#fuck you Adam driver and your beautiful cursed lips

[mystverse]

RED | L.TN

Pairing : ten lee × afab reader

Genre : romance

Warning : graphic description of sex, consensual sex, use of safe word so please proceed with caution, minors dni, etc.

Song : Animals - Maroon 5

Your fingers type out your resignation letter with your eyes trained on it, when your assistant arrives with someone who you'd hate to deal with, ❝Y/N, Mr.Lee is here to see you❞ you audibly scoff, rolling your eyes, ❝Tell him to come in and you can leave, Yeon. Ask my driver to drop you home❞

The door clicks open, and Ten walks in with his black hair messy and wet, and his white shirt clinging to his skin, ❝Ever heard of welcoming guests, Y/N?❞ you shouldn't notice the way. He pulls off the cloth, sticking to his skin or the tattoos visible through his shirt. You shouldn't notice the way he smiles, his iconic annoyingly beautiful smile that irritates you to the core. You shouldn't notice water droplets trickling down his Adam's apple and fading into his wet, transparent shirt, but you do, it's very much clear to your eyes, and you internally cuss yourself for it, before hissing out a reply, ❝What even made you think that I'll consider you as a guest?❞ you slam the files shut that are open around you and minimize the mail.

The rain must have been heavy, you think to yourself. If not, Ten would never come to your mansion willingly since you hated him with a burning passion, and you have your reasons. He's your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend. Things didn't work out when both of you had to compete for the CEO position at Lush Fashion House. It was a battle for power that crumbled your relationship, causing the break-up. Harsh words had enough damage to both of you. Both of your families weren't aware of it, and you wanted to keep it like that, acting like you are so in love (you are, actually but so blinded by the power to admit it) for their peace of mind, but all that happened didn't mean you didn't love him. You did, you do, and you always will, but it's just not meant to be. It's not happily ever after, and you hated that.

Your socks clad feet curls up when they touch the freezing cold floor, making you curse. Ten chuckles, as he follows you out of your built-in office, ❝Come on, Y/N. We are co-CEOs, and we share a very special bond❞ he licks his lips, not hiding the fact he's staring at your exposed legs. You could feel his eyes on you and even his hand when he grabs you by your waist. You try not to melt under his touches, but it's hard, too hard to resist him when you love him yet hate him.

❝Stop with your bullshit, Lee. That was a one time thing❞ you push him away, hissing at him again, ❝But it wasn't one time, kitten❞ he whispers, arms curling around you again, cold fingers settling under your beige shirt. You flick his forehead and shoving him away from you, ❝It should have been! So the second time is a mistake, and so is the third, fourth, and every single time❞ you laugh coldly, pulling out a pair of his sweatpants and your oversized black shirt. You throw the towel at him, placing the clothes in your bed, and you walk out, trying to ignore him, as he strips off his shirt.

You go back to your office, falling into your soft blankets piled up in your spare cot. You can hear soft steps entering the room, you scowl, not bothering to look at his irritatingly handsome face. For a minute or so, the room is quiet, and you get chills when he starts speaking in his sultry voice, ❝If us fucking was a mistake, I'd do it again and again❞ you roll onto your back, shivering either from the coldness of the rain or his way with words. He joins you without even bothering to ask because he knows that you'd give in. You're weak for him, like that. He knows the right switches to flick on, and he does it all the time. He curls against you, his bare torso rubs against your back and arms circle you, ❝Put on fucking shirt, Lee❞ you weakly hiss, masking your gasp, and squirming out of his arms, but you can't and you didn't want to when he's too comfortable, to snuggle in, to bury your face into his chest like you always loved. You're letting him in, letting to be in control, submitting to him, and you know that he knows with the way he grins mischievously, ❝Why kitten? Do I still affect you? Thought you hated me. Thought you'd never let me touch you after we broke up❞ his silky smooth voice is teasing, as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath and caressing your burning skin.

❝T-Ten, peo-ple, there are peo-ple he-re❞ you gasp out, your skin turns red, a darker shade and droplets of sweat starts forming on your skin, and Ten chuckles breathily, his fingers wandering further in, tracing the skin gently, ❝We aren't doing anything, kitten. Why are you so concerned about people in the house?❞ he smirks, pressing his lips to your neck, trailing wet kisses. ❝Or do you want me to do something?❞ he nibbles at the skin under your jawline. You quietly moan, arching your back lightly, moist palms crunching the blanket.

❝N-No❞ you stutter, when you feel his erection through his boxers, you curl into a ball, red in the face embarrassed with how wet you are for him, just from his voice and not-so-innocent touches, ❝The truth, Kitten. I don't like my kitten lying to me❞ he husks, turning you to face him. You don't even try to resist, becoming like a puppet in his arms.

❝Answer, Kitten. Don't keep me waiting❞ he chuckles, placing your hand over his tattoo, since you always loved it. You moan, as he drags your hand down but he isn't leading it, it's you who traces his flawless skin, and now you see it, his boxers do nothing to hide his painfully semi-hard member, ❝Touch me, Ten❞ you mutter quietly, ❝Fuck me till I pass out. Fuck me till I forget my name- just fuck me❞ you know the more that you beg, the more he loses control. You don't even why you are doing this anyway, but it's amusing to watch his cool, laid-back attitude dissolving in front of you, crumbling at your words.

❝You shouldn't give me so much power, Kitten❞ he growls, the few buttons holding your shirt together hits the ground, but you are too distracted to care, when he hovers over and joins his lips to yours in a steamy kiss, ripping of the remaining clothes from your body. The air in the room is alarmingly hot than earlier and Ten looks like a predator cornering his prey, and you are his prey, his carnal hunger hasn't been satiated without you and there's only very little he can do with his hands.

❝Kitten, you have two choices❞ he eases his middle finger into your core with a cruel grin, you choke out a moan, clenching around his finger, ❝Fuck you to the point you can't walk straight for weeks❞ he pecks your lips, with that same grin, and pushes two fingers together, ❝or eat you out till you writhe around and beg me to stop❞ you hiss, adjusting to his fingers without complaining like you used to do, because even three fingers won't help you adjust to his size.

❝Bo-th. I wa-nt both❞ you whimper, your palms going over your face, but he stops you with a devilish grin, thrusting his fingers to brush your prostrate. You scream out his name, twisting and turning in his hold but he doesn't mind it, ❝Don't be greedy, Kitten. You can't handle it❞ he whispers with his damned smile, sending chills throughout your body, ❝I-I ca-n❞ you fight back, but you don't know if you can.

Now you regret after a few seconds, seeing his signature smirk, stripping off his boxers, ❝In proper words, then, Kitten. What do you want me to do?❞ he demands, his voice strict laced with lust, eyes dark and sinful, and lips, luscious red lips sucking her neck, you whine but you do, because dom Ten is scary if disobeyed, ❝Eat m-me out a-nd the-n fu-ck me till I can't wa-lk❞

His hold on your plush thighs is strong enough to leave marks, you couldn't give a damn about it with the way he licks between your folds, igniting your insides on fire, you moan out, cheeks already tear-stricken and red, pink lips quivering, begging but you don't know what you're begging for, you clench your thighs together but he keeps them in place, and sucking even more when you clench. He sucks on your clit, tasting the precum dripping out of your core, ❝Sweet❞ he mutters, pushing his tongue inside you as you come, falling apart for the fourth time, moaning pitifully and eyes filled with hot tears, whimpering every second.

Everything is sensitive. Every touch of his is like burning your skin with pain and pleasure. He wipes his lips, licking the white liquid, and gets ready to go down on you again with a sadistic glint in his eyes, ❝No mo-re, Ten no. Can't. Ple-ase no. I can't han-dle any-more❞ he groans, as his fully hard member twitches visibly when you beg.

❝Kitten, one last time. Let me fuck you senseless to finish your request❞ he rolls on a condom, and pushes himself inside, thrusting roughly into your core. You hiss, pleasure is blinding with your wet core, red and sensitive. His pace is slow and gentle at the start, but he turns ruthless at some point, almost to the point of breaking you.

Your screams of pleasure and the sound of skin slapping against skin creates the perfect music he loves, ❝Ah-too mu-ch Ten, too mu-ch❞ you scream, tears falling endlessly wetting your cheeks again, when he keeps brushing your prostrate, over-stimulating you. He doesn't even bother about the tears, like he said he fucks you senseless. You come with a choked scream, crumbling under him, barely conscious yet he keeps going, railing you without a pause.

❝Red! Te-n, no more! Red! 'm sorry. Too mu-ch ❞ you scream, heaving out choked out breaths. The stinging pain is coursing through your lower body. Ten freezes on hearing the safeword, and he realizes how much he had been careless with you, he presses his lips all over your face, kissing the tears off, and he slowly pulls out, ❝ca-n't, no mo-re❞ you hiss in pain, scrunching up your face with tears falling down. It's takes a second for him to get his mind together, ❝Baby, don't be sorry. You shouldn't be. I should've been careful❞ he kisses you full on lips, distracting you from the numbing pain, ❝I'm sorry, baby. I should've been gentle❞ he whispers, lifting you up in his arms, ❝Shh. Just clean me up and put me to sleep❞ you mutter voice hoarse, and your eyes droop as you fall asleep in his arms.

❝Lee Y/N, you did not just resign!❞ Ten barges into your room, door slamming to the wall. You knew this is the reaction you would get, and you answer nonchalantly, closing your laptop with a grin, ❝Oops, but I just did❞

❝You always wanted to be the CEO!❞ he whines, making you chuckle sweetly, and corner him to the wall, ❝I wanted control, Lee. And I control the CEO❞ you whisper, pressing your lips to his.

: MYST

[benjeep]

stitches are for whiny little punk ass bitches Here's a little wip of an outlaw!ren AU idea! Idk I just thought he'd look good in a cowboy hat! :^) suggestions for improvement are welcome!

[jeyramarie]

Mr. & Mrs. Holland- (Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 3

summary: sometimes things just don’t go as planned... 

warning: smut (first time writing it, i hope it’s not shitty), cursing, fluff

w/c: 3,432

a/n: hey guys! my new trimester of nursing school just started completely which means that all the parts after this one won’t come as quickly. i’ll still be writing just not as fast. but anyway, happy reading everyone 🦋

prologue~ part 1~ part 2~

The next day rolled around, both Y/n and Tom stayed home from work. They needed a much deserved distraction from everything they have discovered. Y/n woke up first to go to the backyard and do some morning yoga. She did that everyday but that morning she felt extra relaxed since she wasn’t going to work. The yoga session was longer too, taking more time to meditate and pray to the heavens (a/n: or the universe, in case you don't believe) for tranquility, happiness and love. Tom on the other hand, enjoyed sleeping in. He would sleep the whole day if he could. He’s the kind of person that would eat breakfast at 4 in the afternoon cause he had just woken up. When Y/n was in her last minutes of meditation, Tom walked outside in his grey sweatpants, shirtless, no underwear due to the eventful night from before. He stood there for a few, hands in his pockets, watching his wife take deep breaths. The wind blowing through her hair as she meditated the stress and anxiety away. 

“Morning, love.” he said breaking the silence which made her open her eyes and turn to him.

“Good morning, honey.” she said smiling as she uncrossed her legs and started standing up. Tom stayed there, getting a great view of her ass. She stood up and skipped to him, giving him a tight hug. Y/n took away her face from his neck and stared into his eyes which made him kiss her immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring every move and shape of each other's lips. They fit together like puzzle pieces as if they were meant to touch since the beginning of all eternity. 

“Let’s go get some coffee.” she whispered against his lips as they parted from the kiss a bit. Tom chuckled and grabbed her hand, walking inside towards the kitchen. After a few minutes, they sat down at the dining table, drinking their coffee, eating their fruits and eggs while Tom read the newspaper. Y/n sat there and admired him the whole time. The way his freckles shone with the sun, the way his jaw moved as he chewed his food. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. 

“I forgot to tell you. We have to visit the docks later today..”

“What for exactly?” she said looking up from her plate. 

“When Harrison came to my office yesterday, we looked over all the buyers from this month. One of them has worked with Adam before. I’d like for both of us to check it out, maybe he’s intimidated by a woman.” he smiled and he grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb against it. She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. 

“Whoever‘s not intimidated by a female mob boss, is fucking insane.” Tom cackled making Y/n giggle and lean in to give him a small kiss. 

After breakfast, they started getting ready for their business outing. Y/n wanted to look intimidating so she went for the pant suit. Tom went for the suit of course but this one had a few golden details in the fabric. He was ready very quickly since his wife had to do her makeup and her hair. About 10 minutes later, she finally came downstairs. Wearing a black pantsuit with a red bralette underneath, red heels, a low bun with a few hairs framing her face and her purse and sunglasses in her hand. Tom was in complete awe, he always has been since the first time he met her. 

(flashback to the night they first met) 

Every important mob boss was there, mostly men, drinking and talking business. The only women there were the wives, mistresses and sexy waitresses. No one had really expected a woman to be boss. Everyone pictured them as accessories for men to “look pretty” or some sex toy. 

“So, Tom tell me. Don’t you have any arm candy?” a man asked him, playfully hitting his shoulder. 

“No. Not today.” Tom said, chuckling nervously as he scratched his eyebrow. 

“You know, you should find one soon. There’s nothing better than a celebration after these things.” another man smirked, grabbing the ass of the woman next to him and taking a sip from his champagne. Tom got bored of the conversation which made him look around at everyone. He was on the second floor looking down over the railing. That’s when every single jaw hit the floor when Y/n walked in. The only powerful female mob boss in the country. The room went silent as she strutted into the place. People started murmuring, not expecting her to show up since she had disappeared for some time prior. 

She was wearing a long red dress with a long slit on the side, her hair curled perfectly. Tom stared at her in awe, like time had stopped and he felt that his breath was taken away. Y/n looked up and caught him staring. They stared at each other for some time, feeling sparks as their eyes met. She looked away when a waitress tapped her shoulder to offer her a glass of champagne which of course she took. When she looked up again, Tom was gone. She frowned as she continued to look around, trying to find him. Suddenly, as she was standing in the middle of the room, someone tapped her shoulder. She quickly turned and met with the same chocolate colored eyes that made her melt. 

“Hello.” he said smiling making her smile too. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m Tom.” he said, extending his hand for her to shake. 

“Y/n.” she shook his hand as his face went serious for a bit. Not believing that this was the woman everyone feared. 

(end of flashback) 

She stood in front of him and smiled. 

“You ready?” he nodded and opened the front door for her to walk out. They finally made it to the car and started making their way towards the ports. 

“Can you give me a background check on who we’re gonna meet?” she asked, putting on her sunglasses. 

“His name is James Cavanaugh. This is the first time we ever make an exchange with him. That’s why I did the background check in the first place.” 

“And that’s when you saw he had worked with Adam before..” 

“Yep. For all we know Adam put him up to this so he could spy on us some more.” he said, running his hand through his hair and clenching his jaw in anger. 

“Well we’re not gonna let him do that.” Y/n said softly as she grabbed her husband’s hand. He looked at her and placed his other hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss was quick, both of them sitting up straight again as the car tumbled into the port. The car came to a stop which caused Tom to open the door and quickly jogged around the car to help his wife out. He opened her door and she swung her legs out. Y/n stepped out and started walking towards the men standing on the dock, her heels clacking against the wooden surface. Tom was right behind her with his hand on her lower back. 

“Mr. Cavanaugh.” he said as they got closer to him. 

“Well, hello Tom. Good to see you.” Jame said, shaking Tom’s hand as he looked Y/n up and down. 

“And who may this beauty be?” he smirked, causing her to roll her eyes, thanks to her sunglasses, he didn’t see that. Tom was filled with rage at that moment. That’s his wife the guy is raging over. All he wanted to do at that moment was shoot James in the head.

“I’m Mrs. Holland.” she said with zero expression on her face. 

“Oh, the infamous Y/n. Well, it’s a privilege to finally meet you.” he said, smirking as he extended his hand, waiting for her to shake it. 

“I don’t shake hands, Mr. Cavanaugh.” she said and walked further down the dock. 

“Alright, well… let’s talk business.” he said, turning around as Tom made his way to his wife. 

“That is what we came for, didn’t we?” she said crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Yes, we did-“ 

“Then let’s get to it, James. We don’t have all day.” Tom said, interrupting him as he fiddled with his wrist watch. 

“Okay, well… let’s talk about the trade. Your best partners in exchange for my incoming shipments.” he said squinting his eyes due to the sun with his hands in his pockets. 

“What shipment?” Y/n asked, taking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Some exclusive guns from Canada. Some drugs too.” he said looking at the couple with nerves. They stayed quiet, Tom drawing patterns on Y/n’s lower back signaling her to start asking questions to see if he mentioned Adam. 

“Have you done this with anyone else?” Y/n asked seriously making Jame look at her and then at Tom. 

“Yeah. A couple times actually.” 

