#and then I moved my eyes slightly to the left and looked STRAIGHT IN TO HER FUCKING EYES

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: the wrong one

authors note: i’m still focused on finishing up ltye, but i got this ask, and i had to make this happen 😭

warnings: angst, bullying, and violence amongst children

masterlist

words: 4.3k

Something is wrong.

Call it a hunch, a gut feeling, or just a mother’s instinct, but the moment Solana accepts a call from her kids’ school and hears something has happened with Leya, she knows something is wrong. Because she’s received calls like that before, more than she’d like to admit, most of them regarding Leya having an episode with her OCD.

But the majority of those outreaches also come from Leya herself. She uses her cell phone to call or text Solana, Roman, or usually both of them, that she wants to come home. Then comes the call from the school.

But, there’s no contact from Leya this time. Nor does she answer Solana’s call or text, which is how the wife of the Tribal Chief knows that something is wrong.

And the moment she steps foot into the office, ignores the attempts of the dean of the school, Dean Webber, to catch her before she sees Leya. Solana isn’t having it. She heads straight to the nurses office, immediately stopping in the doorway, her chest tightening to an instant, uncomfortable degree. 

“Oh my God….”

The nurse, Nurse Dixon is tending to a crying Leya. Leya, who sits on the table, face red, a dark, publish bruise around her left eye, cut on her cheek, and the left side of her lip slightly swollen. Sprinkles of blood dripping on her uniform that’s disheveled and wet. Her hair, that Solana had styled in two cute ponytails this morning, as was Leya’s request, is down and frizzy, almost matted. 

But, even with all of that, it’s the look of absolute pain in Leya’s eyes that has Solana on the verge of tears.

“Cataleya….” Solana drops her purse onto the floor, uncaring of some of the contents that spill out. She’s immediately in front of her daughter, having bumped the nurse out of the way. Solana cradles the back of Leya’s head as her daughter cries into her shoulder, clutching onto her. 

Leya’s fear in this moment is palpable. 

“Mommy….” Leya sobs, Solana unable to hold back her own tears as she holds her daughter, comforts her, protects her in a way that she wasn’t able to. And that’s what also messes with her, has Solana several shades of perturbed.

She didn’t protect Leya.

“Baby….” Solana is able to pull back, to gently cup Leya’s face, a mixture of rage and hurt bubbling over seeing her daughter’s injuries. “Baby, who—who did this to you?” Solana sniffles, gently caressing the top of her uninjured cheek. “What happened, Leya?”

The slightest tremble of Leya’s bottom lip is followed by her mouth opening. Unfortunately, nothing comes out, because a steel, firm voice overflowing with faux sympathy interrupts.

“Mrs. Reigns, we are so—”

The speed in which Solana snaps her head around is matched only by the venom in her voice. “I didn’t ask you anything.” She hisses, eyes narrowed at the tall, older woman with far too many lines in her face for someone only in her forties. “I was speaking to my daughter.”

Dean Webber does in fact shut her mouth. Temporarily. “I understand, but—”

“Get out!” Solana snaps, her directive aimed at both the dean and the nurse, the latter of which who still stands, waiting to tend to Leya’s injuries. When no one moves, Solana repeats herself, tone even more aggressive. “I said get out.”

It’s the second issuance that brings about acquiescence. And when it’s just Solana and her daughter, Leya buries her face back into the comfort of Solana’s chest, her tiny hands clutching at Solana’s side.

“They hurt me, mommy.” Four words Solana prayed to never hear from any of her children, especially her daughters. Words that are eerily similar to what she told Xavier that day in the hospital. 

The day she was raped. 

“Who, baby?” It’s unknown to Solana just how she’s able to not crumble and break down in front of her little girl, because the mother of five hasn’t felt this triggered in some time. Years, even. “Who—who hurt you?”

Leya sniffles, answering in almost staccato-like pauses. “P–Paige, Deena, Tionna, and Tracy.” Solana commits every name to memory except one, because the last one she is very familiar with. “I—I went to the bathroom, and they—they came in after me and–and wouldn’t let me leave. They started calling me names and—and I told them to leave me alone, but—but Tracy p–p–punched me and pushed me down.” Leya cries, hiccupping in between her explanations. “They started k–kicking me and hitting me—and—and they pulled my hair and tried to cut it.”

Solana’s heart breaks listening to Leya recount what must have been a terrifying experience. “Oh, baby…”

“They took my purse and broke my phone,” Leya’s crying intensifies, Solana bringing her back into a warm, safe, hug, kissing her temple. “I’m sorry, mommy.”

But, those three words make Solana pull back with a look of horror. “For what, Leya?”

Leya wipes at her running nose with the sleeve of her shirt. “Cause I didn’t f—fight back hard enough.”

And, it’s that moment Solana’s heart truly breaks. 

It’s like looking at a younger version of herself, and that’s a sort of pain she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy.

Solana carefully and gingerly grips Leya’s face, uncaring of the blood seeping from Leya’s cut and collecting on her fingers after staining part of her shirt. “Sweetie, you listen to me, you did nothing wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. This is not your fault. Okay?” Solana doesn’t need a reply, just welcomes her baby back into her bosom. “Mommy’s so sorry this happened to you.”

Because, it shouldn’t have happened, but the fact that it did is something she cannot find herself able to reconcile with.

Solana holds her daughter for a few minutes before convincing Leya to let her finish tending to her injuries. Leya obliges and also adjusts the shirt of her uniform to show Solana her side that’s already starting to bruise up. Solana has to bite back what she really wants to say, because while her heart breaks for her daughter, another emotion is also building.

Anger.

She’s furious.

But, she doesn’t want to show that to Leya, doesn’t want to further traumatize her daughter. Solana, does, however, manage to gather her purse and items that spilled out, which includes her phone. A phone that she absolutely uses to quickly send a brief text to her husband. Two words.

Need you.

Solana knows she doesn’t need to say anything beyond that, and perhaps she didn’t need to say anything at all, because the time that passes between when she sent her text and Roman knocking softly before entering the nurse’s quarters is inhumanly fast. He had to have already been on his way.

But, it’s way his expression instantly dropped the second he sets his gaze on Leya.

And, Leya’s eyes naturally start watering looking at her dad. “Daddy….”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just takes two strides to close the distance between them. Instantly, she’s in his arms, crying all over again. Roman cradles the back of her head, looking over at Solana with an unspoken question.

What happened?

Solana wipes at her eyes, not wanting her emotions to influence Leya’s. “Some little girls jumped her in the bathroom.”

And just like that, Solana sees it. Sees the shift from Roman, the loving and attentive father and husband. She sees the murderous gleam in his brown eyes. 

She sees the Tribal Chief.

“Stay with her,” Solana directs, gently caressing Leya’s back before walking out, closing the door to allow them continued privacy. Solana maneuvers her way through the administrative office area, headed straight for Dean Webber’s office when she sees them. Four little girls, sitting down on the bench by the secretary’s desk, all but one of them white, and not a contrite expression in sight.

And suddenly, Solana’s blood is boiling, her attention completely redirected.

“You little bitches.” Gasps from around her, other adults, clearly taken back by Solana’s language that’s directed toward her daughter's attackers. Not that she cares. Not one bit. “Who the hell do you think you are to jump my child?” Solana points to herself, calling them out. “And you only did that shit, because you knew Lina wasn’t here to look out for her!”

A smirk from the redheaded one. Tracy. “You can’t talk to us like that.” She crosses her arms over chest, chin jutted. “We’re just kids.”

Solana has never understood the struggle her husband must feel in situations where he has to control his temper until this very moment. “No, you’re evil little bitches, that’s what you ar—”

“Excuse me?” One of the single most annoying voices Solana has ever had the displeasure of hearing. She turns to her side to see a middle aged couple, a man and woman, the woman with fried roots and an uneven tan. “How dare you speak to my daughter like that?”

A light goes off, Solana now completely uninterested in the demon and wholly invested in the creators of said demon.

“Your daughter assaulted my child,” Solana informs, unknowing and uncaring if they know just why they’ve been called to the school. Solana points to the back where the nurse’s station is. “My daughter is sitting back there, crying into her father’s chest because your daughter and these other little evil—”

The woman steps forward. “You watch your mouth!” 

“I’ll watch my mouth when you watch your bitch of a daughter!”

The man beside her, tall with a slightly muscular build moves in front of his wife, in Solana’s space. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to like that, huh?”

“Back the hell away from me,” Solana glares, fist forming at her side. She’s seeing red, the image of Leya’s crying, injured face all the fodder she needs to not cower, to not feel triggered by his obvious intimidation tactic. She swore years ago no man would ever hurt her, make her feel less than, and she still stands ten toes down on that.

However, he doubles down, stepping even closer, thin, non-existent lips turned into a taunting smirk. “And just what are you gonna do, you little cunt?” Solana will absolutely show him what she’s going to do. “What—” The opportunity is ripped away the moment Roman whisks past her, snatching the man by his collar, Solana only seeing Roman’s arm lift before the sickening sound of a crunch fills the small room. The man cries out, holding his nose, gasping and sputtering to say something that’s silenced by the way Roman slams him against the wall, face first, one arm twisted behind his back. Another sickening sound, a snapping almost, followed by Roman tugging on his arm, clearly dislocating it.

“Phil!” 

“Don’t you ever fucking disrespect my wife like that!” Roman growls, uncaring of the near whimpers of this Phil and the pleas of his wife. “I should fucking kill your ass right now!”

“Everyone, please!” Dean Webber’s voice enters the situation. Solana looks over to see she’s flanked by two police officers who, wisely, remain at her side instead of intervening. Unsurprising. 

The whole police department is on Bloodline payroll. They know the consequences of involving themselves in Bloodline business, and this has now most definitely morphed into Bloodline business. 

“I want them arrested,” Solana speaks up. Roman lets up on Phil, looking over at her as his wife falls to her knees, looking at his mangled arm, his daughter also crying. Good. She meets the eyes of the cops, pointing to the girls. “They assaulted my daughter and destroyed her property. I want them arrested.”

Roman moves his shoulders and comes to stand beside her. Protectively.

Dean Webber stammers. “Mr. and Mrs. Reigns, I understand you’re upset, and rightfully so, but these are just children—”

“You think we give a fuck about that?” Roman hisses, voicing his agreement. “We want them arrested.”

Webber is obviously, and smartly, trying to be mindful of her response. “I think we should all just sit down.”

“Fuck that,” Roman sneers, gesturing toward the rest of the also now crying, evil girls. “Arrest them.”

Solana crosses her arms and steps to the side with her husband as one officer goes to grab the blonde little girl, the other three huddling together as the officer goes to round them up.

They‘re all crying, blabbering about being sorry, asking for their parents, and other shit Solana, and especially Roman, couldn’t give two shits about. They didn’t care about Leya’s feelings when they cornered her, attacked her, and broke her phone, so they can go to hell.

—---------

The first few days are rough.

From the way Tama’s smile instantly dropped from his excitement at his field trip at the zoo the minute he saw his big sister was hurt to the anger that filled Lina when she saw and realized the same thing.

Both siblings experienced an amount of anger and confusion, but mostly anger, Lina holding her twin as they sat in bed together later that evening, vowing to “get them back.” The way Tama completely unloaded on his punching bag in one of the playrooms, telling his dad how “angry” he was that they hurt his sister. Koa and Kai, at two, were too young to process the gravity of what happened, so their reaction was a non-reaction.

And Leya, the kindest of the bunch, the most vulnerable, oscillated between sadness and anxiety. Feeling an abundance of hurt over what transpired and a tremendous amount of anxiety that it could happen again. Her OCD was triggered, Solana and Roman having to take her to see Brie four times in just three days.

She slept in the room with Solana and Roman, along with Lina and Tama, the former of which seeming to embark upon an almost expedited recovery from her sickness. Her desire for revenge too strong a warrior for even her coughs and sore throat.

Solana took a few days off, and Roman worked remotely, wanting to be available for all of the kids, especially Leya. 

“We can’t keep her home forever.” Solana knows her husband knows this, knows that they need to figure out how they’re going to proceed sooner rather than later. But, sitting out on the balcony of their master bedroom, their three oldest kids sleeping peacefully in their bed, as Solana reclines into Roman’s back, it’s the first time they’ve had to themselves in days to discuss the plan. So, she intends to take full advantage of that. “Any of them.”

Roman sighs, fingers gently gliding up and down Solana’s upper arm. He knows this. Knows all the kids need to continue school in some capacity after this weekend, after being kept home all this week following Monday’s incident. “I know.”

“We can send her to another school—”

“But, then we have to send all of them,” Roman finishes, already knowing the dilemma, just like he already knows there’s no way in hell the girls would go for being separated. Even Tama might have some objections. “And, I don’t think they want that.”

“Neither do I,” Solana agrees, looking up at him. “Leya….she does like it there for the most part. She likes her teacher, her friends there. It challenges her enough academically.” Solana lists the pros, frowning when something hits her.  “At least, she did.”

Because she’s now not so certain if this event has taken away her daughter’s previous satisfaction with her school. Sure, she’s had moments, some issues with other girls, but never to this extent, and it’s always been largely helped by Lina, her unofficial bodyguard and protector. 

Roman detects the hesitation without even needing to ask. “We’ll make sure those little bitches are expelled if she does go back..”

Solana pauses. “Eventually.”

At that, the Tribal Chief looks down at his wife. “Eventually?”

Sitting up, Solana does her best to answer without directly answering. “Lina wants revenge….” Even saying it aloud, Solana can hear the sound of Lina beating the hell out of her punching bag and fighting dummy, unleashing all of her anger. Practice. “I say we let her.”

Roman looks at his wife, partially surprised, partially turned on. “You know what she wants to do, right?”

Solana shrugs, answering almost nonchalantly. “She’ll do what we can’t.”

Roman makes a sound but offers no sort of disagreement, which he knows should come at no surprise to his wife. Because when it comes to Lina and her lack of fear and temper, Solana is usually the one making a comment or suggesting he talk to her. But, this is different. This is a different level of bullying outside of a few mean comments, to which Lina never hesitates to step in to defend her sister.

The same way she wants to defend her sister in a way Leya couldn’t. 

Hence why she was targeted.

Roman readies to offer another suggestion regarding just what they’re going to do about school when the door to their bedroom is opened, Leya standing there with her small hand on the doorknob.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

Solana sits up, reaching for her daughter. “Come here, baby.” 

Leya quietly shuts the door and shuffles over to her parents, climbing up on the sofa and situating herself between them. 

“Can’t sleep?” Roman asks, gently caressing her cheek, noticing and appreciative of the way the cut has started to heal.

Leya nods, offering no verbal response as she leans into him.

Solana casts Roman a look, mother and father sharing an unspoken conversation. “Leya….” Leya looks over at her mom, eyes a mixture of anxiety and sleepiness. “Daddy and I were talking, and we’re trying to figure out what we’re gonna do about school for you.” It’s not missed on her the increased anxiety that appears in Leya’s eyes. Solana asks in the most careful way, “baby, what do you want to do?”

Roman speaks up, needing his daughter to know. “Whatever you want to do is fine with us, Leya. You just have to tell us what that is.”

Because that’s what is most important. Not what Solana wants or what Roman wants, but what Cataleya wants.  

And, she seems to think about it, the wheels in her head turning as she mulls over how to answer. “I—I like my school,” is the response she finally supplies a good two minutes later. She looks between her parents. “And—and, I wanna stay in school with sissy and Tama.”

Another shared look between husband and wife. Confirmation of what they already knew. “Can—can I stay?”

“Of course, you can stay, baby.” Solana answers with a soft smile, informing. “Daddy and I will just make sure those girls are kicked out of school, so they can’t mess with you anymore.”

Roman also adds. “And, I’m going to make sure you have a guard with you at all times. Even in the bathroom, alright?” Because he’d already started going through a list of options for female guards to assign to Leya to avoid anything like this ever again. 

Relief flashes all across her face, as she asks in a low voice, “so…I can go back next week?”

Solana nods. “Next Tuesday.” Roman casts a subtly confused glance her way,  Solana explaining, “I want you to stay home with mommy on Monday. We can spend the day together. Just you and me. I’ll have your auntie Afia keep Koa and Kai.”

Leya’s lips lift into a wide smile as she shifts and hugs Solana, laying against her chest, Solana also smiling, kissing the top of her head. And as Leya revels in the chance to spend one on one time with her mom, Roman sits quietly, also pleased to see them have that time but also knowing the other reason Solana wants to keep just Leya home an extra day.

To give Lina the time she needs to handle business. One day to enact that vengeance she’s been bursting at the seams all week regarding, ready to dish out.

Ready for blood.

—-------

Lina plans it. 

She plans it more methodically than most seven year-olds. A plan contrived over a week of being home with her family, with her sister who didn’t deserve what happened to her.

Something Lina plans to make sure never happens again.

It starts with her wearing those shoes Aunt Naomi and Uncle Jimmy got her. The ones with the hard tips. 

Then there’s her binder. Sparkly, pink, with hearts all over it. 

Leya’s binder.

The binder that she managed to tape in and keep hidden a pair of scissors. 

And, the last thing with her plan is simply opportunity, arguably, the easiest part. 

All she has to do is “accidentally” not finish up her work by the time recess rolls around, resulting in her having to sit at one of the tables outside while the kids run around playing. Once outside, Lina easily and quickly finishes up the assignment she could have finished in under twenty minutes during class time, but she needed the excuse to bring her binder.

A binder she’s gripping with all her strength as she breaks away from the study table while Mrs. Carlyle is helping another student.

Fury fills her little body when she spots them, laughing and playing away like they did nothing. Like they didn’t hurt Leya. Her sister. 

The tips of Lina’s fingers are practically red by the time she reaches them.

And the minute she’s in close enough vicinity, Catalina Reigns wastes not a single second in taking that hardcover, sparkly binder and smashing the back of Tracy’s head. 

She had to start with her first.

