needed it. And from the sounds he was making, so was Eris. 

“Come for me, my love,” Eris said, gritting his teeth. “Come for me.”

Eris applied more pressure against her clit and after a few more thrusts, Y/N felt herself falling over that edge. She moaned so loudly that would have surely been heard if it wasn’t for the sound of the crackling fire drawing out the sound. The sounds that slipped from Y/N’s lips was enough to drag Eris over the edge with her, he spilled into her as his chest heaved up and down. Y/N rode him through his orgasm before coming to a stop. The fire around them died down until it was only a small ring of fire surrounding the two, barely a few inches in height. 

The two panted and tried to catch their breath. Eris gazed up at Y/N as she finally opened her eyes. Their eyes met and they smiled. Eris’s hair was a mess and the ends stuck up in many directions, a complete contrast from his usually immaculately styled hair. 

Y/N slipped off of Eris, his cum spilling out of her. If she wasn’t so exhausted, she would cringe at the feeling but she didn’t care. Eris pulled her down next to ehr and tucked her into his side. He brushed away the strands of hair that stuck to her sweaty face and gazed lovingly at her. Y/N curled into his side. 

Y/N savoured the feeling of the cool breeze. Her breathing was evening out as her and Eris laid there in silence. The only sound came from the small fire and the rustling of the trees. There was no one walking around the grounds. If there were, Y/N was sure they would not have approached. Either from the cocoon of fire or the loud moaning and slapping of skin that echoed throughout the grounds. 

“My mate,” Eris whispered. 

Y/N opened her eyes and found Eris grinning at her. Y/N suddenly wanted to shy away from his gaze. It was intense and full of love and passion. She was sure no one had ever looked at her that way before. 

Eris pressed a kiss against her forehead, his lips lingering there. “I am sure you do have some powers of your own.”

“What?” Y/N questioned. “How do you know?”

“Because I have never lost control of my power like that before,” Eris said. “I have been with females before and none of them have ever made me feel like that.”

“Isn’t it just the mating bond?” Y/N asked.

Eris lightly shook his head. “I don’t think so. My powers seemed amplified somehow. When you touched me for the first time all those months ago, I felt it then too. I did think it was just that mating bond, but it is definitely different.”

Y/N pressed a kiss against his jaw. “We can experiment with it.”

Eris nodded. “We can.” Eris pressed a kiss against her lips, full of tenderness and love. Their lips moved in sync as the kiss gradually got more and more desperate. “But first, I am going to fuck you again until you will not be able to walk in the morning.”

Y/N whimpered. “And what if I want to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

“Well, my dear Y/N, that can be arranged,” Eris said. “Because I will do anything you say. I am yours.”

Y/N smiled and smashed her lips against his. The fire grew around them once again.

[adams-angels]

Adam sfw/nsfw hcs? I love your work! Thanks!!

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

SFW

I'm gonna start off strong by saying socks and sandals. Thinks it's great.

Will stop listening when he's losing an argument. Stutters and minces up his words if he gets flustered or too aggravated.

Lute is his best friend

Says he has tons on friend but in reality lute is his only friend

This man thinks he's higher up in the food chain than he actually is. Which then leads to weak apologies from him

Doesn't go anywhere without his mask. Really big believer in that he doesn't like showing his face because both his wife's left him

Still absolutely bitter about that btw

Has an unhealthy coping mechanism when it comes to jealously.

For example, your an angel and some newbie starts talking with you and there's nothing really in it but he opens a portal to hell when your not looking and literally kicks the guy through it before closing the portal.

Or if your a sinner and you're telling him about someone who helped you the other day he will HUNT THEM DOWN next extermination day... If he can wait that long.

Likes getting you lil gifts, key chains, magnets, pins. He'll see a little thing and think that's perfect and wont hesitate buying it for you.

He won't give it to you though. He'll leave it somewhere obvious in his apartment for you to notice and go "oh, that's cute." For him to shrug and say "it's okay. You want it?" It took a while before you actually started accepting gifts this way

In public he will get you the biggest things. Giant teddy bear. New TV. A unicorn. But that's just to show everyone that he spoils you. That no one can treat you as well as him.

Loves lazy days

Also loves it when you preen his wings

Was the kinda guy that didn't have any kind of skin care until he met you and now you're both chilling with facemasks on.

Has panic attacks when he thinks you're going to leave him

When he's not wearing his mask he will not smile. It's really difficult to get him to smile or laugh when he's not wearing a mask.

But he's got the most beautiful smile

You managed you get him to laugh because you fell. What? He's still an asshole.

You couldn't be mad at him. He sounded so happy.

Has dumb pet names for everyone he's close to. Some are cute. Some are absolutely vulger. "Sweetness." "Babe." "Cutie" "cockwarmer." "Adam's dumpster." "Precious."

He's insecure AF baby

Loves hearing you say you love him

Will only tell you he loves you in private.

Would take a very special case for him to say it in public

If you get in a serious argument with him he'll run away in anger. He'll then come back after an hour or so begging you not to leave.

Sorry I really love pathetic Adam. fight me.

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

NSFW

Ik everyone says it's great at sex but I don't think he would be 🤷🏻‍♀️ not at the beginning anyway

I think he's a selfish lover and it takes someone he really cares about to make any changes

Would absolutely finish inside you then fall asleep soz babes

His cock is good tho. Likes it's a biggen. Length and width.

It was probably made to fit perfectly so

At least that's what he says

He won't believe it if you dont orgasm the first time you have sex with him. Everyone else has! Why wouldn't you?!

Well, Adam, they lied, sweetie.

Loves getting his cock sucked.

Asks for it constantly

If he gets in an argument with you he'll probably say "I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I got head."

He loves eating you out. Watching you squirm while his tongue is inside you really gets him going.

Likes you have you sat on his face so he can hold you down

He cried the first time he had sex with you after realising he loves you

Will beg to be loved when he's close to finishing. "Tell me you love me!"

Will get embarrassed after the fact

He was adamant he didn't like you. That you were just hot. But one day found himself jerking to the thought of you and that post nut clarity hit like a freight train.

Loves being praised ofc

Breeding kink. I mean come on. He was made to populate the earth. It was literally his job.

Loves rough sex, being in charge.

Will get possessive during sex

If he's having a bad day he'll be a lot more desperate and a hell of a lot more possessive

"mine" is his favourite word.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[rxmqnova]

Hi. So this is based on something similar that happened on a family holiday once.

WandaNat mums and kid reader.

R is half asleep when we arrive at the airport. Mums are busy with Yelena and the twins so we get quickly sat on the suitcases and wheeled inside.

Everyone enjoys the first day on holiday, until it comes to bedtime. R can't find her baby blanket anywhere. The whole family look and nothing. Until Natasha thinks back and realises it's still in the car.

Knowing we can't sleep without our blankie Natasha calls in a favour and makes the 8 hour round flight to pick the comfort item up.

The next morning (where we're super grumpy and demand that mummy Wanda carries us around) we shuffle into the living room to find both mama nat and blankie curled up on the sofa.

Totally exhausted we curl up with mama and sleep almost straight away.

We never realise what mama had just done for us. But Mummy does. And she falls more in love with her for it.

Please and thank you 😊

The pink bear blankie

Y/N: 3 years old Billy and Tommy: 10 years old Wanda: Mommy Natasha: Mama ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Sleepy, mama" Y/N whines, burying her head into Natasha's neck as the redhead only just took her out of the car, one of Y/N's small hands playing with Natasha's ear piercings while the other one is wrapped around her mama's neck tightly.

"I know you are, sweetheart. You can sleep on the plane, yeah?" Natasha smiles, pressing a kiss to her baby's cheek while rubbing her back.

"Boys, you got everything?" Wanda asks her two sons, raising an eyebrow as they've been arguing about something.

"Yes, mom" Both answer.

"Yelena, do you have everything?" Natasha asks her sister, knowing she's the one who's most likely to forget something.

"Yes, yes, Natasha. I have everything" Yelena rolls her eyes, taking her suitcase and walking inside just behind the boys and Wanda.

"And now you, детка" Natasha sits the tiny girl that's been in her arms on her suitcase, getting a tired smile in response. "Is that fun, Y/N/N?" She asks with a chuckle, looking at her daughter who's tiredly smiling and looking around. (baby)

———

The flight was fine. Y/N fell asleep as soon as Natasha sat down with her on her lap, the boys were busy with watching a movie, Yelena was listening to some music and Wanda with Natasha had finally some time to talk and just enjoy each other's presence.

As soon as the family arrived to the holiday house they're staying at and unpacked some of their things, they went on the beach.

Everyone had a great time, especially Y/N as she got to build a sandcastle with both her mommies while Yelena was doing silly things with the twins.

"It's bedtime for Y/N, baby. Come on" Wanda smiles, lifting her daughter up with a playful groan. "Say night night"

"Ni-night" Y/N says, resting her head on Wanda's shoulder and giving everyone in the room a wave.

The tiny girl would normally complain about going to bed, but today has really worned her out. Natasha smiles, pressing a kiss to her baby's forehead and telling her goodnight along with the others.

Wanda carries Y/N into the bedroom, placing her down on bed, but the tiny girl sits up immediately.

"Where's my blankie, mommy?" Y/N questions, not seeing her little pink bear blankie anywhere in bed.

"I'm sure it's somewhere around, baby" Wanda assures, looking for the item.

She's one hundred percent sure Y/N had her blankie when they left their house, so it must be somewhere around, right?

After minutes of looking around, Wanda just sits her daughter on her hip and carries her back to the living room where is the rest of the family playing uno.

"Everything okay?" Natasha asks, noticing her wife and daughter's presence in the living room.

"Have you seen Y/N's blankie? " Wanda asks, getting a no from everybody. "Can you help us find it?"

"Alright, let's go, boys" Natasha smiles, standing up.

Every single person starts looking for Y/N's blankie. They search through every single corner of the house, but the baby blanket is just nowhere.

Natasha goes through her mind, trying to picture the whole day and then it clicks. Y/N last had her blankie in the car, so they must had left it there.

"You can stop looking, I think I know where it is" Natasha sighs, walking over to Wanda who looks at her with hope the blankie is found. "I think it stayed in the car"

"Oh no, what do we do now? Y/N won't sleep without it" Wanda sighs.

"Mommy" Y/N whines, making her way over to her mothers. It's already way past her bedtime and she's extremely tired, but without her blankie she just won't sleep.

"I know, honey" Wanda sighs once again, lifting Y/N up and sitting her on her hip. "How about you try to sleep without your blankie tonight, hm?"

Those words are enough to make Y/N cry and Natasha volunteers to try to put Y/N down as it's time for the boys to go to sleep too by now.

So while Wanda's tucking in the twins, Yelena's occupying the TV and Natasha's walking around the whole place, rocking her crying daughter back and forth while humming her a lullaby.

But after two hours of not making any progress, she gives up. If they want to get some sleep during the vacation there's only one thing to do.

"Nat, are you sure? It's so late and the flight is so long" Wanda sighs.

"I am. Y/N obviously won't go to sleep without it. I'll just grab it and be back by morning" Natasha smiles and pecks Wanda's lips before placing a kiss to Y/N's head who is now in Wanda's arms. "I love you"

"I love you too" Wanda smiles back, stealing one more kiss from her wife and then watching her leave.

———

Y/N slept for like 3 hours in total during the night. Both, her and Wanda, are absolutely exhausted, but if there's no blankie, there's just no sleep.

"Noo, mommy, no" Y/N whines, lifting her tiny legs up, so Wanda wouldn't be able to stand her on the ground.

Wanda doesn't have the energy to deal with another tantrum, so she just goes with it and somehow manages to make a quick breakfast for her and Y/N with her grumpy daughter attached to her hip.

Y/N eventually decides to watch a cartoon in the living room after breakfast. And because she refuses to walk once again, Wanda carries her there.

"Mama" Y/N whispers to herself, a grin appearing on her face when she spots her mama curled up with her blankie on the couch and sleeping. "Mommy, down!" She immediately orders, trying to wiggle out of Wanda's strong hold.

And as soon as Wanda manages to stand her daughter on the ground, Y/N runs to the couch, climbing it and cuddling up to Natasha and the blankie.

Wanda can't help but smile on the sight. She still can't believe Natasha just flew all the way to New York and back just to pick up Y/N's blankie.

Her smile widens when she realizes Y/N's already fast asleep, curled up into her mama's side with her blankie secured in her arms.

Y/N is still just a little girl and surely won't realize what Natasha did for her, but Wanda knows. And this is exactly why she fell in love with the redhead in the first place.

Natasha would do anything for their children and that's what Wanda adores the most. And every single moment like this just makes her fall more and more in love with her wife.

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

WandaNat masterlist

Masterlist

[holybibly]

I will be sharing my thoughts with you during a week filled with hard hours. 

We always talk about how jealous and possessive Hongjoong is, but darlings, I am going to share with you three of the most toxic and jealous bombshells, in my opinion. 

San is an absolute gentleman, a whole bloody "forest,"  not your ordinary green flag. But behind this perfect facade, there is a monster that he hides very well. San is clingy and possessive to the point of impossibility; you call Wooyoung clingy. Hold my champagne; San is a million times worse than him. At first, it's easy; you'd never notice how smoothly and exquisitely he begins to brainwash you. 

"Let's stay at home, Chagi, just the two of us."

"I can take care of you, I don't think you need to go to work."

"I love the time we spend together, I never want to let you go."

"I'm so in love with you."

Step by step, he draws you into a trap and completely monopolizes your attention. It's just you and him. The sex has always been so amazing. In the beginning, San would be so careful and gentle, so attentive. The more your relationship develops, the more violent he becomes. He treats you possessively and roughly, literally fucking you into oblivion. 

"You belong only to me."

"I own that fucking pussy."

"No one will ever be able to fuck you like me."

But worst of all, you believe him. You believe every word he says. You quit your job. You wait for him at home, obedient and beautiful, in his soft sweatshirts, smelling of his perfume, covered with the marks of his passionate kisses and bites. And yes, San does bite to the point of blood and bruises. 

Everyone around him thinks he's such a nice guy, but look closely. There's a darkness in those feline eyes, and if you look long enough, you'll see it. But be careful. You might just get his full attention.

Seonghwa is handsome. He is too handsome for his own good, and he uses it all the time. A real prince who will win your heart is polite, attentive, a real dream boy. 

It's hard for you to believe that someone like him could love a simple and ordinary girl like you; you don't think of yourself as ugly. Just ordinary, there are millions like you, but Seonghwa. Seonghwa is one-of-a-kind.

When you start dating, he keeps saying how lucky he is to have you. How happy he is that he has found someone so special. And he means it. Just not the way you think he means it.

For him, you're an endless source of self-gratification. He'll do anything to get you to praise him, to talk about how beautiful he is, how talented he is, how damned perfect he is. Once Seonghwa realises you're head over heels in love with him, you'll never run away again and your sweet boyfriend will become a real demon.

You have your attention on someone else, he'll fuck you in front of the mirror as punishment, constantly taunting, mocking and humiliating, so you can have a look at his gorgeous face in the reflection while he's doing this.

"You are so worthless, you should be fucking grateful to have such a gorgeous guy like me in your life. Or do you have the idea that anyone else could have a pickup a bitch like you?"

"You pathetic whore, look who's fucking you.

"Aren't I enough for you? Look into my eyes while I pulling you down on my dick."

He will destroy everything you've ever dreamed of, and everything you love, until there is nothing left in your head but him. Glorify him, glorify him incessantly, talk about how wonderful he is, and Seonghwa will give you heaven. "Because you're so beautiful" should accompany every "I love you". Every "thank you" should be followed by: "Because I have you, how could I want more?"

You're just going to stop being aware of the whole world outside of Seonghwa. That's why, my dear, you should be careful when you give a compliment to someone. You might just find yourself one-to-one with a demonic hunger of a gentle prince charming.

Mingi's in love with you. Or rather, he's in love with the idea that he's in love with you. Can't you see that? He's a puppy in love, but on closer inspection, he's more like a hungry wolf on the hunt for his sweet little prey.

The universe's softest boy. Endless hugs, cute nicknames, long kisses and a never-ending stream of words of love. He'll shower you with presents, flowers so many they'll make your flat look like a greenhouse.

"I love to love you, baby."

"Can you feel this, babe? Can you feel how much I am in love with you?" He whispers in your ear. Your whole body trembles at the powerful, rigid thrust of his thighs.

His rhythm is brutal, the bed is pounding against the wall, with such tangible force that the paint on it starts to crack.

He holds you to the bed with one hand, the other tucks his fingers into the soft curve of your thigh, his rings scratching the skin to the point of blood, his nails digging into the flesh, leaving deep blue marks.

"I'm going to love you until I die."

"l will never let you go, babe."

"No one will ever be able to love you as much as I do."

We've all heard that story about wolves wearing sheepskins. So think twice before you fall in love with that shiny puppy look - maybe it's just a clever disguise for a terrifying wolf who's on the prowl.