“With who?” Tom asked, gaining a questionable look from him. 

“Why is that so impor-“

“Because we only work with people we trust and if you mention someone we have worked with, that means we can trust you too.” she said a bit harshly interrupting him in the middle of his question. 

“What she said.” Tom smiled, tilting his head towards his wife and taking off his sunglasses and turning around to look at the ocean behind him. Y/n knew that made James think, she knew he was going to mention Adam. ‘Jackpot’ she thought, smiling internally. 

“I’ve worked with Adam Matthews… multiple times..” he said fidgeting with his fingers. 

“You hear that, honey? He’s worked with Adam.” Y/n said turning to Tom which made him turn and walk to her. 

“Oh well, that’s nice.” he said as he stood next to his wife with his hand on her lower back. 

“Do we have a deal or not?” James asked, feeling uneasy. He was desperate to know. 

“Well, James we do have to think about it. We can’t just jump into these things. You know this, being a businessman yourself.” she smiled devilishly and looked at her husband, who was smiling too. 

“We’ll get back to you, James. Very soon.” and with that, Tom grabbed Y/n’s hand and started walking towards the car. Leaving James alone on the dock, thinking about what just happened. The first thing he wanted to do was call Adam, to tell him that his plan wasn’t working. What he didn’t know was that the Holland’s driver put a tracker on his car. His secret location wasn’t going to be a secret anymore. 

The Holland’s made it home with bright smiles on their faces. Their plan was in motion, everything was going smoothly. Plus, they had the whole day to themselves. 

“That went well.” Y/n said putting down her purse on the kitchen counter as Tom took off his suit jacket. 

“Did you see how nervous he was?” he laughed as he rolled up his sleeves watching his wife step down from her heels.

“Yeah. I swear, I saw him sweating.” she chuckled and turned to her husband who was staring at her with a smirk.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she said putting a hair behind her ear. 

“Your intimidating side is really sexy… and hot.” Tom whispered as he walked to her grabbing her waist and burying his face in her neck. His lips were soft against it. He bit and sucked on the sensitive skin to mark her, making her moan a bit. 

“You only find me sexy and hot when I'm intimidating?” he quickly took his face out of her neck and looked at her. 

“I didn’t say that. You’re always sexy and hot and beautiful. Just… today you were extra sexy.. and hot… and beautiful.” he smiled and kissed her lips slowly, teasing her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, making him move his to her lower back, pulling her closer. The kiss got intense immediately, both hungry for each other’s touch. Tom grazed his tongue on her bottom lip making her grant access. Their tongues battled for domination as Tom unbutton her suit jacket, revealing her thin bralette. Her nipples hard with excitement, poking through the lace fabric. Tom moved his hand upward, very slowly until his thumb graced her sensitive breast making her jump at the sudden contact. She parted from him to breath as she placed her forehead against his. 

“We should go to our bedroom.” Y/n whispered, making him smile. Tom then grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to go upstairs. Once inside, Tom pushed Y/n against the door placing his lips on her again. Her hands went to his hair pulling it slightly as his hands went to her back to unhook her bralette. 

Y/n bit Tom’s lip sensually making him groan in pleasure. She then moved her hands to his chest and started pushing him towards the bed. The back of his knees hit the mattress making him fall flat on his back. He moved one of his arms under his head to get a better view of his wife who was starting to take off her clothes. She unbuttoned her pants, letting them fall to the floor which left her in her underwear. Y/n moved her hand to her back and unhooked her bralette, letting it slide off her arms. Tom was drooling at this point, he couldn’t believe that someone so beautiful and perfect was with him. She slowly moved her hands down her torso and played with the hemline of her lace thong. He quickly sat up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to straddle his lap. 

“I wanna take it off, darling.” he muttered against her lips while playing with the g string on her lower back. Y/n placed her hands on his jaw, pulling him into a slow passionate kiss. His hand roamed all over her back, ass and hips. Feeling every bump and line of her skin. She started moving her hips against him, making his member grow in size quickly. A moan got caught up in her throat as Tom’s hard member rubbed against her bundle of nerves. He quickly turned, getting Y/n under him to start grinding harder on her making her whimper in desperation. 

“Don’t tease anymore, please. I want you.” she moaned against his lips making him groan and stand up. Tom quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. He looked up and saw his wife biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together to create some kind of friction. That almost made him cum right then and there. Y/n sat back up as Tom leaned down which made her grab his face to pull him into a kiss. Her legs immediately opened making him fall between them perfectly. Her nails scratched his back muscles yearning for him to be inside her. His lips moved to her neck, down to her breast onto her stomach.

“Baby, I don't want foreplay.” she whimpered making him look up at her and smirk.

“No foreplay?” 

“No, I need you… please.”  she said against his lips as he climbed on top of her once again. Tom grabbed his member and aligned it with her entranced. She was soaking wet which helped him slide in easily. Y/n gasped as he stretched her out the deeper he went. He halted his movements letting her get used to the size. Of course, this isn't their first time but every time was just as overwhelming. 

“You okay?” he whispered against her lips making her nod and give him a peck. Tom moved his hips back and moved them forward again making Y/n moan. One of her hands stayed on his hair and the other went down to his ass to give him a squeeze, making him go faster. His pace became faster as he sucked her right nipple making her moan into his ear. 

“Oh my- fuck, Tom.” the room was filled with moans and praises as his pace continued to go faster. He groaned into her neck as she clenched around him making his dick twitch inside. Y/n started to move her hips trying to meet his thrusts. Her back arched as his member hit her g-spot repeatedly. 

“Fuck, darling. You feel- fuck- so good.” he groaned as she gave him pornographic moans which made him go faster. Slapping sounds filled the room as Y/n clenched around him. He suddenly pulled away making her open her eyes quickly, giving him a questionable look. 

“I want you on top of me.” he whispered, making her bite her lip as he moved to sit against the headboard. She straddled his waist and licked her hand, gaining a confused look from her husband. Y/n grabbed Tom’s hard member and started moving her hand up and down slowly, running her thumb over the tip. 

“Fuck.” he groaned placing his hands on her hips, watching his wife’s move a bit faster. After a few more hand movements, Y/n moved forward and lowered herself onto the hard member. She went slowly, feeling him stretch her a lot more from this position. Her head fell back with a moan as Tom attacked her neck and chest. She moved her hips inna circling motion, then started to lift them up and down. He moved his hands to her ass, helping her with the pace. 

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good, so tight.” he said against her breast as he licked and bit her sensitive nipple. She placed her hands on his chest for leverage to bounce faster, making her tits move up and down. Tom looked up at her in awe, pieces of hair falling from her bun, her face expressing an intense feeling of pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned his name over and over. He was so whipped for her. Her entrance got tighter as she got closer to her climax. 

“Baby… I’m close.” she whimpered into his neck getting lost in the feeling. 

“Come around me, darling. Fuck- please, I wanna feel ya.” he muttered into her shoulder after biting it. He then moved to grab her ass and thrust fast into her making her scream. 

“Oh fuck!” she moaned loudly as he thrusted faster than before. Her moans got louder as his movements got faster until they both reached their climax. Y/n fell on top of Tom, both of them completely out of breath. She slowly rolled off of him and closed her eyes. They stayed there for a bit, regaining their breaths. Y/n then sat up and wobbled to the bathroom making Tom giggle.

“Shut up, Holland!” she shouted from the toilet making him laugh more. She walked out and got into bed with him, laying her head on his chest while their legs tangled up together. 

“I love you.” he muttered with his lip on her hairline as she drew patterns on his chest. 

“I love you too.” she said looking up at him, then moving to peck him on the lips. 

“I don’t wanna ruin the moment but we have to check the tracker.” Tom said, playing with her hands.

“I know… but can we stay like this longer? We can check it later, my computer is right there.” she said softly pointing at her dresser. 

“Alright then.” he mumbled and pulled her closed feeling each other's skin. They stayed that way for a few hours. Talking about random things about their childhood, the places they wanna travel to and just things they love about each other. The couple was in the middle of a conversation when Tom’s phone started ringing. It was Harrison. He then took his arms off of Y/n and stretched to the side to grab the phone. 

“Hey, mate.”

“Tom, where are you?” 

“I’m at home, why?” he asked, smiling looking at his wife who was staring at him with heart eyes. 

“Get your ass to Le Royale, right now!” 

“Why? what’s going on?” 

“James Cavanaugh is dead.” 

“What?!” Tom shouted, making Y/n sit up. 

‘What’s wrong?’ she mouthed 

‘James.’ he mouthed back leaving her confused as he listened to Harrison rant. 

“They found him in Adam’s office this morning.”

“Where’s Adam?”

“Nobody knows. We have to be really careful, Tom. No one is safe right now.”

mr&mrs.h: @ilovefandoms102​ @themaddies-obx​ @guillerminacaba​ @teenwishes08​ @runawayolives​ @theartisticqueen​ @quacksonlover81​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @spidernerdsblog​

[lightsovermonaco]

A Decent Workout (NSFW Pierre Gasly)

Masterlist

Completely and utterly self indulgent fic inspired by how damn GOOD Pierre looked over preseason testing. Beta read by @acollectionofficsandshit

The buzzing of an alarm woke you not long after the sun had risen over the deserts of Bahrain. You groan, rolling over and smacking the solid shoulder of your boyfriend, startling him awake as well. “Turn it off, Pierre.”

He does as he’s told, then clumsily tucks an arm around you and pulls you to his chest. Voice rough with sleep, he murmurs, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” You echo, nuzzling into his warmth. You curl your frigid hands against his chest, utilizing your personal space heater to the fullest extent. “How long until testing?”

Pierre rests his cheek on your head. His hand traces lazy circles on your shoulder blade like you have all the time in the world. Your eyes slide shut again, sleep beaconing on the horizon. “About an hour.”

You sigh, suddenly awake. “Not much time for lounging around then."

Eagerness mingled with disappointment in his reply. “First day of the new season.”

Pierre's excitement had been palpable the entire week. Buzzing about like a honeybee on the first day of spring, he had prattled on about the specs of the AT02, what changes he was most excited to see, and his predictions on how the car would compare to others in the paddock. You offered your thoughts when prompted, but were just as happy to listen to his happy ramblings and share his enthusiasm. 

It had been his idea to arrive in Bahrain early, allowing the two of you a few precious, uninterrupted days with each other. From now on, his weekends would be packed. No more last minute trips to ski resorts or visits to Charles in Monaco. Starting today, his primary focus became Formula 1. He would travel around the world to compete in a total of 23 grand prix this year, and you would follow faithfully to cheer him on.

You lay tangled in each other for a few minutes, trading sweet kisses. “I have to go,” Pierre murmurs against your lips. You tighten your grip around his bare middle, determined to make him stay a little longer.

“You’ll be gone for so long though,” You whine, pouting. The last few days had spoiled you. He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Eleven whole hours without a beautiful Frenchman to keep me company.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. And besides, you can watch the entire session from the comfort of our suite.”

“It’s not the same as being in the garage.” Damn the personnel restrictions the FIA had imposed for the upcoming season. You wouldn’t be allowed in the paddock for a single race. You understood and respected the decision, but it bothered you that you couldn't be there when he inevitably made it on the podium this year.

“I know.” Pierre tapped your arm in silent request. Reluctantly, you release your death grip and allow him to slide out of bed. He turns his back to you and stretches, granting you a moment to drink him in. He had packed on a significant amount of muscle during the offseason, filling out in all the right places.

Deciding there was no use trying to go back to sleep, you rise and join him at the dresser. He rummages through it, finally settling on a plain tshirt. As usual, you can’t take your eyes off him as he effortlessly slides the fabric over his head. How did he make an everyday act so inherently sexy?

Catching your stare, he fights the smile playing on his soft lips. “What?”

“Just admiring the view,” You say simply. Going up on your tiptoes, you press a meaningful kiss to his cheek. “Be careful out there, okay?”

He holds out his pinkie to you. You smile, wrapping your own tightly around it. “Promise.” He allows you one more passionate kiss before he slips out the door to make his way to the track.

At least one perk of staying in a suite was the fully stocked kitchenette. You grabbed an apple before brewing a cup of strong coffee, taking in the view off the balcony while it percolated. You could just see the track from here, something you knew Pierre had specifically requested. Although it was early, heat already rippled from the pavement. Hopefully his Alpha Tauri would stay cool and not throw a tantrum in the intense temperatures.

After a quick shower, you threw on one of Pierre’s extra shirts and let the comforting scent envelop you. Settling into bed with your coffee in hand and a laptop humming on your legs, you wait for the testing livestream to begin. In the meantime you scroll through your phone, reading the comments on the pictures of Pierre arriving at the circuit. 

His carefully selected outfit had caused quite a stir and honestly, you understood why. A loose blue shirt, white skinny jeans and sunglasses. On anyone else, it wouldn’t have been impressive in any way, but on him… He somehow always managed to deliver exactly what his fans - and most importantly you - craved.

And when the livestream started and he stepped out on the track with his white and navy Alpha Tauri suit half undone, the moisture-wicking underlayer practically painted on… You damn near lost it.

In the months since last season, you’d forgotten how mouthwateringly attractive he was in a race suit. The underlayer left nothing to the imagination, clinging to the hard lines of his torso. The famous Bahrain heat didn't help your sanity either, the sweat soaked fabric turning slightly translucent in places. Your eyes stay glued to the screen as it flips between cameras, desperately praying for another glimpse of your frenchman. 

How were you supposed to wait nine more agonizing hours for him to return?

As if picking up on your neediness, you didn't see another shot of Pierre for twenty minutes. The camera cut to the Alpha Tauri garage, where Pierre’s car waited in the pit lane. The closeup of him geared up sitting in his Alpha waiting patiently made you slap a hand over your mouth. Those eyes. You knew the little quirk of his brow he threw at the camera was meant solely for you; a way to unravel you when he wasn’t physically there.

You silently cursed him for how well it worked. 

Moments later, the tire blankets are peeled off and his car is lowered to the ground. Gasly was one of the first drivers to head out onto the track, giving him plenty of clean air to lay down fast laps. He completes seventeen laps in the first hour, and by lap twenty he holds the second fastest time, less than a second behind Verstappen. 

You try to focus on the precision and skill Pierre is displaying, but your mind keeps wandering back to the image of him standing on the track in his race suit. The consuming need to strip him out of it is incredibly distracting. It doesn’t help that your social media feeds are flooded with images of it either, offering you no reprieve.

By the end of the second hour, Pierre edges past Verstappen to take the fastest lap and go purple. He nearly holds onto it at the end of the session, just a few tenths slower than Ricciardo and Verstappen. It doesn’t matter; pride and love swell in your chest when he finally pulls back into the garage, his excitement evident before he even pulls his helmet off. The Alpha mechanics share his excitement, the camera showing them congratulating him before cutting to post session interviews.

As much as you tried, nothing could make you focus on Max or Daniel’s interviews. You spun the ring on your pinkie impatiently, waiting for Pierre to make an appearance. Ages later, he finally took a seat at the press conference. He took no mercy on you. Again dressed in crisp white and navy that accented his sun kissed skin, the ring twin to yours back on his finger… 

“Fuck me,” You groaned, throwing your head back. Even with half his face covered, he was still breathtakingly gorgeous. He carried himself with an easy confidence that no one else on the grid could match, on top of the world and determined to make it everyone else’s problem.

The entire time he spoke, you dreamed of running your tongue up the column of his neck, right over his Adam’s apple. You could taste the salt settled in the hollow of his collarbone, hear his breath catching as you worshipped him. 

Only half an hour until he came home to you.

The interview finally ended and you snapped your laptop shut, tossing it to the chair at the bedside. The second he came through that door, you’d pounce on him. Ten hours of straight torture, being forced to endure watching other women on social media drool over him and being unable to congratulate him on his amazing morning session at the garage. 

And fuck, would you congratulate him.

Minutes dragged by as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, the endless pictures of Pierre not helping your desperation. You started at the sound of a key fitting in a lock. Throwing your phone aside, you scrambled from the bed, launching yourself at the door as it opened.

“Hey baby-”

You cut him off with a feral kiss, your lust boiling over. To his credit, he didn’t hesitate in dropping his bag and kicking the door shut behind him. He caught you when you jumped, broad hands cupping your ass as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“I love whoever designed Alpha’s suit,” You mumble between the open-mouthed kisses you pepper along his stubbled jaw. “You look fucking amazing in white.”

“I’ll be sure to pass your thanks along.” Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull, exposing the thick column of his neck. Your tongue darts across his skin, savoring the softness. He groans, his grip shifting to dig his fingers into your thighs.

You don’t pause when he lays you on the bed, mouth continuing its needy exploration down to his shoulder. He settles over you, his solid body a familiar and welcome weight against you. 

“I couldn’t concentrate on anything once you stepped out onto the track,” You tell him, hands slipping under his polo. “Do you know how many women were talking about you today?”