Tracy cries out and falls to the ground as Lina does the same to Paige, Deena, and Tionna. Each stupid girl falls and whines instead of running, like they should, because their stupidity is Lina’s advantage. 

Lina jumps on top of Tracy and punches her in her face, aiming for her nose. She grabs her by her shoulders and slams her into the ground repeatedly. “Don’t you ever touch my sissy, you mean bitch!”

Tracy continues to cry as Lina transitions to the other girls, a mixture of kicks with her hard ass shoes and more swinging of the binder on top of the now screaming and bleeding girls. Lina knows she doesn’t have much time before a teacher separates them, hence why she reaches for the scissors and starts wildly cutting off the girls hair with no rhyme or reason.

She cuts Tracy’s the shortest.

She looks like Angelica's doll, Cynthia, from Rugrats.

“Hey!” A boy’s voice can be heard before Lina is shoved off Tracy by another boy around her age. “Leave her—”

He’s cut off when the sudden and strong spear knocks him away.  Tama pins the older boy to the ground, screaming, “Don’t touch my sister!” His threat is followed by a punch to the boy’s face. 

Lina doesn’t allow herself to be distracted. She’s waited too long for this. She goes back to attacking the girls, shouting with all the rage in her little body, “nobody messes with my family!”

And, she means it. With everything in her. 

With her sister.

With her brothers.

With her mom or even her dad.

No one comes after anyone with the last name Reigns. 

Period.

By the time the teachers and school resources officers get to Tama and Lina, the damage is done. The kids are on the ground, bleeding, in pain, noses broken, wrists sprained, hair destroyed.

The school nurses are called, someone also says something about calling 911, but neither Reigns kids care. The two simply share a look of pride and fist bump as they’re escorted to the office.

And, it’s in the office where their parents find them, on the bench, sitting together, the only sign of what occurred being their uniforms that are now disheveled, not an ounce of guilt to be found in either one of them.

Solana and Roman can admit they’re both a bit surprised to see Tama. Lina? Not at all. They knew she was planning to get her receipt. They just didn’t expect Tama to also take advantage of the opportunity. 

But, he most certainly did, informing his dad who walks over and crouches down in front of them, “some boy tried to push Lina.”

Already knowing, having to hold back his smile, Roman asks, “and what’d you do, buddy?”

Tama, however, doesn’t hesitate to smile, answering proudly, “I punched him in the face.”

At that, Roman chuckles, fist bumping his son. “That’s my boy.” He turns his gaze onto Lina. “Do I want to know what you did?”

Lina, however, simply lifts her chin, asserting, “they got what they deserved.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

Dean Webber comes out of her office, face flushed and flustered, “Mr. and Mrs. Reigns, we need to have a serious—”

“We want all those kids expelled from the school,” Solana cuts her off, arms crossed, voice even. “Effective today.”

The older woman’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?” She scoffs, gesturing to a still unbothered Lina and Tama. “Your children just brutally assaulted several students, and you want me to expel the—”

“You think my kids caused a scene?” Roman steps forward, voice every bit as menacing and threatening as he intends. “Wait till you see what I do if I drop them off to school tomorrow and those little fuckers aren’t gone.”

 Because what Lina and Tama did is child’s play, and while he would never put his hands on a child, their parents are a different story.

He’ll make all those little bitches orphans and sleep just as fine. 

Dean Webber gulps. “I—I’ll alert the parents.”

Solana grabs her husband by his forearm, pulling him away. “That’s what we thought.” She gestures for her kids, Tama and Lina running over while Roman orders for the kids backpacks and lunch boxes to be brought to the office. 

The kids hug their mom, right as Roman informs, “we’re gonna pick up your sister and brothers and take you all out to eat.” He chuckles when their faces light up, already knowing what comes next. “Ice cream afterwards?”

[cherryeclipses]

the little things

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The moments between hunts where you and Dean can pretend to be a normal couple

Fluff, implied smut, no gender mentioned, Dean is a softie, 1 use of Y/N (also im horrible at writing smut sorry babes), wrote in like 30 minutes so not my best work...

Word count: 1.3k

⛧⃝

Dating Dean was tough at times, he was stubborn, self-sabotaging, and put everyone else's needs before his own. But the most difficult part was the fact that you were both hunters. It left barely any time to connect and do normal couple 'things.' Occasionally there were rare moments in between hunts where you could relax and even have a little fun, these were the moments you two cherished, even if it was just five minutes.

⛧⃝

You sighed, searching your pockets for the motel room key, you had just a finished a week long hunt solo taking out a small nest of vampires. As you pushed the door open, longing for a hot shower and bed to sleep in, you froze, whipping your shotgun out of your waistband. "Woah, woah, it's just me sweetheart." A familiar voice drawled. You flipped the light switch, "Dean?!" "You expecting any other men?" He chuckled as you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug. You hadn't seen your boyfriend in nearly 2 months. He had been off with Sam, searching for their father and you had been busy with your own hunts. "What are you doing here?" You pulled away to get a good look at his handsome face. "I came for the scenery." He joked, "I came to see you idiot, what else?" "Did you find John?" You questioned. "Ah, it's a long story. A lot has happened since I spoke to you last week. But don't worry about that, I don't want to talk about work tonight." He leant down to kiss your lips, you melted into him, he smelt divine like old leather and vanilla. Your hands travelled up his chest, holding onto the man as if he was about to disappear. Nothing would be able to pull the two of you off each other, except the low growl of your stomach. Dean pulled away from you and your cheeks blushed. "C'mon let's order some food then we can get to the fun stuff." Dean laughed.

The two of you were sprawled out on the old motel couch, fast food wrappers littered the coffee table. You glanced over at your boyfriend, his eyes glued to the TV. It felt so nice to have him back, as much as you were glad him and Sam were getting along again you selfishly missed seeing him everyday. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." Dean said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Maybe I will." You poked your tongue out at the boy. "I really have missed you Dean, thank you for surprising me." "It's nothing, honestly I couldn't stand being away from you a minute longer. Was driving Sammy crazy." You giggled, leaning your head on his muscular shoulder, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy, you had almost forgotten how exhausted you were. Deans hands playing with your hair absentmindedly, sending you to sleep.

⛧⃝

The sound of Dean softly humming ACDC woke you, you sat up straight in your seat, your neck was stiff from leaning against the side of the impala for hours. You had been driving for what felt like forever, leaving before the sun had set, it was now pitch black outside, you looked out the window to see nothing but bright stars in the sky and no other cars on the road ahead. "Hey there sleepy head." Dean teased. "Hey yourself." You looked behind you to see Sam passed out in the backseat, snoring softly. "How far away are we?" "Almost there, another hour maybe." Dean mused, taking your hand in his, running his thumb gently over your knuckles. As much as you hated long drives it was nice to have some downtime with Dean. You leaned forward to turn up the music slightly before placing a kiss on Dean's cheek, his stubble prickling your lips. You softly moved your way down his cheek, placing gentle kisses along his neck. Dean moaned quietly, tilting his head so you had better access to his neck, eyes still focused on the road. You took the encouragement and travelled further down his neck, lingering on his collarbone. He shuffled in his seat, you could tell he was getting worked up but trying to play it cool. You smiled and pulled away, returning to your spot in the passenger seat. "Can you guys not wait until we get to the motel?" Sam groaned from the backseat. You laughed, feeling sorry for the poor guy "sorry Sam. hands off from now on, I promise." You held your hands up in surrender. Dean didn't say a word but put his foot down on the accelerator, determined to get there as fast as his Baby would let him.

⛧⃝

"Hey Bobby, where's the sugar?" You called from the kitchen. "Second cupboard from the left." He answered from the doorway. You had spent the weekend at Bobby's, helping him with research for Sam and Dean. You sang quietly to yourself as you zipped round Bobby's kitchen, the boys were on their way back and you wanted them to come home to some real food. It was also a distraction for you from all the reading and worrying you had done all weekend long. "Would you let me help you?" Bobby asked. "Nope. There's more beer in the fridge, so go sit down, relax, and don't read any more damn lore books." The old man chuckled, nodding in response and leaving you to do what you needed.

"Honey, we're home!" Dean called out as he and Sam walked through the front door. "Hey Bobby, where's Y/N?" "In the kitchen." Bobby answered the eldest Winchester brother. "What are you -" Dean was cut off when he saw the spread on the dining table. The small table was full with all kinds of food, steak, vegetables, salad, fries, you name it, it was probably there. "Hey - woah did you spend all weekend cooking?" Sam asked as he walked in to the kitchen, eyes wide. "I think I'm gonna marry you" Dean faked a tear as he pulled you in for a kiss. "I thought you deserved a nice meal for once and honestly I was sick of reading! So sit, all of you and dig in. Please." As the men settled in for dinner the oven timer dinged. "More food?" Bobby asked, surprised. "Oh um, it's actually a surprise for Dean." You said, standing up to attend to the oven. You returned holding a steaming hot cherry pie. Dean's jaw dropped, "Have I ever told you how much I love you." He asked stunned. "Maybe once or twice." You shrugged.

⛧⃝

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the torn motel curtains, you rolled over, noticing Dean wasn't beside you. You stretched out across the mattress, contemplating going back to sleep until you heard the sound of the shower running. Sleepily you made your way to the bathroom, tossing your oversized shirt (the t shirt Dean wore yesterday) across the room and removing your pyjama pants once you were in the bathroom. You pulled back the shower curtain to reveal your boyfriend, taking a moment to revel in his beauty, his tan skin glistening with water droplets. "Good morning." He said with a goofy grin. "Morning" You replied, stepping into the shower and placing a soft kiss to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, gently massaging his scalp Dean hummed with pleasure, his hands travelling down your damp body, squeezing your hips and bringing you closer towards him. You slowly pulled away leaning your head back to allow the water to run through your hair. Dean took the opportunity to sprinkle kisses along your neck and down your chest. You let a moan escape your throat, he pushes you against the shower wall continuing to kiss you all the way down your body, lingering where you were most sensitive before standing up to meet your gaze. "I should wake up early more often." He mumbles, his voice deep, sending shivers down your spine. "I think we should make a habit of this." You say with a grin. Dean's hands find their way to your waist again "I agree." he says with a kiss before spinning you around to face the wall.

⛧⃝

[bunbun-mochi]

Soothing to Sleep

Caleb x MC (in a relationship)

Warning: Fluff, lots of fluff.

Word Count: 2019, no proofreading

Preview: Caleb had been tired from all the work he'd been doing as a Colonel. You can tell the dark circle under his eyes so you decided to pamper him and help him sleep.

Note: Wrote this instead of studying. Gonna ace that exam. Colonel Caleb, send me luck. Lots of it.

Tagging: @madam8, @gavin3469

Caleb scowled as he read the reports. The more reports he read, the more ridiculous it gets. Ever since he came back from the deepspace tunnel routine yesterday, the work just seems neverending. As soon as he finishes one stack of paperwork, Liam just walks in with another stack of paperwork to finish. To make matters worse, his subordinates don't seem to behave. Every now and then, Liam would report in trouble from the lower ranks. In most cases, they could've solved the problem if they had done their job. As if on cue, Liam called in.

"Colonel," Liam's voice rang in Caleb's earpiece. "The captain of the 8th squadron asked for your presence. He said there had been a problem among the soldiers."

"What sort of problem?" Caleb asked. It sounded more of a frustration than a question.

"I'm not sure. He said a fight had happened." Liam answered.

"I'll be right there," Caleb said before ending the call. He sighed loudly before walking out of his office. This better be good.

Caleb's eyes twitched slightly when he walked to the so-called problem. Four soldiers were in a fistfight, taunting each other, while the other soldiers cheered. He glared at the captain of this group, "I'm pretty sure your job specifically says that you take care of any fights within your squadron?"

The captain hung his head as if feeling shameful, "I tried, but I don't have the capabilities-"

"No capabilities to stop a fight?" Caleb clicked his tongue. He walked toward the fight.

"Stop fighting this instant." A cold voice sliced through the air, and many soldiers who were cheering immediately stopped to turn to see that the colonel himself had arrived at the scene. The crowd near Caleb slowly moved away, either trying to allow the colonel to walk toward the fight or moving away from him to prevent repercussions.

Even with the colonel's orders and the silence of the crowd, the four soldiers did not back down from the fight. Caleb's scowl deepened. In a matter of seconds, the four soldiers are either on their backs or their knees with the colonel looking down at them. The soldiers around them dropped their jaws to see their own colonel just singlehandedly stopped a fight.

"You five," Caleb looked at the four soldiers on the ground then to the captain, "Office. Now."

Without another word, Caleb left the scene to go back into his office, leaving the lingering coldness of his presence on the scene.

Caleb glowered at the five people present in his office.

"If I see you four in another fight-"

"Sir, he attacked-" One of the soldiers tried to defend himself.

"Do not interrupt me." Although his face looked calm, his voice sounded extremely threatening and the whole room felt like it had dropped several degrees. "I expect you four to be on your best behavior. I better not get any reports about you four. Do you understand?"

The soldiers quickly nodded their heads. They didn't know which was better, being yelled at by a superior or being disciplined by this colonel who looked like he would skin them all before murdering them.

"You're dismissed." The soldiers scrambled out the door. When the captain made an attempt to leave, Caleb called out, "You stay."

The captain gulped before standing straight before the colonel.

"The next time you decide to call me to solve this type of issue for you, I expect your badge on my desk promptly."

"Yes, sir."

"Get out."

The captain didn't need to be told twice as he left the office as soon as Caleb told him to leave. Caleb sighed and rubbed his temple. The workload had been ridiculous. As the time ticked on, the entire building slowly turned quiet. All the soldiers and officers had already left work. Caleb checked the time to see it had been nearly midnight. He sighed before heading out of his office to call it a day.

Caleb wasn't particularly excited to go back home. Whenever you weren't in Skyhaven, his house felt empty and lonely. However, today, the house seemed a bit more lively than usual. Several lamps were turned on and he heard a voice and movement inside one of the bedrooms.

"Ugh, I swear I brought some over!" Caleb immediately recognized that voice belonged to you.

He quickly shut the door before calling out to her, "MC?" He quickly stripped out of his uniform that his lover disliked so much.

Without missing a single beat, you ran out of your bedroom and hugged him, "Caleb! Welcome home!"

"I didn't know you were staying." He hugged you back, tightly. "I would've prepared dinner."

You gasped, "Ooo, that does sound good. It's okay, Caleb. I didn't even know I was getting a few days off. Captain Jenna told me to take the weekends off since there have been way too many people to call in for the shift this weekend. So I thought to spend my weekend with you!"

All the fatigue Caleb felt back in the office immediately left him. He felt anew and recharged. You leaned in closer and narrowed your eyes. It was hard to see, but you could see a faint dark circle under his eyes, it's hard to tell without getting very close.

"Caleb?" you frowned, "are you alright?"

Caleb raised an eyebrow, "Yes. Why?"

"Well," You gently caressed the skin under his eyes. "You look tired."

Caleb sighed, "When did you become this observant."

"If I'm not that observant then what kind of hunter would I be."

Caleb chuckled as you used a similar quote he had used before. "Alright, fine, fine. The paperwork was a handful, but don't worry. I'm fiiiiine."

You narrowed her eyes, slightly suspicious, "I don't believe you."

"What should I do to make you believe me?"

You beamed, "I have something in mind."

"I'm all ears."

"No explaining, just listen to my instructions."

"Yes, colonel." Caleb teased.

"Pipsqueak. When you said you had something in mind, this is not what I'm expecting." Caleb nervously chuckled.

You squeezed a bottle of shampoo onto your hand, "shush. Let me take care of you." You lathered the shampoo onto his hair and gently massaged his scalp. "You took care of me many times before, let me do it at least once." You poked his cheek, "Lay down, I can't reach you."

Caleb obediently did what you asked and lay his head back. "I never thought there would be a day where I get pampered instead of the one doing the pampering."

You chuckled, "Well, expect more pampering in the future. Close your eyes."

You inwardly chuckled when Caleb once again obediently did what you asked, like a cute little puppy. "Alright, I'm done with your hair. Finish washing yourself, and I'll wait for you outside."

Caleb smiled, "What else do you have in store for me?"

"You'll see," You said before closing the door.

It didn't take long for Caleb to finish washing. In fact, it wasn't even three minutes, and he was already done, already dressed in his pajamas.

"Caleb, what the fuck? I was just in there."

"Yes, and I'm out here now."

"In three minutes?"

Caleb looked at you in confusion. "Yes?"

"How?"

Caleb shrugged, "Sometimes things happen in the fleet, so I gotta shower quickly, or else my subordinates would see me doing drills naked."

You blinked, trying to process it before laughing at the idea of naked Caleb barking orders.

Caleb playfully narrowed his eyes, "I see your imagination is going wild."

You wiped my tears while gesturing him to sit down, "I'll dry your hair."

Caleb sat down and looked at you questionably. "I think you're trying to start something."

You grabbed the hair dryer and turned it on, "You're overthinking it." While drying his hair, you tried to fluff up his hair as much as possible, trying to give him a new hairstyle. The most ridiculous style you can ever think of.

"What are you doing?" Caleb asked, clearly knowing what your intentions are.

You giggled, "Nothing, just trying to make you fluffy."

"I'm not a dog." The way Caleb acted, he might as well be born in the year of the dog.

It didn't take long for his hair to dry. Sadly, his hair did not fluff up the way you wanted it to be. Guess his hair is just as stubborn as their owner.

You tossed the air dryer to the side and pushed Caleb toward you. "Lean on me, let me massage your shoulders." You pressed down on his shoulder, kneeling around his tense muscles. You can feel Caleb feeling relaxed because he's starting to put his entire weight on you. After several minutes, you feel like he's going to nod off, so you poke his cheek, "Let's do your face."

"What's wrong with my face?" Caleb sounded slightly sleepy.

You rolled your eyes, "Nothing, but it'll feel nice. I promise."

Caleb slowly stood up, "Sure sure. You're the boss."

You dragged Caleb into his bedroom, and made sure he was nice and comfortable under the blanket before putting on the face mask.

