#but i need to hit our writing center first

[lucillasstrap]

Friend wheres that post/rant in which u said it wouldve been better if lucius was 🤬🤬🤬 abt rome instead after all this bs he went thru bcs lets be fr ridley messed up

i feel like yapping today (when do i not) so fuck it heres my Big Lucius Post

i have quite a lot of thoughts abt lucius’ character that vary in seriousness based on how much i feel like trying to meet ridley scott where he’s at that day but in general i think the biggest failure to him was to not let him actually remain angry at anyone. for characterizing him as ‘full of rage,’ it’s disappointing to see that he doesn’t seem to actually internalize anything that’s done to him. the grudge he holds against lucilla is solved with remarkable ease and he manages to get over wanting to kill acacius (which is 100% justified) just because he suddenly realizes the emperors are worse? in that one moment? whatever

the only people he actually maintains ‘rage’ against are macrinus and uhhhhh the slaver guy whos name i forget which obviously yeah is righteous anger. but i can’t help but feel like they receive lucius’ vengeance because they are bad guys in this movie, not because lucius deserves to kill them. im not sitting here complaining that he was able to kill his masters, im annoyed that they receive the brunt of what seemingly should be a deeper, foundational anger at the actual close people in his life who directly put him in this position

having lucius believing in the ‘dream of rome’ is silly to me because all he knows of rome is the corruption he witnessed when he was a child, and then being cast away(‘abandoned’) directly in relation to that corruption. he should have no real reason to care about the version of rome that supposedly existed in marcus aurelius’ head—which, by the way, also just makes him look fucking stupid because we get macrinus’ backstory where he directly tells the audience macrus aurelius isn’t the saint everyone acts like he was. this random conviction lucius has about returning to a ‘good’ rome is literally just bullshit like WHY

as a lucilla lover(obviously) it pains me to say it but it makes way more sense for lucius to not forgive her, and as a contrarian it’s easy for me to say he 100% should have killed acacius. that man deserved to die by the hand of the oppressed person he violently conquered, not made into a martyr as a beacon of goodness. his death is made into lucius’ burden, as is lucilla’s, for no reason

the reason i think lucius isn’t angry at the right people in this movie is because it’s not a good time (in a/merican politics) for a movie about the dismantling and overthrowing of imperial force by the people they have enslaved and oppressed. BUT if you want to have more fun with it, i think one of the reasons lucius’ anger seemingly ebbs and flows at random has something to do with his relation to commodus and what kind of temperament hit baby lucius after growing up in his formative years being besties with his sociopath uncle

to keep it short(because this is getting long) i think a lot of commodus is recalled in lucius(uneven temper, lashing out contrasted with emotional shutdowns, desperation to be cared about) which could explain why his anger at the right people is messy. maybe he’s aware of a behavior pattern in himself that, honestly, is the only thing about the rome he knew that people would call ‘bad’—commodus was evil, there’s a good rome underneath. i think maybe him only having childish memories of the bad emperor ruining things could make him more likely to try to stop what he sees as irrational aggression towards the ‘good’ guys in the palace because it feels like the boogeyman of his childhood. this is the lens i use when i see how his aggression in the arena and in his revenge against macrinus and whatsisname is really kinda like. obvious overkill? to me it’s catharsis. he’s redirecting the reasonable anger towards people who systematically did this to him towards people who, while also deserving, are not the ones he’s actually mad at, but they’re the ‘bad guys’ he doesn’t have to feel commodus-like for hating

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

Young at Heart - Alternate!Silco x GN!Reader

This all came about from a 'Late Night Thought' I had last week and i didn't think it would have any traction and it seemed to take off. So, I wrote the fic. (The poll wanted it the Alternate timeline Silco. This is my first time writing this version of him)

((Fluff, humour and established relationship) with a suggestive ending)

When Silco asked me to drop everything and meet him in the upstairs office ASAP. You know I threw my bar rag a little too hard in the direction of my co-worker, hitting him square in the face, declaring I was taking my break early. I couldn’t even hear their disgruntled profanity ridden response. As I was already hopping up the staircase, taking some of the steps two at a time. When I burst through the door, my excitement instantly vanished.  

“When did a bomb go off in here?” I chuckle dryly as I try to edge my way into the office to get a better look. Papers were strewn about all over the floor, boxes overflowing with files and receipts that surround a rather dishevelled looking SIlco who was sat in the center of the explosion.  

“Ah, you’re finally here. You can start over that side of the room.” Not even looking up from his mismatched pile of papers, he waved off in the general direction he wanted me to be. 

“Ya knooooow. When you told me to drop everything, this was not what I had in mind.” I sighed as I slowly manoeuvre my way, without slipping, through piles of documents and files to the far corner where he wanted me to begin. “Why are you needing my help exactly?” I ask flicking the lid off a box stuffed with all sorts of crap I couldn’t care less about. 

“I’m trying to find certain set of files that I need to update the agreement we have on the bar but as you can see from the mess around you that the filing system I had perfectly in place was not up to standard and I'm needing to go through everything again because ‘some’ people did not see fit to follow my system.” 

I can hear the exasperation laced in his voice.  

“Where is Vander and why isn’t he helping you with this?” I turn to face Silco, he meets my eye. 

“He is out trying to buy me the time to find said files. It’s the least he can do after this.” He gestured to the mess around the room. “He thought he knew exactly where the files were and . . .” He imitates an explosion sound throwing some of the papers he held to get his point across. I wince at the realisation of it all. 

“How long have you been going at this? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” I lean gently against the bookshelf as to not upset any boxes nearby. 

“Hours have become days and I'll be damned if it becomes weeks.” He throws the last of the papers in his hand down onto a makeshift pile that collapses under its own weight. “Urgh, fuck me!” he rubs at the bridge of his nose.  

“If I'm honest I thought that’s why you called for me.” I smirk at his gently reddening cheeks. Choosing to change the subject matter I ask. “What do these files actually look like? I might be able to help you better knowing what I'm trying to find.” 

Silco realising his basic error, begins to explain what I needed to assist him in recovering before we settle back into the search again. 

----- 

The task carries on for a few more hours in a comfortable silence. I had to ask if someone could talk to my coworker about my elongated break. When SIlco requires my presence most of the time he calls me away from work it's for a brief yet hot and handsy make out session that leaves me flustered when I go back to my post. Our relationship was known only to a few close friends and family. But I’m pretty sure everyone knows now because he and I aren’t quiet by any means. Yet nobody says anything about it to protect his professional image. 

“AHA!” Silco exclaims aloud as he stands up from the desk chair, a few precious papers clutched in hand. 

“Found them I see.” I glance over my shoulder briefly at his gleeful face. 

“Yes, finally.” He lets out a sigh in relief, looking over to where I was preoccupied with a box that he didn’t realise was accessible to me. “Please stay out of that one. It's labelled private for a reason.” His voice catches when he saw what I held. 

“Daaaaamn, so it is true.” I turn waltzing over to him, being careful of the still very messy floor, I flip the photo over in my fingers so he can see better. 

“Give me that.” When I get close enough, he reaches out for worn item in my hand. I lift it just out of reach above my head, playing a little game of keep away with his beloved memory. He steps nearer to me, so our chests are touching. 

“Oooo, so close.” I change hands quickly keeping the photograph away from his long fingers. “Come on you can do better than that sweetheart.” I smirk booping his nose quickly with the corner of the photograph before pulling my hand away again. His left arm snakes around my waist turning us around enough so he can push me backwards onto the desk with him almost straddling my right thigh. 

“Well now” I wiggle my brows suggestively, making sure the photograph is still too far away to grab in our new position. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” He rolls his eyes at me as he leans closer for the photograph. 

“Funny you say that as it’s normally you dragging me down with you.” I lift my knee grazing his inner thigh causing him pause. 

He says my name in a warning way. 

“Okay Mr Serious pants.” I reply in a mocking tone. 

He manages to finally grab the photo from me, checking it for rips or tears before pulling away and walking back to place it safely back into the box of memories. I follow behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my chin on his shoulder. 

“Next time you see a something marked private. I expect you to respect my privacy.” He places a one hand on top of the box of memories and the other rests atop my crossed arms. He sighs again.  

“Maybe you can grow it out again.” I let my inner thoughts be known. 

“What are you talking about?” He turns his head to the side to look at me. I pull one arm away so I can thread my fingers through his much shorter hair, scratching lazily at his scalp. Pulling a low moan from his throat. 

“Your hair darling, that picture proved you can rock the style, plus we know how much of a whore you can be when I do this.” I pull lightly on his hair making him gasp. 

“Don’t you think I’m too old for that style.” His breathing was ragged as he tries to remain calm. I chuckle darkly at my flustered partner, with practiced ease I spin him so I loom above him, lifting his chin with a single finger. 

“Of course, darling.” I lean down our lips graze with my words. “You’re just proof that men get finer with age.” He smiles at my words as I steal his response away with a soft kiss.  

-----

I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy reading it

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am not sure where my fascination with disasters came from, but I have had it for a long, long time. So much so that I very specifically remember being in Middle School and writing a short story about a tornado hitting our school and trapping all the students in the gym (but none of the teachers, of course, because what fun would it be if the teachers were around?). My poor teacher didn't quite know what to do with me when she tried to pair everyone up by genre to critique one another's stories, as no one else had written something remotely similar. It didn't matter though, I was hooked. That afternoon I was standing in my garage and thinking about how I wanted to grow up to be an author who wrote disaster stories, and I wanted to write one story about each kind of disaster.

After several years (and two agents) trying to get these books picked up traditionally with no luck, I've decided to just do it myself. And so, the Little Disaster Books collection has been born! When you pick up a Little Disaster Book, here's what you're going to get:

A short read. Each book is around 50,000-70,000 words. That's a bit longer than a novella, and shorter than most novels, because sometimes you just need a quick book, not a door-stopper.

Each book is a standalone. Because, again, sometimes you just need something quick that you don't have to invest in for a decade while you wait for each book to come out.

Lots of queer characters of all sorts. The disaster genre is, unfortunately, pretty notorious for either not having queer characters at all, or killing them off. Little Disaster Books will instead center them and their narratives. But, the stories won't be ABOUT queerness, they'll just have characters that are queer.

No quickie romance. There will be characters in relationships (I'm a sucker for books with couples that are already together at the start), and maybe the first blooms of a potential romance, but nobody is falling head over heels when they should be focused on survival.

No gore for gore's sake. Characters might get hurt, or even die, but these aren't horror books or slasher books or anything in that vein.

A realistic look at disaster. I'm not just obsessed with fictional disasters, I'm obsessed with the real ones too. I have spent a lot of time studying disasters, myths around disasters/disaster response, and the sociology of disasters. With Little Disaster Books I have worked very, very hard to make the books as realistic as possible when it comes to things like civilian responders, everyday heroes, and how disaster response tends to work. At the end of the day they are still fiction, but they're fiction heavily grounded in reality. No "everyone for themselves/we're all animals when the lights go out" nonsense here.

Full endings. There's a bit of a trend in survival thrillers for them to end right at the climax/moment of rescue, or within a few pages of it, even if things haven't been fully wrapped up. Little Disaster Books will all have more rounded endings that delve, at least a little bit, into the aftereffects of what the characters go through, because sometimes the after is the hardest part of all.

The first book in this collection, Lie Down in the Ashes, is launching on Kickstarter on Janaury 15th, 2025! Sign up to be notified on launch here. It is about a group of teens who get caught in the middle of a fast moving wildfire that one of them accidentally starts.

Sign up to be notified on launch here.

[v3lv3tsin]

moonstruck: nishimura riki

| pairning: nishimura riki x reader

I genre: prince!niki, princess!reader

I warnings: no warnings <3

I word count: 1.8k

I stefy's note: just a little something before i actually come back and post the last part of the jungwon series (i'm really sorry it took so long to write but i was busy with uni and some resits), so enjoy :)

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

If anyone would have asked what do you like about Niki, you would have said before that it was his smile, but now ever since getting to know him better that answer changed and so have you. His sense of humor, especially when having guest to entertain was what made you two get close to each other in the first place.

It was easy how it happened and since none of you planned for it to happen made it even more special. But your mother never approved of him, saying that he "wouldn't be a good enough suitor for you" nor a good husband from the way he was behaving.

He was known to be more of carefree than other princes were, but maybe that's what made you notice him. Or maybe it was the sly smile he always gave you whenever you'd meet.

What came to your surprise was that although your mother seemed to be very keen on keeping the two of you apart for as long as possible it didn't seem to work all the time. And this was the case for when Niki invited other distinguished guests, such as Mr. Yang, Mr. Park and Mr. Sim, alongside you. Obviously.

To your surprise, your mother seemed to have approved of the invitation long before you could've even proposed the idea to her. Meaning that you would be accompanied by your governess. Saying that you weren't excited even a bit to see him, was a lie in itself. There was no doubt that his father approved of the party to be held at their spring residence. You heard about the stories about the fountains and their respective tricks so being able to experience it sounded perfect already.

So that is how you and your governess, Claire, found yourselves waiting to be escorted into the gardens and fountains of the residence, by Niki and his father. It didn't take long to see Nikis smile widening as soon as he saw you waiting for him and his father to be able to welcome you properly, as if he didn't plan this whole party just to see you and hear your voice. Having to go to all the trouble of convincing his father that having his others friends coming to the party it would distract him from even talking to you in the first place.

Realizing they might be busy with the guests that would have to be arriving soon or they already arrived, the butler escorts you into the gardens with a small grin as if he knew that would happen when you would enter the garden area. As soon as you enter through the gates you're met with a slight splash of water coming from the statutes guarding the fountains at the center of the garden. Although the water didn't get too much on your dress as it wasn't a lot, it made you laugh just a little bit.

One thing is for sure that this was no ordinary party. And another thing that you realized was that water will be involved.

Before being able exit being hit by the water in the first place, you finally make eye contact with Niki, seeing that he was laughing too. Coming to greet and welcome you to their spring residence, were both him and his father. "Welcome to our little house, Mrs. Choi." Mr. Nishimura, Niki's father says on a modest tone, knowing that the residence wasn't close to being little.

"Thank you for inviting me." You smile happily, knowing how much of a fuss was for him and his son to be able to have this many guests in their private residence. Smiling at Niki before to his father, you're met with the news that lunch would be served soon, as one of the butlers came to announce Mr. Nishimura.

"I see that you've already met my son." His father feels the need to point out that your relationship with his son was far from a friendship from what he could grasp at first sight. Without wanting to have more of the awkward silence that seemed to be happening for some time now, his father voices on the same tone as before, making sure to let the two of you talk in peace. "Lunch will be served soon."

