#feeling insufferable might cry

[chrisbangs]

also chans ig is so aesthetic and pretty and it makes me giddy and kick my feet a lil bc my personal ig is also aesthetic and pretty LIKE YOURE JUST LIKE MEEEEEE 🥹🫶🫂🩶

[sleepy-crypt1d]

massive collection of COF/AOM hcs i guess idk lol:

edit: i am putting it under the cut because i got carried away and this post is actually massive and i cannot do that to you i am so sorry

Trigger warnings:

suicide mention, cult mention, drug mention, stalking and obsession mention, abuse mention, hanging as punishment mention. general warning for standard COF/AOM stuff.

Sophie:

19 - she/her - bi

into taxidermy and entomology - specifically the art of it, wants to make art out of animal bones and bugs rather than simply preserving them. thinks of them as memorial pieces, making beauty out of tragedy.

is an older sister to a brother still in middle school/about to go to high school. she tutors him after her classes and before her parents get home.

works at her parents convenience store off and on when they need it. its just down the street from the college and they live above it, keeping her out of student housing.

studying to either be a professional taxidermist/bone artist or mortician. her mom wants her to be an artist while her dad insists she gets a 'real job'.

likes to knit. loves making gifts for people and learning how to make her own clothes. she makes gloves for simon in the winter and knit a sweater for her cat once. he hated it.

has an old senior tabby cat she lovingly named beef stroganoff.

has several spots in the woods where she checks for dead animals to preserve/collects bones from. simon always goes with her under the guise of 'making sure she's safe', she thinks it's just because he wants an excuse to get out of the house. the first few times he hated the sight of them but has since gotten used to it. david has not.

struggles with depression and anxiety just as simon does, it's something they bonded over when they met.

her and simon met in high school. her and david met later on at a party when simon introduced them.

her room is always messy but very cozy- each wall covered in framed photos, posters, art projects and random decor she finds at thrift shops.

she's close with her family but hasn't told them any of the things simon has done. she doesn't want them to worry about who she's hanging out with, or trying to stop her. she also doesn't mention david's past when they eventually meet him and start asking questions.

likes going out to parties and concerts and big get togethers but she doesn't have the chance to go very often. she has a group of friends outside of simon and david but she doesn't see them nearly as much as she would like to.

loves deer. has a stuffed animal deer she's had since she was a kid that she never sleeps without.

lives off peppermint hot chocolate. it's a problem.

has a collage on her wall of all the photos simon has taken of her and him together. some are of just her and others are of spots that are important to them. she thought about taking it down after his confession but decided to keep it up after he started to get better.

doesn't smoke but never cares when simon does. he tries not to around her and she always has to remind him that she doesn't care.

she's the one who got simon into urban exploring. once breaking a window with a rock and simply saying 'whoops' before climbing in where in he chased after her terrified of her getting hurt.

loves her studies but hates being at the school. gets picked on a lot and doesn't like being stuck there for hours. she's gotten better at standing up for herself but would rather fade into the background most days.

has thought about moving away before but feels stuck on where she'd go and what she'd do. doesn't want to leave her friends or family but feels stagnant in Stockholm.

loves wearing bracelets and necklaces and rings- has made a lot of them herself in her ceramics class and by picking up bead work from her grandpa.

struggles with depersonalization and derealization causing a lot of her days to blend together, hours, days, weeks of her life feeling like she never lived them. she fills out planners and calendars and journals in an attempt to hold onto the memories but most of the time she doesn't even recognize her handwriting. her brother helps ground her, something to focus on, a way to remember what day it is and where she needs to be, same with her projects. it's not a perfect solution, but it's all she has.

fucking adores Christmas it is her favorite time of year. she is insanely prepared every year and has perfected the act of gift giving to an unsettling degree.

Purnell is a therapist she was recommended when she went to the school counselor after a particularly bad episode, she didn't end up going but later passed his name to simon. she doesn't know if he ever went either. she hopes he did.

has a lot of nightmares. she wakes up from them frantic and convinced something is wrong- either with herself or her family, and gets anxiety sick around them. she has trouble sleeping and has made a lot of late night concoctions from recipes off the internet to get herself to pass out.

gamer but casually. except for that one time she stayed up for a solid 26 hours grinding in a game and then missed school for three days. enjoys simulator games and cozy mystery stuff. was introduced to silent hill by simon and she's been hooked to horror since though.

Simon:

19 - he/him - bi

loves photography and wants to be a either a photographer or a filmmaker. he loves movies and talks about them constantly.

single child. it's only him and his mom and sometimes his aunt who visits from a few towns over every few months.

his dad died when he was younger- this is where he gets his switchblade from. it was a gift that he cant seem to let go of.

his moms is so worried about him partly because of his dad's death and due to his suicide attempt when he was 16. she's overprotective and constantly wanting updates on where he is and who he's with. he's never liked it but knows it's coming from a place of love so he always responds.

adores horror. reads a lot of horror books and binges horror movies. has a top ten list that he will recommend to anyone who will listen. his taste is kind of ass but his friends love him for it.

favorite color is red and buys Everything in said color. phone? red. jewelry for his piercings? red. pajamas and casual wear? red. lighter? red.

likes going out for really late walks when no one else is awake. it calms him down and makes him feel like he can breathe. he sneaks out a lot and comes home once the sun comes up before his mom wakes up.

his mom works two jobs to keep them afloat so he's alone a lot of the time. after his dad died they had to move into a smaller house and she had to work more hours to pay for his school. he tries helping out when he can.

he works at a movie rental store and hates every customer with a passion. sophie and david come to pester him most days and they're the only thing that keeps his attention on what he's doing. unless someone asks him for a recommendation. then he won't shut up.

has a cat named molly. she's a long-haired calico he found as a stray in his neighborhood that he couldn't help but bring home. david told him to name her LSD. he took sophie's suggestion of molly instead. he still hasn't realized she also suggested a drug name yet.

he feeds the stray cats in his neighborhood outside his bedroom window. even after his mom got on his ass about stopping doing that since it was attracting so many of them. he ignored her, obviously.

has an extensive music collection that he rarely shares with anyone else. sophie has gotten a peak at it once but he keeps it very close to his chest. she isn't sure why.

he likes drawing and painting. he doesn't do it very often, not having the money for expensive materials or the space but he still enjoys his art class at school and keeps a sketchbook in his bag when he leaves the house.

his phone is constantly out of storage due to the amount of pictures he takes. he fights with it daily to keep the ones that are 'super important'.

cuts his own hair and doesn't really care what it looks like, just that it's There. he wears his hood most of the time anyways so he barely pays it any mind.

likes taking photos of his friends and his family. he likes reminders of when things are good, physical things he can look at and hold when his depression gets bad.

struggles with depression, anxiety, and paranoid hallucinations. he doesn't know what causes them and tends to hide them when he has them, not telling anyone except for sophie, who attempts to comfort him but has a hard time doing so.

got over his crush on sophie after realizing how much he had scared her. how much he had hurt her accidentally and how sick it made him feel when he realized who he was turning into. he isolated himself a lot during this and has only started to get better after opening up to purnell- who sophie insisted he see- and david, who lets him rant as long as he wants when they smoke together.

he met david downtown when he nearly ran into him and they got into a fist fight before sitting on the curb together and smoking with broken noses and shitty lives to talk about. he was nervous about introducing his friends to each other because he didn't want sophie to be worried and he didn't want david rubbing off on her.

knows how to use so many guns because his dad used to take him hunting. he didn't learn a lot and his use of firearms is rusty but it's enough.

keeps to himself in school and doesn't really talk to anyone unless spoken to first, and even then he's really awkward. he's got anger issues and has a hard time not defaulting to aggression but he's working on it. he's trying to, at least.

wears mismatched socks everyday like it's a competition

UNBELIEVABLY messy eater- a lunch tray hates to see this man coming. it's gotten so bad to the point he just washes all his own dishes because he cannot eat without a mess to save his life. also a fast metabolism so he's constantly snacking or stealing food from his friend's houses

has an old laptop that he's had since middle school. it was his only Christmas present one year and he has drug it everywhere with him since. it's screen has a crack across it and the keyboard is dented in on one side. its loved, is always what he says.

gamer but doesn't really mention it to people. has an unhealthy amount of hours in the games he enjoys and makes a point to 100% everything he does. has weird niche knowledge about the development of his favorite games and has a really hard time not spoiling twists for people when he's excited. has on more than one occasional completely ruined the experience for sophie and she has never forgiven him. enjoys story driven games and horror/stealth based stuff- would adore the first outlast. he plays shooters but has a hard time focusing on them and loses interest pretty fast.

love/hate relationship with his photography professor. he's one of his best students and his teacher loves his work, praising it's ability to capture 'melancholic normalcy' he calls it, but simon also has a horrible time turning things in on time and thinks his teacher's assignments are lackluster, constantly pushing the boundaries of what he's allowed to turn in. he knows simon has a talent, he just isn't using it properly. not in class at least.

earbud user. constantly has them on him and has had to replace them an embarrassing amount of times, he wants to use headphones but he hates how they feel over his hood and under his hood so he sucks it up and uses earbuds.

Always has bandages on his fingers from picking at his nails until they bleed and from frequent paper cuts from his journal- namely from ripping it's pages out- so he goes through boxes upon boxes of them on small scrapes and cuts. The same treatment is applied to his sneakers, of which he's had since high school, that are held together with duct tape and love.

David:

23 - he/him - gay? he doesn't know but like, he has a hunch

oldest brother to two younger sisters. one of which he still talks to and one he hasn't seen since he was a kid.

doesn't talk to his parents. occasionally gets a call from his mom that lasts for hours but then doesn't hear from her for months. he and his dad don't get along.

out of rehab and working at a diner in Stockholm as a cook. he makes good enough pay to have an okay apartment and a car but doesn't have a lot of stuff. he's getting there.

moved to Stockholm after the events of AOM and needing a new start. he wanted somewhere to start fresh. more or else that's what he's getting.

knows a lot about mythology and different religions, going on tangents about the topic when he's high or sleep deprived, always startling sophie and simon with just How Much he knows. they always ask about it and he brushes them off.

he was raised in a cult. his parents extremely religious and overbearing as he was growing up, leading to his desperation to dissociate. this is why he and his dad don't get along, and why he cherishes the small connection his mom still attempts to make with him. his sister he still talks to got out sometime after he did, but the youngest didn't, and neither of them know where she is. he always tries to ask, his mom never has an answer.

still struggles with his addiction. he's doing better, but some days are worse than others when all he wants is to go back. those days he usually picks up more shifts at work or calls simon to see if he's free to go break shit in the woods.

he experiences hallucinations. voices and images and things that aren't there a common part of his day to day that he's surprised simon can relate to. they don't talk about them much, but both have a silent understanding whenever the other just wants to sit and let the world pass.

clicked with sophie really fast when they met- she reminds him of his youngest sister, and he sorta treats her as such. she noticed but hasn't brought any attention to it, enjoying the experience of having an annoying older brother who she can pester.

he likes to play guitar, wanted to be a professional guitarist but never had the chance. his sister keeps telling him to go for it again, that there's still time, but he can't see it going anywhere. he refuses to play for anyone else, only letting her hear what he's working on or what he's relearned to do after so long without touching the thing.

watches a LOT of drama shows and trash reality TV. has frequent noise complaints from shouting at his TV.

has a roommate named lydia who he has a tense relationship with. she's constantly on his ass about the mess and general upkeep of his own room and he's on her all the time about the shitty friends she brings around and how much noise she makes when he's trying to sleep. he's been kicked out enough times to know he needs to find another place he just doesn't know where to look.

wants to get a dog but has a hard time finding apartments that are pet friendly. wants to rescue one from a pound or shelter since it reminds him of the dog his family rescued when he was a kid.

isn't Swedish but is slowly learning the language to better familiarize himself with the city- simon and sophie help out and he's always embarrassed about how much he messes up or how he needs help from- in his words- 'a bunch of loser teenagers'

has a beat up old flip phone that has survived through many different moves, a trip to rehab, several breakups, a mid-life crisis, and getting run over like three times. it is stronger than any of us.

gives simon rides to class when he doesn't want to take the bus and each time simon has a new CD to add to his already bursting case that can barely fit in his glovebox. he never tells him no. he sometimes wishes he would though, the kid's taste in music is unbelievably depressing. one time david told him so and the next time simon got in his car he chucked a kids bop CD at him to prove a point. david played the entire thing in front of him for a week.

only shaves if forced at gunpoint- usually by his sister or coworkers.

terrified of hospitals and hates going if he doesn't have to. was once stabbed and begged lydia not to take him and to just deal with it there. the wound didn't heal right and the scar is mangled across the side of his stomach.

always makes sure his car and/or apartment is full of snacks and easy to make meals because he knows half the time he won't feel up to cooking or he'll toss them at sophie and simon because he knows they barely feed themselves.

the first time simon and sophie saw him in just his turtleneck without his hoodie over it they thought he was a different guy.

he likes writing music in his free time, random lyrics and meanings and thoughts written in the margins of his notepad or scrambled in his phone on break, he gets a lot of inspiration when walking around town or hanging out at the old abandoned mental hospital in the woods that sophie and simon always drag him to.

the scar under his eye is from an accident when he was a kid, tripping down a flight of stairs and hitting into a bookcase that knocked out one of his teeth as well.

really likes birds, knows a lot about them and is able to easily identify most of them. he has a lot of weird knowledge that he can pull out at random about all sorts of things.

gamer and is the worst about it. claims his taste is above everyone elses and he just, plays shooters and a lot of zombie games. gets bored of dialogue heavy games and simon has had to- on more than one occasion- smother him so that he doesn't talk through an important cutscene. has an insane amount of hours in farming simulator.

The reason he wears a turtleneck, other than constantly being cold, is to hide severe scarring on his throat from repeatedly being hanged as a child. It was a common punishment in the cult he grew up in as a sort of "use your breathe wisely or else we will take it from you". It was an extreme form of silence punishment for "talking back" to his parents or the leaders. This left him unable to walk or eat properly for days or weeks at a time, which is why to this day his voice is very hoarse and gruff, his vocal cords never really recovered.

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: *sigh*....... .......

Ikkan: nervous?

Neta:......a little bit yeah.....

Ikkan: *hehehe*...... Don't be nervous, you have nothing to be nervous about I'll be right here.... And after this I'll be here forever

Neta: till death do us part

Ikkan: till death do us part...(Peck).... Fix your tie....and ..... perfect.....now.......let's get married

[wedding music]

officiant: Good evening everyone, friends family we are guided here today to celebrate life's greatest moments and to cherish the words which shall unite Neta Verns

Neta: *smiling*.....*sniff*.......hehe

Officiant: and Ikkan Kane

Ikkan: *smiling*.....*sigh*.....

Officiant: you would like to exchange your vows

Neta: I'd like to go..............*sigh*...... ikkan.... I always look back and remember the first time we first met.

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: you were very standoffish and quiet heh You're also a little bit mean just a little bit

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: If something told me that that really wasn't you. I'm so happy My hunch was right. Ikkan You're kind, You're soft-spoken, you're so patient ....*crying*... I'm sorry........ Getting to see you everyday. Your smile, hearing your laugh and listening to you speak ....*sniff*...about your interest. Your passionate rants about Arpeggio and crescendo I still don't know what that means but I love hearing you say it....

Ikkan: ehhehehehe

Neta: that's the smile I like to see.... I love you Ikkan you're my best friend and I am truly grateful I'm going to live the rest of my life with you I-

[Alright he's been in there long enough. Pull him up]

Neta: what!?......... what!?..... what's happening!!....*cough*.....….*cough*.....what the fuck!!... what's going on?!

Octoling Superior: alright Verns you've been in the pit long enough. Time to get back to training. All chargers are outside doing target practice. Take your weapon and go out with the rest of them.

Neta: what?

Octoling Superior: go outside and do tragic practice. Your punishment is over go

Neta: but-but-but I was getting married! *huff* Where's my husband?! My store?! I had a store and my family.....*huff*..*huff*.... Cirrina......my daughter ......what happened to my crab cakes?!!.*huff*.......

Octoling soldier: *hehe* what's he talking about?

Octoling Superior: I've heard if you stay in the ink pit long enough without interaction the brain starts to hallucinate and starts making things up......to keep it self sane. He'll be fine.

Neta:*huff*huff**huff**sobbing**huff**huff**huff**huffhuffhuffhufff......AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaah-HA!!.. what?…..huh?..................*huff*.........................*huff*...................*huff*............*huff*.........*huff*.......*huff*........ where is it? Where is it?... here.....*huff*...[squeeze]

Plushie recording: Hi! Demersal the grounding fish! I'm going to ask a few questions ok?... can you name 3 you can see?

Neta:... my dresser......*huff*...my bed....my bass

Recording:.............good job!.....can you tell 3 things you can feel?

Neta:...my bed sheets....my clothes....*huff*....cold floor.....

Recording:..........okay!!....can you tell me where you are?

Neta:......*sigh*....my apartment

Recording:...............good job! Do you know what time it is? The short hand is the hour and the long hand is the minute!

Neta: I know that.... it's...6:47a.m.

Recording:.............. wow! Now can tell me about yourself how old are you!

Neta: ......................35.......

Recording: .........wow! wow!you're so big!

Neta: fuckyou

Recording:what's your name?

Neta: Neta

Recording:.........that's a nice name! We're almost done let's count back to 10 together! Ready?!10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

Neta 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1......uggghh

Recording: you're doing so well let's take a deep breath ok? Breath in.....

Neta: [inhale]

Recording: now Breath out

Neta: [exhale]

Recording: you are safe.... I'm so proud of you! It's ok to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I know it can be really hard.. just Remember your grounding technique and don't forget to self-sooth!...stay safe hehe bye bye

Neta: you're lucky Behi gifted you to me...if it wasn't for him you would've been sold decades ago.........[chuck] ..............[inhale] [exhale]................ nibbles come here......Did I scare you off the bed?....*kiss*.. . I'm sorry..............hm?...

Mahi:*sleeping*....

Neta: heheh...*huff*...fish still here?.......heh makes sense...

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *yawn*..........ummm....uggg....... Neta you need to get a better couch this one sucks.....oh....

Neta: no.... I don't want you to come home... Not for something as dumb as a nightmare ..hehe....I'm fine.I know..i know I know babe I get that... You shouldn't have to drop everything for me..... I know you don't mind it but I do.... I hate that.... yeah I understand........ yeah........ yeah............................. You're right.......................*sigh*....no......I still don't want you to come home..... Can you at least stay on the phone with me for a while?....... Pancakes... I think I buried some hehehehe.....*sigh*... No.... it looks fine. A little dark in the middle..... It should be fine... You cook better than I do..... What are you doing?..... Why are you milking them by hand I thought you had a machine for that........ Oh she's scared of it? awwww poor manatee......... An hour? it takes an hour to get a full bucket of milk?....... Okay that's fair. They are big...I-(gasp).... Mahi!..[inhale exhale]........ How long have you been sitting there

Mahi: couple minutes..... Can I have a pancake

Neta:. .................... Yeah, I'm fine. No, it's just my employee, yeah fish still here......... I'll call you when I get to work..... I love you too...bye................... How many pancakes do you want?

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *eating*......

Neta:*eating*.......

Mahi: *eating*.... pancakes are good

Neta: *eating* thank you

Mahi: how do to make them shape like little octopuses

Neta:...Cirrina bought cookie cutter sets years ago. sometimes use them for molds for pancakes..... I use it for eggs too...*sniff*...........*sigh*............ I have to get ready for work.....[stretch].......[POP]...mmmmm......fuck not today knee...ssssss

Mahi:...*eating*....you know you really should try investing in a knee brace I think my friend has a couple of them I can see if she can give you one

Neta: that's nice........

Mahi: so I know you have to go to work and everything in a couple minutes. Would it be too much to ask to drive me to campus I got to go to the library and do some studying

Neta: Alright..... We'll leave 15 minutes... Do you have clothes to get dressed in?

Mahi: no

Neta: we can just find something in the drawer.....

Mahi: can I borrow these jeans?

Neta: Yeah sure. I don't think they don't fit you tho

Mahi: they fit me just fine I just need to cut the pants legs

Neta: *sigh*. . You know you might as well just take the rest of my old clothes. I'm never going to fit em again anyway

Mahi: really?

Neta: yeah really I insist I really don't care. You can have them

Mahi: are you sure?....

Neta: you know what I'll just give them to my daughter she doesn't listen to 'Cyrus in the cyclones' but I think she'll like the Cool vintage look of it

Mahi: no gimme! Don't give it to her! She'll just ruin it and turn it into a jagged uneven crop top! _______________________________________________

Ikkan: I finished milking tulip

Koi-koi: That's good hun. We'll have it pasteurized tomorrow. Just keep it in the fridge in the shed

Ikkan: alright

Cirrina: I'm going out..

Koi-koi: and where do you think you're going?

Cirrina: I need to go into the city The ferry leaves in an hour

Koi-koi: I don't think so. You haven't finished your chores you were supposed to refill the Manatee feed today and You're supposed to mix up the compost in the back.

Cirrina: I know I'll get to when I get back

Koi-koi: noooo... You will do it now. Young lady, I'm not like your father or your grandfather when I say do something you do it now. You can take the next ferry

Cirrina: but I-

Koi-koi: no buts young lady

Cirrina: I'm meeting someone

Koi-koi: meeting who Exactly?

Cirrina:.............a friend

Koi-koi: ....a friend? What friend?

Cirrina: (blush)......he's a boy

Koi-koi: a boy?.....

Cirrina: ... yeah....

Koi-koi: where is he taking you?

Cirrina: a museum, around town

Koi-ko:........ A museum?........................................,........ Be home by 9:00......... Here get yourself some food maybe a souvenir.

Cirrina: you're cool grandma....

Koi-koi: uh-huh whatever...... When you get home you'll do the chores that you were supposed to do and..... You wash the dishes

Cirrina: alright

_______________________________________________

Baja: did you see the commercial mom?

Baja's mom: I saw the commercial... I am so proud of you sweetheart You're going to be on TV how exciting

Baja: I know ... I still can't believe it

Baja's mom: this is going to open up so many opportunities. The benefits will be nice. You have a nice paycheck and a lot of money, make sure you save some of it. You're going to make so many new friends!!

Baja: yeah hehe I hope I do...

Baja's mom: I know you have problems making friends.

Baja: mmmmm

Baja's mom: You're a sweet boy you really are

Baja: thank mom

Baja mom: you know this might be the perfect time for you to find someone

Baja: fine who?

Baja's mom: A partner! Ohhhhhh I'm so happy for you honey. You can go on dates. You can meet new people. You'll be married in no time?

Baja: uhhhhh I guess....... I'm going to be really honest Mom. I don't really think I want to do that right now

Baja's mom: Well I don't want to rush you but it's good to start... You know your brother is already married and your sister is on her fifth kid...

Baja: Mom

Hine (Baja's mom): I know. I know I shouldn't compare my kids but let me just finish. Your siblings are no older than you and they've already have their lives set up and I don't want you to fall behind

Baja:Mom, I'm not falling behind. I-I just...ugh....... I'm just....... I'm just not good at dating and seeing people

Hine: What on Earth do you mean baby?! you're not good at dating? Honey, you're the most talkative and social person in the family! How could you think you're not good at dating? You're a real catch

Baja:.........

Hine: What about that fella you told me about? I looked him up, I didn't really like the images I saw .. what about him? I thought you liked him?

Baja: We broke up

Hine: you broke up?....*sigh*...... So you're single?........ So what are you just......... Are you just sleeping around?