"You know, I remember when you forced me to wear face masks while we were in high school. You even used me as a guinea pig for your skincare and makeup."

"Do you not like them?"

"No, I like them."

"Good, now close your eyes. Perhaps you'll achieve what all women wanted: a glass skin."

"If I have that, I'd lose respect from all my subordinates."

"Good," You sat next to him. "Maybe you won't appear that scary under that uniform." You grabbed a book that he was reading and started to hum a tune.

The book Caleb is reading is a lot different than what you would read. It's all about the different models of a plane. Most of which you don't even understand.

"Caleb, what would your next career plan be if you didn't become a pilot?" Would he be an engineer instead? You waited for an answer but no response from Caleb. "Caleb?" You looked over at him to see him fast asleep. His eyes are closed and his breaths are even.

You smiled at his innocent sleeping face as you slowly peeled the mask from his face. "I wish I had your skin. One face mask and you look several years younger."

You quietly and slowly slid out of the bed to turn off all the lights before sliding back under the blanket with him. "Good night."

The first thing that stirred Caleb awake was the smell. The smell smelled... delicious. He can smell the egg, the butter, and the meat. Then he heard a tune, the same tune he heard last night before he passed out. He slowly blinked awake, allowing his eyes to adjust to the morning light.

He slowly left his bed and followed the smell and the music that led him toward the kitchen. He smiled as he watched you doing small dances as you placed the food onto the plate. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheeks which made you jump.

"Caleb! You scared me!"

Caleb chucked, "Good morning, love."

"Good morning. Slept well?"

Caleb nodded. He slept very well last night. The first time where he didn't wake himself up from nightmares.

"I made breakfast. I also made your lunch, if you're interested. If not, I'll just eat it my-"

"Thank you, I'll take them all."

You smiled, "Want me to make dinner tonight?"

Caleb hummed, "Yes, please."

Caleb felt like he was living in paradise. No matter how much work he needed to do, as long as he know that you'll be the one welcoming him home, work doesn't sound as bad.

Boy, was he wrong. The moment he got into his office, he was ready to murder every single person in this building. Because the first damn thing that happened as soon as he went to work, an emergency happened. Because someone can't read a fucking manual, causing a domino effect which then made it into an emergency.

Dividers, headers, banners, and templates used on this post are from @uzmacchiato

[xoxo-lixie]

Gloss and Glances ᝰ.ᐟ

Paring- Felix x Reader

Summary- Backstage, Felix pouts for attention as Y/N, Stray Kids’ makeup artist and his girlfriend, applies his lip gloss. Frustrated by her focus on work, he kisses her, smudging the gloss

The backstage area of the arena was alive with energy—stylists rushing between stations, cords snaking across the floor, and the distant echo of fans chanting outside. Under the bright dressing room lights, Felix sat patiently in a chair, though “patiently” might have been a stretch. His foot tapped lightly against the floor, not out of nerves for the upcoming performance, but for an entirely different reason.

Y/N, Stray Kids’ trusted makeup artist and Felix’s not-so-secret girlfriend, was busy organizing her kit. Her hands moved quickly, adjusting palettes and brushes, her focus sharp. She’d already done touch-ups on most of the members, and now it was Felix’s turn.

Finally.

Y/N approached with her usual professional demeanor, her eyes scanning his face with practiced precision. She picked up the small tube of clear lip gloss from her kit and uncapped it, not noticing the way Felix’s eyes had softened the moment she stepped closer.

“Alright, stay still,” she murmured, her thumb gently resting under his chin to steady his face.

Felix obeyed, but his pout had already started to form, subtle at first. His gaze never left her face, drinking in the details—the slight crinkle between her brows when she concentrated, the way her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she focused. She was always like this when she worked: calm, meticulous, almost too professional for his liking.

He wanted her attention—not the kind she gave to every member, but his attention.

“You know,” Felix said quietly, his voice low and slightly playful, “I think you like this gloss more than you like me.”

Y/N’s hand paused mid-swipe, her eyes flickering up to meet his. “Don’t be dramatic.” She fought the small smile threatening to break through her professional facade.

Felix, not one to back down, pushed his pout out further. “I’m serious. You’re focusing so hard on my lips, but not because you like them. It’s just… work to you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, finishing the last swipe of gloss on his bottom lip. She leaned back slightly, inspecting her work. “First of all, I do like your lips. They’re symmetrical, soft, and easy to work with.”

Felix’s pout deepened. “That sounds like something you’d say about a good makeup brush.”

She couldn’t help it—she laughed, the sound light and genuine, making Felix’s heart flutter. But she didn’t respond with words. Instead, she reached out with a tissue to clean up a tiny smudge near the corner of his mouth.

Felix caught her wrist gently before she could pull away. His touch was soft, but it sent a current of warmth straight through her.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice softer now, no teasing undertone—just sincere, raw affection.

Her heart stuttered. She met his gaze, expecting another playful remark, but instead, she was met with eyes filled with warmth, the kind of look that melted away the noise around them.

“I miss you,” he whispered simply.

Y/N felt her breath hitch. They’d been so busy lately—schedules packed, rehearsals endless. Even though she was always near him, it wasn’t the same. She couldn’t respond like she wanted to, not in the middle of work, surrounded by staff and members.

But Felix didn’t care about any of that.

Without another word, he leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft, tentative at first, as if asking for permission. The faint sweetness of the gloss lingered between them, but neither of them cared if it smudged.

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, stunned by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into the kiss, her hand instinctively finding its place on his cheek. It was brief, maybe only a few seconds, but it held everything they hadn’t had the chance to say aloud.

When Felix finally pulled back, his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners from the soft smile spreading across his face.

“Now,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against hers, “that’s attention.”

Y/N was breathless, her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the chaotic energy of the backstage environment. She tried to muster a response, something witty to break the tension, but all she managed was a soft, shaky laugh.

“You just ruined your gloss,” she whispered.

Felix grinned, unbothered. “Guess you’ll have to fix it.”

Y/N shook her head, her cheeks flushed, but she picked up the gloss again. This time, as she leaned in to reapply it, Felix didn’t pout or complain. He just watched her with the same loving look, his heart full, knowing that even in the chaos, they’d always find small moments like this—where it was just the two of them, gloss and all.

[croxxbow13]

Not Tonight

Summary: Daryl and Rosita were both affected by Denise’s death, whether they want to talk about it or not. So they look for comfort in the bottle of a whiskey bottle.

Word Count: 6k

Notes: takes place immediately following Denise’s death in Season 6 Episode 14: Twice As Far. During the Alexandria era, right before the Savior arc. Rewatched the episode last night and seeing these two together and the opportunity just presented itself. I feel like they deserved it lol

Warnings: 18+ MDNI - language, consensual sex, alcohol consumption, slight angst.

I asked you to come with me because you're brave like my brother and sometimes you actually make me feel safe.

Daryl’s lungs burned. His arms ached, every muscle pulling tight with each motion as he drove the shovel into the dirt. He felt the beads of sweat as they rolled down his brow and into his eyes. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

And I wanted you here because you're alone. Probably for the first time in your life.

His fingers clenched around the wooden handle, rough and splintered, gripping it tight like it was the only thing holding him together. Carol stood across from him. He could feel her eyes on him, but she didn’t speak. She knew he wouldn’t talk about it even if she asked.

And because you're stronger than you think you are, which gives me hope that maybe I can be, too.

Denise’s words played through his mind as he shoveled harder. Faster. As if he could dig the sound of them from his memory.

He gritted his teeth and shoveled another heap into the hole. Then another. The late afternoon sun was hot on his back and he welcomed the feeling of the way it burned through his shirt. The ache in his muscles gave him something to focus on.

Something other than the gnawing weight in his chest.

And it makes me sick that you guys aren't even trying because you're strong and you're smart and you're both really good people, and if you don't wake up... and face your…

The angry growl that rumbled up from his chest sounded too far away in his own ears as he threw the shovel to the ground, the metal clanging off the dirt and stone. His breath was ragged as he stormed off towards the house. He had to get out of here. Away from… this. The walls that were supposed to be a promise of safety and security felt like a prison cell. One that he had to escape. Now. He didn’t want to stay in this cage.

Not tonight.

The streets of Alexandria were quiet. Too damn quiet. Usually, people were out, talking on their porches, walking around. Now, it was like the whole place was holding its breath.

Daryl barely noticed. His boots hit the pavement hard, his steps quick and focused. He took the porch steps two at a time and pushed the front door open without bothering to shut it. He wasn’t staying long enough for that to matter anyways.

Inside was just as quiet.

He moved straight to his room, peeling his blood and dirt stained shirt over his head and tossing it into the corner before grabbing a fresh t-shirt from the pile on the chair and pulling it on.

The bottle he had come back for was exactly where he’d left it the night he’d put it there– shoved to the back of the kitchen counter. His fingers tightened around the neck of the glass as he turned for the door.

His crossbow was slung over his shoulder in one fluid motion, a practiced habit. He was already stepping through the doorway, ready to keep moving, when something caught his eye.

Rosita.

She was walking up the steps, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her head tipped slightly downward like she was deep in thought. The way she held herself– like she was looking for something, or maybe running from it– was too familiar.

"Hey," she said quietly, but questioningly. Like she didn’t expect him to be there.

Daryl barely lifted his head. "Hey," he mumbled back, gripping the bottle a little tighter.

She stopped on the step just below him, rocking back slightly on her heel. Her eyes flicked over him, reading him the way she always did—quick, precise, like she could see straight through whatever bullshit he was trying to put up.

"You good?" she asked, tilting her chin up just slightly, like she already knew the answer.

He worked his lip between his teeth for a moment before nodding, his gaze dropping to the porch.

Rosita let out a breath, shifting her weight, and glancing at the bottle in his hand. She made a small, unimpressed noise in the back of her throat, not quite a scoff but close.

"Where you going?"

Daryl shrugged, adjusting his grip on the bottle. “Don’t know.”

She studied him for a second, then tipped her head. “Mind if I come?”

He finally looked at her. She didn’t look away.

He could’ve said no. Could’ve walked past her, left her standing there. But he didn’t.

There was something else in her expression that he didn’t catch before. Something sad… not quite a plea, but something buried deep below the surface.

“Nah” he muttered.

Rosita gave a small nod, a barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, and then she moved. She didn’t wait for him, didn’t ask again—just stepped off the porch, heading toward the truck like she’d already decided. Like it wasn’t up for debate.

Daryl let out a breath and followed.

Neither of them spoke as they walked out of the gate and climbed into the truck. The engine rumbled to life, and just like that, they were gone.

—

The truck sat in a clearing on the edge of the quarry. What was once filled and brimming with walkers now just housed a few dozen stragglers wandering aimlessly around the bottom. Their dirty, dust-covered figures moving in and out of shadows in the quickly fading sun.

Daryl stood by the back of the truck, his arms resting over the side as he swirled the contents in the bottle before turning it up. The whiskey burned its way down, warm and steady, already starting to blur his edges.

He welcomed it.

Rosita sat on the hood, one knee bent, her boot propped against the metal. She didn’t say anything, just watched him as he took another swig before passing the bottle her way. She took it without hesitation, tipping it back, letting the burn settle into her chest before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The air between them was thick with something unspoken, but neither of them moved to fill the silence. The only sounds were the distant rustling of trees and the distant, hollow moans of the walkers below.

Daryl exhaled sharply, shifting his weight. The alcohol was working its way through him, dulling things just enough to take the edge off. He stared out over the quarry, watching the way the last bit of daylight slipped behind the treeline.

He kicked a rock, watching it skitter and disappear over the edge, a small cloud of dust rising up under his boot.

Rosita let out a quiet breath, rolling the bottle between her palms. She hesitated for a moment before she spoke.

“I saw him go into Sasha’s house.”

Her voice was steady, but there was a roughness underneath it, something raw. She took another swig from the bottle.

Daryl didn’t react. Just let the words sit there, pressing down like an extra weight on his shoulders.

Rosita scoffed under her breath, shaking her head slightly. “I guess I already knew.” She said, quieter this time.

She walked over to stand beside him, peering over the edge, her eyes tracking the slow-moving walkers below. Without looking at him, she reached out and handed him the bottle.

Daryl took it carefully and lifted it to his lips. The whiskey burned on the way down, but he welcomed it, letting it settle deep in his chest.

Rosita crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Guess I was just stupid enough to hope I was wrong.”

Daryl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling through his nose. He didn’t have anything to say to that. Not anything that’d make a damn bit of difference anyways.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just stood there and appreciated the rare silence as they passed the bottle back and forth.

The night was creeping in, the last bit of light stretching thin across the trees. The air was cooling, but the whiskey kept the warmth settled in his gut. Daryl blinked slow, his ears buzzing, a steady thrumming setting in behind his temples. Not enough to knock him down, but enough to make his limbs feel heavy, his edges dull.

He let out a quiet breath, then turned back towards the truck, moving to the tailgate. He climbed up, sitting on the edge with his legs hanging off, his fingers rubbing absentmindedly at the glass bottle before taking another drink.

Rosita stayed where she was for a moment, watching him. Then, without a word, she walked over, stopping in front of him. She tilted her head, watching him take another drink. “I was gonna leave,” she admitted. “After everything. Just… go.”

Daryl didn’t look at her, just fidgeted with the bottle in his hands, his thumbnail picking at the edge of the label.

He knew the feeling.

“But I didn’t,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “And now, I don’t even know why.”

She reached out for the bottle, and as she took it from him, her fingers brushed against his—just for a second, just enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin against his knuckles.

Daryl didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Just watched as she brought the bottle to her lips, tilting her head back for a slow drink. He shifted his weight on the tailgate. “Ain’t always so easy to just walk away.”

Rosita smirked, but it was small and tired. “No. It’s not.” She looked at him for a moment before she asked, “You ever gonna leave?”

Daryl worked his jaw, staring past her toward the treeline. He didn’t answer right away, just let the question settle, rolling it over in his mind.

Rosita didn’t push. Just waited, quiet, studying him like she was trying to read something written beneath his skin. The slight sway in her stance made it obvious that she was feeling the effects of the liquor as much as he was.

Finally, he exhaled, slow and measured. “Don’t recon I got anywhere else to go.” His voice was low, rough around the edges.

Rosita held his gaze for a second longer, then gave a small nod. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Same.”

She took another sip, then handed the bottle back. This time, when their fingers touched, it lingered. Just for a second longer than before.

Daryl felt it. The warmth of her skin against his, the way her fingers curled just slightly before letting go. He swallowed, looking down at the bottle as he took it from her.

Rosita shifted her weight, crossing her arms over her chest, her boot scuffing against the dirt. “Sometimes I think I should’ve just gone,” she admitted. “Before it got messy. Before it got complicated.”

Daryl huffed, shaking his head. “Ain’t never not messy.”

She let out a quiet laugh, the sound dry, almost bitter. “Yeah. No shit.”

They fell silent again, the night stretching out around them. The whiskey was working its way through him, muting things just enough to make the quiet feel comfortable. His ears still hummed, the edges of everything a little softer.

Rosita glanced up at the sky, the stars just starting to burn through the darkness. “Ever think about it?” she asked. “What’s out there? Past all this?”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth, fingers dragging along the stubble on his jaw. “Used to.”

Rosita watched him for a second, like she was waiting for more, but he didn’t offer anything else. Instead, he just took another slow drink, letting the burn settle deep.

She exhaled through pursed lips as she turned and braced her hands on the edge of the tailgate and pulled herself up beside him. The metal groaned as she situated– their shoulders close, but not quite touching. She stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles, her boot knocking lightly against his.

Daryl glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

Rosita sighed, tipping her head back slightly. “I think about it all the time,” she admitted. “Just getting in a car. Driving ‘til the road runs out.”

Daryl huffed a faint laugh, staring at the bottle in his hands. “What’s stoppin’ ya?”

She looked at him then, really looked at him. The corner of her mouth twitched, something almost like a smirk, but there was something else behind it. Something quieter.

Rosita didn’t answer.

Instead, she reached for the bottle again, her fingers grazing his as she took it from him. He watched her as she took another swig, her throat moving with the swallow before she exhaled through her nose. The bottle lowered, resting loosely between her hands, her fingers tapping against the glass in a slow, aimless rhythm.

Daryl rubbed his palms against his jeans, the warmth from the whiskey settling in his gut. She lifted the bottle again, took a drink and then handed it back. This time, when their fingers met, it wasn’t just a brush– it was slower, heavier. A beat too long. Neither one of them moved right away.

Daryl swallowed, his throat suddenly dry for reasons that had nothing to do with the whiskey.

Rosita’s eyes flicked to his– just a glance, quick, unreadable– before she pulled her hand away and settled it back in her lap.

The night stretched around them, quiet except for the rustling trees and the chorus of crickets and cicadas that filled the warm summer air.

Daryl rolled the bottle in his hands, his pulse thudding a little harder against his ribs. “You ever gonna leave?”

Rosita took a second, her lips pressing into a line as she gave him a gentle shrug. “Don’t know,” she admitted. “Sometimes I feel like it would be easier out there.”

Daryl hummed low in his throat, lifting the bottle to his lips. He could feel the weight of her eyes on him, the same way he could still feel the ghost of her touch against his skin. It made him restless. Like he needed to move.

He slid forward, his feet thudding the ground, his balance a little uncertain at first. The ground seemed to shift beneath him, so he put a steadying hand on the truck until he was sure his legs wouldn’t betray him. He thought that his small stumble went unnoticed, until she let out a small laugh.

He shot her a look and she smirked, tipping her chin toward him. “You good?” But the way she said it was in that low throaty tone that made it almost sound like a purr falling from her lips.

Daryl grunted a soft laugh, shaking his head lightly, more at himself than her. “M’fine.”

Rosita hummed like she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached for the bottle again. This time, she didn’t wait for him to hand it over, just plucked it from his grip, her fingers sliding against his as she did.

That damn touch again. Fleeting, but warm. Enough to make something coil low in his stomach.