[eluxcastar]

Dottore giving child reader a check up

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: nobody scares you more than the Doctor, and that's why you're wholly betrayed by Father tricking you into getting a check up right under your nose, but perhaps your worries are exaggerated by rumours

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, he's a lil soft (cause if he's not poor kid might explode on site), reader is mute, reader is also autistic (but tbh you don't have to read it that way), not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

idk what possessed me to write this I just has the thought and decided it had to be done. I got in the zone and wrote it in a few hours 😭 this is kinda loosely based off one of my characters but ambiguous enough I think to be read as a reader insert. little ball of anxiety with legs reader hehe. they come from the house of the hearth so every instance of father refers to arle

You can't think of a single person able to scare you nearly as much as the Doctor can, whether it's the daunting trip to find him wherever he hid this time or the fear of knowing he tried to bargain with Father to have the more unimpressive children—as some would call you—shipped off to him to become experiments.

Father won't allow him to get his hands on any of you, but it hardly eases the fear that he may disregard Father's warning and decide to pluck the first child he comes across up and feign ignorance when she realises they've disappeared.

Father personally entrusted you with this letter, so you cannot turn back as you make your way to where she said he should be. 

The sleepiness might manage to numb you to the danger by the time you arrive and make it easier to stomach his presence, but most likely, he will only frighten you awake, and it will worsen with the shock to your system.

There's no turning back now and no declining when Father asks you to take letters, which she says are of great importance. You can't treat letters like this lightly, even if you fear the recipient.

Knowing who is behind it makes the door all the more daunting. Doors that separate you from Harbingers always make you nervous as it's not every day you find yourself faced with one armed only with a letter and shaking hands. If it were anyone else, you could've knocked in a heartbeat, but you pause to gather your bearings before raising your hand to knock.

One two, three…four. Spaced just as Columbina taught you to, and then you wait.

Several seconds pass in silence before you hear footsteps from inside, then a voice calling out to you. "The door is unlocked."

You reach for the handle, cautiously cracking open the door just enough to peek inside. Your eyes travel across the room from your left to your right until you spy Dottore seated in a chair facing away from you. He hears you, evident in the way he turns to look at you as you work up the courage to step inside and leave the door ajar behind you.

"It's you," he remarks, the closest to acknowledgment you expect to receive. You are about to make your way to hand him the letter when he interrupts you. "Close the door."

The door is always closed here like it's trying to keep someone out, but there's no one here that he would dread seeing who would knock and accept that the door is locked. He must not be trying to convince anyone of that, and if he was, maybe he'd lock the door for real and leave everyone stranded outside instead of talking.

Dottore makes you nervous. You don't know what he thinks or why, but you probably don't like it. It's the only reason why he would be here right now. Normal doctoring wouldn't get him far as a Harbinger, and the sounds you've heard coming from his lab are enough to deter you from wondering too much. 

Instead, you quietly spin yourself around to push the door closed before returning to your endeavour of handing him this letter from Father she entrusted you with.

"Who is it from?" he asks, a question you remember him asking before too. You concluded that he's trying to gauge how eager he is to read it, and your answer will set his mood for the remainder of your stay.

You turn the envelope over to show him the seal on the back, which you hold out to him. The mark of the House of the Hearth—Father's seal—is displayed so that Dottore can glean the answer from wordless actions. He accepts it from your hand with a stifled eagerness, the hopes of something he'll enjoy written there held back by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it's a trivial matter.

The moment the letter leaves your hands, you retreat to the safety of the door, where you stand beside the frame to await a half-hearted reaction or collect his response. Father is always happy when you return to the House to inform her that Dottore sighed when he read her letter, even if she regards the news with her usual stoicism. She despises when he bothers to send something back to her, but she never tells you why, as usual.

He collects something off his desk just out of your sight, hidden behind him, and the sound of paper tearing follows. He drops the twice-folded paper into his hand, then unfurls it to read the contents.

You wait in silence, nerves evening out as you rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. Sleepiness does help you occupy yourself if nothing else.

Then, you are interrupted by a snap of his fingers and a motion of his hand to usher you closer. 

Keeping him waiting will only make him mad, though you're sure not enough time has passed for him to pen any cohesive message in the minute or two you spent waiting.

You look up in anticipation nonetheless, expecting him to hand you something or tell you something so when he reaches toward you, it doesn't alarm you. 

Not until he grabs you beneath your arms, picks you up, and sits you down on the table, much closer to eye level with him.

"Arlecchino has her concerns about your sleeping habits and your seeming lack of will to speak," he begins, reaching behind you to grab something you barely follow before he has it in his hands. It's only a light, small and thinner than the torches at the House.

Your mind races with every question you can think of as you try to find a way off this table back to the floor, but the only way out is blocked by Dottore sitting in front of you, unsympathetic to the fear in your eyes when you stare at him. You could swear you hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears in a quickened rhythm.

What was written in that letter? Was it about you? It takes only a brief glance down in search of the open letter to realise exactly what makes this delivery so important. Father tricked you into coming here to see the Doctor after you so eagerly declined her previous offer to go willingly. You catch glimpses of your name in Father's handwriting and little else as it blurs into a messy sea of details, but you always recognise how Father writes your name.

You know better than to assume this is punishment but rather the manifestation of Father's worry as you keep oversleeping lately and need one of the older children to fetch you from the comfort of your bed. The idea that habit would land you here, presumably getting a check-up, might've inspired you to prize yourself out of bed a little earlier had you known.

Dottore seems to gauge your trembling as an obvious sign of fear, though a twitch at the corner of his lips is your only indicator, as you can't see his eyes beneath the mask. "Her explicit concern was whether or not you're ill." He rests his hand against your knee— they're cold, yet you almost expect it. It doesn't mean you especially like it. You can only interpret the action as a skewed attempt to comfort you. "As long as you're healthy, I see no reason to keep you longer than a simple check up."

He's not a real doctor, is all you can think, and he doesn't know what he's doing.

You have no choice but to steel yourself for whatever pain you're about to be subjected to. It might hurt, but you have no way out, no way back to Father, so you can curl up in a ball at her feet and ask why she would subject you to this torture—

"Don't tense your jaw," you suddenly hear, realising his finger taps your knee to grab your attention back from dreamland. "Open your mouth," he instructs you, and rather simply at that. It's something you can follow without getting scared he'll hurt you somehow.

He shines that light at you, inspecting something, though you can't say what. A slight tilt of his hand and, by proxy, the light he's holding is your only sign he's looking at anything.

The light is off before you know it. There was no pain at all, not even a hint of discomfort beyond what naturally arises from your ever-present anxiousness.

Dottore moves to set the light beside you, then appears to change his mind as he offers it to you. You take it from his hand and click it just as he had, the light coming on again. Another click, and it's off. Holding it just like that, an object of clicks and ridges and a light you can play with, is enough to give you something to at least take your mind off the fear of getting hurt.

"Lift your head." 

This time, compliance comes easier as you tilt your head up until the point his hand stops nudging you, and instead, he presses his fingers against your throat. It's light enough to feel only slight pressure; it doesn't hurt, but you don't like that feeling. Your thumb brushes over the exterior of the light, smooth against the pads of your fingers and satisfying to touch. You pull away before you can come to your senses and stop yourself, but he lets go the moment your discomfort flares, and you do the closest you can to telling him no.

Your breathing begins to even back out seeing his hands so clearly in the air in front of you, away from you, not touching you. It's silent reassurance that what you just did counts enough as revoking his permission to touch you as anything can.

Dottore doesn't feel like dealing with the fussy child that trying to force it would invoke for a mere favour to the Knave.

Instead, simply asking you like the fully grown child you are seems much more efficient. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, all yes or no," he begins. "They're all simple enough you can answer without speaking."

You interpret the ensuing silence as Dottore waiting, expecting you to nod or shake your head, and you quickly offer a nod in agreement.

"Do you know if you're able to speak?"

You consider his question carefully, unsure of the answer. Your hesitation prompts him to rephrase the question.

"Are you able to make any noises at all?"

You nod. You know the answer to that.

"But not speak in full words?"

Not words. Words don't work. You shake your head.

"Would that be because you're physically unable to?"

You shake your head. You've spoken before, but each time you try, especially here, something robs you of your voice before you get the chance. You know you can talk, just not here like this. 

"If not physical, then there's nothing wrong with you," he concludes. It feels sudden like there should be more, but he stops so quickly. "Nothing that I can fix," he promptly adds. That explains it.

Why not? He doesn't answer, unable to hear the things you don't say. To him, you remain as starkly silent as ever and as difficult to treat as you have been the past few minutes. You suspect he came to some greater conclusion between when you first walked in and now but neglects to share with you what it is.

You must look unsatisfied or just confused as he pauses to stare at you. You look away first, eyes drifting back to the light in your hands.

"Arlecchino only wanted to know if something was physically wrong with you," he says, briefly looking down at the letter as he skims a particular section again. "Your poor sleep may be the result of insomnia, or whatever is causing the mental block that also prevents you from speaking."

Mental block? Nobody ever told you about anything like that. 

You eye him curiously, though you again remain silent, watching him while you think he isn't looking back. It's easy to look at him as long as you don't consciously think of the fact that he's staring at you behind that mask.

Dottore holds his hand out expectantly, a motion of his fingers telling you he wants you to return what you have in your hands to him. You do so, but not without a sadness-driven hesitance to accompany it.

"None of the things you're describing imply a physical problem, but a paranoid 'parent' overattentive to the wrong facets of what could be wrong with an orphan." You don't like the way he says that as if he's speaking ill of Father, but like always, you keep your mouth shut. "If you couldn't speak because of a physical injury, you would have presented with one when you arrived at the House of the Hearth—not now. Trouble sleeping and an elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, intense panic and your tremors are more likely the symptoms of anxiety." 

That's a lot of words, but as he quickly lists every example, you seem to become conscious of it. Mental block, anxiety. Those are the two things you've been told that sound like explanations. You look down as if on instinct, hands held in front of you to investigate his claims that you're shaking. You are. Before your eyes, your hands are trembling, though you can't say why. You look back at him to see if he has anything else to say.

You thought your sleep troubles weren't the same, the result of bad dreams, but supposedly not. Dottore doesn't know anything about that, does he? No, he can't. You never told him, so he can't know. He knows lots of things he shouldn't, like your heart racing when you're scared or how you feel like you can't breathe at times. 

Dottore clicks the light on again, shining it down at your hands resting in your lap. He circles it in place, and your eyes follow. It clicks off again after a few seconds. "Distraction helps anxiety," he says, then sets it down on the desk beside you. "Do you know why you can't sleep?" he asks.

Yes. You nod. Dreams. On nights when they're at their worst, they keep you awake long past bedtime when all others have gone to sleep. By breakfast, you can be so tired and sleep-deprived that dozing off over your food is the only thing you can manage.

You half expect to sit through another round of questioning before Dottore finds the one that clicks the pieces perfectly together in his head, just as he did in the first round.

Instead, Dottore stands, and his hands find your sides to hook you under your arms. Your feet are back on the ground before you can fuss any more about how much you do or do not like it. With you out of his way, he flips the paper Father wrote her request to him on.

"If you know the answer, then you're free to go."

That's it?

You stare up at him for a moment, perplexed by the surprising lack of pain compared to the abundance of fear you felt. It should have hurt, but it didn't, and now you don't know why you were so against coming here in the first place. Dottore spared five or ten minutes of his time, which he already didn't want to give you, and is sending you on your way without injury,

You can't see his face as he's turned away, writing something down that you can't make out. If you took a guess what it is, it's probably about you, just like the first one was. Still, you can tell why Father is so annoyed to receive letters from him. You don't recognise your name when he writes it. You don't recognise anything he writes. His handwriting is awful.

He folds it and slips it back into the envelope it was given to him in. That's not proper etiquette, but something in the way he practically shoves it into your hands tells you that he doesn't particularly care. So long as it gets from him to Father, it doesn't matter how it gets there in his eyes.

"Give that to the Knave." That is his final instruction. You're very used to following those kinds of instructions by now, having heard and executed them many times. They're second nature to your mind.

You nod, pinching it between your fingers to keep the paper from falling out of the open envelope. If Father's was critical, so is this one, and you'll get it back to her quickly—more importantly, safely.

You can't help wondering why it felt so much easier to have someone briefly look at you and ask a few questions. The older children make it sound torturous and barbaric, like being used as a lab rat to spite Father for her refusal with his only opportunity to access the children of the House.

Perhaps seeing a doctor to ease Father's worries isn't as scary as you believed.

[velocesainz]

Can you do a fic where the reader works for Ferrari and has been friends with Charles for a long time, and recently Charles and the reader have a friends with benefits thing going on, but the reader is actually in love with him. Then when Lewis moves to Ferrari, he takes an interest in the reader, the reader decides to give him a shot and stops the situationship with Charles and he realises he doesn't want to let her go.

A/n: This request is literally sooo good also I changed the idea slightly I hope you don't mind, enjoy!

But what about us?

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: reader and Charles are childhood best friends and she works at Ferrari and has an interesting situationship with Charles. When Lewis joins Ferrari he is bewitched by reader and starts developing a strong bond with her but what will happen to Charles and reader?

Warnings: cursing? Mentions of sex, mdni

Pairing: Charles x reader; Lewis x reader

Reader pov:

After another night in with Charles I went back to my apartment to get ready for work.

Me and Charles have been friends from when we were in diapers

A drunken accident a few months ago changed our dynamic turning us into friends with benefits.

It really hurts constantly refer to Charles as my best friend

The truth is I’ve been in love with him for quite a few years at this point but I know he will never see as anything more than his best friend or fuck buddy

I got dressed and headed to the headquarters in Maranello, there was a welcoming meeting for Lewis Hamilton

Lewis was someone who always left me in awe, I admired Lewis so much and to be able to work with him as his race engineer seems like an absolute dream

When I got there the place was already jam packed with people- sponsors, mechanics, managers pretty much the entire Ferrari team was here to welcome him today

“Ah there you are y/n!” I turned around to be met with Fred who was closely followed by Lewis Hamilton himself

“Lewis this is y/n, she will be your race engineer for the coming season. Don’t worry she is one of the absolute best on the entire grid” he said introducing me to Lewis

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet my talented and beautiful race engineer” he said to me adding a wink causing me to blush

THE Lewis Hamilton was flirting with me

Oh god I could pass away right now.

"I'll let you two get acquainted with each other. Y/n make sure he knows all of your weird short signal things" Fred told us and disappeared into the crowd

"Lets go somewhere less crowded." Lewis said to me as he grabbed my hand and led me to an empty room

I felt my heart race as he closed the door and he sat me down in one of the chairs are we started talking

What felt like minutes took hours. We talked and talked about nearly everything, we were in our own world until my phone rang bringing us to the real world.

I looked at the caller id, it was Charles.

I picked up the call and was met with shouting on the other end

"Y/N WHERE ARE YOU? DID YOU LEAVE OR SOMETHING I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK! I COULDN'T FIND YOU ANYWHERE AND NOBODY KNEW WHERE YOU WENT. ARE YOU OK??"

"Charles I'm fine don't worry, I'm in the conference room 002 with Lewis."

"Lewis? Why were guys in a random conference room? There's no meeting today, Fred is here mingling with everyone"

"Cha Fred told us to get familiar with each other and we couldn't really hear anything outside. You can go home if you wish, my car is with me"

Charles didn't reply and just cut the call

Me and Lewis went straight back to talking and soon enough it was time for us to leave. From next week onwards new season prep would be in full swing.

"I had a really great time with you y/n, I was wondering if I could have your number so we can talk over strategies?" Lewis asked me as we both headed out to our cars.

I blushed and typed in my phone number into his phone and we both went our separate ways

Time skip to Bahrain gp:

We were 3 races deep into the new 2025 season and me and Lewis have become closer than ever and we were going over some strategies in his drivers room in peace.

My mind doesn't go over to Charles as much anymore, Lewis's company really makes it hard to focus on anyone else.

"And that's it. What do you think?" I asked Lewis after going over the latest strategy I came up with.

"It looks really good, I think we'll do this one instead of the first one" He told me and I nodded at him and got up to leave the room to get everything ready for today's race.

"Hey y/n/n could I ask you something?" he asked as I was about to open the door

I stopped and turned to look at him and tilted my head in slight confusion but signalled him to continue

"Would you like to go out to dinner after today's race, l-like a date?"

I blushed a deep shade of red but my mind thought about the situation between me and Charles.

It was clear that he didn't like me back and I felt it was about time for me to move on from him

"The race ends at like 1 Lew, you will be too tired. Tell you what, if you place on the podium today I'll go out with you for lunch. Like a date."

I told him and went out the door but put my ear against the door to hear his cute celebration of "Yes, yes, yes! Finallllllyyyyyy!!"

After the race:

I couldn't believe it. Not only had Lewis got onto the podium, he got onto the top step of it.

It was his first race win in 3 years and his first race win with Ferrari and everyone was surrounding him congratulating him on his wonderful performance until he came up to me

"I'll be at your place at 12, dress nicely. Also thank you for you amazing strategies" he gave me a kiss on the cheek and left leaving me speechless and frozen in place

Charles pov:

I saw everybody celebrating Lewis's but I couldn't help but feel left out. I had DNF'd and I had no one to comfort me.

I knew y/n was the only person who could make me feel better in this situation so I head out to find her only to find her talking to Lewis who kissed her and left for the cooldown room.

She was standing there blushing a ferrari red with a stupidly cute grin on her face.

I felt my world crumble further. First my team started caring about my teammate more than me and now my best friend and my long time crush was in love with him and not me.

The only way we had spent time with each other the past few weeks was when my dick was buried deep inside her but I have a feeling that we won't be able to do that much more now.