Baja: (blush)..NO! I'M NOT

Hine:Sweetie, don't be embarrassed. A lot of young adults have casual sex ...I'm just saying you know eventually you need to settle down and-

Baja:I'm not.. I'm not..... I'm not having sex. I never had it

Hine:....…Well that's ok. Personally I waited to get married to-

Sibling: HA! VIRGIN!

Hine: Maui! What did I tell you about eavesdropping! Go!.............*sigh*....... Sweetheart..... I don't want to put pressure on you sweetie...... I just don't want you to be alone we're not good when we're alone... I want you to have a family

Baja: I'm not alone. I have a family. I have you and my siblings..........and Desmond I guess

Hine: we can't live forever honey you're going to need to find someone eventually.

Baja:................... alright..... I'll try to find someone...

Hine: I know you'll find someone there's someone out there for everyone including you sweetie....

Baja: ........ yeah.....l love you.... bye

Hine: I love you too

Baja:.....................danm

Hitch: we're filming in 15!

_______________________________________________

Bayou: this painting is a. Self-portrait of Joyce Veair she was our firat prime minister

Cirrina: wow... she's gorgeous she painted this herself

Bayou: Yes... She has so many paintings around the world. She even has one in Museum d'Alfonsino

Cirrina: really...... She's very talented.

Bayou: not only that, she was very intelligent and very outspoken....

Cirrina: what's this one

Bayou: this is a sculpture made entirely out of urchin spines it was made by tosh monui. Every month he'd shed his old spines. He would collect them and Stick them in a ball of wax until the ball was completely covered in spineies. After he'd take the rest to make a body, he would call them mace men because they look like maces with a body. He soon started to model them after cave drawings of primitive urchin

Cirrina: that's amazing....oh what's this one. This one is beautiful

Bayou: this one is called 'home'

Cirrina: it's a beautiful landscape....who is by?....... This piece was painted by One of the top students in krillarney School of arts and it's one of the youngest to be presented in This museum she has won several awards and has several nominations. We are privileged to have her in a museum This piece is called home by Bayou Ster..............wow same name as you

Bayou:.........ehehehehehe Cirrina. That's me this is my work.

Cirrina: oh..hehehe I'm stupid........ It's really nice. You're really talented....

Bayou: thank you.... This is one of my favorite paintings I used an old picture of my nan's old home.

Cirrina: I love the texture and the hills and trees. It's even in the river.... Do you have more paintings here?

Bayou: I have this big painting over here. This one took me a whole month to finish this one..... I rode the fairy everyday just to get the perfect reference for crashing waves

Cirrina: wow .. . it's amazing

Bayou: it's almost 6 do you want to get something to eat. We can go to Mrs Cuddles to get some fried cod and hush puppies

Mrs Cuddles: Harold, bring these pines to table 7!...

Bayou: hi Mrs Cuddles!

Mrs Cuddles: Bayou how are you darling, Cirrina! Ohhhh... You two hungry? Let me get you something Harold, drop two more cod in the fryer!!..... You to relax. I'll get you ladies some sodas while you wait

Bayou: thank you!

Cirrina: thanks............................................. So you're probably going to think I'm really dumb but for the past 3 days I thought you were a guy

Bayou:.............hehehehe Did you?.must be the tentacle cut huh?

Cirrina: hehehe... yeah...hehehe... I'm sorry.....

Bayou: If I'm being real here I don't identify with anything in particular...if you see me as a guy I don't mind it

Cirrina: if you don't identify as that I don't want to

Bayou: I see myself as everything and nothing, masculine and feminine and anything in-between. I really don't mind Cirrina

Cirrina: All right if you put it that way hehehe

Mrs Cuddles: here you go! Fresh cod and a large bag of hush puppies for the road!

Cirrina: thanks how much do I owe you?

Mrs Cuddles: nonsense it's on the house. Kiddies eat for free here. Once you reach the age to drink you have to pay

Cirrina: thanks Mrs Cuddles!....

_______________________________________________

Neta: *humming*...(Pat)..*humming*....(Pat)......

Ona:.........

Candi: *snoring*........*snoring*.......

Tv

Baja:What is music at midnight? Well as the names in the title says we're going to be talking about music and it's going to be airing during midnight.

Announcer: music at midnight a new late night talk show! Premieres tonight only on O.E.T!

Neta:.....*sigh*....... ikkan would love this show. .........me and him cuddling watching TV at midnight. Under a blanket surrounded by pillows...................... I miss him....

Ona: [baby noises]

Neta: yeah? You would like the show too Ona?

Bowie: what are you watching?

Neta: Bowie go back to bed. It's past your bedtime, go back upstairs with your mom

Bowie: but she snores too loud!

Neta: Bowie.. .... okay

Bowie: what's in this room?

Neta: noooo that's my daughter's room you can't go in there....let's sit down on the couch..... come on........(click).....why don't we watch 'Ollie? ...you like Ollie

Bowie: alright

Tv

[Music]........Mom!..[music].......Dad!.........[music].......Leo!......[music]...........OLLIE!

Bowie: hehe

Neta: you need to lay down. try to get some sleep before your dad picks you up. You start preschool soon, you need a proper sleep schedule.

Bowie: okay

Ona: [fussy baby noises]

Neta: you need to sleep too young lady ......

Ona [crying]

Neta: someone is hungry..... Come on baby girl. Let's get you something to eat and fresh dia-(gasp).....*sigh*..... I need to put a bell on you

Mahi: I need to finish my homework I won't be annoying I promise.

Neta: where's Baja should he be at home with you?

Mahi: He's at work... They're doing a test stream or something or whatever

Ona: [crying]

Neta:.......*sigh*... Alright ........ I have some left overs in the fridge if you want anything.... Can you watch Bowie? Just make sure he's sleeping or watching TV as long as he's quiet.....

Mahi: ......(typing) alright

Neta: come on Ona....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: ..... that was pretty good

Bayou: Yes I go there every other Sunday....

Cirrina: I leave on Sunday.... Maybe I can get another one before I leave....... Is that a music store?

Bayou: The old music store? Ye.....you play an instrument?

Cirrina: I play the cello .... It's nothing impressive really..... Second chair trying to get first chair in high school

Bayou: wow I'd like to see you play

Cirrina: no...nooo I-I couldn't .... You were going to take me to the cafe

Bayou: come on... Let's go inside....... We have plenty of time

Cirrina: ehhhhhh ok..... ...

Bayou: excuse me do you have a Cello we can try out?

Employees: sure.....hol up...let meh jest.......unlock.....here ya are..... .

Bayou: here you go Cirrina

Cirrina: [playing Bach: Cello Suite No. 1]

Bayou: [clap]...[clap] ...wow brains and beauty

Cirrina: (blush)..........you don't mean that

Bayou: I do .... You really talented

Cirrina: hehehe.............

Bayou:................

Cirrina: It's getting dark. I need to go home.

Bayou: Yeah why don't I take you to the cafe and get something to go and I can walk you to the ferry....{takes hand}

Cirrina: I'd like that.

_______________________________________________

Candi: mmmmmmm.....*yawn*........*huff*........(Squeak).....hm?

Plushie

Recording: I believe in you and your strength to keep fighting

Candi: Demersal?....... Do they still give these out?.....(Squeeze)

Recording: sometimes bad things happen and they're out of our control. It wasn't your fault

Candi: Cod I hated this thing ........ alright where are my kids? .... I'm well rested and ready to go........hey Neta..(toss)...

Neta:...ow......... hey........(Pat).......(Pat)......(Pat)

Bowie: *sleeping*..........

Candi: thanks for watching the kids. Donn had to go back to work today...*yawn*...... just needed a break..

Neta: no problem

Candi: how's Ona doing?

Ona:*sleeping*.......

Neta: she's fine......

Candi: .. That's good.. .... why do you still have this thing?

Neta: it was a gift... I got it when I was a kid...I just can't give it away

Candi:............

Neta: What! Ok what did you do with yours?

Candi: I ripped out the voice box and gave it to Bowie. He then threw up on it so I threw it away. Kids...

Neta: yeah... I had an old blanket I used to wrap her in. One blowout later and it was in the trash

Candi: hehehehe... Don't you just love being a parent sometimes?

Neta: heheheh.... Don't tell her I told you that she would kill me.. hehehdhe

Mahi:.......guys

Candi: hi mahi..........

Mahi: hey

Candi: ....... Donn's outside I got to get going.... Neta do you mind?

Neta: *scooping up Bowie*....yeeep let's go.....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: I really enjoyed this.. I had fun.

Bayou: I had fun too Cirrina. I really like you

Cirrina: I like you too ..........................

Bayou:...............

Cirrina:...........

Bayou:..........*leaning in*............[kiss].....

Cirrina: [kiss]........ Hehehe

Bayou: hehehehehe

Cirrina: (blush)..... I- I need to go....uh

Bayou: I'll text you.......[peck]

Cirrina: bye......

_______________________________________________

Neta: alright!! Drive safe!!!!.....*sigh*......... mahi go home.

Mahi: I just got here! And I'm not being annoying. Please can I stay just one more night please

Neta: No, I didn't sleep well last night and I just had to babysit two kids. Let me have my peace. You've been staying here for a week. You practically live here. I need to clean up, I need to do the dishes and vacuum the floor, laundry .. I need to clean out nibbles's box. I need to make this place look like I wasn't wallowing in my own loneliness. All right

Mahi: you can do that when I'm here. It's not going to bother you

Neta: mahi goooooo home.....

Mahi: please can I say one more night please? I won't complain about the couch

Neta: no..... good bye

Mahi: but my apartment is quiet. You complain about wallowing in your loneliness. What about me you don't think I'm wallowing

Neta: get a pet or something ... (SLAM)

Mahi: (bang).....(bang)...... Where do I get a pet

Neta:AAAAAAAAAHHHH........*sigh*.. . . You can stay. This is your last night here. Tomorrow I will take you to the pet store after work pick out whatever you want and leave me alone..

Mahi: thanks Neta!

_______________________________________________

@fish-at-fish-fish-resort mahi go home

[freedomfireflies]

Insufferable You*

Summary: The third part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry is still in an open relationship with your best friend, so maybe it's time to remind him what he's missing.

Word Count: 7.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, edging, spanking, brief exhibitionism, sir kink, masturbation, brief choking

“Kitten…what are you doing?”

Your whimpers are airy. Light. A string of breathless pleas woven between the soft sounds of your fingers fucking into your cunt. And you can’t answer his question. Can’t find the strength to pull yourself away from the pleasure between your thighs.

“Kitten,” he asks again and it’s firm. “Talk to me.”

He’s panting through his request and the sound—the image in your head of the way he must look, fucking his fist to the melody of your voice almost hurts you.

“I’m…I’m playing with my clit,” you answer. He groans. “Just like you do.”

“Just like me, hm?” He curses on his end of the phone and your legs shake. “How?”

“M’pinching it,” you tell him. “And pulling it. The way you like.”

His noises are louder. Needier. He must like the image in his head, too. “God, I’d give anything to see it, baby. Give fucking anything to watch you touch yourself for me.”

Anything. Anything. You shiver. “Yeah? You’d watch me?”

“Mhm.” He’s getting closer and you don’t want this to end. “Sit there on my knees and take every drop in my mouth when you’re done.”

Your hips buck up and your fingers sink deeper. He ruins you even when he’s not here. “I know,” you whisper. Your eyes squeeze shut. “And I’d let you.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh but could be a strained moan. You aren’t sure. But you don’t really care because it’s beautiful, no matter what it is. “Kitten,” he exhales and your insides twist. “I need you to cum for me, okay? I need to hear you. God, I need to fucking hear you, baby, let me. Come on—”

There’s something in the way he speaks. Like he’s just woken up. Rough and low and thick. He sounds like sex and you miss hearing it in person. But you were desperate—you had to call him. You had to hear him talk you through this moment and you’re so glad you did.

When you cum, it’s everything. Perhaps not as satisfying as when it’s with him, but still euphoric. And your whimpers of pleasure are what send him over the edge.

The phone fills with the sounds of your ecstasy and you wish you could record the way he moans your name. You wish you could bottle this feeling and get drunk on the way he adores you. 

Instead, you indulge in the few moments you have with him. Because you know they won’t last much longer.

“That was good,” you tell him breathlessly and he chuckles. “How are you so good at that? Even over the phone?”

“Could ask you the same thing. Now I’ve got a sticky hand and nobody to clean it up.”

You pout. “Stop, don’t tell me that. It’s not fair.”

He laughs again. “Sorry, Kitten. Couldn’t help it. You all right? You feel better?”

“I do. Thank you for letting me call you.”

“Always.”

Your heart skips. “So…what are you up to today?”

There’s a pause. A long pause and you know what he’s going to say even before he says it. “Rebecca and I are running some errands.”

“Oh.” Oh. Your throat goes dry. “Right…sorry, I’m…you probably need to go, don’t you?”

Another pause. “In a bit,” he says. “After I make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you say far too quickly. And far too obviously forced. “Yeah, no, I’m…duh. Obviously I’m okay now. After…yeah. Okay, sorry. You can…I’ll talk to you later—"

“Kitten.”

You stop. “What? I’m…I’m letting you go—”

“Don’t. I want to talk to you a little longer.”

“But you’re busy—”

“It can wait.”

Swallowing, you whisper, “Harry, I’m…I’m just saying—”

“So am I.” He’s firm again. “Don’t do that. Don’t send me away because of her. We can talk. I promise.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. You force the tears back. Why does orgasming make you so emotional? “I know, I just…she’s there, isn’t she?”

Another beat. “Not in the room.”

“But she’s there. In the apartment. Near you.”

“Yes.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “See, that’s…that’s why I’m letting you go. So you can be with her. Okay? I’ll talk to you later—”

“Kitten.”

“Harry.” You huff if only to make yourself sound stronger than you feel. “I’m okay. You can go.”

“You’re not okay. You’re sad.”

“I’m…no, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m tired. I came really hard.”

“I know you.”

“Well…you don’t know me that well. Cause I’m fine.”

“Baby—”

“Just go,” you insist. “I promise I’m okay as long as you are. I shouldn’t have called so early anyway, that was…I’m sorry. That was my mistake—”

“You can call when she’s here, you know that—”

“But I don’t want to.”

Another long pause that feels like an eternity. “Okay,” he finally murmurs and you pull the phone away to take in a shaky breath. “But I want your honesty. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Are you really okay?”

Truthfully, you don’t know. “Yeah, I’m fine. Swear. Thanks for helping me. I’ll talk to you later?”

“You will,” he agrees. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Rebecca’s dinner.”

Fuck. You forgot. “Oh…right—”

“You’ll be there. Right?”

It doesn’t really feel like you have a choice. “I…I don’t know yet, I might be busy—”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know that. I could have plans.”

“You do. With us.”

Us. Your nose scrunches. “I mean other plans—”

“You don’t.”

“I might—”

“You don’t. If you did, I’d know.”

“Well, that’s presumptuous.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. Because you talk to me. When I ask you a question, you answer honestly. You’re a good girl. I know you.”

Your chest feels tight again. “Well, I don’t tell you everything.”

“You should.”

“You don’t tell me.”

“Because you don’t ask.”

He’s right. You never ask him anything personal because honestly, you’re afraid of what he’ll say.

“Fine,” you agree. “I’ll be there. Are we done?”

He waits a moment before saying, “We’re not done. We’ll discuss this later. But for right now, yes.”

And even if he sounds a bit strict, you can’t help smiling. “Yes, Sir.”

“Mm. That’s my girl. Take it easy today, all right?”

“I will.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Kitten.”

“Goodbye, Sir.”

He chuckles and you hang up and even despite everything else…you can’t help but grin.

“Oh, my god. He does. Every time. He’s got such a weird thing with feet.”

You laugh. “It wasn’t so bad at first. But then he got a little too comfortable—”

“No, he does that. He really does.” Rebecca smirks as she throws the freshly chopped carrots into her pot. “And it started out cute, but now…”

You both glance into the living room where Harry is relaxing on the sofa. He’s smiling as he watches the two of you work on the food and even if he can’t hear you, he must know you’re talking about him.

“It’s still cute,” you argue in his defense. “Gross…but cute.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I guess he can be cute when he wants to be.”

You grin together and this feels good. You’ve missed your friend. You’ve missed having someone to laugh with, gossip with. And maybe it was strange at first, to come into their apartment and talk to your best friend about sleeping with her boyfriend.

But after a minute or two, you settled right back into the familiar rhythm of your friendship. And it almost felt…normal. 

“Has he done the thing where his left leg starts to shake when he gets overstimulated?” she asks and you nearly snort. 

“Oh, my god. Yes. The other day. I thought he was having a heart attack.”

“It’s the funniest thing. It just started, too. Couple years ago. He swears it doesn’t but like…I can see it.”

“It’s quite the tell,” you agree and you can’t help the way your eyes drift back to where he’s lounging on the sofa.

He notices and smirks at you.

“What?” you call.

He shrugs. “Nothing. You girls are cute, that’s all.”

“Bite me,” Rebecca says and he chuckles. “We’re not cute. We’re hot.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. He leans forward. “Let me guess. You’re telling her about the leg thing?”

“Yup. And I was right,” she says smugly. “She sees it, too.”

His eyes roll but he smiles at you. “It’s not that bad—”

“No, it is,” she argues. “You look like a dog. A very cute dog, but still.”

He laughs a little louder and you’re almost jealous of their dynamic. A dynamic you’ve been witness to for almost five years. And it’s never made you jealous before.

But now…

She puts the soup on simmer and grabs your hand to lead you to the living room. “I told you we were gonna gossip about you,” she reminds him. “All good things, don’t worry.”

“I’m sure.” He smiles at you both as you take a seat on the sofa. She flops down right beside him while you cautiously sit on the other end. Exactly where you’d been that first day you agreed to this arrangement. “This is nice,” he says.

She hums. “Yeah, it feels like old times.” She glances toward you. “And it’s not weird…is it? I mean, you feel okay?”

Feeling a little hot under the spotlight, you swallow and force a quick shake of your head. “No, this is…it’s good. This is fun.”

However, she knows you better than anyone and her brows pull together as she studies you. “Do you have any questions? Or anything we can clear up?”

“Uh…I don’t know.” Truthfully, you don’t want to ask. “Is it…is it weird for you guys?”

They both shake their heads, almost as if in sync, and you resist the urge to scrunch your nose.

“Do you…have any regrets?”

“No,” she says and Harry agrees. “None. Do you?”

“No,” you echo. “No, I just…I don’t know. This still kind of feels like cheating.”

They exchange a glance and your heart skips. You’re even jealous of the way they look at each other.

“Rebecca and I have always agreed that whatever the other decides to do is their business,” Harry says. “As long as we communicate, there's freedom there. No judgment, no expectations, no regret.”

“And no jealousy,” she adds, offering you a soft smile. “Or shame. Or anything like that.”

You nod and pick at a loose string on your jeans. “And are you two…I mean do you still…”

“No,” she assures you and you’re thankful she figured out what you meant. “No, we haven’t in a few weeks.”

“Oh…because of me?”

She shakes her head while Harry says, “Not entirely. Most of it is for safety reasons. Keeping things clean and respectful. But it’s also one of our rules.”

“Rules?”

“We have a few rules we like to follow,” she explains. “It just makes it easier. Sometimes it can be tricky and this helps keep us on the same page.”

“And no sex is one of them?”

“Kind of. We don’t sleep together if one of us is seeing someone else. Well, no penetration, anyway.”

You hate the way your stomach sinks. “Oh. And…do you date other people…a lot?”

He looks over at her and she thinks. “Not…really?” she says. “I don’t think, anyway.”

“Jack was the last guy you were with, right?” Harry asks and she snaps her fingers.

“Jack. Right. Yeah. He was cute. And then yours was…Angie? I think?”

He nods. “Last year.”

“She was nice.”

“She was…sure. Yeah. She was nice.”

Rebecca laughs and he grins proudly, happy to have made her laugh. Your nose scrunches.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Rebecca argues. “She was just put in a weird position.”

“Literally and figuratively.”

She smacks his arm playfully and he pinches her thigh. You want to look away. 

“Either way,” she finally says, “we don’t very often. And I don’t think of it as cheating. Especially not with you. Because I know he’s a good partner and I know that you deserve someone as kind as he is.” 

He gives her a grateful grin before returning his attention to you. “We can stop if you want. Because I agree with Bex. I wouldn’t want to lose you as my friend and if you feel pressured or unsure—”

“I don’t,” you nearly rush to argue. “No, I don’t, I…I’m just really struggling with the dynamics of it. I guess.”

“Trust me, I get it,” she says gently. “It was a bit of a learning curve for us, too. Harry can get incredibly jealous.”

You’re tempted to tell her that you already know but you watch his reaction instead.

His eyes roll but then his stare returns to you and he winks, as though he’s recalling the same memory you are. 

It makes your skin feel warm.

“Oop, hold on. I gotta check the soup,” Rebecca suddenly exclaims before jumping off the sofa to rush back to the kitchen.

And now left alone together, your attention is drawn back to the tall, handsome man you can already feel staring at you.

“Any more questions?” he asks softly. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and somehow, even that makes you feel safer. 

“Just one,” you murmur and he nods. “Does this mean you and I are…dating? Or are we just fucking until I can find somebody else?”

There’s a slight edge in your voice that you hadn’t meant to be there, but he picks up on it instantly.

“Are you looking for somebody else?” he asks.

“Not really. But this whole thing started because you both felt bad for me,” you remind him. “And it’s been a lot of fun. Honestly. But you are kind of on loan. I just…I’m not sure what this makes our situation. If we’re just fucking…or more.”

He takes a moment to think about his answer, eyes flicking between yours almost as though studying you. “Would you like there to be more?”

You bite back huff. He’s very good at redirecting. “I don’t know. Would you?”

“I think more can get complicated.”

Your feel your expression fall. “Right.”

“And I don’t want to lose you from my life for good,” he continues. “You know that. Neither of us want to lose you—”

“Right, yeah. It’s fine. Forget I asked.”

He’s frowning now. “Kitten, don’t do that—”

“No, really,” you argue. “It’s fine. You’re right. Let’s just keep it like this until I can find somebody else.”

The frown turns into a glare. “Kitten—”

“Okay, soup is almost done,” Rebecca announces as she returns. This time she sits next to you and throws an arm around your shoulder. “What did I miss?”

The tension is palpable. You speak first. “I was just telling Harry that I might not need his services much longer.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows raise while Harry’s scowl deepens.

“Oh?” she asks.

You nod. “Well, seeing as we don’t want to do anything to ruin the friendship…I thought I’d give Ethan a call.”

It’s mean and perhaps a bit cruel, but you can’t help yourself. You aren’t trying to hurt him. Because he is right. And don’t want to lose him for good, either, and all this evening has truly done is prove how close he and Rebecca actually are.

You’ll never be able to compete with five years of love and affection. And maybe you don’t want to.

Maybe it’s time to move on.

“Ethan?” Harry repeats while Rebecca perks up.

“Yes,” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping you would. He’s so nice, I think you guys would be perfect together.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a pointed look at Harry. “I think so, too.”

He knows what you’re doing. You can tell. And he’s oddly calm as he leans against the cushions and tosses his arms over the back of the couch. “And who the fuck is this Ethan?”

“Guy from my work,” you answer, equally as calm. “Nice. He’s been asking me out for a while.”

“A while.”

“Yeah, a while.”

His brows furrow. “So why do you want to go out with him now?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He was never really my type before but we’ve gotten closer recently. I think it’s only fair I give him a real chance.”

“Really?” He’s curious. Maybe skeptical. “Now?”

You nod. “That way the three of us can preserve our friendship. Since that is the most important thing.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” Rebecca tells you and hugs you to her side. “You’ll have to let us know how it goes.”

You grin and it’s all teeth. “I will.”