She took a drink, long and slow, before lowering the bottle and licking a stray drop from her bottom lip. The movement was unintentional, effortless, but his eyes followed it anyways.

She was leaned to the side, propped back on one hand, the bottle clutched in the other. Perched on the edge of the tailgate, she looked so casual, so at ease. Her dark hair fell lose over her shoulders, contrasting sharply against her white tanktop that had ridden up, showing a small sliver of her stomach just above the waistband of her jeans. Daryl corrected his gaze, realizing that the flush that crept up his neck wasn’t just from the whiskey.

She must’ve noticed something in his expression, because her smirk faded slightly, her dark eyes lingering on his. “What?” she asked, her voice lower than what it had been just a minute ago.

Daryl shook his head, turning his attention back in the direction of the quarry. “It's just funny.”

Rosita arched a brow, shifting on the tailgate, the liquor already lacing her voice with humor. “What’s funny?” she asked as she tilted her head slightly, watching him. Her eyes gleemed brightly in the dim light. And when he turned his gaze back to hers, their eyes met for a moment before he spoke.

“Instead of goin’ somewhere, doin’ sometin’,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “we’re just sittin here on the side of this damn quarry,” he motioned back towards the gaping hole just in front of the truck, “gettin’ drunk in the dark.”

She laughed then, shaking her head. “Yeah, guess neither one of us is as smart as we think we are.”

She let her legs swing lightly beneath her as she watched him, he was working his bottom lip between his teeth again as he stared out into the distance.

She offered the bottle out to him again, and he took a step closer, his hip brushing against her knee as he took it from her. His gaze was still on the horizon.

“I mean,” She said, the humor in her voice slowly fading, “There are worse ways to spend a summer night...” He turned his eyes back to her then, and she watched as his smirk faded into something else. Something softer.

He gave a small grunt in agreement, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He said, though his eyes never left hers.

Silence stretched between them, laced with something thicker than it had before, broken only by the steady song of crickets and the occasional groan of a walker far below.

Daryl passed the bottle back to her, and this time, when their fingers met, neither of them moved right away.

The touch lingered.

Warm.

Deliberate.

He felt the way she let her fingers trail down his before wrapping around the bottle and pulling it away, slow and unhurried.

He felt his pulse thrum in his throat, but he didn’t look away.

Rosita kept her eyes on his as she brought the bottle to her lips again. She took a sip, slow and measured, the whiskey burning down her throat. She didn’t flinch, didn’t break her gaze.

Daryl felt something shift between them, something subtle and unspoken, but undeniable.

He should’ve looked away, should’ve said something to cut through whatever it was that was building between them. But he didn’t.

Rosita lowered the bottle, her fingers curling loosely around the neck of it. Her knee brushed against him again, just barely, but he didn’t move away this time.

The space between them felt smaller now. Closer. Like something had shifted without either of them moving much at all.

Daryl’s fingers flexed at his sides, a slow, restless motion. He could still feel the ghost of her touch against his skin, the weight of her gaze lingering on him like the heat in the air.

Rosita tilted her head slightly, watching him. “What’s on your mind, Daryl?”

Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

Daryl swallowed, his throat working around the tightness that had settled there. He could’ve shrugged. Could’ve muttered nothin’ and put a safe distance between them.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t look away.

Rosita’s lips parted slightly, like she was going to say something else, but she hesitated. Instead, she set the bottle down beside her, her fingers lingering on the glass before she straightened.

And when she did, she was closer.

Not much. Just enough.

And somehow, her knees were on either side of him now.

Daryl still didn’t move.

Didn’t pull away.

Didn’t stop her when her fingers curled just slightly in the front of his shirt.

His pulse thudded harder now, rattling in his chest like something waiting to break loose.

Then she closed the distance.

Her lips met his, slow but sure, tasting of whiskey and heat and something else that had been simmering between them all night.

Daryl sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, startled by the sudden rush of it, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.

His hands found her waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of her shirt, gripping tight like he needed something to hold onto. Rosita responded immediately, parting her lips against his, her fingers sliding into his hair at the base of his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine, a spark shooting straight through him, unraveling the last bit of restraint he might’ve had left.

The kiss deepened.

Rosita shifted forward on the tailgate, bracketing his thighs, pulling him in closer. Daryl let her. Let her push and pull and drag him down with her, because fuck, he wanted this.

The bottle tipped over somewhere beside them, rolling off into the dirt, forgotten.

His hands slid down, gripping her hips, his fingers pressing hard enough to bruise as he pulled her forward. She shifted, legs tightening around him as she kissed him harder, more desperate now. Her hands tugged at his hair, pulling a low noise from deep in his throat.

His skin was burning, his head swimming, the whiskey mixing with something stronger—something that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the way she was pulling him under.

Rosita broke the kiss just long enough to suck in a breath, her forehead pressing against his, her own breathing uneven.

“This a bad idea?” she murmured, her lips brushing his as she spoke.

Daryl swallowed, his grip on her tightening. “Prob’ly.”

She smirked, fingers trailing down the front of his shirt before slipping beneath the hem, her touch searing against his stomach.

“Good,” she muttered, then pulled him right back in.

The moment shattered, breaking apart like a dam giving way.

Rosita pulled him in harder, her fingers curling into his shirt, dragging him closer. Daryl let her, let himself get lost in the heat of it, in the whiskey and the way her body fit against his like they’d done this a hundred times before.

Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him flush against her. The tailgate groaned beneath their weight, metal creaking as she shifted, pressing into him.

Daryl exhaled hard, his breath sharp against her skin as he broke away for just a second, but Rosita wasn’t having it. She chased his lips, her hands sliding under his shirt, nails scraping along his ribs, dragging another low rumble from within him.

His grip tightened on her hips, fingers pressing into the soft curve of her waist as he pulled her even closer, his mind buzzing from the alcohol, from her, from the way her mouth was working against his—needy and relentless.

She tugged at his shirt, frustration rolling off her in waves when it wouldn’t come off fast enough. Daryl helped, yanking it over his head and tossing it blindly behind him.

Rosita barely gave him time to breathe before her lips were back on his, her hands sliding up his bare chest, nails scratching lightly over his skin. He hissed at the sensation, heat pooling low in his stomach, thick and heavy.

She smirked against his mouth, biting down on his lower lip before licking over it, slow and teasing.

Something in him snapped.

Daryl growled low in his throat and grabbed her thighs, lifting her effortlessly off the tailgate. She gasped as her back hit the side of the truck, but the sound melted into a breathy moan when he pressed against her, pinning her there.

Her hands found his hair, yanking him down as she kissed him harder, her body arching into his. The scent of whiskey and summer air clung to her skin, mixing with something distinctly hers—something warm and intoxicating.

Daryl barely had a second to think, barely cared to. His hands were on her, gripping, feeling, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, pushing it up as his lips trailed down her neck.

Rosita gasped, her head tipping back against the truck, exposing more skin for him to claim. His teeth scraped against her pulse, and she shuddered, fingers twisting into his hair.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t want to.

Not tonight.

Rosita hooked her legs around him, locking him against her as she ground down, making his breath stutter, making every nerve in his body light up.

“Daryl,” she breathed against his ear, her voice rough and wanting.

That was all it took.

All the control, all the restraint, anything that had been holding them back—gone.

They weren’t thinking anymore.

Not tonight.

Just moving.

Hands desperate, mouths hungry, bodies pressing together like they needed this.

Like they’d fall apart if they stopped.

And neither of them wanted to stop.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Rosita’s breath hitched as Daryl’s hands moved—rough, desperate, fingers sliding beneath her shirt, palms dragging over the bare skin of her waist. She was warm beneath his touch, burning hot, and when she arched into him, he let out a sharp breath against her throat.

Her nails scraped down his back, pulling him closer, pressing her body flush against his. The truck behind them was solid, grounding, but everything else was spiraling—too fast, too much, and still not enough.

“Fuck,” she whispered against his lips, her voice breaking on the word as she tilted her hips, rolling them slow, deliberate.

Daryl gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around her thighs, his breath ragged as he tried to ground himself. But she wasn’t giving him the chance. Wasn’t letting him get a grip before she was kissing him again, rough and hungry, like she wanted to take every last piece of him tonight.

His hand slid higher, under her shirt, fingertips trailing the band of her bra before pushing it up, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his calloused hands. She gasped into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, and he swallowed the sound, pressing her tighter against the truck, holding her exactly where he wanted her.

Rosita reached between them, fumbling with his belt, cursing under her breath when the buckle refused to cooperate.

Daryl smirked against her skin, his lips dragging along her jaw. “Y’rushin’.” His voice was low, rough, a rasp of gravel and heat against her ear.

She exhaled sharply, her fingers yanking at his belt again, stubborn and unrelenting. “Shut up,” she muttered, but there was a smirk in her voice, breathy and reckless.

Daryl chuckled, deep in his throat, but it cut off when she rocked against him again, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight through him.

His patience snapped.

Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them above her head against the truck, his grip firm but careful. Rosita sucked in a breath, her dark eyes flashing with something wild, something daring.

Her lips parted, but before she could say anything, Daryl was on her again—his mouth covering hers, devouring, his free hand slipping down, pressing into the heat between them.

Rosita moaned, her head tipping back, body arching into his touch. “Daryl—”

That was it.

Whatever control he’d been holding onto was gone.

He kissed her hard, swallowing her gasps, letting his hands and his body tell her exactly how much he wanted this, wanted her.

Wanted to lose himself in her completely.

And Rosita let him.

Met him with the same raw intensity, the same fire.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Just heat.

Just this.

Just them.

Daryl’s breath was ragged, his grip tightening on Rosita’s wrists as he held them against the truck. His restraint was razor-thin, fraying with every breathless sound she made, every shift of her hips against his.

Rosita smirked up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, her dark eyes flickering with something wild. “You gonna do somethin’ or just stand there?” she taunted, her voice rough, teasing.

Daryl didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t think.

Didn’t give her the chance to say anything else before he crashed his mouth against hers, rough and unforgiving.

She gasped into him, her fingers flexing where he held them, her body pressing into his as she hooked a leg around his hip, pulling him closer.

His free hand roamed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, his fingers brushing hot, sensitive skin.

Rosita groaned, her head falling back against the truck, her breath catching in her throat.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her hips jerking against his touch.

Daryl growled low in his chest, the sound vibrating through him as his fingers pressed deeper, dragging another sharp moan from her lips.

Rosita tugged at his grip, and this time, he let her go.

Her hands were on him in an instant, shoving his belt out of the way, popping the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with a quick, deliberate motion that sent heat pooling low in his stomach.

Daryl sucked in a breath, his forehead pressing to hers as her hand wrapped around him, warm and sure.

His fingers clenched against her hip, his entire body tensing as she moved—slow at first, then firmer, teasing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice breaking on the word.

Rosita grinned against his jaw, biting lightly before licking over the spot. “Thought I told you to shut up,” she teased.

Daryl let out a rough laugh, but it quickly dissolved into a groan as she squeezed just right. His patience snapped completely.

His hands were on her then, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her thighs as he lifted her.

She let him, wrapping her legs around him, arms locked around his shoulders as he slammed her harder against the truck.

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” she murmured against his lips, her voice breathless, shaky.

Daryl didn’t answer. Just kissed her again, swallowing her words, pressing into her, feeling every inch of heat, of need, of urgency between them.

There was no thinking, no hesitation.

Just heat.

Just hands and mouths and tangled limbs.

Just them, lost in the moment, in the whiskey, in the night.

And neither of them cared about anything else.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Daryl grunted as Rosita tightened her legs around him, the heat of her body pressing against his, sending another sharp pulse of want straight through him. His hands gripped her thighs, rough fingertips digging into smooth skin, holding her steady against the truck.

But it wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled back just enough to shift his grip, one arm sliding beneath her thighs as he turned, carrying her effortlessly to the cab of the truck. .

Rosita gasped, startled for just a second before she smirked against his lips. “Didn’t take you for the type,” she teased, her breath warm against his mouth.

Daryl huffed a rough laugh, kicking open the truck door, maneuvering them both into the cab with practiced ease. “Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it, his voice ragged with need.

Rosita didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate.

Daryl barely had the sense to shut the truck door before he was on her again.

She just pulled him down with her as he climbed into the seat, her back hitting the worn leather, her fingers tangling in his hair as she dragged him closer. She kissed him hard, raw, full of something neither of them wanted to name.

She was fire beneath him—burning hot, winding tight, her hands gripping at his bare skin, her legs tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper, harder.

The whiskey burned in his veins, but it wasn’t the liquor making him feel like this. Wasn’t the heat rolling off them in waves, fogging up the windows.

It was her.

The way she moved beneath him, the way she gasped into his mouth when he rolled his hips just right, the way she dug her nails into his shoulders, leaving faint crescent marks against his skin.

“Fuck, Daryl—”

The way she said his name, breathless and sharp, nearly undid him.

He growled against her throat, biting lightly at her pulse point, dragging his teeth over her skin before soothing it with his tongue. Rosita shuddered beneath him, her back arching, her nails dragging down his spine.

Daryl braced a hand against the door, the other gripping her hip as she shifted beneath him, heat pressing against heat, the friction making his breath hitch.

Clothes were in the way—too much fabric, too much space between them, and Daryl wasn’t having it. His hands were rough, fast, pushing her jeans down over her hips, shoving them past her thighs.

Rosita helped, lifting her hips, kicking them off until they were forgotten somewhere in the cab.

His jeans followed, shoved just low enough, his belt clattering against the seat as Rosita wrapped her legs around him again.

She bit down on his lower lip, pulling a low growl from him, and then he was moving, pressing his forehead against hers as his fingers gripped her thigh, hitching it higher around his waist.

Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling quickly beneath him, but she still managed to smirk, her fingers dragging down his stomach, teasing.

“You sure?” he muttered, voice rough, barely more than a breath.

Rosita huffed, her lips curling up in something like amusement, but her eyes were dark, heavy with want. “Shut up and fuck me, Dixon.”

Daryl didn’t need to be told twice.

He shifted, positioning himself, and then—

Rosita gasped, her nails biting into his skin as he sank into her, slow at first, stretching, fitting, filling every inch of space between them.

Daryl’s breath hitched, his grip on her tightening as he fought to keep himself steady, to keep from losing it right there.

She was hot, tight, perfect around him, her body arching to take him in deeper, her legs locking around him to pull him closer.

Daryl let out a rough breath, his grip tightening before sealing his mouth over hers again, swallowing the sharp gasp she let out as he finally settled in.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her head tipping back against the seat. “Daryl—”

He groaned, low and ragged, as he started to move, slow at first, testing, savoring the way she felt beneath him.

Rosita didn’t want slow.

She met his thrusts, rolling her hips in a way that made his vision blur, made him tighten his grip on her thighs, made him bury his face in her neck to muffle the growl building in his chest.

Rosita arched up to meet him, her nails raking down his back as they moved together, a tangled mess of heat and hunger and urgency.

The truck rocked slightly with their movements, the windows fogging up, the whiskey-fueled haze mixing with the sound of breathless gasps, low curses, the rustle of hands gripping at fabric, pulling, needing.

Daryl’s head dipped, lips dragging along the curve of her throat, tasting salt and warmth, his breath rough against her skin as Rosita’s fingers clenched in his hair.

He wasn’t thinking anymore.

Neither of them were.

Wasn’t worrying.

Wasn’t holding back.

He let go.

Let her take him under.

Let himself drown in her, in this, in the way nothing else mattered in this moment except the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she moved beneath him like she needed this as much as he did.

They lost themselves completely in the moment, in each other, in the way nothing else existed outside the heat of the cab, the way the world could’ve burned around them and neither of them would’ve given a damn.

Not now.

Not tonight.

And when Rosita clenched around him, shuddering, gasping his name, he followed her over the edge, pulling her closer, holding on tight as everything broke apart around them.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, breathing hard, the weight of what just happened settling in between them.

But neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

Because for once, they weren’t running from anything.

Not tonight.

[ikalyyy]

♡︎ㅤ! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָstray bunny pt. 03 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Where Kang Saebyeok is chased by another girl after they were fired from the games.

part three

𖹭.ᐟ Warnings: little angst ; fluff ; no callback to the games ; fem! reader

Waking up the next day was quite an odyssey for Saebyeok, starting with the fact that you felt so warm next to him, that she was afraid to admit how good it felt to have your body close on a cold night. The next problem was that Saebyeok couldn't get out of your arms, you literally clung to him like a koala, tangling your legs with his. Your hands surrounded his waist so tightly that she felt breathless.

"Girl, wake up" she spoke, his voice slightly hoarse, you only let out a moan before moving your face away a little, it was then that Saebyeok noticed a large stain on his shirt... "God, no..." she looked, you had drooled on his shirt while you slept.

"Byeokkie, just a few more minutes" you asked, it was the first time in a long time that you managed to fall asleep without nightmares in between.

"No, and if you don't get away I'm going to kick you" she said, now his voice sounded somewhat annoyed.

You stood up, still rubbing your eyes, you let out a yawn and stretched like a cat, making her let out a laugh, which quickly ended with her covering her mouth. She looked down and found your body, without pants.

"Byeokkie-" you were going to speak when Saebyeok looked at you.

"Where the fuck did you leave my pants?" she said, lifting the covers, but found them a few inches from the mattress.

"I promise I didn't take them off, but they were really big, they probably slipped off" you mumbled still sleepily and without giving it any importance, Saebyeok had his gaze fixed on your legs, they looked so soft and warm, his first thought was to want to touch them, but she quickly looked away.

"Put your clothes on, you can take a shower in the bathroom" she said before walking over and putting on her jacket "I'll go get some food" before you could say anything else, she left, slamming the door.

"Ugh, so weird" you sigh before grabbing your clothes from the day before and entering the small bathroom.

You come out a few minutes later, wearing only your underwear and the small skirt, you're not wearing any shirt. Saebyeok looks up and raises an eyebrow.

"Why are you coming out naked?" She says, looking back to take out the two milk cartons and the small buns.