"I'm surprised your mother decided to let you come alone." Niki speaks on a teasing tone, thinking it was high time that he talks about most feared topic between the two of you. Your mother. It was true that his father agreed to plan the party and sent you an invitation, and not your mother, knowing that she would never let you come to it.

"She is busy with tonight's party." You answer him giving him barely any information about your plans for the night as you were missing your mother's party instead of being there to help her organize everything. "But you knew that very well." You continue on the same tone wanting to let him know that it was his idea this party, in the first place.

"I missed you." Niki blurs out while rubbing the back of his neck, in a whispery tone as he looks at you. It was true, he did. Ever since you spent more time together he couldn't take his mind off you as much as he tried.

"Lunch should be served soon." You answer by changing the topic, not wanting to talk to him about the feelings you have been developing for him lately. Or ever since you first met him at one of Mr. Yang's parties. Heading to the stunningly looking table, that seemed to made out of stone having around it shining stone seats. One interesting aspect about the stone seats was that they all seemed to have a hole in the middle of them. It did seem uncomfortable at first, but when you saw Niki sit down next you, all of it was gone.

Usually you would be the one to complain about how comfortable or not something was, but it seemed that this was not the case. Everyone around the table seemed to be enjoying themselves, you finally make eye contact with Niki's father who seemed to be in an intense conversation with his son while you were sharing your thoughts with one of Mr. Park's date. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever you could feel something coming from the back of you.

Water. Splashes of water everywhere. Surrounding the whole table. From the front and from the back.

The delicious meal in front of you was not drenched in water and so were you. Not as much as you have except as the dress having so many layers managed to block some of the water coming from the chair you were sitting on.

"Gentlemen, i think it is better to enjoy the view somewhere else." Wearing a smirk on his face was now Mr. Nishimura, Nki's father who seemed to be enjoying the annoyed or the surprised faces of his guests. As much as you hated your mother for forbidding you to see Niki, there was one aspect that you two usually agree on.

Never, under no circumstance, piss of Mr. Nishimura. As charming as his son can be, the Nishimuras have always been known for getting their revenge, one way or another.

Getting up from your seat to follow Niki's father, who was now leading the way to what looked like to be a mechanical music-playing theatre. It was nothing you have seen before. While walking to the theatre you felt Niki's hand holding yours as the two of you followed his fathers lead. The place was beautiful to say the least, each statute had water coming from it in a peaceful manner. Some were showing scenes you have never seen before, such as a demon like face who had its tongue coming out, along with water coming out of its nose or two lovers walking together, hand in hand, in a forest.

Before you could see the theatre in its full glory, Niki whispered to you. "Come, i know a place when we'll be just fine." Just fine? Not being hit by the water again sounded perfectly so you followed him willingly. He surely knew more about the place than you, but knowing him he was surely planning something.

Sitting in front of a tower-like palace you could a court life, showing different professions, whether it is the building work-party, the daily workers who bring building materials to the foreman, who drinks, or the butchers slaughtering an ox, or the barber who shaves a man beneath his guild sign. The palace was surrounded by a three-storey building in a semicircle, partly giving a view into its interior.

Busy  activity  takes  place  on  the  street:  a  dancing  bear  performs, guards march past the Residence, a farmer pushes an old woman in a wheelbarrow  over  the  road.  Figures  from  the  Commedia  dell’arte  are also to be seen, and if one so wishes, one can discern the social status of the figures involved. The most noble move less and more slowly that the workers. 

Holding your waist from behind as you watched the now music-playing theatre was Niki, that was whispering to you new information about the palace-like theatre. "200 figurines, powered by water." It wasn't a lot of information, but thinking that these 200 figurines were moving by the help of water, was something innovative. Considering that the both of you sat pretty far in the back, for any of you to be able to see anything, you suggested moving forward to be able to watch the scene better.

Not long after the mechanical theatre stopped from Mr. Nishimuras signal, water started splashing again. Slower this time, but still a lot. Considering that you and Niki were far back, the water didn't get to you. That is when you decided to ask him, how or why did that happen. Seeing that your curiosity was peaked, Niki answers before you could open you mouth to even ask the question. "This spot is never wet. There's no water conduit here."

Taking your hand in his as his father was now leading the gentlemen to a church looking like building, Niki was leading you outside the beautiful garden. Trying to avoid the water coming from the different parts of them, he took your face in his hands and said on a loving whispery tone. "I waited so long to do this."

Before you could protest, his lips found yours and all seemed forgotten. Your mum not letting you see him again. Your governess having to accompany you to the party. The disapproving looks his father would give you from time to time.

All of it was gone.

© V3LV3TSIN — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[alastorss]

we've seen Alastor with deaf reader. but what about Alastor and blind reader?

how confusing it would be for them meeting Alastor for the first time with the radio filter overlaying his voice

and how confusing it would be for our deer man to find out he grew soft spot for reader? bc they find his voice very soothing to listen? since their hearing senses are hightened due to the blindness

so in one of their shared peaceful moments he asks reader if they want to see him. and to answer their startled expression he just brings their hands to lay on his face.. for them to "read" his appearence..

sorry if there are mistakes, Im not eng. love your writing sm, thanks for quality food you bring us, fluff-starved people!

💕

a/n: hiii hun!! i'm so so sorry i took so long to respond to this, but i really wanted to write something for this because aaaaahhhhh that's such a good idea omg 😭❤️ i hope you like it!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor once believed himself to be the demon of all demons.

He was everything a Sinner wanted to be and everything a Sinner feared in one soul—a package wrapped up pretty with a bowtie. He loved it. Thrived on it.

There was something so delicious about terror.

He played into his horrifying image. Purposefully made his presence known; broadcasted screams for all to hear. Power and fame only made him greedier for souls.

Being the center of attention came naturally for him. As natural as breathing, friends would jest. He attracted eyes wherever he went. Some admiring. Some not.

So it was quite a shock when you bumped right into him on the street and didn't immediately comb him over with your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you quickly stammered out, fiddling with your own sleeves.

Finally, you looked at him, but he could tell you were just looking for the sake of looking. Absently, you stared at him as you waited for a response.

Perhaps you expected him to chew you out. To lay a hand on you or to drag you into the alley so he could kick you until you bled. He could see it in your expression.

His heart uncharacteristically ached.

Instead, he steadied you by the shoulders and fixed a stray lock of hair out of your face.

"Carry on, my dear," he mused.

He was surprised with how pleased he was when you smiled at him. Big and wide—charming, really. He was hooked.

Alastor became a frequent in the area, always keeping his eyes peeled for you so he could take your arm into his and ferry you around. You insisted that you were fine, that you didn't need help, but he denied that those were his intentions. He simply wanted your company.

(And to scare off any other demons who had hit you or spat at you before.)

Eventually, you grew fond of him, too.

You could hear him so clearly—the trail of death and despair he left behind was loud, after all. Screaming souls followed his every move. For some reason, it comforted you.

He never tried playing nasty pranks on you. Never tried sneaking up behind you just to scare you, or hit you just because he could.

Alastor did not feel like a demon anymore.

Sinister and cruel, he thought the words didn't suit him when you were walking hand-in-hand.

For as many lives as he took, he had a soft spot for you.

His very presence brought you ease. You knew no one dared to approach a weak Sinner like you when you had him dangling off your arm. He found ways to fill the silence when you weren't chatting, just assuring you he was there.

"You're too kind to me," you once said to him. "You're not an angel trying to trick me, are you?"

"I am!" He chuckled, feeding into your little joke.

The way you laughed made his heart squeeze in the same way it had when he first met you. For a moment he felt nothing but guilt burn in his stomach.

He was the demon of all demons, but for some reason, he couldn't stand you thinking he was a demon at all.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Ever since convincing you to come to the hotel with him, you've not left his side once.

Not that he was complaining about it.

Surrounded with new people and often jolting out of your own skin whenever they began impromptu musical numbers, Alastor could tell you were entirely out of your element.

You were slowly but surely beginning to open up to your new home and the compatriots that came with it. However, you were always the most relaxed with the Radio Demon's soothing presence. He found himself cherishing the moments that you spent alone.

Conversation was not needed to tell each other how you felt. He appreciated that the most.

It's why he is slightly confused when you open your mouth as if you want to say something before snapping it shut with a loud huff. Again and again, you keep it up, sighing and groaning quietly to yourself.

Finally, Alastor has had enough. "Is something the matter, dear?" He asks, peering up from his newspaper to eye you on the other end of the couch.

"N-No!" You squeak, fumbling around with your hands like a cartoon character. "I just..."

He waits for you to continue, only to be met with deafening silence. Sighing to himself, he sets down his paper and scoots over to your side.

"Go on," he gently urges.

"I don't want to be a bother," you say quietly after a pause of hesitation.

He only stares at you, flabbergasted by the way you start to pull away from him. Stopping you by giving your shoulder a squeeze, he swallows harshly.

Your heart is racing so loud that he can hear it roaring in his own sensitive ears.

"You are never a bother," he quickly assures. "Come now, look at me."

Your brows furrow, unsure of what he wants you to do. You slowly turn your head to him with a confused scrunch of the nose. In all the time that you had known each other, he had never asked you to do something so pointless.

"Look at me," he pushes, hands sliding down your arms to take yours. He tugs you closer and brings your hands up to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks.

Careful not to nick your skin with his teeth, his smile softens. Your hands roam his face tenderly, subtly squeezing at the fat of his cheeks. With your fingers tracing every part of him, from the bridge of his nose to his brows to the infinite curve of his smile, you relax.

"I'm a monster."

He had always tried to convince you that he wasn't terrible. That he was worthy of having your hands cupping his cheeks. But you could feel it—his smile. His antlers.

He's never felt vulnerable before. For some reason, it feels good to open up to you.

"You're just as pretty as I always imagined," you tell him with a shake of your head. Alastor flushes at your words.

No dishonesty. No fear. Your heart has stopped pounding in your ribcage.

That's right. He was kind to you, even though he was a beast. The demon had always thought that what he wanted most was to be feared, but he was wrong. You knew his heart before his form.

He shifts so he can kiss your fingertips.

"Well? What would you like to say?"

You suddenly freeze up, lips pressed into a thin line. Flustered, you sputter. "Nevermind, please just forget about that!"

"Oh? Keeping secrets from me isn't very nice, darling~" he muses. You groan, pulling your hands back to your own face to hide it.

Alastor only laughs, static crackling in his voice as he does. He leans forward, gently prying your wrists to reveal your face again so he can press his lips to your forehead.

He knows. The way you melt into his arms is enough. No conversation needed.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee (send an ask to be added!)

[the-californicationist]

Hiii

First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖

Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶

Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌

Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?

Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥

Thank you a loooot. (*＾3＾）/～♡

Do No Harm

After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.

AO3 Link

TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play

When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 

“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 

“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 

You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 

The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 

You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 

He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 

It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 

“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 

You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 

“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 

You smiled down at him, joking around,

“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 

“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”

“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 

You pitied him, winking cheekily, 

“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”

His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 

You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 

He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 

You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 

Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 

You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 

You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 

You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?

You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 

“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”

“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”

“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”

“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 

But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 

“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”

“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 

“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”

He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 

“You want me to stop? Hm?”

The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 

Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 

“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”

“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”

“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 

In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 

You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 

“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 

Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 

The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 

You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 

Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 

As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 

You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 

You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 

Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 

“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”

You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 

“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”

All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 

“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.

You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 

He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 

Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 

He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 

“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”

He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 

You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 

He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 

You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 

“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”

You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 

“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”

“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 

“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 

Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.

[pinkyqily]

Could you writr smt with Vicky and maybe reader bit older than her trying to teach her to drive and pass the test and it being absolutely chaos for them two? Maybe like as chaos that they need try get Irene or Marta to help (Basicly anyone of the elder but not Alexia thanks)

𝙁𝘼𝙎𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙊𝙎 - platonic vicky Lopez x reader x Irene Paredes

Summary: You and vicky cause havoc when you had to get your drivers license, but else to stop both of other than the mother of the group Irene.

Contains: cursing, funny banter, going back and forth in English and Spainsh, hate comments, also pictures used in the instagram acc doesn't not represent readers only there for aesthetic reasons so feel free to use your own description. 2y age gap as vicky is 18 and reader 20, if the age gap makes anyone uncomfortable plz let me know and I'll change it

A/n: apologizes that it took me a long time to reply and get this done but here it's and I hope that you enjoyed reading this cause it was a lot of fun writing this 💕 and I found it funny how you didn't want a alexia mention 😭 there's only a small mention of her in the social media part. There's also going to be 2 more parts cause who doesn't want there love to continue.

Anyways don't forget to like,reblog and comments as they help my page and motivate me 🫶🏿

It was during an away game where you had overheard vicky talking about how she was getting ready for her driving license.

and she was talking about how she needed someone who already knew how to drive to teach her, so she doesn't look like a fool whe she get to the center for her practices.

You being the experienced driver yourself and had recently gotten yours. decided to offer your help to her in which you received a laughing vicky in your face.

"Usted es un conductor experimentado, ¿en qué ciudad?" She said while laughing

"This one belive it or not my driving is exceptional". You tried convincing her.

"Si eres excepcional, no me gustaría saber cuáles son las habilidades de conducción de Salma".

"Salma?who can barely drive herself outside of her own parking lot is who you're comparing me too I fear you've lost it."

"Por favor Salma, conducir es como una brisa".

"brisa sure a one way tickets to a real madrid game in which you guys crash before you get there". You said to her.

By now both of you where going back and forth on which one of you had bad driving.

"Está bien, dejaré que me enseñes porque nadie más se ofreció".

"Meet me after our game on Friday."

Friday came around pretty quickly, and you found yourself in a free area to help vicky practice. The first few days went pretty calmly as she already knew the basics.

It was around your one week mark of teaching her that things to a turn for worse.

you had decided that you both would take turns driving out. distance being from your place to a near by cafe, going and returning.

Vicky had done perfectly fine, fine being hitting a few stuff but she got her act right. It finally was your turn until one asshole decided to pass your light speeding and almost hitting your car as you we're in front.

But you weren't one of those drivers who would let it slide.

You rolled down your cars windows and started cursing out the guy in your broken spanish as your blood was boiling when you saw his car infront of you. The audacity of reckless drivers now are days.

"¿Tu cerebro está tan dañado que necesitabas chocar mi auto?." You yelled out from your window

"Estás jodidamente atónito de que no puedas hablar. Pensé que estábamos conduciendo y no teníamos como objetivo quitar vidas". You said to the driver who stil hasn't responded by now a few people where coming out to see what was going on.