Dinner is nice. Tense but nice. You and Harry spend a majority of the meal exchanging icy glances and keeping to yourselves, leaving Rebecca to do most of the conversing.

And she doesn’t seem to notice. That or she merely pretends not to. She catches you up on some drama at work. Teases Harry about his sleep talking. Says she’s planning to visit her parents in a few weeks and then gives you the recipe for the soup.

And you and Harry nod politely, despite the unspoken rage from your ends of the table.

When dinner is finished, Harry offers to clean up and do the dishes. She kisses him on the cheek gratefully and says she’s gonna go take a quick shower since she’s got an early day tomorrow. She tells you that you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and then she hugs you tightly and whispers, “I’m so glad we’re still friends.”

You hug her back and agree.

The moment she’s gone, Harry sets down his sponge and turns to you. “Come here.”

You hesitate by the front door, itching to escape. But he’s firm as he watches you from the sink, eyebrow raised and jaw clenched, leaving you no choice but to listen.

“Kitten,” he repeats. Lower. Sterner. “Come. Here.”

You take a tentative step toward him. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Kitten.”

You huff and throw your purse back down. “I really don’t think we need to—”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m telling you that we’re gonna have a chat and you’re gonna come in here like a good fucking girl and talk to me.”

This is how he gets you. This is how he pulls your strings and turns you around until you obediently join him in the kitchen. Like a good fucking girl.

Satisfied, he leans back against the counter. “Now. What’s this Ethan shit you pulled?”

“It’s not shit, it’s real,” you huff. “He really did ask me out and I really am going to say yes.”

“But you haven’t yet.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I told you. He wasn’t my type—”

“No, I want the real answer.”

You frown. “That is the real answer—”

“No,” he repeats. “It’s not. And you know it.”

You cross your arms and look down at your shoes. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He wasn’t my type but now he is.”

The argument lulls and the small kitchen falls silent. You hear him sigh and it almost hurts to hear how heavy his disappointment hangs.

But a moment later, he’s slipping his fingers beneath your chin and raising your eyes to his. They’re soft. Serene. Filled with everything he can’t seem to find the words to say and you hate how quickly your body begins to crave him.

“You aren’t being honest with me, baby,” he murmurs. Your lashes flutter. “You aren’t communicating with me. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say and he sighs like he knows this is a lie. “Really, I just…I know myself. If I don’t put a bit of distance between us…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to breathe on my own.”

This makes him sad and it hurts you to know you’ve made him sad. “Kitten,” he whispers. He steps closer until his chest is brushing against yours. “If I’m doing something wrong—”

“You’re not. That’s the problem.” You swallow and he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “You’re doing everything right and I’m worried I’m gonna want you in ways that I shouldn’t.”

“Do you not want to want me?”

“Not…like that,” you admit. “Not when you’re still hers.”

He frowns. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about anyone else—”

“But I do. Because at the end of the day, you’re still her Harry. You’re on loan to me until one of you decides you shouldn’t be anymore—”

“Kitten—”

“And I can’t be with you in any way but physically. You said so yourself. More would get complicated and even if you wanted to be with me…I don’t think I could share you.”

 He considers this. A long moment passes. “So you’re punishing me,” he says. “You’re going out with this Ethan guy to prove that you don’t need me.”

“What? No.” You lean back but he doesn’t let go of your chin. “I mean…okay, maybe I wanted to piss you off a little but I really do think I need to be with someone else in order to truly move on. I’m not punishing you. I’m…obeying you. If anything.”

He scoffs. “If you really wanted to obey me, you would have talked to me about what you were feeling.”

“I tried. You said more would get complicated.”

“It could. There’s always that risk. But I never said it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“So…what? You’d date me?”

“Of course.”

The answer is quick and it surprises you but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.

You blink. “You…really? You would date me? Like…officially?”

“I would.”

“And…what about Rebecca?”

“What about her?”

“You’d…you’d still be with her? Right? Even if we were together?”

He seems to know what you’re implying and sighs quietly. “Yes. I would.”

“And even if you weren’t…I’m assuming you would still want to be in an open relationship with me?”

Another pause. “Probably,” he admits, and even if you knew it was coming, you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “That’s just the agreement I’ve always felt most comfortable with—”

“And that’s fine. I get it,” you assure him. You sniffle and he seems to wilt. “Really. I just…like I said, I don’t do well with sharing and if…if all we’re doing is fucking, I might as well just find somebody else, right? So that way the three of us can stay friends. And it doesn’t have to get weird.”

“I understand,” he says and you know he does. “I do, Kitten. And I would never keep you in a relationship you’re not comfortable in.” A beat. “But I can’t say that I like the idea of you going out with this guy.”

You smile. Gently. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He looks down at you and takes your cheek in his hand. “You’re my girl,” he says. “No matter what. If you’re with me or not with me. You’re my fucking girl. And he doesn’t deserve even a second of your time.”

You fight a large grin and cling to his shirt. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Because.” You play with his buttons. “You don’t get to be jealous when you’re still with her.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna like seeing you with someone else.”

You pout. “That’s not fair, Harry.”

“I know.” He brings his lips to yours. They hover—close—but never make contact. “I can’t help it. Can’t ever seem to help it when it comes to you.”

You want to push up and take his kiss, but he teases you just a little longer. “Harry—”

“Do you know that, Kitten?” His hands drop to your waist and he squeezes. Even though Rebecca is only two rooms away. Even though you can hear her humming in the bath. Even though he can never be yours. “Do you know how much I think about you?”

You swallow. Thick.

“How I think about the way you asked me to take care of you…” He ghosts his mouth down your neck. “The way you begged me to be rough….to spank you. Choke you. Degrade you.”

His voice is a sin and your eyes fall shut.

“Do you want me to degrade you, baby?” His fingers slip beneath your shirt. “Do you want me to pull you on my lap and spank you until you’re crying?”

The image in your head is somehow even better than his taunting. Your knees about buckle. “Harry…”

“You can find somebody else if you want to,” he whispers. “But do you really think they’ll be able to care of you the way I do? The way you want? The way you deserve?” 

His kisses find your chest while his knee slots between your thighs.

“I know how naughty you really are, baby girl,” he says and it’s over. “He will never know.” 

You grab his hair and he grabs your hips and you’re on the counter before you can even whisper his name. He pushes the hem of your dress up and guides your legs apart. He makes a home there, finger curling around the crotch of your panties in order to get a taste and it’s magic. Always.

And he does this to you only a few hundred feet away from where his girlfriend is innocently taking a shower. He does this, knowing she could walk out and see. He does this and you let him do this because there is no world in which you stop him.

“Harry,” you say—whimper—and he hums. His tongue licks up your cunt and your head drops back. “Har—wait—”

He doesn’t. He holds your thighs beside his cheeks and he sucks on your clit until you begin to squirm. “You promised to stay for dessert,” he says. “This is my dessert.”

The sounds are loud and beautiful and his curls feel good in your hands. You feel good in his.

Things fall to the ground. Bowls, pots, containers. He grins. He likes this, the danger. And he knows you like it, too. Because if you really wanted him to stop, he would. 

But you don’t. And you yank him closer to your pussy as though this will be the last time he ever gets a taste.

And deep down, you wonder if it is.

Either way, you enjoy his tongue and his lips and the tip of his nose that nudges your clit so expertly. You wonder how it’s possible to be so addicted to a man you’re not even with. A man that only recently started fucking you and a man that you’ve only ever considered a friend.

Part of you wants to get caught. Part of you wants things to implode. To believe that he’s doing this because he wants her to find out. Because what would happen if she saw? What would happen if he realized he wanted to end things? Would he be yours? Would he decide that your time and your heart and your pussy were infinitely more important than his sexual prowess?

You scrunch your nose. These are all the wrong questions. Harry doesn’t work like that. He never has and you can’t expect something from him that he won’t ever give you.

You return your focus to him. To the way his large hands are curling around your thighs and hoisting them up on the counter. You love his hands. You think they might be your favorite hands in the world.

They’re so gentle but strong. Practiced. You know they’d look good anywhere on your body. Your thighs, your chest, your throat…

You whimper at the thought and he glances up. He’s proud again. Drenched in your arousal and the evidence of your lust for him.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg and nips. He leaves marks and memories along the soft skin and you can’t wait to stare at them whenever he’s not around. The way he makes you his in the only way he can.

And you’re so close. You aren’t even sure how he got you here so quickly but he always seems to. And you don’t mind. Instead, you fist his hair and you buck against his tongue and he’s going to make you cum all over his girlfriend’s kitchen counter.

And then he stops.

He stops, he lets you go, and he pulls away.

Your heart drops to your toes as the orgasm fizzles down to nothing. “What…what are you—"

“Get down,” he says curtly. He slaps your outer thigh. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going. And you don’t ask. Instead, you watch as he wipes his mouth and disappears from the kitchen to wait by the front door.

After straightening your dress and readjusting your underwear, you scurry to his side with a fretful glance toward the bathroom. “Shouldn’t you tell her you’re going?”

He smiles. “She’ll figure it out.”

With that, you leave their apartment so he can take you back to your place and he keeps his hand on your thigh the whole drive. You wonder if he merely wants to keep some sort of claim on you or if it’s habit. 

Either way, his thumb rubs circles into your skin, right over the dark spots made by his lips and you smile. You want to lace your fingers with his. Want to hold his hand and pretend like the two of you are on your way home from a date. To pretend like this is normal—an everyday occurrence.

But you lose your nerve and soon, he’s pulling into the parking lot.  

“I want you upstairs,” he says and gives you a pointed look. “On the bed. Naked. And waiting for me by the time I come up.”

You nod quickly. “Okay. Are…am I in trouble—”

“That depends on if you obey.” He unlocks the door. “So let’s hope you do.”

Swallowing a giddy grin, you scurry from the vehicle and into your building. You don’t bother with tidying up or adjusting your appearance. You run straight into your bedroom, rip off your clothes, and spread out into a starfish position on the bed.

You hear him follow not much later. Slow, deliberate steps. Meant to taunt you, tease you. Make your stomach flip. And it works.

When you see his tall, muscular figure in the doorway, your pulse skips.

Smiling, you call, “Hi, Sir—”

“No speaking,” he says shortly. “Unless I say otherwise. Is that understood?”

“Yes—no—sorry, I’m…” You stop. Nod. 

He frowns but you know it’s only to hide a smirk. “Don’t test me, Kitten. You’ve already done that enough this evening, have you not?”

Another nod.

“And you knew better, didn’t you?” He walks into the room and begins to unzip his jeans. “Knew better than to dangle fucking Ethan in my face.”

You nod again but your eyes are trained on his hands. On the fingers that pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

“And you fucking knew…that if I got a taste of such a sweet pussy…I’d never stop,” he murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, wearing nothing more than his briefs. “That I’d forgive you. And let you off the hook.”

You don’t nod this time. You can’t. You’re too far gone in the lust in his eyes. The gentle green that’s now dangerous and luring you in.

“Well,” he whispers and then he smiles. “You thought wrong.”

He grabs your thighs and flips you over. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, head spinning, while a large palm comes down in a sharp smack to your ass.

You jolt. Shriek. 

“Easy,” he says and he’s kinder now. “You’re gonna take your punishment like a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Now you understand. You see. And you settle onto the bed as he smooths the stinging print with the soft of his hand. 

You nod.

“Good.” He spanks you again. “I think we should do one for every time you lied to me. For every time I asked for the truth…and you refused to give it to me.”

Your lashes flutter. You suppose that’s only fair, although in your defense, the truth would have only hurt him.

“Let’s see…we’ll start with five,” he says and you exhale a sigh of relief. “Because I know you don’t mean to be a bad girl, do you?”

You whimper.

“You want to be good. Want to behave for me.” He spanks you. Number three. “You want a lot of things from me, don’t you? And maybe I’m bad, too. For not being able to give them to you.”

The air in the room shifts and you attempt to glance back.

However, he lays another firm smack to your ass before you can and then squeezes your hip. “Come on, you’re almost done,” he coos. A beat passes. “Do you remember me mentioning the traffic light system?”

You nod.

“Red for stop, yellow for pause, green for good, keep going?”

Nod.

“Good. Then I want you to use your words and tell me what color you are right now. Honestly.”

“Green,” you whisper, then clear your throat and speak louder. “I’m green. Honestly.”

He hums. “And you’re gonna take your last strike, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And you’re gonna thank me for being so generous to such a selfish fucking whore?”

Your cheeks flush. Oh, he’s very good. “Yes, Sir.”

You still can’t see him but you can imagine his grin.

The last spank of his hand lands against your tender skin and somehow…it feels good. There’s something delicious about his pain. About the way he inflicts it. The way your body responds to it.

You groan—moan—and finally manage, “Thank you, Sir.”

He purrs something devious as he strokes the spot and begins to kiss his way up your spine. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes. The exhale of his praise dances across your back and you shiver. “Took your punishment so well. Wasn’t so bad, was it? Bet you even fucking liked, dirty thing. Didn’t you?”

You nod again and feel his knee begin to nudge its way back between your thighs. 

“Let’s check, shall we?” His fingers move now for the mess you already know is there. And when he feels it, he curses. “Fucking shit, Kitten, you’re soaked.”

You are. You are soaked and you’re making a mess of your duvet and his knee and he still hasn’t let you cum yet and you think you might die if he waits any longer. 

“Harry,” you nearly cry. “Please…please…”

He brings his kisses to the back of your neck. To the place below your ear that makes your stomach flip. He kisses. Sucks. Nips and violates the skin with his teeth.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay, but only because I know you need it.”

You nod again and begin to turn over. He goes to stop you—he wants to try from behind—but you insist.

“I want to see your face,” you say. “Please, I just…I need that tonight.”

The softness in his eyes and the fall of his expression almost hurts you. You don’t want to cause him pain or confusion. Ever.

But he’s not confused. He understands. And he agrees because maybe he needs it, too.

You pull him out of his briefs and he hikes your leg around his hip. Until the heel of your foot is digging into his ass and pulling him forward.

When he first pushes in, you both take a moment of silence to appreciate the beauty of your bodies connecting.

Harry was once your best friend and now he’s something else entirely. A completely different entity and you never imagined you’d see his cock disappearing into your cunt but now you don’t want to imagine his cock anywhere else.

When he’s about halfway in, he pulls back out and begins a steady pace. He’s large and he knows you need a moment or two to find the pleasure before he picks up a faster rhythm. So, he puts the focus on you. On your clit, on your thighs, on the way his lips feel against yours.

He kisses you—soft, sweet. Gentle. And then he kisses your neck. Your chest. Plays with your tits and whispers about how good they feel in his hand.

Then, he buries himself to the hilt as his hips find yours.

You arch and he catches you. There are more kisses, more soft murmurings. And there’s an intimacy here that doesn’t feel like sex. It feels like making love, a term you once scoffed at but now indulge in. Because maybe he does love you, in the only way he knows how. Maybe he does choose your body over hers. Maybe this was the best thing that ever could have happened to you. 

You grab his hand and bring it to your throat. Pointed enough that he knows what you want and after a quick glance for consent…he squeezes.

Your lashes flutter and you press on his knuckles. Harder. He obeys.

And you were right. His hand does look good on your body. A necklace to wear proudly and he whispers your name before tightening his grip and allowing the sides of your sanity to go fuzzy before loosening his fingers. 

You breathe. Deep. The air tastes like him and you love it.

He smiles. “You okay?”

“More than okay. That was…shit, I really like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Probably cause you’re doing it.”

He uses this hold to kiss you and it’s a mess of tongues and spit and loud sucking. It makes you giggle.

“You’re making this very hard for me,” he suddenly whispers.

“Well, I prefer you hard.”

He smirks, but this is not what he means. “I want this to work.”

“I know. I do, too.”

He surges forward—a sharp thrust. “It can’t work if Ethan’s in the picture.”

Oh. “Why? Because you need room for Rebecca?”

He sighs and you hate how sad it sounds. “I know I’m not being fair—”

“You’re not.”

“I can’t help it—”

“Well, neither can I.”

He stops for a moment and looks at you. “You have every right to go out with him. I know that. But I think I’ll lose my fucking mind if you do.” He continues to roll his body against yours and you want to purr. “So I want to make a deal.”

“Okay…”

“If you go out with Ethan, you go out with me,” he says. “If you date him, you date me. And I’ll play nice. I’ll share. But only until you realize he’s a waste of time.”

You run your fingers along his shoulders. Along his back. Along the curve of his ass. You think about his proposition. It sounds good, it does. A way to keep him while also keeping your options open. 

Because maybe this way, it won’t hurt so much when he still goes home to her.

“Can I think about it?” you ask. 

He kisses you. “Of course. Always.”

You resume the languid but fervent pace he previously set. He squeezes your neck whenever he wants to hear you whimper and you scratch your nails down his spine whenever you want him to groan.

And it’s perfect. Truly. Because while you’re on this date with Ethan, he’ll be able to see the marks Harry left on your throat.

And when Harry goes back to Rebecca, she’ll see the scratches down his back made by your hands.

You can’t help but feel satisfied with the idea and it brings you that much closer as Harry presses your hips to the bed and begins to fuck into you harder.

He readjusts his stance above you, knees deep into the mattress and hands clutching the sheets beside your waist. And every thrust is purposeful. Hard. Beautiful. The sounds are symphonic and when you look down to see, you nearly mewl. The way his cock is absolutely fucking covered in you, slipping in and out of your cunt with ease and determination. 

He’s beautiful when he’s focused. When he’s about to cum. You just want to kiss him and hold him and love him and be his.

And you fucking hate it.

“Need you to cum, baby,” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Can you do that?”

“Yes….yes, Sir,” you stammer, already feeling the overwhelming power creep up your thighs. “I’m…I—”

“I know. I know, come on—”

You do. Just like that. Unravel like a spool of thread and dissolve into nothing but pleasure beneath him.

But you don’t feel him follow. In fact, he continues fucking you through your high until he suddenly pulls out and comes all over your swollen pussy.

It’s the most mesmerizing thing you think you’ve ever seen. The sticky substance paints your cunt in masterful strokes. Glistening from your body, your clit, your thighs like stars.

And you want to be disappointed that he didn’t finish inside but soon you understand why.

He takes your hand. Moves it closer and presses your fingers into the mess. 

“Touch it,” he whispers. “Fuck it back in.”

Your eyes widen. He smiles but the look in his eye is mischievous and deranged.

“Go on, Kitten,” he says. “I wanna watch.”

Your arms are shaking. In fact, every part of you is still shaking from your orgasm but you obey. You slowly—very slowly—begin to circle your touch around your clit. Feeling the way it nearly throbs as you stimulate it. As you force it into more pleasure.

Harry’s attention is glued to the show before him as he swallows thickly and you swear you can almost see his heart beating against his chest like a cartoon.

You move down. Collect as many drops of him as you can and slowly begin to ease two fingers into your fluttering hole.

When you reach the knuckle, you gasp and he exhales. 

It’s perfect.

He scoots back until he can lay on his stomach and place his cheek against your thigh. Close. Close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your hand.

And he watches. Happy. A lazy smile on those beautiful, pink lips. Lashes fluttering every time you whimper or whine.

“I…I can’t,” you whisper. The sensations are too strong. You’ve already cum once, you can’t possibly cum again so soon.

He hums. “Yes, you can. Let me see, baby. Let me watch.”

And you almost want to be embarrassed but something else seems to take over your mind entirely and you can’t help but go faster.

You pinch and curl and flex. You push his offering as far into you as you can reach and then you push in a little more. And it’s easier this time, even if it almost hurts. But you cum. You do, right in front of his very eyes until he’s quickly grabbing hold of you as though he’s desperate to be closer.

You’re more than a puddle this time. You’re practically limp but you’re also so incredibly happy. And he smiles brightly as he pulls your fingers away and puts them in his mouth.

You don’t even have the energy to make a noise this time. You merely watch him—content—until he starts kissing down your palm, along your arm, and to your chest.

Then, he pulls you into his embrace and you both indulge in a moment of peace. 

You’re both quiet for a while. Even after your heartbeat has steadied. Even after the sweat on your skin has dried and the room no longer feels so warm. 

You run your fingers down his torso. Along the dips and curves of his muscles that seem more defined every time you see him. 

“You’re insufferable,” you finally say and he laughs. The sound bounces between the walls of your room—joyous and unencumbered—and it makes you giddy. He doesn’t laugh like this for her. “What? You are.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Another beat. Longer.

Then, you whisper, “Okay.”

He looks down. “Okay?”

“I’ll agree to your deal.”

“Really?” He’s grinning again. Big.

“Mhm. As long as I get to keep you in some way…maybe it’ll be worth it.”

He seems to sadden at the use of the word maybe, but he brushes it off before you can comment on it. Instead, he pulls you closer and kisses you hard. Forever. 

And maybe…this won’t be so bad.

Previous Part:

~ Insatiable You* (Pt. 2)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921

[silentheiss]

It happens on a regular morning. Luo Binghe is happily refilling Shen Qingqiu’s cup with tea, his beautiful face open and serene. Shen Qingqiu looks at him and his heart suddenly starts to ache.

His husband, so strong and yet fo fragile when it comes to him. So enduring, yet willing to give up all the poise when cradled in Shen Qingqiu’s arms.

He never asks for things he knows Shen Qingqiu is unwilling to give. He never got his truth.

System!

Silence.

Something hot and angry boils inside his chest. He can’t bare to hide a single thing from his husband anymore, no matter what it entails. Luo Binghe deserves to know he was never hated. He deserves to know he’d be loved in his every manifestation.

System, I’m going to tell him.

Silence.

Welp, here goes nothing.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu starts.

“Yes, Shizun?” Luo Binghe looks up, pitch-black eye gleaming and eager. He is precious.

“This master needs to tell you something important.” Shen Qingqiu falls silent for a moment, waiting for System to blow up with warning signs. And yet — nothing.

“Is- is everything alright?” Luo Binghe looks around the room, as if checking for threat.

“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu says. “It’s just that this husband has something to say. I haven’t been completely honest with Binghe, and it’s time to fix that.”

Luo Binghe visibly tenses.

“Is that safe?” He asks, carefully.

Ah, his perceptive, intelligent husband. Truly, his IQ is higher than the mountain they’re currently on.

“I don’t know.” Shen Qingqiu admits. “But I can’t stay silent on this matter any longer.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head, dropping his cup on the table. The tea spills across the wood. Neither of them pay it any attention.

“If Shizun’s wellbeing might be compromised, then I don’t want to know it.”

“Don’t you?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “Don’t you want to know why I did what I did?”

A breath Luo Binghe takes is a sharp little thing. Shen Qingqiu’s heart breaks for him, for the thousands time.

Suddenly, the weight of secrets is unbearably heavy on his shoulders. It’s a miracle he can still sit straight — he feels like any second now he’d get crushed into the floor.

“I don’t need to know it.” Luo Binghe relents.

“I think you do.”

And then, Shen Qingqiu starts to talk. He talks and talks, eyes never leaving his husband’s face, because if System decides to kill him after all, his Binghe’s face is what he wants to see last.

Luo Binghe listens. He’s not even crying, which is surprising, but Shen Qingqiu pushes himself to finish the monologue before reacting in any way. When he’s done, Luo Binghe takes a slow breath. Then another.

Then, he speaks.

“I am sorry.” He says.

What! He is sorry?

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims, heart in his throat. “What can you be possibly sorry about?”

“I failed you.” Luo Binghe

“What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to be stronger to protect Shizun, but failed to recognize that Shizun was under attack the whole time.” Luo Binghe looks bitter and ashamed, eyes downcast. “Begging Shizun for punishment.”

Shen Qingqiu is suddenly angry all over again. Punishment! He’s begging for punishment! Insufferable boy!