I walked back to my drivers room and let out all my emotions sobbing into my hands. Y/n had just sent me a text saying we should stop the friends with benefits we had going on.

Why had the world been so cruel to me? The only support I had left was now also gone.

Time skip:

I texted Y/n for the first time in weeks wanting to hear so desperately from her. I needed to tell her how I felt regardless of how her Lewis were doing.

A/n: Hello lovelies! I'm so so so sorry for being so inactive recently. I promise there will be more fics in the near future. As always make sure to let me know your feedback. Also make sure to comment to be part of the taglist! Kissies ✨

Taglist:

@grantaires-waistcoat

@tellybearryyyy

[scintie]

a spark of black

Pairing: Gambit/Remy LeBeau x female reader. Summary: Ever since you appeared at the resistance hideout along with Wade and Logan, tension between you and a certain Cajun card slinger has been steadily growing. One fateful night you finally get the chance to relieve some of it. Tags: smut (male receiving), blowjob, mild dominant undertones. Notes: be gentle, this is the first piece of writing that I've uploaded in yeeeeears. :')

You watched Remy’s mouth move, his lips forming words that you just couldn’t decipher. He was obviously speaking to you, it was just the two of you sat in the main room of the hideout.

Earlier in the evening everyone had been gathered, sharing stories and drinks. The others had all turned in for the night an hour or so ago, leaving you and the Cajun to continue on without them. Wade had made his exit by saying something predictably crude about not being too loud while fucking each others brains out. Remy had waved him off while you did nothing but blush.

The past hour had been torture. Listening to Remy's smooth, deep voice talk about their recent escapades in the Void had driven you crazy with desire. You'd developed a stupid crush on him as soon as you'd arrived. Who wouldn't though right? With his tall, broad stature and handsome face, he'd be hard for anyone to resist. But as the days had passed things went from bad to worse and your stupid crush deepened into a genuine desire.

That's why the blood was thumping so loud in your ears that you couldn’t understand him.

“Wh-what? Sorry, I er, I didn’t quite catch that.” You stammered, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. You dreaded to think how flustered you looked to him right now. Like a deer in the headlights of a truck. A big, sexy truck wearing a brown leather coat.

“Oh, tu es mignon,” Remy chuckled under his breath. He rose from his chair and stepped a little closer, as if the distance between the two of you was the issue. “Remy see da way you been lookin’ at him cher, when ya' think he no be noticin’, ah?”

You were speechless. You didn't know how to react to his bluntness. How were you supposed to react to that?

Remy smirked and closed the gap between you completely and leaned over you, placing his hands on the back of your chair, one either side of your head. He was so close, you could barely breathe.

"You wan' me? All a pretty lil' thing like you would hav' to do is ask, ma douce." He kept his voice low, not wanting to alert the others.

Your mind raced, thoughts bouncing around for what felt like an eternity before at last, you nodded your head. You didn't even realise you were doing it but you weren't about to argue against it either.

"Atta girl, une si bonne fille." Remy praised, standing up straight. His hands went to the fastenings of his pants, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. "Ya trust Remy, don'cha cher?" He asked, slowly pushing his pants and underwear down off of his hips.

Your gaze left his then, moving down his otherwise fully clothed body until you were greeted with the sight of his half hard cock slipping from it's confines. Your eyes went wide. He was certainly much bigger than anyone you'd ever been with before.

You realised Remy was still watching you, slowly stroking himself now, waiting for an answer. You didn't know where to look, it was hard to tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock swelling to it's full, impressive size.

Finally, you found your words, "Y-yeah, I trust you."

"Perfect." Remy smirked and took up his position right in front of you, his hands on the back of the chair again. You gulped, head swimming with anticipation. "Then open up dat pretty mouth for me."

You drew in a long breath before slowly parting your lips, wider and wider until he nodded his approval. Remy seemed to realise that he had forgotten something, taking your hands from your lap and guiding them to his bare thighs. "Da's for yer own peace of mind, don' wan' you thinkin' you gon' fall."

You braced your hands on his muscular legs and soon realised why as he pulled on the back of your chair, slowly tilting you forward. The movement causing your mouth to lower onto his cock. It was definitely a different experience to anything you were used to, he had almost complete control over your movement.

Remy moaned quietly, taking in the tantalisingly debauched sight of your luscious lips wrapped around him. He took in every detail and sensation, observing you as if you were creating a beautiful piece of artwork right in front of him.

You looked up at him with hooded eyes, slowly working your tongue around him with what little space you had left to use.

Remy moaned again, deeper this time before just as slowly tipping the chair back down, his cock sliding almost all of the way out of your mouth.

"Y'okay, cher?" He asked, his chest rising and falling quickly. You could tell he was holding himself back a little, but he needed to make sure you were still on board with this.

You nodded slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his thighs, squeezing the muscles lying taught beneath his smooth skin.

Remy nodded back and steadied his stance. He moved the chair forward and backward again in quicker succession this time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He relaxed when all he saw was lust and wanton desire on your features.

You kept your hands braced on his legs, giving yourself a firm and steady anchor point to rely on. You moaned around his dick as he moved you again, a little deeper this time but still manageable.

He gradually built up a good rhythm. Not fast enough to be overwhelming for you but definitely enough to have him moaning freely, loving the soft warmth of your mouth as he moved you back and forth.

"Dat hot lil' mouth feelin' so good on me, cher." He whispered huskily, just loud enough for you to hear. You still had to be quiet, you couldn't imagine how mortifying it would be if one of the others walked in on you two right now.

Remy's words of encouragement shot a tingle through your body that ended up right between your legs. You pressed your thighs together hard and whimpered, tears prickling your eyes as your arousal started to get the better of you.

Remy noticed the change in your demeanour and slowly lowered the chair completely back down to the floor, his cock slipping free from your mouth for the first time since he'd started. A mixture of saliva and precum followed after him, coating your lips and chin.

You loved how completely blissed out you were feeling, high on the endorphins and serotonin surging through your body. Without really thinking about it you slid from the chair and onto your knees between Remy's feet. You were going on instinct, being driven by the almighty lust that you felt for this man.

"Y'kay down dere, angel?" Remy enquired, cocking an eyebrow and sliding a reassuring hand onto your shoulder as he watched you with intrigue.

You nodded slowly, grazing your teeth over your bottom lip. "Uhuh, just wanna make you come that's all..." Your words came out so soft and breathy that it was his turn to barely hear you, but he soon got the idea when you reached up and started to stroke him back to full hardness.

He moaned just a little louder than he'd liked to, caught a little off guard by the sudden sensation of your soft hands. "Well cher, Remy ain't gon' be arguin' widdat." He chuckled when he'd regained composure, jutting his hips forward for you. As soon as he was rigid again you wasted no time in taking his cock back into your mouth. You set a relatively fast pace, bobbing your head quickly, taking as much as would while working him with your tongue. Your hands went to his hips, pulling him forward and back gently in time with your bobbing. "Merde..." He hissed, looking down at you as he snaked his hand into the hair at the back of your head. "Jus' like dat, belle. Remy be comin' in no time if you be doin' dat..."

Spurred on by his words you forced yourself to take him just a little deeper, feeling him throb against your tongue in response, followed by the salty taste of precum.

You moaned softly as Remy's fingers tightened in your hair, gripping the strands at the very root. His hips stuttered a little, a tell tale sign that he getting close.

One of your hands left his hip and made it's way between his legs to massage his balls, lifting them with your palm and rolling them in their sack slowly.

The sound that came out of the Cajun's mouth was like music to your ears. Along guttural moan peppered with some indistinguishable French curse words. Apparently he didn't seem to care if anyone heard anymore.

A couple more minutes went by of you greedily sucking him and playing with his balls before Remy suddenly pulled back, his cock popping from your mouth wetly.

He wrapped his hand around his dick as he quickly guided you to sit back in the discarded chair from earlier. You complied, scrabbling up onto the wooden seat.

Remy stood over you, straddling your legs a she began jerking himself off quickly. "M' gonna come all over dat pretty face, cher... ya' ready?"

You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks in anticipation. His hand made it's way to the back of your head again, holding you in place as he chased his orgasm.

The visual of such a devastatingly gorgeous man masturbating over you was intoxicating, it made your head spin just watching him. An odd swell of pride hit you as you noticed your saliva still coating his cock as he stroked himself, sliding his length between the makeshift sheath of his palm and thick fingers.

"Beg me, cher. Beg Remy for his cum." He panted.

You could tell he was right there, right on the precipice, he just needed to hear you.

"Please Remy, fuck... please cum all over me..." You whined, your breathing almost as shallow as his by now.

That did the trick. Almost as soon as the last words left passed your lips Remy let out a long, loud moan as his cock started to twitch. He pulled you closer just as thick, white ropes of cum started to shoot from his slit.

You opened your mouth just in time as you felt some of the hot, salty fluid paint your tongue. The rest splashed across your face in haphazard directions, marking you as his. Remy's fist slowed and his breathing steadied as the pleasure subsided. It was at that moment that you locked eyes with him. It was then that he fully saw the mess he'd made of you. The sight of you covered in his seed seemed to stun him for a small moment before his trademark cockiness returned.

"Lookin' good dere, beautiful. Dat look really suit you, ah?" He quipped, winking as he turned to find a washcloth.

You took it from him with a shy smile, your hormone fuelled confidence ebbing away slightly in the aftermath. But you smiled to yourself as you wiped your face clean because you had a feeling that he was right. It did suit you.

[yeyinde]

lavender skies | Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x GN!Reader

Then suddenly, and all at once, there's a loudness in your head: a hundred whispers echoing in time to the same off-beat rhythm, full of memories and moments shared between you, threads woven throughout the years all buoying to the surface as you realise you're a little bit in love with him.  (And that, maybe, you've been a little bit in love with him the whole time.)

tags: friends to lovers (but the type of friends who are basically already dating and everyone knows except them - until suddenly they do), mutual pining. Slight Kent bashing, oops. Golden Girls as a coping mechanism. warnings: none. very tame, considering who I am as a person. Heavy make-out sess, though. word count: 6,6k notes: This has been sitting in my requests forever (I lost the original, but the gist was: Gaz + pining + idiots in love). You can blame a lot of this on summer rain and 80s city pop. Been going to the pier and listening to it while I wrote this. Not my best, sure, but it was fun.

The Tinder date he warned you not to go on (and seriously, mate, who uses Tinder anymore?) ends like this:

Your date, the biggest gentleman in Kent, as proclaimed in his bio (a red flag in hindsight—there's no such thing as a gentleman from Kent), sneaks his number to the waitress, and then leaves you behind in downtown Manchester to go bar hopping with a group he just met. 

It's not a great loss. All things considered, it's not even the worst date you've ever been on. It was just a spur-of-the-moment whim—equal parts anxiety and megrim: the sudden fear of being single forever (and no, despite what Kyle might say, it has nothing to do with the wedding invitation you'd gotten on Facebook, or the three others that came before it)—and therefore, there isn't much to be upset about. Not really. 

But the world doesn't work on half-hearted lies and shaky truths, and on a dank little corner in Manchester, abandoned by your ride home, your abysmal date who barely looked at you, you can't deny that it hurts. That it's a little bit of a hit to your self-esteem in a way that makes you angrier than you were before, because, honestly—he wasn't even a catch to begin with. 

Stupid. 

You should have listened to Kyle, to his immaculate wisdom and emotional maturity far beyond his years, but you hadn't because—

Well. Sometimes the world should work on little lies. If only to the ones you tell yourself. Ones like:

It's completely fine—really it is—if your friend of nearly eight years is moving on with his life. And it's totally, absolutely okay if your best friend meets some flighty barista in Amsterdam and won't stop talking about her for the meagre three weeks he's been back from his impromptu trip to the Netherlands, then to Mexico. It's fine. It's all fine. 

Because maybe you are, too. 

And maybe that's the reason you went out with David from Kent. 

From Kent? He texted, only hours before your date. (Hours because he'd been busy with this thing for his job—his boss is corrupt and the world is, too, but at least Amsterdam Barista is doing fine). You can do so much better than that, birdy.

You wanted to say, what? Like someone from Amsterdam instead? but you're doing this new thing where you try not to sound as mad as you think you are. Zen, maybe. Internal peace and happiness. So, instead, you say:

He's nice. I like him. 

Words that, of course, have come back to bite you. 

He isn't nice. He wouldn't stop staring at the waitress, and talking over you, or just generally ignoring your existence. He left you downtown, stranded without a way home. You don't like him. You really don't even think you were that interested in him. 

But it makes sense.

Kyle is moving on. Your friends are getting married. 

And where does that leave you? 

Well—

It leaves you stuck downtown with shoes that were intended to be used for aesthetics, the kind that means standing entirely still and immobile, and not walking the fifteen kilometres to your flat because you'd spent all your money on this super flattering outfit and these unfunctional shoes, and can't afford a cab or an Uber. 

Sometimes, you pretend you're a functional adult—one who knows how to navigate everything with ease, and you live in the present, the real world, where time is fluid and unchangeable, and things make sense (maths and geometry and physics) unless they don't (black holes and the vastitude of space and fate)—but moments like these remind you that you don't. That you live, instead, somewhere in the parentheses of both. 

The indigo sky, murky black and void of any stars, seems to grumble along with you as you turn toward the street, readying yourself for the long walk home. Except the groan sounds less commiserating and more ominous. A noise that seems to reverberate through the crowded street, and right into your bones.

Some have the wherewithal to find shelter. A smart move because almost a moment later, the heavens split, and a summer deluge drenches the street. It's unrelenting in its downpour, soaking everything in its path in a shrill roar. 

Caught in the middle of St Peter's Square, there are not many places to duck under for sanctuary, but you find an alcove beside a store, and dart toward it. The non-functional boots are pretty to look at, but with each step, you feel the hard synthetic rubber grind against your heel. Blisters form, break. The burn makes you inhale sharply against the pain, hobbling now on tender feet. 

The wall is slick with condensation, but you lean against it to keep your feet from taking the brunt of your weight. 

It reminds you, quite suddenly, of that night in Cardiff with Kyle. When you'd drank three-dollar margaritas at some downtrodden bar with your friends and ate rather limp-looking fish tacos (a mistake, of course, and Kyle still can't look at corn tortillas the same way), and laughed until your belly hurt at something he'd said—the words lost to alcohol and faded with time—and then leaned over, promptly throwing up in a bush. 

You still can't drink tequila without giggling (and gagging) at nothing, a phantom memory, and the thought presses against a tender spot in your chest in all the wrong ways. 

Time is fluid. An unavoidable truism that you can't escape. 

There are people you've known since you were a child whose faces you can barely remember. Ones you promised the world to, to always be together, who you hardly think of anymore. 

Moving on. Moving forward. 

You think, then, of Kyle. Of the distance that lingers between you both, widening each day. It's nothing you've done, nor he; it's just—

Life. Concurrent. Everpresent. 

It hurts to lose a friend, you'd always think. A small moment of grief, of loss. But not like this. Never like this. 

Stuck in a downpour in the middle of Manchester, you realise you miss him. Have been missing him. 

Huddling under an awning, you fish your phone from your soaked pocket, and pull up the only person you want to be around right now, in this moment of vulnerability. Loneliness. 

You send him a quick text, date was a bust. Stuck downtown. Are you busy?

Kyle's reply comes three breaths later. For you? Never. Send me your location. 

You send him your pin. 

Another message pops up: stay put. I'm on my way. 

You met Kyle Garrick at university. 

It's one of those things in life that just sometimes happens. A happy accident. An eventuality that makes the world feel a little less daunting. A lock and key sliding into place. Sunsets in pretty ochre. 

Someone you knew and someone he knew (two people who are now best man and groom in the upcoming wedding) decided to invite all of their friends out for a night, and it was then, slightly tipsy on cheap ale when you realised the boy in the back—a head taller than everyone else and more befitting inside the glossy pages of a magazine—was different, somehow, from anyone else you'd ever met. 

It started when some stupid kids decided to pick on another. A smaller boy with a blue cap. 

Kyle was the only one who noticed. The only one who seemed to care. 

It was his anger that drew you to him in the first place. Moth to a flame. It's quick—the sizzling flame of a lit match: suddenly burning the wick and nearly uncontrollable. But it's short. A flickering star, burning bright, burning hot, and then being tempered and swallowed down until it's smouldering. Still hot, still dangerous, but—

Managed. 

It was a snap. He was laughing, jovial. Telling jokes, and having fun, but still maintaining that enviable enigmatic persona: reserved but kind. Funny, but mature. And then it crumpled in an instant, folded away into anger. Bright and blistering. He walked to them, eyes blazing, and didn't wait for any excuses when the kids noticed him, just quickly decimated their foundations, and crushed their feeble lies between his teeth. 

"Bullyin'? That's a pretty foul thing to do, innit, mate?" 

And that was that. 

He handed the kid back his hat—the one the others knocked off into the gutter—and told him, clipped, that he was better than them. 

Just keep your chin up, yeah? Fuckin' losers, that lot. Don't go messing about with them anymore. Fucking pricks. That's a nice hat, too. Where'd you get it? Really? Oh, that's mint—

It was that moment when, unprompted and unnoticed, he easily slipped away from the group to help some kid he didn't even know that you realised you were very keen to get to know him. 

"Fancy a kebab, hero?" You asked, smirking up at him. 

A grin broke across his face. Sharp, feral. "I could always go to a lamb kebab."