“There’s only one that I care about,” He murmurs, pulling back to strip off his shirt. You take advantage of the power shift to wriggle out from under him. “Where are you-”

“Lay down,” You say, quiet but firm. The corner of his mouth quirks up but he obeys, taking his sweet time. You don’t mind; watching his shoulders ripple as he settles back against the downy pillows.

“Miss me much?” He taunts, the deep baritone resonating with some primal part within you and sending a shiver down your spine. “Usually our roles are flipped.”

You bracket a bare leg on either side of his with a wicked grin. “Do you really think I’d let you set the pace when you tortured me all day?” You bite your lip and let your gaze wander over the hard planes of his pecs, down his sculpted abdomen, finally coming to rest at the line of muscle disappearing beneath his waistband. You don’t miss the way his attention dips to your thighs, your center barely covered by the hem of his band tee you wore.

Pierre grins, folding an arm behind his head. “Do your worst.”

Your shirt joined his on the floor, piercing blue eyes eating up your newly exposed skin. You sink forward, eye to eye with him. You tip your head to the side, letting your hair slide forward to tickle his shoulder as you lean in to whisper, “I will.”

Lips, teeth and tongue float over his skin, leaving small, easily hidden marks in your wake. You let your hands slide across his abdomen as your mouth makes its way down his sternum, pausing to delight in his rapidly beating heart.

Fingers brushing the waistband of his riot-inducing white jeans, you press a tender kiss just below his belly button. "Why do you always insist on wearing white?"

"D-drives you wild," He gasps out, stumbling over the simple words. You hum against his skin in response, cock twitching against your shoulder. One of his hands flies back to grip the headboard, veins in his forearm bulging. 

Only when his eyes slide shut in anticipation do you finally undo the button, unzipping his fly agonizingly slow. Your name is a breathless plea tumbling from him as you ghost your fingers over his length. He lifts his hips just enough to allow you to slide his jeans down his thighs, followed by his boxers. The tip of your finger runs along the underside of his shaft, causing him to groan. The headboard creaks under his crushing grip as he tries to stop himself from shattering at your barest touch. 

Flicking your tongue over the tip, you spread the bead of precum that had gathered there. Slipping into French, Pierre swears viciously, his free hand tangling in your hair. He may know how to make you squirm from across the city, but you knew how to return the favor tenfold.

"You gonna win for me in two weeks, my love?" You purr, curling your fingers around his cock. 

"I'll w-win every race if it means you'll fuck me," He replies immediately, wholly submitted to the promise of your touch. 

You hum noncommittally before taking the tip of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the head. His hips buck, but you're already reacting in anticipation of that very movement. He groans in frustration when your mouth leaves him. A welcome change from your normal games, when it was his head between your thighs, his teasing tongue flicking across your center, your hips rocking in frustration. You enjoy his frustration for a few breaths, lazily drawing circles on his hip like he had done to you that morning.

"I think that could be arranged."

Bracing your hands on his chest, you position yourself so your slick folds brush against his cock. Arching your back, you grind your hips against him, your own chest heaving in time with his. The hours of anticipation had left you dripping wet, evidence of the effect he had on you. You silently praised yourself for your restraint; you wanted to drag out his need and tease him like he had done to you all damn day.

 "Mon amour," he murmurs, and you damn near lose your mind. Two words in his native tongue, dripping with honeyed softness but spoken with such rawness, it sets your soul on fire.

You reach a hand back, guiding him into as you sink down. Your pussy stretches to accommodate the thickness of him, and you have to give yourself a moment to adjust to the fullness.

Sweat beads on his golden brow as you begin to ride him in earnest, his hips rolling to meet yours. Panting, you dig your nails into his forearm, leaving angry red crescents behind. No matter how many times you fucked, it always felt like the first. The perfect fit never ceased to amaze you, the angle of your hips putting delicious pressure on that magic spot inside you with every thrust. 

"Pierre," You breathe, head falling back. His own thrusts become more frenzied, the wet sound of skin on skin sending a bolt of ecstasy through you.

His breathy moan of your name guides you over the edge into oblivion, your orgasm slamming white hot over you. Your desperate movements begin to slow, Pierre stilling beneath you as you struggle to regain your senses. Limbs shaking, you roll over, allowing yourself a moment to steady your breathing before turning back to him.

Pierre jerks when you take him in your mouth once more, tasting yourself on his cock. Hollowing your cheeks while taking as much of him as you can, you wrap your hand around the rest of him.

"Fuck," He mumbles, over and over as he thrusts his hips into your mouth a handful of times before his release finds him. His hips jerk as he cums, your tongue coaxing every last drop from him. You let him finish before swallowing the salty liquid, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

Sighing blissfully, you collapse onto the pillow next to your beloved. His arm hooks around you, still sticky with sweat but you don't care.

“I would say that counts as my workout for today,” He jokes, voice shaking in the aftermath. You laugh, wrapping an arm around his chest.

"Tomorrow, I choose your outfit."

Pierre’s laugh rumbles through you, setting your toes curling. "As long as it makes you attack me when I get home, I'll wear anything you ask me to."

[inkedtae]

quiet rides ⇾ jjk. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ boyfriend!jungkook x reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ established relationship, smut, fluff

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ bored out of their minds on a seven hour road trip with their friends, Jungkook and his girlfriend decided to go on a ride themselves.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 3.3k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ trying to stay quiet sex, car sex, dom!jungkook, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation kink, slight fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap them up folks), cockwarming, edging, cum eating, creampie, slight overstimulation, exhibition kink, lowkey filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ gotta love some daddy!boyfriend jungkook. extremely unedited. if you have any requests, please send them my way. enjoy!

The humming engine and ripples of the wind faintly filled the silence within the SUV. You were bored out of your mind, looking between all your friends and wondering how the hell they were doing just fine for the past four hours. Namjoon was sitting just behind the driver’s seat where Jin was, enthralled with his writing as he scowled at his notebook and shifted in his seat way too much for your liking. Yoongi sat beside him with his earbuds in and music blasting so loud, you could hear it all the way in the back from your seat. Taehyung sat between them, editing photos on his phone while he too bopped his head along to the music in his earbuds. Jimin took the second row all to himself. He was previously sitting beside Taehyung, but had convinced him during your last reset spot to sit by Namjoon and Yoongi so that he could lay down. He always got a back case of car sickness on long trips like these. And Hoseok sat in the passenger’s seat, muttering directions to Jin and occasionally making cute sound effects. 

Everyone managed to keep themselves busy but you. Even your boyfriend of one year, who sat beside you in the last row of seats, was playing some stupid game on his phone, muttering curses under his breath every so often. You had tried to entertain yourself, gazing out the window to daydream, listening to some music, reading a book, but everything just seemed to lose it’s appeal all too quickly.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the car seat with a pout. Jungkook pretended he didn’t notice just to get under your skin.  He knew you adored his attention and would sometimes purposely deny you it just because he simply could. You huffed again, louder this time, and tried to catch his gaze in the corner of your eye. 

Jungkook exited his game and locked his phone before looking at you. He mimicked your pout and annoyed eyes, silently giggling to himself. You bit your lip to keep from laughing, wanting him to know you were seriously bored and done with the stupid car ride. 

“Just three more hours,” he reassured. He knew you were getting restless, wanting to just be there already and lounging on the beach with him by your side. “Try to relax, hun,” he offered a gentle smile, curling a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

You exhaled deeply and nodded. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to relax with the awkward blend of Taehyung and Yoongi’s faint music, Namjoon’s constant shifts and Hoseok’s sound effects. You were going to ask him what he would suggest you do, however you somehow got lost in his soft gaze. It wasn’t the first time this happened, but you still weren’t used to the feeling. An idea trickling into your mind, making you blush under his gaze. 

He furrowed his brows at you, wondering why you were going red all of a sudden. Before he could ask, you relocated your hand from your lap to his crotch, cupping his soft cock as it began to get hard under your touch.

A gasp got caught in his throat from the sudden action. He looked down at it confused, but didn’t make an effort to remove your hand or tell you to stop. “Was this morning not enough?” He whispered, looking back up at you. 

You smiled sweetly, then licked your lips before replying, “Kookie, don’t you know by now?  I can never get enough of you.” Your voice was dripping with sugar. The sweet innocence you radiated made him bite his lip as he swallowed hard, bobbing his adam’s apple. You began to palm him through his jeans, only just making him shiver against your touch.

“Think you’re being cute?” 

“I know I am.”

Wrong answer. His hand shot up to wrap tightly around your throat. Your eyes widened, darting around the car to see if anyone had noticed. They were too consumed with whatever the hell they were doing to care about you two back there. 

“Wanna try that again, babe,” he hissed, somehow still sounding kind through his rough tone. 

You remained silent, knowing better than to talk back to him right now. Your hand on his crotch ceased all movements, simply resting there and feeling him grow harder in your palm. He seemed satisfied with your silence, loosening his grip on your throat and pulling you in for a gentle peck upon your lips. 

He completely let go of your throat as he sat back in his seat. “Good girl,” he hummed. His hands then moved to unbuckle his belt. “If you’re so desperate for something to do,” he started, shifting his pants low enough to pull out his cock. “I can always provide you with suggestions.”

Your mouth watered at the sight of his big cock. Hard and slightly curved, it stood tall. You glanced around again, making sure no one caught you leaning down to take that cock deep in your mouth. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bold. You lick up and down his girthy shaft first, swirl your tongue around his tip, suck up all the precum he would provide, then begin to take him inch by throbbing inch. But, with how you pissed him off earlier, you wanted to show him how much you regret your actions. 

You coated half his cock instantly with your saliva. He inhaled sharply, enjoying the quiet, wet noises of your slobbers and slurps. His hands pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail and he used that grip to guide your head up and down his cock. He smirked at the sight of you so willingly going down on him while all his friends were around. He admired your efforts, gazing at your eager eyes as you enjoyed yourself. 

You pulled up suddenly, confusing him. You didn’t really register that he was about to tell you off for it, eyes trained on that wet cock as you repositioned yourself to be sitting on your knees atop the cushioned seats of the car. Once you were comfortable, you returned your mouth around his cock, moaning at the salty taste of his precum. 

Jungkook rested his head back against the headrest at the returned contact, eyes fluttering closed in a state of pleasure. Though he was loving the feeling of your mouth and wanted desperately to get lost in it, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes for too long. He looked back down at you a second later, knowing it would’ve been a shame to miss seeing his babygirl at work. 

You pulled back from your head bobs until your lips were pressed against his tip. You continued to pump his cock with both your small hands. His cock still hadn’t been fully taken inside your mouth yet. You were working your way to it. For now, however, you felt like he needed to be a bit wetter. You collected the precum you had in your mouth with some saliva and spat it over his cock. 

He let out a shaky sigh at the sight. One of his hands remained on your head, holding your hair while you went back to your previous rhythm of sucks and swirls of your tongue, while his other hand slid down your back and to your ass, rubbing your just barely covered asscheeks. Since being in your new position, you flowy skirt had crept up to your hips, revealing a bit of your bare ass. You had been wearing panties this morning, but Jungkook took them after fucking you against his luggage for talking back. They now sat in one of his pockets, staining his jeans with the scent of you.

You felt yourself getting wet at the memory, pressing your thighs together as you took him a bit deeper. You were about to moan when Jungkook suddenly pushed your head all the way down his cock, bottoming out in your throat and making you gagging uncontrollably. His hand fixed your skirt, covering your ass once more and he coughed to cover up your lewd sounds. 

“You okay?” Jin asked, glancing at Jungkook from the rearview mirror.  

Your eyes watered as you held your breath to subside all your gags. Jungkook ceased his fake coughs and nodded, “just fine. 

Hoseok turned back to check on him, causing Taehyung to do the same. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

“Sleeping,” Jungkook immediately answered. His hips involuntarily buckled into your mouth and you gripped onto the hem of his shirt to remain steady and still. 

Hoseok nodded and turned around. Taehyung glanced at Jimin’s sleeping figure, making sure he was okay too before turning back around as well. 

Jungkook released his grip on you, and you rose up enough to look up at him but not enough for them to see you in the mirror should they glance back. Tears were streaming down your face and your mouth was glistening with your saliva and remnants of his precum. 

He offered you a sheepish smile, soothing your ruined hair down. “I’m sorry, babygirl,” he mumbled. “I didn’t realize he was staring at me until I glanced at the mirror.”

You licked your lips, in an attempt to clean the mess around them, and nodded. You couldn’t really blame him. Besides, you were panting all too much to reply to him anyways. He nudged on your shoulder to signal you to sit up and wiped whatever drool was left on your face with the back of his hand. “Come sit on daddy’s cock, princess,” he cooed. 

You nervously looked back to the front of the car. “I thought you told them I was sleeping,” you replied. It’s not that you didn’t want to sit on his cock; that was all you wanted. But the last thing you needed was any of the guys getting a good view of your fucked out face and features. That right was only reserved for Jungkook as his beautiful sex faces belong to you as well. 

Jungkook was already helping you climb over his lap as he reassured, “just lean back and shut your eyes, baby. They won’t know the difference.”

He lifted your skirt enough for you to spread your legs a bit and sink down on his cock. You hurried the action, biting down on your lip to keep from screaming at the amazing burn of the stretch. Your ass finally met his hips and you did as he told you, leaning your back against him and fluttering your eyes closed. 

“Try not to look like you have a cock in you, babygirl,” he chuckled against your jawline, admiring your parted lips and knitted brows. 

You wanted to follow orders but his cock just felt so fucking good, throbbing against your cunt walls. You rolled your hips a bit, gasping at the subtle friction, but Jungkook was quick to end it all, holding your hips still with an unforgiving grip. You were sure you’d see bruises surface in their wake later. 

Jungkook tsked against your skin, “what did we say about behaving, hunny?” 

You shuddered against him. Your eyes slowly opened and you turned to look down at him with a pouty. “Sorry,” you whispered. 

He breathed a chuckle, waving your misbehaviour away just from the mere sight of you looking so helplessly cute. “Just stay still.”

“We’ll be there in about an hour,” Hoseok announced in reply to Jimin’s question. 

All the guys were engaging in lively conversations, abandoning their previous tasks and singing along to their upbeat playlist. Only you and Jungkook remained silent, his arms wrapped around your waist. He was forced to do this as you kept shifting about. With his strong hands holding you down, it was impossible for you to move. His occasionally twitching cock was the only friction you were allotted.

You rested your head against the headrest in front of you and cried desperate tears of frustration. You were ready to scream “fuck it,” and start bouncing on his cock, simply wanting to feel something. Jungkook kissed your back, muttering words of encouragement in hopes to calm you down. You knew he was ready to throw all caution out the car window too and ram his hips up into you, that this edging wasn’t one sided. But, you still couldn’t stop your silent tears.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl.” Jungkook whispered, leaning over you to have his lips meet your ear. His cock reached deep inside you, forcing a sob out as they guys belted the chorus of the song. Their voices masked your slip up.  

He kissed your cheek, tasting your tears no doubt. “Look, at you taking daddy’s cock like the good girl you are, huh? You’ve been behaving so well. Such a good little girl. I’m going to reward you later for that baby.”

You raveled in his praises, whimpering meekly as you tried to calm yourself down. You knew it was a useless task, his cock always and forever being your weakness, but if you didn’t at least try you were going to scream. 

“Can you take the next exit?” Yoongi asked, as the song ended. 

Jin sighed, quirking his head to the left a bit. “Can’t you hold it? We’re almost there,” he replied, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I can’t and won’t,” he stubbornly answered over the next tune that played. 

Jin compiled without another word, signalling to move into the next lane towards the exit. He must’ve known he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t. 

You couldn’t believe it. This stop was going to tack on an extra twenty minutes to the trip. That was twenty more minutes you'll remain on his cock, twenty more mintues of blissful torture. A loud whine you couldn’t at all help escaped you. 

The guys turned to look back at you with concern washing over them. Hoseok turned down the volume as they all asked a series of “you alright?”

You nodded, unable to answer conhertantly. Namjoon was the first of them to notice your tears. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking between you and Jungkook.

Jimin, being the closest to you, began to rub your head out of concern. Jungkook huffed a quiet growl in your ear, causing shivers to run up and down your spine, and caught Jimin’s wrist. The harsh action shocked everyone in the car into confused silence. Jimin stared at Jungkook, expectedly waiting for an explanation. 

“She has a headache,” he muttered. “It’s best not to touch there. It’ll only make it worse.” His voice sounded surprisingly steady and believable. He then released Jimin’s hand and returned his arm back to his hold around your waist.

They all nodded, and promised to keep it down. You stayed settled on Jungkook’s cock, quietly whining and crying into the headrest in front of you. 

The car pulled into the parking lot. Jin and Hoseok jumped out to get some food, while Yoongi and Jimin left to use the washroom. Namjoon stayed behind with Taehyung, discussing the things they wanted to do once they got there. 

“Hyung, do you mind going to grab us some water?” Jungkook asked. 