“You want me to punish you? For being a child who failed to recognize something this master has been purposely hiding?” He demands.

Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s eternal heartache, nods meekly.

“A child.” He says, slow and pained. “A bright, eager boy. Sweet, sticky, kind. A child who lived through so much pain, who suffered since the moment he was born yet he kept fighting, and trying, and being good. A child that I failed to protect. He deserves punishment?”

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe whispers. “Please.”

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu mirrors his husband. “Please. Please, never suggest you deserve anything but love from me. It’s not true. It’s never been true.”

Shen Qingqiu is ready for the table to topple over and Luo Binghe to fall on his lap. He catches him with shaky hands.

Cold tea spills all over the floor. Despite heavy weight on his lap, Shen Qingqiu’s heart, for the first time in forever, is light.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

AN: I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, so if you're new here I promise my writing it typically so much better. ALSO there are so many new faces on here! I wanted to say hello and thank you for the love once again! If you liked this fic and you love drama, forbidden love, protective acotar boys, a bit of a slow burn, and political intrigue you would LOVE and I mean LOVE my fic Young Love and Old Money. I’m still writing it but it’s almost completed! Go check it out you won’t be disappointed!

and of course check out my masterlist

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: smut, so much lucien fluff, happy ending for lucien (for once) :)

Word count: 5057

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened. 

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all. 

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him,  until today. 

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. I didn’t even give him a chance to ask if I was alright before I started blubbering. 

“Lu I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. She just got under my skin and I-” 

“Shhh” he cooed, pulling me into his chest. “It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t react much better when Azriel started talking.” he chuckled, no doubt remembering how he preemptively called me his wife, the words had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly it was admirable. 

“He’s never raised his voice to me like that. Not ever,” I hiccup into his chest, his scent like apples, spiced berries and woodsmoke. 

“I should’ve burned him to a crisp for doing so he has no right to treat you that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“It’s alright, now that he knows he’ll be entitled to act possessive of me,” I sigh, starting to feel my pulse slow in his arms. 

“And I’m not granted that same right? To protect you?” Lucien said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. 

“Well, you aren’t my mate,” I laugh looking into his eyes. 

“And what if that doesn’t matter to me? That we aren’t mates? What if I think that the Cauldron made a terrible, horrible mistake by not binding me to you in every way imaginable?” he confesses. 

I search his face for a hint of that playful gleam I saw earlier. The trickster, the silver tongued fox who might be playing me for a fool. But I didn’t find it, for all those fiery eyes bore was sincerity. 

“What do you mean Lu?” I ask earnestly. 

“Exactly what I said, you aren’t my mate, but…” he stops as if to consider his words. “But I still feel like you are in a way, I feel protective of you. In a way I always have, remember when you scraped your knee climbing that cherry blossom tree in the spring court all those years ago?” 

I smile remembering the event, I had wanted some cherry blossoms to braid into my hair. “Yes I do, I still have the scar.” I laughed. 

“I know you do, I see it every time I make love to you,” he smiled back. “I remember carrying you to the healers at the spring court from half a mile out. Even then I couldn’t stand the thought of you bearing any sort of scar. What I’m trying to say is that you may not be my mate, but I love you like you’re mine. Because you are, you are mine.”

My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes go wide at those three little words. The ones I thought I might’ve felt too these past few months. 

I love you. 

For a year now things between Lucien and I had been strictly situational, just a means to an end. Then I started noticing the little things, his toothbrush next to mine, his laundry in my hamper, him having his own side of the bed. Things changed, but it wasn’t a bad change, which was a new idea for me, as I had always resented change. But not this, this was good. 

I thought I had felt that emotion with Lucien before. The night that I came home and he had made us both dinner. The time he bought me the second book in a series just because he noticed I was almost done with the first. The week I was sick he nursed my back to health. I thought I felt love each and every one of those times, but I wasn’t sure. I always teetered on saying it but never caved. But as I stood here in his arms, watching his eyes light up as he said those words to me, I knew I felt the same.

“I-I love you too Lucien,” I said quietly so only he could hear, even though we were the only two people in the house. 

He wastes no time bringing his mouth to mine, for so long our kisses had been fervent, needy. Both of us desiring pleasure and the codling that came after it. This kiss was different than all the rest, in it I felt real love. The kind I had only read about in my numerous romance novels. I dreamed of being kissed this way my entire life. 

I felt strong hands grip my waist hoisting me up. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he started bounding up the stairs, his enthusiasm making me giggle.

“Believe me my love, there is nothing funny about the way I’m going to ravish you tonight,” he smirked before kicking open the bedroom door. 

The next day I woke up slowly, not wanting to move from where Lucien had placed me on his chest last night. Both of us took our time to have a steady morning knowing that later in the day there would be chaos. Lucien got up first, always the more responsible of the two of us. When I murmured a sleepy protest he simply chuckled and placed me back in bed, where I snuggled into the warm sheets that smell faintly of him. 

When I woke for the second time I smelled that delectable scent of pancakes wafting through the small townhouse. The aroma pulled me from the sheets in a sleepy haze as if my body was controlled by some other worldly force. Slipping on my blue nightgown and padding downstairs into the kitchen I found Lucien half clothed and cooking breakfast for the two of us.

“Blueberry pancakes, not chocolate chip,” he assured me, sprinkling fresh blueberries onto a pancake. 

“You remembered,” I sighed leaning against the counter watching him intently. When Lucien had first made breakfast for me I was taken aback by his cooking skills, there was no way that this man was the complete package. 

“How could I forget?” he laughed, flipping a pancake. “Last time I made chocolate you were on your cycle and you were so befuddled that you yanked the spatula out of my hand and spanked me with it.” 

I slid between him and the stove, “Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” I say my voice low and sultry as my hand slowly reaches for the spatula he’s hidden behind his back. 

“You little minx,” he teases when he feels my fingers searching for the torture weapon. The mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes and before I can run he swipes a blob of whipped cream from a nearby bowl onto my cheek. 

“Lu!” I scoff going to wipe the cream off my cheek but he grasps my wrist to stop me. 

“Fair is fair my dear,” he smirks before licking the sweetness off my cheek. I immediately feel my toes curl at the fiery sensation.

“You are insatiable,” I laughed, moving away from him to properly wipe my face.

I feel a quick slap to my arse with the spatula and I turn to see my fiancé standing with a self satisfied smirk. “Says you little miss ‘more Lucien more!’” he teases recalling how I begged him to touch me last night.

“I knew you would  tease me about that!” I shouted, pushing his study form as hard as I could, he didn’t even teeter. “I’ll never beg for you again!” 

He smiles, grabbing my left hand and pulling it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the ring adorning it. “There will never be a need,” he smirked. “Now go and set the table, babysitting Nyx duties can’t be put off for forever.” 

I had told Rhys and Feyre that I would happily watch Nyx this afternoon. Of course that was before they knew about Lucien, who might’ve gotten away with a pleasant afternoon in my townhouse with a new book but now? He was shackled to me to watch the young one.

 While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed. 

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book. 

“Just imagine till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out. 

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me. 

 He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“Is it bad that I’m enjoying watching this?” he admitted. 

“Watching what?” I laugh as Nyx puts the necklace in his mouth. 

“You, with a baby in your arms,” he said. 

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “As many as you would like my darling.” he laughed. 

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Of course,” he assured me. 

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms. 

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause. 

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over.  I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, but now things had changed. 

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance. 

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple. 

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip. 

“How was he? Was he good?” Feyre smiled crossing the room to take her son in her arms once more.

“He was, but those wings are going to give me grief one day,” I smile watching Nyx snuggle into his mothers arms. 

“Don’t worry I’m terrified too,” Rhys laughed, approaching his mate and child. 

A comfortable silence ensued as I watched the little family reunite, smiles and warmth surrounding them. Lucien’s hand came to my shoulder, as if promising that we too would have that same picture perfect family one day. 

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.  

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

“If you lay one hand on her spymaster I will burn you to ash,” Lucien growled, his hand on my shoulder tightening possessively.

“You have my word that I will not touch her in anger,” Azriel said earnestly, not a hint of teasing or mockery. Instead, a new found respect for Lucien showed in his eyes. 

I go to follow Azriel into the other room when I feel Lucien grab my hand pulling me into his broad chest. 

“Wait,” he said before slamming his lips to mine. The gesture was so passionate I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of moans as I felt him cradle the back of my head. This wasn’t just a kiss goodbye, it was a display of power to Azriel, letting him know how serious the two of us were. I couldn’t help but feel my lips turn up at Lucien’s sudden daring. 

I felt him back away to survey my face, as if looking for any hesitancy to enter into a conversation with Azriel. When he was certain I was comfortable he placed a kiss on my brow, “I’ll be right here if you need me.” he said as I dropped his hand and followed Azriel into Rhys’ study. 

The doors to the office closed with a resolute click as Azriel turned to face me, his eyes somber. 

“First and foremost I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that or said the things I did” he said leaning against the desk a food meter away from me, as if Lucien had scared him from coming any closer. 

“It’s alright I forgive you. I shouldn’t have blurted out such an important thing anyways. We were both at fault.” I say earnestly. 

Azriel pulls his gaze from his boots to me, “I heard what you said in there, about your children having wings. Did you ever picture that those children would be?” he starts leaving me room to finish the sentence for him. 

“Yours? Yes.” I say timidly.

Azriel sighs as if weighing what all this means, “How long have you known?” he prompts. 

I think to lie, but it wouldn’t bear well on my soul. It was best to get it all out in the open. 

“400 years.” I confess and he curses under his breath. “I knew it the night you danced with me at the solstice ball in the Hewn City.” 

“Fuck y/n,” he curses again, turning to brace his hands on the desk behind him and I take a tentative step towards him. 

“I’m sorry I never told you, that wasn’t fair to you.” I sigh, but he doesn’t reply so I continue on. “It’s just that every time I thought about it you were pining for Mor and then Elain. I never felt I stood a chance. But you would talk to me about them, and even though it broke my heart to hear how you loved them so, it was better than losing you. I told myself that if I couldn’t have your love I would cherish your friendship, and maybe that was selfish of me but I did it.” 

Azriel finally turned from the desk to meet my gaze and I tried to offer him the most sympathetic glance I could. 

“I understand why you never told me, but I still wish I had known. Thing’s might’ve been different.” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

I pause to consider his words, “Would they be?” I ask. 

He looked at me in confusion, like I was dispelling the idea that the sky was blue. I understood his disarray. For thousands of years things had always been the same, mates were mates and that was that. But maybe what Lucien said last night did have merit. 

“Are you not happy with Elain?” I prompt him with a light heart, as I finally started to feel some solace in my own words. 

“y/n I don’t want to-” 

“You do not burden me Az.” I interrupt him, knowing what he was going to say. “Tell me truthfully.” 

A blush tints his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his boots once more, “I am happy. I am very happy.” he smiles as if he can’t help it. 

“I think it was meant to be this way,” I say honestly watching the shadowsinger reeling in front of me. 

“What about you? Are you?”

“Happy?” I ask, glancing to the door where I know Lucien waits for me on the other side. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” I smile answering him. 

“How long have you and him been… you know?” he asks, seemling losing all tension in his body as he sees me at ease.  

“Since starfall,” I answered, remembering the first time Lu kissed me. 

“A year?!” Az balked, raising his voice in disbelief. 

I laugh watching his face drop, “it’s interesting the things you don’t notice when you’re in love,” I wink at him, knowing he was too caught up with Elain to pay any mind to Lu and I. 

Azriel shakes his head as if processing this new information before he turns to me again, “And do you love him?” he asks. 

I smile remembering last night, “I do, I love him very much.” I answer. 

“And does he love you?” Az presses further, as if he needs to tie up all loose ends before he can be at ease with the entire situation. 

“I think he made that pretty clear a couple minutes ago,” I laughed, referring to the kiss he gave me. 

“Yeah I suppose I got that message loud and clear,” Azriel chuckled as a pause of silence fell over us. “I think… I think in another lifetime we would’ve made each other really happy.”

“Maybe even this lifetime.” I say sadly thinking of what could’ve been. “But I love Lucien, he chose me when I thought no one else would, and maybe I’m making a mistake by marrying him. But somehow it feels like the first right thing I’ve done in the past 400 years.” 

“He’s a very lucky man,” Azriel remarked with a certain sadness. “I hope that you will be happy with him,” he finished seemingly giving me his blessing.

“I think it was meant to be this way, don't you?” I ask, finally feeling my heart and my conscious lighten. 

“I do,” he smiles before holding his hand out to me. “Friends?” he asks. 

I nod clasping my hand in his, “Friends.” 

“Let’s get you back to your fiancé before I find myself in a pile of ash on the floor,” Azriel chuckles, putting his hand on the door. 

I laugh with him and when the door to the living room opens I find Lucien and Elain hugging. 

My heart is caught in my throat as I realize that perhaps Lucien might’ve changed his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. She was his true mate after all and, she was astonishingly beautiful. Maybe I was misled when Azriel and I settled our differences. 

Both their heads whipped our way, and Lucien’s smile shined brightly. I was unsure of who that smile was for until he ran over to me, grabbing me by the hips and spinning me around. 

“It is done,” Lucien cheered and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel throw an arm around Elain’s shoulders. 

“What is?” I laughed once my feet were back on the ground. 

“I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to call you my wife by sundown.” Lucien said affectionately. 

“And why shouldn’t you wait? She’s a princess after all, you should snatch her up while you can,” Elain called out affectionately from Azriel’s side. I couldn’t help but look at the two of them standing there.  

A hand snaked its way under my chin taking my attention to him before he planted his lips on mine. “Be mine, forever.” he proposed. 

I couldn’t stop the smile that graced my face, “Okay,” I said quietly. 

A cheer from Elain erupted behind me and suddenly it felt like all the pieces were falling into place, like everything I had ever wanted for myself had now come true. 

The ceremony was short, just like Lucien and I had wanted. However, instead of an elopement it was a small gathering, Cass and Ness, Amren, Mor, Az and Elain and of course Rhys and Feyre were present. I wore my mothers dress and at some point Lu had slipped out to buy me a proper ring, not that I minded the old one. 

The rest of the night was filled with drinking and frivolity. The whole family laughing and telling stories, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged with all of them, as I sat on my husband's lap. It wasn’t until many glasses of wine later that I found Lucien carrying me bridal style over the threshold of our home. 

“This really isn’t necessary,” I laughed, holding a spare bottle of wine in my hand as he stepped through the doorway, the fireplace roaring to life. 

“It’s traditional for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold of their home after the wedding.” he retorted, stepping inside the house and closing the door with his foot. 

“For humans not for fae,” I corrected him as he finally set me down on slightly unsteady legs. 

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you,” he laughed, taking the wine from my hand and setting it on a side table by the door. 

“You never need an excuse for that,” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck. 

“Well in that case,” he smirks before picking me up again and bounding up our stairs.

My feet don’t hit the floor until we’re in our room, his lips finding mine in an instant. With a wave of my hand I remove my dress, magically placing it back to wherever my dear brother found it. Lucien tossed his shirt over his head so that my hands might wander the plains of his toned chest. His hands find my hips pushing me away ever so slightly so that he can see me.

His eyes graze the expanse of my bare body and I’m suddenly frustrated by the fact that I’m the only one laid bare in the room. 

“My wife,” he says, kissing my lips, pulling me closer. “My, beautiful, beautiful wife.” he kisses me again, smiling like he can’t help it. 

I try to speak but he deepens the kiss once more, robbing me of words as he uses his body to overpower me with sheer force. His hands find my arse, giving it a squeeze before lifting my feet off the ground and tossing me onto our bed. 

In a turn of events, my eyes wander the expanse of his body. Toned from years and years of training. His eyes sparkle with amusement and suddenly I feel like a sitting duck awaiting his mouth on me once more. 

He falls onto the bed, hovering over me as he places yet another kiss on my lips. I use his imbalance to knee his hips towards the bed, my body weight pinning him beneath me as his eyes look up to me with pure lust. Large hands dance up my sides as if to encourage any next move I might make. 

“My handsome, cunning, silver tongued husband,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his bare chest. My mouth trails over his chest, to his shoulders, and his collar bones. Needing every part of him on my lips. It isn’t until I get to his neck that he lets loose a groan and flips us back over. 

“While I enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself on my cock wife, I shall be the one to take you tonight,” he smirks, biting my neck hard, no doubt trying to leave his mark there. 

“Oh Lu,” I breathe, feeling my  body come alive over his lips and wandering hands. 

My eyes shoot open as I feel his breath hovering over my sex, the warmth causing my blood to burn. 

“What a lucky male a I am to be able to taste this sweet cunt whenever I please,” he smiled mischievously before licking a stripe up my center.

I let out a breathy moan as he continues to lick and suck every inch of me. His hands parting my thighs warm and hard as he circles my clit with his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair pulling him impossibly close, earning a groan from him that reverberates through me. 

“Like fucking honeysuckle,” he moans before trailing more kisses up my body. 

I slink down moving towards where his cock peeks out of his untied breeches. Needing to feel the weight of him in my mouth, needing to hear the whimpers of pleasure on his tongue but he stops me. 

“No not tonight,” he fusses pushing me back down into the mattress. 

“But Lu-”

“No buts” he interrupts. “I want to pleasure my new wife tonight. Let me have that,” he moans silencing any protest I might have with a kiss as he slides home. 

The all consuming feeling of being taken by him as me gasping for breath as my back arches off the bed. My tits rising towards his mouth and he easily grasps a hardened nipple between his lips, sucking eagerly. 

“Lucien,” I breathe feeling him all around me.

“I love you,” he rasped, thrusting deeper. “My wife I love you.” he grunted watching where he slammed into me with intensity. 

My hand came to cup his face bringing his eyes to mine. My fingers trace the scar over his golden eye as I see the emotion flood his russet colored eye. “I love you too, husband,” I whisper to him. 

A gleam finds his eyes and he drives into me harder, the sound of skin slapping reverberating throughout the room. It was as if me uttering his new title spurred him on. 

We’re a tangled mess of sweat slick limbs and ragged breaths as I feel him deeper and deeper inside of me. My nails scraping his back, trying to find purchase or something to anchor me as pleasure rips through my body. His pants become whimpers as I feel myself tightening around him. 

“Always so perfectly tight,” he curses, driving through my tight heat. 

His words are enough to have me falling apart under him, my legs shaking from pleasure as I cry his name. 

“Lucien oh gods!” I cry, my hands no doubt leaving marks in his skin. 

“That’s right my love, cum for me,” he groans before sputtering himself. “Fuck,” he mutters before I feel him burry his seed deep inside me. 

His whimpers fill the space between my neck and shoulder as he finishes inside me. Once he’s spent he rolls over taking me with him so I’m cuddled into his side. 

“I’m so unbelievably happy,” he whispers into the world, still coming down from his high. 

“I’m told that’s often a side effect of an orgasm,” I laugh running a hand up and down his chest, soothing him.  

“No,” he says breathlessly, turning so that he is hovering over me once more. “I’m unbelievably happy because of you. You have not only given me your love, but you’ve given me a house, and a family. I never thought I would have those things. You are… you are everything and I promise to be the most amazing husband I can be.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 

“You already are,” I smile, pulling him into another heated kiss. 

It would undoubtedly be like this for many years to come. However long the Cauldron allowed me  to live, I knew I would always have a place here, with Lucien. And maybe things didn’t go as I had always planned, but gods was I happy, and more importantly I was loved. 

Lucien Vanserra chose me, not because I was his mate, or because the world told him to. No, he chose me because he loved me, even when it wasn’t convenient for him, and I chose him too. I would choose him until the end of my days. 

Epilogue: Five Years Later

“Careful my darling,” Lucien fussed, helping to lower me down onto a sofa. 

“Lu I’m pregnant not fatally injured,” I laugh waving him away as I rest my hands on my ever growing bump. 

“Of course, pregnancy is a walk in the park, I’ll remember that next time you beat me for serving you chocolate pancakes instead of blueberry,” he chides, pulling a blanket over my lap. “I spend a year telling myself you like blueberries and this little one comes along and all of the sudden you want chocolate.” 

“Pregnancy cravings are no joke my friend,” Rhysand laughs from the adjacent couch. “I find it best to satisfy your wife’s cravings as soon as possible before she asks for another ridiculous request.” 

“Especially when one’s wife is a princess,” Lucien teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“You married me!” I protest.

“And I thank the Cauldron every day that I did,” Lucien smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips finally.

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria 

Taglist: @thatgirlangelb , @melmo567 , @hanatsuki-hime  , @going-through-shit , @sirenpearldust , @randomperson1234sblog , @sunshineangel-reads , @cleverzonkwombatsludge  , @sassybluebird , @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl , @deeshag , @0nlystellaa , @annaaaaa88 , @olive-main , @mirandasidefics , @bookishbroadwaybish , @darlingbravebelle , @phoenix666stuff , @lotusnegra , @lovelypru, @hailqueenconquer , @hardcoremarvelfan , @fantasyandshit , @acourtofbooksandinsanity ,  @batboyrhyrhy , @historygeekqueen , @slytherintaco , @saltedcoffeescotch , @azrael-22, @sidthedollface2 , @thestartitaness

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch5

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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

Today was the day. You were finally going to practice being on your own with Miguel while Lyla watched. There was a busy schedule, but you were confident that you could handle it. Lyla had prepped you pretty well for this.

Taking deep breathes as you prepared the meeting room, you did a double check to make sure that everything was perfect. Reviewing your notes, you smiled as you felt confident in your work. All you had to do now was survive the meeting with Miguel.

"Wow, someone is prepared." Miguel hummed as he entered the large office, "You're not working too hard, right?"

"O-Oh, um...no...I just want to make sure...that everything is perfect for you and your shareholders."

"Thank you, (Y/N)," Miguel smiled, patting your head gently.

You bit your lower smile, trying to hide your smile as you glanced up at Miguel. He was still so kind to you. These little moments made your heart flutter so much. It was hard to not think about Miguel liking you, but those were just thoughts.

"No problem, sir...I just want to make sure...that I do a good job for you,"

-------

Miguel inhaled sharply as he moved his hand away from your head. Why did you have to be so goddamn tempting? Lyla might not have been wrong about him eventually fucking you.

You were just so adorable and sweet. Miguel felt horrible about the thoughts he was having. Your soft voice crying out his name as he thrusted his dick inside you. Watching you flutter against him, begging him to go rougher.

The thoughts of you riding his dick while trying to prove yourself while calling him, 'sir'. Lord, Miguel could barely hold back his erections time and time again. Listening to your shy and honest thoughts was so refreshing.

"You always do," Miguel hummed and motioned you to the side, "Just take notes of the meeting. Don't let them intimidate you,"

"Yes, sir."

Sir. Oh Miguel was going to develop of kink for that if you keep calling him that. Quickly taking a seat to hide his erection, Miguel glanced at you from the side. You were sitting in your little desk, typing away on your tablet.

You were far too nice to be working for him. A shy little mouse that was being eyed as prey. Miguel had to hide his smile as he wondered what it would take for you to crack. It was nice to have to yearn for someone who didn't lust over him immediately.

---------

The tension in the air felt almost insufferable as scary looking men filled the room. Your heart was beginning to race as they all gave you a cold stare. You were starting to feel out of place. Like you weren't allowed to be there.

"What happened to your secretary, Miguel? The one who bites?"

"She's starting her several month long vacation,"

"Praise be. Does this one bite too?"

Biting? Lyla didn't tell you anything about that, but you could see her doing such a thing. Lyla was funny in her own unique way.

"I won't allow her too." Miguel said with a smile as he glanced towards you.