The rest, really, just came quite naturally. Your best friend. The person you go to for anything—even terrible dates that leave you stranded in the rain. 

You just wish you knew when it all began to change, to fall apart. 

Kyle meets you near St Peter's Square. 

You spot him first from your hiding spot beneath the awning, catching sight of his form moving through the (now) empty streets, hands shoved in the pockets of his denim trousers, the bottoms tucked, sensibly, into his fawn-coloured boots. 

Even with the hood of his windbreaker pulled low over his brow, you can pick him out of a crowd with an ease that is as warming as it is jarring. 

You wave him over when he stops on the mouth of Mount Street, looking in toward the Starbucks on the corner. 

He finds you just as easily. And oh, his expression makes your toes curl in your misshapen boots. 

Anger pinches the corner of his mouth, and hangs off the furrow of his brow, the divot between his eyes. 

"Unbelievable," he huffs when he reaches you in the middle of the street, and sucks his teeth when you open your mouth to protest. 

"It is what it is," you offer, playing the peacekeeper. You fall into step with him, trying not to wince. "I'm over it." 

"Yeah?" The shadows across his brow deepen. "Are you sure? 'Cause… I'll fuck him up for you." 

Setting your friend on a man from Kent feels entirely too vindictive, despite how much of a rush you get at the thought of seeing the man cowed a little bit. You shake your head, playing the part of a reasonable adult. 

"It's okay. I'm just—I'm just, over this, yeah? Can we—"

Kyle stops you with his hand against your shoulder. "You alright?"

"My feet hurt," your smile is strained. "Terrible shoes." 

"Take 'em off."

"Are you crazy—?"

"I brought slides for you. Figured you'd wear something stupid." 

"Okay, fair. But—ouch? We can't all be crazy good-looking Armani models. Some of us have to work for it." 

Kyle snorts. "Just take your shoes off, yeah? Throw 'em in my bag."

You can't deny it feels blissful when you lean against the slick wall outside of a shop, toeing off your tight boots. Aching feet freed from their prison. The sigh you let out makes him glance up at you from the pavement, bent over the rucksack he brought. 

There's disapproval in his gaze—maybe at your choice. Choices. The date he warned you about. The boots. The socks he spots are stained with blood on the knob of your foot. 

He tuts. A soft admonishment that cuts through the silence of the empty square. But it's all he says. He swallows the rest and drops the shoes he grabbed on the pavement in front of you, slowly pushing them forward with the tip of his toe.

You try not to grin when you see them.

Crocs. The ugliest ones you could find in Schuh. You'd bullied him into getting a matching pair with you. Neon yellow adorned with little clips. 

You slip them on as Kyle reaches down to grab your boots. He pauses with them in his hand, eying them with something that taints the air with his disdain. 

"When did you buy these?"

"On Friday." When he was sleeping off his impromptu trip to Chicago. He brought you home deep-dish pizza, frozen, and promised that it tasted much better fresh. "For the date."

"Why?" Is all he asks. 

You shrug. "They're cute…?"

His eyes stray to your shoulders. The wet fabric of your shirt. His chin lowers slightly, but his eyes stay fixed on your flesh, on the goosebumps that bubble to the surface, spreading over your exposed skin. Eyes flicker, catching a droplet of water you can feel running down from behind your ear, falling over the slope of your neck. It breaks against your collarbone. He watches it all. 

There's tension in the air. Static. The pressure builds and reeks of ozone when it presses into you, knuckles digging into the hollow of your throat. It renders you unable to speak—locked in a paradigm where the world beyond the honeycomb of his eyes ceases to matter, to exist almost. Thick honey ensnares you. Molasses. It clots against reason, logic, and makes you feel weightless. Floating, unmoored, in this unfamiliar abyss that closes in around you. 

Except—

It isn’t. 

There’s something aberrant about it, anomalous, that you can’t ignore; but beneath it sits a preternatural sense of familiarity that bends the paradox into knowns. Into tangibles. Concretes. 

This is the same tension that has been simmering—festering, almost—since before he joined the miliary. In Cardiff when he leaned against you in the taxi, boney shoulder digging into your arm, and said, ‘dunno what I'd do without you, y’know? 

It was the hazy smear of neon from the shops perched on the street. An ethereal gold hue streamed in from the window, cutting across the tenebrous in an asymmetrical chiaroscuro. The light was soaked up by him. Warm honey, the perfect compliment to his eyes, to the soft pink of his lips. 

How could you possibly describe the feeling that spumes in the pit of your stomach outside of undiluted comfort? 

Home.

It feels like like in shades; muted. A soft undercurrent that lingers inside something else, something deeper—

Moments in the foyer when he was heading back home for the evening. When he’d linger in the doorway, shoulder balanced against the frame, arms folded over his chest, and warned you not to watch Taskmaster without him. 

He’d know, he said. 

When you asked how, he just said:

“Because I know you.”

It feels like that. Like that and something more. Everything, all of it, coalesces into this. Into this moment where you can’t stop staring into the flecks of mahogany and charred birchwood in his eyes, and he can’t seem to decide where to keep his, vacillating between the slope of your neck and matching your stare. A lurch, a flash of something in your chest when your gazes meet. The deep sfumato of a bare forest in the middle of winter—rich browns, raw topaz, honey and amber in a sea of white. A sleepy hinterland. Solemnent and peaceful. Dreamy. Hypnogogic. 

The world always seems to shudder into a deep slumber whenever he’s around. 

He dips closer, swaying into you. Gravity, maybe. Tidally locked satellites on the same rung. Something bubbles in your chest. Unwinds from its dormant perch between the gaps in your ribs, and climbs up your esophagus. Ready, you think, to be free—

In the distance, tyres squeal against the pavement. 

—and all at once, the moment burst, breaks. Shatters into a million pieces, cosmic dust, and you watch them fall around you, blinking rapidly, as though you’ve just woken. 

It feels like slowly coming down to earth when you quietly gather your things, words now stuck in your throat. In their prison. 

Kyle tears his gaze away from your bare skin, clearing his throat. 

"Hardly." He murmurs after a moment and slips his jacket off his shoulders before wrapping it around yours. It smells of rainwater, wet rubber. Beneath the polymer, you can smell Kyle—vetiver, cypress, jasmine; sweet and heady—and you bury your nose in the hood when he turns back to the empty street. “Well, uh—”

You can’t speak. Not yet. 

He seems to understand. 

"Yeah," he nods, and reaches out, tugging on the end of the drawstring. "Let's get out of here." 

The rain lightens into a muted drizzle, soft droplets that fall, almost rhythmless, on the wet pavement. The town sleeps, the streets bare. Empty. The only sounds come from your slick footfalls, a horn in the distance. 

It’s an easy silence that lapses between you—not at all unlike the lulls before, when things were easy and featherlight and endless; when you could talk to him about everything, anything, and all of the worries in your life were saved for something else. Never him. Never, ever him. 

But it tugs at something in your chest. The same pressure blooms at the edges, lingering in the periphery. You think of the spell you fell under—quiet yearning—and shake your head, desperate now to break it. 

It’s just as easy to slip into familiarity. To tease, and taunt. And so, you do. 

"I'm surprised you haven't said I told you so by now. That's so impressive self-restraint."

His gaze slides over to you. "Well, you know, it's implied."

"Oh, is it, now?"

"Yeah, like when you messaged me and told me about it and I said—"

"Who even uses Tinder?"

"—that he's knobhead, and you're gonna get hurt."

You scoff. "He's from Kent, so."

"Even worse," he makes a face, derision contrasted by the jaundiced lamp spilling over the pavement. "A Tinder date with a guy from Kent? What's next? Moving to Bristol?"

"It's a nice area." 

He rolls his eyes. "Sure. As nice as Essex, maybe." 

"The two are not even comparable—"

"'Dunno why you're rushing into anything, anyway,” he angles his chin toward you. “If this is about Carver's wedding, I said I'd go with you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?"

"That's sort of—like, you just have your own thing going on. I don't want to get in the way."

"I've always had my own thing going on. So have you. But that's never stopped us before, has it? What's changed."

"What about—" you swallow down something thick, bitter that wells in the back of your throat. "You know. Amsterdam. The Barista, or whatever."

His brow knots together. "And what about David from Kent?"

You sweep your hands out, motioning morosely toward your Crocs, your damp outfit. "This is what happened with David from Kent. Not exactly the fairytale meet cute you have with Amsterdam—" he makes a noise, like he means to interrupt. You cut him off. Bury it. "And besides, you should take her. I'll just—" 

"I want to go with you."

"Why?"

Kyle falls to a stop near the Kebab shop you usually go to whenever he comes back from his missions, when he's craving good, hearty food that will rot his insides and clog his arteries. A small comfort from before, when everything he has now was just a dream, and you were struggling students in university who could barely afford a meal each and would split a lamb dinner over ale and terrible movies from the noughties back at your flat. 

The suddenness of it all makes you blink beside him, slowly angling your chin up at him. A questioning noise wells in the back of your throat, but when you finally turn your gaze to him, it does out. A snuffed flame. 

He brings his hand up, finger scratching at the soft patch of skin on the bridge of his nose where it starts to arch up. The look on his face, hidden, slightly, by the night blanketing overhead, but just illuminated enough by smears of neon and flushed street lamps for you to see it clove into something slightly flustered, hesitant. Sheepish, almost, like he hadn't meant to say what he did, and now doesn't know how to proceed forward. Cards tucked tight to his chest. Does he play his hand or fold? 

You blink. Then blink again. Struggling, almost, to take in the suddenness of his flustered state. 

Because the thing is:

Kyle doesn't get embarrassed or sheepish. 

A running gag in your mutual friend group is that Kyle is twenty-eight going on sixty-five. An old man crammed inside the body of a young adult. He runs hot—passionate about his beliefs, quick to temper when he thinks an injustice is being doled out; a disciple of loose stoicism, but of a new age variety that is half parts stereotypical stoner chillness and ripe maturity—but he rarely is ever caught unawares enough to become embarrassed by something. He just has a perfect gauge of himself and those around him, able to quickly make friends with anybody he meets, and self-aware enough to know when he's in the wrong, when he needs to dial it back. 

Being his friend for so long, you know the nuance of these expressions. His mien is ingrained in your head: known and catalogued. Nothing about Kyle is a mystery to you except the things you're barred from knowing (his second life away from home, you often joke: wholly confidential, entirety draped in secrecy). 

But the look on his face is entirely alien to you. An expression you hadn't thought him capable of making. 

It's jarring. It bludgeons into you with a ferocity that takes your breath away. 

You know the man standing beside you, but this, everything else, is so unearthly. So foreign. 

"Kyle," you hedge, taking a small step closer to him. You're not sure why. Maybe to reacquaint yourself with the man standing before you. Maybe to find something of familiarity within him to comfort the sudden crescendo of your pounding heart because even just the heady scent of his cologne—vetiver, amber—quells the sudden bloom of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. "Are you—?"

"No," he mumbles, then huffs out a soft laugh. It sounds mean, in a self-deprecating way, and your heart lurches for him. "Yeah, no. I'm alright. I just—shit, you know? 'Course I'd wanna go with you. Should be kinda obvious, no?"

Sure, you want to say. Sure, no, totally. Very obvious. And maybe had he not stopped, not made this peculiar expression on his face—like he isn't sure what to do when he always knows what he wants, what he's meant to do—you might have said them. Might let them tumble from your lips, equally self-deprecating and a touch forlorn despite never really knowing why, but that would be a lie, now. 

Because you do. 

The look on his face is upsetting—not because Kyle never makes that expression, or because he's never uncertain about anything, ever, but because you don't know it. It's not something you've ever seen before. And it hurts. 

It's stupid. This whole thing. It shouldn't make you feel some sense of loss when he does something you don't expect. He always does. It's his brand, now—jettisoning across the world to catch bad guys and slap the trite American sense of justice and liberty for all across the faces of anyone who tries to oppose it—and you're very much acclimated to this side of him, the one he hides away from you, giving nothing at all about where he's going, what he's doing, what he's done, until he's back in England, safe and sound, and texting you at six in the morning for an English spread because he missed home. And maybe, maybe he missed you, too. 

Those quiet moments are tucked into a cosm where it's only you and him, and greasy food, and reruns of Golden Girls together with your feet in his lap as you sit on the chaise and pick favourites (his is, of course, Rose) until the sun goes down, and he heads home because he has a debriefing in the morning in Hereford, and you have work. It's bereft of unease, of tension. Time slips through your fingers fluidly, and you hardly notice it's been hours since he first arrived. Comfortable, wholly, in his presence and in your skin. 

Soulmates, everyone used to joke. You just get each other. Near finish each other's sentences. 

Except for lately, where there has been this undeniable tension simmering between the two of you—a sense of fragility that you can't comprehend.

Growing apart, you thought. And then: guess it's time to do the same. 

It made sense to make the first move. To download Tinder—much to his chagrin—and start looking for your—

Your Barista from Amsterdam. 

And oh. 

Oh. 

Maybe it's the way the street light frames the angles and plains of his face, or the shadows that run deep lines of tenebrous across the valleys in his eyes, the sharp slope of his lips, the soft pout. The inscrutable expression that rents a jagged divot between his brow, and an unsure twist of his mouth. Maybe it's everything. Nothing. 

But the only thing you know right now is that you know him. Have known him. Deeply. Intimately. In a way that goes beyond the boundaries of bodies, of flesh and blood. Bones and marrow. You know his soul. His essence. The foundations of who he is cobbled together in a lonely kebab shop over cheap ale, commiserating on an endless stream of papers and assignments; the eventuality of ever after when you hand in the final one. Over beans and toast in the afternoon, a whole day spent lounging in your flat watching reruns of Golden Girls, and petty arguments over Taskmaster that always seem to go a little bit too far, and never far enough. Fights that end two days later when he shows up with Greggs and a complete box set of that show you said you wanted to watch but never had the time for. Bargain shopping in Tottenham on an early Saturday morning because there's this chair, you see, one that you saw on their Instagram page and you simply must have it. 

Soft moments in between, brackets where life doesn't seem to wrap its cold hands around your throat. Time spent in each other's company just for the sake of it. 

Climbing onto your roof—a thatched mess of moss and straw and broken asphalt shingles that will one day give under your weight—and watching the stars, always searching for one that rockets across the sky while he murmurs beside you, quiet in this stillness that falls like snow in the dead of night around you. A hushed whisper as he relays the places he's been—all stars, he rasps, hand brushing wide strokes across the raspberry sky, dusted with light pollution: I'll take you there one day to see. Best fucking beer I'd ever had, too, just don't tell my cousin because he thinks the shitty lager he makes for his bar is good—and you try to picture it amongst the grey clouds. A life on the opposite side of the world. Just the two of you. Always. 

And that's what it's always been, hasn't it? Just you. Just him. 

It's sometime past midnight on a street corner in Manchester. Your feet hurt from walking all night, and your clothes are damp from the rain that caught you off-guard. A summer downpour. It clings to your skin in a way that's both freeing and wholly uncomfortable, but you're not thinking about that. You're not thinking about anything at all, not now. Not really. There's a silence in your head as the world falls into pieces, breaking like the jaundiced light that cuts crevasses and canyons in the tenebrous that colours sharp valleys of his face. He turns, then, a gentle list of his head as he takes you in, breathes your silence and questions the wideness of your eyes, the soft parting of your lips. The movement makes the light spill over the arch of his nose, the slope of his brow. The dawning of a new day. A new world. The untouchable of the moon where no light shines now burning hot under the sun. 

Then suddenly, and all at once, there's a loudness in your head: a hundred whispers echoing in time to the same off-beat rhythm, full of memories and moments shared between you, threads woven throughout the years all buoying to the surface as you realise you're a little bit in love with him. 

(And maybe you've been a little bit in love with him the whole time.)

So, you say it. You whisper all the words that bubble up, impatiently waiting between your teeth, effervescent and burning white-hot as they throw themselves over bone and flesh to be free. 

Confessing goes like this: 

Molten agony in your guts as the secrets you barely understand yourself dissolve into the atmosphere, spoken aloud and born on cobblestone and petrichor. Wide-eyed shock, uncertainty, as a new quiet falls over your shoulders, louder than anything you'd ever heard. Guncotton in your nose. A million detonations in your ears. 

You've never much liked the silence. You break it, then, with your bare hands. 

"...and that's basically it." 

It isn't much. It isn't poetry. You're not even sure the words were real. A figment of your imagination, broken free because of baristas in Amsterdam and losers from Kent, abysmal dates and the unending fear of being wholly alone in a world you're not prepared for, all without the person who makes you feel a little bit better about the nothingness that permeates around you. 

And sure. Sure. You don't need him. If Kyle decided never to speak to you again, you'd cry and you'd hurt, but you wouldn't be less of a person because of his absence. He doesn't complete you in the same way you've read about in thick books with strong-willed protagonists and an abundance of petty misunderstandings, but he compliments you. Elevates the good and stifles the bad. You want to experience things with him—not because there's some grand force at play, red strings knotted around your fingers that lead you back to him—but because you like his company. His thoughts. His mind. His presence. His essence fills you with joy in the same strokes it makes you want to pull your hair out sometimes. Good and bad. You want it all. 

You want it. Want him. 