Namjoon and Taehyung looked at each other, trying to figure out which one of them Jungkook was referring to. Namjoon was the closest to the door so he nodded and said he’d be right back. After a minute or two, Jungkook conveniently sighed out in feigned annoyance. 

Taehyung turned back, raising a brow as a means of asking what was wrong.

“I forgot to tell him to grab (Y/N) some aspirin for her headache,” he smoothly lied, breath suddenly catching in his throat. He cleared it and asked, “do you mind going to get it?”

Taehyung spared you one last pitiful glance and nodded. “Do you guys want anything to eat too?” 

You shook your head quickly, finally catching onto Jungkook’s drift and just wanting Taehyung to leave already. 

“Just grab us whatever Jin gets for himself,” he replied. 

Taehyung nodded and jumped out of the car. Jungkook waited for him to be far enough before removing his arm from your waist and replacing them with his rough fingers. “Jump,” he growled. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately bouncing up and down rapidly on his cock. You were thankful you had his hands guiding you up and down his shaft because you were growing weaker with every thrust. Tears continued to fall freely down your face at finally being able to ravel at the feeling of his cock rubbing against your tight walls and slamming against the one right spot. Your orgasm was already on the edge those last few thrusts triggering it in full effect.

“D-daddy, I’m gon-” you started screaming your warning but he cut you off. 

“Just fucking do it!” he groaned, clenching his jaw. 

You came all over him, quivering, crying, screaming his name as the car shook from your desperate movements to ride out your high. Jungkook’s orgasm was right behind yours, strong body stiffening while unleashing his full load deep in you as you continued to bounce on him. 

When you couldn’t take anymore, you fell back limp on his chest. He jerked his hips up into you a couple of more times, swirling his cum with yours before resting back too. His lips showered your neck with kisses. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl,” he chuckled. “You really took daddy’s cock for a ride.”

You blushed, breathy giggles escaping you as you tried to catch your breath. “I can’t help it,” you replied in a whine. 

He laughed and kissed your cheek. As he wiped your tears away, his cock began to soften inside you. You shifted uncomfortable, suddenly starting to feel overstimulated. Jungkook couldn’t put you through anymore teasing after that two hour long edge you were both battling against. He helped you up and off his cock, cupping your pussy from leaking all over the rental. 

“Shit, we didn’t think this through,” Jungkook chuckled, catching gallops of your mixed cum in his hand. 

You sighed, wondering what the fuck to do now. It was only a matter of time before they returned. You did the only thing you could think of, hovering your hand under his. “Eat up, daddy,” you blushed. 

His cheeks tinted a light pink too. He brought his cum coated fingers to his mouth, groaning. You caught some cum as well, mimicking his actions. You held his gaze all throughout your filthy meal together. Jungkook pushed his fingers in you, collecting more cum to eat. You hissed at the contact, not yet recovered from his last encounter down there. He ate what was left of your cum off his hands as you fixed your skirt. 

“The moment we get to the beach, I’m gonna clean you up properly,” he promised, sucking his fingers clean. 

You nodded and with a little shrug replied, “I think I’ll be ready for another ride by then.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. 

[peachyproserpina]

Wickedly Domestic

John Wick x OC

Chapter 3: Meetings and Breakdowns

TW: none

Maria was sweating, not from her run, not from the meeting with the most dazzling person she had ever met. No, she was sweating because she was speeding trying to not be any more late them she already was with her meeting with the fucking CEO of her job. She pulled into a space in the underground parking lot before she threw on her heels and booked it to the elevator leading to the lobby. She could feel her calves complain while her tits were basically bouncing out of her bra. In her rush to get dressed and get out the door she didn't think to even put on tights or a good bra. The drive over had been a mess, she never understood while she bothered driving when she had to go into the city, there was always traffic. If there was something you could count on when it came to New York was traffic and tourists. She had managed to not rear end multiple people on the way into work but that did nothing to help her anxiety, adding the fact she was running late to this meeting and she was almost t-boned at an intersection she was panicking.

She could feel the anxiety build up in her veins and makes her blood run cold despite the fact she could run a hand down the back of her neck and come up with a bucket of sweat. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, tapping her nails on the screen of her phone, she checked the time and winced when she saw it was already half past 7. When the doors to the elevator finally dinged open she bit her lip and huddled in the back corner, there was only one other person she recognized in the elevator out of the 4 people already packed in. She couldn’t place a name to his face but his drab attire screamed ‘accounting’ to her. She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and started to tackle the mess that was her hair.

She was still sweating and nervous and she could tell the other passengers in the car were getting tired of her tapping her toes. So busy freaking out about being late she didn’t notice when someone slid next to her and started picking at her hair with her; taking out the knots she couldn’t reach. She froze, someone was in her space, the elevator was filling up and if another intern thought they could feel her up because she was “new and fat” she was going to have a breakdown. She turned to face the intruder and let out a breath when she saw one of her friends. Arianna was working on getting the knots out of Maria’s hair, worrying her lip between her teeth before meeting Maria’s gaze and smiling.

“How’s it going dollface?” Arianna asked while she was rummaging through her bag to find her hair brush. Maria let out an audible breath before replying.

“Could be better, aren’t we like 30 minutes late to this meeting? As region manager you should be freaking the fuck out?”

“Maria, didn’t you get the email update? It was pushed back to 8 am. I told you to check your work email more often.” Arianna chided her, tugging playfully on Maria’s hair. Maria stuck her tongue out at her and moved onto working on her lipstick while her hair was being dealt with. Arianna fussed with her hair before giving up and dropping it back on her shoulders, she was the sole reason Maria has this job. Arianna was the one who vouched for her during the whole interview process, if it wasn’t for her she probably be washing dishes in a bar. While that isn’t a bad job it isn’t enough to keep up on her car payments.

“That’s good I guess. At least I can get something to eat and coffee before the meeting.” Maria unlocked her phone to a barrage of messages from her various group chats. She could feel her anxiety come back tenfold, usually her groups were quiet this early in the day. If everyone was up and making a ruckus someone was usually hurt, or in trouble. She furrowed her brow while she followed behind Arianna, letting her lead her to the line of the little cafe in the building. Opening her roommate chat she scrolled through the 100 plus messages she managed to miss in the short elevator trip up about 60 floors from the garage.

She started from the top, Tubbs, her cat got out again and hasn’t been home since Maria left for work. She cursed herself for leaving the front door unlocked in her rush to be on time. Tubbs was easily 20 pounds and had a knack for opening doors. She shuffled forward with the line,Bradley, her roommates dog would probably find Tubbs skulking around the property before her shift was done, so she wasn’t too worried. Her other roommate Libbie, who was woken up by the incessant ringing of the doorbell approximately 30 minutes ago had been messaging the chat since.

Libbie: I swear to FUCK Mari if you dont fucking ANSWER THESE I AM GOING TO KILL YOU MYSELF

Cooper: LOLOLOL calm down Libs, she was late to work

Mari: I have no fucking clue what yall are talking about.

Maria was brought back into the world by running into the order counter. She smiled when she saw her favorite barista working behind the counter. She rambled off her order before digging around her purse for her card. She was stopped when Mike, the barista stopped her.

“Don’t worry Mar, it’s on the house, you look like you need it.” Maria gaped like a fish and threw a $5.00 in the tip jar before walking away. Finding Arianna sitting on one of the plush couches she settled in next to her, turning her attention back to her phone. She was barraged by pictures of one of the most breathtaking flower arrangements she had ever seen. Delphiniums, peachy roses, purple hydrangeas, and dainty white bell flowers were all arranged in a huge black speckled vase. From the pictures it looked huge. At least a foot tall and she had no idea how big the round arrangement actually was.

Libbie: look, the guy said these were for you and and these are so fucking expensive. I’m pretty sure this fucking thing weighs 60 pounds. All the delivery guy, who woke me up btw, said it that it was addressed to you and needed to be delivered ASAP.

Mari: okay>>??? It could be like a stalker or something! Maybe it's my mom!

Cooper: We all know your mom is too fucking broke to order this many flowers for you. Maybe it’s your secret sugar daddy??

Mari: Okay Ouch,,,, ur right BUT still. I am not hiding a sugar DADDY from y'all. You think I would still be wearing walmart sports bras if i did have one???

Maria put her phone and silent before she got up and followed Arianna to the meeting room. It was in the executive offices, she they had another elevator ride up approximately 15 floors. Maria nestled herself in the back of the elevator and nursed her coffee.

“Rough morning?” Arianna ghosted her fingers under her own eyes, Maria gently touched her face, wincing when she could feel the bags under them. Maria shrugged, a noncommittal gesture she knew drove Arianna crazy.

“Yeah, my roommate is fucking the twink again and they woke me up at 4 am. I wasn’t able to get back to sleep so I went on a run, then I found this puppy on the trail at the swamp. Then I took her home and the owner was like, so fucking pretty.” Maria took a sip of her coffee before continuing, lowering her voice and the elevator filled with more people heading to the meeting filtered in. “Then Tubbs runs away because I was so fucking blindsided by how beautiful the guy was and I thought I was going to be late for this fucking meeting and apparently a huge fucking bouquet of flowers showed up for me like half an hour ago?” Maria pulled out her phone and unlocked it, shoving the group chat at Arianna. The other woman let out a gasp before she took the phone and scrolled through the chat history.

“Who do you think it was?? I don’t know anyone in the company, or you never told me about anyone you were seeing with the initials ‘J.W.’ and how hot was the guy with the dog?” Arianna handed the phone back before taking a sip of her own coffee. “Because like, your taste in men is trash, ladies you do a good job, but you would fuck a skeleton if it called you pretty.” Stepping out of the elevator, Maria slid it back into her purse before downing the last of her coffee and tossing the cup into the recycle bin by the meeting room door.

“I seriously have no fucking clue about the flowers, and he is like hot, like.” Maria tapped her finger to her chin, “like Adam Driver! But like, classically pretty. Like the kinda pretty you would find in an old painting from like the 1800’s or something.” Maria smiled and stuck her tongue out at Arianna’s shocked face before walking into the office and settling in her designated chair, which was thankfully next to Arianna’s.

“You are the only person who would think a painting from the 1800’s is pretty. Let alone Adam Driver. Him and his goofy fucking ears. So unless you can get a picture I am going to assume he is gross as all the other guys you've crushed on.” Arianna swiveled to look at Maria who was rolling her eyes. It was approaching 8 am. The room fell silent as the doors to the meeting room slammed open, the CEO walked in followed by the rest of the executive team. Arianna snapped her mouth shut before swiveling back to face the front of the meeting room.

[snesdudes]

FIST FIGHTING WITH FIRE

chapter I

Pairing: Mason x Detective (Alice Santos)

Warnings: Book 3 demo SPOILERS!!! Cursing, some angst, mentions of sex, Mason being Mason, I guess. Sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: ~2k

Summary: A week after that scene on Haley’s Bakery, Mason deals with the aftermath of his words... Or has he been dealing with it since the very moment he said them?

Read on ao3

chapter II ⭐ chapter III  ⭐ chapter IV ⭐ chapter V

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"Are you gonna put that down?" Nate's voice sounded gentle even when his eyes looked at him in concern. As a response, Mason took another drag of the cigarette before letting it fall to the floor and stumping it with his boot. 

"We gonna go inside or what?" He pretended he wasn't worried.

A week had gone by since his last encounter with the detective. Since he last heard her voice, tasted her lips, looked into her eyes. 

And it was goddamned near killing him.

It hadn't been the last time he had seen her -thank God- since he had checked on her more times than he would admit willingly. The sight of her running down the street, away from his words, away from him, made him ache in a way he wasn't used to. The strange pull on his chest, tightening, constricting, had nothing to do with the kind of aching she used to inflict on him. When that tightening sensation was on the pit on his stomach, a heat surging on his lower belly and expanding. 

When she teased him relentlessly, her usually shy persona changing dramatically the moment they were alone in her bedroom - and her hallway, and her kitchen, and her couch. That aching, he could get used to.

This one, nonetheless… was awful.

He had been inside the SUV the next morning, a cloud of smoke surrounding him when she exited her apartment to leave towards the station. Her bright red hair was pulled up in a ponytail, half her face hidden behind a pair of large sunglasses.

"Come on, sweetheart, let me see your face." He muttered to himself as he watched her advance to her beat up car, long fingers drumming on the steering wheel nervously. But she didn't comply. Instead he saw her get in the driver's seat and take a shuddering breath while she checked her phone, apparently not finding in its screen what she hoped for. 

Did she wipe her cheeks with her sleeve?

He waited two days before he tried to check on her again. This time at night. He stood among the shadows at the edge of the street, his hearing searching for her heartbeat to know if she was home. The sound let him know she was there indeed, though by the force of it probably not asleep… and quickly knew she wasn't alone.

The cigarette burned his fingers for a few seconds before he reacted and threw it. He couldn't just barge in, could he? Even less after what he told her - after making her cry.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

He stood there for two more hours until he saw Tina leaving Alice's apartment. The sigh he exhaled surprised him in new ways. 

It was late at night before her heartbeat let him know she had finally fallen asleep. He had lost the count of the times he had almost crossed the street to bang on her door. 

The mood had dropped lower and lower on the Unit as days passed by. He wasn't sure if it was because he was feeling like shit, because he hadn't told them anything about it even when they had asked repeatedly or because - and that's what he feared - they all missed her. She had kept her distance, only updating Adam on work-related stuff and occasionally texting Felix back, but it wasn't enough. They needed her - they, because Mason had to believe it was all of them and not just himself. Her cheery, strong presence, her incessant chatting and her patience… 

Mason was starting to understand she was irreplaceable. And no one should be. 

That was why they had reluctantly agreed to go to the local bar that night, after Felix pestered them about it for two days. And he didn't know if he wished she was there or the complete opposite. 

The vampire was usually ruthless with his words, but always honest. He told the crude, ugly truth, and if someone didn't like it, they could go to hell for all he cared. It didn't matter if he hurt them or angered them. He didn't give a shit.

But the guilt growing and gnawing at his insides for a week told him otherwise this time. Which could mean two things: or he didn't really mean what he said or he just hated to hurt her. In the worst case scenario, both statements were right.

His brain had replayed the moment over and over. The soft smile she was giving him when their lips parted, hers looking plumper after he moved away, thinking he wasn't nearly done with those lips. Her bright eyes seemed to sparkle with the sunlight that filtered through the windows, and for a few seconds, everything was perfect. They were on their own bubble, sharing breaths and body heat, and the sound of her fluttering heartbeat was the only thing he could hear. Her sweet coconut perfume was the only thing he could smell. He could still feel the tingling in his lips because of her own. And the way she looked at him…

She looked at him in a way that made his breath catch and his pulse kick up. The way his heart nearly seemed to burst threatened to consume him, and he had to look away. He had to look away because he didn't know what he would do if he looked at her for a moment longer. 

Still reeling, confused and scared and anxious, he tried to figure out what was happening. And it all was too much and he heard what the waitress said and had to draw the line that had become blurred between them. So he said those words. And when her smile faltered, his heart seemed to contract and become smaller, and again he looked away. 

He only caught a second of her tear filled eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks, as Alice got up from her chair, almost knocking it over. He almost expected her to snap at him. 

But what she did was so much worse.

Her voice broke and she ran away. He could still hear her heart when he got up to follow her, beating so rapidly it made his own speed up to match it. She took a shuddering breath, so close to a sob he stopped in his tracks. 

He was paralyzed, watching her go. Knowing her pain was his fault.

Felix pulled him away from his thoughts when he stepped forwards and opened the door of the small bar, his demeanor joyful and excited. Nate smiled and followed him, Adam joining as if he was trying not to ruin the night for them. Mason took a deep sigh and followed. 

Alice knew he was there even before Verda's eyes widened and he elbowed Tina, making her drink dangerously shake in her hand. The redhead took a deep breath. The way the back of her neck heated up and her skin exploded into goosebumps was the telltale sign of his grey eyes on her. 

Maybe the worst of it all was that she had no right to be upset. He had been clear even before the first kiss - just sex, no complications. Had she been reading too much into it? In the way he seemed to orbitate towards her whenever they were in the same room? How he seemed to relax and want to actually talk to her? Was all of it her heart guiding her brain and not the other way around?

Alice didn't know how she would react when she saw him again, therefore she had avoided the Unit altogether, but this moment had to come. She was still hurt and trying to figure out her feelings for the infuriating vampire, but still the Unit were her friends. Her family, the closest thing she ever had.

She had to pretend. For herself, for him and for the Unit.

So she turned around with a smile, hopefully convincing enough.

"There she is!" Felix chanted happily before he strode towards Alice through the tables. Her smile seemed to freeze on her face the moment their gazes locked. 

Fuck, she looks stunning. Her hair was wavy and bright as the fucking sun and she wore a lipstick to match. His breath caught on his throat the same way it seemed to happen to her. His fingers twitched, as if wanting to reach out for her without his permission. He almost took a step forward, missing her closeness and the peace she brought with her. Her own peace and storm, all mixed up inside him.