The driver was at least 5'0 when he came outside of his car coming your way. Seeing him from your rare light you also decided to get out because there was no way he was going to intimate your ass.

"Vicky just stay here and keep the door closed this Canadian driver is about to go bonkers".

"¿Seguro que quieres salir allí?" She asked you

"The last thing I'm having is that guy thinking he can hit my car and think he can get out of it". You said to her.

"Aye don't be worry I'll just go out there take a picture the damage and his drivers plates so I can get it insured". grabbing her hands as you could tell she was getting worried.

"solo que nada mas". She said

"Can't promise you no trouble though". You told her as you got out of the car. Thank God for athleticism because the moment the guys saw a tall women coming out the car he had change directions of where he was going.

Who was intimidating who now?. You did what you told vicky taking pictures of the damages and drivers plates. All of a sudden your felt someone tap your shoulders but you where quick to catch there hands due to fast reflase.

Looking up and seeing your Barcelona teammates and mother figure Irene starring at you.

"¿Qué está pasando?" preguntó ella".

"Some asshole started It and aye being tall has it privileges". You told her half joking.

"Por favor dime que Vicky no está en tu auto".

"Well she is cause I was teaching her how to drive until this mess". You said pointing to your car and the dumb driver.

"Bueno, ustedes necesitarían un auto nuevo porque el suyo necesita una reparación total." She said to you instead of whatever speech you thought she'll had given you on.

"I'll have to rent one ugh speaking of renting one this one isn't even mine to being with". You told her now remember this was a car the club had gotten you so your transportation could be easier.

"No te preocupes, ellos lo entenderán, además, claramente no es tu culpa". She said

From then on she came to every single practice she could make it to so that she could monitor your teaching and Vicky's driving.

Thankfully the club was able to understand the situation and you got a new one.

The day of Vicky's finally test came pleased to say she passed with flying marks and now has her drivers license. As she told you over the phone the moment she found out

"Told you I was an expectation all driver and teacher". You said to her playfully hitting her arm

"No eras tan malo como pensaba". She told you

"So your accepting the fact that I'm a great driver".you told her

Bueno, no genial, no te adelantes". She said but this time around her tone was very much different to the teasing one she normally use on a close friends.

After your call with vicky you had decided to drive to her place.

she did deserve a celebration for passing her test wasn't everyday people pass it, so you told yourself, but it was more of a excuse for you to just see her.

She was quite flustered to see at her place considering both of your just off the phone. You took her out to her favorite snack shop and told her she could pick as much stuff she wanted that it was all on you.

She brought some ice cream and a bag if snack filled with both your favorites for away games.

You found yourself starring at vicky in a i wanna be more than friends way, the way her lips would touch on the ice cream leaving a traces of it on her cheeks, the chil wind slowly blowing through her bouncing curlys.

You felt like grabbing a pices of her curlys but held yourself back

YourInstagram&vickylopez

Victories are meant to be celebrated @vickylopez

Comments

@Woso_fan are they dating?

@Ona.batlle what are we celebrating that the whole gang isn't there

》yourreplied vicky passing her drivers test thanks to my amazing teaching

》vickylopezreplied Estábamos de acuerdo en que bueno ¿de dónde salió lo asombroso?

@Salmaparalluelo ese beso parece un poco antipático mantén tus gérmenes lejos de mi hermana pequeña

《Youreplied calm down I haven't taken your sister from you yet

》comments has been deleted

《You replied calm down we're just having fun

@cattta.coll feeling a little disappointed on not being invited

@Claudiapina La primera foto es romántica creo @vickylopez @yourusernamee

《Youreplied worry about fans suspecting you and @patriguijarro being together

《@Claudiapina sí, solo somos mejores amigas

《Youreplied Bestfriend who spend the whole summer together

@viickylopez the best teacher 😄

《Liked by creator

@vickyandyournamesupremacy I knew something was going on with them after that el classico

《@Wosoloveseveryone replied don't spread misinformation like vicky would date a thing like that

《@allaboutwoso replied wait what

《@wosoloveseveryone replied you can check my page I've posted the moments between these and it quite obvious they're more than friends or want to be more than friends

@alexiaputellass ¿qué es esto?

《Comment has been deleted

Translations

"You are an experienced driver, in which city?" - "Usted es un conductor experimentado, ¿en qué ciudad?"

"If you are exceptional, I wouldn't like to know what Salma's driving skills are - "Si eres excepcional, no me gustaría saber cuáles son las habilidades de conducción de Salma".

"Please Salma, driving is like a breeze." - "Por favor Salma, conducir es como una brisa".

"Okay, I'll let you teach me since no one else volunteered." - "Está bien, dejaré que me enseñes porque nadie más se ofreció".

"What's going on?" - "¿Qué está pasando?"

"Is your brain so damaged that you needed to crash my car?" - "¿Tu cerebro está tan dañado que necesitabas chocar mi auto?."

"You're fucking stunned that you can't talk. I thought we were driving and not aiming to take lives."- "Estás jodidamente atónito de que no puedas hablar. Pensé que estábamos conduciendo y no teníamos como objetivo quitar vidas".

"Are you sure you want to go out there?" - "¿Seguro que quieres salir allí?"

"just nothing more." - "solo que nada mas".

"Please tell me Vicky isn't in your car." - "Por favor dime que Vicky no está en tu auto".

"Well, you'd need a new car because yours needs a complete repairing." - "Bueno, ustedes necesitarían un auto nuevo porque el suyo necesita una reparación total."

"Don't worry, they'll understand, besides, it's clearly not your fault."- "No te preocupes, ellos lo entenderán, además, claramente no es tu culpa".

"You weren't as bad as I thought."- "No eras tan malo como pensaba".

[and-claudia]

Tyler Owens x fem!reader (Twisters) Kinktober #3

Warnings: public sex/videotaping/live streaming, oral (m receiving), road head (don't do this guys it's very unsafe), p in v (let me know if I missed any!)

Also please be nice, this is my first time writing For him and my first time writing Oral with m reciving...

Words: 1400

Kinktober taglist

I sat in the front seat as Tyler drove. We had been out all day chasing. It had been a good day. Great structure, even a decent EF 3 tornado spun up for us. 

“Looks like our storms are dying out, Ty.” I said, looking at the radar. 

He glanced over at the screen as I turned it to him. 

“I think you’re right, sweetheart. It was a pretty damn good day, though.” He said, glancing between me and the road before looking at the camera that was mounted on the dash, “Don’t you agree, guys?” He said to all the viewers. 

“Looks like they do.” I said, seeing the chats coming in. 

Tyler did the outro for the live stream and then turned off the camera as I shut my laptop. “I wish you would talk meteorology more during the live streams, you know?” Tyler said. 

“I know… it’s just I know what most people are watching for and it’s not for me to ramble on about the scientific aspect of things. It’s to watch the Tornado Wrangler do his thing.” I said. 

“Sweetheart, you forget,” He reached up and took his hat off before reaching over and putting it on my head, “You’re a Tornado Wrangler too.” 

I smiled at him. 

“You know the rules.” He said, nodding to the hat that was now on my head. 

“I know, trust me, I’m dying to get to our motel for the night.” I said, sending him a flirtatious wink. 

“Who said we had to wait?” He said with a smirk, reaching for the radio to contact the convoy. 

“Hey, y’all, head on to the next town. Yn and I are going to take a small detour to watch the rain pass.” He said into it and waited for everyone to respond.

We weren’t actually all together, having gotten separated when Tyler and I broke off to get to a funnel cloud that was forming but never produced a tornado. Everyone agreed to see us later, and Tyler’s smile grew even more. We were on some old back roads and hadn’t seen another car for over an hour it seemed. 

“See, no need to wait.” He said. 

“You’re right,” I said, reaching over and grabbing his belt buckle. Just below it, I could already see his bulge growing. “In fact, I think I’ll start now.” 

I undid the buckle and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I leaned across the center console. Then, I got his jeans and boxers pulled down just enough to free his hardening cock. 

“Hold onto this for me.” I said, taking his hat off of my head and putting it back on his, “Oh, and keep your eyes on the road.” I teased. 

I wasn’t sure what had come over me. Usually, I would never try something like this, but the thrill from the chase earlier was still pumping through my veins. I took him in my hand, pumping up and down a few times, loving the way he shifted in his seat as he anticipated what was coming next. I leaned down a little bit more, the position was in now way comfortable, but my focus right now was on making him feel good. Once I was close enough, I slowly put his tip into my mouth, teasing him with my tongue. Then I suck further down, taking as much of him into my mouth as I good. 

“Fuck.” Tyler sighed above me, “Feels so good, sweetheart.” 

I began bopping my head up and down, working him towards his release. I could hear his grunts and sighs above me, and it was like music to my ears. My cheeks hollowed and took him even deeper. I felt him stiffen under me as he hit the steering wheel with his hand. 

“Hold on, sweetheart.” He said, wrapping one arm over me to hold me steady. 

Then suddenly, I felt the truck slowly down some as it turned off the road. We hit a small ditch causing him to go even further into my mouth, nearly making me gag, but I continued to suck him off. The truck came to a stop, and he put it in park. 

“Shit, baby, I’m not lasting much longer. Get up.” He said, reaching down to grab my shoulders, gently pulling me off his cock. 

I pulled off of him with a small wet pop sound and looked at him, confused. 

“Get those jeans off now.” He said, clearly trying to hold himself together. 

“Damn, you really know how to talk the pants off a girl.” I said, unbuttoning them and shimmying out of them as I slipped my boots off as well, leaving me in only my shirt. 

“I do have my ways.” He said with a wink and nodding me over. 

“Tyler, you can’t be serious.”

Granted, we were in the middle of nowhere, but having actual sex in his truck was way different from me, just sucking him down below the windows where no one could see me. 

“Oh, I am very serious.” He said, reaching down between his legs and dropping the seat back all the way before opening the center console and grabbing a condom out of it. 

“Oh, and, rules are rules, sweetheart. Get over here.” He said, undoing his seat belt and patting his lap before reaching up and putting his hat back onto my head. 

I shook my head with a smile.

Carefully, I climbed over the center console, making sure not to hit any equipment. Tyler helped guide me into his lap. Once, I was straddling him, he reached down and ran his fingers through my folds. 

“Shit, sweetheart, did suck my dick make you that wet already, or is that from seeing those storms earlier?” He teased, causing me to shove his shoulder. 

“Shut up and fuck me, Owens.” I said, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, reaching down between us to line himself up with my entrance. 

He used his other hand to carefully guide me to sink down onto him. Our moans mixed together in the small space of the cab of the truck. After taking a moment to get used to the stretch, I reached up to use the back of his seat by his shoulder to guide myself back up before sinking back down onto him. Tyler took that as his signal to grab my hips and set a steady pace. 

“Fuck, Tyler.” I moaned as he gripped my hips and sped up the pace. 

“Go ahead sweetheart, come for me.” He said, pulling me down further onto his cock, hitting that soft, spongy spot deep inside me that had me seeing stars. 

My head dropped back as I came, moaning his name. As my walls squeezed around him, he followed my lead, cumming as well. 

He continued to guide my hips up and down, though now it was at a much slower pace, allowing us both to ride our highs. 

“Uh, guys…” Boone’s voice came through the CB radio. 

Tyler sighed, still buried in me, but carefully reached around me to grab the radio. 

He took a deep breath before pressing the button and speaking, “What?” 

“Y’all do know you’re still live, right?” 

The words snapped me out of the peaceful trance I was in as I looked at Tyler with wide eyes. 

“Shit!” He yelled, reaching up quickly to grab the hat off my head and using it to cover my bare ass that was facing the camera. 

Since he was keeping me covered, he couldn’t quite reach the camera to properly turn off the stream since he was still inside of me. So, I carefully lifted myself up off of him and sat back down on his lap before reaching behind me to turn the camera off. 

“Is it actually off now?” I asked Tyler. 

“Yeah…” 

“Damn, guys, that’s some of our highest viewings ever! Do you do this after every chase?” Boone asked, and even though his voice was slightly static-y, I could hear the teasing tone. 

I buried my face into Tyler’s chest in embarrassment as he laughed. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know… we’ll be in town later. Do us a favor, don’t bother us till then.” Tyler said before hanging the radio back up. Then he gave me that look and I knew I was in for a long night. 

Kinktober taglist

@comicbookslut

@mariaxman

@howlingco

[silentglassbreak]

hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme

friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.

going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay

feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺

Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst

Can You Feel My Heart

Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?

If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.

If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.

If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.

At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?

This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.

Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.

He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.

He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.

We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.

"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."

"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."

He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.

That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.

As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.

He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.

Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.

So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.

He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.

There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.

The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.

We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.

That's when the words left his mouth.

"We need to talk."

That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.

It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.

"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"

And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.

Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.

How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?

I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...

I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.

“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”

"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.

His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."

Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.

"You don't need to get up for another hour."

"Not if I want to shower."

He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."

"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Shut up. And get off me!"

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.

"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.

I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.

Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.

"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."

I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."

He scoffed. "Not a chance."

Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.

"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."

I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.

"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.

"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."

He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"

I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"

He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"

His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.

"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."

He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."

I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."

"So, why would you want to be so far away?"

"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."

He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."

I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."

There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.

"Oh no? And if I do?"

"You can't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"

He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."

Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"

He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."

"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"

His eyes popped open, then. "What?"

"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.

"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.

"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.

"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."

Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."

His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."

Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"

"What act?"

I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.

"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"

I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"

His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."

I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."

"I thought that's what we wanted."

Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."

He was silent, then.

"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."

I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?"

I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."

He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.

"I do love you!"

I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"

Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.

And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.

He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.

But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.

"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.

"You need to leave, Noah."

I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.

"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.

"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."

His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.

"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."

I let myself laugh at that.

"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."

7 Years Later

Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.

Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.

Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.

I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.

Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.

"You look so fine!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"

She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.

"So, Tyler isn't coming."

She frowned at me. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."

Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.

I liked him.

Right?

It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.

"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.

"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"

"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."

I nodded. "I've never heard them."

"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.

My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.

That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...

Bad Omens...they were the headliner.

Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.

I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...

“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”

My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?

I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.

Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?

Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.

“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”

I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?

“Long time ago.”

I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.

In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.

Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.

Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.

We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.

The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.

During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.

"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.

When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...

The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.

He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.

"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.

His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.

"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"

My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.

Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.

"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"

Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."

I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"

He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."

My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."

I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"

I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."

"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"

Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.

"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"

I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.

"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"

I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."

"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.

I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."

He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"

He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"

I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.

Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...

"Nick?"

His face turned back to me.

"How is he?"