And he—

He's taking you home a little past midnight where you'll make yourself beans and toast and maybe try and sleep, or turn on the television to watch four women you're intricately connected to eat cheesecake and solve each other's problems. He could be at his own flat right now, playing that video game he said he wanted to try when he got back, or watching that movie he was supposed to with his flatmates, his friends. He could be talking to some barista in Amsterdam. 

But he isn't. 

He's here with you. Still. Still. 

"I just—," you say, or try to. 

But the rest is a muffled gasp against soft lips when he presses his against yours, stealing the words out of your mouth. 

You can feel your heart beating through your lips. Taste him on your tongue when he draws you closer, hands reaching, grasping. Pulling you into him, into his body. You fit against him, tucked safe between the parentheses of his arms. He tastes of cardamom and cornflower. Lavender notes between his molars. Hints of milk on his tongue. You drink him down and know, then, that this is what they mean they talk about love being a feast because you chase this taste for the rest of your life and never be satiated. 

He loops his arm around the small of your back, dragging you closer still. As if any atom between your bodies is an affront. There’s no hesitation in the action, in the way he burrows into your skin. No trepidation. 

And maybe it would be silly for there to be any. You know him—every iota, every inch; secrets whispered at midnight in a shallow breath and dreams uttered at noon. To be known, to know, is a powerful thing. You feel it ghost across your flesh, featherlight, and reach for it with your bare hands. Seeking, searching. You don’t stop until the tips of your fingers meet his warm skin, curling around him. Anchoring yourself to him. Stuck, now, in permanence. 

You find spots that were untouched before. Behind his ears, the dip of his brow, the curve of his nose, and the slope of his jaw. Cupping it in the palm of your hand, a plinth for him to rest his chin. 

Your canvassing makes him groan, makes him tilt down into you as he begins his own exploration, chasing you in a mad pursuit. Sliding over your valleys, your plains. Running over the rugged mountains and the steep cliffs. He scours your topography with eager, nimble fingers. It’s slow, languid. There’s no rush with this, a consensus you both seem to come to rather quickly when he pries open your mouth and tangles his tongue with yours. It’s sweet, soft. His hands mimic his chase, sliding along your body as if he means to commit the entirety of you to memory, searing it in his brain. 

It’s only when he comes to a crossroads at your navel, pushed flush against his body, does he stop. You moan in despair at it, wanting more and more, not ready to give up this taste that curls over your tongue—saccharine sweet, salty—and Kyle echoes the noise with a groan, a quiet plea for air that both of you desperately need but can’t quite make yourself take. 

“Fuck—” he groans again, breath stuttering out in sharp, deep gasps. “Can’t bloody tell you how long I wanted to do this for, fuck—”

His words seem to peel back the dreamy gossamer of a slowly burning sensuality. It ignites in a blaze, not at all unlike the swiftness of his anger. The sharp, sudden strike of a match. The crackle and hiss of flames renting the air. 

The blaze starts at the point where your upper lip touches his, and almost immediately, it consumes you. 

It's frenzied when he kisses you again—feral and wild: all teeth and tongue and nips against your bottom lip but the moment you sink into the fervour, Kyle changes it. Slows down. Chaste pecks to your sore lips amid a sensual onslaught. A languid roll of his tongue, soothing the burn his teeth left behind. 

The way he kisses you feels like a paradox. 

It's organised chaos. Refined madness. A cluttered mess of finesse and deliberate suckles; an artist's masterstroke. 

You can't keep up. His rhythm is fierce and uncatchable. 

Each step seems to stutter. An avartan you can’t keep pace with. Elongated taals, dips. A crescendo of harmony that is matchless, unreproducible. You struggle along with his swift current, his unerring tide that sweeps you away; unmoored, adrift. The tentative exploration ends. He knows you, now. All of you. And this is his summit. His scramble to the top. It’s biting passion; roaring flames. 

You cling to him, holding tight to the liferaft he offers in a slow huff, a gust of mirth across your lips and into your lungs, slowing down to accommodate you. Malleable, now, he lets you lead, lets you take over, and move seamlessly with him. In tandem, parallel. Equilibrium brings you to heel, and you sigh into his mouth—a deep exhale of everything that has been building and building, tipping the scales around you until it was unbalanced and precarious. Teetering on the edge a precipice unknown. 

His hand roams across your known geography—hills and streams, rivers and canyons—until he reaches your hand still bracketed around his cheeks, slowly peeling it away from his flesh to slide his fingers between yours, holding tight, and—

Kissing is immaculate. Bending at an altar, and making an offering to something bigger than yourself. It’s the spark of lightning flashing overhead, static in the air. Magnets drawing closer and closer until they snap together in the middle.

But holding his hand?

It feels like coming home. 

The world tipping back into place. Amber warmth in your veins; the softness of a jasmine petal. You suck in a deep breath at the shock of it all. 

You think of missing puzzles and loose sea ice drifting alone in the vastitude of the ocean. You think of a life where he isn’t in it and find yourself shuddering at the wrongness that emanates from it. 

You want him. Want him—

It’s Kyle who pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours. You blink slowly, eyes catching dark amber, honeycomb. It draws a smile from you, full and deep. Giddy on the taste of him, of this. 

The only thought in your head is finally, finally.

You see his lips curl in response, eyes lidded and heavy. Blooming with want, affection. Adoration. 

"What, ah—," he laughs a little, then, breathless and happy, and the noise anchors itself to your breastbone, pressing into the hollow of your ribs. A place you'll keep it forever. "What now?"

He hands you the starless sky, and places it into the cup of your palm. Breathes laughter in the air, paints the moon with his joy. You think about the places he wants to take you, and the ones he swears you'll never go. You think about aeons from now when the world is gone and the stars all die out, when there's just the hazy lavender of endless abyss you can't make sense of. You think of him, and you think of you, and you wonder when it started to just make sense for there to always be two. 

Maybe that night in Cardiff when he held your shoes and gave you his coat. When he draped his arm around your shoulders, laughing at something stupid you'd said. A year before he joined this task force he makes cheeky remarks about but never goes too deeply into detail. When it was just endless summers spent working and drinking and eating good food. 

He'd asked the same thing, then, half slumped over in the taxi, and three sheets to the wind. It made his eyes darken, endless pits. Black holes. The expanse of the sky is framed by brown lashes, and drooping lids.

And you'd said—

"Beans and toast?" It feels right. It feels good. "We can—"

He huffed, too, just like he does now, and squeezes your hand once, tugging you along. 

"We're not watching Golden Girls."

You watch Golden Girls. Kyle wraps his arm around your neck, keeps you tucked in close to his side. He steals kisses from you when Sophia says something that makes you laugh until you're breathless and trembling. 

When David from Kent texts you, he grins wide, and whispers in your ear, think I've always been a little bit in love with you, you know? 

Yeah, you say, and kiss back until the taste of him is etched into the space between your teeth. Since Cardiff. For you?

"Since Uni for sure." He smiles again, sheepish and a touch flustered. It glitters on his brow and nips the apples of his cheeks. "You stole my heart when you devoured four lamb kebabs and then ate my tabbouleh. Said to myself, yeah, that's the one for me, innit?"

"On second thought, what's that Barista's number? Might try my luck instead."

"Nah, you're smitten," he presses his lips into the hollow of your throat, nips his teeth against your pulse point. "And you're all mine. No take backs."

"Ah, for fuck's sake—"

Ahhhhhhhh. Sappy romcoms are my kryptonite and it shows.

COD MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Slasher!Soap x Suicidal!Reader

For some reason he's back and acting sweeter than ever. You don't know what to make of it. Maybe this time you could convince him to finish what he started.

Slasher Masterlist

Warning: MDNI dark themes, dead dove, suicidal ideation, pred/prey dynamic, mention of murder and attempted murder, horny thoughts, dub-con behaviour, crude and objectifying language, harassment and torture, manipulation, lying, non-con elements, mention of fingering and giving head, fear mongering, roughhousing, taunting and baiting, threats of violence, threats of sexual violence, sorry if I missed any.

“Oh…” you halt your steps.

“What's wrong Dove?”

“You're trying to fix me,” the realisation suddenly hits you as the man holding your hand halts abruptly at your jarring words.

“What Dove?” Soap lets go of your hand so he can turn and face you fully. His glacier eyes pierce into your inquisitive ones but remain uncomfortably neutral. You could no longer see the crinkle of laughter in his eyes.

“You're trying to fix me,” you reiterate as you look at him incredulously. “You're trying to make me happy so you'd get a kick out of killing someone who wants to live.” You say it almost to yourself rather than at him.

Everything made sense now. You were so confused as to why he had showed up again. Or why he was in your apartment taking care of you while you studied for your last exam. Or why he was fussing so much about the food you were eating. You weren't going to lie being taken care of felt good but it felt disingenuous coming from him. Especially when you knew all about heinous acts he had committed. You wonder why you brushed past that so easily. He was too deceptive for his own good. It was easy to get lost in conversations when talking to him.

After the last incident you didn't think he'd want to come back to finish the job. Especially not when you had seen that expression on his face. Looking at him now you see his smile turn into a cold one as he picks at the cotton candy he bought you. You get a flash of his unnaturally sharp canines as the sugary goodness melts on his tongue. The same tongue that was lapping at your folds just a couple hours ago.

“Well there's no fun in killing the dead hen. Ah’ve told ye that already,” He circles you like a predator in the almost empty parking lot of this carnival. It was late and the rides were closed up and the remaining people were leaving in droves. It wasn't long until it was only the two of you left. Seeing no reason to put a front up anymore you also let your mask slip. Soap watches your lips turn down into a frown as your eyes take on the same dead expression you had when he had his hands first wrapped around your throat.

“I'm afraid you're wasting your time if you think you of all people could ‘fix’ me. I've long given up on getting better and you should too…” There's an awkward silence that follows your statement. Neither of you knowing what to say next.

“But if you want me to act the part of an unwilling participant in this game of yours I'll happily oblige.” You try not to come across as overly desperate, you know it would take the fun out of it for him. Soap pretends to contemplate your words as he finishes the last of your cotton candy while licking his fingers clean. Like a pervert he puts on a show for you. Much like when he had made you pass out from orgasms on the night he returned. Maybe if you hadn't refused to sleep he wouldn't have fingered you so hard that day. But it was no use dwelling on that right now. He does whatever he wants; it's not like you have much power to stop him.

“Ah don't appreciate being told what to do nor do ah appreciate being given a mercy kill to soothe my hunger. We do this on my terms or we don't do it at all…” Soap cocks his head to the side as he puts on his charming smile. The very same one that all of his previous victims likely succumbed to. Everyone except you it seems.

“And besides ah haven't met a single person who hasn't fallen for my charms and looks, ye just need to give it time.” You lose the softness in your voice as you go to speak again, your desperation bleeding through your frustration.

“Oh your upset you got played…” you watch his expression harden at your words but his condescending smile returns not a second later. Though he doesn't say anything. He probably knew you were baiting him to get a reaction. You press on though not willing to back down so easily.

“What? Can't get the job done just because things didn't go your way? How childish..and here I thought you were such a renowned killer with all the deaths you bragged about…maybe I thought too highly of you…” Soaps smile slips as your words cut into his ego, his eyes narrowed in like a snake getting ready to strike.

Good, your tactics were working. You continue trying to rile him up in hopes of getting what you want today.

“Why don't we go our separate ways? You go find your perfect victim and I'll go find someone who can keep their word.” You don't bother waiting for an answer as you begin to walk away from him. If he wanted to play cat and mouse you could play cat and mouse.

Maybe you were playing a bit too well for Soaps liking though. You don't see that he had balled his fists until you turn to put the final nail in the coffin. “If you have any killer friends send them my way, maybe then I could experience what true terror is like.”

Something snaps in Soap's mind because the second you try to leave again he has your arms pinned behind your back and face pushed against his car door. He sees you trying to suppress a smile and it pisses him off even more. Just the thought of his brothers in arms having a go at you had his blood boiling. You were his kill not theirs. His prey, his toy, his to do whatever he pleased with. He needed to drill the sentiment into your mind.

If you were trying to piss him off you definitely succeeded in doing so. But he wasn't going to give in to your whims so easily. If you wanted to die so badly you were going to have to work for it. He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of winning. Definitely not at his own game.

“Ye think you're so smart do ye? Ye think getting me mad is enough for me to slit your throat? Think again, Dove. Ye aren't escaping me so easily. Ye want tae play? Fine, let's play.” Soap twists your arms to the point where you think he was really going to break it just to get his point across. You bite back a yelp just to anger him more. But your body involuntarily shivers from the pain shooting up your arms. Just as quickly as it started it ends with him pushing you in the direction of the forest. Turning around to face him you watch as he crouches down to remove a blade from where it was tucked into his sock.

“This is what ye wanted, Dove? Ye wanted tae be chased down like the pathetic whore ye are?” You watch him twirl the large knife in his hands as he stands watching you underneath the street light. The shadows the light casts obscure his face making his expressions unreadable. He looks like the devil incarnate. A monster ready to mutilate you. It's strange because before you weren't so afraid but with the way the situation was unfolding your body was getting you ready to run. A built in mechanism for survival. One you wish you could override.

“Ye think ye can put up an act as believable as a real thing? Ye think you can produce the same thrill for me with yer fake screams? Fine then. Run. Run like ye fucking mean it. Because one of two things is about tae happen tae ye.”

“Either one, ye make it believable enough that Ah decide tae kill you. Or two, Ah take ye on the forest floor and fuck every single one of your slutty little holes for wasting. my. fucking. time.” The malice in his voice alone has your nerves buzzing with anxiety. Fear and possibly something else pools in the pit of your stomach. Your body screams at you to run, to get away, to find safety, to hide before he rips you apart with his teeth. The other half tells you it wants to get caught…That it wants him.

Your brain screams at you as his low hum of laughter erupts at your perplexed expression. It screams at you telling you he's going to tear your flesh from your bones for everyone to see. Despite wanting to die, your brain and body work against you. Run. Hairs stand on the back of your neck as you take a shaky step back. Run. You watch him change his stance getting ready for the chase. Run! “Ye're going tae wish Ah never found ye Dove”

“Run.” He whispers, and you do, you bolt….

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[jflemings]

— warmth

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: it’s still chilly in portland, but jessie’s always warm

warnings: none!!

a/n: inspired by the fact that it’s cold AS FUCK rn. this shit was meant to be a cute lil thing but noooooooo i had to go and try to outdo myself like ???? stupid ass

you were forced to leave jessie lonely in bed this morning after you snoozed your alarm for the third time. you’d reluctantly pulled yourself out of jessie’s hold and slithered out from underneath the covers to get ready for work, looking back at your girlfriend who couldn’t decide if she wanted to take advantage of the extra hour and a half she had to sleep or if she wanted to see you off to work.

she decided on both: laying around in bed whilst shamelessly ogling you as you got dressed. she had looked so sleepy, so cute, that all you wanted to do was crawl back under the covers and cuddle up to her again. you were left moping around as you put on your work clothes, grimacing once you took one look outside.

“it’s raining” you had said flatly “i can’t believe it’s raining”

“it’s fine” jessie said sleepily “just don’t get wet”

you knew by the way the end of her sentence slurred that she was well on her way back to sleep’s embrace, and there was no way you could be mad about it. between the nwsl preseason, international break, and olympics prep, it was safe to say that jessie was due for a well-earned lie in.

you made yourself a coffee to go, brushed your teeth and slipped on your shoes before going back into your bedroom to bid your canadian goodbye. she had grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you in a way that left you dizzy, before turning around and snuggling further into your pillow.

your day from there couldn’t have been described with any word other than dull. it was full of revisiting work that you had already done and taking phone calls that ended up being long-winded and drawn out — ones that could’ve just been an email had your clients had the forethought to do it.

a chill trails it’s way up your spine, the icy fingertip’s of portland’s cold air pushing themselves into every minute crack and cranny they can get through. all it does is make you want to do is crawl into bed with your human heater of a girlfriend and lay there until you physically cannot anymore. when you look at the watch on your wrist you have to resist the urge to run out of the building. instead, you pack your bag hastily and ignore the shrill call of your coworker chris begging to get drinks with everyone from across the room.

you double check — triple check, because that’s a habit you picked up from jessie — that you’ve got everything you need before speed walking to the elevator. you bounce on your toes impatiently and shoulder your way into the (thankfully) empty elevator, hitting the button for the parking garage numerous times before willing the doors to close quicker to avoid awkward small talk with max, a guy that you’re certain doesn’t realise you’re a lesbain despite the photos of jessie plastered all over your office.

you see his unruly blonde hair pass you as the doors close and let out a breath before watching the floor numbers go down. the concrete cold air of the parking garage makes you shiver again when the doors open, making you curse yourself under your breath for not just bringing the extra jacket like the little voice in your head told you to. you tell the little voice to shut up before you get to your car and crank the heat, hastily pulling out of your designated parking spot and almost speeding out onto the main road.

three red lights, someone who doesn’t know how to use their indicator, and a frustratingly slow start to the afternoon rush hour later you’re pulling up to your apartment building. the rain has let up long enough for you to from work to home, but as soon as you step through the threshold of your new home, it’s pelts again.

it hammers against the windows and you slump against the door. you were cold, tired, and in desperate need of jessie cuddles, something that you were keen to seek out once you heard the tv in your bedroom going.

you pad down the hall and see her exactly where you left her: snuggled up in bed, head laying on your pillow and hair thrown about like she’d been trying to get comfortable. she pulls her attention away from the tv and immediately opens the covers up for you, only to frown when you don’t immediately jump into her arms.