Black looks good on this man. The black henley shirt wrapped around all the right places, and when he ran a hand through his long hair she almost passed out with the urge to feel those biceps around her. He was looking at her and there was no hostility in his gaze. A flash of something passed through his eyes, but she was too far to read it. Regret? Longing? Maybe he just felt awkward after her outburst at Haley's Bakery. She wished she could go back in time, before she felt her heart aching at the sight of him. To the last time she had been tangled with him on her bed, feeling his heartbeat against her skin, his breath on her neck just above her scar.

Could she? Could she keep on having sex with him knowing he would never be truly hers? Not all of him? Why did she ever agree? She had known he would consume her. She had known she was doomed. She had known she was going to fall from him since the morning she woke up with his scent on her sheets. 

Her attention snapped to the brightest smile she had ever seen and she couldn't help but genuinely grin at Felix. Who would have known a vampire would actually be the personification of a ray of fucking sunshine?

"Allie!" He wrapped her in a bear hug while she was half getting up and raised her the rest of the way, until her feet didn't touch the ground, and the detective squealed in delight as she returned the hug, before laughing. 

Had her laugh always been so goddamn beautiful or had Mason just missed it like crazy?

The rest of them sauntered towards the table and Mason didn't miss the glare Tina was throwing his way. Girls talk, man. He ignored her completely, letting himself fall into a chair with Adam taking the seat next to him. 

Nate was the next to hug Alice, although softer, and Mason watched as she closed her eyes, as if she had missed them just as much.  She spoke over Nate's shoulder. "I'm so glad to see you. I was just going to get another round, this one's on me!" 

"Actually, this was enough for me." Verda spoke while getting up, throwing a meaningful gaze to Tina.

"Y-yeah, same. Early morning tomorrow." 

"Oh. Okay." Alice said, suddenly a little shy, finally letting go of Nate, who sat at the other side of Mason. 

"I'll go with you to get the drinks!" Felix offered enthusiastically, asking all of them what they wanted while Verda and Tina said their goodbyes and left. 

Like a magnet, their gazes found each other again. She was trapped in his just as much as he was in hers, but she broke it first, turning her eyes to the ground. She hadn't looked so insecure around them since the day they met. Her shoulders were slumped and she had her own arms around her frame, hugging herself, as if trying to become smaller. He could see the movement of her eyelashes as she blinked rapidly, her heart beating a mile a minute inside her chest, teeth chewing on her red lower lip. She looked shy and fragile, but Mason knew she was the strongest woman he had ever encountered. 

Mason made a decision in that exact moment. 

He would be the one biting that lip before the night ended. And he would not let so many days go by without touching her ever again. 

He didn't even realize the magnitude of his thoughts, too caught up in the moment. He would deal with them later if they resurfaced. 

For Alice, it was absurd how difficult it was not to look at him. To pretend the floor of the bar was far more interesting than those deep pools that seemed to see right through her every single time. But then he spoke.

"Sweetheart."

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A/N: Ahhhh!! My first time writing Mason!! I’ve been obsessed with TWC since I read it and after the demo I just couldn’t help myself. Next chapter coming soon!! Let me know what you thought and if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @agentnatesewell​

[superfanficnatural]

The Choice Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Christian Grey x Reader 

Summary: Deciding to get over your crush on Dean, you find Christian, a mysterious billionaire that manages to split your heart into two. Finding out hidden truths, your decision becomes a hard one, who will you choose?

A/N: Here is part 2 you guys! I didn’t expect much love from the first part but you guys seemed to have really enjoyed it! I’m so happy! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, Kind and Caring Dean, honestly I don’t even know what to write here.

Word Count: 3,512

Italics are thoughts

Masterpost

How the hell did this happen? In the matter of a day, you got your entire world rocked by some sexy stranger, and now you’re kissing the person you have been wanting for the past four years?

Anger started coursing through you, he had the audacity to go and fuck all those other women, then claim that you were his? Fuck no. Pushing him off of you, he had the nerve to act hurt.

“The fuck you mean, ‘What’s mine’? After sleeping with all of those other women, the one time I go and fuck someone else, you get mad? That’s not fair,” you silently seethed, Sam sleeping in one of the beds.

He tried getting closer to you, holding up your hand to stop him, “No Dean, you don’t get to do that, you don’t get to play with my feelings like this. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He opened his mouth to respond, “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth or I’m going to do something we are both going to regret, now go to bed and forget any of this happened,” you cut him off.

He looked rejected, hurt. He reluctantly walked away towards his bed, getting in and turning off the light.

You didn’t know what you were feeling, confusion, desire, anger. So many emotions were swirling through you, you felt like punching something and your mind was going insane. Taking off your clothes and putting on your pajamas, you got an extra blanket from the closet and laid down on the couch. It was incredibly uncomfortable but there was no way that you were going to get into Dean's bed, Sam would probably suffocate you, so you had to do the best with what you could.

Dean was laying in his bed, wide awake. He knew he was a complete idiot for getting with other girls, but he knew what happened to people he cared about, so he pushed you away, releasing his inner desires on other people that wouldn’t die because of him, always imagining that it was you underneath him. He felt like a coward, waiting so long just to finally try and get with you the second you found someone else. He solidified his resolve, he was going to win you over, no matter what it took.

You tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before finally falling asleep, exhaustion aiding you.

Waking up, you felt like shit. Barely getting a wink of sleep, you had slight bags under your eyes and your entire body was sore from Christian and the uncomfortable couch. Sam was already up, researching on his laptop for a new case, “Goodmorning, why did you sleep on the couch?” he asked, confused.

“Just felt like it, thought it would be better for my back,” you lied.

He gave an approving grunt and got back to his laptop. You couldn’t see Dean anywhere and you were somewhat glad, not wanting to start your day in a bad mood. You got up and went to the bathroom, intending to take a shower. Taking off your clothes, you looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing deep purple bruises around your hips, bite marks accompanying them. Reaching your hands up to your neck to touch the hickeys there, you saw the red marks around your wrists as well, evidence of being tied up and cuffed the night before. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine thinking back to it, it was easily the best sex you ever had in your entire life. Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water trail over your sore muscles, soothing them. You spent a decent amount of time soaking under the water, touching yourself thinking back to the night before, the water turning cold. You got out and dried yourself up, shit I forgot to bring in my clothes. You wrapped the towel around your body and opened the bathroom door, steam falling into the room as you walked out. Looking at the table that Sam was at previously, he was still staring intently at the screen, but this time, Dean was sitting right next to him, his eyes locked onto you. You saw his adam's apple bob with a hard swallow, his eyes darkening. He cleared his throat and composed himself, “Hey there, I got you breakfast.” he said with a hopeful smile, holding up a bag. You gave him an unimpressed look and walked over to your bag, taking your clothes out, you went back into the bathroom and slammed the door, your anger getting the better of you. Who the hell was he to think getting you breakfast would automatically make everything better? Fuck him and fuck his stupid face.

“What’s up with her? You do something stupid again?” Sam asked.

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean muttered.

Sam grinned slightly, holding up his hands in defense and got back to his research.

After getting dressed, you took a minute to yourself in the bathroom. You were seeping with anger, who the fuck does he think he is? That he can just woo any fucking girl. I’ll show him.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, walking out of the bathroom.

“So Sammy, find us a new case?” you asked.

“Unfortunately no, it seems like we have ourselves a little break,” Sam sighed out, closing his laptop.

“Thank god, I need some time to relax,” you breathed. Your stomach grumbled, a clear indicator that you were hungry and you reluctantly made your way over to the table. Grabbing the bag without even sparing a look in Dean’s direction or thanking him, you sat down on the couch and pulled out the food, missing Sam’s confused look. 

Son of a bitch. 

Of course he got you your favorite breakfast food, a waffle. You could feel his gaze on you, waiting for your face to light up or to thank him. You steeled yourself and poured the syrup from a cup in the bag over your waffle, stuffing your face and finishing in less than two minutes. You let out a sigh, the food filling you up perfectly. 

“Well, let’s hit the road,” you said, starting to pack up your things. The boys started packing up their stuff too, Dean looking over at you every few minutes, hoping he could meet your gaze. You didn’t give him an inch, not even glancing in his direction, you finished packing and left the room, dropping off the room key at the front desk. Reaching the impala parked outside, you threw your bag in the back seat and got in.

“You don’t want to ride shotgun? You always want to,” Sam said, baffled at your behavior. 

“Couch wasn’t too comfortable, plan on catching some z’s in the back,” it wasn’t a complete lie, but you absolutely did NOT want to sit next to Dean.

Sam reluctantly got into the passenger seat, shooting another confused look at Dean getting into the driver's seat. Dean simply shook his head at his brother, silently telling him not to ask, and started the car, pulling out of the lot and driving to the bunker. You put your headphones on and listened to music, the soft tone eventually lulling you into a calm sleep. You didn’t want to admit it, but the scent of Dean in the car relaxed you in ways that pissed you off. 

Feeling the car come to a stop, you woke up. Pushing yourself off of the seat and looking out of the window, you saw that you were stopped at a gas station.

“Hey, you can go use the bathroom while we’re here,” Sam softly said through the window.

“How long was I out?” you questioned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“About twelve hours, we’re halfway home.”

“Twelve hours?!” your eyes widened.

Damn, I must have been really freaking tired.

You got out of the car and made your way over to the bathroom connected to the side of the main store. Going inside, you took care of your business and looked at yourself in the mirror as you were washing your hands. Eyebags completely gone, face looking more vitalized than before. You smiled and walked out, noticing Sam in the driver's seat with Dean in shotgun. Getting into the back, you gave a thumbs up, signaling you were good to go. 

You saw Sam smile in return through the mirror, pulling out of the gas station and getting back onto the main road. You glanced over at Dean to see that he was already asleep, he must be really tired. Wait, I don’t care.

Physically shaking your head to clear it of its thoughts, you put the music back on. Soon enough, you felt sleep tugging at your eyelids once again, laying back down, you fell asleep.

You felt yourself being lifted, still half unconscious, you snuggled into the warm body that was holding you. Eventually, you felt yourself being placed into a bed, a warm pair of lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and walking out of the room. You didn’t make much of it but you felt even more relaxed than you were, drifting back off into some much needed sleep.

Waking up, you noticed you were in your room in the bunker, when the hell did I get here?

You thought back to it and slightly remembered being carried to your bed, you remember feeling safe and contempt. You had a feeling it was Dean and cursed yourself for letting him do that, cursing your stupid feelings for still loving him even after everything that he did to you. Getting up, you made your way into the kitchen, intending to get a snack. You were slapped in the face with a smell so good you found your mouth watering. Walking into the kitchen, you saw Dean cooking an entire meal.

“Hey sleeping beauty, you slept for a long time, must have been really damn tired. Go and sit with Sam in the library, I’ll call out when dinner is ready,” he chirped.

Dean rarely cooked, but when he did it was always amazing, you wanted to be mad at him but you found your anger was nowhere to be found, replaced with gratitude and a warm feeling in your chest. You didn’t want him to think simply making dinner would make up for everything so instead you gave him a tiny smile with a nod of your head, walking out of the kitchen towards the library.

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted, sitting on the couch across from his.

“Hey, Y/N. You slept for quite a while, you feeling alright?” he asked worriedly.

You smiled at his concern, the big brute you saw as a brother always watching out for you.

“Yeah, I guess I just really needed some sleep, I admit I have barely slept at all over the past few weeks, but I feel better than ever!” you exclaimed.

He chuckled and nodded his head in acknowledgement. You guys sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before hearing Dean call out for you guys from the kitchen. Getting up, the two of you made your way over to the dining table. You walked into the room and gasped, an array of different kinds of foods spread across the table. He had prepared steak and placed one on each of your plates, cooking rice as well and holding it in a container he placed on the table. There was a salad and chicken alfredo, sitting in two huge bowls in the center of the table.

“Holy shit, Dean. This looks incredible,” Sam breathed.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you had the capabilities to make something this good,” not wanting to compliment him, you hid it in your confession, hoping he wouldn’t get it.

His smile brightened and his eyes lit up, dammit, he got it.

You rolled your eyes slightly and sat down in your seat, Dean and Sam on your left and right.

You reached over and grabbed some rice and salad, placing it on your plate. Dean grabbed some rice as well and helped himself with a huge serving of the alfredo as well.

You took a bite into your steak, the juices flooding your mouth and let out an involuntary moan. Holy shit this is incredible.

Dean smirked, “So, how does it taste?” fuck that smug ass look on his face.

“It’s not too bad, could be better I guess,” you shrugged.

His smirk fell a bit at that but he knew that you were playing hard to get, his resolve to win you over as strong as ever. 

You devoured your steak, finishing your rice along with it. Since when the hell could he cook like Gordon Ramsey?

You looked at the table to see the salad nearly finished, courtesy of Sam, looking at his plate, seeing that he at least finished his steak. You reached over and helped yourself to the alfredo, placing a generous amount on your plate. Twirling the pasta around your fork and sticking it into one of the pieces of chicken, you took a bite. Hold it in, hold it in, HOLD IT IN.

You were practically expending every ounce of energy you had to keep the moan of pleasure to leave your lips. He’s a better housewife than any woman or man could be, you thought. You had a feeling he put a little more emphasis on cooking tonight, trying to make up for what he’s done. You appreciated his effort and slowly started to forgive him, however, it’s going to take him a lot more than just one act of kindness to make up for everything. You ate the food with haste, every bite making you want more. Finishing up, you laid back in your seat, feeling completely and utterly full.

“Fine, it was incredible, thank you for the food,” you said, seeing Dean’s expecting face.

He smiled, “No problem, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Even the salad was perfect, who knew you could make something that was actually healthy,” Sam confessed.

You bursted out in laughter, the truth in his statement overbearing. You were hunched over so you missed Dean slapping the back of Sam’s head, chuckling along with you.

Getting up, you were about to start cleaning up the table, noticing the argument on the tip of Dean’s tongue you stopped him before he could say anything, “Nope, you cooked this so the least we can do is help with cleanup.”

He set his lips in a thin line, nodding his head in acceptance, all of you started cleaning up the table. Sam left the room and you were left with Dean, cleaning the dishes and handing it to him to dry.

“Look,” he started, “I know that I’ve hurt you, a lot, and I’m sorry. I really am. I just-” he let out a sigh from his nose.

“Everyone that I’ve ever cared about eventually dies or leaves, and I don’t want you to be one of those people,” he breathed.

You ceased what you were doing and looked at him, noticing the soft and broken expression on his face your heart broke. You dried your hands and walked over to him, enveloping him in a hug, “Dean, I’m not going anywhere. I just wish you would have talked to me, we could have talked this out,” you muttered into his ear.

He pulled away, “You know I’m not good with talking about my feelings, Y/N. I didn’t know if you felt the same or even wanted to give me the time of day,” he confessed, a defeated look settling on his face, looking down at his feet. You grabbed his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you, “I’ve always had a soft spot for you, I care about you Dean, more than anything,” his face lit up, “But it’s going to take a bit for me to forgive you and come to terms with it. I spent years waiting, wanting you to reciprocate what I was feeling. Finding out you felt the same this entire time but not doing anything hurts, I’m going to need some time,” you explained.

His face dropped slightly but he nodded, a fire behind his eyes that said ‘I’m not giving up on you’. You finished up the dishes together and you walked back to your room to go to sleep, taking off your pants to change, you felt the business card Christian had given you. Sitting down on your bed, you typed in the number and texted him.

“Hey, it’s Y/N.”

“It’s good to hear from you, I started to think you weren’t going to reach out,” he responded, barely a minute after you sent your first message.

You felt slightly bad, “Yeah sorry, we were driving back to our actual home, we had to pack and unpack so it took us a while. Finally got some time to myself and remembered to text you.”

“I’m glad you did, I’ve already started missing you.”

You felt giddy and arousal starting coursing through you, remembering your last meeting with him.

“Can’t lie, I miss you as well. Don’t want to be that kind of girl, but what are we exactly? Fwb or...?” you asked, not wanting to get the wrong impression.

“We can be whatever you want to be, we can be friends, fwb, or we can date. With secrecy though, I have a feeling you wouldn’t want to be publicly broadcasted throughout America everyday.”

“You’re right about that, how about fwb and we can see where it takes us?”

“Sounds perfect to me. Hey, I got some work I got to finish but it was good hearing from you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, goodnight beautiful,” he finished.