"I'm not naked, Byeokkie" you say as you happily walk over to her.

"Get dressed" she orders and you quickly run over to her small dresser, taking out a random t-shirt and putting it on "It's rude to wear things that aren't yours" she says, her tone slightly annoyed.

"My t-shirt was already dirty, really dirty, I didn't want to smell bad" you say as you walk over again, leaning on Saebyeok's arm, your breasts pressing against his arm.

"I'll go take a shower, if you want, have breakfast" she mumbles, moving away from you.

After a few minutes after Saebyeok started taking a shower you sat there, waiting for her to have breakfast. The door rang, you winced and before you could open it, two cards slid in, they were exactly the same ones you were given the first time, when you first entered those games. You stared at the card for minutes that seemed like forever; you didn't want to go back, that's for sure, but you knew Saebyeok was going to come back, you hid the cards in your sweater and left it on the floor again.

"Who was it?" She asked coming out of the shower, her hair was wet and looked... "I asked you a question, answer"

"Ah, no one really, when I opened it there was no one there" you murmured, maybe it wasn't entirely a lie.

"Fine" she murmured before you sat on the floor to have breakfast, you constantly looked at her "Is something wrong?" she asked, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Would you go back to the games?" You asked, going straight to what you wanted to know.

"Yes" his answer was simple and concrete.

"But... what about your family? You said you had a brother and a mother captured"

"Precisely because of them I would come back, they need me and we need the money" she explained without going into too much detail "would you come back?"

"I... I don't think so, I have anything here but it doesn't mean I want to die like this, I really enjoy life" you felt his eyes, making you blush "I like to see the colors of the sunset, or listen to birds sing, if I die I would like to die in peace, not with a bullet in my head" as you spoke, Saebyeok looked at you dreamily, she didn't want to die either, but she didn't want to continue with that life either.

"When will they summon us again? I thought it wouldn't take long" she said with some irritation.

"Maybe they'll let some time pass before doing so, so that no one will call the police or something like that" you murmured, knowing it was a lie.

"Hopefully it'll be soon" she said before finishing his breakfast.

"Where are you going?" you asked, standing up.

"I need to go some places" she replied as he put on his jacket "When are you leaving?" although you remembered that Saebyeok had only let you stay for one night, you couldn't help but feel unbalanced with his question.

"I don't know..."

"You should look for a place, I can barely support myself" she said and finally left the place.

You stayed silent for a few minutes, after throwing away the breakfast trash you grabbed your sweater and pulled out the two cards, seriously thinking if your decision was being selfish, but another part of you thought you were just being a good Samaritan, saving Saebyeok's life. You took the two cards and put them in your sweater before leaving.

The world outside didn't change, you walked through the streets, taking some wallets out of people's pockets, you walked around with a cute smile, so people would never think you stole.

As you walked you came across a hostel, Saebyeok was leaving there, you assumed he had gone to visit his younger brother.

"Are you following me?" She muttered raising an eyebrow, his sudden voice startled you.

"N-no! I was just passing by" you justified yourself.

"Good, because I hate people butting into my business" she started walking, without thinking much you followed her, when they approached an alley, she pulled you, putting you against the wall, she took out her knife and put it near your face.

"Byeokkie..." you gulped, you thought that you were already friends, why was she threatening again?

"Just because I gave you a home for one night, doesn't mean I want to have you around" her hands squeezed your sweater "Get away from me"

It was stupid, you knew, but having her so close and with a knee between your legs, wasn't the most threatening position, and you found yourself lowering your hips a little, to feel her contact against your intimate part.

"What the fuck are you doing brat?" she squeezed you tighter, angry at your actions, but slightly blushing.

A voice echoed behind you."Wow, look what I found..." was the voice of the same man Saebyeok had fought at the beginning of the games.

"Mind your own business, moron." Seeing how curious you were standing next to him, Saebyeok pulled you in behind her.

"Communist bitch..." the man approached Saebyeok, trying to punch her in the face, but she quickly dodged him.

"Go home," you heard him say, but you really didn't want to leave her alone.

"Go away, moron!" you yelled at the big man, standing in front of him.

"So Kang already has a girlfriend..." his voice was mocking, he squeezed your chin "Such a little thing-"

"Don't bring her into this, she has nothing to do with it" Saebyeok approached, pushing the man "Go away, Deok-su" she asked, as he took out his knife and passed it over his cheek.

"If you go back to the games, I'll take care of squashing you like a mosquitoes" said Deok-su showing his card and left. Saebyeok looked at him for a few seconds before turning to you.

For a moment you thought he would ask you about the card, but all he did was take your chin, looking at the slight marks on your skin.

"Next time you leave when I ask you to" she growled angrily as they left the alley.

"I didn't want to leave you alone, Byeokkie!" you jumped beside him, hugging his arm.

"It's unsafe for you to stay here, even more so because Deok-su already met you" irritated She caressed her temple.

"Sad~" you pouted, pretending to be sad about having to go back to her.

"You'll be staying at my house until I go back to the games" she said, she didn't push you away from her arm, she just kept walking.

"Do you want some ice cream?" You pointed at a small store "I just stole some, we have enough and-"

"Don't waste your money on stupid things" she said looking at you, you looked up, making eyes at her, batting your thick eyelashes "Idiot girl" without being able to argue, they walked to the store, well, she walked, you were jumping excitedly.

They sat on a park bench, both eating their ice cream, you smiled excitedly while Saebyeok just looked around.

"It's weird that we haven't received the cards yet" she said, breaking the silence, you stayed quiet before answering.

"Or maybe they made a selection of who was more suitable or something like that" you tried to explain.

"That's useless, why would they do that?" she huffed angrily, for a moment you thought about it and put your hand in to take out the cards, but Saebyeok spoke again "I promised my brother that I would bring our mother, now that promise is useless, I don't even have the money, the stupid broker I found robbed me" she threw his head back, you looked at his Adam's apple, it was slightly marked, but it looked very good.

"There are always more options" you said, getting a little closer, you put your legs on the bench, sitting on them "Can you imagine if you died in there? Your mother would think that you stopped looking for her, your brother would think that you abandoned him" you put your chin on his shoulder.

"y/n..." she murmured your name for the first time, without looking at you "If I return to the games... could you promise that you would take care of my brother? Only if you don't return to the games" you stayed silent for a few seconds.

“I would definitely do it for you, Byeokkie” you smiled happily.

“Thanks, silly girl” she tapped your forehead, making you pull away.

“Thanks for not leaving me on the street” you put your head back on his shoulder, sucking on some more of your vanilla and strawberry ice cream. Saebyeok dropped his head onto yours, making your heart feel happy and your tummy feel warm.

I apologize for any errors that may exist

Thank you very much for reading, I promise to do my best for this story, hehehe

Btw, how do you think Saebyeok will react when he finds out that Y/N hid the game cards from him?

Another thing, I will avoid using "y/n" when writing, I don't like to use it much.

with lots of love and sugar, ika (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

ᥫ᭡ tags:

@monroesturnns

@magnificentreviewglitter

[badkruka]

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK just casually found Nooshi Dadgostar, leader of the Left Party, stand on a corner I walk by literally evey day

[thinkinonsense]

SEVEN DAYS

x2!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: desperate!logan, eating reader out, fingering, squirting?

masterlist

the mission was only supposed to last for two days. forty-eight hours and he would return home to you. instead it was dragged out much longer than it needed to be.

logan wanted nothing more than to be home in your arms instead of a motel room alone, painfully hard, trying to tune out scott snore on the other side of the wall.

so, on thursday afternoon when him, scott, and storm returned to the mansion, logan wasted no time hunting you down. he could smell you the second he walked through the front door; you were in charles office. charles, hank, jean, and you were meeting to discuss a new experiment when logan bursts through the door.

"logan! pleasure for you to join us." hank announces.

your head snaps up from your scribbling to see that your lover has returned safely. he looked like a lion ready to pounce on a naivë little lamb.

"just came by to pick something up." logan answers, ignoring everyone else in the room as he made a b-line for you.

"hey, baby–"

within seconds, logan lifts you up over his shoulder and out of the leather seat. you squeal, dropping your notepad and pen. your kitten heels kick his abs as your squirm in his arms.

"logan!" you hiss, swatting his toned back as he turns around to walk out of the room, unphased. "what the hell! put me down!"

he ignores you, pulling down your dress to cover your behind from your co-workers. no one was shocked by logan's actions. the man wasn't a patient person by any means. they all watched as you left over logan's shoulder, face blushing with embarrassment.

when logan finally shut your guys bedroom door, he placed you down on the edge of your bed; yet to say a word to you. instead, he falls straight to his knees in front of you. his big callous hands, rubs the soft skin of your inner thighs, opening your legs.

logan couldn't help but moan when he saw the pretty lacy light blue panties you were wearing. you could see the neediness in his eyes as he licked his lips. before he can remove your underwear, you cradle his face in your much smaller palms.

"you alright, baby?" you ask, looking down at him.

similarly to a cat, logan rubs the scruff of his beard against your thigh, pressing his nose against the thin panties; inhaling the scent of your arousal. you run a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp softly before your fingers tugging on the kitten tuffs, making him whimper against your pussy.

"mhm..." he manages to say. "i missed you."

"aw, i missed you–"

"missed your scent, your lips, your mouth..." his words are muffled as he kisses you messily over the lace. "missed this fuckin' pussy so much."

you gasp when he pulls down the soaked material and moves back for a second to look at you. he spreads you apart with his thumbs, watching you twitch and clench at the cool air hitting your pussy. she was warm, wet, and welcoming to him. logan couldn't imagine a better way to spend the rest of his day.

"there's my favorite girl." logan smiles before spitting right on your button and latching his mouth onto you. you moan loudly as he talks to your pussy, acting as if you weren't even in the room.

"you've missed me too, huh, pretty girl?" he moans incoherently as his tongue runs over core.

it's a struggle to keep your eyes open but it was worth the sight of logan's head in between your legs. the noises he made with your slick were unbelievably lewd.

"must've missed me a lot." you giggle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps your legs around his head.

"you've got not fuckin' idea." he mumbles into your folds. spit and slick pooled onto the sheets that laid under you as logan feasted.

logan looks up at you and fears he might cum just from the image of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth slightly parted as you sing his praise of 'right there, logan!', 'such a good boy for me'.

the 'good boy' comment threw logan's mind into a frenzy. he needed to hear you. he needed to be surrounded by your presence. two of his fingers dip into you, fast and rough. your thighs squeeze his head, threatening to pop it right off his body.

there was no time to warn him before your high hit. logan slurped up every bit of honey you had to offer him. you reach down for the hand that wasn't busy locating your sweet spot and place it on your tit. logan could feel your heartbeat and it only sent him further on his spiral, adding a third finger and repeatedly hitting that spot that made you see fireworks.

"i c-can't, logan" you mewl, wiggling back from logan's tongue. he catches you, latching back onto your button. "it's too m-much!"

"she's takin' me just fine." his voice is muffled against you in the dirtiest way possible.

the pressure builds in your tummy. there were no words in your brain at this point, moaning and babbling about nothing.

"that's the spot, huh?" he groan, smirking up at you. logan's fingers twist up, slamming against that gummy spot deep in your walls.

the motion caused you to let out more slick than you ever had before, gushing on logan's face. you can hear him curse as he licks you clean.

“it’s only been seven days, you know?” you giggle, trying to catch your breath.

he climbs up your body to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself. you moan into his mouth, as logan grinds down on you, needing more.

“seven days too long, sweetheart.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

a/n: just something short n sweet before i post part 2 of dad!logan x teacher!reader <3

[lovelivision]

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Riding Choso’s abs, slick pussy gliding against the ridges and contours of his muscles. Struggling to keep the noises you’re making at bay and having to give up all together, letting the pathetic moans and whimpers you’re making for him fall freely.

Choso’s so painfully hard watching you rub your cunt all over him, at the sounds of your moans. Dick straining against his pants, neglected and needy, tip sticky and leaking. His hands rest on your thighs, on your hips, anywhere he can get to. Wanting to touch you, needing his hands on you at any given moment.

His abs flex under you and it has you crying out a moan. Falling forward slightly your nails dig into his chest. A self-satisfied smile on Choso’s face tells you it wasn’t an accident, clearly pleased at the reaction he got out of you.

“Don’t be – hah – mean, Cho,” there’s a slight shake in your voice when you say it.

“I’m sorry,” he pouts back at you, “Couldn’t help it, you look so good right now, wanted to hear you more.”

The amount of slick you’re leaving behind is embarrassing, face feeling hot at just how wet his abs have gotten from you grinding down into him. “Can we just have sex now?”

“No, no, I wanna…” he pulls at your hips, wanting you to keep moving, encouraging you, “…I wanna see you cum like this.”

You’re not confident you can, feeling shy, but with how his eyes are glued to you in complete awe, you feel desperate to please him. Doubling your efforts to drag your sopping cunt back and forth on him, biting your lip to control your moans. Only to have Choso reach up and tug your lip free, not wanting you to deprive him of any of your reactions.

His heart pulls at the way your brows knit together, at how your mouth drops open in a gasp. His cock twitches pitifully when he catches the sight of his drenched skin, he needs you to cum on him. A new kind of frantic determination settling under his skin as he grabs onto your hips.

His hands guide you, rocking you faster, with more force. The sudden change shocks you, choking on moans at how much better it feels to have him helping you. Thighs shaking either side of him, chest stuttering as you struggle to keep up with him.

“I want it,” he doesn’t spare you a glance as he rushes his words out, instead keeping focused on how you’re twitching and drooling on him.

You want to tell him to breathe, that you’re close, but you’re barely able to talk without your voice breaking off, “I– oh!”

“I know,” he assures, he knows you’re so fucking close, he can read you like a book.

You can tell he’s flexing his abs for you, relishing in how your pussy jumps and you gasp every time he does. Then he’s grinding you down harshly as he presses himself up into you, the friction drives you wild.

Lip wobbling as you’re cumming very suddenly on him, coating his abs in a slick sheen of your mess. Your arms shake where you’re holding yourself up, he doesn’t stop your movements straight away, very nearly overstimulating you before finally stopping.

Choso’s eyes sparkle at the obscene mess left behind, abs drenched and shiny, over the moon at how he managed to get you to finish like this.

He’s smiling at you sweetly when he asks, “Up for riding my face?”

[et6rnalsun]

SHOWIN’ WHAT’S MINE

rafe hates when you dare cover up one of the vulgar hickeys he leaves on your neck while he's deep inside you. he hates it with a burning passion, and would happily let them be permanent just to show everyone that you’re already his.

that’s why every time you do it, he goes crazy.

you climbed into his truck with a small sigh from the rush you had to make to be ready on time, and unconsciously ran a hand through your hair—an action that revealed your strangely smooth neck, without any marks. his blue eyes lingered on that detail as he leaned down to kiss your lips with narrowed eyes, his hand resting on your jaw. “hi, baby”he greeted you, returning your sweet smile with a small one. he couldn't look away from your neck, his gaze darting from side to side because he was pretty sure that somewhere there had to be a hickey he'd left the day before.

“you playin’ at cover up?” he teased, adjusting in his seat. he had no intention of leaving until he understood. you frowned at his words, tilting your head as you took in his uneasy and searching eyes, scrutinizing you like there was something wrong. “what do you mean?” it was a sincere and genuine question, totally lost.

his thumb moved up to trace along your skin, his tongue dragging along his dry lips. “there was somethin’ here yesterday, doll,” he reminded you, pressing a little harder on the spot. “how come it disappeared, huh?”

oh. you let a small giggle escape your lips, and moved your head to give him more room to continue whatever his accusatory touch was. “i need to cover it, rafe. my mom would be so fuckin’ furious,” you huffed, a small pout on your lips as it was the tenth time you’d reminded him of this in a month. “y’know i want to keep it, but it’s too visible” and it was true, the neck was such an easy space to look at, to notice every little detail. and you, your parents' sweet little girl, with a hickey? absolutely not. unforgivable. a painful scandal.

rafe clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head as he stopped touching your neck. “but i don’t care” his head fell slightly to your shoulder, snuggling into you with his arm around your waist. “i really, really don’t care. your mom would understand” his voice was muffled against you, and you could feel his lips dragging down.

“no, rafe, she would never understand. are you crazy? she’d give me a monologue about how i need to have more decency, and how girls my age—“ your monologue of words that he wasn’t even listening to was interrupted by the feeling of his teeth slowly sinking into your soft skin, making your eyes widen briefly in surprise. the sting was stronger as he moved his head to get closer, his mouth closing further around the chosen piece as he switched from biting and licking to straight sucking. “rafe” you tried to stop him, but your hand on the back of his head only pulled him more closer, betraying your words.

his lips, warm and slow, felt too good — with a deliberation that made you lose your train of thought. you felt the heat growing on your skin, a sensation that mixed neediness and the rational side and thoughts. but rafe’s grip tightened on you anyway, not wanting to stop, everything a contrast to the delicacy of the way he left those marks with his mouth, each bolder than the last.

only when he pulled away you took a shaky breath and you looked up at him with big eyes and red cheeks from embarrassment. “tell me it’s not what i think” you murmured in desperation, but his smirk spoke volumes as he finally looked at the sight he truly liked; your marked up neck, barely any normal skin in sight.

@secretlocket @waitforyrlove @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @sosasturns @zweigsangel @sturn777 @carvedtits @sweetestpoetic @sturniolossss @ilovedanielcaesar @jetaimevous @fallbhind @marrykisskilled @lacysturniolorevamp @mattsturniolover @slxtarchive @bluestriips @alesturniolos @rafespreciosa

[benkeibear]

『 Popping your cherry 』

☼ synopsis: Nanami was patient until you were ready, giving you a night full of pleasure and taking your virginity in a gentle way

☼ character: Nanami

☼ wc: 4.3k (oops)

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no dynamics, soft sex, oral (reader giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy job, creampie, lots of pet names, consent checks, gentle aftercare, slight body worship

☼ notes: I promised @kentophilia to repost one of my fave pieces 🥹

Nanami has been nothing but kind and patient with you ever since you two met, sure he had his moments where he snapped at you due to stress at his work but you never took it to heart, almost feeling bad that you didn't quite know how to help him since he always brushed you off before he would say something he regrets and you gave him the desired space. He would always come back to you after a long and hot shower, muscles relaxed, his mood way better.