“what are you doing?” she asks as you toe off your shoes and begin to unbutton your trousers.

“i’m getting out of these clothes” you say not looking at her “i’ve been in them all day and i can’t be in them for a second longer” you stress, throwing your socks, trousers and shirt into the hamper.

jessie frowns as she watches you grab out an oversized chelsea hoodie and an old pair of pyjama pants she’s tried to get you to throw out multiple times. you also grab a pair of fluffy bed socks — the ones she got you this past christmas after you’d stolen hers when you went to canada — and flip the bed covers up at the bottom.

she watches you crawl up her body under the covers, flinching slightly when your cold fingers graze the exposed skin of her hips. you settle on-top of her, your legs straddling her hips as your head lays firmly on her chest.

one of her hands is instantly in your hair, massaging your scalp slightly as you settle all of your weight on top of her.

“bad day?” she asks quietly.

you nod against her “too cold. needed jessie time all day”

a laugh vibrates through her chest as her heart skips slightly at the sound of you saying you needed her. you love hearing her heart do that, it makes her all the more real when she feels like a dream.

“you can have jessie time whenever you want” she says as she wraps her arms securely around you.

you slide off her front and mould yourself against her side, one leg thrown over her own as your head finds it’s spot in the crook of her neck. jessie pulls one of your arms around her middle before wrapping her own around your back, pushing you slightly onto her.

you hum in her neck and breathe in deep before placing small kisses along the side of her neck. the midfielder can’t help but giggle at the ticklish contact, squishing her cheek against you “stop” she whines whilst pulling you further into her.

you relent and bury your face further into her neck “can we order in” you mumble into her warm skin “too cold to move, need to stay on top of you”

jessie scratches your scalp with her blunt nails whilst also running a hand up and down your thigh idly “thai sound good?”

“thai sounds amazing”

[ryansosilly]

"Daddy energy Dom Ghost"? Never heard of her! Ahahahahhahahsplsstopmischaracterisinghimhahahah

Fic idea? yeah sure is one! You got a 'love confession' from THE Ghost Riley. And since he is incapable of regulating his emotions and dealing with what he feels in a healthy way..he is just... A chaotic awkward mess. Don't blame him! All he knows is pew pew and crying himself to sleep every night!!! He didn't get training for that?!!!!

Also, I'll refrain from using y/n since apparently people dislike it? Idc personally but for this specific fic, you're referred to as "you" or "[redacted]" in place of your name

Ghost was actually just as close to breaking down as he was earlier. And yesterday. And the day before that.. Well.. It would be a great fucking underestimation to even attempt to say that the way he felt has not had a 'little' punch on his psyche. Every single time he got even a single glance at you he already felt like he was in the middle of a war, his heart racing beyond any means for him to slow it other than measures he knew very well he shouldn't take. Ghost felt so sick just by thinking about very possibly confessing or even asking You for help with the way he feels that it ruined his appetite which ended up bringing your attention to him.

You were making Ghost truly lose every ounce of sanity he had left just by existing and it really pissed him off. Pissed him of a LOT. He couldn't stand for it anymore. So, after months of struggling against his pride and ego, Ghost decided it was time to confess. Or perhaps just confront you for making him feel like that. A fucking Rookie like you had absolutely no god damn right to make him feel like that?? Who did YOU think YOU are??

After a couple hours..(which were meant to be only couple minutes) of punching a punching bag while fighting against his inner turmoil and fears of love that he has yet to even realise, he finally felt hyped and confident in himself just enough to go talk with you and ask you very politely to come with him to a secluded place for a discussion.

The very moment he stepped out the training room he had secured only for himself, his face started to feel hot and hands get shaky. Perhaps not today. He immediately stepped back inside the 'gym' and continued to train to bring himself to it. Unfortunately, by that point, his comrades were getting way beyond sick of Ghost's bullshit. Everyone BUT You and Ghost himself knew. (Even though both of those could be argued..)

They didn't even bother checking on Ghost at that point, knowing how defensive he got when you were ever brought up in a conversation.

"I fucking hate youuuuuuuu, [Redacted], this is ALL your fault!"

Ghost groaned from under a pole, doing pull ups until he could not anymore. It was his way of 'relaxation'.. albeit not very effective. Groaning and cursing your name just to shut himself up at some points, his tongue lingering on the beautiful way their name sounded coming from his mouth, leading to him ending up sounding exactly like a broken record. His sentences being cut short from "curse you, [Redacted]...[Redacted]...." Between shallow shaky breaths.

...Yeah that shit was NOT cutting it.

He couldn't fucking handle it anymore. His arms were already aching and he didn't even feel remotely prepared for asking you out. What could he possibly fuck up anyway? It's just a Rookie either way... Right? He got off the damned sweaty pole and immediately went towards the door, steps heavier than even his breathing. That mask could hide only so much from his sheer embarrassment and hatred for this entire situation. He just decided to say 'fuck it' and go do it directly.

"Come on, Simon. You can do it.. you are THE Ghost. A rookie can't fucking make you act like this, you won't stand for it!"

Ghost muttered to himself, grumbling and growling with really severe irritation in his voice, yet, keeping it quiet. If anyone even heard, he was sure that he will be fucked up for eternity. Of course, Ghost was really fucking blind to the fact that everyone knew. Every single person could see right through the act and tell that Ghost was very much into the 'stupid rookie' [Redacted]..

With a raspy voice, body pumping adrenaline straight through his blood and all around, going to his brain and clouding his sense of judgement. He blindly walked past so many people, instantly letting them know exactly what was going to happen.*

"Holy shit?? Why is Ghost so..? Pumped up??" Soap whispered, mouth agape as Ghost rushed through the corridors, going towards the 'Little stupid rookie's hideout' as he would call it.. Soap had almost instantly found out Ghost when he was following around the new recruit like a lost puppy kicked out in the rain, even finding out your places to hang out after duty. Of course, Ghost never even said a single word to you directly..

Meanwhile Soap was planning a perfect gossip plan, Ghost was getting more confident with every step until he reached his destination. Staring at the door that he just wanted to kick open or just punch through with bare fists. That damned fucking door.

"...."

The very same second he grabbed the handle, he started cursing under his breath, the mask making the cursed even more muffled. He was right there, Ghost, just do it!! You can't fuck it up, it's just a god damn talk with a rookie you've done a thousand times before!!

Ghost's breathing was getting more laboured and heavy to the point that it was...very clear that there was someone in front of your door. So you did the so-nice-thing of opening the door for him.

"..."

"..."

Ghost just stared and stared and stared...and stared, one eye starting to twitch. The silence was so fucking loud and neither you or him was breaking it. After maybe 10 full minutes of pitch silence and him being completely still just staring directly into your eyes, he found the ego within him to clear his throat and cross his arms, lifting his chin up and shutting his eyes to show his normal 'Big boss' attitude.

"You little fucking twat. I hate you, I hope you know that. So, come the fuck outside and I'm going to confess to you without you rejecting me. Got it?"

..yeah maybe the ego was a bit too much. It took another couple seconds, maybe even minutes (he couldn't tell) until he actually understood what the fuck he had just said.

"Bloody hell.....no, that's not fucking happenin-.."

Before his brain could even comprehend what happened, panic overtook him the exact moment you opened your mouth to speak. Annnnndd...BOOM. Ghost punched you directly in the face.

What the absolute fucking bloody hell??? In the name of the queen and king what did you just do, Simon??????

Without thinking twice, he managed to get his courage and immediately ran away, going into the shadows to just even attempt to understand what went that wrong? How could something as simple go THAT south??? His brain was flooding with questions that no amount of working out could clear.

So of course, he did exactly what a responsible adult would do. He fucking ignored everything and acted like nothing happened. Just staring at you from afar for the next MONTHS until YOU had the courage to come talk to HIM about it. Of course, knowing the reputation that Ghost had, there was no way a rookie would come confront him about it, right? Yeah, he was definitely fucking safe.

A small smirk appeared under his balaclava as he took a deep breath of relief, leaning against a wall outside. Definitely saved that one, didn't he? He was very convinced that he...somewhat.. got away with the 'accident '.

Oh, Simon.. that proud smile fell and slipped right off that smug face when a very...particular rookie, You, just walked right up to him.

".... You're taking the piss..."

*The amount of cold blood now circulating through his body can make a psychopath shiver. Slowly looking down at you then immediately looking away. Just the IDEA of facing you made him want to break down.*

"so.."

*you started to speak but were cut off almost instantly, he turned around and grabbed you be the shoulders.*

"have you told ANYONE about what happened?"

*He spoke very lowly but the aggression he forced into his voice to try and scare you was prominent. Of Course..it wasn't very effective when everyone and their grandma knew he wouldn't lay a finger on you... Except that one time...and that other- Nevermind. He would never do it on purpose or with ill intends.*

*Once he saw you nod, it was not even necessary to let you speak..or even let you open your mouth. Upon your attempt to speak, he put his hand right over your mouth, his eyes locked into yours. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his expression mostly unreadable.*

"I think I'm into you. No jokes, no pranks. So, reject me if you will and we'll go right back to our routine exercise, alright?"

*due to the copious amount of shame he felt, he was so distracted that..he did not even realise he was still covering your mouth. A thousand thoughts went through his head and not a single one was particularly..good. Luckily for the poor man, you reminded him to let go by tapping his hand.*

"..my bad."

*He ...apologised? Well he thinks he did but it just came off as kind of rude with his tone of voice. He took a big step back and straightened himself as if Price himself stood in front of him. Fuck it, not even Price can get him to look that stiff and..well.. uncomfortably awkward. It was even surprising to the passing by soldiers how the fuck he was this stiff that from now on, there'll be some rumours about you being some sort of a monster capable of even putting the Lieutenant down. Isn't that neat?*

"I do like you back. I wasn't going to reject you today or that day, you just ran away too quickly and.. knocked me out."

*The silence was even more deafening now, you prepared yourself for the slight possibility of another punch by reflex coming but this time, it didn't come. Ghost was lost in thought that even his quick battle thinking couldn't help him with navigating. Just..frozen there.*

"Really?"

*His words broke the silence. It didn't sound demanding or aggressive but like a genuine confused question. Almost baffled that you could ever feel the same for him.*

"..Yes?"

*You returned the word with a just as confused reply, speaking it as a question, accompanied by a nod. You attempted to cut down the distance by taking a step closer to him while he was still distracted and frozen.*

"Cool that's cool. So.. I'm asking you out. "

"Date?"

"..Maybe? Do you want to date me?"

"Yes.."

*Every single little Simon in his head was screaming right now, basically speaking and acting on autopilot. That was both a good and a bad thing..*

"Good. I'm coming for you tonight, prepare."

*Then he??... Put his hand to dab you up, fist bump and hurriedly walk away without waiting for an answer.. Even he doesn't know where that came from. He doesn't 'dab up' ANYONE, let alone someone he is interested in romantically.. Truly a confused mess of a person. Trust me, you do NOT see him for the rest of the day all the way up to the time he stalk waits for you at your front door during the unspecified time. Just showing up anytime he feels like it and taking you for a date will surely become a tradition.

[lucy90712]

Pedri angst leading up to asking gf to marry him

Work has been stressful recently but so have things at home. Life with Pedri has been so good he treats me like a queen and we are really happy together or at least I thought we were. For the past month or so he's been acting really weird sometimes he hides his phone from me and other times I've caught him quickly hiding things from me in his bedside table and then he acts like nothing is wrong. To start with I didn't think much of it but because it's persisted I've started to worry about it. Everyone I've told about the situation doesn't seem worried about it which is making me feel crazy they keep saying that there must be a reason as Pedri would never hurt me intentionally. Even my dad didn't immediately jump to all the bad things Pedri could be hiding he told me that everything would be fine which is so unlike him he always jumps to the worst case scenario then works backwards to the more realistic option. 

I've been trying so hard to just forget about it but it's not that easy when your boyfriend is clearly hiding something from you it's hard not to believe the worst even if I didn't think he'd cheat on me that's the first thing that enters my brain. However we are going on holiday together today which I have been a bit hesitant about with everything that's been going on but Pedri seems to be looking forward to it so maybe things will be better once we are away. He booked this holiday months and months ago as he wanted us to go to somewhere we can relax with not many people around which at the time sounded nice but now it worries me a little. 

Even though Pedri has been acting weirdly I'm hoping this holiday is what he needs as maybe he's just been stressed and some time away from everything will change the way he's been acting. Our flight was quite early so there would be less people in the airport so when my alarm went off I rolled out of bed still very sleepy while Pedri still looked stressed as he put things in his carry on bag and I almost wanted to go back to bed and not go to the airport as I can't deal with stressed Pedri alone for a week. He calmed down a bit once we had both finished packing and was actually quite affectionate he held my hand in the taxi and the entire way through the airport and he kept giving me kisses as we waited to board. It was so nice to have my boyfriend back I didn't realise how much I missed all of this affection from him until he was cuddling me and I nearly forgot about everything that's been going on for the past month. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The affection Pedri showed me in the airport didn't last too long once we arrived we unpacked and then just sat outside by the pool in the house we are staying at. I sat with a book which I got so engrossed with that I didn't realise Pedri had left but he left me a message saying he would be back in a few hours. I expected him to go and get some food for us but he came back empty handed. He's has done the same thing a few more times in the few days we have been here and each time he won't tell me what he's doing. Things are just like they were back home if not worse as he has barely spoke to me since we got here and it's just making me upset at this point. 

Everything has gotten so bad that I've decided I have to talk to Pedri and I want answers. I really didn't want to ruin the holiday by talking about this but I don't want to put up with it anymore I know Pedri will push back but I'm not going to let it go until he tells me the truth even if it's not what I want to hear. Even if I have to hear that he doesn't love me anymore and he's found someone else I just want to know as this weird phase we are in is hurting me just as much as knowing the truth might. 

Waking up this morning Pedri wasn't in bed next to me but a minute later he came back in the bedroom with breakfast for both of us which was a real surprise but a welcomed one. He handed me a tray with pancakes, strawberries and fresh orange juice on and kissed my cheek as he did so. He still wasn't quite himself as he wasn't as talkative as I'm used to him being but he acknowledged my existence at least which is really something. 

"What do you want to do today?" He asked 

"I don't know but I'd like to spend some time with you I've missed spending time together" I said

"We can do that and tonight I want to take you out to dinner" he said 

"I like the sound of that" I said leaning over to kiss him 

We both got ready and took a walk to the nearest little town to get some things for a picnic on the beach. Pedri held my hand the entire walk and he carried everything including all the food and beach supplies then he took over the set up while I just took in the view of the beach and a shirtless Pedri which was even better than the beach. Once everything was set up Pedri started feeding me strawberries which I very much enjoyed as I love strawberries and I had no idea he got them. It seems like his romantic side has come back all of a sudden but I'm not going to complain as I love this side of him and I missed him acting this way for the last month. As much as I love having my loving boyfriend back I still want to know what's been going on with him as he can't just hide things from me and expect me not to ask questions. I still want to enjoy today though so I don't want to say anything until after dinner as not to ruin the day. 

After spending most of the day on the beach swimming together and cuddling on the shore we walked back to the house so we could get ready for dinner. I let Pedri shower first as he doesn't take as long and I wanted to wash my hair. I decided to do an everything shower because I want to look good when we go out seeing as it's been a while since we e been on a date. By the time I got out the shower Pedri was already waiting for me in the living room but I still took my time choosing a dress and doing my hair and makeup. I never wear a ton of makeup or do anything too crazy with my hair so I stuck with that tonight but I still think I looked good with my hair in beach waves a light bit of makeup and red dress. Once I was ready I headed out to find Pedri who was sat on his phone waiting for me but as soon as he heard the sound of my heels on the floor he looked up and smiled. 

"Wow you look amazing so beautiful" he said 

"Thank you you look good too I love this look on you" I said admiring his white shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way and his black trousers 

"I almost don't want the rest of the world to see you look so beautiful but we have a reservation so we have to go" he said 

He gently kissed my cheek and we headed to the car we have been renting and rive to the nearest town which we could've walked to but I didn't ask questions. The restaurant was really nice it had slightly dimmed lighting but each table had candles and flowers on it which made it feel a bit more romantic and intimate. Our table was at the back of the restaurant with a view of the beach which was really nice. The food was amazing and the staff were lovely but they left us to it which I always appreciate as there are times we have had dates ruined by staff not leaving us alone. We actually had a really lovely time Pedri still seemed a little off but it seemed more like nerves than anything else so I didn't think too much off it. Pedri paid and said we had something else planned so we needed to go before the sun set fully which I thought was a bit strange but I trust him so I just let him drive to wherever we are going. 

It wasn't long before we arrived at the top of a small mountain which was really secluded but had a view of the sunset over the beach. The view was breathtaking the sky was filled with pinks and purples as the sun was going over the horizon and the waves on the beach were calm but they still crashed against the shore making a sound that he always found quite calming. I was so entranced by the view that I'd completely forgotten that Pedri was supposed to be with me until I turned around and saw him down on one knee holding a box with a ring in his hand. That's when it all started to make sense he's been planning this for a while which is why he's been so secretive and nervous as he's really not good at keeping secrets. All of it hit me like a ton of bricks and tears started falling down my face as I realised that this was really happening. 