You had a huge smile on your face, how could someone so attractive think that I’M beautiful? Being around an attractive man like Dean for as long as you have with no indication that he found you physically appealing killed your self-confidence. Hearing words like that from Christian made you feel incredible, you found yourself having trouble to sleep that night, small giggles escaping your lips. After about an hour, you drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

You heard shouting, shooting out of bed, you checked the clock and saw that it was 4am. Getting out of bed, you made your way over to where the shouts came from, realizing that it was Dean’s room. You opened the door and saw Dean in his bed, tossing and turning, muttering phrases you couldn’t quite hear. He had a look of pure fear on his face and your heart shattered, rushing to his side, you called out his name, “Dean? Dean, wake up, it’s just a nightmare,” you softly said, gently shaking his shoulder. He wouldn’t wake up so you shook him a bit harder, jumping back slightly as he shot up out of bed, breathing heavily with sweat dripping down his forehead. 

You reached out and softly wiped them away, “Dean it’s ok, it was just a dream, you're safe,” you softly added.

He looked at you and you had to catch yourself from being lost in his eyes, looking deep into your soul as it seemed. It was silent between you two before you got up, intending to go to your room. After a few steps you heard him whisper behind you, turning around, “Stay,” he said a bit stronger, “Don’t leave me,” he croaked. The hurt look on his face and crack in his voice made it impossible for you to turn away, climbing into bed with him, he instantly pulled you in, wrapping his arms around you. You didn’t want to admit it, but this was exactly what you had been wanting for what seemed like forever. Every time you were in his arms, you felt undeniably safe and incredibly at home. His warm arms were like a cage, protecting you from outside threats. Your body snuggled into him without hesitation, your mind weak from his strong and warm body.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you asked.

He took in a deep breath before responding, “You. I dreamt of losing you, losing you to another man,” he finished.

You took a breath at his words, the meaning behind them hitting you harder than you expected. 

“You don’t have to say anything, it’s ok. Just please, stay with me tonight, let me hold you,” he choked.

You had no plans of leaving his side, nodding into his chest, he let out a breath he seemed to be holding. Tightening his embrace, the both of you fell off into probably the best sleep you had gotten since you were a child, Dean’s warm body the best pillow you could have.

Son of a bitch, I have feelings for two different guys, and I have a feeling they aren’t going to make my choice any easier.

Next Part

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @akshi8278​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​

The Choice Tag List: @fuckthis-and-fuckthat​ @spnfamily-j2​

Tag’s list is open if you want to be added!

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @ultimatedeviant. Here’s some sexy vampire action. 😉

Words: 2813 Warnings: mentions of domestic violence, alcohol consumption, smut

Fucker. You hated him. Perhaps you always had. Perhaps your hatred for him had been so intense you had mistaken it for love. How could you be so stupid? Of course he would cheat on you. For months on end, your now ex-boyfriend had neglected you—he rarely bothered to show up at your place after work, he never took you out on dates anymore and then when you finally met, he was usually moody and grumpy, leading to one-minute-sex which left you all but unsatisfied. The next morning, he expected breakfast and coffee to be ready for him and then he left, sometimes even without kissing you goodbye.

The worst, however, had been his anger and aggressive behaviour. He had only hit you once, yet it had been enough for you to wake up and realise you were trapped in an abusive relationship. You were upset. Upset with yourself and upset with your stupid ex. Now there were two options. You could either crawl into bed with a bar of chocolate and gummy bears, watching cheesy romance movies and cry surrounded by a dozen used tissues or you could say fuck you and go out to have a drink.

It was Monday night—none of your friends were willing to spend the evening in a dimly lit club but that wouldn’t stop you. You felt confident when you entered shortly after 11pm and headed straight to the bar to buy a pint. The first out of many… you had already asked a cab company to come pick you up at two just to be safe.

Inside the club, it was as loud as usual. The bass was humming in your chest, your ears ringing. The best part of this club was its music and especially on a Monday night, it wasn’t as intensely crowded as it was on the weekends—it was the perfect time to get drunk and pity yourself.

Adam glanced up from his flask when he spotted the young girl approaching the bar right next to him, his blue gaze, hidden by dark sunglasses, instantly wandering down to your bare neck. He could practically sense the delicious vein pumping right under your skin.

Hissing quietly, he forced his eyes back up. You had ordered a pint—and he liked your voice, he decided. Mutely, he watched you pay and bring the glass to your lips to empty almost all of it in one go. Shit. Easy.

He had never seen a girl drink like that. You were either incredibly stupid or incredibly desperate. Either way, whatever it was, as he studied your profile and body, he could not take his eyes off you even though he knew it would best to forget about it. He knew how this would end. If he took you home for some fun, he would bite you—and if he bit you, he would have to kill or turn you to make sure you did not spill his little secret.

Oh yes… a really bad idea. He would watch you for a while, fantasise and leave it at that. It was why he did not fail to notice that you tensed up when you spotted a blonde man in the crowd whose distorted expression darkened when he found you at the bar.

You were about to move away, away from him too without even knowing he was more interested in you than in the music in the club.

“(Y/N)… come on, we need to talk.”

“No. You need to fuck off, Jared.” Adam heard you snap. (Y/N). So that was your name. It suited you. Who was that and why was he bothering you? He could sense the violence radiating off of this guy and he figured quickly that it had to be your ex-boyfriend—which would also explain why you drank so much. The break-up must have happened very recently. This guy wanted you back. Or something else. Adam growled, unable to comprehend why he would even consider helping you.

“Jared, no!”

Mine, a carnal voice whispered in his head. She is mine.

Adam rose from his seat when Jared wrapped his hand around your arm to yank you towards him, making him growl yet again. The urge to protect you was boiling within him, almost as if an invisible force was pulling him to you. It might have been the animal inside of him that wanted him to own you but he was not going to let Jared take you away from him. Bloody zombies…

“I believe the lady said no, Jared.” He snarled threateningly. The human turned his head to him so fast any other man would have felt intimidated. He was aggressive—and without a doubt he had hit you before. Adam longed to rip his throat out there and then.

“Who the fuck are you, mind your own business!”

The vampire blinked, relieved that his blue eyes were hidden by the dark sunglasses which luckily failed to reveal his slowly darkening irises until he was ready to pounce and attack.

“Let go of her.”

Much to his surprise, he did—only, however, to instead approach him. Men around them turned away in a desperate attempt not to witness the imminent club brawl. Yet when Jared lunged out, the moment his fist was to connect with Adam’s face, he caught it in mid-air seemingly without any effort at all and held it so tightly Jared’s fingers began to crack. If he squeezed any harder, he would break his hand—and he was sure that he was very well aware of that—aware enough to realise he would not stand a chance against him.

He heard you gasp despite the loud music, noticing your shocked and at the very same time impressed expression out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay, let go, fuck, let go! That’s not worth it, fuck…” Jared cursed and turned back to you when Adam released his hand and he shook it with a whine. “I really hope he’ll fuck you better than I did. This is not over yet.”

You let out a relieved breath when he shot you one last, angry glare and then elbowed his way through the crowd—away from you.

“Thank you.” You said genuinely. Whoever he was, he had probably just saved you a lot of pain and violence; even if the fact he was wearing sunglasses and gloves inside freaked you out just a tiny little bit.

The stranger nodded calmly, sitting back down. “Can I buy you another drink?” What was he doing? For Fuck’s sake…

“Look… I’m really grateful for your help but...” You stopped yourself. He was seriously hot. And if there was one thing that would bother Jared’s giant ego the most, it would be you actually fucking someone else. “Actually… yes. I would love that. Thank you. I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Adam.” Adam. Adam, the mysterious stranger. You liked that and somehow… somehow he fascinated you. Those sunglasses, the gloves… the black hair and his smooth voice… it almost felt like he was hypnotising you. Had that been that… exciting tingling, making the hairs on your neck stand when you had ordered your first drink? That awkward feeling of being watched? You swallowed thickly.

It took you ten whole minutes to tell him all about your boyfriend—the beer making you talkative and, despite his sunglasses, you did not fail to notice that he seemed to be fixed on your neck. Did he have a thing for that? Your neck was your most sensitive area… your heart skipped a beat when you imagined his thin and soft lips plastering feather-light kisses on your skin, making you sigh… aroused, you clenched your legs.

“How did he know you would be here then?” Adam asked just then. He himself had not ordered a drink—instead, he kept sipping from that silver flask he had brought.

“It’s my favourite club. One of my friends must have told him. They don’t know we broke up yet.”

“I see.”

For a moment, silence spread between you—he wouldn’t exactly say much about himself. You merely knew he was a musician and that he lived not far from here. You appeared to like the same kind of music, apart from that he remained utterly mysterious.

“Would you like to dance with me?” You asked, hoping to break that scrutinising gaze he seemed to be meeting you with.

“No. I don’t dance.”

“Oh…”

“Let me take you home.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Let me take you home. My car is parked on the other side of the street.”

“You drank.” You stated, pointing at his flask.

“Not alcohol.” Your frown deepened.

“W-why don’t we call a taxi? Pick up your car tomorrow…”

But Adam knew you wouldn’t make it home and he wasn’t going to fuck you in front of the taxi driver… let alone drink your blood.

“I promise you it’ll be safe.” Filthy liar. You’re pushing her right into the arms of the next monster. But there was another voice, too. Mine, it said. Mine. He wanted you so much it hurt—and he could already feel his fangs pressing against his gums painfully.

Next thing you knew he had already pushed you on the backseat of his car, his mouth coming crashing down on yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he climbed inside himself and shut the door. A silent click indicated he had locked it so you would be undisturbed.

Fighting for dominance he quickly was rewarded with, Adam’s tongue slipped between your lips, deepening the kiss. Eagerly, he devoured your body, his hands exploring your breasts and curves with bare palms, the gloves long abandoned. It only took him five minutes to undress you enough for him to feast his eyes on you—dark with lust and hunger when he took off his sunglasses.

“Adam, please…” Wriggling underneath him, right against that growing and impressive bulge in his black trousers, you reached for a condom in your bag—a pathetic reminder from your ex-boyfriend as he had loved quickies in public—and handed it to him. Adam took it without a word. Only reluctantly did he break the kiss to rip it open with his teeth all the while fumbling around with the buttons of his trousers to free his aching member. You gasped when you watched him roll the condom over, automatically spreading your legs further. You had never thought a cock beautiful before and yet… his was. Leaking precum already, you were both more than ready to forget reality for a bit.

Your nails dug into his shoulders when he bent down to bury his face in your neck, his tip pressing against your entrance which gave in with little resistance. Moaning in unison, he sheathed himself inside you to the hilt, your cunt moulding around him as if you had been made for one another.

Adam wasted no time. Gentleness was not what this was about anyway. You were tipsy and you needed a distraction, someone who would fuck you better than Jared. So why was your heart beating so fast when you looked into his dark eyes? You loved them… like you could gape right into his soul.

You held your breath when he started moving inside you, retreating almost entirely only to plunge back into you, fucking you senseless. His name spilled from your lips repeatedly—his fierce movements making your breasts bounce rhythmically along with his hips.

With every single thrust, he lured you closer and closer to an earth-shattering orgasm and fuck, the idea of making sex pleasurable for you too had never even struck Jared—your fingers did the job long after he had fallen asleep but Adam… Adam knew exactly how to pamper you with his cock.

“Mine…” He growled but you were too caught up in your own bliss than to realise the gravity of this one word. It only took a couple more thrusts for you to shatter into millions of tiny pieces underneath him, screaming his name as you came undone and let pleasure consume you whole. Your walls contracted around him repeatedly, milking him for all he was worth and making him groan. Adam stilled—it almost seemed like he was trying to climb right inside of you as he too climaxed, twitching and pulsing inside of you. In this very moment, it was a shame he was wearing a condom.

“I’m sorry…” He suddenly whispered, his hot breath ghosting over your neck.

“What are you… talking about?”

He did not need to answer. His response was a sharp pain as he bit you, two long fangs burying itself in your delicate skin. Squealing, you attempted to pull away when he began to suck the blood from the wound, moaning hungrily against you.

Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck! Was he a freak after all? What kind of man bit and licked up your blood after sex? But then again… what kind of man had fangs in the first place? Panicking, you flung your arms about, desperate to push him away—because what scared even more was that you were beginning to enjoy it.

“Adam… Adam, please, stop!”

You did not know why he listened or why he stopped himself from drinking you dry there and then. A red trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth when he retreated, his pale face both scary and fascinating in the dark.

“Oh my God… that’s… that’s why you decided to help me! Why you offered me to buy a drink! God… I would have been fine with being a one night stand… I mean… that’s what I had in mind. But you’re… you’re even worse than him! As if this day wasn’t bad enough already… a fucking vampire…”

“(Y/N)…” He murmured. It was an eerie mixture of both threatening and soothing.

“I’m leaving right now.” The words spilled from your mouth before you had even considered their meaning. Frantically and uncaring about your nakedness, you reached for the door handle in a desperate attempt to get out of that damn car but as you should have expected, it would not budge.

“Let me out, let me go!”

“You know I can’t let you leave anymore.”

What scared you the most was that it wasn’t the fact he was a vampire—it was the fact he had used your vulnerability to have you for supper like a bloody goat. And by the looks on his face, he was surprised about that too.

“I won’t tell anyone. Adam… don’t kill me. Please. Just let me go.” Perhaps it was the alcohol that made you this reckless and calm both at the very same time. Vampire. You should be screaming, crying, begging… why didn’t you? When you looked into his which were now, suddenly, returning to its seemingly natural colour—a beautiful blue—what you felt for the man who had just gifted you an amazing orgasm was anything but disgust. You… liked him. He had saved you. God, you were desperate.

“I won’t kill you.”

He wasn’t lying. Adam tilted his head. Of course he would not kill you. Yes, it’s what he had predicted would have to happen in case he did decide to feast on you and yet… mine. He wanted so much more. He wanted you. All of you… not just your blood. Fuck, what would Eve think about that? Him being this crazy about a bloody zombie? He had not thought about harbouring romantic feelings for another woman for years… not since she had died and now, here you were… a helpless mortal woman in his clutches, to do with as he pleased.

An incredible rush of adrenaline and power rushed through him when he realised you belonged to him now. He wanted you to stay. Only he had no idea how he would accomplish that now that he had abused your trust.

He never thought he would be grateful for your violent ex-boyfriend to show up again with two of his friends just then, exiting the club and looking around as if looking for someone. You.

Nervously, your gaze wandered over to them, suspicion and fear spreading in your guts. Fuck… what was worse? Being with a vampire whom you had incredible sex with… or facing your ex-boyfriend yet again? The latter you dreaded. Indecisively, you glanced back at Adam.

“I can drive you home.”

Fuck it. You were going to jump out of the frying pan into the fire. Nodding and wiping your neck with your bare hand. When you drew back, you fingers were covered in blood. “Thank you.”

You didn’t need to know just yet he had no intentions to leave you once you had arrived. He was a predator, after all.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story I would be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! kofi.com/sserpente

[randomstoriesofabunny]

Not today! Chapter 1

Summary: Steven Rogers was recruited to be a guardian angel after his death. His first assignment is Natasha Romanoff. So when a grim reaper tells him it’s time for him to let her go, he is adamant to protect her.

Words: 1230

Warnings: Attempt of murder. Car crash. Angst. Cursing. Stay safe!!

A/N: Hi! I’m writing this story for @redgillan writing challenge.

I hope you like it >w<

There are days when you don’t want to get up, but you have responsibilities to attend and objectives each day. The way we face each day and how our mood changes is affected by different events. Sometimes, a day can be perfect. Everything goes smoothly, and your day develops gracefully. It could be something so simple, yet, so fulfilling like arriving to your favorite coffee shop and buy the last muffin. Or it could be one of the most important days in your life when you get the promotion you worked so hard to achieve.

Unfortunately, there are days when everything goes wrong. Sometimes a day can be so horrible you just want to crawl back to bed and hide from the world. Your mind repeating the awful events like a broken record and thinking this must be a joke from the universe, a sick joke.  

That day was one of those days. Everything went wrong for Pietro Maximoff from the moment he woke up late because he didn’t hear his alarm. He rushed through the apartment he shared with his twin sister, looking for his car keys while cursing his bad luck.

Pietro was late in one the most important days in his life. He had an important sprint competition where a scholarship for college was at stake. Only if by a miracle he managed to arrive on time to the park where the competition will take place.

He found the keys next to a Tupperware with a note from his sister. In her beautiful handwriting she scribbled ‘good luck today’. He smiled and put away the lunch his twin sister made for him. He was technically older, but his baby sister always took care of him. He locked the door and took the stairs to the garage.

Pietro was frustrated and anxious, the traffic was slow, even with the shortcuts he took. But he was smart, he knew just because you are in a rush you had no right to break the rules. He learned by heart that yellow means caution and red means stop. Now, even when he was late for his competition he had to wait for the traffic light to change.

Red

“Come on! Change already,” he exclaimed while staring at the red light. He was so close, just three blocks away.

Green

“Yes!” he screamed excitedly and sped up two seconds after the traffic light changed its color, like he was in a car racing. Sadly, the other driver didn’t respect the traffic light and crashed with Pietro’s car.

I watched the collision of the silver Chevy and the black Sedan. An old red car behind the black sedan tried to avoid the collision only to crash into the wall of a building.