It wasn't until you happened to walk past his big bathroom when he took one of these showers when you found out what was really going on. Through the noise of the water hitting the tiled floor you could hear soft groans, followed by a few mumbled words… Was he masturbating?

Your hand gently knocked against the closed door before you could stop it from happening, a few grumbles to be heard from the inside of the room. “It's open!” He called out mere seconds later, his thick shaft still resting heavy in his palm, body hidden away behind the steamed glass of the shower. Swiftly you entered the bathroom and went straight for the shower, your clothes falling in a trail as you approached your lover. “May I join?” You called out slightly hesitant, your cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing him like this for the first time, but silence filled the room until he eventually spoke a small “Yes”, unable to resist you any longer. Nanami wanted to take things slow with you, knowing you're inexperienced so he waited for you to make a move, to give a sign that you want him as much as he wants you - he was craving you, the image of your body clad in the beautiful sundress you wore once stuck in his head and leaving little space for imagination what your body beneath might look like. The thought of you was his sweet salvation and his downfall late at night when he couldn't sleep or during the day when he couldn't focus. Only you.

After taking a deep and shaky breath you opened the milky glass door of the shower, steam clouding your vision for mere seconds before it evaporated enough to see your lover standing in front of you, not daring to look down where you saw his cock standing proudly in the corner of your eyes.

Noticing how you seemed to be frozen to the spot, Nanami tried to cover his manhood with his large hands, his eyes staying respectfully on your face, not once wandering. “Changed your mind?” He asked with a soft voice, not a hint of pressure behind his words, just curiosity, but you quickly shook your head no to let him know that you did not change your mind. With a careful step you joined the blonde man in the shower, hot water cascading down your figure yet his eyes remained trained on your face.

“Warm enough?” He asked caring, his voice soft as silk when he spoke which seemed to calm your breath a little. “It could be a bit warmer… if you don't mind,” you mumble, feeling a little awkward for intruding on him during such a private moment and now you just stand around in front of him, fidgeting nervously with your hands while he reached out to the faucet, brushing past the soft skin of your arm which you had draped over your chest in a rather shy manner. This simple touch alone left your skin to erupt with goosebumps and your eyes wandered over his strong arms, ending at his chest before you looked to the dark tiled wall once more, the rippling muscles beneath his skin embedded in your brain now. “You don't have to be so reserved. I'm your partner after all,” he pointed out lightly, not minding your eyes on him and as much as he wanted to just push you against the wall and take you, he remained patient and caring. He knew this was a rather big step for you to take already and he didn't want to scare you with anything, but you simply nodded, unsure arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle hug.

Nanami held back a chuckle upon this sweet and innocent gesture, holding you close to his body underneath the big rainshower, hot water cascading down both your bodies now. He would lie if he said that your soft skin and your perked nipples pressed against him in such an intimate way didn't affect him but his body betrayed him already - his erection twitching against your stomach and letting you feel just how badly he needed you. He cleared his throat and was ready to mumble out an apology for being inappropriate during such a delicate moment, but you looked up at him with a newfound hunger hidden behind your eyes.

Without hesitation the blonde man leaned down to capture your soft lips in a heated kiss, his tongue no stranger to your mouth as the kiss grew heated like oh so many times before. The butterflies were doing cartwheels in your stomach when his large hands reached down to hold your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body in an effort to get you even closer until you had to break the kiss for air, his kisses traveling to your neck and it was evident that both of you yearned for more than just a makeout session.

By the time your hand stroked over his rock hard abs it was clear to him and he nodded almost breathless, craving the touch of your soft hand wrapped around his shaft for the first time and when you finally did he couldn't hold back a relieved groan. Nanami’s lips returned to yours once again as he guided your much smaller hand up and down the length of his cock, showing you just the way he liked it, but the way your hand barely managed to wrap around his girth left his head spinning, desperate to maintain focus when his hands crept over to your body once more. Calloused hands resting on your hip and just below your chest, your nodding of wordless consent was all he needed to let his hands travel further, one pulling you closer as the other started kneading your chest. “You're so beautiful, doll” he managed to rasp out as his kisses returned to your neck once more, his low moans and pants filling your senses as your hand worked on his length to help him get off.

Your soft whines didn't go unnoticed by him when he gently rolled your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger, his lips now trailing down to take care of your neglected breast, the warmth of his mouth engulfing one nipple while his fingers played with the other and you started to rub your thighs together in desperation. “Let me take care of you,” he mouthed against the soft flesh of your boobs and you could only nod, your hand working faster on him as his teeth tugged on your nipple ever so gently. He should have felt ashamed for being selfish, but your hands working on him got him off faster than his own ever could, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and hands only to be washed away by the water right away, his head resting in the crook of your neck for a short moment, but before you knew it, his fingers were brushing against your thighs, begging for you to open up for him, which you did.

Skilled fingers caressed your inner thighs until he finally reached your core and just as he touched the part where you needed him most his sweet touch disappeared, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest which caught your attention. “We should take this to the bedroom, I want to take my time with you” he mumbled into your ear, his voice hoarse from how aroused he's gotten by the thought of finally claiming you as his entirely. You didn't need to answer him either, the way you turned off the water within a mere second was answer enough and he shook his head at how eager you seemed to be.

Leaving the warmth of the shower first, Nanami went to get a fresh towel for you, the soft fabric smelling like orchids and cotton, something you've started associating with him - with home. Just as he wrapped it around you, one hand stretched out to help you out of the shower and guided you to the bedroom you've been to a hundred times before. You should know the way by now but perhaps the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips, threatening to fall off, was all you could focus on. You were grateful for when he gently scooped you up into his strong arms, the hint of chest hair tickling your skin before you were placed onto the bed with utmost care.

Warm hands untucked the towel from around your body to reveal your beauty to him, your body entirely exposed but you didn't feel the need to cover up, his gaze letting the heat rush to your cheeks. He made you feel wanted, desired like you're the most beautiful woman on earth - and to him you were. You were perfect in every single way, almost feeling bad that he's about to ruin you like this but he craved to hear you whimper and whine for more, pawing at his sculpted body when he takes you past the edge, begging for him, pleading to fill you up - making you his entirely.

Of course he will take his sweet time until he is sure that you can handle him, the thought of hurting you made his heart clench and… he's been staring for too long, your sweet giggle filling his ears. You broke the shell of the stoic man, you could make him crawl to you if you'd only ask. He was fully devoted to you and your love, craving you, his body screaming for you in every way - it was almost scaring him but he was undoubtedly yours.

Kneeling down just in front of the bed he pulled your body closer, your beautiful legs now resting over his shoulders until your glistening folds were right in front of his face, his blonde hair tickling your thighs when he started pressing open mouthed kisses along your supple flesh. Minutes that felt like hours passed and you needed him, going crazy with how badly you yearned for his pleasure until your hands found their way into his silk like hair, pulling him towards your core with pleading eyes. “Patience, doll” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your folds and eliciting goosebumps over your body. You've never had someone this close to your heat but it was Nanami - you had no reason to grow shy nor embarrassed over your feelings for him, his rock hard cock letting you know that he was equally eager for this.

His amber eyes held nothing but warmth in them when he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, looking for any sign of discomfort in yours. “Yellow if it's too much, red if you need me to stop” his words cut the silence in the room, accompanied by the thumping of your heart now picking up, almost sounding like a war drum. You nodded, unable to form words in the anticipation laced with nervousness but it was enough for the man between your legs, trusting you to let him know if you weren't ready to go on and you knew he would never pressure you into anything.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his kisses travel over your mound onto your folds until his thumbs ever so gently parted them, exposing your wetness to him. Unsure what to expect you gasped softly when the first kitten lick of his tongue brushed over your exposed clit, fingers digging into his scalp at the sensation. You could feel him smile at your reaction, his tongue traveling through your folds in a zigzag motion only to circle your bundle of nerves, alternating between gently flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it until you were helplessly bucking against his face, the pleasure washing over you which caught you entirely off guard with its intensity that you couldn't even warn your lover - but he knew.

Nanami's tongue kept playing with your clit until he heard the cry of his name leave your throat, begging him, for what you didn't even know yourself but the orgasm that followed was better than any you've given to yourself.

Allowing you to calm down, his tongue slowed down its assault on your sensitive nub only to travel further down, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. The slurping noises were lewd but you didn't want him to stop, neither when he pushed his tongue into your entrance, nor when his thumb came down to rub small circles at your overly sensitive clit. Nanami was entirely lost in your taste, eyes fluttering shut and breaking eye contact for a moment and it made you swoon, seeing how much he enjoyed this - how pleasing you was pleasing him. Your juices kept coating his tongue, followed by soft groans against your heat only for his tongue to leave your entrance and return to your clit once more.

“God. You're so addictive” he mumbled into you, the hand which rested on your thigh now joining his tongue, his index finger gently circling your entrance to gauge a reaction from you, seeing if you show any signs of it being too much, but you were babbling at this moment, cunt clenching around nothing when his tongue started his assault on your bundle of nerves once more. Nanami was certain that you needed this as much as he did, ever so gently pushing his finger into your untouched hole just to feel how tight you clench around him from the intrusion. Nodding you started grinding against his face and finger, needing him deeper, needing more and he heard you, briefly pulling his finger out of you before replacing it with his middle- and ringfinger. Your cunt sucked them in, almost struggling to accommodate his thick digits - the stretch much more than your fingers ever managed and when he curled them into your sweet spot it was over for you once again. A loud whine erupted from your throat as the squelching noises of your pussy grew in volume “Ke-Kento… too much!” You whimpered helplessly to get him to slow down but the second your sweet voice reached his ears a clear stream of liquid splashed out of you and against his tongue. His fingers slowed down the moment you begged for it but your orgasm already washed over you, legs shaking violently on his shoulders when he lapped up the juices that just squirted out of you.

Your ears were ringing as your lungs desperately tried to get air back into them, not even noticing how your lover was raking his hands over your thighs in a caring manner, absolutely mesmerized by you. He knew very well that your body was pushed past its boundaries so he wanted to stop or at least give you a break but you finally came back to your senses, your gaze still hungry despite looking utterly fucked out by just his tongue and fingers. “Don't stop… please,” you whimpered, begging him for more. Oh you little vixen, knowing exactly how to play his heartstrings - how is he supposed to deny you such a request when he could devour you whole?

A single kiss was pressed to your right thigh before he put it down onto the bed, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle when he caught a glimpse of your frown. “You're going to be the death of me, love” he mumbled amused, your left leg now lined up with his chest and shoulder as he stood between your thighs. The feeling of his cock resting just above your heat made you want to scream, the kiss that was placed upon your ankle provoked the smallest whimper to erupt out of you. “Please Kento,” You encouraged him, being entirely certain about going this step with him and he nodded, thumbs spreading your folds once more to get a view on how wet he got you, a small puddle forming underneath your ass on the bed and he deemed it good enough to drag his length through your cunt, slowly.

Nanami wouldn't last long if he made love to you now, far too riled up from all your moans, your taste and the way you squirted just from two of his fingers working their magic on you. “Ken… i need you” you begged, soft voice sounding strained now, almost desperate but he only picked up his pace slightly, his tip now nudging your clit just the right ways to have you mewling for him once again, hands digging into the bedsheets from how sensitive you were by now and it needed everything inside of him to not push his cock inside of you when he felt close.

You could feel the twitching of his shaft against your wet cunt, heavy balls clenching as he spilled his seed over your heat and lower stomach, his head thrown back while a guttural moan left his throat. You really were going to be the death of him - now he was certain. Seeing your little pussy covered in cum did things to him, eyes darkening when he dragged the head of his cock through your folds once again to collect your mixed juices, only stopping when he arrived at your entrance. One last time his eyes wandered up your body to rest on your half closed eyes, looking so tired but so happy at the same time.

Nanami needed to make sure that you still wanted this since you were almost at a point of no return. Sensing his hesitation you reached your palm out towards him, letting the man that stood tall like a tree between your legs lower himself so you may cup his cheek in the most loving way. “I want you, Kento Nanami. I've never been more sure of something in my life before,” you whispered softly, the room around you falling quiet once more, only your heartbeats to be heard, hammering against your chests and begging to be united.

Your gentle giant couldn't ask for more from you, hearing you say it loud and clear - you wanted him, wanted this. His soft lips captured yours in an enchanting kiss and taking your mind entirely off of the way the bulbous head of his dick slowly pushed past your tight entrance and molding you to be his.

A hiccup caused by your pain interrupted the sensual kiss but Nanami was quick to help you, halting his advances when his length was halfway inside of you, taking your virginity with utmost care. “Shh… you're doing so good for me, doll. Do you want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, yet caring and it was clear that it took everything in him to not thrust the remaining half into you which was greatly appreciated. His forehead connected with yours after he pressed a kiss to yours, waiting for you to say something, anything. “G-green” your voice cut through the silence and allowed him to go on which he did, one of his hands still holding your leg to his chest while the other intertwined with yours, lips returning to yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself so he won't lose control. Hurting you was the last thing Nanami wanted to do after all.

His balls rested heavy against you when he finally bottomed out, his deep groan echoing off the walls when you raked your fingers over his well defined back, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath his pale skin. “Taking me so- fuck… so well,” he moaned breathless when his hips started to move with small thrusts, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek and you're not sure if it was from the pain or the fact that he made you feel so incredibly good. Weakly you nodded your head, drinking the praise in like it's the essence that's keeping you alive. “My good girl,” he continued, hips meeting yours with every word and he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at any moment, seeing your jaw slowly going slack and your moans growing in volume to create this lewd image of his usually so sweet love.

Nanami had to halt, his chest rising and sinking rapidly from the way you manage to steal his breath, your wet cunt gripping him like a vice and trying to milk him from all he's worth and he wanted to just fuck you senseless right then and there, hips pistonning into you like his life depended on it… but he didn't - he couldn't. Not this time at least. Instead his hips moved in slow but deep, rhythmic thrusts which let him feel every ridge inside your heat and only adding to his bottomless hunger for you. You were moaning beneath him, angelic sounds to his ears but when he straightened up so he was no longer bending over you on the bed you suddenly cried out his name in pleasure, soft moans turning desperate for more.

The new angle made you feel even fuller than before, his tip angled perfectly to hit your sweet spot with every gentle thrust until your glossy eyes landed on his almost closed ones, nodding over and over “I know you're close, princess. Just let go,” he encouraged you, his thrusts picking up their pace to push against your sweet spot repeatedly until your toes curled and your back arched so perfectly off the mattress. His thumb rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit to drag out this earth shattering orgasm as long as possible - you deserved a first time to remember fondly after all but he just doesn't stop. Your breathless whines turned into cries for him, for more, for him to not stop. You were high on this feeling he gave to you, his hips rutting into you aimlessly at this point and his head was thrown back as his moans mixed with yours. “One more, just- fuck! Just one more,” he groaned with a rough voice, needing to feel you clench around him in bliss again before he allowed himself to follow you.

When your pussy clenched around him as another orgasm rippled through your beautiful body, he finally understood why they call it a little death. His hips thrusted into you a final time, burying himself as deep as he physically could while his dick twitched wildly inside of you and you could feel the way his balls contracted, slowly filling you up with his release.

Nanami's vision went white for a moment, pure bliss taking over and his body feeling like he was floating on cloud nine - this is why they call it a little death. You were going to be his own piece of heaven, your core gripping his cock so tightly he felt like it was hard to breathe but at the same time you were the oxygen his lungs needed.

His barely there thrusts finally came to a stop and he lifted your leg off his chest and shoulder before lifting your body against his chest so you could be as close as possible without having to slip out. The way he fell onto the bed with you was almost clumsy but he didn't want to let go of you, not even for a fraction of a second.

His big hand came up to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, a tired smile on his lips “Are you okay, doll?” he asks with his voice like silk, needing to know if you're fine and you nodded tired, laying on top of him now with your bodies still connected. Even with his own seed running out of you and onto his body and the bed beneath he made no effort to move, the moment too perfect. Your body was draped over his, your limbs ever so tired as his hands ran up and down your back which was sticky from the sweat but he didn't mind it for one second. This moment dragged on for a while, gentle touches and even gentler kisses shared between lovers until your breath started to even out. In your half awake state you barely noticed how he carefully picked up your tired body to carry you into the room where it all began, only registering it when the sound of the water running and the scent of lavender filled your exhausted senses. “You can just rest, I'll clean you up” he whispered and lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub, following you mere seconds after where he let you rest against his chest again. You let your eyes remain closed when he picked up the softest washcloth, slowly dragging it over your arms, your torso, your legs and lastly over your sore pussy, still leaking his cum. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only tender care as he made sure to clean your body from any filth so you may rest and let him take care of you so you could wake in the bed to the smell of breakfast in the morning…

[mywritersmind]

JUST FRIENDS - LN4

summary : just friends…? in which lando and his best friend have a night out like any other, until a spicy song starts and lando can’t take it any more.

or: they make out to the song sports car

listen up : kissing! talk abt sex! tate mcraes new song sports car was on repeat so enjoy.

words : 1507

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I pull down the visor, the mirror greeting me as I swipe on my lipstick. I’ve gotten oddly good at doing my lipstick in fast cars, specifically, my best friend's fast car.

Lando shifts gears as I finish my last touch up and slap the visor shut, “Red’s a little bold, no?” He glances at me, his eyes hot against my skin as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel.

“When have I been anything but bold?” I blink, shutting my lipstick and handing it to him. I don’t miss the slight smirk at our routine.

He pockets it, shaking his head as we pull up to the club. Lando gets out first as I check out my nails, knowing damn well he’ll be at my door in seconds.