"Y/n I have never met anyone as amazing and as beautiful as you and I've never loved anyone the way I love you so I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else so will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me" he said 

"Yes a million times yes" I said 

He slid the ring on my finger before standing up and kissing me. The ring was absolutely beautiful it didn't have a huge diamond on it or anything really flashy but that's exactly what I wanted in an engagement ring and I'm so happy Pedri thought about what I'd want not getting the fanciest ring known to man just because that's what people would expect him to do. 

"Do you like the ring?" He asked 

"I love it it is exactly what I have dreamed about and it fits perfectly" I said 

"I'm so glad you like it the boys weren't sure as it doesn't have a big diamond on it but I thought you'd prefer something more understated" he explained 

"You were right I love it but I love you a lot more I'd take any ring you gave me because it's from you" I said 

"I know I've been acting weirdly for the last couple weeks and I'm sorry about that I've just been so nervous about asking you to marry me and stressed about making it perfect because that's what you deserve but I promise things will go back to normal now" he said 

"Its ok I was worried maybe you didn't love me anymore but clearly that's not the case it all makes more sense now especially my dad not being suspicious about the way you were acting” I laughed 

“I asked for his blessing before I did anything so he’s been keeping this a secret for a while” he said 

“Well he sure did a good job and so did you on setting this all up I’ll never forget this day” I said 

He gave me another kiss and grabbed his phone which I didn’t see and showed me the video he had taken of the whole thing. Watching it back only made me happier as I got to see the smiles on our faces and the view behind us was beautiful and will make for some great pictures if we can get some from the video. We stayed up the top of the mountain for a while just soaking in the moment and enjoying our first moments as an engaged couple. It’s moments like these with Pedri that make me realise just how good life is and how I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together. 

[itgetsdark-x]

ok but pre-outbreak Joel gets a cute young new neighbour and she’s a camgirl (pretending it’s more modern day and the technology exists lol) but he doesn’t know and one day she asked him for help with fixing something so he actually sees the inside of her house. And then later on, at night he’s trying to find something good 👀 for happy Joel time (bc his cute neighbour in her way too short shorts got him a lil hot and bothered) he comes across her doing a live cam show and he’s like “oh shit.. I know that room. And that ass..) and he realises it’s her and he just has to join in and see what’s going on and it just gets smutty.

And in the end he somehow reveals it’s him in a discreet non creepy way and she’s like yeah i know *wink wink* just really flirty and stuff! There could even be another part eventually where they actually get together and smuuuut!

This idea has been in my head the last few days but I’m not a good writer.. and you’re such a good smut writer 😭😭

A/N: oh my sweet anon, I am so sorry this took so long!! I may or may not have got carried away with this and rolled it all into one piece… so have this monstrous 7.1k word oneshot 🥹

Warnings: 18+, minors dni!! fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!), use of the word daddy, implied age gap (everyone is of legal and consenting age!), probs more I’ve missed. It’s just porn tbh people!

Word Count: 7.1k

Characters: Joel Miller x Cam Girl!Reader (f)

You waved sweetly, blew a kiss to your laptop screen and ended the stream after saying a final goodbye to your viewers. You closed down your laptop and reached behind you, on your bed to grab your T-shirt and shorts. You stood up from your spot on your bed, stretched your back with a groan and threw your baggy T-shirt on over your naked torso and shimmied your tight gym shorts over your bare legs. 

You had moved back to Austin a few months ago with your parents, things had ended badly with a previous partner and it meant moving back to the city to be closer to them. Your parents majorly helped you out, hence why you were able to afford the comfy house you lived in, deep in the suburbs. 

Your house was next to Joel Miller’s, he was a devoted single father to his daughter, Sarah, who was in her mid-teens. You would sometimes look after Sarah if her sitter ever cancelled last minute and you loved it, it was like having a little sister, she would often come round and ask for advice on clothes, boys and sometimes, homework, when she trusted you enough to know the subject. 

You kept a fair distance from her dad, he was a handsome male in his late forties, potentially pushing older and sure, you thought he was super handsome but it wasn’t a line you particularly wanted to cross due to the implications and mess if you did, so you stuck to yourself besides your interactions with Sarah. 

To help pay your rent and keep food on your table, you had a part-time job at a local store but the main source of your income came from your online presence. You performed on an adult-only cam site and offered subscriptions for your content. You had somewhat gained traction on the site and it left you living fairly comfortably, especially with your parents help. No one around you in your day-to-day life knew about your online presence and you preferred to keep it that way, it was the twenty-first century and sure your parents may have understood, you just preferred to not talk about it with them. 

You walked downstairs, your makeup was still on but you had pulled your hair up away from your face. You had gone to get a snack after a two-hour long show, you had given your midday viewers a special treat as you normally only performed in the evenings / later at night as that’s when the money seemed to roll in easier. You ate a bagel with cream cheese and sighed to yourself as you scrolled through your phone, you clocked the time and noticed you had four hours or so until you had an evening stream booked. You needed a hot bath to clean yourself up after this afternoon’s one and a nap also sounded amazing. 

With that in mind, you wandered back upstairs and switched your taps on in your en-suite and awaited the water to warm up. You waited five minutes and the water was still icy cold, you rolled your eyes and pulled your clothes back on. 

“Fucks sake.” You huffed angrily and stomped downstairs to pop next door. 

Joel was a contractor and all-round handyman, sure he wasn’t a plumber but he would most definitely have a better idea of what was going on and he would most likely be able to fix it. You walked down the driveway of your house to head to Joel’s; the cool summer breeze pricked your skin, goosebumps rose on your arms and legs and your nipples hardened under the white fabric of your T-shirt. 

You brought your hand up and knocked on the door once, you looked down at your appearance and suddenly felt self-conscious, you pulled your arms across your chest to cover your nipples and shifted on the spot as you awaited someone to answer the door. 

“Oh, hi darlin’.” Joel said, smiling through his confusion as to why you were here and knocking on his door. “Sarah is at a friend’s for the night, she’s been beggin’ me to let her have a sleepover so I gave in. Were you looking for her?” He asked softly. 

You tracked his eyes, they started from your flip-flop clad feet and followed the shapely lines of your bare legs before they hungrily raked over your torso and found their way back to your own eyes. You swallowed roughly and pulled your arms tighter around yourself. 

“Uh, I was actually looking for you…” you started. “I’ve got somewhere to be in a few hours and I need a bath, my taps aren’t running hot. I was wonderin’ whether you could come over and take a look?” You asked nervously. 

“Oh sure! It’ll probably be a simple fix, let me grab my tools from the truck and I’ll be right over.” He smiled and closed his door behind him. 

He grabbed his toolkit from the back of the truck and ushered for you to lead the way back to your house. Joel watched as your hips swayed as you walked, the stretchy fabric of your gym shorts clung to your hips, ass and thighs perfectly. They rode up your behind in the most teasing way and Joel mentally cursed himself for imagining what laid underneath the material. 

“Hot date tonight then?” Joel asked innocently as you walked him up your stairs. 

“Ha. Yeah. Something like that.” You laughed awkwardly, god if only he knew. 

You opened your bedroom door to Joel and let him walk into your room. “Yeah, just through that door. I’m useless with this sorta stuff and normally I would call my dad but he’s at work and I noticed your truck in the driveway…” you mumbled and stood in your bedroom awkwardly. 

You looked around your room, just scanning the area to ensure you hadn’t left any of your toys out from your stream and you felt your cheeks immediately glow when you noticed your vibrator sitting by your pillow. 

Joel was humming as he took your bath panel off to inspect the plumbing work under the ceramic and you took the opportunity to push the vibe just under your pillow. You went over to the bathroom and leant on the door frame; you couldn’t help but admire the older male’s biceps as they flexed as he toyed with the temperature valve under the bath. He fiddled around for fifteen minutes or so until the water ran hot, the water immediately steaming in the air. 

You grinned at him as he called out ‘gotcha’. “Joel! You’re a hero, thank you! I owe you a pack of beers, I’ll get them over to you at some point this week, I promise.” You enthused and clapped your hands. 

Joel sat up from his position, clicked your bath panel back in place and switched the taps off. He looked at you and dusted his hands off on his jeans, as you clapped he couldn’t help but notice the way your breasts squeezed together under your shirt. He could clearly see that you weren’t wearing any underwear, your nipple’s colour showed through your white T-shirt and he felt his cock twitch in his boxers at the sight. 

“Don’t be silly, darlin’. I’m just happy to help out a neighbour in need. Plus you look out for Sarah, I owe you a lot more than sorting out a couple valves under your tub.” He laughed and threw his spanner back into his tool bag. 

“I love Sarah! She’s like a little sister to me, I just hope I’m not a bad influence on her!” You giggled and watched as Joel packed up his tools. 

“You a bad influence? I doubt that very much, sweetheart.” He smiled softly and you let him pass you back into your room. He looked around your room and admired your decorations. “I like what you’ve done in here, looks real nice. You do this yourself?” He asked and toyed with the material of the canopy that hung above your double bed. 

You nodded proudly. “Yeah, well, my dad helped me a little but I always get impatient and end up doing it myself just so it’s done.” You chuckled and he looked around before clapping his hands awkwardly once. 

“I should uh, let you have your bath in peace. Unless you need anything else from me?” Joel asked causing your eyebrows to rise in shock. “No! I meant um, sorry darlin’! Didn’t mean to sound so dirty with that suggestion, I mean do you have anything else that needs to looking at around your house?” He corrected himself and you laughed softly at him. 

“Oh, of course you didn’t.” You mumbled, an edge of disappointment lacing your voice. “Well, my facets and pipes under the sink, downstairs are a little loose and leaky. If you wouldn’t mind tightening them, I would be really grateful.” You smiled softly and after Joel gave you a nod, you lead him downstairs into your kitchen. 

You bent down to move your cleaning supplies out of the way and Joel swore his heart almost stopped, he could clearly see the outline of your ass and your privates as the lycra clung to every one of your curves. You stepped back and let Joel work again. 

“Joel, can I please be really rude and excuse myself to go and take that bath? I need to clean up before I’m needed elsewhere. I really appreciate your help with this all and please feel free to let yourself out. I’ll pop by tomorrow with some beers!” You said sweetly. 

“No worries at all, I won’t be long at all, sweetheart. Please don’t worry about the beers, it’s my pleasure. Honestly.” Joel spoke from under the sink as you left the kitchen to go back to your en suite. 

Joel continued to work on your kitchen sink, it was a short job and he was soon finished. He heard the water stop running upstairs and once again, he scolded himself for letting his filthy thoughts run away from him. He imagined your body slipping into soapy water, the bubbles clinging to your breasts, your perky nipples inviting him to suck them into his mouth and your perfectly round ass glistening with the soapy water. He groaned to himself as he picked up his toolkit to leave, he briefly palmed his half-hard cock in his jeans and he was feeling so thankful that he had the house to himself that evening. 

Whilst in the bath, you laid back into the enticing warm water and you let your thoughts run away from you. You imagined how Joel’s calloused fingers would feel buried deep in you, working your pussy closer to orgasming. You imagined how it would feel to be embraced by him before he pushed his dick deep into you until you were crying for him to stop. You physically shook your head and swallowed thickly, that right there, those thoughts, that’s exactly why you tried to keep your distance from the older male. He got under your skin and lit a fire deep in the pits of your belly. Silently, you were appreciative that you were so worked up because you knew it meant you would be giving your viewers a great show tonight. 

The time soon came for you to start your live stream; you were wearing a lacy pink bra and matching panties; the bra had crisscross straps across your cleavage and your nipples showed through the sheer material. 

“Evening guys,” you purred and gave a wave to your viewers. Whenever you streamed you work a masquerade mask to hide your identity and you always put a voice on; it was similar to your own but a little bit lower and more sultry. “How’s everyone’s day going today? I know I’m super excited to be here tonight.” You whined as your fingers toyed with your hardening nipples. 

Your set up was simple, you usually sat on your bed at the beginning of streams before moving into all crude positions for your viewers; their comments and tips egging you to go further. 

Comments started to flood in and it didn’t take long for you to lose your bra; you kept your panties and stockings on as the garment you chose for tonight was crotchless which mean you could toy with yourself without losing the sexy underwear. 

You were laid back, your back was arched off the bed as you plunged your rabbit vibrator in and out, your thoughts swam with Joel and imagining it was him pleasuring you. Small moans tumbled from your lips as the noise of comments and monetary tips filled the room. 

You were getting closer to having an orgasm and you didn’t know how long you could hold off for. Normally, when streaming, you would fake it a lot since it was a lot of effort to have orgasm after orgasm, especially for hours at a time; by now you had perfected the faking of one but not tonight. Your fingers pinched at your nipples and you shuddered on your toy as you worked yourself through it. You removed the toy and brought it up to your bare lips, you sucked it into your mouth and moaned. 

“Wow, thank you Sunset331 for the $100 tip. I’ll be sure to send a picture your way after the stream.” You purred. 

*Handyman47 Entered the Chat*

“Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” You called out and turned so the camera had a perfect view of your exposed ass and vagina. You pushed the toy back into yourself and whimpered at your overstimulation as you got right back into the quick rhythm. 

—

Joel was frustrated, sexually and emotionally. He needed to relieve some of the stress that had built up this afternoon. He had always found you tempting and attractive but tried his hardest to ignore you whenever you came round. But there you were today, all perfect and tight, he was blinded by his arousal.

He laid back on his bed, his back pushed up against his pillows as he got his laptop out and started Googling adult-only sites that could help him along the way. He stumbled across a streaming site he hadn’t seen before, it looked decent enough so he quickly made an account and clicked onto one of the first streams he saw the thumbnail for. 

The actress looked attractive enough for him to take the edge off and he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, that the body on his screen looked similar to yours but he pushed that sinister thought away and assumed it was because you had frustrated him so much earlier that day. 

Then he heard the voice from his laptop, “Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” It clicked instantly in his brain, his eyes scanned the background of the room and he swallowed thickly. 

Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in his hand, he was already stroking himself and then he happened to stumble across you. He watched on as the toy disappeared into your hungry heat and would come out covered in your arousal, he groaned loudly from the back of his throat as his thumb swiped over his cock head and lubricated his length with his own pre-cum. 

He knew he should close his laptop down and go and take a cool shower but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of his laptop screen, he looked out his window and could see yours; your curtains were drawn and there was a charming pink glow coming from behind them. Just like in your stream. He was so close to you, yet you had no idea just what he was doing a mere distance away from you or how crazy you drove him.

—

“Oh yeah, just like that daddy. Please don’t stop. Yeah.” You moaned, you had switched positions again. You were on your back and your sticky privates showed directly to the camera. Your juices were creamy and thick as you continued to push your toy into your hole. “Hmm, I think I should change to something bigger. I need a real man to come here and fill me up.” You purred and sat up to read the comments. 

Handyman47: I volunteer, darlin’. 

Sunset331: on my way, need u so bad

Jungleboy87: show us that needy pussy again. pls

You giggled as you read the comments, your tits hung in front of the camera as you did so but one caught your eye. Handyman47, surely it was a coincidence, no? Joel was around that age, that was his job and the fact he called you darling. Your throat went dry as you pondered the possibility of it being the older man from across the road. 

You pushed that thought aside and grabbed your dildo off your bedside table; it was hot pink and a thick 10” in length, your biggest one to date. 

“What do you think, guys? Do you reckon I can make it fit in my little hole?” You purred and ran it through your wet folds. 

You pressed the tip of the toy into your hole and whimpered at the immediate stretch, slowly, you plunged it into yourself. The stretch of the toy stung and you closed yours eyes, imagining it was Joel filling you out like that. 

Comments of encouragement flooded the chat once again and you smiled devilishly as you pulled the toy out to switch your position. You lifted the prop from the floor, it was a large piece of plastic that you used specifically for streaming, it allowed you to suction your toy to it and it meant you could ride it with ease. 

“Oh fuck, daddy. You’re so big. Dunno if I can take it all like this.” You whimpered, straddling the toy and slowly pushing yourself down onto it. 

You rode your toy, the pleasure already building up in your body and you clenched around it weakly as your thighs burned with the effort. 

Joel watched on, his eyes fixated on his screen; he saw the way your tight pussy stretched around the toy and he pumped his cock enthusiastically with each rise and fall of your body. His tip was leaking pre-cum and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was cumming into his palm over the sight of you fucking yourself. 

“Gonna squirt all over your cock.” You shuddered and you meant it, it was how you ended your shows normally; one final blow out for the fans. 

Your hand fumbled beside you as it reached for your bullet vibrator. You brought it to your clit and almost immediately you felt your orgasm come crashing through you, your hips faltered as your ground down onto the toy below you. You rose as your felt yourself gush around it, your juices splashed onto the toy and you couldn’t help the way your eyes screwed shut and a loud, shaky moan fell from your lips. 

“Fuck, Joel.” You whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He heard it. That was his name. Surely not. Joel watched as you continued to squirt, his cock throbbed and with one final pass of his hand, he came hard. Your name fell from his lips with a groan, he kept hearing the way you whimpered his name as you came on your toy over and over in his head and it made his spent dick jump as he milked himself of every last drop. 

You shuddered as you removed the toy fully from yourself and discarded your bullet to the side of you after turning it off. 

“Wow guys, I’ve made a massive mess here.” You giggled and slapped your sopping wet core once, the wetness apparent as your fingers tapped lightly. 