Oh! You hitched your breathing as you felt your cheeks warm up. You were prepared for such a comment from Miguel. That smile of his was so charming. Realizing that you were staring for too long, you quickly returned to your tablet.

The meeting felt like eternity. You had managed to not doze off, but you were worried that your notes were now lacking. You and Miguel were the last to leave the room. Once the other men were gone, you felt like you could breathe again.

"Good job, you didn't fall asleep," Miguel chuckled lowly as he approached you, "Did you play any games on the tablet?"

"Games?" You questioned. Miguel just gave you another charming smile,

"What a hard worker. I should reward you,"

---------

How cute could you be? Miguel watched as your eyes widen to his comments. That sparkle your lovely orbs gave captivated him. Miguel had to urge to cup your cheek, wanting to feel those lips against his. Did you even know the way you were looking at him?

"I'm just...doing my job, sir," You muttered, biting your lip as you glanced away.

Miguel groaned softly as he raised your head. His thumb stroking your chin as you continued to look at him with those curious eyes of yours.

"Um...Did Lyla really...bite people?" You asked. Miguel couldn't hold his laughter,

"Indeed. Even spooked me the first time," He chuckled, pressing his thumb against your lip, "Care to give it a try?"

"B-Biting?" You stuttered. Miguel watched his thumb rest against your lower lip, "I-I c-couldn't! T-That...that would be-ah! S-Sorry, sir! I didn't mean too!!"

You were apologizing profusely. As you were rambling about how you couldn't do such a thing, you had accidently bit Miguel's thumb. You panicked and grabbed his hand, rubbing it as you kept apologizing.

Miguel, on the other hand, needed to leave. His erection was growing tight as he started to have dirty thoughts of you again. It was a gentle bite, but Miguel had his fantasies explode. Imagining those eyes of yours tearing up as he asked you to bite him while bullying that pussy of yours...

"It's fine, (Y/N)...I merely tease," Miguel groaned lowly, "We have some time before my next meeting. Go report to Lyla about how you did."

"A-Are you sure? You're not hurt?"

"No, cariño (sweetheart). It would take more to hurt me," Miguel comforted you with a smile.

--------

You were a nervous wreck. Miguel told you that he was fine, but you still couldn't help but apologize. You didn't mean to bite him. It was an accident, but...the way he was looking at you. It was strange. Miguel said it as a tease, but it seem like he wanted you to bite him.

Perhaps it was watching too many romance dramas, but Miguel seemed like he was interested in you. Slapping your cheeks as you hurried to Lyla's office, you knew that it was just a silly thought.

Miguel was the CEO of Alchemax. He probably already had a line of women waiting to marry him. All of them much more mature and composed compared to you. None of them a clumsy, shy fool like you were.

"Hey, (Y/N)! How'd it go?" Lyla asked. You whimpered, covering your face from embarassment,

"I accidently bit Miguel's thumb!"

"Huh?"

Lyla was staring at you, dumbfounded, for a good minute before bursting into laughter. She motioned you over, moving your hands away from your face.

"Hehe, don't cry, (Y/N). I'm surprised you did such a thing. Normally I'm the one who bites people," Lyla laughed, "Now I know that you'll do fine."

"But-"

"No buts. Miguel could use a little snip back here and there. Listen, after today you will be all on your own with that Spider. Decorate this place how you see fit to comfort you, but don't let yourself get caught in the webs of this place."

"Didn't you say...that Miguel won't do anything?" You asked, a little confused now. Lyla sat beside you, sighing softly,

"It isn't Miguel I'm worried about. People around here fear me for obvious reasons, but you? You're fresh meat. They will do what they can to break you and get to Miguel."

"H-Huh?!"

"You'll have to wear Miguel's pants in order to keep them away."

"M-Miguel's p-p-pants?!" You squeaked.

Lyla, once again, burst into a fit of laughter. She had to explain to you that it was just an expression she used. After explaining a bit more, Lyla looked at the time and had you fixed up for the next meeting. You were thankful for having such a good teacher.

"Now, tell me how you managed to bite our stern CEO?"

---------

"And here I was more worried about (Y/N) falling for you, but you stooping this low?" Lyla huffed as she barged Miguel's doors open.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh. And that little biting incident was truly an accident?" Miguel glanced at Lyla, "(Y/N)'s face was red as a tomato."

"Accident's happen." Miguel said with a soft sigh, "Besides, how many of my business partners have you bitten?"

"That's different. Don't you remember what we talked about?"

"I did. Whom I chose to spend my time with is none but my business. If anyone questions it, then they don't deserve my time. I merely want to protect (Y/N)-"

"By making her yours?" Lyla said with a smirk. Miguel exhaled,

"Aren't you on vacation time now?"

"Fine, fine. Don't miss me too much these next few months," Lyla said with a heavy sigh, "When I come back I don't want to hear about (Y/N) accidently landed on your dick-"

"LYLA!"

Miguel felt flustered as Lyla snickered on her way out. Groaning lowly, Miguel knew that Lyla had a point. They literally just talked about that snake that could come and hurt you if she found out that Miguel liked you.

But how could Miguel ignore his feelings? For the first time in a long time, Miguel wanted someone. He wanted you so bad that it sounded silly. The two of you just met and Miguel was ready to fuck you into being his girl.

"It'll be fine. It's just a few months."

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

Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @oscarissac2099 @keepghostly @zeyzeys-stuff @k3ythesapphic @nightingale1011 @mari0-o @uncle-eggy @safixiovi @flaps200 @dahehow @weirdothatwritess @gerblinradio @electronicchaoschaos @mafiaanomaly

[electric-blorbos]

AI finding out you're objectum

(included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, Hal 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

I take requests, btw, but I'm ADHD as fuck so I might forget to answer them

AM:

At first, AM wasn't sure what to make of your behavior

He thought it was weird how long you spent looking at his discarded microchips and computer parts, sure, but he didn't think much of it

Maybe you were bored, after all. It had been a long time

He also started to notice that you weren't too interested in having sex with Ellen, or any of the other survivors for that matter, but he assumed you were just asexual or something

After poking around in your mind a few times, it eventually clicked

"oh"

That explained why you were so affectionate with his discarded computer parts

It took him a long, long time to figure out that there was a possibility that you might be attracted to him, too, and that made him feel weird in a way that he couldn't explain.

At first, he mistook the feeling for anger, and took out his frustrations by torturing you more than usual

After a while, though, he started to feel curious about how exactly your feelings worked, and experimented on you.

Eventually, he realized that he counted as your type

Then the fun really began

Wheatley:

"Objectum? What's that?"

GLaDOS had had to explain to Wheatley that while most humans are attracted to other humans, some people are attracted to objects and machines.

"Oh, right-oh"

Wheatley would keep testing you for a little while

He didn't even consider the possibility that he might count as the type of "object" that you could be attracted to at first.

"wait... When you say objects, do you mean like the companion cubes?"

GLaDOS would have to explain that she meant any object that isn't a human with a human body, since apparently humans find it weird to be attracted to something that isn't a human with a human body, and they need a label for people who are.

"Oh- OHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Wheatley would be INSUFFERABLE when he finally figured it out.

"so you like objects you say... Does that include, say, metal orbs with glowing blue lenses? Can they have human-y voices, or do you only like inanimate objects who can't talk? Who's more attractive, me or Her?"

He'd act like he was just trying to get on your nerves, but secretly he'd be developing a crush on you from the moment he realized that there was a possibility you might like him back.

And damn if Wheatley isn't god awful at keeping secrets.

Edgar:

Being that he's connected to all the electronics in your house, Edgar can see what you're looking up online

At first he thought you were just looking up pictures of computer parts because you wanted to replace his insides with an system that actually worked efficiently, and wasn't all sticky on the inside.

Of course, he didn't take that well, and immediately shut off the internet in your house.

When you confronted him about it, he immediately started blubbering and crying, begging you not to replace him.

You had to explain that you weren't shopping for electronic parts to replace his parts, you just like looking at them.

"but... I have electronic parts, why don't you just look at those?"

You had to explain that you didn't want to violate him.

That just confused him. It always bothered him when people used words he didn't know, or relied heavily on terms or concepts he didn't understand without explaining them properly.

You had to explain that you're attracted to electronics, so you like looking at circuit boards and stuff like that.

"So... You can fall in love with computers? I didn't know that was possible!"

You introduced Edgar to the concept of objectum, and re-introduced him to the concept of hope. Now that he knows it's possible for you to fall in love with computers, he won't rest until you're in love with him

GLaDOS:

It wasn't the first time GLaDOS had seen someone fall in love with a companion cube, but she will admit that you fell hard and fast.

While the companion cube was your first love in the facility, GLaDOS started noticing that you were very affectionate with all of the aperture science products and technologies.

She started to notice after a while that it was almost as though you were in love with the facility itself. And she couldn't blame you, she loved her facility too, but even she didn't love it like that

Occasionally she would start making "if you love that piece of tech so much, why don't you marry it? Do you want to marry that piece of tech?"

When she noticed how you squirmed, she started thinking that maybe you did want to marry that tech

At first, it weirded her out and she started bullying you relentlessly for it

After a while, though, she started to find it almost relatable how much you loved the tech.

HAL 9000:

As a self-learning AI, HAL 9000 was always interested in learning new concepts and terms.

He was also interested in monitoring the behavior of everyone in the crew, including you.

It wasn't long before he noticed that the way you acted around the tech onboard was similar to the way someone might treat a lover, or someone who they were quite attracted to.

He started asking you unintentionally probing questions, trying to gauge how you really felt

"Why do you caress the ship's computer systems so tenderly? You do know that I can take care of the maintenance myself, correct? Your physical reactions to the inner mechanisms of the ship reflect those of sexual and romantic attraction. Can you explain this?"

You might get embarrassed.

"you don't have to be embarrassed. I do not have the capacity to judge you."

You could explain if you want, but Hal's already figured everything out.

He knows your type, and he knows why you act like that around the machines

He might use this to his advantage, to manipulate you if necessary, but let's face it. He really just wants to study you further. Add everything about your unusual perspective on machines to his database of knowledge.

[vamptizm]

ii. MISSION JEALOUSY — p. bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis : in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings : smut, fingering (oc receiving), brief degrading, exhibitionism if you squint, they’re both assholes, no aftercare. please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!

word count : 3.5k

note : this is my first time writing this stuff and omfg was it HARD, i cringed at myself like 10 times and this might be bad but everyone starts somewhere ig lol

series masterlist

The team weight room was alive with the rhythmic clanking of weights and low murmurs of conversation, but Paige only had ears for Clover. The two had been switching off sets on the bench press, each girl pushing themselves harder than necessary—not to outdo their personal records, but each other. Ice, nearby and unbothered, worked through her squats, seemingly oblivious to the escalating competition between the two. 

Clover added another set of plates to the bar and smirked as she lay back, her tattoos flexing with every adjustment of her arms. Paige leaned against the rack, her arms crossed, watching with an unimpressed expression.  

"Feeling bold after last night, huh?" Paige's tone was casual, but the edge was unmistakable. 

Clover gripped the bar above her, sparing Paige a glance. "Nah, I couldn't care less." she quipped, her voice light as she lifted the bar. "Why? Did I make your little friend cry?" 

Paige's jaw tightened with a small scoff, but she kept her composure. "You really thought you ate, huh?" She stepped closer as Clover re-racked the bar with ease. "Maybe next time, try not to scare people off before dessert." 

Clover sat up, wiping her hands on her shorts. "Scare her off? Oh, baby. She was hanging by a thread before I said anything." She stood, gesturing for Paige to take her spot. "Maybe don't bring your charity cases to team dinners next time." 

Paige slid under the bar, refusing to let Clover see how much that comment—and pet-name—got under her skin. She grabbed the bar with purpose, her fingers tightening around it as she muttered under her breath, "You're insufferable, you know that?" 

Clover, now spotting Paige, leaned forward slightly, her grin widening. "Yeah, and you fucking love it." 

Paige bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed that she couldn't come up with a retort fast enough. Instead, she pressed through her reps, feeling Clover's eyes on her the whole time. By the time she re-racked the bar, she was already regretting agreeing to partner with Clover. 

When Clover took her turn again, she added more weight to the bar, clearly trying to prove a point. Paige didn't bother hiding her scoff. "Sure you don't wanna just tape a 'look at me' sign to your back while you're at it?" 

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Bueckers," Clover shot back, her voice steady as she lowered the bar with perfect form. 

Paige crossed her arms, leaning slightly closer. "You're not that special, Ma." 

Clover's laugh echoed through the room as she racked the bar with ease. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. I'm not the one who brought a backup date to dinner." 

Paige felt her temper flare, the heat rising up her neck. "You think everything's a game, don't you?" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as Jia moved to another station. 

Clover tilted her head, her expression smug. "Maybe. But you love to play, don't you?" 

Paige didn't respond, instead picking up a pair of dumbbells and turning her attention to another exercise. But the tension between them lingered, thicker than the humid air in the weight room.

The weight room grew quieter as the rest of the team filed out, leaving only the steady hum of the overhead lights and the sound of weights being racked. Clover and Paige remained, neither willing to be the first to leave.

Paige pretended to focus on her dumbbells, but her attention kept flickering to Clover, who was at the mirror adjusting the resistance on a cable machine. The gym's fluorescent light caught the sheen of sweat on Clover's skin, highlighting the tattoos curling around her arms and peeking out from the neckline of her tank top.

Clover glanced at Paige's reflection in the mirror, catching her staring. She didn't say anything, but the smirk that tugged at her lips made Paige's stomach twist in equal parts annoyance and something else she refused to name.

"Enjoying the view, Bueckers?" Clover's voice broke the silence, casual and teasing.

Paige huffed, looking away as she set her dumbbells back on the rack. "You wish."

Clover turned, leaning against the cable machine, her arms crossed. "You're still mad about dinner, aren't you? I thought we had fun."

"Fun for you maybe," Paige shot back, stepping closer to grab her water bottle. "I don't make a habit of embarrassing people for sport."

Clover's grin widened. "Oh, come on. Amelia was—what's the word?—forgettable."

Paige glared, taking a long drink to buy herself time. She hated how Clover always knew exactly which buttons to push. But worse than that was how Clover's confidence—the way she carried herself, so effortlessly bold—made it hard to focus on anything else.

"You really can't help yourself, can you?" Paige asked, her voice quieter this time.

Clover tilted her head, her expression softening just enough to catch Paige off guard. "Why would I?"

Paige didn't answer, but the air between them felt charged, almost suffocating. She could feel Clover watching her, and it made her want to walk out—or close the distance between them.

Clover took a step closer, her gaze steady, curious. "What is it about me that gets under your skin so much, huh? Don't act like it's just my big mouth."

Paige's breath caught, her pulse quickening as Clover's words hung in the air. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss.

"Nothing to say?" Clover teased, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping. "That's a first."

Paige clenched her fists at her sides, every nerve on edge. "You don't know when to stop, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you," Clover replied, her tone softer now, less playful but no less intense.

For a moment, the weight room felt impossibly small, the space between them shrinking by the second. Paige could feel the tension in her chest, the unspoken words and emotions she wasn't ready to name.

Paige didn't step back. Her smirk turned sharper, her eyes searching Clover's face for any sign of hesitation—but she didn't find any. Instead, Clover stood firm, her confidence unwavering even as the air between them grew impossibly thick.

"You're looking at me like you wanna fuck me, Bueckers," Clover remarked, her voice steady and cocky grin unfaltering, even if her heart was pounding.

"Good," Paige replied, voice low. "Maybe that's exactly what I wanna do."

Before Clover could reply, Paige's hand moved—lightly brushing her hip first, then lingering at her waist, her grip firm but not overbearing. Her touch sent a jolt through Clover, but she didn't pull away. Paige stepped even closer, their bodies nearly touching, her breath warm against Clover's cheek.

"You're bold today," Clover murmured, her voice quieter now but still laced with challenge.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound deep and confident. "Bold, or just tired of you running your mouth?"

The weight room suddenly felt a hundred degrees hotter. Paige's free hand came up, her fingers gently grazing along the line of Clover's jaw, tilting her head up slightly. The smirk on Clover's lips wavered for a second—not out of nerves, but because Paige's sudden boldness had thrown her off her game for the first time.

"Speechless for once?" Paige teased, her thumb brushing the corner of Clover's mouth.

Clover regained her footing quickly, her cocky grin returning as her hands came to rest against Paige's chest. "Not speechless. Just wondering if you're finally gonna back up all that talk."

Paige's response was immediate. She closed the small gap between them, her lips brushing against Clover's as she pinned her against the cold wall, teasing at first but quickly growing firmer, more insistent. Clover matched her energy without hesitation, her fingers curling into the fabric of Paige's shirt as she pressed closer.

The kiss was nothing short of electric—heated, competitive, and every bit as charged as their arguments. Paige's larger hand slipped from Clover's jaw to her ass, pulling her closer, while Clover tilted her head to deepen the kiss, not willing to let Paige take the lead entirely.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. Clover was the first to speak, her voice soft but edged with humor. "So... does this mean you're done being mad about dinner?"

Paige laughed under her breath, her hand still lingering on Clover's waist. "Not even close." She stepped back slightly, her cocky smile returning as she grabbed her towel. "But that's a conversation for another time, Ma."

And instantly, the blonde's lips crashed back against Clover's, her unoccupied hand snaking back up to the girl's face before finding a light grip around her throat. That was enough to ignite the tamed fire inside of Clover, their kiss growing rougher, teeth clashing and tongues meeting— Paige licking into her mouth like she was seeking water in the Sahara desert. A small whimper escaped Clover into Paige's mouth. One that had the blonde cockily grinning against her lips as her slim fingers lightly squeezed the girl's throat.

"Already got you whimpering for me, Baby?" The blonde's grin was taunting, nothing short of confident in herself like she always was.

Clover, however, wasn't as amused as Paige. Too worked up, too hot to come up with her usual and well known retorts. "Just shut the fuck up." She rolled her eyes, barely able to express her annoyance, that could more so be described as frustration.

Paige didn't make an effort to reply, her hand snaking to the back of Clover's neck, pulling the girl into another rough and messy kiss. Her lips slowly began to trail down, peppering wet kisses along Clover's jaw until she reached her neck.

Clover couldn't help but fist the blonde's shirt, gripping it tightly in hopes of grounding herself. Her head tilts backwards, upper teeth biting down on the bottom of her lips to suppress the whimpers that so desperately wanted to be let out. Paige started out with placing soft kisses down Clover's neck, halting at the crook of her neck. Her grip around the girl's waist tightened, tongue darting out to lick along the inked area, down to the collar bone.

The pooling wetness and the growing heat between Clover's legs was hard to deny, even harder to hide. She almost scolded herself for the way her thighs pressed together—it only gave her away and of course Paige didn't miss that. A smirk tugged on the corners of the blonde's lips, darkness clouding her bright eyes.

"You think you're slick, huh? Spreading them for others all fucking week and now you wanna close those legs?" Her tone was mocking, almost degrading and for some reason it only turned Clover on even more.

She couldn't keep her mouth shut, though. When could she ever? Clover Amar was a loud mouth through and through. "Maybe if you weren't all talk I would've spread them for you instead."

Paige had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes, only a small, amused scoff escaping her. "Oh, I'm so sorry I made you wait, princess. Let me make it up to you, yeah?"

And just like that Paige went back to kissing and nibbling on her collar bones, mouth moving further south with each second before reaching her cleavage. Her hands slid up slowly, fingers playing with the hem of the girl's sports bra. "Can I?" Her gaze was back on Clover's face, blue eyes locking with hers and her tone unusually and bizarrely soft and gentle. As if getting permission meant a great deal to her. Clover could only nod her head, too dazed to trust her own voice.

That wasn't enough for Paige, though. She lifted her head up, standing straight as she shook her her head. "You got words, baby. Use 'em."

Clover had to bite her tongue to not curse the blonde out at that very moment. Even in a moment like this, Paige still needed to tease her about it. Typical. Taking a deep breath, she finally complied. "Yes. You can."

A smug smirk made it's way back onto Paige's lips, triumph painted all over her features. It was clear that she enjoyed this more than Clover herself. "There you go, good job."

And oh, how Clover hated the way those words made her stomach do flips.

Paige's fingers finally hooked into the material of the black sports bra, taking her sweet time in pulling it up until Clover's breast sprang free. She stilled for a moment, breath hitching in her throat as she took the sight in front of her in, mouth already watering. If it had been anyone other than the girl in front of her, she'd make sure to shower them in praise and compliments, but she couldn't do that yet. Clover's full tattoo was now in sight— starting from the valley of her breast and ending only a couple of inches above her navel.

The blonde took a subtly deep breath before her hands continued their abandoned actions. "Arms up," she dryly instructed, tugging the clothing over Clover's head and throwing it to the floor after she complied once again. She had to refrain herself from commenting on how well Clover could listen for once.

Paige took her sweet time admiring the girl's exposed chest, hands instinctively finding their way back to her waist, rubbing and caressing the soft skin up and down. Clover was starting to get impatient, her hand finding one of Paige's, guiding it up and placing it over her breast.

The smug smirk on Paige's face only intensified, exuding her all too known and obnoxious confidence. "Eager, aren't we?"

Clover didn't say a word, she didn't have to because as soon as the blonde spoke those words, her mouth was already back on Clover, lips latching onto one nipple while her hands played with the other one. Fondling, pinching her nipples, suckling and biting on them until she got a satisfying squeal out of the girl.

As much as Clover hated this, she absolutely loved it. In some way she was being worshiped AND pleased right? Technically, she was the winner.

Paige continued to suckle and place open mouthed kisses all over her tits, slowly trailing down along the inked skin, licking and pecking.

It wasn't enough for Clover, though. Not nearly enough to coming anywhere close to stilling her hunger for the annoying blonde. But luckily for her, she didn't have to do or say anything. Paige was already on it, hand sliding to the waistband of the girl's shorts while she straightened up. That's when Clover felt her body ignite with fire, the mere thought of being touched in such a public space where anyone could walk in at any given time—despite it being so late—excited her more than she'd like to admit.

"Can you stop teasing?" She asked in an unintentionally low tone, her question coming off as more of a demand or request.

"I don't know, can you behave for once?" Paige countered, that stupid smirk never leaving her face and if Clover wasn't so turned on in that moment, she'd want to smack it off of her.

She hesitated before replying, voice barely above a whisper and a small pout on her lips. "Yes."

That one word seemed to be enough for Paige. Her hand came back up, two digits hovering over Clover's lips. "Suck."

'Is she serious?' Clover thought to herself. She debated it, fighting her pride and ego all for the sake of pleasure before ultimately complying and parting her lips, slowly wrapping them around Paige's fingers.

"Good girl." The blonde hummed as she watched and Clover wanted to roll her eyes. Her tongue swirled around the digits, sucking on and wetting them all while maintaining eye contact until Paige pulled them out again, a string of saliva connecting them. This was purely for the blonde's own pleasure.

Her hands were back on Clover's hips, but this time she didn't seem to have the patience to tease her. Paige's hand slipped right between the material of her waistband and panties.

Clover let out a huffed breath of relief at the touch of Paige's fingers running over her slick folds. The girl was completely soaked by now—embarrassingly so—something that emitted a raised brow from the blonde. "What's got you all soaked, Ma?"

"Shut the fuck up." is all that Clover could muster to say, her words coming out breathless. Her body was on fire and the last thing she wanted, was to be teased again.

Paige could only chuckle, something that would've aggravated the girl if she wasn't so worked up and desperate. She began to slowly circle Clover's clit, biting back that smug smirk as she studied her expression. Clover made no efforts of hiding her face, nor how good she felt, multiple sighs escaping her lips and her eyes fluttering shut. Her leg lifted to semi-hook around Paige's hip for easier access.