I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.

"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."

"How so?"

Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?

"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."

I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."

He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."

I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?

"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"

Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.

I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."

This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"

I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"

She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"

Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?

"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."

I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.

"Damn it, alright, come here."

She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.

"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."

Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."

"Do you know anyone else in the band?"

I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.

"I may know the entire band."

Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.

"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"

I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."

She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."

Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.

We turned, ready to make our way back inside.

"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."

I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.

"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."

"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.

"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"

I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."

"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"

I was going to actually vomit at that.

"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."

She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."

I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.

I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.

I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.

"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."

My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."

My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."

She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"

I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."

She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.

Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?

I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?

Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.

He didn't take but a minute to respond.

Tyler: Having fun?

Ha, what a joke.

Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.

Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.

That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.

The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.

A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.

A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.

Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.

Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.

And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.

A voice I'd never forget.

"Can you hear me through the white noise?"

He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.

He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.

The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.

As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.

The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.

They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.

The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.

"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."

Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

Noah had changed...

The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.

The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?

"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...

The crowd erupted.

"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"

The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.

"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."

The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.

"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"

The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.

"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."

"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."

My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.

"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"

I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.

I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"

Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.

"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.

When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.

"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."

She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."

After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.

"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"

I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.

I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.

Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.

After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"

I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.

"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.

"Hang on! Wait!"

A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.

He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.

The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"

My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?

He thought he did, but now...

"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.

He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."

I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.

In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.

"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.

"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.

"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."

I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."

-

A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.

I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.

I couldn't do that again.

I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.

Who would be calling me at 2AM?

I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Hello?"

"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"

I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.

"Noah?" It barely came out.

"It's been a long time."

I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."

"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"

I sighed. "Nick told you?"

"He might've."

I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."

"Why?"

I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."

He hummed. "That's true."

I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.

"What did you think?"

"Of the show?"

"Mhm."

I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."

A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"

I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."

"In a bad way?"

"No. Not at all."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.

The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?

"Why did you call, Noah?"

I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."

"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."

My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."

"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."

My heart pounded. "What?"

"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."

"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"

I perused the idea. "When?"

"Now?"

I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."

"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."

This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?

"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."

"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"

I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.

My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?

It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.

I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!

I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.

I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.

Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...

Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.

I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.

"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.

"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.

I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."

He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.

"I had to."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."

I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.

"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."

"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."

I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.

To my chagrin, he was still there.

Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"

Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."

My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"

He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."

"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.

This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.

"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.

"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"

I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."

He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."

He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"

Oop. I wasn't expecting that.

"The second one. Villain, or something?"

He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"

I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"

"Mm, and which one was that?"

I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.

"Uh, I don't know the name."

He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"

"Am I wrong?"

He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.

I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."

He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."

"You still haven't said why."

"Why did you want to see me?"

My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"

"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.

He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"

I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.

"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."

I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"

"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."

There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.

In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"

He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.

"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"

He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'

"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"

He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.

"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"

My heart stopped, completely motionless.

"What?"

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."

I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.

"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"

My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.

"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."

This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.

"Noah, I had no idea-"

"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."

I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.

"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."

He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."

"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."

My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.

Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.

"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.

I couldn't take it.

I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.

His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.

My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.

Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.

His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.

"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"

I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."

His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"

I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.

I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.

"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."

His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"

Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.

"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"

I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."

My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."

Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.

"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."

He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.

I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.

"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.

"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.

My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.

My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.

"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"

My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.

"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."

My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.

"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."

Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.

"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."

He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.

I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.

We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.

"Hi." Was all I could manage.

He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."

-

After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.

He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.

However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.

"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."

"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."

And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.

I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?

But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.

Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.

When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?

Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.

Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)

I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.

Odd?

I resent it, getting the same response.

Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?

Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.

His number was the same, right?

I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.

So...what the hell?

My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.

"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

[itadores]

surprise!

note: everything i write is a little bit silly! i hope u enjoy u and sakura opening blind boxes hehe

pairing: sakura haruka x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, established relationship, haru and baby used to refer to sakura

Your hands hover over your phone as the device precariously balances against your water bottle resting on the table. Once you’re confident that your phone won’t come tumbling down anytime soon and fall screen first against the wooden surface of the table, you turn towards Sakura and pat the open seat right beside you.

“Come sit, Haru!”

Sakura eases himself down onto the bench, his leg briefly brushing against yours before hastily retreating. You don’t allow him to go far, bumping your knee against his, a silent reassurance that he doesn’t have to go anywhere. Sakura doesn’t look at you as he scoots a little closer to you, thigh touching your own, nearly feather-light. You lean more into the weight, which is more than a welcomed presence.

“Why do you have your phone out?” Sakura questions after clearing his throat, unsure of its necessity.

You multi-task, replying to Sakura as you pull up the camera app on your device. “I want to videotape our unboxing!”

Sakura’s brows knit in confusion. “Why? Are you going to post it or something?”

You shrug. “No, I just want to film it.” You turn to face Sakura as light concern washes over you. “Are you okay with that? It’s not going to go anywhere besides my camera roll, so you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing it.”

“Yeah that’s fine,” he replies, agreeing rather easily. Sakura ends up giving in and going along with most of your desires, but he usually needs far more persuasion. “Just don’t go showing it to Suo or Nirei or any of the guys,” Sakura grumbles. “Don’t need them spamming my phone with messages for no reason.”

“Deal!”

If that’s all it takes for Sakura to agree to be filmed, then you’re more than happy to oblige him. It’s not too big of an ask, especially considering that you know he can still find it a little overwhelming when he receives a sudden influx of text messages despite having been in a group chat with his old friends since their first year at Bofurin.

“Okay, I’m going to start filming then. Are you ready?”

You wait for Sakura to nod before you hit record.

“Hi guys!” you say to your imaginary audience, waving at the screen. “Haru and I just went shopping and we bought some blind boxes that we’re going to unbox for you all today!”

You turn your attention away from your phone onto Sakura. Although there’s nobody else around listening to you, you lower your voice into a hushed whisper. “Baby, can you get our blind boxes out of the bag?”

Sakura grabs the plastic bag lying on the other side of him and sets it aside onto the table where it won’t block the camera.

“Thank you, Haru.” you give him a quick peck on the cheek, the skin warming beneath your lips.

“Yeah,” Sakura mutters under his breath as you reach across and grab the two blind boxes you purchased together out of the bag. Well, the two blind boxes Sakura purchased because he refused to let you pay for yours or the one you insisted upon him getting for himself. He had put cash down onto the counter of the cashier before you even had a chance to get your card out. When you tried to protest, he just mumbled that he was buying it, the tips of his ears burning red. You didn’t put up too much of a fight after that, resolving yourself to simply enjoy the sweetness of Sakura.

You place one of the blind boxes in Sakura’s hand before holding your own up towards the camera.

“These are the blind boxes we got.” you show the camera all the different angles of the packaging. You nudge Sakura lightly with your shoulder, prompting him to hold up his blind box in one hand. He’s a bit stiff and his movements are a little awkward. Sakura’s obviously unused to being in front of the camera and the center of its attention, but he’s endearing all the same.

“Which one do you want?” you ask as you inspect the back of the packaging, eyes roving over the different possibilities that you could be met with once you tore into the blind box. Sakura's brows furrow as he does the same.

"I'm fine with any of them," he says, shrugging. You roll your eyes, knocking your shoulder against Sakura's.

"Haru, you have to pick at least one you would really like to have!" you insist, voice bordering on a whine. You huddle closer to him, bringing your blind box between you two. "I think they're all super cute, but I really like this one," you say as you point to the option you like the most: a gray and white cat figurine with a shrimp tempura wrapped around its waist. "What about you, baby?"

Sakura's face screws up in concentration as he looks over the options again. You resist the urge to smoothen out the crease between his brows. "I guess I like this one the most," Sakura says, a little unsure, pointing at an orange and white cat figurine with a boiled shrimp wrapped around its head.

You nod in agreement. "That one's also super cute!"

Upon hearing your words, some of the tension leaves Sakura as he relaxes against you. You smile to yourself before looking back up at the camera. "Okay, we're going to unbox now!"

You attempt to open the box nicely, but after struggling for a bit, you, not so neatly, tear the cardboard apart. Your eyes fly to Sakura's face before you can catch a glimpse of the contents of the now ruined box. "Don't look inside yet, Haru!" you suddenly cry out. Sakura startles, hands pausing from opening the box. "Let's look at the same time."

"Okay," Sakura slowly says, head tilted in mild confusion. However, he doesn't question you.

"Okay, on the count of three! Ready?" You wait until Sakura nods to begin. "1...2...3..."

Once the number three leaves both of your lips, you immediately begin to truly tear into the packaging, pulling the figurine out of the wreckage of destroyed cardboard.

"Baby, I got the one you wanted!" you happily exclaim, showing off to Sakura the silly orange and white cat figurine with a boiled shrimp wrapped around its head that he liked the most.

"Isn't this the one you wanted?" Sakura asks, holding up the figurine he just pulled. Your eyes widen when your gaze falls onto the gray and white cat figurine with a shrimp tempura around its waist. The one that you wanted so badly.

"Oh my god, it's even cuter than I thought," you squeal. There’s no resistance on Sakura’s end as he lets you take the figurine from his loose grip. You bring the figurine close to your face, your eyes greedily soaking it all in. “It’s so cute,” you happily comment as you gently place it back into Sakura’s open palm.

“Do you want to trade?”

“Hm?”

Sakura rubs the back of his neck, his fingers twisting and tangling through black and white strands.

“Do you want to switch?" he asks again. "Since I got the one you really wanted,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears glowing a soft pink.

Your eyes light up.

“Oh, that’s perfect, Haru!" you gush. "Here," you say as you slip the figurine you unboxed into Sakura's free hand. He follows suit, handing the figurine you wanted off to you.

"Ah, it really is super cute," you say once more, admiring the cat figurine now in your possession. You lean further into Sakura, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. "Thank you again for buying them, baby," you murmur, lifting your head slightly to press a light kiss to Sakura's neck. You feel his pulse jump. "And for switching with me. I hope you like the figurine you got."

"It's no big deal," he tries to brush off, but the pink hue coloring his skin says otherwise.

"Still," you insist. "Thank you, baby."

"Yeah, you're welcome."

Most of the remaining tension in Sakura's body escapes into nothingness as he allows himself to fully sink into the weight of you. You happily sigh, utterly content with your current position. So long as Sakura indulges your want for PDA, you’ll continue to take advantage of it. Just as you're starting to get really comfortable, you abruptly sit up straight, startling Sakura into doing the same.

"I almost forgot to stop the video!"

[dre6ming]

On set of Dune II

This part of “The delicate beginning rush” universe- whole series HERE

If you want to be tagged

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warning: smut 18+, blow job, cursing, MINORS PLEASE BE AWARE

Word count: 2k

Plot: you want to surprise Austin on the set of dune 2 and he gets shy about his fight scenes, but that is all forgotten when you work your magic on him.

A/n: this was a request by someone and it was so exciting to write, if you have more, send them to me and I’ll get to them as soon as I can.

With my busy schedule I barely got my assistant to fit this surprise flight to Budapest, so I could visit Austin on set of Dune 2. We haven't seen each other in person in 5 weeks, filming taking all of our time, on opposite sides of the world. It's not easy and it definitely is not pleasant, but we aren't the first nor the last to go through long distance. I have a few days off, time which I should have spend in the studio with Taylor, who's working on her new album, but I could not stay any longer without seeing Aus.

"Y/n so nice to meet you in person, I'm Denis. I have to say, I look forward to some day working with you, you're amazing!" The director says, putting his hand forward for me to shake. I smile kindly at him and take his hand. "Oh that's so beautiful of you to say, I look forward to that day as well, your work is so detailed and ambitious." I giggle, blushing a bit at his compliments. "Now I know this is a surprise for Austin, I did not say anything" he zips his lips closed chuckling "but you do have to sign some papers, just formalities you know." I nod and sign away, promising not to tell anything that I see today to anyone. "He's working, full make up, so brace yourself, it's really, it's a bit scary, come on."

Denis puts his hand on my shoulder and leads the way, as we walk I can start hearing grunting and thudding and all sorts of scenes. I am a bit worried about seeing Austin in full make up and acting like this psychotic character, considering that after the first time seeing him over video in full makeup I had a horrible nightmare. Granted he did call me at 3 am in the morning and I did answer kinda unconsciously, but still. There's big lights centered on two figures in the middle of a blue room, the rest is pretty dimly lit, so my eyes take a moment to adjust. I could recognize Austin's grunts anywhere, having had them in my ear for so long, so my knees feel a bit weak, my skin already hungry to feel him.

As I get used to the light, I see Austin move so athletically, jumping back avoiding hits, then throwing some good punches himself. He's been working very hard in the gym gaining a few pounds of muscle, looking toned like never before. God he looks so weird with this make up, I miss his blonde curly hair, thank god for the other movie he's filming, and this is all a fake bald cap. The other guy he's fighting with, uses a small knife, which I'm pretty sure it's fake but still scary. He swings it, in front of Austin's face and next thing I know he falls to the ground, catching himself mid fall, turning his head to the camera, showing his face full of blood. I stifle a scream, covering my mouth, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I look at everyone, no one seems to notice. Austin flashes a smile, black teeth showing, with trembling hands I push my hair behind my ears and try and act as if I had known this was all an act.

"Cut! Austin man, amazing! Let's get makeup in here and clean it up, I want to shoot it one more time. Let's take five!" Denis says, and suddenly Austin's whole demeanor changes, it's so strange, he looks so scary, but his stance is so Austin. I clear my voice and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, walking forward. Austin, being the sweet guy he is, is shaking hands with his partner. "Hi there stranger, need a tissue? I think you got a bloody nose." As soon as he hears my voice, he turns around, scooping my up in a tight hug, getting fake blood all over me. "Y/n!" Austin says, holding me tight to his chest, his lips kissing my neck, leaving wet splashes of fake blood. "Did you miss me baby?" I ask, patting his back, as my feet touch the ground. He doesn't answer, instead, his hands hold my face and he pulls me in for a kiss. It wet and bitter, even a bit sticky, but it tastes like him still. Austin breathes into the kiss, his tongue, entering my mouth exploring. I lace my hands around his neck and moan into him, forgetting for a minute where we are.