Comments of appreciation were flooding through your chat and you grinned as you read each one. 

“Thank you sooo much for tuning in guys, I won’t be streaming tomorrow but I’ll be back the day after. Thank you all so much for the support. I love you.” You cooed sweetly and blew a kiss to the camera before shutting the stream down to clean up after yourself. 

—

You had slept soundly after last night’s stream; it was a busy one. All morning, whilst trying to do some admin work, all you could think of was that one username that stuck out to you… Handyman47. You were sure it just had to be a sick coincidence, your thoughts were clouded by lust in the moment and of course it wasn’t Joel. Why would he watch your stream? He didn’t find you attractive, that would just be ridiculous. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. 

You finished up your work for the morning and decided to pop out to the store, to buy the beer you had promised Joel. It was a warm day so you dressed yourself in a sunflower-yellow sundress and flip flops, your hair was tied up messily. 

Once you arrived home from the store, you parked your car up and made your way over to Joel’s house to give him the cool beers. It was a small gesture to say thank-you for the help, even if he insisted that he didn’t want them, it was the polite thing to do and you were raised with manners. 

You raised your arm and placed a quick knock to the door, you were half-expecting to see Sarah’s gorgeous locks but instead you were met with Joel. 

“No Sarah again?” You asked. 

“She uh, she wanted to stay another night at her friend’s and well, you know how the kid is, how could I say no?! You disappointed to see me again, darlin’?” Joel joked with a smirk, although, oddly, he barely made eye contact with you. 

You shrugged. “Eh, not quite my girl but you’ll do.” You joked and held the beers out for Joel. “Plus, she can’t exactly drink these. Not for a couple years anyway.” You winked. 

“Or ever.” Joel replied dryly, catching your eyes this time. He took the pack of beers from you with a smile. “I’m tellin’ ya, you didn’t need to do this for me! It was a small favour. How ‘bout you come on in, we can crack open a beer together?” Joel asked, opening his door wider for you to step in. 

“Oh I wouldn’t wanna impose, I bought them for you to enjoy. Don’t feel like you have to share!” You smiled. 

Joel shook his head and gently took your wrist, to pull you inside. “Nonsense. You look like you’ve had a busy mornin’ and could do with a beer. Go ahead and make yourself comfy in the lounge, I’ll put these in the fridge and grab a couple.” 

You obliged albeit reluctantly, you didn’t mind spending time with Joel but he drove you mad; just being in a close proximity to him like this drove you insane, you couldn’t act on what you wanted and it was torture. You sat down on the couch, crossed your legs and smoothed your dress down, the hem rested comfortably on your upper thigh, just teasing with a glimpse of your forbidden skin. 

Joel entered the room and gave you a bottle of beer, you shot him a small thank you before taking a sip. He sat opposite you in his arm chair and let his legs sprawl out widely; he was wearing shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt, the material hugging his biceps deliciously. 

“How was your hot date last night?” Joel enquired innocently, pretending he didn’t know what you had been up to. “I’m sure I could hear you screamin’ from here.” He teased. 

You laughed dryly and shot him a deathly glare which only made him chuckle. “Wasn’t a hot date, I was actually um, I was working.” You mumbled and stared into the neck of your bottle before drinking some more. 

“That time of night? I thought you worked at that fancy little store in the city?” Joel asked, probing you further. He was treading on thin ice, either you were going to open up about what you were doing or you were going to lie through your teeth. He noticed the way you switched your legs over and shifted awkwardly in your seat. 

“I uh — I have an extra job.” You shrugged, keeping your cards close to your chest. Joel had never really spent this much alone time with you, especially not to ask you this many questions. “How’s work going for you, a lot of jobs on at the moment?” You asked just trying to deflect the attention away from your work. 

“Nope, you’ve got me intrigued, darlin’. What were you doing? What’s this extra job?” 

You cringed, you placed your bottle on the table and hid your face behind your palms. “I — I model and perform on an adult-only site; I do live shows of porn, basically.” You admitted, your cheeks were glowing under your hands. 

Joel watched as you hid your face, he bit back a smirk and watched as your embarrassment poured from you; it was wrong to admit, but it turned him on, to see you all embarrassed and flustered. 

“Oh yeah, I know the ones.” Joel said casually, taking another drink with a shrug. 

You peered through your fingers and your mind shot back to the username. Surely it wasn’t him. No. 

“You, Joel Miller, are telling me you’re one of those creeps on the site?” You asked, raising an eyebrow up at him. 

“Wouldn’t say I was a creep.” He stated bluntly. “I have needs darlin’, especially when my neighbour drives me mad all afternoon dressed in tight shorts or a sexy little dress.” His eyebrow was cocked upwards, testing the water to see exactly how you would react. 

You put your hands on your lap, your mouth fell agape and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat again. 

“Oh. I. Um. You?” You mumbled incoherently, your brain not working quickly enough to form an intelligible sentence which caused Joel to laugh. “You — you see anything on those sites of interest?” You asked quietly, your hands smoothing the fabric of your dress more out of nerves than to adjust the garment. 

“Saw a nice little show last night…” Joel said quietly, he stood from his seat; you could see the vague outline of his thickening cock in his shorts and your privates throbbed. “Thought I recognised the room…” he said, sitting down next to you. “But then I thought, no, it couldn’t be that good little girl that lives next to me. Not with the way she was performing, doing such a good job at taking in her toys.”

Joel was closing the space next to you, you could feel the weight of his body next to you and his fingers tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. It was a tender movement and it made you shiver physically under his touch. You avoided making eye contact with him, you were sure this was just a joke and he was teasing you for your extracurricular job. 

“Look at me.” Joel demanded, his lips were by your ear now, they just ghosted over the area and you shook your head. “Look. At. Me.” Joel said more sternly and his voice was dropped impossibly low. 

His hand held your bare knee, his fingers teasing to travel just under your dress and you finally bared to look at him. Your eyes were wide in shock, your chest heaved slightly with your more laboured breaths and small beads of sweat collected on your neck. 

“It was you…” you whispered to which Joel just smirked. “Son of a bitch. You’re a dirty old man, Mr Miller.” You teased, still feeling nervous under his watchful gaze and touch. 

“Is that why you whimpered out my name as you squirted on your toy? Cause I’m a dirty old man?” Joel asked, his voice dripping with sheer confidence. 

“I — no I didn’t.” You huffed. 

Joel squeezed the delicate skin of your thigh and you made a pathetic noise from the back of your throat before you tried to swallow it back. 

“I heard it.” Joel said smugly. “God, made me cum so hard on myself to hear you calling out my name.” He groaned, thinking back to his activities from last night. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call out your name, I didn’t think anyone heard me. Please don’t tell anyone about my extra job.” You whined as Joel’s hand slid up under your dress slightly, his fingers brushed past your clothed heat and your eyes dipped shut for a second. 

“How about I show you how good I feel compared to those pieces of plastic.” Joel whispered. 

“Please.” You breathed and bucked your hips upwards, searching for the feel of Joel’s fingers. 

Joel silently got off the sofa, you wanted to whine and bring him back so you could feel his large frame next to you again. Before you could react, the older male was sinking to his knees in front of you and was holding your thighs firmly. 

“Wanted to taste you from the day you moved in next door.” Joel stated and your cheeks flushed at his admission. 

He pushed the fabric of your dress up, you took the hint and was quick to discard it to the side of you. Your breasts were freed from the fabric and Joel groaned deeply as he drank in your naked form. He held your thighs again and he pulled you forward so your panties were closer to his face which caused you to yelp.

“Look at you. Fuck.” Joel cursed as he let one of his fingers trail across the wet fabric of your panties. “You wet already for me? Thought you woulda got it outta your system last night.” Joel teased with a knowing smirk as your shuddered against his gentle touch. 

“Are you gonna chat up my vagina all afternoon or are you gonna show me how much better you are than my toys?” You snapped with a bratty smile. 

“I won’t give you anything if you talk to me like that. Now be a good girl and shut up for me, yeah?” Joel bit back, his voice full of condescension which admittedly, only fuelled your arousal further. 

You rolled your eyes and just as you opened your mouth to argue back with the man, he pulled your panties to the side and let one of his fingers sink into your heat roughly. You threw your head back and your fingers gripped at the fabric of Joel’s t-shirt, the sudden action throwing you off. 

Joel twisted his digit to curl it inside of you before he removed it again, causing you to whine angrily at him. You lifted your head to grumble but instead you were silenced as you locked eyes with him; he brought his wet finger to his lips and sucked it in with a soft moan. Your lips parted in silent shock as Joel sucked your arousal into his mouth, moaning like it was the finest food he had ever eaten. 

“Taste so sweet, princess. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He groaned, finally removing your panties from your privates. As you lifted your hips to allow the man more access, he noticed how evident your arousal was, you were near dripping onto his sofa and his mouth watered. “I’m going to eat you out now and I won’t stop until you squirt right into my mouth, so how about you be a good girl and do that for me.” Joel said sternly. 

You nodded dumbly; no man had ever spoken to you this way before, at least, no man you truly wanted. Without another word, Joel dipped his head down and licked a fat stripe up through your folds. You moaned softly, the noise was delicate and sincere, a complete contrast to how you sounded coming from his laptop screen last night. Your body shuddered against the sofa and your fingers had weaved their way into Joel’s salt and pepper hair; his soft locks entangled with your digits. You gently tugged at his hair causing the male to make a gruff noise into your folds, the vibrations rippled through you and you moaned again. 

Joel sucked your clit into his mouth, the sensitive bud was already throbbing with the male’s previous efforts and as soon as his lips suctioned around it your back was arching off his sofa. The old couch creaked under your body as your contorted your back when Joel’s tongue flicked over your clit. 

“Fuck me!” You cursed, one of your hands leaving Joel’s head to pathetically grip at the edge of the sofa for further stability. 

“Later,” Joel mumbled into your wet pussy. 

You let out a breathy chuckle; your head was swimming, your thighs were shaking with the pleasure as Joel continued to work his tongue expertly over your clit and occasionally to dip down into your hole. You felt your orgasm start to bubble lowly in the depths of your belly, just a gentle simmer as Joel licked at you like a man who had been starved. 

As if he read your mind of wanting more, Joel brought two fingers up to your hole; he barely dipped them into you and you whimpered weakly. He pushed one finger in, just barely up to his knuckle before he withdrew it and licked over your clit again, the tip of his tongue flicking at it gently. 

“Please.” You pleaded with a weak and shaking voice. 

Joel looked up at you; his dark pupils were blown with lust and he smirked as he let both fingers push into you, again, barely going past his first knuckles. He twisted his fingers in you and pushed them in fully until the palm of his hand met your body. You let out a loud gasp as your eyes fluttered shut and like a perfectly-timed dance, Joel flicked his tongue across your clit once again. 

“Fucking Christ, shit.” You cursed, your voice loud and sharp as Joel worked his fingers rhythmically into you. 

Joel laughed softly against you as he plunged his fingers into you again and again. He wrapped his lips around your clit again and suckled at the bud softly as his fingers worked into you quickly. Your orgasm came crashing down, you barely had time to register it as Joel worked his fingers quicker, he curled them upwards and they bumped the spongy spot inside of you that had screams tumbling from your lips. 

“G-gonna,” is all you managed to get out, the room was filled with your moans and the obscene wet noise of your arousal as Joel fingered you with fervour. 

“That’s it,” Joel cooed. “Good girl, cum for me. Soak me, need it.” He moaned as he pulled his mouth off of your clit but kept his face near and he replaced it with his thumb. 

The different sensation threw you off momentarily but it was too late and your orgasm ripped through your body, it drew a long moan from your throat; the noise was animalistic and raw and it echoed through the room. Joel removed his fingers and with that, you let go and whimpered as you gushed onto Joel’s face, he lapped up your juices and you shuddered through your orgasm. Joel watched as your pussy clenched and fluttered around air, the aftershocks of your orgasm evident as you writhed in your spot. 

“Look at you.” He sighed happily, watching you still. “Even better than on the screen, so perfect, so beautiful.”

You blushed as his words and you weakly let go of his hair your legs were still quaking as he let go of them, you slumped against his sofa; completely unashamed of your naked state compared to Joel’s fully dressed one. He stood and the outline of his hard cock was evident in his light shorts, there was a darkened wet patch and your mouth watered at the thought he got that turned on by pleasuring you. 

“Come here and taste yourself on me.” Joel breathed, taking your cheek to pull you in for a bruising kiss. 

You held onto Joel’s arms as he kissed you, his tongue trailed over your bottom lip and greedily you sucked it into your mouth, urging him to explore every crevice of your mouth. You made a small noise of appreciation as your mouth was flooded with the taste of Joel mixed with the tang of your own arousal. 

“Fuck me already. Please.” You breathed against Joel’s face, momentarily breaking the kiss. 

“How do you wanna take me, darlin’?” He asked. 

“However you wanna give it to me.” You retorted with a smirk. 

“Get on your knees on the couch, stick your ass up for me and show me that pretty little cunt.” He growled lowly and you obliged happily, doing as he said. 

You positioned yourself so your chest was pressed to the back of the sofa and you allowed Joel full access to yourself. You wiggled your ass as you heard Joel toss his shorts to the side haphazardly. 

“All for me now, huh?” Joel asked, his hands mauled at the skin of your ass and spread your cheeks, he took his length and pressed the tip into your hole, before you knew it, it was gone again and he slapped it gently at your oversensitive clit. “Tell me how bad you want it.” He hissed, running his cock through your wet folds, nudging your clit with each pass. 

“Please, Joel. I want it so bad, never needed a cock so bad in my life, you already made me feel better than any of my toys or the boys I’ve fucked before put together. Please give me your cock, wanna feel your cum fill me up so bad. P-please.” You whined, your voice coming out as small, wrecked sobs as Joel continued to rub his cock over you. 

“Good girl.” He praised and without warning be bottomed out inside of you, you moaned loudly; a perfect blend of pleasure and pain rippled through your veins as Joel brushed some hair from your face so he could evaluate your emotions. 

He rubbed your ass with his palm and landed a bruising slap to it, you moaned and threw your head back in pleasure. Joel took that opportunity to pull his hips back, to pull out of you fully; he passed his cock through your soaked pussy lips once again. Your mouth opened to complain but before a single noise could leave your mouth, he was pushing back into your greedy heat without warning. 

“So. Fucking. Tight.” Joel groaned, accentuating each of his words with a hard thrust of his cock. 

He built up a harsh pace, your fingers turned white as they gripped at the fabric of the sofa below you. You were sure if you held on any tighter then the fabric would surely rip under you. Your body prickled as if a hundred needles were touching your skin, your stomach knotted as you felt another orgasm working it’s way through you. Your walls fluttered around Joel and your legs wobbled as you tried to stay grounded as his thick cock nudged that sweet spot inside of you. 

“G-gonna, gonna…” You whimpered, your eyes screwing shut. 

“Mmhm, that’s it. Atta girl, cum on my cock. Tell me how good it feels, princess.” Joel whispered, leaning forward so his body was pressed to yours. 

“Fuck!” You cursed, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. “Feels so good, n-never felt this good before. Making me feel drunk on your cock, gonna need it again and again and again. Please give it to me. Please. So good.” You rambled, words falling from your lips carelessly as Joel fucked you into your orgasm. 

His thick but nimble digits wound their way around you to fall to your clit, he circled the bud perfectly and it had your head swimming. It was the thing you needed to push you over the edge; you felt as if you had fallen from a cliff, just floating in midair as Joel worked you through it. Moans of profanity and his name fell from your parted lips as you came around the man’s cock, your walls clenched him and held him tightly. 

Seemingly, that was what sent Joel over the edge, his hips faltered and he thrust into you once more, much weaker this time. His cock twitched in your walls and with a groan, and his hands squeezing your hips roughly, he came deep inside of you. You whimpered as your body went limp; Joel’s hot cum filled you and it made you clench weakly around him, your greedy hole trying to suck him in deeper still. 

“Fuck me.” You whispered, your ass still on display for the older man as he pulled out of you with a wince. 

“Just did that, darlin’.” He laughed breathlessly, trying to gain composure once again. 

You rolled your eyes, was typical Joel to state that when clearly it was a rhetorical state meant as a throwaway. 

“I should um, well I should pop to the bathroom to quickly clean up and then get out of your hair.” You said, somewhat awkwardly as you stood shakily from the sofa and held your thighs together tightly. 

Less than a minute ago, the man’s cock had been inside of you and now that the thick tension and lust had cleared the air you couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward about it. 

“Stay?” Joel asked. “I mean, I wasn’t really done with you yet.” He grinned boyishly and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “Just an idea, darlin’ but how about we go shower and clean up and order some food. We still got more beers to get through. Then, I’m sure if you’re a really good girl, I could give you my cock again.” His hand was stroking up and down your arm, his fingers tickled your skin and in their wake they left goosebumps. 

You looked up at Joel, into his deep brown eyes and you nodded with a grin. 

“Deal. But you’re paying for the food, you ol’ perv.” You teased with a giggle. 

“Get upstairs.” Joel said with a roll of his eyes. 

You laughed to yourself again as you walked away, to go upstairs only to yelp loudly when Joel came up behind you and placed a light tap to your ass and rushed in front of you. 

“You’re dead, Miller.” You called and chased up behind him to return the favour. 

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