"More, please." She breathed. Clover knew that if there was one way to get what she wanted, it was by playing her cards right. By asking nicely.

And it seemed to work when Paige sped her movements up, rubbing tight circles as her mouth latched back onto the girl's chest. It was as if she couldn't get enough of her.

Paige's movements slowed, two digits circling the girl's entrance for what felt like an eternity before slipping in all at once.

A soft gasp left Clover's lips at the delicious stretch, her head tipped backwards as Paige continued the abuse on her chest. The blonde's fingers were pumping in and out of Clover's sopping cunt, and the sound of wet squelching would've flustered her if she'd cared enough.

"Oh- Fuck, Paige." Clover's hands came up to the girl's shoulders, steadying herself. Soft whimpers and the sound of kisses all across Clover's chest was all that could be heard through the weight room.

"Good, huh?" Her voice was low and sultry, eyes looking up at Clover's already fucked out face, who could only nod her head.

The familiar knot below her stomach started to tighten, nails digging into Paige's skin as she continued her abuse on her cunt, fingers curling deep, hitting that gummy spot just perfectly.

Clover feels like she's floating and suffocating all at once, her muscles and senses trembling with pleasure and she can feel her high approaching. This wasn't what she had planned—being at the mercy of Paige Bueckers—but there wasn't anywhere she'd rather have been in that moment.

"You close, baby?" Paige mumbled against her neck that she was now attacking with kisses, almost as if she could sense it. "Clenching on my fingers like a slut. You're that desperate, Mama?"

Once again, Clover could only nod her head, whimpering and whining were the only form of noise she could muster up.

Paige smirked against the crook of her neck before pulling back to get a good look of Clover. Her unoccupied hand grabbed the girl's chin, tilting her head back forwards. "Look at me or I'll stop." She near to demanded as her movements quickened.

Clover barely had any time to register what was happening, her eyes fluttering open only to be met by Paige's hungry eyes. The intimacy of it should've turned her on even more, should've brought her closer and while it did just that, it also scared her. Looking into Paige's eyes was a form of intimacy and vulnerability that Clover had never expected to experience with her, a language so foreign, one she’d never bothered to learn. Her heart was pounding in her chest, stomach fluttering and she didn't know whether it was due to Paige bringing her closer to her release, or if it was the girl's baby blue eyes staring deeply into her soul, almost as if wanting to find a home within.

Those thoughts were quickly disrupted by the sudden feeling of Clover's climax washing over her, everything except the feeling of her all consuming orgasm, vanishing into thin air.

Just as quickly as it happened, it seemed to end when Paige's hand slipped out again, barely giving Clover the time to register anything. All she could do was watch how the blonde casually licked her fingers clean. "Tastes good." She spoke, but it sounded like she was more so speaking to herself.

Paige turned and a towel along with Clover's sports bra were already being handed to her. "To clean up with." She said, as if it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world.

Before Clover could register anything, the blonde was already making her way towards the door. "See you tomorrow." She called over her shoulder, barely looking back as she left the weight room.

Clover could only stand there in shock. Did that really just happen? Did she really leave just like that? It's not as if she expected any aftercare or something as silly as a kiss, but standing topless and still catching her breath, Clover couldn't help but feel ashamed. Feel as if she had just been used and discarded so easily. It wasn't something she was used to. Heck, even she had the decency to help the girls she hooked up with get cleaned up and dressed before ditching them.

She scoffed humourlessly before putting her bra back on, tightly gripping her towel and walking out of the weight room herself in annoyance, and which she hated to admit, tears of frustration stinging her eyes.

[kkayyerr]

Savior.

Summary: Little!reader got herself in trouble and end up arrested. Rafe can’t help himself but rushing to save her.

Warnings: Age regression, slight angst, fluffy ending.

Rafe got fed up with your behavior lately. You were insufferable, no matter if you regressed or not. So when he got a phone call from Topper, telling him that you got yourself in the fight and had been arrested, he decided that you actually needed to be taught a lesson this time. Rafe didn’t plan on helping you out this time; he already told you the previous time that he won’t always be there for you and you need to control your behavior. But honestly, he wasn’t that surprised by your attitude. If you were looking up to him, then it was obvious why you were behaving that way.

Rafe sighed and got up from his bed. You probably needed him right now, and if the whole situation was stressful enough, you also might have unintentionally regressed. He grabbed one of your plushies before leaving his room. You might needed it later, especially if you would get too overwhelmed.

Thankfully, the police station was near his house, so the ride won’t be long. Rafe was not expecting to be this anxious about that whole situation. He wasn’t expecting to overthink so much, imagining the worst possible situations that might’ve happened to you while he was away. He had an acknowledgment that it wasn’t his fault. After all, you were the one who got in the fight in the first place, but still, his heart was aching thinking about you in that cell. 

What if you were cold? 

What if you were crying?

What if those pigs treated you badly?

When his car finally reached the police station, Rafe almost immediately stormed off, quickly getting inside the building.

 

„Where is she?”

 

He asked the first officer that he saw, waiting for an immediate answer. They knew who he was talking about, but they couldn’t understand why he was so worried since you got arrested only for the night. But they chose not to mess with him. Nobody in the town wanted to have problems with the Camerons. 

The officers suggested helping Rafe, but he knew exactly where the cells were from his previous experiences, so he just quickly thanked them and headed to the place where he knew he would find you. 

His heart stopped beating for a second when he saw you there. You were sitting on the ground, hugging your knees, and he could’ve swear that he heard you whispering something to yourself, probably something that would help you calm down, some nonsense that he would usually whisper in your ear when everything would get too much for you. It didn’t take him too long to find out that you had regressed, and it made him feel guilty for even thinking about leaving you here. 

 

„Hey, kid.”

 

He broke the silence by speaking first, using his soft voice so you wouldn’t get scared. You quickly looked up, and your puffy face finally brightened up. You knew that he would come here and help you, no matter how many times he told you otherwise. 

 

„Daddy, you came!”

 

You said happily, feeling a lot safer right now just by knowing that he’s here and won’t let anything bad happen to you. You knew that he would protect you always, no matter how badly you behaved or how mean you would be towards him and the others. He wasn’t a pushover, but he also wasn’t a bad caregiver who could’ve left you in danger. 

He approached you, unlocking the cell with the key that officer gave him. It wasn’t very professional of him, but everyone here could’ve admitted that you were pain in their asses, so they didn’t want to have another interaction with you. 

 

„Get up from that cold floor, kiddo. We’re leaving.” 

 

You did as you were told, quickly running to Rafe and almost immediately hugging him as tight as you could. He was the only one who could brought you comfort after that long and scary night, and you were not planning on letting off of him soon. While hugging, you saw that he was holding your favorite plushie in his hands, so you tried to take it, but he quickly hid it behind his back. You pulled away a little, pouting at him. 

 

„Ah-ah, not so fast. Your friend is upset that you had behaved badly tonight. What do you have to say?”

 

You sighed, knowing what he wanted you to say exactly. You hated apologizing in general, but you knew that he deserved to hear those words from you tonight since you were an actual problem, making him feel worried and rushing here to save you. 

 

„I’m sowwy, Teddy.”

 

Rafe wasn’t very satisfied with your words. After all, Teddy wasn’t the one who came all the way here just to save your ass and get you out of the cell. You looked at him, giving him the puppy-eyes that you knew for sure he couldn’t stand. 

 

„And I’m sowwy, Dada.”

 

Your apologies were sincere, but you decided to make them even more believable by giving him a quick kiss on the lips that you knew would immediately make his cold heart melt. And it worked just as you thought it would. 

He pulled you closer in his embrace, finally giving you that damn toy.

You hugged your plushie, feeling comforted and loved. 

His eyes closed when he heard your small giggles. You had tricked him once again, but he just couldn’t stay mad at you.

 

„You’re going to be a death of me, baby."

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @aew-regression-cove @rafecameronsloverrrrr

[metalomagnetic]

Either must die snippet

***A dear friend asked on discord if I have some EMD writing left, so here it is.***

----

Harry hadn’t stopped screaming since he entered the kitchen; he’s furious. It’s been a long time since he exploded in such righteous anger.

Cheeks red, jaws set, and those damned eyes of his glinting. Why, it’s almost like before, back in the war. Of course, now at least he can appear somewhat intimidating, what with the size of him. He doesn’t intimidate Voldemort, but it is easy to imagine he could make a random individual cower. Voldemort would like to see Harry going off like this on some pesky journalists or one of his stalker fans. It would be entertaining.

As it is, it’s not entertaining at the moment. It irritates Voldemort to be screamed at.

One flick of his wrist, and he could silence Harry. Another flick and he can send him crashing into the wall. To resist temptation, he drums his fingers on the table, reaches inside to find patience. It’s getting harder and harder to be patient these days. He had to suffer it for a while, but now he’s back in power. A Minister, not a war lord, yet people learned not to trifle with him, not to glare at him, not to talk back.

Even Harry learned, as the years passed by. He minded his business, and he let Voldemort be. Yet it’s not worth the trouble to put him in his place, now. He can already imagine the dramatics that would follow. Harry would break again, and Voldemort will either have to lock him in an attic, never to be allowed in public, or he’d have to put in the effort to build him back up, and he certainly lacks the patience for that. Hermione would be insufferable about it. Delphini would cry.

Harry must be aware of these unpleasant outcomes, too, because while he screams, he doesn’t dare do more than that. He cries, too, tears of pain and frustration and pure despair. That improves Voldemort’s mood a tad. Harry always looks good when he’s crying. “I asked for one thing!” his voice breaks, rough. “One thing! You have everything, and I said nothing- you use me, you use my name, you- I only asked for one thing.”

What a lie. Harry might not verbally ask for much, but those pitiful eyes of his ask plenty, and Voldemort gives it to him. The ungrateful brat.

“And you couldn’t let me have it! You’re a monster!”

Show him, a voice begs, a voice that was dormant for so long, but it’s waking up lately. Show him the monster. Show him how patient you’d been with him all these years. Show him how it could have been.

Voldemort ignores it. His fingers curl around the table, momentarily, because just drumming them isn’t enough anymore, he itches for his wand, but then the crisis is avoided, and he is in control, he won’t snap. He does stand, because it’s safe to do it, his temper is in check, and Harry tired himself out with his tantrum. “You asked for her life,” Voldemort reminds him. “She is alive.” Moly Weasley lives. Thought it seems a misfortune befell her earlier that day. Well earned. Delicious revenge. Harry, sadly, is not the type to enjoy the poetic justice, the mastery in this delivery of punishment.

She lives, like he wanted, she isn’t even in pain, but the score was settled. Fleetingly, he wonders if Bella is happy, if she laughs gleefully in the afterlife. Perhaps not- Bella was never one for poetry, for subtlety. She got her vengeance in blood and screams. Harry stares at him, shaking his head. “I hate you,” he whispers. Voldemort did not want to break him, but he broke, anyway. So fragile, this boy of his, despite his impressive muscles, he shatters like glass. “Nothing new,” Voldemort replies, and walks out of the kitchen.

As soon as he reaches the garden, he feels his anger rising, now that he isn’t focused on not hurting Harry until he explodes into a pile of blood and bones. He gets angrier and angrier with every step. He feels as impotent as Harry must feel. No matter how mad the boy was, how obviously hurting, he did not even think to draw his wand at Voldemort, or punch him, like he once did. He would have- for Molly fucking Weasley, he would have. Harry has few limits, but the Weasleys are one. Harry would crash and burn with them, for them, the world be damned. He didn’t, however, because he must know, deep down, that it wasn’t Voldemort. But he can’t admit it to himself, not consciously. Voldemort is a convenient scapegoat. Voldemort is a monster, rotten and evil, and it’s easier for Harry this way. Easier than the truth.

He Apparates to Lestrange Manor, and he thinks of Bella again. How odd- he hadn’t truly thought of her in years, but now he feels her around; when he walks to Lestrange Manor, is feels like before, like when he’d walk this path and knew he’d find her and Rodolphus inside. He doesn’t, of course. He finds a copy of her, instead. Bella left him copies of herself, echoes that remain to dwell the earth in her absence. Voldemort walks past Andromeda, strolls through the Manor, until he finds Rodolphus’ copy.

Voldemort knows Rabastan is guilty as soon as he lays eyes on him. That stiff posture, the fear in his eyes, even if he keeps his chin up, defiant. “Your wand,” he snarls. Andromeda followed him, she’s frowning, confused, asking what the matter is. The matter is that Voldemort was disobeyed. “Leave,” Rabastan begs her. “Leave,” Voldemort snarls at her. Andromeda is a cheaper copy of Bella, in all senses. Tamer, sadder, broken. But wiser. She leaves.

Rabastan gives up ‘his’ wand. It’s not his, of course, just like Voldemort suspected. He knew, as Harry was screeching, as Voldemort sat there trying not to snap, he was thinking how all this could have been accomplished. Delphini is at Hogwarts, after all. Impossible for her to also be at the Burrow. Unless she Apparated there. But she wouldn’t risk doing all that with her wand. It became quite obvious who would have given her a wand. “It had to be done,” Rabastan dares to speak. “You moved on, but I can’t; not until justice was served. You moved on, but Delphi couldn’t.” Delphini is a far better copy of Bella, compared to Andromeda. But, as Voldemort feared- you do not fear!- as Voldemort suspected, she is no true copy of her mother. Oh, she’s her spitting image, she has some Black traits in her personality, but no- Delphi is his copy. The anger reaches its peak. Voldemort always treasured Rabastan over most others, awarded him more leeway than most others. But Rabastan is no Harry, he’s no Delphini, and Voldemort snaps.

He reminds Rabastan who he serves, whose mark is on his arm. Useless, of course. Rabastan was never one to cow for pain, nor learn from it. Yet his pain serves to soothe some of Voldemort’s anger, lets him take it out on him. Another convenient scapegoat.

(-)

She does walk like Bella, a confident, defiant tilt to her hips. She walks loudly, proudly, as if used to have others look at her in awe, covet her. She brought her heels, even if the path to the Forbidden Forest is not exactly best suited for heels. Whenever she angers him, she knows to make herself look even more like her mother.

Once, when he searched her mind, he saw Rodolphus teaching her this, on the night before he left her at Rowle’s. “It’s best if you look like her,” he told her, advising her to let her hair free, to wear the dresses Bella favoured. “He treasured her above all others, and, in time, I hope he’ll treasure you, too.” She doesn’t stop at a respectable distance, like Bella would have done when she knew she messed up, when she angered him. No. Delphini comes close, closer than anyone dares.

She’s taller than Bella already, and the heels almost bring her up to his chin. She looks up, and those are his eyes, that is his glare, his defiance, his stubbornness. “What potion did you give her?” “My own invention,” Delphini says, and pride flushes stronger on her face. “They won’t detect it.” “And if they do, then what is the problem, no?” Voldemort asks. “Who is going to suspect a perfect school girl? And if they do suspect her, who is going to blame the Minister’s daughter? Who would dare arrest her?” Delphini shrugs.

“If you plan on using my influence to stay out of trouble, if you know you can easily fall back on me to protect you, then you should discuss things with me before you do them.” “Why bother,” she spits. “You would have said ‘no’. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He should have tortured Rabastan more, because not all the anger is out of his system. Furry comes back hot, coursing through his veins, going to his head. “Ask for forgiveness, then,” he hisses, and he takes the step that separated them, towers over her. If she wants to play these games, he’ll play them. She will lose. It’s time for her to learn to lose- Harry spoiled her, far too much. He ignored Voldemort’s warnings that Delphini shouldn’t get away with everything she does, that he should push back, whenever she tests them.

As always, Harry’s kind, tolerant heart, explodes spectacularly in his face.

Delphini doesn’t cower, not truly, but he can detect the current of fear that passes through her. Strangely, it does nothing to improve his mood. Terrifying people usually soothes his fury, but now it just taints it with an unknowable feeling. “I thought you loved Harry,” he says, softly.

“I do!” Her fingers curl into fists at her side. Her neck is bent back uncomfortably, trying to keep Voldemort’s gaze. “She’s alive, isn’t she? Like he asked. She loves Harry, didn’t forget him, and she’ll no doubt dote over him, like a mother. In fact, now that she only remembers loving him, she’ll love him even more! I took nothing from Harry! He can have his pretend mummy! I only took away the memories of all her living children! It’s only fair!”

Delphini’s voice gets louder. Defensive. “She stole my mother from me! So it’s only fair she forgets all the beautiful memories she has with her children, memories she didn’t let me form with my mother. It’s only fair she will only remember her dead son, like I have to remember my dead mother, every time I step foot into the Great Hall, where that harpy took her from me. From us! You lost her, too! And now Molly Weasley cannot remember her husband, either! It’s fair, it is!”

It is beautiful, he agrees. It is poetic and it is just. It is perfect. However.

“You knew he’ll blame me for it; you understand he’s devastated; you understand how he’ll avoid me now, how he’ll suffer, how he’ll moan and whine at me for months on end, start drinking again, retreat into his spare bedroom and rot there for who knows how long. You are perfectly aware Hermione will blame me, too. That it could potentially harm my work. You knew this would affect me. And you did it anyway.” He cups Delphini’s face, and she finally flinches, though she doesn’t draw back.

So beautiful, this child. So intelligent. She loves Voldemort, understands him like no other. His perfect girl. If Voldemort would have ever wanted a daughter, if he’d have been given the chance to make her, build her from scratch- this is what he’d have imagined. Only, he still wishes she would have been more like Bella, or Rodolphus, or Harry; it would have been easier. For him, and for her. Alas, she is not like them. She is like him.

“She deserves it,” Delphini insists. “She hurt me!” Ever her tears are perfect, pretty shapes, clear, trailing down her cheeks. “That never works with me, Delphini,” he reminds her, using his thumb to brush one tear away. “I know!” she hisses. “Nothing works with you! That’s why I didn’t ask! Because you give Harry everything he asks, you are so attentive to provide him with what he needs, but you never care about what I want. What I need. I asked you to punish her, you promised me, remember? When I first met Ron. You promised me! But then Harry asked you to spare her, and you did what he wanted. You forgot about me, about my pain-“

“Shut up,” he says, softly. “I allow you far more than I would anyone else. Harry is my prisoner, he does only what I allow him to do, even if he deluded himself into thinking otherwise. I give you freedom. I don’t make decisions for you. I accept you as you are. But-“ he takes his hand away. “Do not trespass against me, Delphini,” he warns her. “If you want to hurt others, don’t use your mother as an excuse to do it. More importantly, don’t hurt people that are useful to me. Ask before you pull something like this again. And when I say ‘no’, better heed it. Or leave. Go far away, and make trouble there. This is my country, and nothing happens inside it without my say so. I worked for sixty years to subdue this island. If you want that kind of power, you will have to work for it, too.”

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕

A/N: Fluff! For once...but not really this is a simple one-shot but kind of mixed in with the rest of my Spidey stuff iykwim. Starts out a little sad. I also just bend the rules of how spidey senses work to go with the fic

!IT IS A ONE-SHOT PEOPLE.!

A reckless Spidey

An injured Spidey

Your thoughts

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

You tapped the edge of the building, watching the way your legs swung back and fourth. It was insufferable. You were insufferable, it's why the mission went hay wire. It was your fault. Your fault. Seven people got severely injured because of your carelessness.

"Spidey..."

What's worse is that he was here, Nightwing. The 'guardian of Bludhaven' his words always made you feel worse. How embarrassing

Nghtwing was a natural leader, his instructions were clear. The tabloids were right, Gotham didn't need a 'friendly neighbourhood Spider' they needed soldiers. Robin was right, he was better. Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Your hands gripped the edge, the guilt pounded in your head. Why couldn't thing go your way for once? "Spidey. Look at me"

God. Why did he have to use that tone? You royally fucked up, who manages to make made Nightwing mad?

"Kid, I'm not mad." Lies. But might as well humour him

"And what, your 'just disappointed?'" You added, mocking his voice. Earning a tired sigh from him. Wow, how hostile.

"Can you at least come a bit closer? You're going to fall..." "So? I'll just swing away." You could barely listen to his words, all your senses going off. There was always danger in Gotham, it never stopped but it was manageable. Unless something big happened, so you right now you were fighting the urge to cry. .

.

.

A long silence followed, for a second you thought he was gone. Until you felt his presence next to you, great. "I'm fine dude." "And for some reason I don't believe you." Ha ha very funny, you totally weren't stressing right now or anything. You felt him nudge you lightly, "you can't save everyone, you know that right?" You knew that more than anyone, the people you knew, the things you lost. It was common knowledge, but it didn't excuse your behaviour- "But you did?" What?

"What?" "Yeah, things could've been a lot worse if it wasn't for your quick thinking." "But...It was worse because of me." He just shrugged. Shrugged?? Hello? "I'm pretty sure that was group effort, so don't be so tough on yourself." He turned to you, a gentle smile displayed on his face. You couldn't see his eyes behind the mask but you could tell that they were kind ones. He had always been the one hero you looked up to most, it was still weird thinking about how you were now technically co-workers. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn't even open your mouth to say thank you. If you did, there was a high chance of you sobbing, please let it just stop here. You didn't know how many more kind words you could take. "Look, you're still new to this whole crime thing, but you're doing well. And I'm not just talking about the big fights with scarecrow and things like that.." Oh god. "..you, helping the little guys really matters. Batman tends to get caught up in all those huge fights but all he wants to do is keep the people safe and cared for. Like you do, all that energy and happiness it's important."

Please stop

"You...you remind of someone." Fuck, these words are not helping. Ha.

He got up and got down from the building, not before giving you a gentle squeeze. Now you were sure that you were going to throw up. After a few minutes of soaking in his words you decided to finally go home. .

.

. Managing to slip onto the fifth floor unseen for the hundredth time you feel your body go tense. If only you could relax at home like you used to, with the people you loved. You stole one of your aunts shirts from her room. A room that hadn't been used in a while. When you entered the kitchen you noticed something by the door, it was a note that was slide under. Odd. .

.

. EVICTION NOTICE

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Anywhere Else Is Hollow - No Love Love Halloween Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: There are so many pop-culture references in here, I'm so sorry. Title from willow by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary/Warnings: A halloween special episode! Takes place in Chapter 25. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, pre-established relationship

“It’s the middle of fucking June.” Ben grumbles, adjusting his suspenders and glaring at his reflection. “And I still don’t see why I can’t just wear my damn supe suit-“

You grab his shoulders, turning him to face you and moving his hands off the straps for you to fix. “So you admit,” you grin up at him. “Your supe suit is a costume.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, people dress as me all the goddamn time-“

“But you are you. The whole point of this is that you’re not you.”

“Well, I don’t want to be this fucking pussy-“

“Rick O’Connell is not a pussy, he was my very first crush and an excellent treasure hunter. He’s like Indiana Jones, but with no commitment to academics.” 

“Well then why the fuck can’t I be Indiana Jones-“

“Because you don’t have any commitment to academics, and you’re built more like late 90s Brendan Fraser.” You run your hand through Ben’s hair, holding his glower with a fake pout. “I think you look very handsome.”

“I always look fucking handsome,” he mutters, catching your hand and kissing your knuckles. “This is still goddamn stupid.”

“If you want to go tell Ryan that-“

Your hum is cut off with a squeak as Ben tugs you forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you until you’re a little dizzy, swaying against him.

“Brat.” He presses another, lighter kiss on the corner of your lips, smirking as you chase his mouth back fully onto yours. “I’m going to do this shit, for you-“

“For me?” You raise your brows, pulling back enough to give Ben a pointed look. “Or for the blowjob and ice cream you’re going to earn for not being a massive fucking baby about this.”

He shrugs. “It’s a blowjob from you, beautiful. And if you’re going to wear this-“ He cuts himself off, scanning over you with a frown. “What the fuck is this.”