Austin pulls back resting his forehead on mine, breathing softly. "What are you doing here?" He asks a smile evident in his tone. I giggle when he rubs his nose against mine, pulling back to look at me. "Oh fuck, I got fake blood all over you, honey I'm so sorry!" He tries to wipe it with the back of his hand, but I take it away, holding his hand in mine. "It's fine, I'm just glad it's fake, I thought it was real." Austin can see that I'm as honest as they come and his eyes look sympathetic "I'm so sorry darling, I didn't mean to worry you!" He says, kissing my forehead head, then grunting annoyed. "I really should stop kissing you now." He says, rubbing his thumb over my forehead, on what I'm assuming is another fake blood stain. "You look so buff and scary, so so hot!" I say biting my lip.

"Really?" Even though all this white makeup I can see the slight blush he has on, turning all shy and avoiding eye contact. "So so hot!" I stand on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, feeling him shiver as my breath fans over his skin. "I can't wait for you to make those pretty noises for me!" I laugh, but my breath gets stuck in my throat as his arms circle around me and he pulls me in, flush to his front. "Baby these leather pants are very very tight and leave no room." He says rubbing his pelvis in mine so I can feel his hard on. My blood starts boiling and I can almost see myself with him on top of me.

"Ask for ten minutes, bathroom break or something." I plead under my breath. Austin looks hesitant, but he still does it anyway. Denis gives his ok and we bolt to his trailer, knowing we don't have much time. I laugh all the way there and he tries to make small talk, telling me all about how filming as been going so far, event this he's already told all this stuff. I listen, but in the back of my head I'm far gone.

We close the door to his trailer and his lips are on mine instantly. His hands hold mine down, so that I won't be able to try and thread my fingers through his nonexistent hair. "Get on the bed!" I say breathless and step back, letting him move past me and onto the bed. "Y/n, my darling, I've missed you so so much." Austin says, sitting on his bed, leaning back a bit, legs spread wide, sporting a noticeable bulge. "I've missed you too." I admit and move in front of him, placing my hand in his hard on, squeezing him through his pants. "Fuck!" He says, throwing his head back. I work his pants open and slide them down enough to free his hard dick, looking red and needy. I lick my lips and get down on my knees. This would be my first time ever doing anything like this, but I've been thinking about it a lot and I've been wanting to try.

"Y/n y/n, no no baby you don't have to, honey come on!" Austin tries to lift me off the ground but I keep my position. "I want to, but I've never done it before, so if I do something wrong, just tell me. Please!" I bat my lashes at him and his hips thrust in the air. "Just, ok, but take it easy ok?" I nod and hold him in my hand. I spit on him and move my hand up and down, using my thumb to touch his head gathering more sleek from there. I can already feel my panties getting wet, so I squeeze my thighs together. I lean forward and take him in my mouth. So far he's been quiet, but now that my warm mouth is on him, he lets out a long breathy moan, fisting the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you are an angel! I love you so much!" He tastes salty, but good in a way. I swirl my tongue around and suck, bopping my head up and down. One of his big hands leaves the sheets and finds purchase in my hair. I moan around him and feel him shiver as a few more cures slip past his lips.

God I've missed him. "Fuck baby, you look so beautiful with your mouth around my cock, do you like it? Like how I fit in your mouth?" I love when Austin talks dirty to me, so I moan, picking up the pace, causing him to fall back on the bed, crying out In pleasure. I finally understand why he loves to do this for me, I think I could watch him like this for ages and not get bored. I feel him twitch in my mouth, so I move my free hand from his thigh, to his balls, squeezing softly. "Shit, fucking hell!" He grunts, pushing his hips a bit in my mouth. "Y/n, baby, I'm not going to last long, if you don't want it in your mouth, I'll tell you when ok?" I nod, but I know want it in my mouth, I've tasted him before, after giving him hand jobs, so now I'm more than eager to get a taste of him.

I sneak my hand under his balls and push slightly on the spot there, which causes Austin to jump off the bed a bit, pushing himself further down my throat making me gag, tears prickle my eyes. I breathe through my nose and relax for him, working on him, pushing on that secret spot. "Fuck, Y/n, baby that feels so good, ahh I'm cu-" he doesn't get to finish what he has to say, as his body goes rigid and he spills himself into my mouth. I stay calm and swallow him whole, enjoying they way it feels. When he's done, I let him out of my mouth, give him a few more strokes, ending with a kiss to his head, smiling at the way he curses.

He lifts me up into his arms and I lay my head in his chest. "Wow, are you sure you've never done this before? Because this must have been the best I've ever had!" Austin says out of breath. I giggle and kiss under his chin. "I like to read, I learn what I read." I explain, sighing when he moves his head to kiss my lips. His hand travels down my body and gives my ass a good squeeze, making me yelp, so he can sneak his tongue into my mouth.

A knock on the door as us parting, him quickly putting his pants on and me, wiping my face with a tissue. "Back on set!" A voice shouts from the other side of the door. "In a minute!" Austin screams back, trying to make himself as presentable as possible. "Can I come watch you some more?" I ask, turning the water on to was the dried fake blood from my face. I look back at Austin and he looks so timid now, scratching the back of his head. "I mean of course baby..."

"Aus..? What's up?" I ask using a towel to dry my face, while I look at him, his eyes wondering the room, avoiding mine. "Well I guess I'm just a tad shy, you know, I have to act pretty barbaric out there and I feel so silly, I'm just I don't know.." he says dropping his head. I get close to him and take his hands in mine, rubbing slow circles on his knuckles. "You don't look silly, you look fierce, and bold and scary, you have nothing to be shy about." I say kissing the tip of his nose. "Now come on big boy, you've got work to do, and the faster you finish here, the sooner you get to make love to me!" I wink at him and he chockes on his laughter, blushing a deep red.

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[melis-writes]

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 2 – By Chance and By Fate

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 1 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Please, I insist.” / “Our families are close, you know. We respect one another. I hope ya know you’re always welcome here.”

By chance and by fate, you find yourself intertwined by the soon-to-be successors and sons of powerful men, mafioso again and again. From your experience with the Barzini family, you knew what to expect meeting the Corleones, let alone Santino Corleone, the "enforcer", or so you thought. How can you feel at home in someone else's house you've visited for the first time? How can time be meaningless for Sonny who only wants to get lost in his words? You promised yourself you wouldn't tangle with mafiosi, you know what the means for you, but one wants nothing more than to be close to you. The ease and comfort inside of you from this man draws out your fate and future with him...

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of family abuse / Mentions of death

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: An update we very much needed to continue this fic because I can promise from the bottom of my heart that even after a year of no updates, Mafia Wife is not forgotten nor abandoned!! 😭❤️ 2024 had not been kind to me with my writing, but I'm back at it again having beaten writer's block. 🤭 Gabriella and Sonny's story CONTINUES! Despite it only having one chapter up from 2023, I'm in awe every single day at the love and support this fic gets! It means so much to me, so thank you all so very much!! 🥺❤️🥺❤️ This is a bit of a slow burn fic, at least in these initial chapters, so I'm trying to build up friendliness and potential romance with Sonny and Gabriella before we really jump in to their lives together and how they came to be. Sit down and get ready for the ride, it only picks up after this chapter! 👀

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

March 1937, Long Island, New York, Giordano Estate Greenhouse.

Humming a soft tune to yourself as you make your way through your family greenhouse, you almost blend in with the various, planted flowers growing around you in your lilac color, flowing shirtwaist dress, and hair put up in a messy bun.

Just outside in the back of your family’s estate, you spend the remainder of your afternoon alone in the family greenhouse with hundreds of plants, herbs, and flowers that are carefully curated, gardened, and cared for by you and your family. It's always been an ideal place for solitude among colorful, fragrant nature and a muse for your painting sessions.

You approach the greater floral section of the greenhouse where blossoming flowers are planted in pots and little plots of soil in gardening boxes from vibrant tulips to lilies, lilacs, orchids, peonies, tulips, and roses grow.

You pause for a moment, stopping your tracks as you glance back over your shoulder to your easel set up a few feet behind you, centered in the middle of the greenhouse to encapsulate a stunning view of all the plants around you and capture as much sunshine peeking through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse.

‘Roses. Roses will do.’ You note to yourself, gazing at the variety of white, red, and pink planted roses; some half-bloomed, some yet to grow and others wilted from a lack of proper sunlight in the winter.

“Spring can’t kick in fast enough,” you sigh to yourself, frowning at the potted red roses you planted yourself, almost completely wilted now.

You run your hands through the petals of a growing set of planted red roses before you take the pot of wilted ones, moving it over to the small round table by your easel.

Just before you’re about to set down the pot of roses, your eyes flicker over to the glass door of the greenhouse, noticing three tall, male figures walking outside in the estate’s gardens.

One of the figures you easily recognize; is your father, wearing a navy three-piece suit walking with whom you assume are two other guests, no doubt prestigious and wealthy judging by their black, three-piece, Italian silk suits.

From slight fog and droplets of rain clouding the glass walls and door of the greenhouse, the guests your father walks with appear mostly distorted to you as you’re unable to make out any faces.

Paying no attention to them, you set the roses down before taking a seat on your stool in front of your easel.

You clear your throat, inching your seat closer, and begin to prepare your paints on a little tray in front of you before you focus on tracing an outline of the roses onto your canvas to begin painting.

Don Emilio Barzini and his son, Emilio Barzini Jr. Are your father’s esteemed guests for today, visiting the Giordano family estate to discuss investments and private banking in detail.

The Barzini family was one of the first crime families in New York to invest in the Giordano family banks when your father first entered the business, and his relationship with the Barzinis blossomed from long-time allies and respected customer into a grandfathered friendship with due respect.

Your father, Francesco Giordano, recognizes well enough the power and influence a man such as Don Barzini has. Francesco knows Barzini is a man to be respected, a man who is known to be cunning and crude on whims, and a man who if relations sour through wrong actions, can also become a dangerous enemy.

It’s always been in your family’s best interests to keep on good terms with all of your clients, but particularly the most wealthy and powerful mafiosi without being involved in any mafia business yourselves for the sake of your family.

Today marks the first time Don Barzini is touring the back of your family estate, taking in the splendor of the carefully curated gardens, gazebo, and private pool that finished its recent construction this year, and an even rarer occasion marked by Emilio Jr. Accompanying his father as well.

Emilio Jr. Is now fully engrossed in the Barzini family business himself, directly learning from his father and beginning to forge the same business relationships for succession shortly.

You've met both Don Barzini and his son years prior, but you’ve never spent enough time with either of them neither personally nor formally to get to know them. Considering their mafiosi, you believe that as a nurse and not a mafiosa, there’s nothing you can offer to either of these men unless they come to you visibly sick or injured.

You’re nothing if not kind and welcoming to all guests—including your family’s business partners—but you’ve never paid mafiosi special attention. You’ve never had to, thus far.

Your father remains close to the door of the greenhouse, speaking to Don Barzini. “There is nothing more important,” he says, patting Barzini’s hands in his, “than our continued partnership and friendship.”

“Indeed,” Barzini smiles back, amused. “I trust none other with the investments and wealth of my family. You know this.”

Emilio’s eyes linger over your back through the greenhouse walls, only half paying attention to his and your father’s conversation in front of him.

You haven’t had a chance to approach the Barzinis to welcome them today as you were never told they were coming, but you have no intention of stopping your painting mid-way from rushing out and greeting mafiosi.

Although you remain a distorted figure of sorts behind the greenhouse glass walls to Emilio Jr. it mildly disgruntles him to be unable to make out your full figure, he knows it's you.

It’s much to Emilio Jr.’s surprise that he catches your father then offering, “Have I not given you a grand tour of our greenhouse yet, Don Barzini? Oh, please, allow me. It’s finally completed its construction alongside our gardens this year, just as my family envisioned it to be.”

“Gladly,” Don Barzini chuckles, “you’ve already impressed me above all others I’ve seen.”

The three men enter the greenhouse as you begin to slowly use a crimson shade of red paint to encapsulate the less wilted, vibrant colors of a rose petal on your canvas.

You hear the door to the greenhouse open and close, sighing quietly to yourself as you force yourself to focus on the canvas until you simply are unable to.

You know and respect that your father doesn’t have much of a choice when it comes to entertaining his mafiosi guests and touring around the estate, but it does make you uncomfortable when his guests choose to interrupt your personal and hobby time—particularly the chatty Don Barzini’s son, Emilio Jr...

You hear a brief conversation about the final renovations and construction of the greenhouse from your father and Don Barzini, as well as mentions about the sections the greenhouse has been separated into to organize flowers from herbs and fruits before their footsteps grow louder and you’re in plain sight of all three men.

“My daughter, Gabriella,” your father beams proudly at the sight of you. “The greenhouse is often her muse when it comes to her paintings.”

“The beautiful Gabriella Giordano,” Don Barzini remarks, glancing at you, then your painting.

Emilio Jr. quietly stands in awe, gazing at your beauty as you turn around and look at Don Barzini with respect.

“Don Barzini,” you’re quick to set your paints down and carefully rise from your seat to greet him. “Welcome. Forgive me, I didn’t know you’d be visiting us today.”

Don Barzini chuckles, taking no offense. “Ah Gabriella, how are you, sweetheart?” He gives you a light kiss on both cheeks. “No disrespect done, it’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Don Barzini.” you smile politely. “Likewise. I’ve been well.” 

Emilio Jr.’s eyes wander over your dress and body inconspicuously, admiring your curves and how the fabric of your clothes hugs your figure.

It’s no surprise to him nor his father how powerfully attracted Emilio Jr. Is to you as you remain the epitome of his type in women; a beautiful, young woman from a prestigious family that built itself from nothing getting closer to the top, mingling with families like his—not to mention a woman who built her own pathway with a career at that.

“Gabriella,” Emilio Jr. Speaks out, your name sounding like a rich wine over his tongue,

“Hello,” you turn to face Don Barzini’s son; no shred of affection or attraction shared towards him whatsoever.

It’s not that you find Emilio Jr. Unattractive, as he’s very much a conventionally attractive, Sicilian young man with medium-length, clipped, dark hair just past his earlobe, parted to the left, slicked and gelled back neatly wearing a sultry cologne, bright charming smile with dark, dreamy eyes, but nothing in your heart speaks to him.

When it comes to Emilio Jr., it’s always been a “no” from you, and there’s nothing more to go off on that.

“Don Barzini and young Emilio are touring the grounds with us today, sweetheart,” your father says with a proud smile. “I just hope we haven’t interrupted your painting.”

“Nonsense,” you tell your father, very much speaking to him directly. “Please,” you smile back at Don Barzini and Emilio Jr., “make yourselves comfortable.”

With that, you turn back around and return to your easel, hearing Don Barzini and your father begin to make their way further into the greenhouse, spiking up another conversation.

You don’t notice that Emilio Jr. Decides to linger behind quietly, not following your father and his but rather remaining back to watch you from a distance as you pick up your paints and try to focus on where you left off.