He opens it, looking at the people staring with a blank look. Then he looks at me, my skirt short and my heels high. I walk past him and straight into the club.

He follows me, his head down, probably an excuse to look at my ass. He slips his hand in mine as the crowd gets tighter, people screaming and saying hi to us left and right.

Our group is easy to find, all cheering as we arrive and immediately pushing drinks into us. The club is small and pretty private, but loud as fuck and filled with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and lust.

The dance floor is packed, the Dj raised along with little glowing stands which bottle girls and randos dance on.

I tug on Lando’s shirt, a white button up that’s already halfway undone, and offer him a drink. “Who’s gonna drive you home if i’m fucked?” He says plainly.

“Oh you’re driving me home, now? I thought you’d piss off with your new supermodel of the week.” I raise a brow and such on a lime.

His eyes flick to my lips, “I could say the same for you, love.”

“I am the supermodel, darling.” I wink, getting dragged away by my friend who’s laughing at the interaction and landing myself on the dance floor.

I’m two drinks down when I see him again, a girl flushed in his lap and his hat backwards on his head.

He’s talking and she looks absolutely fucking absolved in his words, probably drooling over his accent or his lips. Yet as he rattles off, probably talking about his new car or training, his eyes are set on me.

They practically burn my already hot skin, my arms going up as I dance with the music. It’s funny, really.

My best friend is Lando Norris. We get looks everywhere we go, yet the one look I can’t get over is how his eyes track me.

He’s got a girl in his lap and I've got a guy grinding behind me, yet I can’t seem to shake him. I watch his tongue sweep against his teeth, his eyes moving to my legs smoothly.

The girl puts her hand on the back of his neck, getting him to look at her. She’s not smart, if she were, she’d bother with a guy who’s actually looking at her.

He’s looking at me again, his gaze now flicking back and forth between me and the man behind me. I have a slight smirk on my face as I turn around to look at him.

He’s hot. Dark skin and eyes to match, I bite my lip before moving my hands to his shoulders and bring him in. He’s sweaty but the kiss is hot, I just hate that it’s so hot because my best friend is watching all of it.

Once the guy goes in for another kiss, I dodge it and make my way over to the bar, leaning up against the cold surface and wiggling my fingers at the bartender.

Lando is at my side seconds after I take my first sip of the icy drink. I pretend to not see him. “Lemme try.” He goes to take a drink but I swiftly pull my hand away, shaking my head.

“No way, Mr. Sober.” I grin as he leans against the bar, his head tilted slightly back and making his hair look godly. “Who’s gonna drive me home?”

“So you’re coming with me?” He stands up a bit straighter, “Not gonna find that guy?”

‘That guy’ in question is probably already fucking a girl in the bathroom. I laugh, “No. My best friend has separation anxiety, so.” I shrug as he grins and pushes off the bar.

“Dance with me.”

“Not a chance, Norris.”

His teeth catch his lips, making me look down at them. Fuck him and his fuck boy tactics.

“You’re Lando Norris!” a guy stumbles up to us, clearly pissed and far too excited to see Lan.

He mumbles about getting a picture and just as I walk away I hear Lando say, “Yeah, mate…”

I hand my drink off to someone, my hands in my hair as I groan and shake the feeling of Lando teasing me.

A few girls scream near me and I don’t realize it’s because of the song change until I hear the lyrics.

Hey, cute jeans

Take mine off of me

I laugh as someone pushes into me, not everyone knows the song, but almost everyone knows her voice. I find my friend, her hand tightening on mine as she pulls me to the center of the dance floor.

Before I know it, I'm screaming the lyrics that Tate leaked to me on top of the raised glass. My friend is messing with her hair and shaking ass as she sings along.

In the alley in the back

In the center of this room

With the windows rolled down

Boy, don’t make me choose

I laugh, throwing my head back and swinging my hips. I barely realize my friend is gone until her figure is replaced by Lando in front of me.

“You like this song?”

I raise a brow, “Yes?” I keep dancing, pretending that every part of me is aware of how close he stands.

I think you know what this is

I think you wanna, uh

I sing along still, until it gets to the next lyric, my mouth shutting as Lando watches me.

Oh, but you got a sports car

A grin takes over his face, cocky and completely evil. “I like it too.”

“Oh? You like Tate now?”

“I fuck with fucking and I fuck with cars… seems like enough to me.” His hand finds itself on my waist, pulling me tighter.

This is dangerously close to crossing our lines.

We could go again like three, four times

“Am I your type, Y/n?” He’s speaking into my ear now as butterflies hit my stomach, “Want me to fuck you in my sports car?”

I hold his arm in an attempt to not fall off this fucking stand. He looks way too good, his hat gone and his hair messy.

“Don’t get cocky now, Lan.”

“Oh, like you’ve been in other sports cars?” The quirk of his brow makes my heart beat faster.

I think you know what this is

I think you want a ride

I shake my head, “We’re just friends.”

“Friends who kiss other people in front of each other for fun?” He pulls me closer, staring down at me, “Try again, Y/n.”

While you drive it real far

“So what are we, Norris.” I stand him up, still not taller but my confidence building, “I dare you to tell me.”

He swallows, his adam's apple bobbing as his face leans closer, “How ‘bout I show you?” At this moment, I know i’m completely fucked.

Oh my guy-uy

You don’t wanna waste my time-ime

His hands are gripping me tighter as his head dips and his lips crash against mine.

Let’s go ride-ide

Let’s go ride-ide-ide

Oh, my guy-uh

My arms snake around his neck as his tongue parts my lips and slips into my mouth. It’s too hot, especially for the public to witness but I'm too kiss drunk to care.

He kisses me harder, his hands at my hips and dipping below my waist band so his fingers press against my bare skin. I bite his lip a bit and pull him in tighter against me.

Lando bites me right back. I whisper it against his lips, not holding myself back from the lyrics, “I think you wanna, wanna.” He kisses me again, his hand at my ass and his breath hot against me, “But you got a sports car.”

I feel his lips morph into a smile against mine, his kiss deepening as if he’s hungry for me. I move my hands to his hair, his groan vibrating against me.

“Let’s go.” He says over the sound of the music and people below us.

“Where?” I ask, still breathless and too close to him to pay attention to anything else.

That damn smirk is back as he tugs at my hand, “My sports car.”

[leonsdolly]

Canto V

Plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon's back from Spain, but there's something off about him.

CW: nsfw 18+, p in v, dubcon, implied somnophilia, breeding kink, bruising, titplay, cunnilingus, creampie, unprotected sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, lots of spit, choking, reader passes out during sex

WC: 2.4k

It may as well be a universally known concept that when you’re in a relationship with a government agent, you’d better get used to being strangers with the finer details. Who, what, when, where, and why made themselves at home in your vocabulary while you were dating Leon. It was all futile; he couldn't ever tell you where he was going for his next mission or when he was coming back to your grabby hands. Swearing confidentiality with your left hand on the Bible trumps a loving, concerned girlfriend apparently.

Leon had been gone for a few days this time around, and you weren’t sure when exactly he’d be back. You prayed to every divinity who cared to listen that he would come back home safe and sound to you. You did so every time he left. The government calls, he runs, you make your deals with Jesus.

The clock strikes midnight as you flit around your apartment, closing the kitchen and ensuring everything is locked up for the night. You got home from work rather late, and you’re looking forward to falling into a deep slumber, especially since you’ve taken your everything shower, completed your skincare routine, and changed into a cute teddy bear print cami with matching boy shorts. While your heart aches for your absent boyfriend, you throw your shoulders back and keep your chin high, braving another night of sleeping alone in your queen-sized bed. You slide under the covers and turn off your bedside lamp before closing your eyes and ultimately slipping into a welcomed state of unconsciousness.

Scratching, more scratching… Huh? You blearily open your eyes before squinting at the time displayed on your alarm clock - 1:48 am. Did something wake you? You don’t hear anything, yet you have the sinking feeling that something did lull you out of your sleep. You fumble to turn the lamp on - thankfully, there’s nothing standing in the corner of your room or anything else that would have you screaming bloody murder until your lungs collapsed. The covers are pulled aside as you sit up in bed, planting your feet on the hardwood floor. 

Once your feet lightly hit the floor, a terrible shuffling resounds from the living room which makes your blood freeze over. Your limbs are immobilized, but your eyes move towards the door, like you’re in a state of sleep paralysis and your demon’s lurking around the corner. Heavy footsteps grow closer and closer to your door, and you watch the doorknob turn in slow motion. 

The door swings open, and your body dissolves. 

“Leon?” Your eyes blink at him, unsure for a second if he’s the product of a sleep paralysis induced hallucination.

Your lover stands before you with a somewhat dazed expression himself - dark circles engraved below his exhausted eyes, faded bruises on his face, dark veins trailing across his pale skin. He stands transfixed for what feels like forever before he blinks. “Baby.”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your own stupor, and you launch off the bed and straight into his arms. You bury your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him tightly. “You’re home.”

He shudders violently before his arms encircle you as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling the smell of your shampoo - ah, figs and camellia, a breath of fresh air from guts and mold. “I missed you… I almost didn't…” His voice is unsteady, wavering in a way that makes you want to never let go of him.

“It's okay, my love. You're home now, you’re safe.”

“I almost didn't make it… You don’t know what happened…” His hands shake slightly as he grips onto you a little harder.

A lump forms in your throat at the realization that he could have very well perished during this mission. It’s not often that he lets you see him in such a vulnerable state, so hearing the fear decorate his tone causes your heart to squeeze painfully. 

“What happened?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Fine, at least tell me where you were. S’not like I can head there and foil the government’s plans after it’s already over. ”

“...Spain.”

You wonder what kind of horrors had transpired in Spain, but you know better than to inquire further. You hold him close and rub his back soothingly, trying to make him feel as loved as possible. “It's over now, right?”

“Right…” A hint of worry colors his tone as he presses a kiss to your head. “Can we just go to sleep?”

“Of course,” you reach up to gently rub the shadowy veins visible underneath his eyes and creeping up his neck. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Guess my body just went through a lot back there.”

You take his arms, turning them over and over and examining them closely for any serious wounds. Thankfully, you don’t see anything except for the occasional minuscule scrape, though the unnaturally dark veins worry you. You’re afraid they may be the result of some sort of vascular impairment, so you make a promise to yourself that you’ll drag him to the doctor’s office soon for a proper assessment. You help him wash up, letting him use your products so he’s soft and smelling like you. You hold each other close in bed, relishing the feeling of finally being able to sleep in each other’s arms after time apart.

Ouch. You wince slightly as you wake up to the sun streaming in through your lace curtains. You drowsily fumble for Leon’s hand to hold first thing in the morning like you usually do, but the space next to you is empty. You certainly hope you hadn’t just dreamed of his homecoming.

“Baby?” You croak as you wince again. Are you naked? And why are you so sore? Your eyes trail down to your arms which are littered with bruises. Eyes wide like cherry pies, you tug the comforter off to discover that the rest of your bare body is marked in a similar fashion - bruises bloomed across your neck, teeth marks engraved in your breasts, handprints stamped onto your hips like someone had been gripping onto them for dear life. Trembling, you slowly raise yourself up to a sitting position. You squirm as you feel slick in between your thighs, how fresh it is, you can't say for sure.

“Leon?” Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears as you call out for your lover.

You’re dazed as you take a step forward, feeling your body spinning like a ballerina, a delicate little thing that’s been used and abused and stuffed in a box marked FRAGILE. A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, anchoring you to his bare chest- they’re so much warmer than your Leon’s. Your eyes flutter as they gaze straight up into a pair that look like your Leon's except they’re murkier, hungrier. 

Inky blood vessels coagulate underneath his skin, giving him a mottled appearance. They interweave throughout his body like morbid ribbons decorating his limbs for a funeral. He breathes heavily as he squeezes at your already tender body, causing you to whimper.

“Leon, ‘m sore… What did you do?” A low growl reverberates within him as he pulls you back onto the bed, shoving you onto your back. Before you can interrogate him further, his lips smash against yours. His kisses are all teeth and slobber, filled with nothing but the desire to ravage everything you hold near and dear.

“Mine, all mine,” he groans as he latches his lips onto your neck, decorating it with his very own artistic flair. “Mine to keep forever.” You whimper at the way his lips assault your most sensitive point like a wolf ready to tear out the wide eyed fawn’s throat. 

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan which further ignites that primal instinct in him that wants to give you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known, all for the sake of claiming you as his very own mate. He squeezes your tits together and spits on them before rubbing it into your nipples with the rough pads of his thumbs. You squeal at the stimulation as he takes a nipple in his mouth, suckling at it as hard as he can before letting go with a pop.

“God, Leon,” you cry out as he continues to suck on your tits. He pushes them together as hard as he can and forces both nipples into his mouth so he can lap at them like a creature who stumbled across an eternal spring in the vast desert.

“Love these tits,” he groans. “Sweet fucking nipples, made to suck on all day and night. To think they’re gonna get even bigger when they're full of milk.” He pushes his face in between them before finally pulling away with a slap to each one, watching them jiggle with a carnal gaze.

“M-milk?” You whimper as he kisses across your abdomen and lowers down to your leaking pussy.

“Yeah,” he pants as he spreads your dripping folds open with his thumbs, inspecting the remnants of the now stale cum he had dumped inside while you slept like an unsuspecting angel. “Your body has accepted my gift.” A tinge of fear courses through your veins at this last line; you can’t put your finger on why it makes your skin crawl, but they don’t sound like your Leon’s words.

“Gift?” You involuntarily moan as he lets himself drool on your pussy before pressing sloppy kisses straight onto your clit. 

“You’ll take my seed.” He starts lapping at your pussy ruthlessly, but not before grabbing your thighs and forcing them to clamp around his head, keeping him fused to your most intimate parts. Your sweet noises overflow the room as your back arches like he’s possessing you, dragging you down to flail around for eternity among the powerful black winds. Your voice turns shrill as you cum on his salacious tongue. Canto V.

When he finally emerges for air, his eyes are now murkier than before - the once serene blue that inspired such tranquility is now charred, tenebrous. “Leon,” your eyes tear up as you gaze down at him with your elbows propping you up.

“Shh,” he smirks as he raises himself up to pump his hard cock a few times before aligning himself with your pretty hole. “My baby, my lamb. Gonna get your beautiful belly all swollen for me. Gonna creampie you as many times as it takes.” He pushes himself inside your sopping cunt as you wail for the heavens. Your pussy allows him to enter with ease, clenching around him like it needed him to breathe - which it did. He begins to thrust into you with all the vigor of a madman.

“So good for me, my fucking girl,” he pants as he continues to pound into you. He leers at the way your tits bounce at each thrust before leaning over to spit on them. Your chest gleams with his saliva as you moan louder than you ever have before, like your throat really is being ripped out by the big bad wolf. His cock reaches deep, hitting all the spots you know nothing else can, and before you know it, you’re cumming all over him as he continues to pummel into you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to claw onto anything that can keep you physically grounded through your orgasm.

He laughs a little to himself as he continues to fuck you despite the fact you just came. “L-leon,” you cry out. “S’too much, too sensitive.”

“You can take it, been taking it all night.” His balls slap against your ass as he leans down to jam his lips against yours, licking into your mouth until your head’s all dizzy again. He rears back to push your legs up against your chest as his cock pounds into you; the new angle’s making your eyes roll all the way back into your head. “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs to himself as his breath hitches and he stares down at you losing yourself in the mating press. “That’s a good breeding bitch.” His words are hushed, but they bounce around in your head and yank another orgasm out of you, leaving you sobbing from the overstimulation.

“S’okay baby,” he coos as he kisses your salty tears away and wraps a hand around your smooth throat. “You’re doing so well, accepting my gift.” His eyes unsettle you, damn near pitch black as they peer right into yours. Your battered pussy tightens in tandem with the hand gripping your throat. Your tongue lolls out as you start seeing stars, and he sucks on it. “Give me another one, little lamb.”

“C-can’t,” you slur as your limbs dissolve. You want to give him another one. Want it, want to bear his child, want to exist for him. Want to breathe him, let him pump through your circulatory system. His breathing becomes erratic, damn near hysterical, as he nears his own high. He rubs your swollen clit to bring you closer to yet another orgasm, though you wonder if you’ll live to tell the tale once you reach it. He pounds into you as hard as he can, unrestrained growls falling from his lips as he dumps his load into you. You manage to cum yet again, release so intense on your already wasted form, that it shatters your senses. You’re vaguely aware of someone shrieking, and it takes a while to realize that it’s coming from your own mouth. You did it. Your vision goes black, and you slump into unconsciousness. 

The first thing you perceive when you regain consciousness is the calloused hand gently caressing your face as if you’re a china doll. “Leon?” Your mumble brings him to slowly gaze at you with concern and shame.

“Baby.” He raises his other hand to hold yours with all the love and tenderness he could muster. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore… tired…” You frown slightly as you try to sit up, but he stops you from straining yourself. “What happened, Leon?”

“I’m so sorry.” His eyes are cast downwards as if the floor will be more forgiving than his own lover. “I’m not okay.”

“It’s okay,” you frown as you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I could’ve. I thought this thing had resolved itself in Spain.”

“We’ll figure this out together.” You gently tug his arm, signaling to him that for now, you just want him laying with you. He slides into the bed and cautiously rolls you over on your side so that he’s spooning you from behind. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and gives your belly a pat.

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[sttoru]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 !

⟣ sypnosis. you were curious if your boyfriend would pass a ‘loyalty test’ that you’ve seen on social media and you decide to see for yourself, only to discover something much more . . . heartwarming.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. mostly tooth rotting fluff. talks about cheating / a sprinkle of trust issues from reader. the rest is satoru just being lovesick.