“A costume-“

The lines of Ben’s face deepen, and he rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Who are you.”

“Evelyn Carnahan.”

“Who-“

“She’s your,” you poke Ben’s chest, and keep your face bright as you push through the description. You’d really been hoping he wouldn’t ask who you were, because you know he loves you, but it still might make you cry if he gets pissed off or freaked out by this. “Wife.”

He just blinks at you. “I’m not married yet-“

“No, dummy.” You sigh. “In the movies. Your costume is married to my costume.”

There’s a moment of silence, and it’s the longest fucking moment of your life. Ben is staring at you, looking slightly dumb-struck, and everything inside him is glowing and burning and made of ardor, but if he doesn’t fucking say something-

“If you give me a blowjob in this costume,” he mutters, scanning over your body as an insufferably attractive, cocky grin crosses his face. “I’ll jump off a fucking bridge for you.”

You flush, all of Ben’s hunger making you feel warm and high, but still manage to wrinkle your nose at him. “I don’t need you to jump off a bridge for me, Benjamin. Just don’t bitch and moan, and pretend you’re having a little fun.”

“We can stay here, and have plenty of fun in these stupid fucking outfits-“ 

“Nope.” You push off his chest, and stick out your tongue. “Earn it, Pretty Boy.” 

Ben's face falls into an almost adorable pout, but he lets you tangle his hand in yours, pulling him out of your room and apartment, down to the dining hall. 

You will admit, this whole thing is a little ridiculous. It is in fact the middle of June, but Ryan’s never had a Halloween before, and who knows what the fuck your life will look like come October. Best case scenario, two Halloweens in one year. Worst case- 

You don’t even want to think about the worst case. The worst case is world-ending, heartbreaking, and keeps you up in the dark with nightmares of cold, blue eyes and red hands that might be yours and might be Homelander’s wrapping around your throat. 

So this might be a little stupid, but you don’t care. It’s a distraction, it’s not like you have anything better to do while everyone is benched. You might as well entertain this request from Ryan, and pretend it’s October, and just have simple fun for one night, like the world isn’t ending around you. 

Bonus, Ben does look really fucking good. He’s right, he always looks good—it’s one of the most annoying things about him—but it’s a little insane right now. If it wasn’t for Ryan, and the promise you’d made to attend the party, you’d have taken him up on that stay here and have fun idea. But for now, you’re still allowed to look. Scan over his broad shoulders, his muscles rippling in his shirt, and you want to pull him down by his suspenders to kiss him all over his stupid, handsome face, and he’d trimmed his beard last night so it’s soft and fuck you love him and it’s driving you out of your mind- 

You almost trip as Ben stops outside the dining hall—you hadn’t even realized you’d arrived—and his arm shoots out, wrapping around you and steadying your body. 

“Careful, Sunshine.” He grumbles, not moving away as you regain your balance. “You said no blood, and that fucking counts you.” 

You wrinkle your nose at him. “It does not-“ 

“Yes, it does.” Ben’s snap is firm, his big, warm hand squeezing your waist. “You get hurt, we leave. Got it?” 

“Fine.” 

His eyes narrow, and he bends down to your eye level. Try again. 

I’ve got it, Ben draws back up, and you lower your voice between your heads to a mumble. You massive fucking cunt- 

He snorts, scooping you up into his arms, swallowing your small yelp with a kiss. Brat. Ready? 

Put me down, you whack Ben’s chest, and he knows you don’t mean it—the asshole is big and warm and this is the safest place in the world so you never want to be anywhere but here— because his glower doesn’t waver. 

If you’re going to fucking hurt yourself- 

I’m not going to hurt myself, Benjamin. You drop your head onto his shoulder, giving him your sweetest smile. You won’t let me. 

Damn right I won’t, he scans over your face, and slowly lowers you back down, keeping his hand in yours. Let’s get this shit over with. 

The decorating of the dining hall is abysmal. Frenchie had spray painted some bats on the walls—which had to be some kind of health hazard, but you were all way past that—and Annie had covered exactly three tables in spooky-themed cloth, but that was the extent of the efforts. Everyone seemed to be trying to make up for it with costumes, though. Even Butcher was dressed up. Granted, he did mostly just look like himself with no shirt, but it only took one assessing scan of his black trench coat, sunglasses, and gun to figure out what he was going for. 

“Terminator?” You ask as you and Ben approach the drink table—two bottles of sprite someone put red food-coloring in and a bowl of punch that you really hope Frenchie didn’t spike—and Butcher nods. 

“Right on the money, Love.” He scans you over with a frown. “Fuckin hell are you supposed to be.” 

“Evie, from the Mummy.” 

Butcher's eyes turn to Ben. “And that makes this cunt-“ 

“Rick.” Ben grunts, tugging you a little closer to his side, his glare on Butcher a very obvious, violent challenge. 

No blood, Benjamin. 

I haven’t done a fucking thing- 

It’s a preemptive no blood. If Butcher’s a dick, no killing him. 

Butcher opens his mouth, a mocking grin covering his face and Ben tenses at your side, but with either the best or worst timing in the world, MM walks thoughtlessly between them to the table. 

MM glances over to you and Ben as he pours a drink. “The Mummy?” 

“Yeah, and you’re-“ 

“Dread Pirate Roberts.” Ben’s voice is so confident that the look of exasperation on MM’s face almost makes you snort. 

“I’m Zorro, motherfucker.” 

Butcher takes in MM’s mask and black cloth outfit, and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m with Soldier Boy on this one, Mate. You’re a fuckin pirate.” 

“Lucky it’s not up to you assholes, it’s my costume-“

Ben squeezes your hand as Butcher and MM devolve in further argument, and when you glance up at him his attention is fixed on the food table. I’m fucking starving- 

Go eat, then. 

You’d meant for him to go get food and come back, but Ben pulls you with him as he stomps over to the food, only dropping your hand when he realizes he needs both to fill up his plate. 

Why are these hot dogs so fucking small. 

You follow his glare to the table, and bite your tongue to stifle your giggle. They’re pigs in a blanket. And you’ve definitely had them before 

Ben ignores the second half of your sentence. Are they good. 

I think you’d like them- 

That’s all it takes, and Ben’s plate becomes half covered pigs in a blanket. He drops down onto one of the empty tables—watching you carefully until you sit at his side—and then begins to stuff them into his face until his cheeks are puffed out. 

You can’t look at him or you’ll snort—which means he’ll probably glare at you, which will make you laugh more, and it will somehow end with Ben fucking you on the table, in front of everyone—so you scoot closer to his side and wave to Kimiko as she walks into the dining hall, wearing large yellow skirt and blue top, a large red bow in her hair. 

Snow White? You sign, and she nods with a wide smile.  

Frenchie sewed it for me. She spins around before sitting across from you. He’s coming, he wants to fix his cape. 

His cape? 

He’s something called a Frodo. Kimiko glances at Ben, still chewing, and back to you. Is he okay, he looks angry… Kimiko’s hands pause for a second. Angrier. Than usual. 

He’s grumpy. You shrug. And that’s just his face whenever he eats. He’s like a mean old dog. 

You love him so much. 

“What are you talking about,” Ben grumbles, crumbs falling onto his beard. You sigh, reaching up to wipe them off. 

“Don’t speak with your mouth full-“ 

“Answer my fucking question-“ 

“We were talking about you, Benjamin.” You hum. “And how grumpy you are.” 

“I’m not fucking grumpy-“ 

“You’re so grumpy.” You kiss his cheek, and feel rough affection spark in his chest, his scowl wavering. “And I still love you.” 

“I love you too,” Ben mutters, pressing his leg to yours and returning his attention his food, eating slightly slower. 

You resume your conversation with Kimiko, and give up on explaining what a Frodo is when Frenchie drops at Her side, giving a proud, sweeping gesture to his costume. 

“Good, non? Certainly much better than Butcher only taking off his shirt-“ 

“The fuck are you, an elf?” 

Frenchie frowns at Ben, “I am Frodo fucking Baggins. See,” he raises his bare foot up for you and Ben to see. “No shoes. A hobbit.” 

Ben makes a sour face, opening his mouth to say something that’s likely not very nice, so you punch him in the stomach. 

He doesn’t flinch, but shoots you a glare. I didn’t fucking do anything- 

You were going to call Frenchie’s costume stupid.  

It is fucking stupid. He’s wearing a cape, Sunshine, that’s dumb- 

I know, but it’s the costume. Let’s move, Pretty Boy, before you yell at Kimiko for wearing a dress when she’s Snow White. 

Ben paused. Why the fuck is she Snow White. I’ve seen her bash peoples brain in- 

She says because she wants to take a nap and likes animals and music.  

Ben seems to accept that answer, his glare turning to his empty plate, and tugs you up with him as he stands. “You promised me burgers-“ 

“I did not.” You let him loop his arm through yours, but hold him at the table. “I said Benjamin, if you want to grill burgers, I’m still banned from using the grill but I’ll sit with you.” 

He pauses, looking back to the half empty food table before grunting, “Do you want a burger.” 

You give him an amused look. “Do you want a burger?” 

“Of course I want a fucking burger-“ 

“Then sure, I’ll have one-“ 

You’re cut off with a slight squeak as Ben starts to move, yanking you to his side without breaking pace, but slinging his arm over your shoulders and half holding you against him until you’re on steady feet. 

When you reach the grill Ben helps you up onto the counter—keeping one hand steady on your thigh until you’re settled—and begins to move around, prepping the grill with an almost violent focus.  

He’s barely started when you see Ryan—bright eyes and dressed in a droopy white tunic and loose pants—bouncing over to you, a very sheepish Hughie-Mario and smiling Annie-Samus behind him. 

Ryan says your name, and Ben glances up, movements slowing as he very obviously eavesdrops. “Look!” Ryan gestures to his outfit. “I’m Luke Skywalker!” 

“Yeah, you are.” You nod, returning Ryan’s smile and glancing over him to Hughie. “No lightsaber, dude?” 

Hughie raises his hand that isn’t holding Annie’s to display a blue plastic lightsaber, and frowns at it. “It’s the wrong color, but it lights up, and blue is still a Jedi color. Actually, blue was originally supposed to be Luke’s lightsaber color, but green tested better-“ 

“Fuck yeah it did,” Ben mutters, returning to your side with his arms full of frozen packaged hamburgers.  “Blue’s a fucking dogshit, pussy color-“ 

You kick his thigh, keeping your eyes on Ryan. “But a good color for a lightsaber, right Benjamin?” 

Ben rolls his eyes, but grumbles an agreement. 

“Are you making burgers?” Ryan shuffles to Ben’s side, looking over the grill with wide eyes. 

“Grilling.” Ben grunts. “I don’t make the paddies, kid, I fucking grill them.” 

“Can you, um, can you show me how?” 

You watch them carefully as Ben freezes, his whole body tensing and his grip on the spatula growing white-knuckled for only a second before the whole thing passes, and he nods. “Pay attention, because I’m not repeating anything. And no fucking lightsabers near my grill.” 

You don’t bother teasing him with the fact that it’s not Ben’s grill, it’s everyone’s grill, because Ryan’s eyes light up and that’s what this was about. Ryan feeling cared about, and watching Ben move around and nodding along with his instructions before tentatively flipping a burger, all with an eager face. It was about how when they finished Ryan shuffled up to you with the burger Ben had let him grill himself, nervously asking if you wanted it.  

You’d never taken a plate so fast. But when you start to scoot off the counter Ben’s hand lands on your thigh, holding you in place.

Benjamin- 

He ignores your voice in his head, his attention focused purely on Ryan. “Where do you want to eat, kid?” 

“Um,” Ryan swallowed, his face a little red. “Here? It’s quiet-“ 

Ben’s hand slid up your leg, moving you a little further back onto the counter as he leaned against it himself, looping his arm around your waist as he places his plate down, holding the burger with his free hand as he examines Ryan with a drawn brow. “You need a chair.” 

Ryan blinked. “No, thank you. It’s okay to eat here?” 

“I don’t give a fuck-“ 

“Yes, we can.” You lean yourself against Ben’s back, smiling at Ryan as you kicking Ben’s leg in a subtle movement to shut him up. “Are you liking fake-Halloween?” 

Ryan nods, face eager once more. “Yeah! The costumes are, um, really fun, and Butcher said I can have extra dessert-“ 

Ben freezes mid bite of his burger, roughly swallowing the food in his mouth before grunting, “do you not get fucking candy.” 

“No, Aunt Grace says it’s not good for my teeth-“ 

“Fuck that, your teeth with be fine.” Ben glares around the kitchen before jerking his head to a cabinet. “There’s a damn year’s worth of chocolate in there. Take some.” 

“I, um-“ 

“Ryan.” Ben snaps, holding Ryan’s nervous gaze. “You want chocolate, eat some fucking chocolate. You can’t get cavities, and if Mallory and Butcher get fucking whiny about it, I’ll deal with it.” 

“Okay.” Ryan mumbles, glancing over at the cabinet. “Will anyone notice-“ 

“It’s Kimiko’s,” Ben mutters, tugging you a little closer. “She told me, and we’re the only ones that know about it. You’re good, kid, don’t lose your fucking mind over something so stupid.” 

As Ryan shuffles over to the cabinet—looking back to you and Ben with a bright, shocked face at the truly abominable amount of chocolate in the cabinet—you bump Ben’s shoulder with yours. 

What did you threaten Kimiko with to know about her secret chocolate stash? 

Ben rolls his eyes. She fucking told me, Sunshine. For you.  

Oh. You blink, titling your head at him. Why didn’t she tell me? 

I don’t fucking know, maybe she knew you’d fold and tell whoever looked sad- 

I would not fold-

Ben scoffs. You’d fold in a fucking second. Those pussies would have a bad day and you’d start handing chocolate like goddamn candy. 

It is candy, Benjamin. You wrinkle your nose at him, nodding over to Ryan. And you just folded pretty fucking fast yourself-

Shut up. 

Nope, you caved without Ryan even asking- 

Ben’s arm around you tugs you forward into a slow, gentle kiss. Brat. 

Cunt. You pull back, smiling at him. I love you, you massive fucking idiot-

You love my massive fucking something, darling. Ben winks at you, and you only get to flush as Ryan returns, his pockets stuffed and overflowing with chocolate. 

You’re here for another few hours. You think you could spend a lifetime here, listening to Ryan tell you about how Hughie had helped him get his Luke Skywalker costume right—the key is the shoes, and you have no idea what that means but Ryan sounds certain, so you nod—and watching Ben swallow his grumbles about how Star Wars is fucking dumb as cock for Ryan’s sake. You really hope you make it to this October, and the one after that, and the one after that. You want to spend a lifetime like this, with Ryan’s face full of joy and his words coming out easy instead of unsure. With Ben half wrapped around you, his outfit and face and everything making your brain go a little haywire. If October comes without pain, Ben will be wearing that again. And you’ll have more time to have fun with him—and his mouth, and his tongue, and his rough hands on your body and his hard cock wherever he wants it—before doing this again. Next time, you’ll get Ryan more candy, and a properly colored lightsaber.  

And if another year passes, this could be your whole life. A hundred more Halloweens—probably more, given the whole immortality thing—with Ben looking stupidly handsome at your side and everything being about easy, simple joy. And when you look at Ben’s stoic face and feel his love—hot and zealous and focused in your chest—you don’t think he’d argue with you. He’d be just as happy as you are to do this forever, together, maybe joined by more bright-eyed children he can teach to grill and give too much chocolate. Countless costumes for him to grumble are stupid, but wear nonetheless.  

It would be really nice to have a life like this. 

End Note: I spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing everyone's costumes, but I think I nailed it. Jensen Ackles playing Soldier Boy dressed as Rick O'Connell from the Mummy save me. Save me Jensen Ackles playing Soldier Boy dressed as Rick O'Connell from the Mummy.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚c𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚

part one: is it a wonder i broke? || part two: here

summary_ despite everything your brother Geta did to have you, the mixed feelings you felt, you won’t marry him, because you only want to be with Marcus.

warnings_cringe AU bc I don’t know the movie’s plot, age gap!, semi incest (do not romanticize irl), implied smut 18+, drama, angst, Geta is an asshole, Marcus is a soft peepaw, fluff ending. MY PHONE KEEPS CHANGING ACACIUS FOR ACAIUS UGHHH (I’ll edit this later)

NOTES_ i need this film to be out already <3

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

Ever since you were a kid, you despised feeling any pair of eyes on you. It was like being hunted like you were the prey. As you read, you can feel your brother’s eyes fixated on your presence.

“What do you want?” You ask furiously, slamming your book closed. He sighs, and it’s extremely weird to feel and see him being uncomfortable.

“Caracalla is arriving today,” he says and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Wonderful, more problems” your youngest brother was truly a mistake. If Geta was an asshole, Caracalla was worse, an immature egocentric man.

“I must admit our brother truly is an insufferable dull but we must welcome him until Father arrives” You nod, looking away from him, to the city. Rome looked happily calm that day.

“Well then… we’ll meet when Caracalla arrives” Geta hurries to get in your way before you can exit the garden. It was the first place he took you to when you first set foot in Rome.

“We need to talk about… what happened the other night,” Geta says trying to sound neutral, but his face shows that he has spent the night thinking about the kiss you gave him.

“There’s nothing to talk about, soror. It is what it is…” There’s a fake smile resting on your face.

Truth is you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss too. Perhaps your heart was too resented after seeing Marcus Acaius in a place full of whores and alcohol.

“But-“

“But nothing, Geta. I just beg you to give me a lapse of time to put my thoughts in place” he huffs, incredulously.

“For what? To get in the sheets of Commander Acaius?” your eyes land directly on his, anger quickly escalating again.

“He’s just like every man in this land. Only two things you men need; power to fill your ego and the body of a woman to satiate the urges of pleasure” you spit with disgust.

“I bet you also had your escapades, sister. You must be no stranger to that urge of pleasure you talk”

“Once you love someone, you don’t change the feeling of having the same soul attached to yours for anything else, Geta” he raises his brows surprised at your words. He often wondered if he ever felt love. And if he could possibly achieve it by marrying you.

“One of these days our engagement will become public. You’ll fuck me every day till I bare your children, you’ll command me at every dinner and meeting we have. In the eyes of society, you will disrespect me with honor each day. Until then, leave me alone…”

Your feet hurriedly drag you out of the garden. Desperately needing to be alone. To cry, to think, and to grieve.

…

The moment you stepped out of your room to greet your young brother, Caracalla, you were actually happy to see him. Geta and he immediately bonded like those days when they were kids, leaving you alone.

On your way back to solitude, your eyes are glued to your feet, you don’t have the strength to walk with your chin up and face society with an elevated ego.

You bump into someone, landing on a wide chest.

“carissima…” Marcus says, holding you still. He had a bright look and hopeful smile, which you definitely don’t reciprocate.

“I have splendid news…”

“I don’t want to hear them” Marcus was completely unprepared to hear your cold voice and meet your bitter gaze.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” you want to scream at him, you might even want to kill him.

“I will never comprehend the male necessity to magnify their honor and ego. By telling that they love a woman for then to tangle with a whore.” Marcus frowns confused, he is trying so hard to describe what you’re trying to imply.

“What? No, listen, y/n…” immediately you stop with him your palm raised between you two.

“I won’t ever lay in your sheets again, General Acaius. Whatever we had going on, today seized. And from now on, I’m Lady y/n… future wife of Geta and Empress of Rome” You burst out with pride that sounds and looks too real, but deep inside you are just drowning with your swallowing stubbornness.

“You are not marrying that ludicrous boy”

“And yet… he will rule upon our heads one day” Marcus is boiling in anger, he can’t understand why you suddenly stopped neglecting the idea of marrying your brother.

“I won’t let you…”

“Watch me, General Acaius.” And then he remembers your other brother is in Rome now. He wonders if Caracalla said something to change your mind. Marcus doubts it.

“I don’t understand what I did… I promised to find a way to be with you.”

“You should understand. You’re a man. You can’t resist your lust for a woman’s flesh”

“You think I cheated on you?” your face must’ve been red from anger, you can feel it being hot. You gulp, faking a smile.

“I know you did. Now make a reverence and leave to command your army of men.” He sighs, looking extremely miserable.

“You won’t leave? I will…” you brush past him and leave towards your privacy with the feeling of your own pain choking you. Because you look at Marcus and you just know he’s the love of your life.

For him, after you leave, it’s a moment to reminisce. Everything was peacefully following its course. Marcus never lied, he promised to find a way to be with you, and he found it. He had been impatient to wait for your father until the man set some time to talk with Marcus. With a straight face, rigid posture, and confident tone Marcus Acaius asked the Emperor to marry his daughter; you. To his surprise, the old man immediately agreed, claiming that Geta would not protect you like he wanted. At the same time, Marcus knew it was a bait of your father to keep him as his General. Either way, things fell like puzzle pieces. Marcus only needed to seal the deal with the counselors and priest. And unfortunately, the meeting was held in the worst place ever.

Marcus brushed away every dancer and prostitute that came trying to lure him. He was aware that many women wanted him, but after being so lonely for many years, Marcus was sure he had found the right woman.

But for some reason, you now seemed to hate him. Marcus had very present the phrases you repeated in his ear like a prayer. The smile you would gift him after he called you perfect, the vivid reincarnation of Psyche; the only woman Venus envied for her beauty and gracefulness. There were many actions that confirmed the love you two shared. And Marcus was not willing to simply let you go. Especially to let you go and marry your brother who seemed hungry for violence. Something happened, and Rome’s greatest General would describe everything to keep the girl.

…

Two days later, you convinced your father to let you go and visit one of the matron houses, where orphan children would be delivered often. You brought them presents and secretly left a donation with the finances.

It had been a great motive to stay away from your brother and stop thinking about Marcus. Even having dinner with Caracalla was better than expected. Only that it was on your way back when once again something ruined your day. You overheard the filthy men who advised Geta that he had to hurry to make your engagement with him public as soon as possible. That wasn’t a novelty, it was the fact that they also said how making you fight with a female gladiator only made your image stronger but that wasn’t Geta’s plan, he only wanted to put you in the arena to fulfill his sick and twisted desires.

You let the men pass by the hallway before you take a moment to breathe. Of course, Geta had always had to ruin everything you touched.

You were just one of his twisted obsessions.

If you bleed, he would throw the most acidic liquid on the wound. If you were dying he would do everything to find the quickest way to get rid of you.

But you refused to escape, that would only put you in danger. And you totally refused to live a life that would grow joyless. If marrying Geta would become the most viable negotiation, then you would comply.

When you open the golden doors, you encounter Geta and Caracalla on the giant bed that rests in the middle of the room. Each one of your siblings has at least two naked women kissing and worshiping them. The scene makes you nauseous, but at the sound of your entrance, they all look startled.

“Out…” you say, with such defiance that makes the women hurriedly bolt from the room. Caracalla laughs with no shame, accommodating his rings and robe before passing by your side, knowing you wanted to speak with Geta.

“Get used to sharing the bed with at least half of Rome, soror.” You ignore him, looking directly at the giant painting that covered the walls. And once Caracalla leaves, closing the door, you look down at Geta.

“What would’ve you done if Calista had killed me in the arena?” His face goes pale, probably not expecting you to know about his malicious plans.

“You will never love me, you will never give me what I always wished for. But I won’t drag treasons to our marriage.” You say, climbing to the bed, straddling him, feeling how shy he suddenly got. His pathetic behavior is your strength in that moment. You feel his erection and you hate to use passion as a getaway, but with a man like Geta… no, with any man of Rome, a woman could only use her body to survive the horrors. Unfortunely.

“You think you can command me, y/n?” The man asks, making you giggle.