Swirling your brush into the scarlet red paint again, you slowly begin to paint away at the easel.

Emilio Jr. watches your mastery in awe, wishing to be able to watch you paint all day just to watch your delicate, yet slow and precise movements—painting with such ease as if it’s second nature to you. Your talent mesmerizes Emilio Jr., as does the rest of you.

You’re aware the three men are rather close to you in proximity in the greenhouse, but you pay no attention to them or any other potential distractions as you remain engrossed in your art.

It’s when Emilio Jr. Begins to directly approach you that you become startled, hearing him say in a low, whispering voice, “Something tells me this is more than just a hobby to you.”

You gasp out quietly, dropping the small container of red paint you held free in your hand to the ground, spilling half like a bloody splatter over the floor. “Oh!”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Emilio Jr. blinks, taken back as he quickly attempts to kneel to scoop up the container of paint.

You’re faster, leaning over to grab the container first but manage to spill more red paint over your hands as you get it away from Emilio Jr’s. Grasp.

You let out a small sigh of relief, noticing quite a bit of paint still left in the container and that at the very least it didn’t splatter on you, your easel, or let alone Emilio Jr.’s thousand-dollar, silk suit.

You both gaze at each other, out of breath, hearts racing.

Emilio Jr. Chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” you glance down at the red mess staining all over your hands as you set the paint container down. “It cleans off easily.”

“And your hands?” Emilio Jr. Frowns, becoming genuinely concerned.

“That too,” you frown, looking at the palm of your hands as if you committed a murder; bloody red reaching your wrists.

“I commend you for using high-quality paint...” Emilio notices the brand name on some of the small paint tubes around you. “But my apology isn’t enough. I’ll have replacements sent to you later this afternoon.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of receiving any sort of gift from the Barzini family. “No, no, please, I couldn’t--”

“I insist,” Emilio Jr. Smiles back at you, taking your hands into his suddenly.

Stunned, you glance down at your hands to see the red paint smearing onto Emilio Jr’s willingly; your cheeks stinging red from surprise.

“Let me make it up to you,” Emilio Jr. Coaxes.

“If you insist,” you avoid eye contact with him.

“You’re a master of your craft, it’s the least I can do.” To his regret, Emilio Jr. Slowly lets go of your hands. “I want to buy this painting from you.”

“This?” Stunned, you glance back at your easel, utterly confused by what Emilio Jr. Is trying to get at.

Your painting of a set of wilted roses is nothing if not simple, but rather mediocre in your eyes. Your only idea was to practice painting flowers and nothing more; why would the son of a wealthy Don want this of all things from you?

“Of course,” Emilio Jr. Chuckles, “this is already making itself out to be a beautiful portrait. Does that surprise you?”

You give him a small smile. “I’m my biggest critic. It doesn’t make sense to me. It’s...” You frown at the rose portrait, barely close to completion. “It’s just a little practice on painting florals. Nothing I wanted to keep.”

“It makes sense to me. Practice or not, it’s your artwork and it’s beautiful.”

“You can have it,” you won’t object, a little flattered that Emilio Jr. Appreciates your artwork despite having only seen it once. “I won’t deny a lover of art his painting.”

“You understand me,” Emilio grins. “And that goes for any of your paintings, you know? I would love to see more of them sometime. Perhaps you’d give me a private showing?”

“I don’t know if--”

“Please, I insist.”

Current day, March 1939, Corleone Estate.

“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny says to you; the same words, similar persuasion, charming smile over his lips wanting to give you a tour of his family estate having just met you, but it’s different.

‘Why is it different?’ A moment of realization flickers through you.

Why is it different for you now, having another son of yet another powerful Don, again the eldest, again the future successor, the enforcer whom you just met, make you feel so comfortable and so safe already when you’ve just met him?

How do you already feel so at ease as opposed to how you felt in your own home’s greenhouse next to Emilio Jr. When you have known him for much longer?

You can’t explain it to yourself nor can you think of it in the moment; it’s not Emilio Jr. Whose on your mind for the time being.

There’s no uneasiness surrounding you and Sonny; something just feels right inside of you, and Sonnys easygoing, playful personality towards you only provides further relief.

“I won’t get lost?” You teasingly ask, beginning to follow Sonny through the foyer of the estate.

Sonny chuckles, glancing at you as he leads you through. “Well, what do you want to do?”

Both of you crack a smile at one another.

“I gotta make this as boring for you as possible, ya know. But I do wanna give you a warm welcome,” Sonny extends out both of his arms, gesturing to each side of his Tudor-style estate interior that is the home of the Corleone family. “Five bedrooms, seven bathrooms. Impressed?”

“Were you a real estate agent in your past life?” You giggle, causing Sonny to burst out in laughter with you.

“Maybe,” Sonny grins, “jack of all trades, you could say.”

“Great,” laughing, you continue, “I heard there’s a grand library, maybe?”

“You heard right, come on. I’ll show you the study.” Gesturing for you to follow close, Sonny begins to lead you up the mahogany, spiral staircase. “Something tells me that’s your favorite room in a house already.”

“I won’t deny that,” blushing a little, you follow Sonny down the hallway and to double French doors leading into a spacious, quiet, and dimly lit study where you can barely make out a square inch of the wall from the bookshelves holding hundreds of books.

Two study desks are placed at a distance from one another in the room with a plush, fur carpet in the middle, two leather armchairs and a beige, tweed couch on the other end of the room.

“I don’t spend as much time in here as I should,” Sonny admits sheepishly. “Almost a little too quiet in here, y’know?”

“Not to your liking?” You ask, peeking around the study curiously.

“I like having someone around.”

“That does sound nice,” the blush deepens on your cheeks.

“You a bookworm of any sort?” Sonny walks towards the bookshelves, albeit not very interested in the surroundings of the study or anything it has to offer him.

“I’m a painter,” you smile shyly.

Sonny blinks in surprise, turning back to face you. “You’re an artist, hey?”

“Something like that,” you meet his gaze.

“So...” Sonny chuckles, gesturing around the study aimlessly. “We gotta get you a private room where you have all the space and painting tools you need, right? No use for all these books.”

“Maybe not,” you’re intrigued even by such a forward suggestion from Sonny as you move to politely sit down on the couch across from him. “Funny enough, the greenhouse has always been my place of choice to point.”

“I know where to take you on a tour next then, don’t I?” Sonny smirks. “Interesting stuff. Never met an artist before. What do you paint?”

“A little bit of everything.” You’re flattered to pick up on Sonny’s genuine interest in your hobby, easily being able to tell by his tone of voice and body language that he isn’t just forcing small talk to get to another point. “I like still life portraits the best, but I also adore Renaissance artwork so I do similar style portraits. Anything. I love all kinds of painting and artwork, it’s calming.”

“Right,” Sonny nods slowly. “A lot of chaos around? It must be nice to unwind in a hobby like that.”

“There’s always something happening,” you frown, only able to think of the recent mob wars between the families of New York and their lasting, heated impacts and tensions just to mention a few. “If you know what I mean.”

“Believe me, I understand,” Sonny mumbles, slumping down in one of the leather armchairs closest to you.

“It can be a lot to handle, but it’s not exactly an escape for me.” You continue, “Making art is something I’ve always loved to do.”

“Glad to hear it,” Sonny tilts his head to the side, raking a hand through his brunette curls. “And you’re more well-informed than I thought.”

You pause for a moment, locking eyes with Sonny.

This is Don Vito Corleone’s eldest son, his successor, and very much an active mafioso. If anyone knows anything, it’s him.

‘Is he prodding me for information?’

“You or me?” You counter.

Sonny’s eyes widen a little, his curiosity towards you fully peaking. “You know who I am?”

“I know more than you think.”

“But I don’t know much about you,” a sly grin begins to form on the corners of Sonny’slips. “How’s that fair, Miss Giordano?”

“What do you want to  know about me?” You flush a shade of scarlet, clasping your legs tighter together.

“To be honest? Everything. We can start there,” Sonny purses his lips, licking over them.

“I’ll be here for a very long time then,” you tease back.

“I have time,” he states.

“Don Corleone’s son is never too preoccupied?” A little thrill rushes through you at the back and forth you find yourself engaged in with Sonny.

“I can make time,” he winks. “I want to see you again if you’re willing. It’s refreshing to talk to a girl like you, and we just met.”

“Right...” You blush deeply, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Likewise. We can do that.”

“I’ll talk to your father. He’s no stranger to me, but you and I haven’t had a proper chance to meet until now.” Sonny begins to slowly rise from his seat. “Our families are close, you know. We respect one another. I hope ya know you’re always welcome here.”

‘And why don’t I feel uneasy around this mafioso now?’

“I’m flattered,” you also begin to get up from the couch.

“You should be,” Sonny maintains a respectful distance from you—something Emilio Jr. sorely lacked. “How about I take you down to our greenhouse? See if it’s worthy of hosting a painter?”

“I like the sound of that,” nodding eagerly, you begin to follow Sonny out of the study and back down the hallway.

“I’ll give you a tour to the Corleone Mall too sometime if my Pops and yours don’t beat us to it. We just finished building up the place in Long Beach. I know your Pops have been there a few times while it was still under construction,” Sonny leads you back down the spiral staircase. “A little out of the way—like an hour—but worth the trip now. A lot of residential, good security, gated community, now for the family.” He suddenly switches up the topic, “You had the misfortune of meeting any of my brothers yet?”

“Misfortune?” You hold back a laugh as you’re both back down in the foyer.

“Let’s put it that way,” Sonny chuckles.

“I’ve met Tom recently,” you nod. “Tom Hagen.”

“Yeah, Tom and I go a long way back. The first friend I ever had. Played out there in the streets of Hell's Kitchen growing up. He’s German Irish. His family was uhhh...” Sonny shrugs his shoulders loosely, beginning to lead you out through the back door. “Not doing so well, let’s say. I’m sure Tom will tell you all about it sometime.”

“Oh,” you frown, stepping outside as Sonny holds open the door for you.

“I saw his folks sometimes when we played outside. His dad was a carpenter or something, I think, but man...” Sonny shakes his head, “he drank and he drank. I like my whiskey and anisette, but the violence in that man when he had liquor in his mouth was something else. He beat his own kid black and blue, just like that.”

Sonny stuffs both hands into the pockets of his dress trousers, leading you out to the greenhouse. “He was eleven at the time, I think. Yeah, eleven. And I saw his ma, she had a real nasty eye infection. She went blind from it, and it wasn’t long till we didn’t see her around anymore but she gave Tom the same infection too. I was worried for him. I knew he didn’t have the money or means to treat it.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, clasping your hands together.

“Everything started to go to shit after that,” Sonny continues the story, “his dad wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the violent type anymore to others like his own son but he started to take it out on himself. Drank himself to death after the funeral. Tom told me one day when we were playin’ that some funny-looking business people were wanting to take him and his sister away. I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

“Social services?” You raise a brow.

“Yeah,” Sonny nods, stopping by the greenhouse door with you. “So they got sent to some orphanage, and I didn’t see Tom for a few weeks. I thought that was it, y’know. Then some week later, I saw him back on the streets. He told me ran off from the orphanage.”

“But he left his sister back there?”

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Sonny shakes his head. “Some couple adopted her, but not him. Assholes,” he scowls, “they knew she had a little brother and chose to separate them anyway. Tom didn’t trust anyone after that—I mean, how could he, right? He didn’t even trust me,” Sonny takes a hand out of his pocket, pointing at his chest. “Just the streets. Took me over a year to persuade him to come stay with us. I talked to Pop and told him everything that happened down to the kid’s eye infection. Pop didn’t wanna disrespect Tom’s background and family you see, but he adopted him. Saw him as a real son. And Tom’s a real brother to me, so there’s that.”

“Wow,” a small smile begins to form over your lips. “You wanted to take him as your brother?”

“Of course. He was always a brother to me, we just didn’t live together at that time.”

“That’s so sweet,” you beam as Sonny opens the greenhouse door, letting you both in so distracted and engrossed in each other’s conversation that both of you already forgot this is supposed to be a greenhouse tour.

“What came of the eye infection?” The curious nurse in you asks as both of you stand before each other, talking.

“My father hired a private doctor to operate on it. Tom healed up well after that,” Sonny explains.

“I’m glad. Most eye infections are treatable, even the ones that led to blindness like his poor mother, as contagious as they are. I wonder if it was keratitis or trachoma.”

Sonny stares at you in awe, like a child seeing Christmas tree lights for the first time—bewildered and intrigued.

“What?”

“How would you know all that? You a doctor?” The grin on his mouth becomes contagious.

“I’m a nurse,” you giggle.

“You’re a nurse,” Sonny repeats. “Wow. Just what else are you, Miss Gabriella? So you don’t give me any more big surprises like this.”

“We just met, you have to go easy on yourself,” you laugh softly.

“Do I?” Sonny chuckles. “Y’know I’m used to seeing private doctors shuffle in and outta here, take care of Pops or one of us without saying much—just shoving medical stuff in your face but this is different. A good different.”

‘She’s incredible,’ Sonny thinks to himself, fascinated by you.

“You’re too sweet,” you say back as both of you remain quiet for a moment, smiling at one another.

“Ah,” Sonny blinks, awkwardly looking around the greenhouse. He knows he’s brought you here for a reason, but easily gets distracted by your eyes and smile. “Oh, sorry, the tour--”

“It’s beautiful here, thank you for showing me.”

“Not much of a grand tour, but it’s something. You garden too, or?”

“I like to give it a try here and there, but I’m not sure if I can call myself a green thumb,” you tell him.

“Well, I am not,” Sonny glances around the various plants around him. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been in here.”

“Really?’

“But if you plan on coming to visit more often, that can change,” Sonny sneaks in a flirty comment.

“I’ll take you up on that,” you nod happily.

Patrolling the vicinity of the Corleone estate at this hour for security are Clemenza and Tessio’s men, as well as the two men together, making their way around the back of the greenhouse.

Clemenza and Tessio’s movements are slower and linger nearby the greenhouse as they notice both of you inside, staying out of your sights.

Tessio chuckles, smoothening out his suit jacket. “There he goes again, Santino... One new lady at a time.”

Clemenza stares through the glass of the greenhouse walls more intently, trying to study your features. “This is not looking good.”

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Tessio’s attention perks up.

“Not just a new lady,” Clemenza murmurs, shaking his head. “You see who that is?”

Tessio turns his head to look through the glass, trying not to catch you or Sonny’s gaze as inconspicuously as possible.

“Oh,” Tessio blinks, “that’s...”