⟣ note. uhhhh… idk just a random idea i got at three am on a saturday night after being woken up from a nightmare >_< enjoy .

you don’t think satoru would actually ever cheat on you. your curiosity just got the best of you when you saw that one girl do a ‘loyalty test’ on her boyfriend. it was quite simple—testing if your partner would hand you their phone without being suspiciously defensive.

therefore you walked into satoru’s room and spotted him laying on his side, his back facing the door. he didn’t have any earphones in so you could hear the sounds of a movie playing on the phone he held in his hands.

he seemed so peaceful and content that you were already feeling bad for disturbing him with your silly test. you moved to sit on the edge of the bed and cleared your throat, making your presence known as if the sorcerer hadn’t sensed it moments ago.

“are you cheating on me?”

blunt and straight to the point.

satoru pauses the show on his phone and looks at you like you had said the most outrageous thing there is (to him, you really did). he drops the device on the bed and turns his body to face yours; “well—hello to you too, baby.”

he runs a hand through his hair before sitting up against the headboard with a raised brow, one hand cautiously reaching out for you. satoru was thinking about all the things he has said or done previously that could’ve possibly make you think he was screwing around behind your back. his mind worked fast, though he couldn’t come up with any logical explanation.

“answer my question please, ‘toru.” you mumble, feeling slightly guilty for doing this to your lover. you could see the confusion plastered on his face.

“no, i am not.” satoru shakes his head whilst holding your hand in his, thumb brushing against the back of it, “what makes you think that?”

you weren’t about to say ‘oh nevermind then! just a dumb thing that i saw on tiktok’—no, there was still one thing left to do. even if you’re so super sure that your boyfriend was hiding nothing from you. maybe there was an one in a million chance that your intuition was wrong. or maybe it’s just your underlying trust issues speaking.

“uhh, just wanted.. to check.. i guess?” you clear your throat and take a deep inhale before putting your hand out to satoru, palm up.

the white-haired sorcerer looks from your hand to you, and back. he doesn’t know what that indicated, so he takes a simple guess; satoru places his chin on your palm, giving you an amused kind of grin. you raise an eyebrow as he rests his head on your hand—which wasn’t what you wanted to gain from your gesture.

but you couldn’t blame him. it was cute that that was the first thing he thought of doing.

“you’re always welcome to check. got nothin’ to hide anyway.” he shrugs, not offended by your accusation in the slightest. you see the way his blue eyes look up at you—in a way that shows his pure, unadulterated adoration for you.

you nod and scratch satoru under his chin, to which he smiles and closes his eyes, enjoying the tingling touch, “then can i .. look through your phone?”

without an ounce of hesitation, he had placed his phone unlocked in your hand. satoru doesn’t care much about privacy anyway—you’re his girlfriend, you’re the only one allowed to know every single thing about him, “of course, baby.”

your eyes land on the screen and your jaw drops as you see his home screen; a picture of you up close, sleeping with your cheek squished against his arm, own hands resting near your head and . . . is that drool trickling down your chin?

“oops, sorry, you were too cute not to take a picture of.” satoru chuckles as he sees your reaction. he lays back on his side, elbow propped on the pillow with his head resting against his hand—watching you go through his phone with a relaxed look.

you roll your eyes playfully before starting your search. your finger swiped across the screen and landed on the messenger app satoru uses. you click on it and scroll through his chats, but don’t find anything out of the ordinary. he recently talked to you, his first year students, nanami and shoko.

you curiously tap on his chat with shoko and don’t read anything interesting at first glance. you scroll up and take note of how satoru was the one who kept most of the conversation going. shoko’s replies were much shorter and curt—straight to the point.

but then your eyes land on a conversation from two weeks ago. satoru had showed shoko a bunch of selfies you had sent him that same day. he was telling her how ‘cute’ and ‘pretty’ you were, practically bragging about you being his girl.

you scroll up some more and see that he’s done the same many times before; sending shoko pictures of you and kind of rambling to her about how beautiful you are.

shoko—being the good friend she is—indulged into his little lovesick ramblings and agreed with every thing satoru said—even complimenting your looks herself. you begun to get embarrassed at this unexpected revelation.

when going through more of his chats with other people, you realise how much satoru loves to talk about you. you couldn’t possibly count the many times satoru had refused invitations from his students or other friends simply because he wanted to hang out with you instead.

you discovered that he even skipped two or three important meetings at the school to go spend the day with you—nanami scolding him via text each time he did so.

“damn..” you murmur and glance up at your lover after closing his messaging app. satoru was staring right back at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

he wasn’t embarrassed about you reading some of those cheesy and sappy texts at all. in fact, he was happy. he wants you to know how much he loves you (as if he doesn’t show you exactly that every day of the week).

“go on, sweets.” satoru nods towards his phone, encouraging you to continue your inspection. your eyes dart back towards the screen and you shyly swipe and scroll some more, eventually ending up in his gallery.

the first things you noticed: two albums dedicated to you. all were filled with hundreds of pictures of you (and him). one was named ‘my love,’ the other ‘me&my love’ — both with a heart at the end. scrolling through them, you noticed many images you hadn’t even realised were ever taken.

many of those pictures were also favourited in his gallery.

you nibble on your bottom lip and leave the gallery app even more flustered than before. you aimlessly click around some more on his phone. what really surprised you most was that you were named in his reminder app.

there were tons—all added in one long list. some were so pure that you couldn’t contain the slight tears in your eyes;

‘bring gf gifts’, ‘remind gf that she’s amazing’, ‘bring gf lunch’, ‘send gf daily selfie’, ‘daily cuddles w gf (if she wants)’, ‘give gf big smooch (important!)’, ‘check up on gf when away on business’, — satoru doesn’t actually need to have those reminders on his phone. his mind is so full of you that he’ll automatically remember to do everything, almost on autopilot. he just has those there for… well, just in case he somehow ends up forgetting.

you lock his phone after seeing enough and give it back to your lover. you wordlessly crawl over to him on the bed and snuggle up to his body, head resting on his chest.

“sorry.” you quietly apologise. you knew he wasn’t hiding anything, but the fact that you still went ahead and tried out that ‘loyalty test’ on someone as loyal and loving as satoru makes your heart ache a bit. especially after discovering just how smitten he’s with you.

“dunno why you’re apologising—but please don’t.” satoru whispers and rubs your back in a soothing manner, kissing the top of your head and smiling against your scalp afterwards, “it’s fiiine.”

he’s entertained by the reactions to your discoveries, even if those are but mere indications to the actual unending and undying love he holds for you in his heart.

you lift your head up and look at satoru. your bottom lip stuck out, corners of your mouth twitching slightly whilst your eyes started to get a bit glassy. you really felt bad—yet you also felt appreciated on the other hand. if you didn’t go through with your curious idea, you wouldn’t have gotten to know about any of this.

“aww, my sweet, sweet girl.” satoru coos and places two kisses right below each eye, tapping your nose with a grin. he adores the way you look and if it wasn’t for his self control, he’d have nibbled on those cheeks of yours out of playful aggression.

it’s then that satoru remembers one of his daily tasks; one he hadn’t properly done today.

you were caught off guard once more as satoru’s lips crashed down onto yours—no warning given whatsoever. his big hands held onto your cheeks, thumb rubbing the skin there whilst his glossy lips moved against yours in a gentle yet much sloppy way.

“there,” the white-haired man hums in content as he pulls away, giggling once he sees a bit of his saliva coat your mouth. he wipes it away with his thumb, “your smooch of the day.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggerated cringy way satoru said the latter—your boyfriend laughing right alongside you afterwards.

satoru wasn’t done with you, however. he had many other daily tasks that were yet to be fulfilled.

[writingangst]

Russian Roulette

Summary: Simon Riley takes notice that the reader has a specific way of reloading her gun, which results in him being paranoid to the point he misreads the situation.

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Warnings: violence, angst, cursing, torture, hurt/no comfort.

Words: 2.3K

This was a prompt from Character.AI by user @/kstzii and I had to make this account to post because it really hit the angst spot for me. Hopefully, it does the same for you.

The echo from your sniper rifle was stifled by its silencer as you scored another bullseye. You felt someone's gaze burn into the back of your head. But once you turned, you couldn't see anyone. Must've been my imagination. You reassured yourself as you went back to attempt another shot. No bullets. You quickly reload and reposition yourself to fire off another round.

“What the hell was that?” Your lieutenant's voice called out. You swiftly turned to him. “Reload again.”

“What?” You were caught off guard, the slight hint of a Russian accent slipping out. Shit. You instantly clear your throat to switch back to your usual British accent.

“Are you deaf? I said reload again!” He repeats, his voice booming.

You rearange yourself from your position lying on your stomach, onto your knees, the head of your riffle touching the dirt beneath you. You look at him through slightly narrowed eyes. “Now, why would I reload when I just switched to a perfectly good mag?”

His jaw clenched. You noticied how he was trying to hold himself back. He did this often. You were sharp with your tongue and tended to use it on him often. In more ways than one. Though this time, he didn’t quite seem like he was enjoying it.

“You know exactly what I mean. That was a Russian reload,” he crossed his arms over his chest, the veins in his arms were prominent. It brought you back… No. This was serious.

You laughed it off, seeming unbothered. You were cool. Calm. Collected. Everyone knew you weren’t one to be thrown off your game easily. But this certainley was doing just that. You weren’t about to let him see that though.

With a scoff, you turn your back to him to get a better hold of your gun. “I reckon you haven’t slept, Lieutenant. Could be playing tricks on your sight.”

“I know exactly what I saw,” his tone was cold, but with his clenched fists you knew this was a ticking time bomb. “Do. It. Again.” He ordered in a firm tone. It left no room for any arguments.

You’re stagnant only slightly. There was uneasiness in your stomach at what this could mean. You knew Simon, and you knew Ghost. This was the latter, but you weren’t going to let this play out the way he wanted it to.

“And if not?” You challenge as you turned towards him, eyes sincere as you looked deep into his conflicted ones. “This gonna end in friendly fire?”

In long strides he stepped forward, coming to a halt right in front of you. He pulled you up by your elbow, but you never lost your grip on your weapon. With him being 6’4, you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye. His towering frame was imposing, making you feel small.

He leaned closer, just like he had so many times before. His body only a few inches from yours, but instead of it having the burning effect it usually did, now you were just feeling uncomfortable with the interaction. He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to intimidate you.

“What do you have to lose?” He countered, his voice low, a rumble to his chest.

You took it as a challenge.

With a clenched jaw, you took a step back from him as he severed his grip on your skin. You rid of the magazine wedged within your sniper and your eyes never leave his as you do so. Taking another mag from your tactical gear, you shift to do a simple tactical reload.

He watched you intently, his eyes glued to your every move. You didn’t break a single swet. And even though it seemed like something inherently intimate, you knew it was everything but. Once you finished and kept your straight face on him, he stepped towards you again.

He looked pissed as his eyes flickered to the mag that you just placed into your gun.

“That…” he stated through gritted teeth, gripping your chin with force between his thumb and his forefinger. You were forced to look at him head on. “…isn’t a British reload. Now tell me, who are you really?”

“I’m a simple sniper, sir,” you reply without skipping so much as a beat. “I was chosen for this task because of my outstanding sniper skills.”

Silence ensued.

Then you continued. “But you knew that already. You read my file,” you hissed back at him. “And you’ve trained with me for months, been in my bed, so what exactly are we implying here, Lieutenant?”

He kept his grip on your chin, his fingers digging into your skin. You noticed how he continued to get frustrated that nothing was out in the open like he previously thought it was. He expected you to be defiant, not secretive. A piece was missing and he was paranoid. Something wasn’t right.

Suddently, you’re smashed against the closest tree and your rifle was hitting the ground. You wince as a gruff pained noise falls from your lips once the air is knocked out of you. His vast hand squeezed your neck. Not enough to cut your air supply. Yet. But enough for it to be uncomfortable to breath. There was a sense of betrayal in his eyes and you knew he had assumed the worst.

“You’re a lying Russian spy,” he murmured into your ear with such force you thought you’d faint.

You struggled against him. “I am not Russian, nor am I a spy,” you rasp out as best you can, but you feel him crushing your windpipe. You wouldn’t lie to yourself. You feel hurt. He was one of the closest people you had since joining the 141 task force. Which made you angry. That’s when hurt vacated to make room for the feeling of deception. “But I will not explain myself to you when I have a job to do.”

You attempted to push him off but he was stronger and bulkier than you, making it almost impossible. You understood there that there would be no reasoning with him. Sleep deprivation and high stress levels were obvious indicators of this. You both had been on the field for days, and he had been the one doing most of the lookouts in order for you to get a bit of shuteye. You won’t be a good shot with heavy lids, sweetheart. He once said to you.

“What were you sent to do, huh?” He asked, his voice had lost its edge and now he just sounded distant. “Spy? Assassinate me?”

“Paranoid motherfucker,” you hissed, holding onto his forearm to steady yourself against his grip. “Screw you.”

His eyes narrowed, his grip loosening only slightly. “You sound surprised. You can’t honestly tell me that you expected me to not investigate the mysterious sniper with a Russian reload and accent?”

“And I’m almost certain you couldn’t find a Goddamn thing about anything and that’s why you got me cornered,” you stated as a matter of fact. “I’m not whoever the hell you think I am, and this paranoia is serving to have this mission go south if you don’t let me get to my gun.”

He laughed this time. Honestly, laughed.

You scrunched up your nose. Fuck you, Ghost.

“You don’t think I have dirt on you, sweetheart? I have files on you, more than you can count. I know you, better than you think,” he paused for a second. “I know your weaknesses, likes, dislikes. Everything.”

You laugh bitterly. “I don’t doubt that. Hey, I even had a hand in the shit you know because I trusted you. That still doesn’t mean you know jack shit about what happened in Russia. You’re so inclined? Ask Price!”

“I asked Price!” His hand gave your neck a quick squeeze and you saw how his body trembled. “He didn’t know a damn thing. Said your file was locked and he was denied access. Now why the hell would that be, huh?”

You snorted. “He said that to protect me. I had the whole record wiped. None of this concerns you, Lieutenant. We all went through shit, and you think you’re the only one that’s allowed to be a ghost? Fuck you!”

His eyes narrowed at your words. “Why would he protect you if you have nothing to hide? That makes no sense and you know it.”

“Because my trauma is my trauma! And you have no business budding into it!” 

“And if it’s something that could jeopardize the entire task force?” He muttered, his patience wearing thin. “If it could get everyone killed?”

“You’re an idiot if you think Price would let me anywhere near this damn task force if he considered me a risk,” your voice was cool, but your heart was thumping in your chest. You attempting one last shove that surprisingly caused him to let go. You wheezed when the pressure was off your trachea and you coughed to catch your breath. 

He watched you silently.

Once you composed yourself, you looked back at him as you held your neck. “I thought we were fucking friends, Ghost.”

“Friends?!” He spat exasperatedly. “You really think I would consider you my friend when I know you’re lying? You think I make friends with people I don’t trust?” His eyes were cold, his tone cruel and bitter. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet between your eyes for the simple deceit.”

Aside from the pain emitting from your neck, there was a hollow ache in your chest that was capturing your attention as well. You would relive the trauma if that would mean getting the job done. But when it came to Simon Riley, he was as good as dead to you.

“I was held hostage by Russian forces for 18 months.”

His stance faltered at that. You don’t think you had ever seen him lose his footing like he had in that instance. And his eyes… Christ, he had never changed his expression so fast. What the hell was that? Pity? He could go screw himself.

You continued. “Anything you can think of in torture, triple that. What kept me alive for so long was the fact they wanted to use me. The only way I got out of the constant abuse was the training. So excuse me if I picked up on a thing or two. Even the Godawful accent that creeps into the British one,” you cleared your throat. “I’m not your enemy, Ghost. But you’re right. I’m not your damn friend either.”

As you explained your past, his eyes never left yours as he listened carefully. He expected many things, but he hadn’t taken into consideration you being a literal prisoner to Russian forces. For once in his life, he was speechless. The thought that you had lived through a year and a half of torture at the hands of the Russians was something he could barely imagine.

His gaze had softened, but he hardened again when something wasn’t clicking for him. “Doesn’t explain why your file is locked.”

You snorted humorlessly. “Ever heard of Price’s little sister?”

His eyes widened at the mention of her. The captain was hush hush about the matter, but it was a well known fact he had family within the military. And that she was KIA some time ago. “What about her?”

“You’re looking at her.”

Those were the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. Shock and surprise flashed behind his mask as he finally realized what this meant.

“You’re…” He paused, trying to process the bomb that just exploded in his face. “You’re Price’s sister?”

“In the flesh,” you replied with the same cold tone he had been using earlier with you. “You’re not the only one trying to be ghost. You’ve just never been questioned by the task force on it like you just did to me.” 

What could he say to that?

“I took a bullet for you, Lieutenant,” you reminded him. “What fucking spy does that for the opposite team?”

His jaw clenched and you saw how his mask flexed due to it. His eyes showed how he replayed that memory in his head. It was something he thought about constantly. You had saved him, and he hadn’t seen it coming. He had been so focused on you being a spy that he hadn’t stopped to consider that you were actually on his side.

“I never should have questioned you,” he admitted, his voice quiet as he met your gaze again.

Your hand shot up to stop him from saying anything else on the matter. “It’s done. We’re done here.”

He watched as you walked away to pick up your gun, his mind racing with thoughts but they were too fast for his tongue. He knew he had messed up. He had completely misjudged the situation with the accusations thrown at you when in reality your connection to the task force was stronger than even his.

The irony in the situation wasn’t lost on him, but he didn’t find it funny.

“Wait,” He sighed, taking strides to catch up to you.

“This is unprofessional, Lieutenant,” you stated, dusting off your weapon as you checked for any malfunctions. “We’re in the middle of an active operation. I’m done talking.”

He exhaled a frustrated sigh as you dismissed his attempt at talking to you. He knew you were right, that the mission was what mattered now. But he couldn’t help the feeling that he needed to apologize. It was clawing at his chest, the emotion raw in his throat, asking to be let out in word vomit.

“You can’t honestly expect us to just ignore what happened and continue on like normal?”

Silence followed.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Go back to being Ghost, because Simon Riley is fucking dead to me.”