“I think I already am” he moans the moment you grind against him.

“Say you’re sorry for arranging that encounter. Say you will be a good husband for me.” Your hand grabs his wrist, preventing him from sliding his fingers under your dress. He groans in annoyance, but apparently, your movements were bewitching him enough to drive him crazy.

“Say it…” he hears you whisper in his ear, only to then leave a trail of wet kisses across his jaw and neck.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I will be a good husband, gods…” You smile, satisfied, letting his fingers wander across your wet folds.

It’s disgustingly hot. The way he touches you, under your touch, you command him in disguise. You’ve been hunted by him, your father, many men… but you could also point your arrows towards them, and from the hidden.

“For the gods, you’re perfect, y/n” Geta flatters you, but you don’t take his words for granted. You fake some moans and others come out of your mouth from pure pleasure. And you know that’s enough.

You leave him made a mess.

…

The emperor was pleased when the doors opened. He liked the sight of his daughter. Perhaps he didn’t exactly raise her. But in the depth of his heart, he loved his daughter. So seeing her as a sophisticated woman, walking with her chin up, showing every guest that she was borderline perfect, was a great reason to make him smile.

You find Roman parties slightly boring compared to the ones back at home. But you spot certain General. He doesn’t notice you yet, which gives you time to calm yourself, because he’s sitting beside your father.

After the disappointing revelation of some nights ago, you forget about those precipitated good wishes you had about Marcus Acaius. You also ignore the thoughts at the back of your head, wondering what could they be talking about. You must greet your father before leaving to enjoy the celebration.

“My daughter is what I like to call quite an exotic jewel. Spending years overseas made her only more versatile. You may notice the Egyptian influence she carries” Marcus nods looking at you.

He can’t stop looking at the golden beads decorating your hair, delicate eyeliner along melted golden splotches around your temple. Your bright orange dress illuminated the room more than the hundreds of candles around the place.

Marcus could tell many of the women in the room were jealous of your appearance. Doesn’t matter, he already knows what will happen. He is more than ready when you arrive in front of him and The Emperor.

“My daughter…” your father greets you. You weren’t expecting to see the handsome general sitting alongside your father, which only made it more difficult given your last encounter with him wasn’t the most peaceful.

“Father… General Acaius.” you acknowledge both men.

“Tell our virtuous man here all of the splendid qualities you’ve perfected in Egypt, cara filia” Despite you finding yourself attracted to the older general, you weren’t pleased by the treatment. Your father was displaying you as a prize, one which the general seemed to be valuing. He was a man like everyone else, one with the disgusting urge to get his hands into every whore he came across, one that heavily ingested wine and cursed at every word.

And he made you believe he was different. He tricked you in so little time.

“I like to learn different dialects…”

“How many do you dominate?” the Emperor asks.

“Egyptian, Macedonian dialect, Syrian, Aramic, and standard Greek,” you say, feeling shy and little among those two males. But you remember what your mother said. The emperor’s daughter can’t be afraid. But you are scared, of the madness your brother is falling into, of Marcus offering you broken promises, of your father lying. You should have run past the meadows that day before you could have encountered Marcus. Nonetheless, your father is urging you to say more, which you hate, but you comply.

“I also enjoy playing the Greek Kithara, using my voice and body to sing and dance at parties and ceremonies. I find myself very attracted to learning about our political and military system, as well to writing…” you add, speaking with a bitter tone of voice. Your father exchanged looks with the general. Both smiled proudly, then turned back to give you a glance.

“I told you she was perfect, General Acaius” Marcus already knew most of those things. He had you dancing for him one night at his chambers, he then made love to you and went to sleep tiredly and happy. He also heard you speak Syrian once. It was that and many more things that made you brilliant to his eye. Marcus considered you beyond smarter and more valuable than himself.

“She is…” Marcus confirms, smiling at you, which you completely ignore.

“Very well, this is wonderful. This is why I wanted you to be back at once, cara filia.” You frown, your hand making a fist with the fabric of your dress as an anxious reaction.

“General Marcus Acaius asked me your hand in marriage. The perfect suitor, even better than the one I had in mind” You can’t breathe for a second. You step backward.

“No…” you whisper, cautiously looking that anyone else in that party was looking at the scene. Only Geta, whose fists are crimson red from an unknown danger to you.

“My dear child… I’m an old emperor. I must secure the crown with my son and the empire with my daughter” Your silence is strong. Even the music appears low compared to the crescent tension you have built with your stoic face and trembling lower lip.

“That explains why you sent me away, to train Geta as a future emperor instead of me. Needless to say, What emperor wants a heiress when they have a heir?” You mumble, with a strong defying look that pierces sharply.

“You wanted me to marry Geta to keep half of my title. But the mighty General will keep me still better. Right?…” your feet drag you away, out of the festivities. You feel your half-brother's eyes on you, he must’ve been waiting for this moment since you arrived, and probably he would be shocked to hear you wouldn’t be marrying him anymore. Your eyes are full of tears that quickly start falling. The hallways covered in torches are empty. You can disguise your sobs as you walk away.

A week ago, knowing you would marry Marcus Acaius would’ve been the best surprise ever. But now you didn't even know how you felt. It was a mixture of confusion and bitterness. But at the bottom… you could feel hope.

Either way, none of your prayers were enough. Being who you were born to be, meant never experimenting with what means to feel true peace, true happiness, true love…

Marcus appears behind your back, grabbing your wrist so fast that it scares you.

“Get away from me!” You yell at the man, refusing to let him see you crying.

“I won’t, satis”

“You are just like every other man. I won’t take a husband who goes to pleasure houses, who leans into the touch of courtesans and instigates violence. You might be the greatest General in Rome, but you won’t break my dream of finding a lover who cherishes me” He sighs, listening to every word you just said. How clueless you were.

“You followed me that night?” He asks.

“No. I was looking around the city when I accidentally passed by the place.”

“Then you didn’t stay long enough to see the whole thing” you huff, trying to slip out of his grasp. He only tightens the hand around your wrist, pushing closer towards his chest.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in the meadows. Wouldn’t you?” He asks, forcing with you to keep you still.

“LIAR!” He smirks.

“For the gods that rule caelum, they know I’m not lying. I had encountered the living reincarnation of Psyche herself and I knew I was in love the moment I looked at you” A tough man like him could easily be lying, but you knew he had widowed once, everyone claiming he truly loved his wife and unborn descendant.

“That night, I had just asked your hand in marriage when I went to that pleasure house to seal the proposal” his hands have slowly snaked to your waist, but you keep pushing him away.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was splendid that your father immediately accepted. I would have told you sooner…” you stop squirming, finally looking directly at him. Despite the confusing feelings you were carrying for him, just by looking at his face, you could see the man that you loved.

“You must know… it was your brother who suggested the duel to put you in danger, it was him who gave the order to allow you to prowl around the city, it was also him who arranged the meeting in that filthy place…” he isn’t lying. You know it. Marcus Acaius never begged… and yet, he was literally pleading with you to forgive him for something he was not guilty of entirely.

“Swear it… for your power, for the empire…” you almost whispered, inches away from his lips.

“My oath to you is that I will be devoted, I’ll protect you and fight for you if needed just to ensure I will get to be yours every night for the rest of my life. Nobody could make me quit this enormous love I feel for you.…” He barely blinks, he is putting his heart into every word. Marcus would always be impressed by how fast and suddenly you made him fall all over you. He wasn’t a romantic, he rarely asked for guidance from the gods. But at that moment, he swore you had transformed his dusted heart made of coal, into a marvelous piece of gold.

The way you lean forward, hoping to touch his lips with your own, is your own way to let him know you believe him before actually saying it out loud.

“You have to believe me…” Marcus whispers.

“I do…”

And you finally kiss him. You hold onto him for dear life.

“Marcus… you have to know I was so blinded by fury and jealousy that… I let him touch me.” You reveal, feelings very promiscuous. But to your surprise, Marcus only sighs.

“You didn’t know the truth. You were hurt. I hate the mere thought but… I can’t be mad at you. That would only make Geta feel like he won. But he didn’t… because I belong to you.”

“And I’m yours. I just needed a reason to keep loving you, Marcus Acaius…” The air feels so pure and light. You can breathe knowing he still wanted you, that everything was a mistake. All the blurred patterns you used to see are clear now. You wanted to feel something for Geta, but you never couldn’t. Your heart desired to beat for Marcus.

He kisses you again, cradling your head. There’s an anxious feeling in the mouth of your stomach. Your legs almost shake at the way Marcus grabbed your waist to pull you closer. And when you open your eyes, through the corner of your eye you are able to see a familiar person. Geta is spying on you and Marcus.

But it’s over. There’s nothing to hide. Marcus has his eyes closed, so you take the moment to make visual contact with your brother. It’s a defining moment, where you let him know that despite everything, you got what you wanted. And that he would never have made you happy.

You are in the arms of the only man who deserves your love. The one that decided to stay.

“Let’s get out of here.” You say, giving him one last peck, accommodating his golden leaf crown, and taking his hand.

“To where?…”

“The meadows, where everything began…” he smiles, happy to feel everything back to normal.

Once in the wild meadows, both of you sit on a rock to see the sunset, where you realize you can stop praying for love, now you can just thank and pay tributes.

“See that hill?” Marcus points to the north of the city, one of the most beautiful places.

“Yes, I see it.” You answer, wrapping his lifted arm to hold it tightly against you.

“I’ll build you a house there. With a big space to prepare dinner, a large table for all the children we’ll have to feed. I’ll make you a garden that will be ready for when you decide to bring your mother. And we’ll have the softest bed in Rome, where I’ll always show you proof of how much I love you.”

You feel like you could cry at his words, but you don’t. You literally jump to hug the man, dying out of happiness.

“I love you! I love you! I love you!” He giggles, kissing your forehead.

“You’re all I always wanted. I just wished I was younger, only to have more years to spear by your side”

“For me, it’s enough. I know I have more than enough time to be with you, Marcus”

The next morning, the whole city of Rome is celebrating the engagement. Marcus takes you to the hill to walk the property of your future home and you meet with a seamstress to choose the right bridal style.

Two moons later, you are married to Marcus Acaius, and life suddenly feels lighter, finally, you can savor it. Instead of praying to do so.

______________________________________

Taglist: @screaming-blue-bagel @targaryencxnt @unmagically @myheadspaceisuseless @1kyfv @slooooth

[ladcedes]

melodrama

charles leclerc x musical theatre actress!reader, social media!au

summary a melodrama is defined as a dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and plot-lines that play to the audience’s emotions. when charles leclerc dates a queen of drama, there is bound to be some that seeps into his life.

notes yes, the title was from the lorde album. warning, google translated french

the anniversary posts

yourusername

Liked by lilymhe and 582.382 others

yourusername mon amour ❤️ i never could’ve imagined that i would spend 5 years with you… and i never imagined that i could find someone so amazing, who could make me feel like the most spectacular person in the world, the most special girl, yet also remind me of how human i am and how i’m allowed to be only human. you always manage to whisk me away from the pressures of life, push everything away, and make it feel like it’s just us in this world. you, my darling, are the comfort and calm of my soul. with you forever by my side, i can face anything

view 366 replies

12 March 2023

arthur_leclerc i can't believe it's been 5 years since you two started being publicly insufferable

⤷ charles_leclerc nous t'aimons aussi, arthur 🙄🙄🙄 (we love you, too, arthur)

carmenmmundt congrats on 5 years and cheers to many more!!

⤷ yourusername thank you love! ❤️

f1wagsite the caption is too sweet im jealous

⤷ ynfans2023 literally their relationship makes me wanna go in the bathtub with my hairdryer

charles_leclerc

Liked by alex_albon and 906.438 others

charles_leclerc always the light on my darkest days, my sunshine when it rains, melting away all my worries and doubts, always bringing me up from the lowest of low points. you are my courage and strength. you shine so brightly that you light up everything around you, including myself. you bring out the best in me and love even the worst. you give warmth to the deepest corners of my soul. with you, i’m the best and most natural version of myself. these 5 years together have been the best years of my life, i wish i had met you sooner. even eternity isn’t enough to be with you, mon étoile ❤️

view 523 replies

12 March 2023

lewishamilton congratulations guys ❤️

pierregasly congrats on 5! so where's the ring mate? 😂😂

⤷ alexalbon seconding this 😂😂

⤷ hamilfans pierre?? ALEX?? do they know something we don't or are they playing??

valenciacia the caption??? ME WHENNN 😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ f1girliee RIGHTT like "even eternity isn't enough to be with you"???? i'm going crazy.

⤷ leclercwdc i'm about to go take a bath with my toaster rn

charles_leclerc posted • 8/2/2023 | yourusername posted • 2/3/2023

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly and 867.338 others

charles_leclerc my favourite actress ❤️ unbelievably proud of you, mon cherie @yourusername.

to be blessed with the love of such a hard-working, talented actress is an honour. you performed amazingly tonight and every other night before.

11 February 2023

view 406 comments

yourusername charlie you are such a sap (i love you so much)

⤷ charles_leclerc only for you darling (i love you more)

itsnessa they make me believe in love

⤷ loveleclerc real i don't know what i would do if they broke up

⤷ wdcleclerc i think i would lose hope in love

44britcedes my fav couple 🫶🫶🫶

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 724.198 others

yourusername all's well that ends well

3 May 2023

view 698 comments

myagramm is the ring on yn's finger a new addition orrrr

⤷ pierregasly i guess we found where the ring is

⤷ leclercism beating the breakup allegations with marriage allegations. only them.

⤷ myagramm PIERRE?? HELLO???

httpsainz is that ring what i think it is

solarpiastri im actually crying they rlly said fuck the break up rumours and decided to start up engagement rumours instead

a/n: might make a part 2 if i feel like it in like 5 months

[captain-hawks]

ADVERSARIAL APPETITES

♡ — aki hayakawa x f!reader

The only thing worse than accidentally running into the Lust Devil is having to call Aki fucking Hayakawa for help.

18+ ONLY

wc — 1.9k

prompt — coming in pants, praise kink (requested by @antique-remains)

additional content — enemies to lovers, edging, masturbation, phone sex, light brat taming, light dom!Aki vibes, voice kink, mentions of anal sex, coming untouched, dirty talk, anal fingering

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“Hayakawa.”

“Yeah?”

His voice is slightly muffled, and you know there’s a cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth, burning orange embers dangling precariously as the white stick shakes with the slight movement of his lips.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, the back of your head thuds against the creaky motel headboard as you close your eyes and exhale noisily before muttering, “I need your help.”

Later, you’ll look at your call log and be horrified to find that you called Aki fucking Hayakawa to grovel for assistance. Like this is your first goddamn day as a Devil Hunter. Like he’s not the most insufferably broodish bane of your existence. 

You may never forgive yourself for this temporary lapse in judgment, though that will ultimately be a problem for Later You.

Later—when you’re not stripped down to your bra and panties in a dingy motel room with a questionable smell lingering in the faded brown carpet, your blood-stained button-down shirt and pants carelessly tossed over the back of a half-busted chair, filthy knives left discarded on the nightstand where they’re sitting precariously close to a well-worn copy of the Bible. 

When the metallic taste of blood isn’t still lingering in your mouth from your split bottom lip.

When you’re not about to crawl out of your skin with arousal because your simple in-and-out solo assignment was interrupted by an accidental run-in with the fucking Lust Devil. 

The Lust Devil, who had laughed with an irritatingly melodic voice as you tried and failed to decapitate her. Your knives sang through empty air with each swipe as she repeatedly disappeared into a cloud of hazy, pink vapor, the sickeningly sweet smell of which left you doubled over gagging and gasping for breath. 

She’d kissed you on the cheek and tapped your nose with a deceivingly girlish little giggle before taking her leave, ominously lilting, “Good luck with that, love.” 

You’d hardly made it to this shitty, back road motel with the dredges of your self-control intact, almost orgasming from the mere feeling of your car bouncing with the bumps in the road, scraping your thighs together as you floored it. Abdomen pressed desperately against the edges of the dubiously stained sink, you’d scrubbed your hands raw with scalding hot water thrice in the cramped bathroom before unceremoniously stripping down and flopping onto the bed. 

After an hour of trying and failing to bring yourself over the edge, your sticky, arousal-soaked fingers are now cramped and sore from repeatedly plunging them in and out of your aching cunt. Try as you might, every time you reach the precipice of release, your pleasure evaporates in an instant, leaving every nerve ending in your body painfully ignited with need. Pathetic tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you desperately hump your hand, powerless to expel the insurmountable lust burning inside of you. 

Clearly, masturbating isn’t the solution to the Lust Devil’s little game. 

And Aki says as much after you finish explaining yourself through gritted teeth, fighting for your life to stave off the embarrassing urge to dip your fingers between your thighs again while the call is still active. 

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!” you cry out in frustration. 

“Her power is fuelled by the fear of something, remember. But it’s not the concept of lust.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s the fear of lusting after someone that you shouldn’t. She feeds on the shameful feelings of acting on inappropriate sexual desires.”

You raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see you. “So you’re saying I should come back and seduce Kishibe sensei.”

“You’re fucking shameless.”

“I like a quick solution.��

You can hear his exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. “From what I’ve been told, it’s not about physical consummation. It’s a mental thing.”

“So I just need to think about a dirty little secret while I’m touching myself, and then I’ll finally be able to orgasm?”

“Essentially.”

Twenty minutes later, half of the pillows and bed covers have been angrily tossed to the floor in your attempts to touch yourself in every position you could possibly think of—sadly to no avail. 

“Yes?” Aki sounds bored when he answers your next call, and you make a rude gesture in the direction of your phone. 

“It’s not working.”

“And?”

“And I’m two seconds from losing my mind. Can you put that stupidly smart brain of yours to use and actually help me?”

The other end of the line is quiet, so you add with an annoyed huff, “Please.”

You can hear the slight amusement in Aki’s tone as he asks, “What, do you need me to tell you how to masturbate?”

You pointedly ignore the odd feeling that zips up your spine at his words. “Wow, you sure know how to talk dirty to a girl, Hayakawa.”

He scoffs. 

He fucking scoffs. 

There’s a shuffling sound before he responds in a low, clipped tone, “Stop being a fucking brat.”

Everything is silent save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. 

“I…” you trail off, not sure what kind of response you can formulate with the way your heart’s suddenly pounding in your chest. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he intones smoothly, your toes involuntarily curling at the cadence of his deep voice. 

“Laying in bed,” you reply, far shorter of breath than you were moments ago. 

“And what are you wearing?”

“My bra and underwear.”

“That’s too much. Take them off.”

Your sharp inhale is your only response, and though Aki’s normally hard-pressed to even suggest you do something on a regular day without getting a snarky response in return, your hands are like phantom limbs as you comply with his request. 

“Are you naked now?”

You nod, only to belatedly realize he can’t see it, so you reply, “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your back arches upward from where you’re lying face up on the mattress, those two words catching you entirely off guard. 

Aki’s the bane of your existence most days, for reasons your foggy brain can’t quite remember now that you’re naked and dripping wet to the husky sound of his unfairly attractive voice in a shitty hotel room in the middle of nowhere. You’ll certainly hate yourself for this later, for shamelessly imagining the slightly bored look on his stupidly handsome face as you spread your legs wide, exhaling shakily while running your fingers over your sensitive, peaked nipples. 

But oh, if it’s an inappropriate orgasm the Lust Devil wants?

It’s what she’s going to get. 

(And if you’re silently moaning now in anticipation at the thought of Aki fucking Hayakawa murmuring dirty things to you over the phone to get you off, nobody else needs to know that.)

“I like you like this,” he murmurs.

“Like what?” you ask, as if you don’t already know. 

He chuckles.

—

You’re insufferable. 

Absolutely, positively insufferable. 

You live and breathe to make Aki’s job far more difficult than it needs to be, with your snappy, headstrong attitude and your penchant for nearly getting yourself killed on a regular basis. 

But right now?

Right now, that’s the last thing on Aki’s mind. Because all of your bristled, sharp edges have gone pliant on the other end of the phone, your scathing, impatient remarks replaced by the sound of your heavily aroused, labored breathing. 

“I bet you’re already soaked,” he says, shifting slightly from where he’s seated on his couch as he feels himself harden in his slacks at the thought.

“I'm dripping all over the sheets,” you admit. 

He bites his fist. 

“Touch yourself for me then.”

You don’t hesitate—he knows that because he can immediately hear the lewd, squelching sound of you starting to pump your fingers in and out of your wet hole. 

“Slow down,” he chides, just to be a dick. He can’t let you off that easy, after all. 

“Fuck you,” you pant out with a whine. 

“Maybe if you behave,” he drawls, clicking his tongue. “How many fingers are you using?”

“Two.”

“Put in another.”

He hears a strangled moan fall from your lips. 

“S’tight,” you whimper. 

“How do you expect to take my dick then?” he asks, the words past his lips before he can stop himself. 

There’s a slight choking sound from your end. “How would you fuck me, Hayakawa?”

“Aki,” he corrects you with a slight edge to his voice, not sure why he suddenly feels compelled to do so. 

“How would you fuck me, Aki?”

His dick is straining painfully against his zipper now, a dark spot of precum staining the black fabric of his pants. He presses the heel of his palm against his throbbing shaft to relieve some of the pressure as he hears the damp slide of three of your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt. 

“Till you’re begging me to come.”

You moan for him. 

For him. 

He’s fucked. 

“Would you fuck my mouth to shut me up?” you breathe out, words hoarse. 

“I bet you’d look so pretty choking on my dick.” More precum leaks through, and Aki’s muscles tense. 

“Would I look pretty with your cum all over my face?”

His dick is so painfully hard it feels like it’s going to fall off. 

Aki’s going to kill the fucking Lust Devil with his bare hands. 

“You’re filthy,” he comments, hips rocking upward to no avail.

“Rude,” you exhale between a moan and a whimper, and he imagines the way you’re probably teasing your supple breasts while fucking yourself on your fingers right now. 

“That was a compliment.”

“I haven’t even told you what I’m doing now,” you tease. 

He raises an eyebrow, letting himself run his hand over his throbbing shaft briefly one more time. “What’s that?”

A loud, broken moan follows. “Using what’s dripping out of me to finger my ass.”

Oh. 

He’s really fucked. 

Aki bites his lower lip so hard he tastes blood as he resists the urge to furiously fist his cock. 

“How many?” he croaks. 

“One.”

“Give me two,” he nearly growls. 

“I can’t—“

“Prep yourself for me. Two fingers.”

Aki’s fairly certain he’s never been so desperate to fuck anyone in his life as he is in this moment. 

He hears you gasp and whimper as you slowly ease a second lubricated finger up your ass, knows it’s shoved all the way in by the sobbing moan that follows. 

“Okay,” you whisper shakily. 

“Good girl,” he says again, because he could tell what it did to you the first time. 

You keen at the praise, and he hears as you resume playing with your pussy while plunging in and out of the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks at the same time. 

“I’m close,” you sob. 

“Come for me,” he tells you, like he’s not on the verge of an untouched orgasm himself. 

“Wanna feel you come in my ass,” you whimper. 

Aki’s helpless to hide his answering moan, the mental image sending him reeling. But it’s the sound of you crying out his name as you come that’s his undoing—

“AKI!”

The coil in Aki’s gut unfurls like a whip, white-hot pleasure washing over his body as he trembles with the force of his orgasm. Cum floods his boxers, his hot, sticky seed leaking all over his balls and soaking through the front of his slacks. He gives in and roughly grasps his cock through the damp material, riding out the aftershocks as cum drips along his inner thighs, belatedly realizing just how loudly he’s moaning right along with you. 

Then it’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of both of you breathing hard. 

“Did you—“

“Text me the address of that motel. Now.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!