“Francesco Giordano’s daughter,” Clemenza sighs deeply. “Santino. What’s he getting himself into this time?”

“This is a scandal waiting to happen,” Tessio can hardly keep his laughter contained. “What do you think? They’re seeing each other?”

“I don’t know,” Clemenza grumbles, turning away. “But the Don told me to keep an eye on Sonny. Y’know, last week he could barely get his hands off of Ms. Mancini in front of everybody. Now he’s got a private banker’s daughter in the greenhouse?”

“Relax, old man.” Tessio pats Clemenza’s shoulder reassuringly. “We don’t even know what’s going on with those two just yet, and Don doesn’t trust his son?”

“Not like that,” Clemenza replies, pursing his lips. “But y’know how Sonny can be. He’s too hotheaded, too quick to act. Too promiscuous for his good if you ask me, but something like this won’t simply blow over if it gets out.”

“Ah,” Tessio nods. “The Don will want to hear about it.”

“I don’t know if he’ll be surprised anymore. I just wish Sonny would settle down already,” Clemenza crosses his arms. “Settle down for good, y’know? Get married, and have a family. It would be good for him.”

“Give him time,” Tessio tells Clemenza, “this could be a good thing. We can’t get too involved and even the Don knows he can’t rush his own son when it comes to the ladies he brings around. We just gotta keep a good eye on him here and there.”

“Gabriella Giordano is a very, very different story altogether,” Clemenza nods slowly. “Believe me when I say this, but... Telling the Don will be for Sonny’s good.”

[mrs-padalecki2341]

Hey um. This is my first time doing an ask but can u maybe please write an enemy to lovers

Sam and reader (reader is assumed to be vamp or wolf or something else but is innocent and 100% human)

Misunderstanding

(Sam x Reader)

I tried my best to fit the prompt, so I hope I did okay and that you like it! Enjoy!