Just as it was predicted.

The noise attracted the attention from the pedestrians. They started to gather in the street to observe the accident. I could hear the sound of the ambulances and the police cars coming as fast as they could to the scene. As expected in this situation, someone must have called 911. People were watching the accident with horror, unable to look away.

The police officers started to cordon the area and force the people to back off so the paramedics could check the injured people and moved them to the hospital. I walked towards the black sedan, since normal people couldn’t see me. The man in the interior of the vehicle had blood on his face and I could see a broken cell phone in his lap. A sigh escaped from my lips.

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, my gaze fell on a tall man walking towards Pietro’s car. His purple hoodie covered his face, but I knew him. Hawkeye was his code name. We were assigned to this sector so it wasn’t uncommon for us to work together when we needed to collect many souls. The paramedics were working hard, trying to stop the bleeding in Pietro’s arm and neck but it was futile. He was gone.

My partner extended his hand and touched Pietro’s shoulder to extract his soul. A soft light surrounded his body and a small sphere of energy appeared over Pietro’s body before it changed its form to a Hawk. The soul flew in circles above Hawkeye’s head and perched over the traffic light. He nodded his head in greeting before walking towards the black sedan, he needed to collect the soul of the man that caused the accident. James Spader.

I walked towards the other side of the street, where the third car crashed with the wall of a store. The old lady behind the wheel didn’t suffer any injury, but I wasn’t interested in her.

Natasha Romanoff was the soul, I was supposed to collect today.

But her body wasn’t under the old lady’s car as it was predicted. I looked around, searching for her and my eyes widened when I saw her in the back of an ambulance with a paramedic trying to check her vitals. She was in shock and shaking under the blanket that covered her body. Other than that she was perfectly fine.

How? I thought and repeated the plan I developed for her.

I learned her routine a week before. She always went for a run and she took the same route every day. So, I made sure to force her to change the route. Leading her to this road for this precise moment.

A police officer approached her and started to ask her questions about the accident. The usual procedure. When she mumbled that she tripped a moment before the old lady ran over her I knew what happened.

I looked around, taking in the people watching behind the police tape. Then I saw him, his aura was unmistakable. A guardian angel.

A fucking guardian angel ruined my job. And the bastard had the audacity to look proud!

I approached him and grabbed him from the arm.

“What is your problem?” I demanded and he looked at me startled.

“I’m sorry?” he asked confused, “how can you see me?”

“I’m a grim reaper,” I snapped. Great! A rookie, I thought annoyed.

“Oh, well the car crash is over there,” he shrugged, pointing toward the cars.

I gritted my teeth. Un-fucking-believable. First, he ruined my assignment and now he had the nerve to tell how to do my job!

“She was supposed to die today!” I growled and pointed to the red haired woman in the ambulance.

“Nat? Why!” he asked, a frown on his brow.

“Because it’s her time”  

“But she’s still young! She doesn’t deserve to die,” he exclaimed, “and she didn’t have a nice life, she is an orphan since she was nine an-”

“Boo hoo, cry me a fucking river” I said and he scowled, “Look pal this isn’t your call I’ll come for her tomorrow. So, you better let me do my job”

I said and started to walk away, but a hand grabbed my wrist.

“No,” he said and glared at me.

“No?”

“You are not taking Natasha’s soul until she had a long and happy life”

“It’s her time! Her soul is mine, whatever you like it or not!”

Masterlist - Chapter 2

[whenimawakeandwhenimasleep]

Pynchweek 1: Something old, something new, something borrowed

Ronan marries Adam in early September. Surrounded by friends and what remains of Ronan’s family. It’s one of those autumn days when light stays really low and golden and shatters through the forest as pillars.

The lawn at the back of the main house is big enough to accommodate the few dozen of them. Good food and lanterns and fireflies for the night. Adam had voted down a show wrestling, but they had agreed to pizza. Just them and the people they love. Nothing big, nothing showy, no fuzz, no nerves. Ronan had been so highly strung in the morning that he vomited between shower and putting his suit on.

Traditions were trivial to them, in a monumental way. There was very little room for we-should-do’s and it’s-always-been-this-way’s in their relationship when everything about them was new and untried. Someone else would have called Ronan and Adam adrift and rootless, but they had more history in each other than most people spanned in their entire lifetimes. Too much magic to hide away to pay attention to long-established conventions. No extensive families to appease, not people left to judge them. Their whole life together had been a ritual. Reconfiguring it to please others would have been a forced mock-up - and Ronan Lynch did not lie nor did Adam Parrish yield to the will of others.

They had woken up together and had decided to spend every single moment that led to the ceremony that way. No jinxes about seeing your spouse in the wedding attire before the wedding. What were curses for impossible boys? What were curses after being possessed and almost unmade? So, they had dressed up together and Adam had done his tie. He, on his part, had ruined Adam’s styled hair by running his fingers through it.

Just before the ceremony, there is a shift in the reality. Like time starts slowly picking up speed. It moves and weaves and leaves Ronan completely winded, but he hangs on against the current. The whole noon becomes a series of shots in his mind, beautiful minutes that suspend in front of him. Adam’s calm smile as they say their vows. Their hands together when the justice of peace has spoken. Adam’s hands. His hands clammy. Adam’s soft lips. So many people looking at them that if he doesn’t hold on tighter to Adam, he might lose his breath. The extra cream wedding cake that he insisted on having, in hindsight a problematic choice considering that it’s impossible to cut without the cream bursting around the piece. Adam’s laugh, shockingly clear, chimes inside him.

It’s only when they dance that Ronan seems to be able to pull the brakes. They’re turning with the rhythm of the music and time slots itself in the right gear around them. He doesn’t want to look around and Adam makes it so easy for him. A couple of inches shorter than him, Adam tilts his head up and leans against Ronan’s cheek. Strong fingers stroke against his hairline and between the soft skin and rougher hands, he has no other choice but to keep his eyes on his husband. After some time, he feels how other people join them on the dance floor. Henry and Blue waltz by them, the first channeling his inner Astaire, while the latter flashes them a crude gesture. Ronan’s chest inflates gratefully and he blesses the short fucker. He takes the lead back in their dance for a second, just to bump into to the other pair. In his periphery, he can see Declan and Gansey shaking their heads in unison.

Dusk settles into the valley. Most of the pizza is gone and the cake is on the verge of crumbling down because their guests have decided to eat most of the base layer. Matthew is, if possible, even more exuberant than usual, but Declan has taken away his punch cup. The witches are getting on well with the Ganseys and Ronan can’t decide which of the clans has done more humbling.

He is sitting at their table and watching as Adam dances with Opal at the other end of the dance floor. Oddly mismatched dance partners, his husband in a crisp, well-fitted white shirt and their kid in a wispy, uneven tulle dress that billows around Adam’s waist as he holds her up in his arms. She shrieks loudly every time Adam spins her around, completely off beat. After the justice had married them, Ronan had foolishly thought that his heart couldn’t be crushed into smaller pieces than it was then. But watching his two people twirling and laughing, he feels how his chest falls into amazing stardust that flies to his lungs like gun powder and sets his throat burning.

To push back the burning so that it won’t reach his eyes, Ronan plays with a piece of cake on the plate in front of him. It’s half-eaten and doesn’t have whipped cream on it. After Opal emerging, they haven’t taken any cake or cookies themselves; she tends to open Oreos and lick the filling or peel the cream of the cake and then dump the rests unceremoniously in front of them. He complains a lot about it and Adam never complains about it, so no wonder why the kid hasn’t learnt not to do it. What would he really do? Ronan has a sneaky feeling that  the rests are Opal’s own way of expressing love.

He is startled out of his thoughts when a firm arm entwines around him from behind.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Adam rests his chin on his shoulder and watches, just like him, as Blue and Calla dance their wild version of Salty Dog Rag. The air is warm and a bit humid and Ronan can feel how Adam’s sweat clings on his skin. He tries not to think how good it would feel like to trace it away with his tongue.

Instead, he leans back against his husband.

“Don’t get fucking desperate, not with your pay grade”, he retorts back and loosens his tie with his free hand.

“Gansey wanted to talk to you. He was beckonin’, but you didn’t look.” Across the floor, Gansey picks up his cardigan from the back of his chair and looks at him with fire in his eye. Sappy-happy occasions tend to bring out the younger, boyish Gansey out. “Suppose he wants to give brotherly advice to you and take you for a last ride before our trip.”

Whatever advice there ever was to give to him, Gansey gave it when they lived together. After his decision to quit school, Gansey stopped giving him advice and started asking him questions. No, this is Adam giving him a breather, a moment to gather his thoughts with his bestman.

Ronan gets up and turns around. He married a man who understands him wholly, who knows how overwhelming these things get to him, recognises when he needs to count to zero. He couldn’t have gotten luckier than he did and so he leans down against Adam’s lips and whispers: “Thanks, asshat.”

“Don’t stay away too late. We’ve got to say goodbye to these people in good time. And we’ve got a date tomorrow.”

“Jesus… Didn’t I just marry you so that I don’t have to date you?”

“Well, you should’ve picked someone who’s not so high maintenance”, Adam says with a dry smile and scratches Ronan’s sides gently through his shirt.

“Thought you’re the maintenance in this relationship.”

“Mmmm, am not, if that leaves you in charge.” With that, his husband pushes him towards their friend and taps his watch as a reminder. They move closer to where the cars are parked, him backing and Adam strolling slowly forward. Distance is nothing but a force between them, an unbreakable cord that resonates with each step. It’s been tested and tried a thousand times when they were younger. There’s a decided, calm authority in Adam that ignites the dust inside him.

“You didn’t tell me where we’re going tomorrow”, he shouts as he climbs into Blue’s car. Before he slams the door closed, he sees Adam shrug slightly with a winning smile. What an asshole.

Next day, he gets to drive them all the way to countryside near Charlottesville. Adam signs him to pull up to the side of the road and they switch drivers. Their night and morning had been unhurried, but filled with evident desperation. Still he feels a tight, hot pull in his insides when Adam floors the pedal cocksure and steers them to a smaller road.

The last town was miles ago and they’ve passed very few cars on their way. Guess they are the only ones dumb enough to get up so early. None of the fields or the forest look familiar to him, but then again, Ronan never drove this route north when Adam was studying.

“Care to tell me now where we’re going”, he says as he looks from the forest to his husband. To anyone else, it would seem like he is concentrating on driving. Keeping his eyes on the road, one hand languidly on the steering wheel and one leaning bent on the window. The problem is that Adam doesn’t need to concentrate when he drives. There’s not much difference between their ways of driving. He takes risks, while Adam calculates and then takes risks. All the same, the speed meter whines miserably every time either of them has an open road ahead.

“Nope”, his husband says and pops the final sound, just to annoy him.

Adam is nervous. As a rule, Ronan doesn’t want to face anything that makes a man like Adam nervous.

After thirty minutes, they pull up to a parking lot in front of a church. ‘Parking lot’ is stretching it, as the lot is mostly just gravel and patches of grass here and there. The building itself is small, dirty white, constantly apologising to the empty countryside surrounding it. Catholic, Ronan’s mind adds helpfully. Catholic, despite Ronan’s many problems with the institution, still mean family to him. Home. Faith. His faith and the faith of his parents and brothers.

“Take your jacket”, Adam says shortly when they get out. Ronan’s mind has yet to move forward from the thought of religion. In all honesty, he had thought they would drive to a bigger city to spend the night, but Adam had only told him to take his suit with him. Opal stayed behind at the Barns with Declan and Matthew.

As they climb the few steps to the open church door, Ronan sees that the father is already waiting for them. Adam greets him warmly and politely, so much like Gansey in his pleasantness, so much like himself in his frankness. Ronan takes the hand the older man offers, feeling helplessly puzzled.

“Well, then, Ronan. Would you like confess before we move to the blessing and the communion?”

There is nothing but stillness in him. It’s a sleeplike daze, the feeling he gets when he tries to wake up but he’s taking something with him from the dreams. They had asked the local parrishes for a Catholic blessing, but all of them had turned down a couple like them. It had hurt like hell, but Ronan had put it all in driving and working. Didn’t want to keep mourning it, because there was nothing to be done. It wasn’t even Adam’s religion, and his religion had rejected him.

Now here he is, in a quiet church, on his way to a confessional. He looks back at Adam who sits calmly in the pews and there’s a lightness inside him. It was there yesterday, when he said “I do” in front of the justice, but this feels refined. Collected. It’s not picking up speed, it lulls, swells. Mary looks upon them from her altar behind his husband and Ronan thinks of his mother.

The confession goes as it always has gone. There’s a lot to tell and he has to give a director’s cut of it, mostly because there’s too much magic and petty sins involved. He doesn’t need to confess any impure thoughts anymore, hasn’t done it in years and now confessing feels like it should feel. It’s a burden being lifted off, secrets poured out. It’s strange how Ronan has been finding his way back to his faith after he and Adam happened.

Afterwards, Adam confesses as well. It takes more time, which Ronan spends lying on a pew. The priest walks his husband through the process but the extra time spent in the confessional is no doubt due to Adam’s pedantic “leave no stone unturned” mentality. Once told to confess, there’s not a small filing cabinet he won’t open. There are vaults there, inside Adam’s head, that are only privy to Ronan; steel-walled and tucked nicely behind a system of locks that have been opened one by one over the years. Some of them, the most vulnerable ones, are still behind mazes and Ronan looks up the serene face of Mother Mary and promises that he will spend all his life guarding those.

The blessing, just like the confession, goes like it always goes. Just like the communion. But this time Ronan is present. He sees not only minutes, but seconds of it. Hears every word he says and hears every word Adam says. There’s no current, just him and his husband kneeling on the altar, the warmth of it all washing through him. The body of Christ and the blood of Christ are heavy on his tongue. Adam looks at him, a bit unsure, over the brim of the cup. To ask if this is what he wanted. If Adam had read him correctly. If this was what was missing. Ronan wants to scream out all the warmth that’s nestling next to his heart.

Outside the church, they thank the father, Ronan now more talkative than what he was when they arrived. The father tells Ronan to visit the mass despite his differences with the local church and wishes Adam to take part in the tradition of weekly mass, as well. Adam smiles sweetly and politely, even though that Ronan knows Sunday mornings to be Adam’s own time which won’t be spent worshipping God.

They look at each quietly as they get in the car.

“Where did you find out about him? That he was cool with, you know?” Ronan says and he feels how his throat begins to constrict shut around the vowels. There’s a lot inside now, has been since yesterday and he just hasn’t got it out yet.

Adam looks down and plays with his wedding ring, with Blimblim as Opal fondly refers to it after mishearing Blue’s name for the dream-made band.

“Well, there’s internet, you know?” Adam’s words get a longer quality, a hushed nasality that emerges when he is doubting or sad or angry. Ronan is so full of love for the man in front of him that he can barely take full breaths in. It’s like there’s no vacancy and his body is choosing Adam over oxygen. That hardly surprises him.

Adam leans  forward to turn the key in the ignition, a faint ashamed blush on his cheeks and his neck, but Ronan throws his jacket and tie on the backseat and himself at his husband. They smash against the driver’s side door, hands desperately grasping each other’s sides and neck. There’s a low murmur that escape Adam’s lips and Ronan can feel how they turn into a smile against him.

“We’re not going to make out in front of a priest”, Adam tells him breathily and shoves him away. Ronan leans in to give him one last peck and kicks the door open.

“Why not? We’ve done worse in a church. Now let me drive to the Barns.”

Ronan burns most of his adrenaline away when he drives them back. When he slides their car to an abrupt full-stop in front of the main house, he’s settled down and ready to talk when the time comes.

The time doesn’t come straightaway. In fact, it takes many hours and a family dinner until they’re left alone. Opal wants her time at the center of their attention and Declan and Matthew stay the night to eat yesterday’s leftovers. Between pizza and old cake, Ronan tells Declan quietly where they spent the better part of the day. It’s a sobering emotion, having that talk with his older brother. They have had their share of fights and animosity and distrust, a youth spent in raw misunderstanding. But when it comes to this, there is no one else Ronan would want to talk to. Declan understands the importance of what happened in the church. When Adam, Matthew and Opal commandeer their strangely private conversation, Declan lays his hand on his neck. It’s heavy in pride and feels home, just like the communion wine. Ronan will never tell his brother this.

After everyone else has gone to bed, Adam and Ronan stay outside on the porch. And that’s when he can begin to explain it.

Ronan talks of his disappointment and shame when the priest in Henrietta had turned them down and his silent desperation when the priest in the next town over had done the same. How he had visited his old thoughts that made him sick sometimes. Thoughts that told him that loving men was wrong. Adam lies in his arms on the couch and squeezes his hand.

Then he also reaches inside himself and brings out everything that went through his head in front of that priest. How it fits together with everything that happened in front of the justice. And how nothing would have been worse if Adam had not arranged that, but how it would have been different for him. How happy he was yesterday and how happy he is today. It’s more talk of emotions that he is usually capable of but after all the trouble, Adam deserves to hear it.

In his turn, Adam tells Ronan how he is a damned idiot for thinking that Adam wouldn’t see the hurt. How he looked and reached out to the gay communities in the state to find a Catholic priest who would bless their marriage. He didn’t do it in the fear of Ronan being unhappy with the wedding and he didn’t do it so that he could be reassured of his importance to Ronan. Those days are long, long gone. No more fear, no more uncertainty. He did it because it means a lot to Ronan.

Being known and being understood has always been synonymous with being loved in their relationship. Sometimes it requires work, a conscious effort to decode actions and put words in the right order. But Ronan knows it’s what they vowed to do for the rest of their lives.

Adam’s hand burn on his arm, like an echo of those vows. A hum that arises from their bones and core. Ronan bows down to kiss his husband and breathes in that sound, knowing it will never stop resounding.

Their wedding song:

Heal / Tom Odell

[itmakesyoulooklikealoser]

Pynch Week 2017 Day 7: Road Trip

“Who the fuck are you?” Ronan snarled at the dusty haired boy getting out of the car.

“I’m your Uber drive, Adam.” the boy gave Ronan a questioning look, “You did call an Uber didn’t you? Are you Ronan?”

Ronan looked past Adam to the car behind him.

“I’m not getting in that piece of shit.” Ronan gave the car, if you could call it that, a disgusted look.

“Seriously? I drove all the way here to pick you up. It’s not my fault you didn’t read the confirmation where it showed what type of car I drive. You could have canceled. It’s too late now. Get in.” Adam turned to walk to the driver’s side of his mutt of a car, conversation apparently over.

Ronan stared after Adam, silently admiring his courage to talk to him the way he did. Most people took one look at Ronan, a danger sign in human form, and shied away from confrontation. Ronan liked that Adam didn’t. He liked the fight he saw in the boy. This was going to be an interesting ride.

The only reason Ronan needed an Uber was because his transmission had blown and it was currently being replaced. Which meant Ronan had no car for a few days and he needed to get to the Barns to check on his mom. Gansey wouldn't let him borrow the Pig and there was no way he was going to ask Declan to drive him, so here he was, getting into the passanger’s seat of an oddly attractive stranger’s piece of shit car. He quickly prayed that they wouldn’t break down on the way there.

Adam asked where he was headed and Ronan told him the address. Adam pulled out an ancient Tom Tom and attached it to the window and entered the address. The robotic voice filled the car with directions.

Ronan sat in awkward silence the first few minutes of the drive. Normally he didn't mind not having to participate in small talk, but the silence was deafening. The only noise was the sound of the car engine struggling to keep up and the cars passing by. Ronan reached towards the radio and was surprised to find that nothing happened when he turned the dial.

“Shit. Are you fucking serious? You radio doesn’t work?”

Adam glanced at the radio as he answered in a cool tone, “No, but the tape deck works if you want to turn that on.”

Ronan stared at Adam in disbelief. Did they even make cassette tapes anymore? Where had this kid come from?

“I thought Uber drivers were supposed to have nice, functional cars. That’s how you get good ratings and assignments, isn’t it?” Ronan wasn’t very familiar with the ins and outs of Ubers, but he was pretty certain that getting a good rating was a big deal and he just didn’t understand how Adam could possibly have gotten good ratings with this car.

Ronan could see Adam roll his eyes before he answered.

“Look. I know my car isn't the greatest, but I give good customer service. I arrive on time, I drive safe, and I’m polite. Some people don’t care what the car looks like as long as the drive is pleasant.”

“Polite?” Rona scoffed, “If that was you being polite, I’d hate to see you when you are impolite.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. I’m polite when the customer isn't a complete asshole from the get-go.”

Ronan barked out a laugh and turned the tape deck on. Country music filled the car. Ronan grimaced and turned the music back off.

“The fuck kind of music is that?”

“There are other cassettes in the glovebox,” Adam huffed, “or we can just sit in silence. I wouldn't mind.”

Ronan opened the glovebox and pulled out the two other tapes to examine them. Each tape had been hastily scrawled on in near unreadable script. The first tape was labeled classical and the other pop. Ronan threw them back into the glovebox and groaned.

“You have terrible taste in music.” Ronan pointed out to Adam.

“That is not my taste in music. That is the general public’s taste in music. I don't listen to music so I don't have a “taste” in music.” Adam answered plainly.

“Wait, are you being serious? You don’t listen to music?” Ronan was appalled. He loved his music, it had helped him through some rough times. He didn’t know what he would do if he didn't have his music.

“Yes I’m being serious. I don’t have the time or money it requires to listen to music.”

“Money? They make apps where you can listen to music for free, man.”

“Well, that would require to have a phone that can support those apps, which costs money. My phone barely have enough storage space for the Uber app.”

The rest of the ride to the Barns passed in similar conversation. Ronan would make a rude comment and Adam would come back with either an extremely placid response or would sass him. Ronan preferred when Adam pushed back, so he made it his mission to rile Adam up as much as he could without getting kicked out of the car.

When they arrived at the Barns Ronan asked Adam if he could wait outside for him. He only needed a few minutes to check on his mom. It’s not like he actually had to do anything for her, he just felt better if he checked on her regularly. Adam had reluctantly agreed with a heavy sigh of annoyance.

Ronan made his way back to the car once he had checked on his mom and saw that nothing had changed. When he arrived at the car Adam wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Ronan looked around wildly, trying to find his missing Uber driver. There were a lot of things at the Barns that weren’t easily explained away.

Ronan turned in a wide circle trying to spot Adam’s dusty hair. He walked around the side of the house and let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding when he saw Adam standing under a weeping willow tree. Adam had his head tilted back, staring up through the branches of the tree. The sunlight was streaming through the branches in broken streams, wrapping Adam in a surreal glow.

Ronan was entranced by how calm and at peace Adam looked standing beneath the tree, like he belonged there. Ronan could feel his heart speed up at that thought. He tried to will it to slow, tried to push the thought from his mind before it fully formed, but he was too late.

Adam dropped his head back down and turned towards Ronan, a peaceful smile on his face. When his eyes met Ronan’s they widened in surprise.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I thought you'd be longer.” Adam rushed to explain.

It took a minute for Ronan to gather his thoughts. His mind was still stuck on how beautiful Adam had looked moments before.

“I fucking told you I’d only be a minute. I didn't say you could go on a fucking adventure across my property.”

Ronan cursed himself at how harsh he had been. He hadn’t meant to be, it was a reflex. Whenever he started to feel any emotion he couldn’t handle, he immediately shut down and reverted to anger. He wasn’t necessarily angry at Adam, just at how Adam was making him feel. He hated not having control over his feelings, and suddenly he felt his emotions towards Adam overflowing chaotically.

Ronan had always been all or nothing with his emotions, and how he resented it now. Something that should have been a simple crush, merely physical attraction, exploded and spread like wildfire through Ronan. Ronan turned abruptly, not allowing himself to see the hurt flash across Adam’s face, and stopped off towards the car, not checking to see if Adam was following.

The drive back to Monmouth was tense. Adam kept glancing over at Ronan and opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, but decided against it and snapped it shut. Ronan did his best to keep his attention on the scenery flying by outside the passenger side window, but kept catching himself turning towards Adam.

When they parked at Monmouth neither moved. Adam sat fiddling with the steering wheel and Ronan was staring through the front windshield.

“I’m sorry for…” they both started at the same time. They turned to look at each other, both telling the other to go first.

Adam took a deep breath and tried again.

“I’m sorry for wondering through your property. You were right, I shouldn’t have gotten out to explore. I honestly don’t know why I did. I just felt pulled towards the tree, it was strange.” Adam had adverted his eyes and was rubbing the back of his neck.

Ronan’s immediate reaction was to make a smart ass comment, but stopped himself, remind himself he wasn’t actually mad at Adam. He did his smoker’s breath before he answered.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I overreacted. I wasn’t actually mad at you.” Ronan cringed slightly, hoping Adam didn’t ask what he was actually mad at. He didn’t lie and if asked he would be forced to evade or answer honestly.

Adam visibly relaxed, shoulder’s slumping forward.

“So you’re not gonna give me a terrible rating?” Adam asked, looking slightly embarrassed.

Ronan was glad that Adam wasn’t focusing on the why he was mad, but felt a little offended that that’s what Adam was worried about.

“No, loser. I’ll give you a good review so long as you promise not to force people to listen to your shitty music anymore.” Ronan tried to lighten to mood a little.

Adam smiled and let out a huff of laughter. “Deal. Now get out of my car.”

Ronan watched as Adam drove away. He felt a smile tugging at his lips. He pulled out his phone and logged into his Uber account. The bill for Adam’s Uber was there, he tapped it and added a tip and hit submit. He gave Adam a five-star overall rating. Ronan chuckled when he saw the option to give Adam a badge. He selected the “Awesome Music” and “Cool Car” badge and assigned them, he figured Adam would get a good laugh out of that. Just as he was about to log out of his account a notification popped up. He clicked on it and was shocked to see that Adam had rated him as a passenger. When he saw the rating his heart stopped. Adam had rated him 5 stars.

[pausedintime-blog]

Whole Lotta Love, Chapter Two

Twelve hadn’t heard from Clara in weeks, not one text or phone call. He was confused, did she not like him? Everybody liked him, every woman he met liked him. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen for them…

He slowly drank his beer, sitting in his best friend’s bar as he pushed the empty bottle of beer her way, ‘Another bottle, Missy…’

Clara still hadn’t forgiven Amy for accidentally smudging Twelve’s number. She’d spent more time than she cared to admit trying to figure out the number, and yet she’d only managed four out of the ten numbers. Maybe it was the universe giving her a sign to stay away from him… She took one last look at herself in the mirror, approved of her makeup and groaned at the thought of going on this blind date Amy had set up for her. Amy didn’t give her any specifics except the address to the bar. Twelve had told Eleven about Clara and her choice not to call or text him and he managed to drop himself right in it and now he found himself sat at the bar his bandmate had forced him to come to. Apparently, they were both going on a date, a double date. Only, the woman didn’t know who she was going on a date with and Twelve didn’t have a clue who she was either but he was certain, she couldn’t live up to Clara and now he found himself brooding over the tiny brunette.

Clara took a glance around the bar, it seemed decent to say the least. She couldn’t make out who she was supposed to be on this date with, so she opted for sitting at the bar. A rather deranged looking woman walked up to her from behind the bar, ‘What will it be, darling?’ she said, her Scottish accent thick.

Clara looked at her, telling her to surprise her. Minutes went by and Clara started to think she had been stood up. After a couple of minutes and four beers in, Twelve noticed a rather delicate voice from beside him. Hold on… Was that? He immediately turned his body, almost falling off the stool when he saw her.

‘Clara…’ he rasped, feeling the air knocked out of him as he stared at the beautiful woman in front of him.

This had to be the universe, pulling them together… Right? She was here for a reason.

‘Keep the change,’ she said, standing to pull her coat on. She was livid to say the least, she’d never been stood up before, and now she had.

She pushed her hands into her coat pockets, getting ready to leave when she heard her name. Clara turned on her heels, her jaw dropping, ‘Twelve?’ she asked, a little bit confused.

What was he doing here?

Her anger seemed to disappear as she reached out to hold him up, scrunching up her nose when she smelt the Whiskey on his breath. His aftershave and the stench of alcohol overpowered in her nostrils.

‘Come on now, Granddad… Time we ordered you a cab,’ she teased, helping him sit back down on the bar stool.

Twelve grumbled, almost tipping over onto his back once she helped him sit back down on the bar stool, ‘Not a Granddad,’ he muttered, unable to contain his smile upon seeing her again. How could a woman be so perfect?

He stood up again, ‘I’m not even drunk,’ he insisted, taking a glass of Whiskey from Missy as he downed it in one, ‘See, not a lightweight, at all!’

In truth, he hadn’t drank a drop for two years straight after his mental break down, but he wasn’t about to mention that to Clara.

Clara chuckled, her heart racing in his presence, ‘Oh, really?’ she said, plucking out a grey hair as she handed it to him with a smirk.

She watched him down the glass of Whiskey, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. For a flicker of a moment, she imagined sinking her teeth into his neck, but thought better of it.

She shuffled in her seat, ordering another shot for herself, ‘Shouldn’t you be on tour?’ she said, sending him a wink.

Twelve nodded, ‘I should,’ he slurred, clearing his throat as he ordered another Whiskey, ‘But…’ he trailed off, closing his eyes to try and remember why he was there.

‘I – I’m supposed to be on a double date, but my date doesn’t know it’s me… Eleven’s supposed to be here with his date, but I don’t know where the fuck he has gotten to either,’

Twelve nodded, his head dropping in disappointment that Clara wasn’t his blind date. He took a deep breath and sulked at the bar, drinking glass after glass. After a while, finally, it clicked and he ran after her. He almost stumbled over his own feet before he found her standing outside, waiting for a Taxi.

‘Wait!’ he called out, not realising the photos being taken of him as he stumbled towards Clara and grabbed hold of her.

‘You’re my date… Eleven set us up,’

Clara cocked her brow, slightly confused as the blinding lights of the cameras surrounded them. Clara held him up, her hands gripping onto the side of his body, ‘I think you’re drunk…’ she teased, pulling him into the nearest cab.

She instructed the Taxi driver to drive around the block a few times, ‘Why would he set us up? How? He doesn’t even know me, does he?’ she asked, still managing to hold onto him.

Clara had to admit, he felt nice pressed up against her like this, his whole weight on top of her, his boyish grin almost charming.

Twelve cleared his throat and slipped fifty quid to the Taxi driver, telling him his address and hoping he’d keep his mouth shut after the bribe. He blushed, his heart racing as he reached down to rest his hand protectively on her thigh.

‘He does know you,’ Twelve slurred, trying to sit himself up but instead he slumped back down against Clara, his head spinning.

‘I told him about you,’

Clara tried hard to ignore his hand on her thigh, his touch sending a spark of electricity straight between her thighs. Clara shuffled about on her seat, he was a thin man, but insanely heavy for her small stature. She almost missed his confession. Had he been thinking about her since the concert?

A soft smirk crossed her lips as she held his head up, ‘Have you now? I’m sure you’ve painted me out to be an angry, bossy midget.’ She teased, watching as they came to a halt in front of his house.

Once he realised they were outside his huge mansion, he stumbled out of the door, having already paid the Taxi driver. He somehow managed to open Clara’s door and led her towards his home, his hand respectively on the small of her back, having not noticed the Taxi driver snapping photos of them. Twelve smiled down at her, missing the keyhole a few times but eventually, he got the door open.

The two of them piled inside, he was finally able to answer her question, ‘No, I painted you to be quite lovely and very, very pretty… he agreed,’

Clara was trying so hard not to giggle at his obvious drunken stupor. Instead, she helped him inside his rather large home, he definitely was a rock star if the expensive decorations were anything to go by. She stopped mid stride as she turned to look at him. Did he really just call her pretty?

‘Did he now? Does he fancy me?’ she mused, helping him into his living area.

‘He was rather cute…’ she teased, taking off her coat as she revealed the skin tight dress she was wearing.

Twelve snorted, trying to take off his jacket as he spun around on the spot and almost fell over before he regained his balance, ‘Nope,’ he muttered, popping the ‘P’ as he looked her up and down, it wasn’t a possessive or lustful look, more of an admiration of the woman in front of him.

‘He has fancied River for years… I’m not really sure why he keeps taking your friend out on dates,’

Clara couldn’t help but chuckle as she noticed his failed attempt at taking off his jacket. She walked over to him, nudging him to stand on his feet, but he simply slumped backwards onto the sofa behind him.

Clara groaned, lifting her dress off of the ground as she straddled Twelve’s lap, slowly pushing his jacket off of his shoulders, ‘You’re a drunk mess,’ she teased, cupping his face carefully.

‘Liar, you’re such a lightweight,’ she mused, about to get up and move from him.

Twelve groaned like a teenaged boy, grabbing at her waist as he pulled Clara back on top of him, ‘So pretty,’ he murmured, appreciating her weight on top of him, his face dropping into the curve of her neck.

‘Beautiful Clara,’ he mumbled and seconds later, his face was pressed into her breasts, his snoring quite evident.

Clara suppressed a moan as he pressed himself against her, her heart began to race, ‘Twelve,’ she breathed, starting to say something before she heard him snoring.

‘Charming,’

Clara hopped off of him and draped a blanket over his sleeping form, she cursed as she realised she’d forgotten her phone at the bar. She figured he wouldn’t mind if she stayed the night. Clara roamed the enormous mansion, it seemed he had a room for every hobby. She came upon two large wooden oak doors, pushing through and marvelled at what seemed to be the master bedroom. The sheets were red statin, she quickly shimmed out of her dress before passing out on his bed.