Warnings/Promises: Gunshot wound, canon level violence, smut, screaming kink, unprotected sex/ creampie (wrap it before you tap it), slight praise, kind of like an enemies to lovers thing, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something.

~~~

You were on a case, hunting what seemed to be a werewolf. After three days and no luck, you decided to take a break and hit the local bar. Now, you were on your way back to the motel, when someone screamed help from an allyway.

You turned the corner to see the werewolf running off and a man lying dead on the ground.

You walked over and crouched beside him to check for a heart, and sure enough, it was missing.

You sighed and wiped the blood that got on you on your pants. You were about to go call the cops about the body when someone called out behind you.

"Hey!"

You turned and saw two guys at the other end of the ally right as one of them shot a silver bullet into your shoulder, just missing your chest and heart.

You stumbled and collapsed against the wall, grabbing your shoulder with one hand and reaching for your gun with the other.

"What the fuck?!? Who the fuck are you!?!?" You called out to the guys.

"Shit. She's not a wolf..." The taller one said as they both ran up to you.

"Wolf? As in "Werewolf"?" You asked, still leaning against the wall, a slight strain to your voice from the pain.

How did they know about werewolves?

"Yeah. We're looking for a werewolf..." The shorter one says.

"Wait, so you're hunters?" You asked, confused.

"Yeah, I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. So, are you a hunter too then?" The tall one replied.

"Y-yeah... Did you say Winchester? As in *the* Winchesters?" Your eyes went big.

"Uh, heh, yeah. That's us." Sam chuckled as you stumbled a bit. "Oh, yeah, sorry about shooting you... Here, let me see..." He moved your hand away from the wound and examined it. "Whew, yeah, you're gonna need stitches for that. We can take you back to our bunker and fix you up there if you want."

He reached his hand out to help you stand up from on the wall.

"Thank you." You murmured, accepting his hand. "I'm Y/n, by the way. Y/n Y/l/n."

They helped you back to their 67' Chevy Impala and drove you to the bunker.

Once you got there and they stitched and patched you up, you leaned back in your chair. You glanced at the room around you, which was a library with shelves filled with countless books on legends and lore.

"Y'all have a nice place." You sighed and relaxed your body.

"Thanks." Sam smiled and sat down beside you, turning on the little lamp in the center of the table.

Dean came walking into the room with three beers in hand.

"Want one?" He asked and looked at you. When you gave him a nod he tossed it to you, then tossed another to Sam, before sitting down across from you and opening his own.

You cracked open the bottle and took a nice sip, then sat it back down, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you admired the men before you.

The three of you had sat there and talked for a while and drank a few beers, when Dean stretched.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night. See y'all later." Dean said though a yawn as he gathered all the empty beer bottles the three of you had accumulated.

"Kay, g'night Dean." Sam called to his brother.

"Night, Sammy." Dean called back as he walked off to go to his room for the night.

Once Dean was out of earshot, Sam turned to you, a slight smile forming across his face.

"Y'know, I've been thinking, this whole time while we've been sitting here, about how pretty you are." He said, his smile growing.

"Really?" Your face flushed.

"Yeah. And I do kind of have some making up with you to do after I shot you and all..." His face flushed as well. You could tell he was a bit nervous.

Taking the hint that he was trying to flirt, you leaned forward.

"How about you do some making *out* with me instead, and we'll call it even?~" You smirked, making him blush harder.

"Deal." He whispered, smirking back, before scooting closer to connect lips with you.

When his mouth reached yours, you couldn't help but let out a little squeal of excitement, a thin layer of sweat forming on both of your bodies. You scooted out of your chair and into his lap, wrapping your thighs around him. He groaned around your lips as you deepened the kiss, your tongue twirling around his.

"We should probably go somewhere more private." He said, breaking the kiss.

You nodded in agreement, and he grabbed onto your thighs, picking you up as he stood from the chair. You twirled his thick hair around your fingers and nipped at his neck as he carried you back to his room.

The door opened and shut with a creak and left you and Sam alone in the privacy of his bedroom to do as you pleased. You were shaking with excitement and lust as he laid down on the bed with you. You wasted no time finding each other's lips again and you both let out tiny groans of enjoyment as you kissed enthusiastically.

"Take off your clothes." He commanded in a deep and rough tone.

You did as you were told and stripped off your clothing, starting with your blood-stained shirt, until all that was left on you was the patch over your wound.

"You're even prettier than I'd thought you would be." He gawked as he removed his own clothing.

Your eyes went wide at the sight of him. How the hell were you going to take all of that??? He noticed the way you were staring and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle at first until you get used to me."

You nodded and then pulled him back down on the bed and kissed him. It was like he was a drug or something. You just couldn't get enough. Every second that your lips were away from his felt like an eternity-long withdraw.

He moved his hand to his cock to line it up with your soaking wet cunt.

"May I?" He asked, waiting for you to consent to him entering you.

"Please..." You moaned, needing him inside you like a fish needs water.

He slowly pushed his tip in, causing you to let out a loud, uncontrollable moan.

"Do you need me to stop?" He says, worried he hurt you.

"No, please, God no, don't stop." You begged through a moan.

"Okay, let me know if you do need me to stop though, okay?" He said as he pushed in deeper.

"Okay." You said while you moaned and mewled in pleasure as he pushed himself deeper inside of you. You could feel every last bit of him as he eased into your throbbing core.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to move." He said as he bottomed out, his hips against yours.

"Okay, you can move." You said with a deep breath.

He pulled out slowly, until just his tip was inside of you, then he pushed back in, then out, then in, then out, then in.

"Mmm, fuck Sammy, you're gonna kill me. Faster." You whined.

He sped up his movement just slightly, making a subtle difference.

"Mm, no, *faster*. If you don't hurry up and fuck me right, I might explode." You exclaimed, desperation clear in your tone.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied jokingly, pulling his hips away and then pushing back in at a finally decent pace.

"Ahhh, that's more like it." You sighed, moving your hips to meet his with each thrust.

"Yeah... Damn, you feel amazing." He praised, groaning in pleasure.

"Fuck!" You yelped out as he hit your g-spot, sending an extra strong jab of pleasure through your core. "Mm, fuck, right there..." You spread your legs further to give him more room to move inside you.

At this, he sped up, pushing harder into your g-spot with each thrust into you until you were practically screaming.

"Ah, shit, you sound perfect. Keep screaming, baby." He groaned, moving his hands to your hips and pushing even harder to make you scream louder.

"F...f... fu... mm... FUCK, SAMMY. MMMN~" You yelled out as you squeezed around his cock and came so hard your vision went fuzzy.

He kept moving in and out of you, until his rhythm faltered, and his pace sped up for the final pushes into you until he came inside you, digging his fingers into your sides hard enough to leave marks.

"Wow." Was all he could manage to say as he exhaled heavily and rolled over onto his back beside you.

"I agree. Wow." You sighed, still euphoric and half blind with pleasure.

You huffed out with a soft "hmmm~" and scooted in closer to Sam's giant figure that lay next to you on the bed.

"You're good at that." You spoke softly after a moment.

He just smiled in response and chuckled as he laid there with you in his arms.

You were both already about to pass out, when there was a thump at the door.

"Y'all okay in there? I woke up to Y/n screaming." Dean's tired voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, we're good." Sam called and you both let out a little laugh.

"Ohh... alright then." Dean replied as it clicked in his head what types of screams they were. "Well, I'm going back to sleep then. Try to keep it down."

"We won't!" You called to him, fully intending on screaming at the top of your lungs next round.

Sam just laughed, gently kneading one of your breasts in his hand.

"So, I guess that means this is a more than one round type of thing then?"He suggested, smiling at you coyly.

"Mmhmm. I hope you didn't plan on sleeping tonight~" You purred, pulling him back up against you.

"Oh, I don't plan on sleeping for a week if you're gonna keep this up the whole time~" He groaned back, snatching you by the hair into an aggressive kiss before climbing on top of you for round two.

-SP<3

[ash5monster01]

I would love prompt #1 with Steve Harrington! Pretty please 🫶🏻

Wrong Address

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, miscommunication, instant connection

1. Three dozen roses have just been delivered to your door on accident, in attempts to find the sender and correct the mistake, you discover you might have just found your match.

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

While running late for work, the last thing you expect to do is nearly trip over three dozen roses sat outside your apartment door. Shock is what hits you first considering you couldn’t think of a single person who would be sending these to you. Especially today. Being late is no longer on your mind as you bend to grab the note sat perfectly in the center of the most gorgeous bouquet you have ever seen.

Robin,

I’ll always be your Valentine if you need one xoxo

Steve Harrington

Professor - University of Chicago

Realizing the flowers aren’t for you, sadness washes through you. Sighing you accept being late is just what’s going to happen today. Collecting all the flowers you walk to the phone on your wall and dial your work number. Lisa your boss is understanding when you say you won’t be in for a few hours and to take the day if you need. So with damaged pride and defeat, you hail a cab with enough roses to make you look crazy, and find yourself on the way to University of Chicago.

It takes twelve wrong turns and three employees to finally point you in the direction of Steve Harrington’s office. You prepare yourself for a balding middle aged man when you knock on the door but instead a young boy with dough eyes and fluffy hair surprises you. Confusion covers his face first as you give him a sheepish smile, a little bewildered because he was cute and you were holding three dozen roses outside his workspace.

“Sadly I’m not Robin, but I do appreciate the gesture” you say with a shrug that lifts the three bouquets in your arm. Realization finally paints his face as his looks at you.

“Shit, she is always yelling at me about not writing down her apartment number. I should have listened” he says, sultry voice wrapping around your heart and squeezing.

“It’ll be our secret, I promise I won’t tell” you say, lifting the flowers his way which he immediately moves to grab. The electric shock that vibrates through you due to his touch is surprising.

“A trustworthy stranger, my favorite kind” he says with a grin, red petals now tickling the bottom of his chin.

“I couldn’t just leave them, it’s Valentines Day after all. She’s a lucky girl” you offer and the boy is instantly shaking his head at your sentence.

“Oh, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend and she just got her ass dumped. I was just doing my part” he says quickly and the blush that covers your face surprises you both.

“I don’t know if that makes me like you more or intimidates me” you finally say, a rush of confidence spiking your heart rate.

“Maybe you’d like to decide over a cup of coffee?” he suggests and the smile that covers your face answers the question for you.

“I’d like that” you say and he nods, turning to dump the roses on top of his desk and quickly step out into the hallway with you as he shuts and locks his door.

“Thank you by the way. Not many people would’ve taken the time to find the correct owner” Steve says after a beat, wringing his hands together as you exit the building and step out onto campus.

“You’re welcome, kinda helped you signed it with your job title as well” you say with a chuckle and the realization that you know his name and he doesn’t know yours comes quickly.

“Shit I’m sorry, I should properly introduce myself. I’m Steve and you are?” his big eyes glance over into your own and you can’t stop the blush that covers your cheeks as you repeat your name back to him.

“What do you teach?” you ask after a moment and Steve smiles, his hand reaching up and running through his messy locks.

“Sports History” he says with a soft chuckle like he can’t even believe it himself. “Not really the most noble profession but it pays the bills I suppose” he says, a bit embarrassed. After all the chaos in Hawkins he found himself at community college doing a degree that didn’t bore him and somehow he ended up here.

“I wouldn’t say that. I mean you’re a professor. You’re teaching people no matter the subject” you offer and the soft smile that covers his face shows his appreciation towards you.

“I hope you don’t mind campus coffee” he finally says, nodding towards a small building that you’re happy to go in.

“Coffee is coffee” you agree as he holds open the door. After giving him your order you find a small table for you both, being careful not to glance up at him too much.

“What made you get into teaching?” you ask when he returns, warm cup of coffee now placed in your hand.

“The kids. Back home I was friends with this group of kids and as much as I pretended I didn’t, I adored them. When I planned to move away there was something comforting about the idea of spending time with people their age” he says and somehow this perfect stranger becomes even more perfect.

“Where is home?” you find yourself asking and he smiles, reminiscing on a place he hadn’t been in a very long time.

“Small town Hawkins, Indiana. Me and Robin moved out here a few years back and I landed the job at the University” he explains, taking a sip of his own coffee and glancing up at you.

“That’s sweet, you two have been friends that long?” the suggestion in your voice isn’t masked well, it’s just surprising to hear of opposite gender friends and not assume there are some sort of feelings there.

“Since I was eighteen. We never go anywhere without each other, especially when we moved here. She only recently moved out to live with her girlfriend, the one who thought it’d be cool to dump her right before Valentine’s day” and suddenly it all makes sense. The kind gesture, three dozen roses, saying he would always be her Valentine, how there was no shared feelings between the two.

“That sucks. You’re a good friend for trying to cheer her up” you say, now smiling at the idea of there being a man out there caring enough to send three dozen roses to his friend who had her heart broken.

“Yeah, which I guess now that my office hours for the day are over I better hand deliver the flowers” he says, laughing to himself for writing down the wrong address. Then again it would’ve never led you to him.

“I probably should be heading home anyway” you mutter, a bit disappointed that he was already thinking of leaving you behind. You must’ve not left the same impression that he did on you.

“I can drive you, if you like. After all you live in her building” and the offer has you perking up like an excited puppy dog.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind?” you grin and he smiles right back, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I don’t mind at all” so you find yourself in his old maroon BMW, still in pristine condition, with the flowers collected from his office now on your lap. You laugh when he tells you it’s his same car from high school and the more you find out about him the more charming he becomes.

“What floor?” you ask him in the elevator, giggling at his rose filled arms.

“4th” he mutters out, shifting and then sneezing from the flowers in his face.

“Well Romeo, try not to send them to the 3rd next time” you say, referring to your own floor and he chuckles as the doors close and lift you up. When the doors open on you floor you go to step forward before noticing he is following you.

“Oh, sorry. This is my stop, one more floor for you” you say and a sad look crosses his face quickly.

“Oh, I guess I just figured you’d deliver them with me” he says with a soft chuckle and you look at the sweet boy who had managed to crawl his way into your heart within the last hour.

“This feels like something you should do alone but hey, I’m not going anywhere all day and it’s Valentine’s after all. So if Robin is willing to share, you know where to find me” you say with a grin, stepping towards him and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Does seven work?” he asks with red cheeks as you step into the hall and you flash him a quick smile.

“It’s a date” and the elevator doors shut close, lifting him away and leaving you with a dopey grin.

Who would have thought three dozen roses not meant for you would still turn out to be the best Valentines gift you ever got.

[guarddog-of-proendos]

Image descriptions

- written by a visually impaired person

What is an image description?

an image description is exactly what it sounds like, a block of text describing the content of an image. this is important for many people but especially for blind and visually impaired people who cannot see the image (at least, not well enough to understand what's going on)

(people also cite that this helps people with slow internet, if you add that to this post I am hitting you on the head with a stick. our access to the internet is enough of a reason to add image descriptions, they don't have to help abled people as well.)

image descriptions serve the purpose of providing the same access to content and context in a post that you, a sighted person, have. the goal is to allow equal access for visually disabled people and other people who struggle to access images.

have you ever been stuck scrolling through Tumblr while images are refusing to load? was that frustrating? imagine how we feel every day, all the time.

How to write an image description

writing an image description is a skill. it's okay if you aren't great at it at first. not being great at it is not an excuse to not try. I'm tired of people telling me they can't be assed to try writing an image description because it might not be perfect. I would much rather read an imperfect image description than have no image description at all.

when you're describing an image the key point is to describe what's relevant, what you look at in an image. if the image is a tweet, describe what the tweet says. if the image is a picrew of an alter, describe what that alter looks like in the picrew.

You don't need to include every detail

a lot of guides will, with well intentions, tell you to describe a lot. sometimes, describing a lot is relevant. if you're describing a piece of art or photography then describing a lot is important because the point of the photo is to appreciate all of the photo. if you're taking a selfie, I truly do not care that your walls are blank and white. sometimes, more detail is less accessible. I don't want to scroll through paragraphs up on paragraphs for a photo that sighted people can just glance at and get the gist of.

take for example, this post divider I just used:

you could describe this as: a post divider with a large star in the center surrounded by a halo of the moon phase in gold. 2 horizontal lines come from it in the center with a pattern of alternating sun, moon, sun, and star symbols.

... that's really long. the point for sighted people is to break up the text with something pretty. it's not to admire all the intricacies of the image.

a more appropriate description would be: a star themed post divider

text, on the other hand, should always be transcribed in full. do not describe your DNI banner as "a DNI banner" that tells me nothing. put down all the text, all of it, because all of the text is relevant.

never use AI to write an image description! it's insulting and often inaccurate. problems with generative AI aside, throwing an image into chatGPT and then copy and pasting the sludge it spits out makes me feel like I'm not worth taking a minute to actually write an image description. AI generated image descriptions tend to be impersonal, inaccurate, and hard to follow because it just throws up all the random details it picks up on rather than describing the point of the image. with the editing required to fix a chatGPT image description you could have written your own and it would be better.

I truly cannot write an image description

ask for help. if you have no one you can directly ask, add a note to your post asking for help writing the description when you post it. when someone writes a description for you, copy and paste it into the original post. there is no such thing as image description theft, the point is accessibility. you can't steal accessibility. copy and pasting is not just okay it's encouraged!

on other people's posts (regardless of whether or not you can write an image description) you can often find image descriptions in the notes. taking a minute to check for image descriptions before reblogging an undescribed post is something fast and kind you can do for the people who need image descriptions. often you'll find a description and then hurray! that inaccessible post is now accessible!

....but I don't have any followers who need image descriptions!

yes you do.

if you truly don't it's probably because none of them can access your blog. fix that and suddenly you will have followers who need image descriptions

why is this in the pluralgang tag? none of you describe images.

Questions are encouraged

(if you have any)

[readychilledwine]

Monster Fucking

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

First things first, we do not yuck someone else's yum on this blog. If you are not interested in this, please scroll or check out "A Hint of Corruption" if you are in need of some Tamlin smut.

Monster fucking, or Teratophilia, is the sexual attraction to monsters, aliens, ect. In a lot of cases, the monsters are sentient beings, but not always. Monster fucking is a little controversial in the kink community with some arguing that it is a paraphilia instead of a kink and vice versa.

It has become popular in the past few years for a few reasons, but the biggest is linked to escapism and fantasy role play. Our dearest Tumblr is actually attributed to the increased interest in monster erotica as well. Most monster fucking fics tend to center around a female main with a male presenting monster, or non gender confirming monsters using tentacles. Monsters sometimes are human looking (looking at the fae with a side eye,) or there's some people who are straight up into dragons.

Teratophilia has actually become so popular in kink/taboo sex culture that it isn't uncommon to find websites selling sex toys based on monsters, the most popular being Bad Dragon. You can also find authors and artists who only write monster fucking fics such as Charlotte Swan.

Again, we do not yuck someone else's yum here. Please scroll on if you are not interested in today Bingo spot. We have a whole month of smut, I promise there will be something else for you 💚

Also a general PSA... If you are "grossed out" by this and using the excuse of it being monsterfucking, but you enjoy wingplay fics involving the batboys, Omegeverse fics, tentacle fics, Ithan shifting or Therion shifting smut fics. Your issue may not be monster fucking. It might actually be who the monster in this fic is. I said what I said. 👉👈

💕 Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

And, as always, NSFW below the cut

Tamlin x Rhysand's sister Reader

Warnings - wing play, p in v, beast form Tamlin, oral (female receiving), borders on definement/corruption kink territory

A/N - we all know I enjoy the Tamlin x Rhysand's sister or Rhysand x Tamlin's Sister thing. So I wanted to give you all both for this.

You flinched as your back hit the ground, a massive paw almost crushing your chest as claws spanned both sides of your neck.

“Tam,” you hated how afraid you sounded. Years ago, there was an ounce of fear in your body for him. “Tamlin, please. I was just sent to check in.”

Green eyes met yours as he growled. He hardly seemed fae anymore.

A beast more than a make, Rhys had warned you.

You should have listened to your brother better.

“Tamlin,” you whispered again. Your hands went to his muzzle. “Tam, please. It's me.”

His growl was almost a mix of a purr. You watched as he shuttered, shifting before you, but still held you down in his fae form.

“Sending you is low,” Tamlin growled, hand tightening around your neck. “Even for your piece of shit brother.”

You knew better than to argue with him regarding his feelings on Rhysand. Just like you knew better than to argue with Rhys about Tamlin.

You stared up at him, eyes watering in fear as his grip didn't soften. You had known the day the bond snapped between you and Tamlin that he would be the death of you, and if it was at his hands you died, that was a peace you could live with.

Your hand moved from his to up his arm, down his chest, then rested on top of his heart. Feeling it beating there, no longer a mess of stone and curses. It matched your own. Echoing through your head day and night. “If I am to die at your hands right now, just know I still love you.”

Tamlin buried his head into your neck, wrapping you in his scent like a comforting blanket. “Question, my dearest Y/n.” You ran your hands to his shoulders, holding him tight against you. You nodded for him to ask. “Why is it that whenever I tackle you in my beast form, you become aroused?”

You froze instantly looking at the sky to think of a good lie. You couldn't find one. Choosing to instead look Tamlin in the eyes and utter a sentence you had only ever admitted to yourself. “I've just always wondered what it would be like to, you know..”

Tamlin smirked at you. “I am afraid I don't know, moon flower. Care to explain?” Flush began to cover your sunkissed cheeks as you looked away from him. “Y/n, do you want me to fuck you as my beast?”

Hearing the question out loud had heat pooling between your legs, a coil tightening already as you laid below him.

It was taboo.

It was dirty.

It was something you'd never even be able to speak of to anyone.

But, Mother, the idea of Tamlin locking you in place with his claws as he fucked you from behind had you melting. “Yes,” it was a breathless confession. He growled above you, quickly forcing you to kiss him.

There were no emotions on the kiss from his end besides raw need. It was a mess of teeth and spit mixing all together.

Tamlin didn't waste a second. He shifted his hands to claws, the sharp rip of fabric echoing through the air as the torn shreds of your dress were thrown aside.

He began to kiss down your body, an occasion poke of what you assumed was a fang scraping the tender flesh of your breasts and stomach.

It was then that the male was gone, replaced by fur and horns and lowering his now massive body to the ground as a cold wet nose ran along your core.

“Mother fuck!” Your back arched as the cold against your heat had you in a pleasurable state of shock.

Tamlin began lapping at your core, a large paw coming across your hips to hold you down as you began wiggling away from the intensity of it. You wanted this, he projected into your mind. Stay still or I'll stop.

You whined begging him to continue by settling down. One of your hands went to his ear, scratching softly at it and tugging the fur there every so often. You gasped pulling hard as he pushed his tongue into you, stretching your walls. His nose nuzzled your clit at the same time leaving to breathless. He slowly began fucking you like that, tasting you completely. You couldn't think of anything but Tamlin. Of the years wasted pretending to hate each other. Of years you two were forced to ignore each other for Rhysand's comfort.

He'd kill you if he ever found out you had literally sullied yourself with a beast.

Regardless of that beast being your mate in a shifted.

Your hand began to lazily scratch his ear again as he brought you wave after Wave of pleasure, mind going numb to anything but that as you focused. He began to purr, tongue vibrating inside of you from the noise. You cried out, back arching again. He chuckled into your mind, increasing his speed, pushing further in with that inhuman tongue. “Tam,” you panted out. “Gods, please don't stop. Please. So fucking close.” You were walking that edge, the coiling so tight inside of you that you feared It wouldn't be a gentle slip from the peak, but a shove face first into the wind.

You felt your magic dropping, wings appearing on your back and splayed below you just twitching in anticipation. You don't know how, but he managed to curl his tongue, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that you would have never found it after centuries of self exploration. The scream that tore through you had the trees shaking, a storm crackling with lightning in the distance. His name was all you could remember as you sang for him, prayed to him.

You hardly had a chance to process what had happened when he forced you on your stomach and for your back to arch for him. A paw landed on the top of your back, holding you down and forcing your wings wide for him. His tongue ran the hard ridge of your left one, causing a full body shudder to go through you and your eyes to roll back. He repeated the motion on the right side, growling as he did.

You could have came from that alone.

Had the sudden brush of a cock much too large for your body interrupted ever thought of pleasure you had. Relax, he cooed to you. Be a good girl and relax.

Vines came and trapped your wrists above you, then your calves to your thighs, pulling them wider apart.

You were completely helpless to him. Spread open and bare, cunt glistening in the light. Tamlin growled, rubbing himself against you again, rutting over and over to soak in himself in your juices.

The slow realization of what you got yourself into fell into your mind and you did the best you could to obey and relax as the head lined up with your entrance. Breathe, he commanded, pushing in as you did.

It knocked all the air from your body, a pained whimper becoming all you could do to communicate. He began licking your wings again, watching as the pain and pleasure mixed through your body. He switched to licking the soft membrane, male pride swelling as you pushed back against him moaning his name and fucking yourself on to him.

Each little movement of your body had him sinking deeper and deeper. He knew there was no way in hell you would be able to take all of him, but Mother watching you subconsciously try, watching you whimper and writhe below him had all instinct falling to his beast.

He began thrusting in time with your movements, tongue still dancing on your wings in a practiced motion. Licking them like it had not been years since he'd gotten to lay with you in his other form.

He knew your body like the back of his hand still, and the fae part of him kept reminding himself of that.

This wasn't some random female from the Rite below him.

This was his mate.

Regardless of how he wanted to push further in, to fuck you like a bitch in heat, he couldn't.

The pace he had set was magic for you as your body still stretched for him. The burn had subsided enough that pleasure was shooting from ever nerve, begging for more and more.

You were going to finish to fast, but the slick constantly building and increasing had him deeper and deeper, inching you closer and closer to the Base of him.

You felt like you could no longer breathe. All the room in your body had been replaced with Tamlin and Tamlin only.

A miss timing from both of you had you screaming again, whining as pain mixed with absolute bliss all while shock hit you from his side of the bond.

You had managed to fuck yourself down to his knot, and now there was no saving you from the monster every fae had lurking in their skin.

He began slamming into you at a brutal pace, watching as you became a mess panting his name. He couldn't help but to growl, mouth forgetting about your wings and going to the pulse point of your neck.

It smelled so distinctly you. Vanilla musk and orchids mixed with sex and lust.

He felt your walls twitching around him over and over, listened as your cries became more desperate Until you were begging, pleading for release.

He was right on the edge as well, the fae side of him stroking the bond to let you know.

That Single wave of his pleasure, of his pride, of his need set you over, walls squeezing him so tightly he thought you would break. You sent him everything back, letting him feel the electricity shooting through you, and he came soon after.

It felt like wave after wave of cum was emptied into you, filling you much too full until he pulled out and some was allowed to leak from your aching core.

The vines slipped away, allowing you to fall. A soft hand replaced that paw, warm lips caressing the shell of your ear as praise after praise spilled from them. “Did so good baby, so fucking good. You looked so beautiful like that.”

Tamlin fell beside you, snapping clothes onto Both of you, a scent shield going up as a sound shield fell. “Your brother is here to collect you.”

You didn't remember anything after that. Mind falling to darkness as a wave of Tamlin's magic put you to sleep.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy