#he’s only eaten candy for two weeks now

[foofyarts]

Everything I touch will become piñata, this is a threat :3

Anyways get patterned idiot

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader) masterlist

-

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves. 

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur. 

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches. 

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen. 

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste. 

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it. 

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break. 

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him. 

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids. 

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard. 

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse. 

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed. 

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold. 

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand. 

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh. 

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet. 

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off. 

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock. 

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires. 

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too. 

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though. 

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny. 

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

[takenbypeter]

Chocolate Fixes Everything

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 1179

Sick fic for Willy Wonka, made this cause I’m sick again and I’ve become sick so often these past few months 🙃

Accepting requests for Willy only right now send me any requests plz I’m on a Wonka high rn

You couldn’t believe it. Your throat was itchy, your nose was sore. You could barely get past fifteen minutes without a horrendous cough flying out from the back of your throat. Your nose was stuffed and if it wasn’t stuffed, it was runny, which is why you kept a box of tissues close by. It wasn’t the fact you were sick that you couldnt believe, it was the fact that you were sick only a mere weeks ago and here you were, ill again. Typically this didn’t happen to you but recently it seemed like your immune system was against you, (maybe it was because of all the chocolate you had eaten recently but who knows).

While many of your friends had got the message of your sickness it seems like Willy wasn’t one of them.

“You wouldn’t believe the idea that just popped into my head!” Wonka shouted as he practically tossed your door open, your eyes shot wide as you suddenly became fully alert at the abrupt activity.

Willy on the other hand walked right past your bed which was positioned on the opposite side of the door, with his mind clearly focused on whatever his new idea was.

“Noodle and I were discussing and she had just reminded me of—“ his words were cut off and his upbeat pacing came to a halt when he finally realized you were still in bed.

His expressions seemed to relay curious, then sadness as his facial lines deepened. Without missing a beat he pulled up the wooden chair nearby. “What happened? You look horrible.”

A knowing smile tugged at your lips while you pulled your blanket further to your chin, “gee thanks, that’s just what everyone wants to hear when they’re sick.”

“You’re sick!? No that can’t be, I remember you being sick only two weeks ago.”

You nod acknowledging the fact while his face shifts into surprised? Or maybe excitement…? Stunned? It seemed like all of the above.

“Well you’re in luck,” he exclaimed scooting himself back towards the desk across the room, setting up his small briefcase factory on the table, “because I have something that’ll make you feel right as rain,” he stops tinkering with his case for a brief moment to shoot you a mischevious look, “chocolate rain.”

You rolled your eyes while he turned right around whipping a concoction together.

“Willy, I love your enthusiasm but chocolate can’t just make everything feel better.”

“Says who? Who says?”

“Medical doctors that’s who!”

“Oh doctors schmoctors,” he waves the concern off.

“Chocolate does fix everything. And this isn’t just regular old chocolate.”

Attention grabbed, you watch peculiarly as he pushes buttons and pours things in different areas of his case.

“Last time you got sick you felt awful for practically a week and a half, and I started making this since then,” his briefcase makes whirring noises as it gets to work mixing the ingredients. “Now let me ask you, what do you typically take when you have a sore throat?”

“A spoonful of honey with lemon?” You ask, unsure if that was the answer he was looking for, I mean many people do a variety of things once sick, but you took a shot in the dark anyway.

“Absolutely. But that feeling only lasts for a short time. But with this candy I designed, it lasts far, far longer.”

The machine stops and out pops a single candy, shaped simple and evenly square, as green as a lime. And with that candy in hand he returns back to you across the room.

“This is a Choc-well, because as soon as you eat it you’ll feel well,” you gave him an odd look, “the name hasn’t been hashed out yet.”

He motions for you to open your hand and he drops the small piece in your palm, to which you look at suspiciously. “It’s chocolate?”

“Yes. The outer layer is a milk chocolate, while the inside is a honey like substance from the Beezle-midge. And then inside that, is a tiniest drop of twang from a lime.”

“Beezle-midge?”

“It’s a small type of insect that usually travels in groups, except when separated and given the right incentive it secretes honey.”

You winced grossed out by the fact, “ew.”

“It’s good, trust me. Now try it.”

With one final motivating look from the boy you took the chocolate and popped it in your mouth.

“If you want it to really work suck on the chocolate, don’t chew,” he instructed just as you were about to take the first bite. But you did as told enjoying the chocolate. Little by little the chocolate layer disappeared into your mouth as the honey started to make its way to the front and Willy watched on as you ate the delicacy.

After a few moments of honey came the tiniest twang of flavor just as he said and just like that the candy was gone.

“So, how does it feel?” He asks and for a moment you’re not sure what he’s asking for.

“How does your throat feel?”

You oh-ed before closing your mouth in thought. The taste was on its way out but your throat felt much better, it no longer hurt from soreness and you didn’t feel any itchiness no or scratchiness.

“It feels…normal! Like it doesn’t even hurt. That’s amazing! How does that happen?”

“The honey from the Beezle-midge as it’s going down puts a small coat along your throat which lasts practically a whole day.”

“That’s splendid Willy, truly astounding!” You praise sitting up in bed. True you still had your other symptoms but at least you didn’t have to worry about your throat or coughing for now. Willy displayed a bashful smile at the compliments that he took to heart.

“Why didn’t you give this to me last time?” You asked curious as to why he just let you suffer, surely it couldn’t be just cause he forgot.

“Well actually…” he tilts his head back and forth before continuing, “you being sick last time is kind of the inspiration for it.”

This was not a new thing, Willy used many different people and experiences as inspiration, but he suddenly felt so shyly in telling you about yourself being his inspiration. Why? Was it because he didn’t know how you were going to react? He knew you would react well of course, you always did when it came to his creations.

“You made this…” you pointed to air essentially now that the chocolate was gone, “because of me?”

He nodded modestly, “last time you got sick, you missed out on a lot, and we missed you a lot in the factory.”

You grinned a toothy grin, “aww that’s sweet, and this chocolate is so cool!”

At your exclaim he felt relief, “good, I’m glad it’s working.”

That made you pause, “glad it’s working? What does that mean? You haven’t tested it before?” You asked worried.

“That’s not what I meant, geez. You do that one time,” he mumbled as he went back to his small briefcase factory.

[gaywarcriminals]

Bby siren SJ & spoiled kid SY 

I cleaned up a ficlet from a sprint I did with @danmeichael while ago! Cw implied murder & cannibalism (none depicted, just normal siren stuff)

"My parents said I'm not supposed to get in the water," The young human— Shen Yuan, he called himself— explained with patience but no small amount of self-importance, as though Shen Jiu was the one being difficult and the human was being the bigger person by humoring him. 

"I can't play on land" Shen Jiu said with a put-upon pout, flicking his tail above water-- the small, short glimpses of his shiny scales were usually enough to beckon the human children closer. They were, in all honesty, usually quite easy to trick. Safer, too– even if humans were softer and weaker, Shen Jiu was still far too small to over-power an adult. When it had been the two of them, he and Qi-ge had been able to catch larger prey, but now– well now, Shen Jiu had to look out for himself, and that meant smaller kills, even if he had to venture much much closer to shore than he would have liked.

“We could, um,” the human paused, “I guess you can’t have games or books underwater…” he trailed off for a moment, before his face lit up with a charming smile. “I can read to you! I can read chapter books now,” the boy said with great aplomb, as though it should mean anything to Shen Jiu, “wait here, I’ll go get one from my parents!”

"NO!" Shen Jiu cried out. If the boy left, there was no guarantee he would return, or worse, he might come back with his kin trailing behind him. Shen Jiu hadn't eaten in weeks; he couldn't allow this chance to slip through his fingers.

Shen Yuan blinked at him, and then sat back down on the rocks, his cross legs out of reach of the lapping waves. Still not close enough for Shen Jiu to drag him under before the other humans heard his screams. Then, miraculously, and without any further beckoning the boy leaned closer. Shen Jiu's body tensed, tracking the movement, waiting for the boy to reach an angle where gravity would do most of the work to send him toppling into the waves.

"Are you lonely?" Shen Yuan whispered. 

Shen Jiu jolted. "What-?" The anger was immediate and instinctive. He snapped his teeth. His hand jerked up, but no, the human was still too far from the edge, from Shen Jiu, all Shen Jiu was doing was flagging his intentions as plainly as a whale, like an idiot--

"Hey, that's-" annoyance flickered over the boy’s face, and for a second Shen Jiu thought he had caught on, that he would run, and Shen Jiu too would have to flee, wasting more of his energy with a failed hunt– but then Shen Yuan was once again the picture of a young lord. The boy cleared his throat. "I mean, you don't have to be embarrassed. I would be upset too if I had no brothers or gameboy," he said with the air of someone delivering sage wisdom. 

Shen Jiu blinked. “Yes,” he repeated, perhaps unconvincingly, “I’m very sad without a ‘game-boy’ or… my brother.” he finished with a whisper. Shen Yuan nodded sympathetically. 

“Ah!” His eyes widened and then curved, sparkling in the midday sun. He shoved a hand into his clothes and dug around, before pulling out some kind of small white and blue object. 

“Da-ge always gives me milk candy when I fall and skin my knee. It’ll cheer you up!” He explained, dropping the thing towards the water. 

Shen Jiu fumbled to catch it, only for the crisp white and and blue paper to start dissolving in his hand. He dropped it on instinct— bright colors spreading through the water could only mean poison. He glanced up and sent the human a viscous glare. 

"Nooo, you have to eat it before it gets soggy!" Shen Yuan urged, seemingly oblivious to Shen Jiu’s ire. 

Shen Jiu considered for a moment. This creature was far too stupid to poison someone, and seemed to have been carrying this for some time without any precautions or fear of it. It probably was just food. Shen Jiu’s stomach grumbled. Cautiously, he grabbed the ‘milk candy’. The blue had fallen away to reveal a white pellet that sat nicely in his palm. He put it in his mouth. 

“Mm—“ Shen Jiu couldn’t suppress the noise. His head fins fluttered in delight as the creamy, sweet taste spread. He held it there carefully, letting it slowly melt over his tongue. 

“It’s good, right?” Shen Yuan asked, just a little smug. Shen Jiu reluctantly nodded. He reached down to pat Shen Jiu’s head, as no one had done in so long. “You don’t have to be sad. If you’re lonely, I’ll be your friend.” As the boy gently stroked the siren’s silky hair, Shen Jiu decided that lunging up to bite wasn’t worth losing the treat in his mouth. It was okay to stay like this, just for a little while.

[dandylovesturtles]

I meant to do this earlier and then I didn't |'D but quick little ficlet for @trilobitepunch 's DTIYS!

I've tried to read all the stuff about fangiverse but I may have some lore wrong... but I hope you enjoy this anyway, Aya!

-----

Raph has always kept an eye on his little brothers, and that hasn't changed. Two of them have some added... difficulties now, but that's all. They're still his little brothers, and Raph will watch out for them, same as usual. Everything is totally normal.

Thinking that way helps him stay calm, anyway.

Like now, wandering through a marketplace in the Hidden City, eyes on Donnie as he pokes at the gourds at a stand with a frown. They have a whole shopping list from Draxum, for some medicines he wants to try to make that he thinks will help not just Donnie and Leo but all of them. Raph had almost insisted that he and Mikey could do it on their own, but Leo starts going stir-crazy if he's kept locked in the lair too long and Donnie can lock himself in so long he needs the vitamin D.

Besides, Raph doesn't want to feel like he's keeping them prisoner. It's not their fault.

But against all odds, the day has turned out surprisingly well! They had lunch at Run of the Mill, and ate all their favorites. Leo and Mikey spent their remaining New Year's money on candy from a shop that temporarily turns keratin weird colors; it's supposed to affect fingernails, but right now Mikey is sporting a bright pink shell as he trails after Donnie (Raph has to admit, he wants to try it later). For his part, he has an almost-eaten cup of froyo, which he'd piled high with some pretty weird toppings (the Hidden City has weird green mushrooms that taste like cotton candy!). And they've made it through over half the shopping list without incident! Maybe everything will go smoothly after all.

And just as Raph thinks that, he hears a familiar snarl, and everything falls apart.

His mistake, he realizes even as he turns to look, was focusing so much on Donnie that he forgot to keep an eye trained on Leo.

Donnie's easy to trigger, and he sinks deep, devoid of everything but the urge to attack, to fight. Leo can usually keep one finger in reality, just enough to be the bridge between Donnie and the rest of them. Donnie is unpredictable in a crowd, but Leo loves being out around people. That's why Raph had kept his eyes trained on purple.

But the thing is, when Leo goes down, he goes down hard. And there's nothing to stop Donnie from being swept right along with him.

Raph swivels on his feet, froyo cup tossed aside as he scans the crowd. He finds Leo fast, poised like a snake ready to strike, snarling and hissing, pupils flared and wild. His fangs are out and they're bared, staring down a yokai almost three times his size - Raph doesn't know what happened in the lead-up, but he has a feeling that Leo's freakout is deserved.

It doesn't change the fact that they can't stay here now. If Leo hurts someone in this state, he'll beat himself up about it for weeks - and it's only a matter of time until the cops show up and arrest all of them.

"DONNIE!"

Raph isn't at all surprised by Mikey's shout, or the sudden blur of purple that shoots past him. Donnie is at Leo's side in an instant, snarling just as loudly, the two of them circling back to back in challenge to the increasingly panicked crowd.

It's time to go!

"Raph!" yells Mikey, but Raph doesn't spare him a glance. He trusts Mikey to keep up.

"Hitch a ride, Mike," is all he says, before he's clearing the space between himself and his snarling brothers in two big steps. A second later, a familiar weight lands on his shell; one problem taken care of.

Donnie is just about to launch himself at a yokai brandishing a short sword when Raph swoops in, grabbing his little brother by the battle shell and tucking him under his arm. Donnie howls in frustration, but Raph has experience on his side; he pins Donnie to his side and makes sure his teeth can't get anywhere near him.

"No biting, Dee!" he calls over the noise of the crowd, and gets a frustrated chatter in return.

"I can't reach Leo!" Mikey reports from his shoulder. Raph swivels around to look at his remaining sibling, currently advancing on the big yokai once again. Said yokai has his hands balled into fists in front of him, but he looks more than a little concerned as Leo lurches toward him with predatory steps.

Maybe he could just let him get a little closer...

No, Raph should definitely stop this.

With another big step, Raph comes level with Leo and scoops him under his other arm, earning a startled yelp that would be hilarious under other circumstances. Both feral turtles struggle under his arms, fangs bared and hands strong, but Raph has them in his grip.

A police siren echoes over the din of the crowd.

"Time to go!" Mikey shouts, thumping Raph's shell.

"Don't gotta tell me twice!" he yells back. He's already muscling his way through the crowd, making a beeline for an alleyway off the market. They need to get off the main streets, then book it for the nearest portal topside.

The whole trip, the bundles under his arms hiss and snarl and claw at him, completely ungrateful for how he just saved their butts. He ought to drop them and leave them here.

But he won't. They're still his little brothers, after all.

[grandstringbeansupreme]

Spices- Humans are Space Orcs

i was a weird kid. I blame it on being Italian, but I loved spices. My mom caught me eating a clove of garlic once because I had eaten all my Halloween candy in rapid succession and only wanted savory foods. The funny thing is, most spices and flavorings, garlic being one of them, are active poisons or repellents to other mammals. Most mammals, actually, but Humans. Take onions- I love onions. I would eat one like an apple if I could. But cutting onions releases a chemical that makes your eyes burn, your nose burn, everything burn. Peppers will sting everything from your skin to your anus on its way out. Garlic releases a smell unbearable to most mammals and even insects. Yet we can't get enough.

Now think of an alien documenter checking the list of what all came into the ship ordered by crew mates that week when they docked for repairs.

And what's this?! Human Durran, ordering what? The alien's many eyes widen in horror as he reads the list of what, to his species, is downright poison. Ginger?! So strong in curdles stomach acids! Lemon?! Good stars, it caused reactions so severe on skin! HORSERADISH?! Human Durran was trying to kill them all!

Concerned, the alien tells the captain, who confronts Human Durran with the list and two of his best guards. Ordering such poisons is a serious thing! What could Human Durran possibly need them for other than to slaughter the crew?

The captain walks into the kitchen to find Human Durran slicing the ginger calmly, surely plotting the murder of the crew.

"Human, we have matters to discuss urgently."

Human Durran turns, eyeing the guards, before looking at the captain.

"Am I in trouble, Captain?" He questions, lifting a piece of ginger to his lips and consuming it as if it was nothing.

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

okay so i got this ask on my other acc and although im planning on writing a separate fic with grayson and lyra in their tgg stage, i had a new idea for a fic that i really wanted to write!! 🤭

Ill Struggles - grayson x lyra

——————————————————

LYRA:

Lyra peeled off her sporty leggings and shirt from her body before stepping into the shower in her temporary bathroom, recalling what had happened just moments earlier.

Graysons lips on hers, his hands in her hair, hers on the back of his neck, and then— nothing.

Although, she was probably the one to blame, as it wasn’t Grayson who jackrabbited off the second they separated.

She shuddered in horror at her actions, before rubbing shampoo into her hair and rinsing it off. Showers were the only therapeutic thing in her life at the moment, and the warm water felt more like a hug than a mere liquid. Lyra stood in the shower for a few moments more, soaking in the heat, before she turned off the water and stepped out. She grabbed one of the towels and immediately froze at how soft it was. It was little things like these that reminded Lyra of the billions of dollars the Hawthorne family had to their name. She sighed and revelled in its texture, drying the water off her body. And then she was changing into clothes, and stepping out of the washroom, slipping in her shoes as she did.

She sat on her bed, tapping her fingers on the thigh. Alice Hawthorne. The name gnawed at her, until Lyra had to get up, walk over to the desk with the laptop that each contestant is provided in between phases of the game, and sit in the chair in front of the desk.

Opening up the laptop, she searched up the one name that hadn’t been able to leave her mind ever since it’d become relevant to her. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice was a grandmother. She was married to Tobias Hawthorne. Her mother’s name is Pearl O’Day. That’s all Lyra could find.

But, her brain told her, latching on to one piece of the article she’d found, Pearl O’Day is still a lead. Lyra searched Pearl’s name, and after scrolling through media after media, finally found something that referenced her: “a porcelain antique lamp, donated by Pearl O’Day.”. Lyra read more. It appeared to be an auction site. Lyra kept scrolling down the site until she found the exact piece the website had mentioned earlier. It was donated two weeks ago. Which meant… Pearl O’Day was still alive.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins. This is how she would be one step closer to finding out what Alice did to her father. If anybody would know, it’d be her mother.

A sudden grumble from Lyra’s stomachs reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in a day. Lyra glanced back at her laptop, before sighing and standing up. Better to eat now than starve later. Opening her door, she stepping outside of her room, and walked down the long, circular staircase. At the end of the hall stood a kitchen. Lyra walked up to it, and then froze once her brain realized what she was seeing.

Grayson’s body limp on the floor.

His limbs were sprawled out in an awkward way, and the sight of it brought back memories of him. The broken accent. The hands that held out the calla lily and half eaten candy necklace out to her. Her father, Tomas Tommaso Thomas Thomas.

The flashback was so sudden and fervent, that Lyra had to fight back the sickly metallic smell of blood, and the feel of it sticking onto her feet. And then she was running, shouting his name as she kneeled before him.

“Grayson?” She called to him, her voice shaky. No answer. His eyebrows were furrowed, and there seemed to be movement under his eyelids. Did he pass out? Or maybe he hit his head? Lyra breathed in and out, trying to calm herself, before placing her hand under his head and immediately being hit with the heat coming off of it. Lifting it up slightly, she glanced under. No blood. Eventually, she let her hand trail back to his forehead, feeling its warmth all over his face. He’s sick, she realized, finally breathing. She went to pull her hand away, but Grayson’s hand grabbed her arm before she could. Lyra froze, staring at him as she gently brushed her hand above his brow.

“Grayson?” She asked again, softer than earlier. He didn’t reply, but his brows furrowed deeper. He really was sick.

Lyra spent too much time staring at him, at the sweat he was beginning to work himself to, at the lines of his face, before she realized that she had to do something. Slowly and softly, she patted down his pockets, feeling for his phone. Once Lyra found it, she pulled it out of his left pocket and opened it. She stared at his lock screen, which was a beautiful picture of a sunset over a lake, before feeling her cheeks heat up as she realized that this was far too personal.

She wasn’t the person who could open up his phone without a second thought. She wasn’t that person to him. She was, however, not going to run all over the house trying to find somebody to help her.

“Siri?” Lyra asked the phones robot. The robot replied, with a “Yes? How may I help you?” Lyra mulled on that for a moment. She knew she had to call one of his brothers or Avery, but she didn’t know who. Nash, she had never met, Avery was the Game creator and probably the best person to call, Jameson was… Jameson, and Xander she had danced with at the ball. He seemed nice enough, and honestly, even though she knew this wasn’t about her, the one thing that made her believe he was worth calling was the fact that he constantly wore a smile, just like Lyra’s four year old brother.

“Call Xander.” Lyra told the Siri, hoping that Grayson didn’t have some creative name for his brothers as their contact info.

“Calling Xander,” it replied. Lyra sighed with relief, sparing one last worried glance for the sick man lying beside her, before listening to the line keep ringing. And ringing, and ringing. And when Lyra was sure that he was asleep and that there was no point in continuing to call him, he answered.

“Hey-o, Gray! What are you doing up?” he immediately said, shouting loudly with something whirring in the background. Lyra immediately flinched, and was about to reply, before Xander spoke up again.

“Jameson and I are in my lab, because you know I had to beg Avery to implement a lab in the house design, just hanging out! Say hi, Jameson!” he shouted. Lyra didn’t hear Jameson say hi, but she did hear him tell Xander to “shut off the part of the Rube Goldberg that won’t stop whirring”. Uh, okay. Lyra grimaced, before finally speaking up.

“Uh, Xander?” she said, before he could go on again. There was silence, before the whirring suddenly stopped.

“You’re not Grayson.” Xander said slowly. Lyra sighed.

“It’s Lyra Kane. I found your brother in the kitchen and…” Lyra trailed off, finding her eyes going back to him yet again. “he seems really sick. He’s passed out on the ground, and won’t wake back up. Can you come?” She pressed his phone to her ear worriedly as she waited for his response.

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Is…” Xander trailed off just as she had, and she could tell he was worried. “is he okay?” Lyra mulled on that.

“Maybe not right now, but he will be.” she replied. Lyra wasn’t the best at comforting people, but the more Xander talked, the more she was seeing him as her brother. It had always been easy to comfort her brother. There was silence, before another voice answered.

“We’ll be there in a minute.” Jameson said, closer to the phone now than he had been earlier. Lyra didn’t say another word before hanging up. Somehow, her eyes always drew back to Grayson’s, and she wondered if he was fighting the deep sleep that he was currently in. He seemed to be, with his brows that kept furrowing and going back to normal, but Lyra wasn’t sure. And, well, maybe she just wanted to stare.

Lyra slowly placed a hand on his chest, feeling the heat that was coming off his whole body, and began to work his suit jacket off of him. She pulled it gently off his arms, before giving it a little tug, and yanking it from underneath him. There, she thought, now he won’t be so hot. Although, he was always pretty hot before-

Lyra cut that thought off with an expression of embarrassment before it could fully take form in her head.

“Lyra?” A voice called behind her. Lyra turned to see Jameson and Xander Hawthorne walking up to her, their strides quick and long as they walked up to their brother.

“Shit. He looks pretty bad.” Jameson swore, his face unreadable. Then he glanced behind him, staring at the living room that seemed to be a pretty close walk from the kitchen.

“Alright. Xander and I will carry him to the couch, since there’ll be no way of carrying him all the way back up to his room. Afterwards I’ll call Avery and Nash and see where to go from there.” He glanced back at Lyra. “You don’t have to stick around anymore. You should probably go back to sleep.” Lyra noticed how he used emphasis on the probably, as if it would be the smarter thing to do, but it was up to her. Lyra wondered if he was testing her from the glint in his eye, but Lyra just blamed it on her fatigue. Which, she couldn’t feel at all right now.

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like I’m going to be sleeping tonight, anyway.” Lyra said, glancing to the side as her brain sorted through what she’d learned in the Grandest Game escape rooms. Jameson just nodded, before he knelt down, holding Graysons feet.

“Hold his arms.” Jameson told Xander. Xander walked over to Grayson again, before wrapping his hands around Graysons arms as they both pulled him up. Lyra was going to walk behind them as a way to spot them in case they drop an ankle or an arm, but she decided on doing something else, and walked towards the kitchen.

Searching through the drawers, she finally found one with rags and towels. Picking one that she deemed good enough, she ran it under cold water, ringing the water out of it, before walking back over to Grayson’s unconscious body on the couch. Folding it in half, Lyra draped the cloth over his forehead, pressing it on. Immediately, Grayson’s face cleared the slightest bit, and Lyra, in all her internal struggles, forgot about everything regarding her father for a moment. Footsteps behind her dragged Lyra’s attention away from Grayson for a moment, and Lyra watched Nash and Avery approach, while also seeing Jameson and Xander share a look in the corner of her eye.

“What happened?” Nash immediately asked as soon as he walked towards the group that was huddled around the couch. Then, his eyes flickered to Lyra, and he seemed to be studying her. “Why’re you here? Were you with him when he passed out?”

“No.” Lyra immediately answered. She realized, too late, that she sounded defensive. Nash’s eyebrow raise deepened, and Lyra was quick to continue with her sentence so as not to spur the cowboy on more. “I went to go get something to eat, and found him lying on the floor in the kitchen. But he didn’t seem sick in the first phase of the Game.” Lyra furrowed her brows at Grayson. He was fine, earlier. Was he just suddenly hit with some kind of sickness? Was that even possible?

“He must have passed out from lack of sleep, or perhaps food. We all know he was spending all of his spare time catching up on work in preparation for the Grandest Game.” Avery interjected, giving Grayson’s passed out body a worried look. Lyra mulled on that. Honestly, Lyra was surprised she hadn’t passed out yet. God knows how long it’s been since she’s gotten a full night of sleep, or slept at all.

“Kid,” Nash Hawthorne said suddenly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Kid? Lyra thought. Really? “I think you should get some rest before the next phase of the Game.”

“I don’t need to,” Lyra replied stubbornly. “I’m fine with staying up.” Nash just fixed her with a look.

“Last time I checked,” He drawled, “���staying up’ ain’t a synonym for ‘getting some rest’.” Staying up isn’t a synonym for getting some rest. Did he really think that Lyra could be easily deterred by corny made-up sayings?

“And last time I checked,” She replied, her pettiness in full force, “Kid isn’t a synonym for Lyra.” Behind her, Jameson snorted, but covered it up the second Nash gave him a look. He continued to fix her with a look, but whatever Nash saw in her expression caused him to relent.

“Listen, Lyra. Stay as long as you want, but know that you’re the only one that’s going to get the consequence from this. You need all the energy you can get for tomorrow.” He explained. “I’m not saying this just to continue with our petty disagreement. I’m saying this because you deserve to win, and I don’t want you to lose tomorrow all because you didn’t get a proper sleep.” Lyra’s brain caught on a part of his lecture: “you deserve to win”. Had he been the one to give her that note?

Lyra studied him just as he had done to her moments earlier, but she knew that he didn’t intend it in that way from the look on his face. It wasn’t knowing, or secretive. It was sincere.

“Fine,” Lyra finally relented, sighing. Nash gave her a pat on the back, before striding up beside her.

“I’ll walk ya’.” He told her. Lyra walked beside Nash and wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling the hollowness she had experienced before begin to creep back in. It wasn’t exactly what she’d found out about her father that disturbed her. It was what she hadn’t yet found out. God knows how cruel and terrible Tobias—no, Alice had been to her father. God knows how screwed she might be for complicating herself with the Hawthorne family the way she had.

But no amount of pain, or hollowness, or guilt took away the feeling that she found herself revelling in when she was around Grayson. And seeing him like that, on the floor and sick, gave her a numbing feeling that she could never even begin to put to words.

“Got something on your mind?” Nash interjected, cutting into the silence as he walked her back to her room. Lyra gave him a side-eye.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” She retorted, unsure herself why she was being so petty. Nash snorted.

“Yeah, right. Believe it or not, but just because you’re a contestant in the Grandest Game doesn’t mean that you have to fend for yourself. Tell a Game master what you’re going through, and we can try and help.” He told her, his Texan accent thick. He gave her another look, but this time it was more serious. “At least tell me one thing that’s on your mind today.” Lyra had a million different things on her mind, and none of them she could admit to Nash Hawthorne. Still, Lyra sorted through which would be easiest to admit. She was never going to tell him about her father, or why she couldn’t sleep, or even begin to explain how she felt about the whole Grayson-passing-out situation, so she went for an easier one. It was the slightest bit rude, but honestly, out of all her options, it was the safest.

“These titles that you give yourselves are pretentious.” she told him, not bothering to beat around the bush one bit. A sudden laugh burst out of Nash Hawthorne, and he seemed every bit intrigued as he grinned at her lazily.

“Go on,” he told her, smiling. Lyra went on.

“I mean, seriously? ‘Game masters’? It might not seem like it to you guys, but to me, it’s honestly sounding like either a power play, or just an inability to create titles that don’t make you seem like an otherworldly being.” She explained. Nash just seemed to laugh more, and gave her a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Well, alright. I’ll take that up with Avery and em’ and see how they feel about changing up the names.” Nash said, shaking his head with laughter. “What do you propose, since “Game Master” is too pretentious of a nick name? Game Bros?” Lyra mulled on that.

“I think “Game Runners” has a better ring. It’s still similar to “Game Masters”, but there’s less of an overlord feeling to it. It’s a title that still means one who’s first in command, and still let’s everyone know that you are the “leader of games”, or whatever nonsense you tell yourself, but diminishes that otherworldly aspect that the little nickname entails.” she replied. Nash cocked his head to the side, before giving her a shrug.

“That’s not too bad of an idea. Thanks for the tip, Lyra.” he told her. And then, he stopped walking, and Lyra’s fatigue-riddled mind wondered why for only a moment before she realized she was standing directly in front of her room.

“Thanks for walking me back.” Lyra told him awkwardly, as she felt she had to say something. He replied with a firm nod, and gave her a cowboy smile as he walked away.

“G’night, Lyra.”

“Goodnight.”

Lyra waited for his footsteps to slowly fade into silence before opening her door, slipping off her shoes, and collapsing into the bed. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she melted into the soft sheets, the mattress comfy and soft in all the right ways.

Pearl O’Day, her mind repeated. But somehow, above all that, came another voice. Another worry.

“Grayson.” She whispered. The anxiety about his state came crashing back to her, and Lyra squeezed her eyes shut. Somehow, she couldn’t stop remembered the feeling of her hand on the back of her neck. In her hair. His voice, bringing her back to the light after wading through thick darkness.

Lyra.

Come back to me, Lyra.

You will come back to me, or I will make you come back.

It was with his grounding words that Lyra felt herself slipping into sleep, focusing on a voice so close, yet so distant.

————————————

Lyra jolted upwards, her mind foggy as she tried to blink herself into consciousness.

She was dreaming— the dream, the one with her father, when suddenly, just when the guns about to go off, she hears his words.

Grayson’s.

And then, she knew. While asleep, Lyra remembered the way she saw him collapsed on the ground, and that worry pulled her out of the thick haze of a dream she was in. She didn’t know what exactly it was that compelled her to sit up. She should go back to sleep. It was only 4:13 AM. Yet still, Lyra slipped her shoes back on, brushed out her tangled hair, and padded down the hall to the living room.

Once she made it there, her eyes immediately went to the couch, and to the man on the couch.

Grayson was shirtless, with a blanket straddling his lap and one of his arms hanging off the couch. Lyra’s eyes began to travel down his body, from his biceps to his defined abs to his v-line just barely peeking out from the sweatpants he had apparently changed into, before immediately catching herself, her eyes darting back to his face with shame and embarrassment. Still, he was in a deep sleep, and Lyra was thankful for that.

She didn’t know why she was here. He wasn’t awake, just like earlier. It didn’t matter. Lyra finally turned around, ready to walk back to her room, when her knee accidentally hit the table, causing her to stumble forward the slightest bit. Lyra immediately catches herself and straightens, before seeing a metal decoration globe knock over. She barely had time to catch it when it slammed down on the table, creating a loud noise. Lyra mentally cursed herself and immediately reached to set it back up the way it was before, when she heard somebody stir behind her. Lyra set the globe down slowly, being as careful as possible, before slowly turning around.

Her amber eyes met his greyish-blue ones immediately.

“Lyra?” he asked her softly, his voice deep in a way that rang through her body as he sat up. Lyra could see more of his bare chest now, and she hated how her eyes kept begging her to give it just the barest glance. Lyra refused to though, and kept her eyes on his.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” she told him quietly. Grayson was silent for a moment, before meeting her eyes again.

“It’s fine.” he replied. Lyra was about to walk back to her room, when Grayson’s sleep-riddled deep voice slowed her movements to a halt.

“Stay.” he ordered. Lyra froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“Stay,” he repeated slowly. He didn’t seem like he was going to continue, before he finally sighed and gave in. “please.” Lyra mulled on that, before providing herself, and her reddening cheeks, a distraction.

“Why’d you pass out?” she asked him. He tilted his head slightly.

“The doctor just said I need more sleep, and food. My brothers and Avery have been forcing me to rest, but I can’t bring myself to eat.” he explained. Jaw tight, he went on. “Food just… doesn’t exactly seem smart for me at the moment.” Lyra stared at him, an idea forming in her head, before walking off.

“Stay here.” she told him, although she was unsure where else he would go. Walking to the kitchen, she headed inside the huge pantry, and got some snacks from there on a plate. Walking to the fridge, she grabbed fruits, cheeses, and some other finger foods, before grabbing two more new plates, and filling up a glass of water. Walking back over to Grayson, she kneeled by the coffee table, putting her plate of foods down, as well as the two empty plates and his cup of water.

“I’d rather not eat all of that.” He stated, his voice dry. Lyra put two strawberry’s on the empty plate she put in front of herself, and then two on the empty plate she put in front of Grayson.

“It’s just two strawberries. I’d be more impressed if your body couldn’t handle two strawberries than shocked.” Lyra said, starting to bite at one of her own strawberries.

“Any ideas for what we’re to expect for Phase 2 of The Game?” she asked Grayson. Grayson stared back at her, seemingly searching for something in her face, before patting the spot on the couch beside him. Lyra raised a brow at him.

“Don’t kneel on the ground. It looks uncomfortable.” He stated coldly. Lyra just blinked at him, before snorting and continuing to eat her strawberry. Grayson sighed.

“Sit beside me on the couch, and I’ll eat the strawberries.” he told her. Lyra’s eyebrows raised. That wasn’t a bad offer, considering food wasn’t all that reliable of a substance to him currently. Getting up from the ground, Lyra took her plate, and joined Grayson on the couch. This time, she couldn’t stop her eyes from straying to his chest, but she darted them away before he could look at her.

“You didn’t answer my question, Hawthorne boy.” Lyra told him, her brow raised to give him an accusing look. He returned her brow raised with one of his own, his head resting on his hand, turned towards her. He almost smiled.

“I haven’t got a clue. Believe it or not, but my brothers aren’t cheats, and would never drop hints to me about what’s to come in The Game,” he said, shrugging. “I’m just as in the dark about all this as you are.” Lyra sighed. Then, remembering his offer for if she were to sit on the couch, she gestured to the strawberries on Grayson’s plate with an expectant look. Keeping his eyes on her, Graysons careful fingers reached out to grab one of the strawberries, taking a bite out of it. Lyra cursed herself as her body let out the slightest, almost unnoticeable shiver from the sudden eye contact, unable to control herself. However, Grayson’s prodding eyes noticed it immediately. Grayson, misreading the sudden shiver, took the blanket that was draped across his hips and draped it across Lyra’s shoulders instead.

“Thanks.” Lyra muttered, not meeting his eyes lest heat rises to her cheeks.

“No worries.” He said, his voice firm yet quiet. Suddenly, as if realizing he wasn’t wearing a shirt from the blanket not covering him anymore, (although it wasn’t covering his upper body either anyway) he seemed the slightest bit awkward. Lyra, never having seen Grayson awkward, snorted. His eyes immediately darted to hers.

“What?” He asked, from her sudden snort. Lyra met his eyes.

“You’ve been shirtless the entire time we’ve been talking. I’m surprised it’s only started to bother you now.” she said, laughing. Grayson looked surprised, before actually smiling at her. It was soft, and barely noticeable, but there.

“Very well then.” he replied, and straightened again. Conversation began to start up again, with expectations for the next phase of The Game, and comments on the last phase. Grayson ate the strawberries on his plate slowly but surely, and once he did, Lyra added 2 more foods on his plate, saying “It’s only 2 more. You really can’t eat that?”

Every time Grayson finished the tiny portions of food on his plate, Lyra added small bits onto hers and his, until the main platter, the one that held all the foods in the first place, was nearly empty. Lyra didn’t feel the hunger from earlier anymore, and her stomach was probably thanking her for finally providing it with something. She was sure that Grayson’s was as well.

Finally, now that he and Lyra had gotten some food in them, she couldn’t stop her mind from straying back to what she’d found out. About Pearl, and most importantly, her daughter. She didn’t know why her mind always strayed back to her father whenever she was around Hawthorne’s. Around Grayson.

“I wish….” Grayson started, before suddenly shaking his head firmly. “Never mind.” Lyra turned to him, momentarily intrigued.

“What?” She asked him in a soft tone. His eyes always found themselves straying back to hers, and Lyra couldn’t read the the expression on his face as he held her gaze.

“I wish your mind didn’t always go back to that place whenever you’re around me. I know why, but I……” he trailed off, his voice so quiet Lyra had to strain her ears to listen to his words. “I just wish it wouldn’t.” His words made Lyra immediately freeze, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“What place?” Lyra asked, playing dumb. But she knew. Her father. A Hawthorne did this. Alice Hawthorne.

She knew, and she hated that she knew. She hated this so much. The torn feeling in her bones that wanted to pull him in and push him away all at once.

“You know.” He finally told her, his voice low. She did know. Finally expelling a breath, she turned away from him, not wanting him to have to see the look that was currently on her face.

“What do you want me to say, Grayson?” Lyra finally said, cutting into the silence, her voice no longer quiet. He looked down.

“I don’t expect you to say anything. I myself just needed to say that.” Grayson told her. Her mind began to go elsewhere, not to her father’s death, but to the kiss.

The one she ran away from.

“I’m sorry about running. I don’t even know why-“

“It’s fine.” Grayson cut into her previous statement, his voice less gentle than earlier. Lyra felt ashamed as she turned her head, when out of the blue, she feels Grayson’s fingertips under her chin, turning her head to face him.

“Lyra. It’s okay.” He told her, his voice more gentle compared to his last statement. Lyra saw in his face the self control that he was battling with. At a loss for words, Lyra licked her lips, and immediately saw any piece of it that Grayson had left crumble. He slowly pulled her closer, lowering his head. Lyra didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know why she felt the way she did. Push him away, her brain pleaded, he’s a Hawthorne. Forget what Odette said. He could never be your Hawthorne. But still, there came another order, one that resonated in the beat of Lyra’s heart. One she heard vividly the moment she saw Graysons eyes tick to her lips.

Go on, it whispered. Why did she feel this way?

“Grayson...” She finally whispered, her tone a statement, an accusation, and a question all at once. He closed his eyes, before finally opening them again, and Lyra could see now that the icy grey blue of his eyes earlier was now stormy, a thundercloud over a grey sea. Lyra saw, in the way that he held her eyes, that he was trying to be natural, but she could see past that to the desperation in the set of his brows. His body was rigid, so rigid, but his hand was gentle as it took the back of her neck in its soft grip.

“Please,” he whispered, his hoarse voice somehow a match for his desperate eyes, “don’t run away.” And then he was lowering his head, his eyes full of questions as it held hers. But she knew what he was asking. Lyra didn’t know what possessed her to fight down any voice of reason that was currently battling with her heart. But she did. And, as her hand gripped his shoulder, feeling his muscles, she whispered, “go on.”

Grayson didn’t hold back this time. Lowering his lips, he kissed her softly, feeling her lips like it was a temporary treasure. But Lyra didn’t want slow. The adrenaline now coursing through her body reminded her of that. Lyra responded to his gentle kiss by kissing him back more passionately.

The kiss escalated, from soft, hesitant brushes, to a need to kiss deeper. To be closer. Lyra was hyper aware of every inch of skin on her body as Grayson took her waist in his hands and pulled her closer, to the point of her almost being in his lap. Lyra separated from his lips for only a moment to catch her breath, before Grayson was pulling her back, his hands circling her waist. Her body was half draped across her lap, his hands in her hair, and every one of Grayson Hawthorne touches on her body felt magical. Suddenly, Grayson deepened the kiss, his teeth gently pulling on her lower lip before he continued to kiss her breathless. His lips were starting to trail down her face to her jaw, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touched, and-

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…..” came the sudden babbled interruption, the strangers voice confused and… familiar. Lyra grimaced as she immediately separated from Grayson, flying backwards from him on the couch, and locking eyes with Xander. Hawthorne. Oh no, Lyra thought, her terrified eyes a match for his awkward-yet-scared-yet-intrigued ones, kill me now. Xander stumbled back awkwardly, even as his brother quickly got up from the couch.

“I just wanted to come and check on you.” Xander stammered, his eyes still wide as he stared at his brother now walking away from the couch.

“Xander.” Grayson immediately started, his tone every bit the power-wielding man that Lyra had known in the beginning of The Grandest Game. “This wasn’t something you were meant to see.” Lyra grimaced again. Understatement wasn’t even a strong enough word to define that sentence. Xander eyes kept darting from Lyra’s to Grayson’s to Lyra’s to Grayson’s again, as if he was confused, yet unsurprised at the same time.

“I won’t tell Avery and the others……” Xander started, his shot-up eyebrows finally beginning to lower and the ends of his lips lifting. “But, you owe me big time, Gray.” Grayson’s eyes darkened heavily, and he told Xander something in a different language that Lyra assumed was Latin, his tone threatening. Xander replied in that same language, but his tone was high pitched and excited. Lyra had never wanted to speak Latin more in her life than now.

Finally, they both stopped and were staring each other down, or, Grayson was staring Xander down and Xander was beaming at him, when Lyra finally decided she had enough of this.

“I’m going to assume that this is some brotherly antics thing.” she said, cutting into their long and awkward eye contact. Xander beamed at her, squealing “yup!” the same time Grayson countered “no”. Lyra took that as her ticket to leave. Grayson did ask that she didn’t run away this time….. but did it count if she walked respectfully away?

“I should get ready.” she awkwardly said, darting up from the couch and away from Grayson. “Phase 2 of The Grandest Game is supposed to start today, anyway.”

“I’ll walk you to your room.” Grayson stated, ignoring his brother’s excited giggles at his words. Lyra remembered how Nash had said nearly the same exact thing as Grayson, and had to stifle a laugh, lest Grayson sees her randomly start laughing and thinks she’s a lunatic. Same people, Lyra thought, different forms.

She started walking before Grayson did, but after only a few moments, she heard his footsteps coming closer, before he was walking beside her. Lyra had her shoes on, and the outfit she planned to wear today, but he was only in socks, sweatpants, and nothing more.

“Do you only have these two outfits?” she eventually asked when they were just a couple feet from the door to her room, eyeing down his clothing—or lack of them. “A suit, and a pair of sweatpants?” Grayson sighed, giving her a look.

“Am I ever going to hear the end of this?” he asked her, curtly. Lyra snorted.

“It’s a genuine question.”

“No,” he replied, smiling ever-so-softly, “I somehow have more clothing than just a suit and a pair of sweatpants.” His words just kept reminding Lyra that Grayson was shirtless, and, when she turned around to give him a doubtful look, her eyes immediately were pulled to his chest. Lyra’s eyes were begging her to stay put on his defined abs, to gaze just for a moment more on his v-lines that were barely peeking out of his sweatpants, and the biceps on his arms, but Lyra ignored their demands, not letting her eyes linger on his chest for even a second before darting them back to his. As annoyingly long as the look at his torso felt, it was only a quick glance.

But she knew Grayson was perceptive.

So when his eyes immediately went from neutral to teasing and he stopped walking forwards to walk towards her, she knew that he could see right through her.

“Is what I’m wearing a problem with you?” he asked, crossing his arms with a teasing look. The ends of his lips lifted just the slightest bit from the look on Lyra’s face when he took a step closer.

“No,” she immediately replied, her cheeks growing red, “why would it be?” He did a small half-shrug.

“I could ask you the same thing.” he retorted, his curt voice coming back. Lyra realized suddenly that he was beginning to close in on her. She had her back to the wall, not yet touching it, but she would be if she took a step backwards, and he was only a foot away from her, his arms crossed as he stood over her.

And the closer he got to her, the more she found her eyes trailing right back to his body.

There had to be something wrong with her. Maybe it was just science that made a girl do a little double-take on a guy with some subtle-strength. But nothing seemed subtle about Grayson’s strength.

“You’re overdramatic.” Lyra deadpanned, stepping away from him and closer to the wall. Grayson saw right through her, and why she was trying to get away from him.

“You’re staring.” he replied, as he took a step forward. His tone was simple, as if he wasn’t accusing her, but just stating a common fact. She pushed down the urge to look away and instead just gave him a look, pushing past him and walking towards her door. Grayson followed her movements, taking hold of the knob before she could and opening the door for her.

“Such manners.” Lyra said, pretending to be in awe.

“Well, I’m trying to be polite as possible to you. I wouldn’t want to ruin my chances with the woman who couldn’t pry her eyes away from my chest all morning long.” Grayson retorted, testing her to see her reaction. She was sure that he didn’t get his answer from her slacked jaw and incredulous eyes, as those screamed “hello? vain table for one?”, but rather from the blush that crept up onto her cheeks. “Ah,” was all he said.

“You’re ridiculous.” Lyra stated with an incredulous laugh. He gave her a doubtful look. That only got Lyra angrier.

“I mean it, Grayson. You are. Maybe that sickness is causing your eyes to see things oddly.” He gave the slightest shrug, as if to say, “maybe”, but Lyra could see the humour in his eyes. He always could rile her up. Something about him just seemed very anger-inducing. But Lyra realized, that in her last kiss with him, and all the way up till now, that she hadn’t even thought of her father once. Was her mind straying from what really mattered here so quickly?

“What Odette said…” Lyra said suddenly, the topic changing rapidly. “About you and I being “the right disaster just waiting to happen”…” Lyra couldn’t help but trail off, as she didn’t know exactly how to say what needed to be said. But Grayson knew what she meant.

“I don’t believe it will impose a threat of any kind in the future.” he immediately shut her suspicions down. Lyra side eyed him.

“You wouldn’t, Hawthorne boy.” she retorted. He held her gaze, not speaking. Not until he finally did, anyway.

“It’s a chance we should take, no matter what kind of threats may impose,” he said slowly, causing Lyra’s heart to race, “for your father.” Lyra swallowed, looking down. He took a finger and nudged her chin upwards gently, his touch gentle, yet brief.

“We should take it.” he said, his voice more certain than earlier. We. For once, Lyra didn’t shy away from that word.

“We should.” she said, meeting his eyes. His own held hers, a million prospects of an acceptable form of justice for her father, and his unfortunate death. For once, she didn’t push down the desire to get that justice with Grayson.

Neither did she push down the determined look in her eyes that seemed to match his.

“Get ready, Lyra. Phase 2 of The Game is starting today.” he finally told her, smiling—truly smiling—as he pushed open her door. She smiled back at him.

But this time? Instead of it being like all those years ago when she was younger and had to continue playing the role of a perfect, happy lyra?

It wasn’t fake.

“Same goes for you, Hawthorne boy.”

————————————————————————

yes lyra may have gone a bit crazy drooling over graysons chest, but not enough writers in this fandom talk about it, so i figured i had to do you guys (MYSELF I GIGGLED WRITING ALL THOSE PARAGRAPHS ABOUT HIS ABS 🤭) a favour 🥰

also i can’t be the only one who thinks that lyra would like an old video of grayson when he was swimming and shirtless from like 2018 by accident. just me? okay 😢

ALSO YES I WILL EVENTUALLY GET AROUND TO THE ASKS IN MY INBOX. I HAD ONE I WAS WORKING ON BEFORE THAT A MOOT SENT ME BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO DOING IT BC I HAD TO WRITE THIS AND I KEPT GETTING STUCK AND COULDNT THINK OF AN ENDING AND ARGHHHHH IM SO GLAD ITS OVER

also @littlemissmentallyunstable this is kind of (REALLY) embarrassing but i DEFO looked through your entire blog to see how u finish off fics and write an ending for them bc when I tell you i was stuck… I WAS SO STUCK!!! i felt like all my endings r usually cliche and corny and BORING so yeah i had to get inspiration from the master 💋💋

[lvis44]

Sex & Candy // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), FWB/Unestablished Relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Swearing, Kinda Rushed?, Not Edited/Proofread

Word Count: 4.8k+

Summary: A long day at work and an even longer time apart can all be made better by some chocolate and the man that can make the whole world stop.

Notes: This was requested a while ago and I totally stopped writing it like halfway through and forgot about it, but here we are! I have some angst in the works and also maybe a little blurb for vegas, we shall see how that shit show goes.

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

MSG Lewis: In town for a few days, you wanna grab dinner tonight?

MSG: Stuck at work :(.... Drinks later?

MSG Lewis: As long as I get to see you

MSG: I’ll let you know when I’m done

You huffed, tossing your phone on the desk in front of you before daring a glance at the clock. It would be another few hours until you were able to leave the office and you hated to keep him waiting. The two of you weren’t in a committed relationship but anytime he was in the city, he would be at your door, taking you to fancy dinners or spending hours in your sheets. Every time you saw him it made your heart clench, always wanting more with him but knowing he wouldn’t be agreeable, not for a few years at least. The minutes ticked by like hours as you finished up the last bits of your paperwork, the sound of the clock on your wall teasing you with every tick. You had been ready to leave for hours but with the knowledge you would be seeing him now, the temptation to call it a day was tenfold. Your assistant brought takeout to your desk, making you sigh. You could be at a beautiful restaurant with an even more beautiful man, but instead you were eating barely warm pasta at your desk alone.

Finally you were done, the clock nearing 9pm. You half wondered if he would have found something else to keep himself busy for the night, you wouldn’t blame him. You pondered just going home, not wanting to embarrass yourself with an unanswered message. You decided to push your pride to the side, wanting him more than you wanted to keep your dignity.

MSG: Just getting ready to leave the office

You sent your first text, wanting to leave the door open for him to offer a plan, never wanting to impose, already too lucky to have his attention.

MSG Lewis: That’s way too late love :(

You frowned as you read his message, worried you had missed your window, but a second message came only a moment later.

MSG Lewis: How about you meet me at my place, I’ll send you a car.

Your frown was quickly reversed, he still wanted to see you, only worried about how late you were leaving work.

MSG: Can’t just leave my car at work silly

MSG: I’ll see you soon

MSG Lewis: Wait, have you eaten? I can get us something

You smiled again, the care he showed you would always make you swoon, wish you could keep it all to yourself.

MSG: Ate at my desk, now stop texting me so I can come see you xx

MSG Lewis: Okay okay! Drive safe beautiful, see you soon

Thankfully he didn’t live too far from your office, a trip that you had made a hundred times at this point. You were giddy as you pulled up to the gate to his house, having been too many weeks since you’d seen him. His schedule made things difficult but you would always be honored to have the small moments you could. He must have gotten a notification when you pulled in because he was already waiting with his door wide open. He was in his cozy clothes, large arms crossed over his broad chest and the most adoring smile on his face. You tried to keep yourself calm as you all but lept out of the car to reach him. His arms were open the second he saw you approach, meeting you halfway down the driveway, his feet bare against the pavement without a care.

“God I missed you.” He whispered into the side of your head as you nuzzled your face into his neck, taking in his scent that you missed for so long.

“I missed you too.” You sighed, placing a gentle kiss on the strong muscle of his neck.

He pulled away, only enough to look at you, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist. Suddenly you felt self conscious, very aware that you had just come from a very long day at work and definitely didn’t look your best, but staring at his face you didn’t see a hint of judgment. Yet still you felt the need to apologize, very unnecessarily.

“Sorry I didn’t get the chance to change, was just excited to come see you.” You told him, looking away from his eyes and locking your gaze on his chest in front of you.

“Oh shush, you look gorgeous. You could show up here in a trash bag and I’d still be happy to see you.” Lewis chuckled at your suddenly shy demeanor. 

You finally looked up to him again. His eyes were gentle and you could tell he meant what he was saying. The moment your gaze held his, his hand was cradling your cheek and his lips were on yours. The kiss was much sweeter than many you had shared in your time together and it made your stomach flip. Something felt different.

“Come on, let’s go inside and you can tell me all about your long ass day at work.” He smirked when he finally pulled away. His large hand grasped yours and started pulling you along to his open door.

He led you to his kitchen, two glasses of wine already waiting on the island and you couldn’t help but smile. He grabbed them, letting you take one from his hand before pulling you close to him again. He raised his glass to yours in a toast.

“To finally being able to unwind.” He whispered, a small smile on his lips.

“To finally being able to unwind.” You sighed.

He sat you down at the island, asking if you needed anything before he was busying himself in the kitchen.

“Lewis, I told you I already had dinner, you don’t have to make anything.” You said, laughing as you watched him rummaging in his fridge.

“I know, but first of all, eating at your desk doesn’t sound particularly relaxing, second of all, you never said you had dessert.” He said, his head still in the fridge, making you laugh once again.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “and what exactly do I get for dessert?” You questioned him, your eyes scanning the muscles of his back flexing through his t-shirt.

He shot you a look over his shoulder as he made his way to the counter with an armful of things you couldn’t quite see.

“All in due time darling, all in due time.” His voice was playful yet promising and you felt your stomach flip.

“You know I’m not good with surprises.” You whined jokingly.

“Oh I’m well aware,” He laughed, “now tell me, how was work?”

You knew there was no use arguing with the most stubborn man you had ever met, so you started to fill him in on the stresses of your day, watching his shoulders flex as he chopped things you couldn’t see. His eyes weren’t on you but you could tell you had his full attention as he asked questions and made remarks about coworkers he knew you didn’t care for. By the time he turned back around your glass of wine was empty and he was immediately filling it back up.

“Okay, so don’t laugh at me,” He started with a chuckle, “but I thought we could break out my chocolate fountain.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, he immediately sent you a playfully stern look.

“Your chocolate fountain? Why do you have a chocolate fountain?” You asked, trying to suppress your giggle.

“I bought it for a party and never touched it again,” He explained, “but I thought it could be fun. Besides, who doesn’t love chocolate and strawberries?”

“Touche.” You said, raising your glass towards him.

“Okay good, because I may have already set it up in the other room.” He said, giving you a sheepish look, rolling his lips into his mouth to avoid the grin threatening on his face.

“Of course you did.” You giggled, already hopping down from your seat.

“Alright, this way my dear.” He laughed, grabbing the bottle of wine and the bowl of strawberries, somehow also managing to pat your ass to get you to move.

When you walked into the den you wanted to melt. He had candles set up around the room and the lights low. The chocolate fountain was set up on the table in the middle of the room with a variety of pillows and blankets on the floor in front of it. He urged you to sit, right in front of the fountain, nestled into the pillows. The second you were comfortable on the floor he was taking off your heels and massaging your calves, making your head lean back into the couch behind you. Your head lulled to the side, looking at him. He had settled in right beside you, taking your legs and placing them in his lap.

“I know we haven’t seen each other enough recently and it sounds like work’s been getting stressful. I just want you to be able to relax.” He said softly, his arm draping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You couldn’t help but nestle further into him, enjoying his warmth and soothing touch.

“It’s okay, I know you’re a very busy man and work is always stressful.” You laughed at the end of your sentence.

“Well let me give you a little bit of peace.” He whispered, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know what would be amazing?” You said, lifting your head to look at him.

He raised his eyebrows for you to continue.

“One of the chocolate strawberries I’ve been promised.” You giggled, making him grin.

“Yes ma’am.” He said playfully, pecking your lips before leaning forward to grab a strawberry.

You watched as he carefully spun the strawberry in the chocolate making sure it was fully coated, ever the perfectionist. He leaned over bringing it to your mouth with his other hand underneath, making sure to catch any drops that may come off. He watched you intently as your lips wrapped around the chocolate coated fruit, a small content moan leaving you. He took his hand back, finishing the last bit of berry that you hadn’t eaten.

Your nose scrunched at his action, “Eating my leftovers now, are you?”

He laughed, “My tongue has had a lot more of you than just your leftovers, think I can handle it.”

Your face immediately flushed, looking away from him making him giggle, he loved to rile you up, make you shy.

“C’mon.” You heard him say, making you turn back to face him. He had another strawberry ready, right in front of your lips.

Once again he watched intently as you took a bite, his eyes growing heavy. A small bit of chocolate dripped onto his wrist. Before he could take his hand away you grabbed his forearm, licking away the drop, making sure to keep your eyes on him the entire time. You watched as he let out a deep breath, one that looked like he had been holding for a long time.

“Can’t let any go to waste, it’s delicious.” You shrugged with a smirk, enjoying being able to get him as flustered as you felt.

“Mmm,” He hummed, bringing his hand to your jaw, “well you’ve got some right here.”

His thumb brushed over the corner of your mouth, drawing over your bottom lip before adding just the slightest pressure, making you open your mouth. You welcomed his thumb onto your tongue, the taste of him better than the chocolate. You made sure to swirl your tongue over the pad of his thumb, watching as he licked his lips slowly, enjoying the show. His thumb drew your bottom lip down, his face now much closer to yours than before, his hand still cupping your jaw.

“You’re a tease, you know that?” His voice was low and taunting.

“How am I a tease when you know you’ll get exactly what you want?” You whispered, a small smile on your lips.

“Yeah? What is it that I want?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips coming closer to yours.

“More chocolate?” You giggled, pulling away from him.

You knew exactly how this night would end and you were more than happy with it, but it was always fun to tease him, it brought out another side of him that you were always happy to unlock. You watched as he bit his lip, trying and failing to suppress his smile, rolling his eyes as he shook his head.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.” He playfully sighed, watching as you leaned it to grab a piece of fruit. He chuckled as you took your time fully covering the entire surface with as much chocolate as possible.

“What?” You said over your shoulder, sending him a look.

“Just wondering if maybe you would prefer a spoon, skip the fruit altogether.” He said through a laugh.

“Oh hush, you know I’m a slut for chocolate, it has to be perfectly coated, needs to have the right ratio of fruit to chocolate.” You tried to explain, your own giggle coming through your words.

“I see,” His chuckle had calmed down now as his arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzling into your neck, “is that all you're a slut for?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.” You sighed as he nipped at the skin below your ear, forgetting about the candy in your hand almost entirely.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you further into him. He stopped his slow assault on your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder and nudging your cheek with his nose.

“You gonna eat that?” He whispered, reminding you of the fruit still in your hand, untouched.

You slowly shook your head, bringing it to his mouth. His bite was slow, keeping his eyes locked on yours. The way his lips wrapped around the berry made your stomach twist, visions on them all over your body. A low, content moan came from the back of his throat, almost as if he hadn't meant to make the sound. You were about to pull your hand away, but the second you tried he grabbed your wrist and brought it back to his mouth. He took the last bit of the berry as well as the tip of your finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips around your finger for only a moment before pulling away with a smirk. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and you knew he could see it too. You noticed a small smear of chocolate along his bottom lip, for a moment you contemplated wiping it off the same way he had done to you moments ago, but you opted for a different approach. You leaned into him, just ghosting the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip. That is all you had meant to do but within moments he had taken your tongue into his mouth, sucking on it like he had something to prove, something to claim. Within the blink of an eye he was kissing you hard, his own tongue making its way into your mouth as he pulled you fully into his lap. You were straddling him now, your arms making their way around his shoulders so you could pull him even closer, feel his strong chest against yours even if only through the fabric of your shirts. His hands that had been placed on your waist made their way down to your ass, taking greedy handfuls as he began to guide your hips to rock against him. You could feel him through his sweats, only half hard and already an impressive size. He groaned against your lips, the feeling of being together again in the smallest of ways already almost overwhelming. You had missed the feeling of being close to him so much and you could tell it was reciprocated.

“Need you.” He muttered against your lips, his voice breathless.

It was rare for him to seem desperate, never had you heard him even begin to beg. His small admission made your heart soar. You always knew he wanted you, he wouldn’t keep calling if he didn’t, but it was rarely something that he spoke.

“What about the chocolate? Gonna let it go to waste?” You teased him, you really couldn’t help it.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” He whispered against your skin, his kisses now trailing down your neck. You could feel the ghost of a smirk spread across his lips.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was, but as he effortlessly lifted you to lay you back against the blankets on the floor, you were reminded once again of just how powerful the man above you was. His hands were under your shirt immediately, desperately trying to take it off. He was hasty in his movements, unlike himself, almost frustrated at the discovery of the buttons on your blouse. You leaned up, kissing him softly as you helped him undo the trail of buttons, shrugging the fabric off your shoulders. The moment that was done your hands were under his shirt, pushing it up until he had to sit up and remove it himself. He was back over you immediately, his toned chest pressing up against you making you sigh. You ran your hands down the bare skin of his back, reveling in the strong muscle you felt, imagining the tattoo you were blindly tracing.

“I’ve missed you so much,” His words were rushed, like they were being forced out of him, as he kissed down your chest, “haven’t even been with anyone else, I’ve only wanted you.”

Your bra was quickly discarded before he took your perked nipple into his mouth, not giving you even a moment to process what he had just said. Your eyes fluttered shut as a soft moan escaped you.

“That sound, fuck, I think about it all the time. It’s like fucking music.” He said softly into your skin as his wet lips trailed kisses to your other breast.

Only seconds later you felt his warmth leave you, as you slowly opened your eyes a warm liquid landed directly in the valley of your breasts making you gasp. Then you felt his tongue, flat and warm he licked the same trail before his lips were on yours again. You didn’t even have to ask what he had just done, immediately tasting the chocolate on his tongue.

“Told you we would figure something out.” He smirked against your lips.

As he distracted you with kisses his hand made its way to the hem of your skirt. The second you felt the tips of his calloused fingers running up the inside of your thigh you couldn’t help but buck your hips, making him giggle against your lips. He decided not to tease you too much, swiftly moving your panties to the side so he could run his fingers through your already drenched folds.

“Fuck, always so ready for me.” He groaned, nuzzling his head into your neck, leaving teasing nibbles on your skin as he softly stroked you.

When the pads of his fingers finally landed on your clit you moaned loudly, needing the relief.

“That feel good, baby?” He coaxed you as his fingers slowly worked you, barely enough but still heavenly.

“More, Lew, please.” You whimpered into the air as he pulled back to look at you.

He didn’t respond for a moment, gazing down at you with a look you couldn’t quite make out. He didn’t say a word before his fingers were slipping down to your entrance. With no warning he plunged a thick digit inside of you, curling in the perfectly practiced manner that would have you writhing in seconds. His thumb took over the actions against your clit as he gently eased a second finger inside of you, not waiting around for you to adjust. He was needy tonight, determined to have you exactly how he wanted. The look on his face was one of pure concentration and lust. His brows were furrowed, pupils blown out, his lips parted just barely. He was studying you, drinking in every reaction you offered, committing everything about you to memory for the next time he was gone for weeks on end. 

You were struggling to focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on you, but you wanted him more. You used your last bit of will power to get your hands to the front of his sweatpants, palming the heavy bulge there that you could tell wasn’t restricted by anything. You gave him a small squeeze before trailing your hand up to his belly, determined to get him out of his pants. He faltered for only a moment but regained himself quickly, rendering you just about useless as he began to scissor his fingers inside of you with purpose. You slipped your hand into the front of his sweats as you used your other to pull his head down to you, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy as they bore down into yours. The sigh he let out as you wrapped your hand around his rigid length was one that sounded almost pained. He was hot and heavy in your palm, could feel him pulsing, painfully turned on.

“Lewis, please, just want you.” You whispered against his lips, your words carrying more meaning than you wanted.

“Yeah, of course, fuck, yeah.” He said just as quietly, scrambling to try to get his pants off while still trying to touch you. He seemed almost like a teenage boy who was about to hit it for the first time and it made you want to laugh. The best, most experienced partner you'd ever had, and still acted like he never thought the day would come. He somehow managed to kick his sweats off while still keeping his fingers planted deeply inside you, steadily bringing you to a peak.

He was beautiful in the soft candle light, his features were sharper and his beard somehow looked fluffier, the glow of the flames made his tattoos glisten. It all almost distracted you from the other beautiful part he had just exposed to you. He was thick against your stomach, his tip almost burgundy from how hard he was, steadily leaking precum. It made your confidence peak. The man, who you thought was inarguably the most attractive being to walk the planet, was in this state because of you. There was evident displeasure across his face when he realized he would have to disconnect from you, even if only for a moment, if he wanted to take your skirt off. He did, throwing it off to the side making you say a silent prayer it hadn’t landed on a flame.

He knelt back on his heels in front of you, eyes wandering all over your body as one hand grasped his cock, the other came up to his mouth. You could see your glistening arousal on his fingers as he took them onto his tongue, groaning as he tasted you. Regularly he would have set up camp with his head between your thighs by now, making you come more times than you thought possible before he was finally inside of you, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen right now.

“How do you always taste so good, hmm?” He asked with a small smirk as he positioned himself back over you, using the head of his cock to nudge against your clit. You couldn’t respond, only gasping as he did it again.

He pressed his forehead firmly against yours as he lined himself up with your entrance, barely any pressure but you could already anticipate the stretch that was about to come.

“Gonna make you come on my tongue so many times you forget your own name later, but right now I need this, we need this.” He said lowly as he started to push into you.

You wrapped a leg around his hip as you clung to him for dear life. Rarely did you take him without coming first, his size was notable and thankfully he knew that. He was slow and gentle, easing himself into you as he softly told you how good you were doing for him, how incredible you felt around him. He let out the most content groan you had ever heard from him once he was seated inside you. The stretch had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you dug your fingernails into his shoulder blades. He stayed still for a moment, letting you take your time adjusting, only moving once you started gently rocking your hips up toward him. Soft moans and groans filled the room as he fell into a steady pace, a rhythm you weren’t used to from him. It felt like he was melding the two of you into one, taking care of your soul. He was leaning down on his forearms, caging you in with his forehead still pressed to yours. Occasional kisses were left to your lips that you tried desperately to reciprocate but all you could do was whimper into his mouth.

“Let me take care of you baby, wanna make you feel good.” He murmured against your jaw as he brought your other leg up around his hip, making him press even deeper into you. He always managed to talk to you, no matter how much he was enjoying himself or how lost in pleasure he seemed. It was something you envied, usually left with nothing but the ability to moan and say his name the moment his hands were on you. 

His change in angle had you crying out, your nails dragging down his back causing a deep groan to escape him. Tonight was different and you could tell. You could feel your stomach clenching, your high approaching quickly despite the little prep he had given you, his hand hadn’t even made it down to your clit as it usually would right before you were about to come. The sex felt like more of a connection and less of just a fuck but you couldn’t let yourself get your hopes up.

“God, you're close aren't you?” He groaned as he felt you clench around him. All you could do was nod as your eyes shut tight.

“Come on baby, let go for me.” He said softly, kissing your neck, “I’ve got you, I’m right here, come all over me, you’re doing so good.”

His words pushed you over the edge, you pulled him down onto you very aware that he had simply let you, letting him crush you as you moaned loudly. The second he felt your walls fluttering around him, his hips were stuttering against you. You could tell he was trying to fuck you through your own release but losing out to the sheer pleasure he was in. The two of you came together, a rarity between you. Your ears were ringing but you were able to hear the beautiful pained sound he made as he released into you, painting your walls and throbbing deep inside of you. You felt him go limp on top of you for a moment, his fingers very lazily tracing up and down your thigh. You were no better, floating somewhere in between space and time. It had been a while since you had come that hard and your brain had simply turned to mush. It wasn’t until you heard his soft, raspy voice that you started to come back into yourself.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” He giggled into your neck.

“Hmm?” You answered, not quite ready to form a full sentence, your fingers softly tracing over his sweaty back.

He propped himself up ever so slightly so he could look at you, still deep inside of you and making no move to pull out.

“I’ve really missed you, I always miss you like crazy when I’m away. I’m constantly thinking about when I’m going to get to see you next. I never want anyone else because nothing compares to this.” He said softly, more than likely repeating the words he had just said.

“I always miss you too Lewis.” You told him, reaching up to run your fingers through his beard. You weren’t quite sure what else to say, not quite sure what his admission meant.

“Stay the night? Please?” He asked, the last part sounding almost like a plea as he leaned into your touch.

“Of course,” You whispered, “but only if I can shower before bed.”

He chuckled at you, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips, “Always, but I think we need to have some more fun with the chocolate fountain first.”

His eyes were gleaming with mischief and you couldn’t help but question if you would be sleeping at all.

[sluts4matt]

Hiiiii Ik you are not Latina but you write for latinas (which I’m so thankful for btw because I can’t find many Latina reader fics as a Latina) but I wanted to ask that if you are comfortable with it and you know anything about it if you could right a fic about Latina reader dating either Chris or Matt and her introducing them to stuff like pan dulce, tres leches cake, flan, Hispanic candy and big family parties just how they would react to all of it. Again this is only if you are comfortable with it I don’t want you to feel pressured to do it at all I just really love your work so I had to ask.🫶

TRADITION

pairing: matt sturniolo x mexican!reader

summary: family get togethers happened once every year, this year you were more than happy to bring your boyfriend to share your traditions with.

warnings: swearing, fluff, small argument between reader and their cousin, kinda suggestive in the beginning, i make a small joke about white people which could set a snowflake off so 🤷‍♀️.

word count: 2074

authors note: i can't tell if i like it or if i feel like i didn't do your request justice. i'd like to say that i've never had flan myself, but like everything else i mentioned i've eaten before. (twas not made by white people)

you and matt had been dating for basically a year now. and while obviously your parents, and close family knew matt, your tía’s and tíos did not. however, this month your tía cindy was hosting a family get together.

they typically happen one time each year, each family member hosting a year. last year, your parents hosted. "i think you should come with me to my family get together," you mutter to matt, running a hand through the boy's brown locks as he laid his face on your chest.

the two of you were currently cuddled up in your bed, the babadook playing on your tv. your phone was resting on your pillow next to your head, your phone going off because of the groupchat you were in with your cousins.

"that would be cool," he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your chest. you could feel his eyes close against your skin, obviously meaning he was tired.

"i can introduce you to them as my boyfriend," you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying not to scare him off, though a small smile was on your lips. though in reality you didn't know how you would. bro had seen you in all your naked glory, as well as seen you breakdown on many occasions.

there really was no scaring him away.

matt pulled his face from your chest, propping himself up on his elbows. the chain he wore dangling in front of your face as his blue eyes stared into your brown ones. "yeah?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice as he tilted his head.

you could feel your face heat up as you rolled your eyes, lightly pushing his face away. "don't tease me, asshat." you pout, looking away from the boy above you.

matt laughed, moving his face back down to press kisses to the top of your breast, before peppering kisses to the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before pulling back, sitting back on his heels.

"so when is the gathering?" you snort at his response, "we're not witches matthew, this isn't a coven." you roll your eyes playfully. "mm, could be," he tilts his head.

"it's in a few weeks," you mutter, sitting up and grabbing your phone. you unlock your phone and click on the group chat, seeing what was going on. you rolled your eyes at the chaos that were your cousins.

"fun," he mumbles. "now lay back down," he states, pushing you back down. you look up at him and raise a brow. matt gives a small smile and grabs the blanket, resuming his previous position, pulling the blanket over your bodies.

he pressed small kisses to the spots his lips could reach on your boobs.

"you're such a horny bitch," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. matt hums and shakes his head, "i am not, i'm just affectionate." he mutters, looking up at you.

"mm, whatever helps you sleep at night, babe." you tease. matt nips at your skin and shakes his head.

the two of you walked hand in hand into your tías house. the foyer was big, decorated with art, that quite frankly you couldn't exactly say where she had gotten the pieces from.

"dios mío, mira cuánto has crecido desde él año," cindy gushes, walking towards you. she incapsulates you in her arms, giving you a good squeeze. "tía, esté es matt," you introduce the confused looking boy. "i've heard so much about you matthew," your tía speaks, her mexican accent thick.

she pulls the boy in for a hug, "so glad you could join us this year." before you knew it, she was dragging him towards the snacks. there had been an assortment of candies, as well as salty snacks. next to it was a drink table, which held different types of liquor for the adults, as well as juices and jarritos for the kids.

you were greeted by other family members as you followed your stolen boyfriend through the people. "tell me matthew," you heard your tío marco say, making your eyes widen as you rush over.

"tío, hi, so happy to see you," you squeak, interrupting, knowing that your tio had a nick for scaring the people you dated away, either that or embarrassing you.

"i was just saying that your boyfriend looks like a real gentleman," he says, slinging an arm around the boys shoulders. "he threaten you?" you ask, looking at matt. this earns a scoff, "now, would a sweet, loving tio do something like that?" he tsks.

he looks over at matt, "tell me son, would i do something like that?" he says, squeezing matt's shoulders. the boys eyes widened slightly, "u-um, no, no sir," he says.

you give your tío a glare. he simply smiles and claps matt on the back, "excellent, glad we're on the same page. now, tell me about yourself." "i'm a youtuber-" matt starts, but gets cut off by your younger cousin who had just walked up the table. "a youtuber?" she squealed with excitement, "no wonder you're so pretty."

"back off kid, this ones mine," you mumble at the ten-year-old, wrapping your arm around matt's waist.

"okay, okay, no need to get territorial," your tía says, pushing her daughter away, "now, matt, let's get you a drink." "i don't drink, i'm sober," he says quietly. she winks at the boy, tapping her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "i like you, that was a test, you passed," she stated, grabbing a jarritos. "have a jarritos."

"and for my favorite sobrina," she stated, pouring tequila into two shot glasses. "don't tell your mom about this," she says, handing you one. you took it with a grateful smile, "cheers to you having a good guy by your side for once," she laughed at the last part. the two of you clinked your shot cups together, throwing them back.

the alcohol burned going down, causing you to make a face. "you okay?" matt asks, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. "woah," you shake your head. "mhm, fine," you hum, answering him.

everyone was seated at the table, the children sitting at the kids table. a bowl of pozole sat in front of everybody, as well as a big plate with some elote on it. "what it this?" matt whispers, ducking his head down to talk to you quietly.

"soup," you say, "tía sofia will you pass me a few limes," you ask. she nods her head, passing the small bowl over for you to grab a few. "look," you tell matt, "like this."

you squeeze the lime into the dish, "or you could just put it on top if you want," you shrug. you stir it around, adding some lettuce and onion to yours. "it's not authentic if you leave out the beats," you cousin miles whispers to matt. "literally shut up, like who asked you?" you mumble quietly, not looking to cause a scene over something as stupid as the way you like your pozole.

"here, let's try a little," you tell him, holding a spoon up to his mouth. he opens his mouth and lets you feed him. his eyes boring into yours as you do, he hums when his mouth closes around the utensil.

you pull the spoon away from his mouth and place it down, "how is it?" you ask, grabbing a piece of elote. "elote will never not be good," you state, "pass me the tajin miles."

the black-haired boy complies, sliding the bottle over to you, the plastic clanging with your glass. "thank you." you open the container and sprinkle the seasoning over the cob.

"isn't that a bit much?" matt says, tilting his head. "white people," you mutter, shaking your head as you take a bite of the corn. "no, it's never a bit much," you say, licking the tajin from your fingers.

you look up and see the eyes of your cousin miles staring at you, "what?" you say, glaring at the boy. "you're mean to him, wonder how you've kept him so long." he was obviously trying to get under your skin, it was what miles did. it was like he lived to be able to piss you off whenever he saw you.

"oh yeah, you're the fucking expert in relationships," you say, rolling your eyes. "because you haven't been able to keep somebody for more then five months," you add, looking back down to the table.

"i'm not the one who cheated on her last boyfriend," he says, crossing his arms. "miles," your aunt warns, "not here." "literally a bullshit lie and you know it," you state, getting up, walking inside to the bathroom.

matt quickly followed, leaving behind a table of people that were shocked. he walked in, closing the door behind him, and locked it.

you stood at the sink, gripping the edge as tears filled your eyes. his arms were wrapped around you, "it's not true," you mumble shakily, "i-i didn't," you hiccup. matt shushed you, pulling you closer to him.

"i don't really care if you did," he shrugs, though he knows there would have been a tad bit of fear that it could happen to him. "you didn't," he says, "but even if you did, i don't care. because you're mine, and i love you." he turns you around, cupping your cheeks.

"let's get you cleaned up," he says, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off of your face. you lean into his touch, and nod. "is it normally like this?" he asks, pressing kisses into your hair.

"miles will do or say whatever it takes to get under my skin," you mumble, "he's an immature little boy who doesn't care who's relationships he hurts," you scoff.

matt hums, and holds you close.

"i don't deserve you," you mumble, shaking your head, "i'm a mess." "then i will gladly be a mess with you so we can do it together," he mutters. "let's go back," he says, and unlocks the door.

as soon as he did, your cousin was standing there. "tía wants me to apoligiz-" "save it," you cut him off, holding a hand to his face. you and matt walk back to the table; pan dulce, flan, and tres leches cake gathered in the center of the table.

"here," your tía hands matt a piece of pan dulce. "thanks," he says, smiling at the older woman. he took the sweetened bread from her hands, tearing it in half before handing you one side. he takes a small bite, melting into his chair. "good?" you giggle, glad that most of the family was having their own conversations.

"magical," he hums, "then taste, tres leches," you state, grabbing a small plate with a slice. "tres leches is the only birthday cake i allow," you say, a smile on your face as his eyes light up. "why does this taste better then actual cake?" "because it is," you and your tía selena state at the same time.

matt nods his head and eats his dessert, looking around at all the people. his blue eyes landing on a picture that was hung on the wall. it was a photo of your abuela, the woman who raised your mom. you followed his eyes, "she was an amazing woman," you state, nodding your head.

“she would have loved you if she had the chance to meet you,” you mumble, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

he looks over at you and smiles, grabbing a piece of flan. he puts the spoon in his mouth and hums, looking at you with wide eyes. "what is this? how did i never know this existed?" "because you never dated a bad ass latina bitch before me," you giggle.

"that's a good point," he shrugs. "and yes, flan is the shit," you laugh, "i love me some caramelized milk." matt's brows furrowed, "milk?" you hum, "milk, sugar, and eggs," you nod.

matt nodded his head and looked back at the dessert. he scooped some more and ate it. by the end of the night, mostly everyone was telling matt what a great guy he was, telling him they'd hope to see him at my cousin delorese quinceañera.

tag list:

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[awyeahitssam]

Harry is seven when she writes a story about a man who made humans into piñatas, carefully stuffing them full of candy and sewing them together. 

Extremely disturbing, her English teacher writes on it in pretty, swirling letters. Excellent work. 

Harry keeps it under a floorboard in her cupboard, and while she always finds a moment to frown at her poor spelling when she pulls it out, the praise ignites something warm in her each time. 

Excellent work. It's the first time anybody has ever said that to Harry. She's determined that it won't be the last. 

Harry likes to write. English is the only class she allows herself to do well in, because her other scarcely passing grades will balance on the report. She writes fantastical things, horrific things that she does not yet identify as horrific, hopeful things, depressed things. Harry is trapped in a cupboard with a single school spiral and a thousand ideas, and so she creates. 

She fills half the pages, front and back, before she realises she needs to write smaller. She begins to fit two lines on a space meant for one. Still, the notebook is filled inside of a week.

Harry waits until her maths teacher isn’t looking, and filches one from his desk. It lasts a week and a half.

Harry becomes used to stealing. Once, she’d only done it to keep away that awfully nauseous feeling of not having eaten for too long. Harry finds, now, that she is more hungry to write than she is for food.

Her English teacher continues marking her papers in pretty cursive.

The most morbid thing I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

A chilling masterpiece.

Very good work, Harry. Take pride in the considerable improvement your grammar has seen over the past several months.

Harry hoards every word of praise, and lets it repeat in her mind when Aunt Petunia rants about what an awful, stupid, useless thing she is. Perhaps Aunt Petunia is right that she’s awful—good girls don’t steal—but Harry does not think she is stupid. Mrs Powers thinks her writing is useful, even if nothing else she does is. 

So Aunt Petunia derides her, and as she does Harry begins to make a game of overwriting the words as they’re spoken with Mrs Power’s praise. After a while her shoulder’s stop creeping up around her ears when she is told off, though the one time she accidentally smiles, she’s dragged by her hair and thrown into the cupboard for her disrespect. After that, she still plays her game, but is careful not to let anything show on her face.

She watches people closely at school now, trying to work them out instead of trying to avoid all notice. Harry observes their interactions, and sometimes they’re friendly, sometimes unhappy, and sometimes there is conflict, which is a very important writing device. 

Jasmine and Edgar are the most popular kids in her class. Edgar, though, is very unhappy to share a birthday-week with Jasmine, and very unhappy that they both to have parties on the same day, Saturday. 

Edgar has never liked Jasmine. It takes Harry a lot of watching the boy to figure out that it is because his father sneers at people with dark skin, and he mimics his father whenever he can. 

Jasmine’s skin is the same colour as Harry’s except she is pretty, and nice, and everything Harry is not. She is also hurt by Edgar’s behaviour—Harry can not even imagine being hurt by such mild insults—and Harry finds a fascination in how that hurt seems to change her.

When Jasmine starts crying after three days of Edgar being mean to her, her tears are nothing like Dudley’s. Her sobs are genuine and trembling. It hurts something in Harry’s chest to see her so sad, and she understands the way people try to soothe her upset. 

The boys do not like to see a very nice little girl like Jasmine cry, and even some of Edgar’s best friends go to comfort her. Most of the girls do not like that Edgar has been mean to Jasmine when she is always nice to everyone, and they make it known in strange ways. Some yell at him in high-pitched voices, some ignore him completely, and some cross their arms and stare at him with narrow eyes. 

Harry watches Jasmine, and she sees the girl looking around with wide, red-rimmed eyes, realising the way her crying has garnered sympathy. Then, Harry sees the steely kind of look that enters her eyes. For the rest of the day and then week she works to turn their entire class against Edgar, and Harry thinks the attempts are clumsy at times, and obvious, but she roots for Jasmine anyway.

Everybody except Edgar’s very best friend goes to Jasmine’s birthday party, and Edgar comes to school on Monday quiet. He still does not like Jasmine, and looks at her with mean eyes, but he also seems like he’s been defeated.

Harry wonders if she can ever defeat Dudley like that. 

Throughout the entire week of watching, Harry scribbles out all of the different reactions she notices.

She wants to know more. 

She wants to know how people react in all different scenarios: she’s hungry for it, because she wants to write it, because writing is important.

Words are important.

They can make you feel so bad you want to not exist anymore, or they can make you so happy you feel like you can float out of your skin.

One day, Harry talks to Jasmine, just to see what the girl who seems very, very nice will make of a not-nice girl like Harry, with short, messy hair and too-big clothes. She knows she looks poor (she is poor), and Jasmine’s family has money, but they aren't rich. Harry knows the other girls frown at her sometimes, maybe because they can’t braid hair as short as hers, maybe because she’s weird, maybe because she doesn’t claim to be a tomboy like the other girls that wear shorts and tee-shirts and is so still and so quiet and so ominously watchful.

(She learned the word 'ominous' last week—she likes it a lot. She thinks that’s what her entire existence is: ominous.)

Jasmine is polite to Harry, returns her hello, and gives her a sort of weak smile before hurrying back to her friends. She’s not kind, not exactly, and Harry guesses it’s obvious that she’s a freak, and even very nice girls like Jasmine know it’s better to stay away from such unnatural things. She does not try to say hi again. 

She starts writing about people in her classroom, using different names. Jasmine is her favorite to write about, though Harry calls her Lily, which is Harry’s mum’s name. She makes her bold and a bit more careless than Jasmine is in truth, makes her say what she thinks, and do what she likes, and not care about whether other people like her. 

Harry begins to write about herself, too, a character named Alias that doesn’t let feelings play across her face, even though she feels a lot. She tries to make them friends, but they can’t be.

Alias is self-contained and Lily is too powerful in her own boldness.

She sets them against one another in conflict, instead. Writes how she might react to bold, brash declarations, too-big gestures and careless actions that nonetheless show care. She finds herself snickering into her arm to muffle her amusement at how very outraged Lily is by Alias. They are the opposite of each other. 

Harry wonders, sometimes, if she is that to her mum. Perhaps it would be good to be: after all, her mum was silly enough to marry a man who got into a car drunk and killed them both in a crash. 

The next paper she submits to Mrs Powers gets a new kind of a remark. Excellent characterization.

The blankness Harry pulls around herself falters. She grins down at the paper, blatantly proud in the middle of class.

Mrs Powers hums softly and places a hand gently on her shoulder. Harry’s gaze jerks up in alarm, and Mrs Powers offers her a kind smile that has sharpness underneath, and nods her head in what looks like—like approval.

Warmth blasts through Harry like a firework. 

She’s hungry to write more.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Lost (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister Imagine)

"What do you want?" you asked Jay as you held his hand while you walked into the mall the weekend before Christmas.

He smiled and quickly looked down at you. "I told you. You can get me whatever you think I'd like. I'm not picky."

"I know that, Jay Jay," you huffed. "But Will telled me you need to be spec-spec...Will, what's that word again?"

"Specific," he offered.

"Yeah. That. He telled me you need to do that because we gotta know what store to go to."

"What do you want to get me?" Jay asked.

"I dunno! That's why you gotta tell me!"

"Okay, okay, calm down," Jay said as the three of you walked into the mall. "How about some new gloves?"

"That's a good idea! Hailey always says you need new ones!"

"She does, doesn't she?"

"Yeah!"

"So, me and you will go get Will's gift and then we'll get a snack and switch, okay?"

"Okay!"

Then, you and Jay started off toward the center of the mall to the sports store to get Will the Blackhawks winter hat he wanted while Will went the opposite way to meet up with Hailey and start knocking the last-minute gifts off your list to Santa.

***

An hour later, you had Will's hat and Jay, well Jay had some last-minute stocking stuffer ideas from you, and you all had eaten soft pretzels with cheese from Auntie Anne's. Now, it was time to go get Jay's gift. And, unbeknownst to you, Jay had told Will to stall because he and Hailey needed to run across the street to get your Build-A-Bear clothes that they had ordered online last week and then get your new bike from Toys R Us. 

"I think we should get Jay two things," Will suggested.

"Why?" you asked. You had only gotten Will one thing. You couldn't get Jay two because that wouldn't be fair!

"Because there's that fun food store and I think he'd like some weird potato chips."

"But you didn't get two presents! So, Jay Jay can't get two! That's mean to you!"

Will smiled and then steered you towards the center of the aisle to the seating area. Once there, he crouched down to your level. "And that's so nice that you're thinking like that, kiddo! But, I think he'd like some fun chips."

"But you like the pickle ones!"

"That's right. How about you get me the pickle ones, too then?"

"But then you'll know what I got you!"

"I'll forget by then."

You scrunched your eyebrows. Christmas was in four days! Will couldn't forget that fast, could he? But, they never lied to you. So, maybe he would.

"You promise you forget?"

"I promise."

"And we give them back to Jay Jay later so he help me wrap?"

"And we can give them to Jay later so he can help you wrap them, yes," Will confirmed.

"Okay! Let's go get the chippies!"

Will laughed and then looked around. It was starting to get later and more people were coming into the mall because they were getting off work.

"Hold my hand when we walk there because it's getting busier, okay?"

"Okay!"

Then, you grabbed Will's hand and went over to the store that housed all the candy, chips, popcorn, and all of the other fun foods.

You quickly found the dill pickle potato chips that Will liked but were stumped on what type of chips to get for Jay.

You scrunched up your eyebrows again, deep in thought. "I dunno what to get Jay!"

"Hmmm, what if we look at the popcorn? See if they have anything spicy. He likes that."

"Is that the thing that makes my tongue all tingly that I had to drink milk after?"

Will smiled and held back a laugh at your description. "Yes, that's the one."

"We should get him one with lots and lots and lots and lots of spicy!"

"Okay, super duper spicy popcorn for Jay comin' right up!" Will's phone then buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that Jay had texted him to pick up some candy for your stocking. "Hey, kiddo? How about you go over there and pick out all of your favorite candy so that Santa knows what to bring you."

"But how will Santa know if I didn't write it on my list?"

"Well, you can bring it over to me and--" he lowered his voice and crouched down to your level. "Between you and me, I know Santa's phone number."

Your eyes widened. "You talk to Santa?"

"I do. So, you show me all the candies you want and then I'll write them down and then tell Santa. Then, he'll bring you some."

You quickly nodded, still in awe. Your big brother talked to Santa!

Then, you ran across the store to begin picking out all of your favorite candy!

***

About five minutes later, you were almost done making your selections, when you saw someone out of the corner of your eye.

You gasped. Will was leaving the store without you!

You quickly put your candy back on the shelf and then hustled out of the store and kept following your big brother, but boy, did he walk fast!

"Will!" you shouted when you were two stores away from the candy and snack store. He didn't turn around, so you tried again.

Nothing.

You huffed and stomped your feet in annoyance.

"Will!" What was it that Jay called Will when he was mad? Then, it came to you. "William!"

Still nothing!

You kept following him and running almost as fast as you could. Then, he turned into another store and so did you.

He was slowing down and you were catching up to him. Will really needed to slow down! And what about the chips? And telling Santa about the candy? You needed to make sure he'd still talk to Santa and--

He turned around and you gasped.

That wasn't Will!

***

Will furrowed his eyebrows as he walked over to the candy section holding a bag of ghost pepper and jalapeno popcorn for Jay and a bag of dill pickle potato chips for himself...which he'd conveniently "forget" about in four days. He didn't see you here and you knew not to leave anywhere without him or another trusted adult.

"Y/N," he said. "Y/N!" he tried again, this time louder.

His heart began to race. You had to be in the store still. You had to. You knew not to leave without an adult. It was drilled into your head. And, you wouldn't do that on a normal day, much less this close to Christmas when Santa was watching you even closer than before. And, if Will lost you, well, Jay would then commit murder...and he wouldn't care if it was Christmas.

"Y/N!" he tried again and continued to run around the store.

Once he went around twice, he had to concede.

You weren't here.

He quickly made his way to the counter and pushed past all of the current customers.

"Sir, you need to go to the—"

"Listen, I'm sorry for cutting in line, but I'm not buying anything right now. My sister was just in here with me and she's not here. This is her." He pulled up the most recent photo of you on his phone. "Did you see where she went?"

"I'm- I'm sorry," the salesgirl stammered. "I had to run to the back to get some orders and my coworker was on break and—"

"It's okay, that's okay. My name's Will, Will Halstead. Do you have a piece of paper? I can write my number down and if you see her or she comes back here, you call me." She slid Will a piece of paper and he wrote down his phone number. "I'm going to security now. Her name's Y/N Halstead. My brother's name is Jay and he's a cop. He might come in here, too and uh- uh—"

"Mr. Halstead, take a breath. Go look for her and go to security. I'll call you if there's anything."

"Thank you!"

Then, he sprinted out of the store.

***

"Do think she wants purple or pink for her bike?" Jay asked as he stood in Toys R Us.

"Hmmm, how about a purple bike and pink helmet," Hailey suggested.

"I like your thinking, Hails. I like your thinking. I'll go grab a worker to get the bike down and then we—" His phone ringing cut him off. "It's Will. They're probably done and I'm gonna have to figure out another stall tactic for at least thirty minutes." Then, he slid open his phone to answer the call. "Yeah, W—"

"Listen, I don't- I don't know where Y/N is," he answered, trying to remain calm even though everything in his body and brain were screaming at him to panic.

Jay froze. "What? What do you mean you don't know where she is? She's with you."

"She was supposed to be! I was having her look for some candy while I found your last gift and then I turned around and she wasn't there and—"

"Okay, okay, stay calm. What did you do next?"

"I went up to the girl at the counter of the store, showed her a picture of Y/N, left her my number, explained the situation, and told her to call me if she saw her."

"Okay, that's a start. Me and Hailey are on our way. Just start looking and call me if you find her."

"Yeah, yeah, I will."

"We gotta go," Jay said when he ended the phone call and started speed walking towards the exit of the store.

"Jay, what's wrong? What's going—"

"Will lost Y/N!"

"Shit. Let's go."

Then, the two took off running.

***

No, no, no, no, no.

There were too many people and you couldn't see above all of these people's heads and you didn't know where Will or Jay were. What did you do now?

Hot tears began to stream down your face as you walked out of the store you were previously in. Then, you turned. Did you come from that way? Or was it the other way?

Then, you heard Jay's voice in your head.

If you're lost, stay where you are and we'll find you. But if you see a police officer, you talk to them.

You stood there and frantically looked around.

Then, you saw them. Two officers with the blue shirts and the hats that Jay and Hailey had to wear sometimes.

Then, you took off before you lost sight of them.

You skidded to a stop in front of them.

"Can you help me?" you quickly cried when you were within earshot of them.

The lady cop quickly took in your tear-stained face and crouched down to your level.

"Help you with what, sweetheart? Where are your parents?"

"My- my brothers."

"Okay. Where are your brothers?"

"I dunno. I thought Will left the store but then it wasn't Will and Jay told me to stay where I was unless I saw a police off-cer because he's one and—"

"Honey, hey, hey, it's okay. We'll find them. What's your name?"

"Y/N Halstead."

"Okay, Y/N. I'm Officer Raven and behind me is my partner, Officer Brown. Now, what are your brothers' names?"

"Will Halstead and Jay Halstead."

"Okay. And, you said one's a police officer like us, right?" You quickly nodded. "Do you know one of their phone numbers?"

You nodded and quickly rattled off Jay's phone number.

But, when the officer called the number, it said that this number had been disconnected.

"Y/N, he didn't answer. Do you know another phone number?"

At this, you began to cry harder. Will had taught you his number, but you were so scared it was all getting jumbled up in your head!

"I don't 'member!" you cried.

"Okay, that's okay. You said Jay's a police officer, so do you know his badge number?" She pointed to her own badge. "It's the number that's on here. Or, do you know who he works with?"

"Jay Jay works with Hank- Hank Voight," you said. Then, you remembered multiple times at the district where Jay would quiz you on his badge number. He said if anything happened and you couldn't remember anything, just to know his name and his badge number. "Jay Halstead. Badge 5..1..1..6..." you furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to pull out the last number from memory. "3."

"Jay Halstead, badge number 5-1-1-6-3?" Officer Raven asked.

"Yes! That's my brother."

"And he works with Hank Voight?"

"Uh-huh."

"Brown, know a Sergeant Hank Voight? Any chance you know his district?"

"Voight's district is the 21st. One of the most infamous sergeants. You're lucky you haven't come across him. I'll call it in." He picked up his radio. "Dispatch, patch me into the 21st."

"Copy."

"21st district. This is Sergeant Platt."

"Trudy!" you exclaimed. "I know her!"

"You know her?" You nodded. "Good!" Officer Brown said to you. Then, when he spoke again, it was into his radio. "Sergeant Platt, this is Officer Trevor Brown, badge number 1-3-5-7-8. I'm here with Y/N Halstead. She said her brother is Jay Halstead, badge number 5-1-1-6-3. We tried to call him but that number was disconnected. Do you have another number for him?"

"Halstead, huh? Let me talk to Y/N and then I'll give you the number."

The officer knew this wasn't protocol, but who was he to tell the desk sergeant no?

"She wants to talk to you, Y/N." Then, he bent down to allow you to talk into your radio.

"Trudy!" you exclaimed. "I was shoppin' with Will and Jay and- and then I thought Will left the store but then it wasn't him and- and then Jay Jay not answerin' and then I finded the off-cers like Jay Jay telled me and--"

"Hey, Y/N," she cut you off. "It's okay. You did really good telling the officers Jay's badge number. I'm gonna give him a call and he'll come to you, okay? I need to talk to the officers again now, alright? You did such a good job."

"Thank you, Trudy!"

"Sorry about that," Trudy apologized to Officer Brown a moment later. "We had a case where the criminals found some personal phone numbers and they had to be changed, which is why the number is disconnected. Tell me where you are in the mall and I'll give Halstead a call right away."

He told Trudy where exactly in the mall you were and then told you that she'd call him and your brother would be on your way. 

***

"Trudy, I'm a little busy right now. Y/N's missing and we're at the mall looking for her and--"

"Halstead, she found two officers and she's in front of Williams and Soma."

"She-- You found her?"

"She found officers and said your badge number and everything. Williams and Soma, Halstead. Go there. And next time, keep an eye on her."

"I wasn't watching her, it was Will."

"Don't care who it is. Watch her next time."

Then, she hung up the phone and Jay almost fell over in relief. 

"They found her, Hails." He quickly told her the store and what Trudy had told him and they started walking over there when she quickly stopped. 

"I can't go over there, Jay. She doesn't know I'm here and then she'll ask questions."

"Shit," Jay muttered. "You do have a point."

"I know. I'm gonna go get the bike and helmet and I'll meet you at home. Love you, babe."

"Love you, too."

Then, Jay quickly called Will and told him where you were.

***

The minute Jay saw you, he sprinted over to you. 

"Jay Jay!" you exclaimed and closed the distance between the two of you. 

"Y/N! Hey, you're okay, hey." He was about to sink to his knees when he remembered protocol. "I have to show this nice officer my ID real quick, okay?"

"Y/N!"

"Will!

He picked you up as soon as he got to you and hugged you tight. 

"I'm sorry!" you cried. "I thinked someone was you and it wasn't and then--"

"It's okay," Will quickly reassured. "You're safe and that's all that matters. Now, I need to show these officers my ID just like Jay Jay did really quick, okay?"

Then, he passed you over to Jay.

"I'm sorry, Jay Jay," you muttered as you buried your head in his chest.

"It's okay, kiddo. It's okay. You did so good by telling the officers my badge number. Now, what do you say we go look at the candy again?"

You gasped. "Will said he has Santa's phone number! And that's why we gotta go look at the candy! Do you know his number, too?"

"I sure do. And, after today, I am going to tell Santa that you are most definitely on the nice list."

You gasped. "Really?"

"Really."

"And, we are also going to work on you remembering my phone number and Jay's new one. But, that can wait until after Christmas I think," Will added. 

You gasped again. "I'm getting presents there! Jay Jay, Will said he will forget, but will you?"

"Tell you what," Jay began, "me and you will look at the candy so I know what to tell Santa, and Will can grab the presents, sound good to you?"

"Uh-huh," you agreed.

Then, Jay set you down, thanked the officers again, and you three made your way to the candy and snacks store. 

You and Jay made a beeline for the candy while Will talked with the salesgirl. He said they found you and thanked her for keeping an eye out. 

And, well, if on Christmas morning you found all ten candies you picked out with Jay instead of the original 5-7 in your stocking like Will and Jay planned, well, it was just because your brothers told Santa that you were extra good and extra, extra brave this year. 

A/N: Merry Christmas! I know this one was short, but I had an idea for this the other day and wanted to get it out! I hope you enjoyed it! Also, don't forget to reblog and comment!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 9

Source for pic

Firestarter 9

Word Count: 4410

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: Almost at the end! I was planning on having only 10 chapters, but chapter 10 - which is in Ace's POV - is starting to get big. So maybe 10 and an epilogue? We'll see! Also, sorry if the next chapter will suffer a little delay, I will try to finish it soon, but life has been getting in the way! 😶

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter 🔞 | | |Next Chapter|

Days roll by slowly and you feel the happiest you've ever been. The only time you're apart from Ace is when he's working or when you're helping your father. You spend all the rest of your time together, hanging out, getting to know each other, and having so much sex.

You have only spent one night apart since you two hooked up. The night after you visited the fire station, he told you he was busy with work because the reports from the whole week had piled up and he was going to pull an all-nighter, so he couldn't be with you. The other nights were spent in each other’s company. 

You slept with him at the fire station once and then he developed the habit of climbing your bedroom window so you could be together. Even though he usually arrives when you're already asleep - because of work - and it's not until you sense his hot touches and lingering kisses that you realise he's next to you. 

And you both have to be very quiet, because Shanks would be very mad if he found you desecrating your childhood bed. 

Finally the last day of the Jubilee arrives and it's Ace's day off work, so you decide to turn it into a proper date. You'll eat something there, play a few games - you've been eyeing a giant stuffed panda since the first day - maybe ride the Ferris wheel, and then Ace suggests driving to your spot for a privileged view of the fireworks at midnight. 

And after… 

Well, you'll both see where the night takes you. 

You have already eaten some snacks at the food stalls and are now enjoying a piece of candy floss - which Ace keeps stealing from you - when a little kid bumps into your leg and falls on his butt. It takes you a bit to calm him down and find his parents and suddenly you lose sight of Ace. 

Raising your eyebrow, you take another bite of your candy and wait in the same spot. He might have seen someone he knew and wandered off to say hello. 

“Did you miss me, Firestarter? I've only been gone for five minutes.” He says from behind, near your ear as he lays a kiss on your cheek. 

“Oh, barely even noticed you were gone.” Sticking out your tongue at him, you offer the rest of the candy and he happily takes it. “Why were you gone?”

“Business.” He chuckles softly and winks, letting you know that he will either tell you later or it's a surprise. “Let's go to the Ferris wheel.” 

You take the hand he offers you and smile at the giddiness you feel from such a simple gesture. It's amazing how he can warm your heart just by holding your hand. Waiting in line for the wheel takes almost no time and you both hop into the booth, settling in together and sighing at the sight.

You're about to snuggle into his embrace when he takes something from his pocket and you raise your eyebrow. “Turn.” He instructs, rotating a finger to indicate you should turn your back on him. Curious, you do as he tells you. 

His fingers are soft and warm as he moves little strands of your hair aside. You hear a small clasp and then he places a necklace on your chest, clasping it at the back. It's a locket with a heart. 

“This is lovely, Ace. It's beautiful.”

His lips scorch your skin as he presses them against your nape. He murmurs an agreement and continues his worship down your exposed spine, leaving a trail of kisses and feather-like touches, creating a burning and aching sensation all over your body. 

“Ace…” You whine and melt into his touch. 

“You're so perfect.” He keeps murmuring sweet nothings against your skin and you turn around, enveloping his neck in your arms and losing yourself against his lips in a passionate kiss. 

No outside view compares to the stars his touch reveals. The languid strokes of his tongue against yours trace out a constellation of your own, while his fingers caress your skin, igniting goosebumps like the fiery trail of a meteor. 

The booth comes to a stop far earlier than both of you would like and you emerge flushing, panting and quite dishevelled. Both sporting equally goofy grins of fools in love. 

No, that's not true. You know you're in love, but you have no idea how Ace feels about you. 

Maybe you'll confess once the fireworks start? See how he feels about you. You know he cares for you, that much you can tell. And you're willing to wait, if he's not at the same stage as you are, since he did claim to want a serious relationship. 

Yeah, you'll ask him. 

As the resolution sets in and the midnight hour approaches, you start to make your way back to the car, but Ace gets called over by some friends and you tell him to go say hi as you browse some vendor stands. 

“So you're Ace's new thing?” The voice is haughty and scornful and it takes a hot minute for you to realise that the person is talking to you. 

“Excuse me?” You ask as you turn around and are greeted by a tall, elegant girl with a snide smile. 

“Honey, don't play dumb.” She spits as she throws her hair over her shoulder. “Ace likes to have playthings to toy with from time to time. He gets tired of his one-night stands and dates a rando for a few weeks. Until he gets bored.” She laughs a high-pitched annoying laugh into her hand and stares at you from top to bottom, making you feel self-conscious about your casual outfit - denim overall shorts and a cute over the belly top. “Oh, and honey, you are certainly boring.”

The remark leaves a hot blush on your cheeks as it stings. This girl is poking her finger in the wound and digging, making it worse. She's the type of girl Ace would go for: tall, skinny, pretty. And you… you're just you. A normal girl, nothing too special. 

“Enjoy your time with him, sunshine, soon enough, he'll trade up. I'm sure he's told you you're special, and that he's never met someone like you; that you were never just some random girl, right? Does he have a special nickname for you, too?”

You're pretty sure your teeth will snap from all the grinding they're doing. You want to tell this girl to go to hell because you know Ace cares for you. But what she's saying strikes too close to the truth for your liking. It's all too real. And that's when she hits you with the final blow. 

“I bet he's taking you to his special place to see the fireworks, right? Think you're the only one, honey? Think again. Been there, done that. And here I am. Jilted, as you'll also be.” She gives another high-pitched cackle and you swallow the lump in your throat. There's nothing you can say to her. No comeback, no witty response. She's telling the truth, you're sure of it. “And think about it, honeybee, didn't he tell you the other night he was too busy to spend the night with you? You thought it was about work? Oh, honey…”

You practically freeze on the spot. Yes you thought he was busy with work. You didn't doubt it at all! But if she knew about this, could she have been the one to spend time with him? And here you thought that you were actually special, that this time he was telling the truth and really wanted to be with you. 

Turns out you really are just another girl? 

You see Ace coming back and the girl disappears just as quickly as she appeared. You're standing in the same spot, heart thumping against your chest, eyes prickling and throat dry. 

“Hey, Firestarter, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.” He touches your cheek softly and you recoil, a hurt look on your features. “What's wrong?” Ace eyes you with confusion. 

But you don't quite know what to tell him. “I… this girl…” You take a deep steadying breath. “I… never mind.” Swallowing the huge lump that has formed in your throat, you reluctantly accept his hand. 

Your head keeps replaying the words that girl told you, like a broken record, echoing them over and over. And every time your heart constricts harder against your chest as tears start to prickle the corners of your eyes. Once you reach the jeep, you feel Ace's worried look burning into you, yet when he asks you what's wrong again, you don't really know what to tell him. 

You don't know if you're just making things up in your head or if what the girl said is true. What you do know is that your already fleeting trust in Ace has been rattled. And you feel more insecure than ever. 

“Can you take me home, Ace, please?” Your voice is a mere whisper and you can't force your eyes to meet his. Are you really just another thing for him to play with when he's bored? Or are you actually as special as he makes you feel? You need time alone to process and think and you can't do it with him giving you worrying looks. 

“You don't want to go see the fireworks? At our spot?” He sounds more sad than upset, but you shake your head at his words. A scornful expression on your lips as a dry chuckle rumbles through your throat. 

“Is it really our spot, Ace? You told me it was special and you wanted to show it to me because I am special. And that's fine. But I'm not the only special girl you've had in your life, am I? I'm just your current special girl.” You're stubborn, and so are your tears. Yet you're not surprised when one breaks through the barrier you were constructing and falls down your cheek. “And that's also okay! You've had your life before me, and I can't blame you for that! Especially because I knew that before we happened.” A silly little sob escapes your lips and Ace stares at you, helpless. It looks as if he wants to hold you and comfort you, but you're giving him all the signs that you want him to stay away from you, so he does just that. 

“I'm really confused at the moment, Ace. Please, take me home.” You climb into the passenger seat, vowing not to say anything else because you're feeling hurt and slighted and you know you'll snap and end up shouting and getting mad at Ace. 

And you can't really do that. You told him the truth. He had a life before you reconnected. He could have dated, fucked, kissed half the town or the whole town. It was none of your business. 

It still hurts, though. Because you really were starting to feel special. In your mind you had a made-up scenario where Ace had never felt for anyone the way he feels for you. That you're the first girl he ever fell in love with. Yet, according to that girl, there were other special girls before. And it should be fine, as you keep repeating to yourself. 

But it's not fine. 

Because you wanted to be special for Ace. 

And you're not. 

Ace climbs into the jeep and before starting the engine, his eyes try to pry some kind of information from you as to why you're behaving like this. You keep silent and face the window, effectively shutting him out. Sighing deeply he starts the car at the same time bright lights erupt in the sky, though neither of you cares to watch them now. 

When Ace stops the jeep in front of your porch, you climb out immediately and he follows you. You're halfway up the stairs when he grabs your wrist to stop you. The burn in your eyes is getting stronger and you just want to open the dam and cry your heart out. 

Whispering your name Ace wills you to turn. You do, reluctantly, but have trouble facing his gaze. 

“Are you going to at least tell me what happened before you go?” He sounds so distraught. Enough to make you glimpse at his dark eyes, though your expression is still very sombre and pained. 

“A girl came to talk to me, Ace. She told me you had a tendency to get bored of one-night stands when you found a special girl. You would give her a cute nickname, treat her as if she's the only girl in the world, take her to your special place and then, once you got bored again, you traded up. She made it quite clear that I'm not your type at all.” You couldn't help the sting and venom from dripping out of your words. 

You had been mulling over the girl's words during the silent ride, growing angrier and angrier at them, at her, and at yourself. You were the gullible one for believing that someone would find you special. 

“But you are special.” He says frowning and tugging at your wrist in a feeble attempt to get you to descend the steps and come closer to him. Yet you don't relent. 

“Yet you can't deny what she said.”

He looks down and sighs. “I don't lie to you, Firestarter. You know that. You know there were other girls before, but I have never taken them to our place. And they might have been special if you want to call them that, but none of them compares to you.”

You do know that he doesn't lie to you. He told you that and you chose to believe it. 

Though… “The other night when you said you were busy, did you meet with a girl?”

Ace grits his teeth and avoids your gaze as your jaw drops in surprise. He's not denying it. 

“It's not what you think. She came by the station to-...”

You pull your wrist hard, away from him and he has no choice but to open his hand for fear of hurting you and he lets you go. “I don't want to hear this right now, Ace. I don't. I need to think.” You place your index and thumb against the bridge of your nose, trying to both contain a throbbing headache and the torrent of incoming tears. “I need some time apart to think things through and if you start to sputter excuses I'll just be angry and that's not what I want. I need to think about us objectively.”

You take a step back, climbing another step, still shaking your head and raising your hand to stop his words or his strides. To stop him. Period. 

“Don't reach out, Ace. Don't. I'll speak with you when I'm ready.” You make the mistake of looking into his face before you turn and you can almost feel your heart shatter into tiny pieces. 

He looks devastated. 

Yet, so do you. 

-*-

You barely sleep all night and each time you get up - often, actually - to get food, water or use the bathroom, you notice that Ace has a small light on in his room as well. He must be struggling to find sleep, too. 

Every time you think about the look on his face, you feel like crying. It seems as if you are special to him, it really does. But are you, really? Or is it just wishful thinking? 

Deep down you have trust issues that still need healing. Your ex cheating on you only brought them to the surface, but you know enough about trauma to realise that many of these issues stem from childhood and from feeling abandoned by Shanks. Although you hold no grudge against your father, you know you still haven't fully healed. Little triggers like what happened with that girl, are all it takes to get you spiralling out of control. 

You know you need to deeply evaluate your feelings for Ace before taking this relationship further. Because there will always be girls from his past. Ace has been around. You knew that. So it's bound to happen. 

Girls hold grudges like a miser hoards gold! 

They will come and try to claim him, throw you off with hurtful words, and plant seeds of doubt in your mind. You need to decide now if you are willing - and strong enough - to face that every now and then. 

And if the relationship you build will be strong enough to withstand it. 

Sighing, you check your phone again. You're fighting hard against calling him. You've caught him writing something to you twice, seeing the speech bubbles appear. Yet, he hasn’t sent any text. Although part of you wishes he had reached out, another part of you is glad he's respecting your request. 

You do need time to process. 

Your heart, however, doesn’t. It keeps pounding relentlessly against your chest, reminding you it has already made its decision: it wants Ace. Desperately. It's a longing and a yearning so deep it almost aches. 

You miss him. 

You miss his scent, his touch, his voice and his kisses. You need him. 

You cuddle the pillow he uses when he visits and take a deep sniff, filling your lungs with his scent and shed a few more tears. The only other night you've spent apart was… 

The one the girl knew about. The one he was probably with her. 

Sitting up you throw his pillow to the floor and cross your legs, finding your phone and unlocking it. You find Luffy’s contact and rejoice when you realise he's online. You had a vague idea he was at the firestation today, but this confirms it. 

You call, and it rings twice before he answers, greeting you with your name. “How are you?” He sounds worried. Has Ace spoken to him already? 

“Hey, Loof.” Your voice sounds hoarse and raspy from all the crying. “I'm… feeling shitty.” You chuckle softly while fiddling with your ankle bracelet. 

“Ace told me you needed some time apart from him.” He sounds serious, which is so rare that you sit up straighter. “Want to talk about it?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble between a sob and a hiccup. 

He calls your name again with a sigh. “Ace really likes you. I've never heard him speak about someone the way he does about you. He even told Grandpa you two were getting serious. He never tells Grandpa anything!”

The pressure on your chest builds up and starts to expand. Does he really think you're special?

“Loof… this girl came to me at the festival. She knew Ace couldn't be with me the other night. She implied she was with him and when I asked him, he didn't deny it.”

You sound miserable. You can't help but think that perhaps you're the one keeping yourself from being happy. You've had that thought before. When you discovered that Ichiji was cheating on you, your first thought was that it was your fault. That you deserved to be cheated on because you hadn’t tried hard enough. 

And now, your mind instantly goes to the same place. Ace spent the night with another girl because you just aren't good enough for him. You're not what he wants in a girl. 

Completely ignoring everything he tells you and how he acts towards you. Because he keeps acting devoted and dedicated to you, and you're too dumb or too self-absorbed in self-pity to realise it. 

Perhaps it's time to stop feeling sorry for the misery you create for yourself and start taking responsibility for your actions. 

Ultimately, you have to be the one responsible for your fate. 

“I know who she is. Ace was with her for a little while, but it wasn't that serious. I didn't even meet her officially… Anyway, she did come by the station the other day, when Ace was working. He was talking to you on the phone when she came looking for him. The station issn’t exactly private if you're not in the rooms, and he wasn't. Maybe she overheard the conversation between the two of you?” He exhales your name on the other side. “She was barely here for five minutes. Ace told her off and she left pouting. I'm sure that whatever she told you was meant to try and split you up.”

You're seething now. Obviously it was meant to split you two up! She couldn't know about your trust issues, but anyone who's dating Ace has to have them. He's a player. There will always be a nagging feeling about other girls he's been with. So it wasn't exactly a shot in the dark. She baited the hook and you swallowed it whole. 

You can bet she's just waiting for you to blow up your relationship - or beginnings of one - to smithereens so she can pick up Ace's pieces and help him get over you. 

“Fucking hell, she will!”

Luffy laughs on the other end. A short shishishi that gets you laughing along with him. “That's the spirit!”

Tears are still streaming down your face. But you might've reached a decision. You're going to take that leap of faith and give all of yourself to Ace. No reservations. You need to accept him for who he is. 

And, more importantly, you need to trust him. 

The previous plan will have to go back into action. Tell him you love him. Maybe you can build from there? Because you do love him. And there's no bitch in the world that's going to tear you apart like that. 

“Thank you, Luffy. That was enlightening. I needed that.” You sigh into the phone, your voice much lighter. 

“Anytime! You know, I really like my dumb brother.” And he laughs again, making you chuckle with him. “I've never seen him as happy as he's been these last few days. So talk to him soon, will you?”

You promise to do it first thing tomorrow since sleep is finally claiming you, and you say your goodbyes to your friend. Before going to bed, you pick up Ace's pillow from the floor and check out his window - the lights are now out. 

Okay, you'll both get to sleep on it. Tomorrow is a new day. 

-*-

Yet, tomorrow begins with a raging storm. There's pouring rain everywhere and you rush to help Shanks with the animals. Both of you are working hard and pulling the hay bales inside the barn, because the forecast did not foresee this deluge, and the bales were fine outside. 

Shanks tells you he tried to call Ace to help - your heart somersaults - but he was heading to the station to help since there were floods all over town. 

Well that's just another thing the storm manages to hinder. Your encounter with Ace. You were planning on heading to his house as soon as you helped Shanks, to talk with him, yet you can't do that now because he's not there. 

And there's no use in calling him. For two reasons, actually: one, he's probably super busy and two, the lines are acting up because of the storm and the service is down. 

So you decide to wait out the storm. 

Yet, the afternoon rolls by without any sign of the storm stopping, and now you're overly anxious. Ace is still not home - the jeep is out - and you need to speak with him. You don't think Luffy would've shared your conversation with his brother so Ace is probably still feeling devastated by the way you parted yesterday. You feel responsible. And you miss him so much. 

You try to call him again and by the third time, you finally get through. 

Ace sputters your name with surprise. “Ace!” You can barely hear him and you're pretty sure he can barely hear you. There's lots of static and the thunder and pouring rain don't help at all. “Ace! Can you hear me?”

“Barely!” He says something else but you can't understand it. 

“Are you at the station?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to meet you there! We need to talk.”

You're not sure he heard you at all, but you think you hear him saying for you to stay home. Probably because of the storm. Yet, it seems like the rain has finally relented so what better time to go to him than now?

You're not quite sure if he hears you or not, but you need to get this off your chest before you go. “Ace, I love you.”

You hold on a second but are only greeted by static. He might not have heard you. 

Sighing, you get the car keys and send a text to your dad - even if you don’t know if he’ll get it or not, so you’ll leave a note in the kitchen as well. Shanks is over at Benn Beckman helping him because the roof of the barn broke and they need to fix it because all the animals are getting wet. Shanks promised he would not get on top of the roof, in case his back gave out, but he's still helping out any way he can. So you let him know you are going out so he doesn't worry. 

You've gotten into the habit of patting your car before turning the ignition and it responds well to praise, so that's exactly what you do before starting the engine and it doesn't let you down. 

Grinning, you make your way to the station, going well under the limit because the road is wet, slippery and the rain reduces your visibility significantly. 

You can't wait to see Ace. You need to feel him against you. There's an unending desire to feel his lips moving in tandem with yours, his tongue caressing your own as his hands explore you. The stupid silly grin doesn't leave your face. 

Not even when you spot the tiny black cat in the middle of the road and you swerve right to avoid hitting the poor thing. 

Not even when your car slips and slides as you push the brakes. 

Not when the deafening sound of metal crashing, windows breaking and the sickening crunch of broken bones fills your ears. 

It all happens too fast. 

Then darkness descends just as quickly.

[coleskingdom]

Want Me To Prove It

Will Ospreay x F Reader

Minors DNI NSFW

@midwestmade29

The tension between Will and I could be cut with a knife, the cat and mouse game had been fun, but I had made one snide remark and now I regretted ever saying it. The two of us had toyed with each other for weeks, the innuendos, then he had held a candy bar out of my reach, and the words that now haunted me when I said “ I don’t beg” his eyes flashed at the words, and a new game had begun.

“What do you mean we are sharing a room?” As he handed me a room key. “Why are you so nervous?” as he took my bag off my shoulder grazing my my arm as he did leading us towards the elevator. “ I’m not nervous just irritated, I don’t like sharing “ he stood behind me as he leaned in “Good neither do I” his low whisper felt on my neck I involuntarily shivered at his words.

I walked towards the room using the key to let us in. “ One bed seriously Will it’s one thing for us to be in a room together, but the same bed.” my eyes on his, “You’ve been in my bed before love, are you afraid I’m going to be a bit of naughty boy.” his grin made me weak in the knees. “ You’re not wrong but we’d watch a movie and then I’d go back to my room.” putting my phone down. “ Yeah and what would you do when you’d get back to your room?” his eyes on me, “Sleep Will, I’d go to sleep.” frustration and irritation in my voice, if he’d only knew the things I did and thoughts I had about him. Looking at him now though he looked as if he was reading my mind. “Y/N it’s one night, I’m just giving you a hard time, I’ll be a proper gentleman. I’m just giving you shit. I’m sorry if I took it too far.” his voice softer. “You’re fine, it’s me, I’m stressed and it’s been a rough day. It’s not your fault, I’m going to shower and get ready for bed.” reaching for my bag. “You haven’t eaten all day, I’ll order food, go shower, by the time you’re done. Food will be here and we can watch whatever you want.” he was always looking after me, but to be fair I was always looking after him as well.

I took a long shower psyching myself up that I was perfectly capable of sleeping next to that perfect man without it being an issue. He’s my friend, if I’m honest he’s my person. I put on my shorts and my favorite T-shirt, my hair in a messy bun my stomach in knots.

I opened the door, and there he was shirtless, and in those damn gray sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination. He brought in the food, and set it on the table, turning he sees me staring at him. “See something you want?” leaving the food and walking towards me my back against the wall.

“ I bet I can make you beg” Will’s eyes scanning me, my focus on his lips, where he’s peeking his tongue out a little bit.

“I don’t beg” my voice portraying confidence my body doesn’t feel as he leans in his elbows enclosing me against the wall

“ Want me to prove it then” his words were my undoing as he leans into kiss me, his lips softer than I had imagined. He pulls back slightly to see if he’s misread the situation. I close the last inch parting our lips, teasing his tongue for a second before he seizes control, dominating the moment the way he always does.Tasting, sucking, nipping, devouring me. "You think I'll get right into it, don't you?" he humorously hums in my mouth. "Love.. I haven't even started yet. You've no idea what you're getting into with me. I'll make you beg for more even while you're coming undone.”He nudges my chin with his nose, hot lips latching onto the delicate skin of my throat, sucking, pecking, biting between words. My mind focuses on him, every sense starved for his words and touch..

“Will, please" my eyes find his, “Please what? Tell me and I’ll give you what you need.”his mouth on my neck still, “ I want you, I need you, I b….” His hands move so fast that I’m naked and on the bed with him over me my hands on the waist band of the sweatpants tugging them down , he manages to kick them the rest of the way off.

"What do you taste like?" he muses.The question isn't aimed at me. More like he's voicing his own thoughts, twirling his tongue over my pebbled nipple. He toys the other between his fingers, pinching, rolling, and driving me wild.

Satisfied with my hips arching off the mattress, pleading for more, he grips my thighs, pushes my legs back, then rests my ankles over his shoulders. The first tiny kiss to my mound forces the air from my lungs.

"You're trouble," I sigh. "Stop teasing." “Teasing is the best part, sweet girl”

Spreading me with his thumbs, he licks me slowly, bottom to top, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over my clit. And then he sucks. Hard. The move lights up my body and my thighs quiver in time with a surprised gasp.”You taste like mine." I grasp his hair, forcing him back down, and feel him smile against me.

"Greedy... needy... pretty little thing." He punctuates every word with a thorough lick, and then... the show begins.

"Oh my," I mewl, fisting his hair.

"Will.” He doesn't respond with words.Instead, he slides one finger inside, timing the thrusts with the flicks of his tongue. He doesn't let me come when the orgasm looms close by. He eases off, kissing and biting my inner thigh as his hands knead my hips. He does it again but this time “ Sweet girl look at me, tell me how much you want to come.” eyes. “ Will please let me come.”His head drops down, torturing my clit with his tongue. I'm so ready for the orgasm it's mere seconds before it hits. I'm vaguely aware I've clamped my thighs around his head, holding him hostage as he licks me through the release.

"I've got you, love."He's suddenly closer, higher, his arms flush to my sides. He kisses me as in one long, slow thrust almost has me coming again. He drives himself home, letting out a low growl that forces my body into high alert.

"Fuck," he breathes, pressing his lips to my forehead. "So wet. So tight... so fucking mine.”His movements are slow, caring,tender. So slow so thorough that I feel every inch of him. His grip on my waist is nothing short of possessive. His thrusts calculated to drive me crazy. His light eyes filled with emotion, the pace is not frantic or mindless. Like with everything he does it builds to the moment every nibbling, biting kiss, every time he sinks into me, every push meticulous...as I come hard, tears fall from my eyes as I understand everything so clearly. Not changing the pace one bit as he drives himself home over again. The weight of his big body pinning me to the mattress magnifies how erotic this feels. How close we are. I feel him come inside me, the groan the restraint, the little moan as he buries his head in the crook of my neck.

My arms wraparound him keeping him there, for this moment it all makes perfect sense. I’m afraid of what I’ll see when the moment is over. “Darling“as he turns his head into the side of my neck. “Yeah” my words not knowing what’s coming next. He rolls off of me , laying on his side, “ hey look at me, you don’t get to hide from me. If we need to talk let’s talk.” His hand brushing my cheek “ what if? “ I began “ What if what?” his tone gentle “ What if all of this just made perfect fucking sense, and I don’t know if I can go back to how we were before?” I hear him let out his breath as I close my eyes realizing the absolute truth and vulnerability in my words. “Darling please open your eyes. Look at me, I don’t want to go back.”

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Spooky Scary Sourwolf

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Spooky Scary Sourwolf 

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: It's October, which means Stiles is officially 80% more annoying than he normally is at any other time of the year. This Halloween, Stiles's new obsession is some dance party remix of the song Spooky Scary Skeletons. It's a catchy tune, even Derek will admit that. But after hearing it blasted through Roscoe's shitty speakers for the hundredth time that week, everyone in the pack is sick to death of it, especially Derek. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to be eaten, preparing for the foul breath of some horrible fanged monster, but it's actually — huh, minty fresh. And — that's interesting — the weight pressed on top of him is very familiar, his body responding to it in a way entirely ill-befitting to getting murdered. He opens one bleary eye to find none other than Derek hovering above him, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid handsome face. "Gotcha," he says, smirking as Stiles struggles to break free. "That'll teach you to fuck with my phone settings. Now, change it back from that godawful song, or I'll make good on my promise to rip your throat out with my teeth."

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It's October, which means Stiles is officially 80% more annoying than he normally is at any other time of the year. Whether it's taking autumn decorating from Pinterest-worthy to hoarder with a Halloween fetish (how many pumpkins is too many pumpkins? — according to Stiles, the limit does not exist) making himself sick on too much Halloween candy (because the idiot always buys two bowls worth of candy — one to hand out to trick-or-treaters, and one he keeps all to himself) or driving his packmates insane with some new Halloween themed internet craze, Stiles always goes way over the top when it comes to spooky season (or spoopy season, as Stiles likes to call it, despite Derek's many protests.)

This Halloween, Stiles's new obsession is some dance party remix of the song Spooky Scary Skeletons. It's a catchy tune, even Derek will admit that. But after hearing it blasted through Roscoe's shitty speakers for the hundredth time that week, everyone in the pack is sick to death of it, especially Derek. 

It would maybe, maybe be tolerable if it was only contained to car rides, but it's literally everywhere. He's always singing it in the shower, humming it under his breath during pack meetings, glued to his phone watching reels and tiktoks of other people performing funny little dances to it. 

The little shit even found a way to set it as Derek's ringtone, finding any excuse he can to call him as often as possible so it's just constantly going off. Derek, being the technologically illiterate one in the relationship, doesn't know how to change it back, and of course Stiles refuses to do it, because he thinks it's hilarious.

"Stiles, I swear to God, if you don't change it back, I'll give you something to really be scared about," Derek threatens, but the sound of that damnable ringtone duetting with Stiles's giddy laughter drowns him out.

Derek can't take it anymore. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

The next day, Stiles gets a text from Derek, luring him over with the promise of pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies and Hocus Pocus. But when Stiles gets there, Derek is nowhere to be found. He lets himself in with his copy of the keys, wandering around in the pitch black, calling out Derek's name, but there's no answer. Derek's loft is normally very warm and inviting, but with all the lights off, it's admittedly kind of creepy. Stiles tries the light switch, but no matter which direction he flips it, nothing happens. The power must've gone out — in the whole building, from the looks of it. 

The place is feeling more and more like Derek's old digs in the abandoned railway station, growing creepier by the second, and Stiles's feeling of dread along with it. High above him, a raven caws as it flutters through an open window, and Stiles lets out a startled screech, dropping his phone (his only source of light) in the process. He's definitely on edge now, hands shaking as he reaches for his phone and dials Derek's number. Spooky Scary Skeletons starts playing from some distant corner of the room — muffled, like he's hearing it through an old gramophone. Derek never picks up.

Stiles is definitely starting to panic now, heartbeat pounding in his ears, palms sweating as he struggles to keep a good grip on his phone. He hits redial and tries to follow the sound of the once-amusing ringtone, but there doesn't seem to be a distinct source — it's like it's coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A sudden break in the silence steals his attention to the far corner of the room — an eerie skittering sound, like a stone being skipped across concrete — and Stiles jumps. A few seconds later, it happens again. Over and over again, growing closer and closer, until something drops from the ceiling and lands with a deafening clink right by his feet — a loose bolt that looks like it came from one of the rafters. 

Slowly, swallowing against the terror lodged in his throat, Stiles glances upward, and lets out a scream to rival a banshee's. The last thing he sees before he hits the ground is a pair of bright red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. The creature pounces on him, sitting bodily on his thighs, pinning his arms above his head, and oh fuck, this is how he dies. This creature took out his super hot werewolf boyfriend, and now it's going to take him out, too.

He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to be eaten, preparing for the foul breath of some horrible fanged monster, but it's actually — huh, minty fresh. And — that's interesting — the weight pressed on top of him is very familiar, his body responding to it in a way entirely ill-befitting to getting murdered. He opens one bleary eye to find none other than Derek hovering above him, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid handsome face.

"Gotcha," he says, smirking as Stiles struggles to break free long enough to knee him in the balls. "That'll teach you to fuck with my phone settings. Now, change it back from that godawful song, or I'll make good on my promise to rip your throat out with my teeth."

Derek's smile is positively wolfish, moonlight glinting silver off his half-shifted fangs. Stiles goes still, staring up at him with one eyebrow arched in provocation.

"How very…spooky of you," he says, eyes alight with mischief as an impish grin curls across his face.

"No," Derek groans, gleeful expression fading to one of pure horror. "Don't do it."

"Spooky scary sourwolf," Stiles intones in a lilting sing-song voice, before bursting into peals of laughter. 

Derek heaves a long-suffering sigh and rolls over onto the floor next to him.

"I'm divorcing you," Derek decides, reaching out across the space between them to link his pinky finger with Stiles's.

"We're not even married," Stiles points out, nudging Derek's shoulder with his own.

"I will marry you for the sole purpose of divorcing you," Derek compromises.

Stiles barks out a laugh and looks over at him, eyes as bright as his smile.

"I want an autumn wedding," he says, absentmindedly rubbing circles over Derek's ring finger with the pad of his thumb.

"Fine," Derek replies with a tone that suggests gruff indifference, features softening as a smile works its way onto his face.

A few moments pass between them in companionable silence, the two of them gazing up at the mosaic of a starry night sky filtering in through the wall of windows at the far edge of Derek's loft.

"I'm thinking chocolate," Derek proposes, glancing over at Stiles with a guarded, hopeful look in his eyes. "For the wedding cake."

"Oh absolutely," Stiles agrees, his answering smile nothing short of beatific.

"And do you know what song I want for our first dance as husband and sourhusband?" he asks, lips pressed together in a failed attempt to hold back a tidal wave of laughter.

"Oh no," Derek groans, but Stiles has already taken out his phone and pressed play, Spooky Scary Skeletons blaring out of the speakers in a tinny warble. He didn't think it was possible to have a full-blown one-person dance party while lying on a concrete floor, but if anyone can manage it, it's Stiles. Derek glances over at him, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches Stiles flail his airborne arms and legs to the music, and sighs. One day, he's going to marry this lunatic.

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Cookies and Brownies - Gaz x Reader

Content Warnings - Fluff with some very, very minor angst.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Normally, Gaz did not find leaving his flat so difficult. Usually he was already gnawing at the bit to get back onto the field from his mandatory leave, to get back to doing something instead of lying around. Well now he had a reason to want to stay, for the person next door who also happens to work at his favorite bakery/cafe.

There is something cruel about that, ironically cruel. Gaz has never had any trouble getting people to come home with him, sometimes he didn’t even need to put on any of his charm. But he knows it was because of his looks, charming like a prince in a fairytale. Was it the military lifestyle? Was that why he found it so hard to keep people around him and wanting him? Maybe.

But you, you were different. You didn’t see his return to the military as a goodbye, closing your door on whatever is happening between the two of you. No, you worked out a solution in mere seconds. Gift packages, he’d seen some men he’s worked with before get them. Packages usually from loved ones, like family or partners. Sometimes from friends. Gaz hadn’t gotten one since his early days, back when his grandmother was still around. God rest her soul.

It’s two weeks later, two weeks into being at this base in this fucking desert that the package arrives. His name is called out alongside others and he is handed a package, it has several postmarks slapped onto it with your handwriting on the box for the address.

His stomach twists at the sight of your handwriting, how is that possible? How can he feel that way over handwriting? It’s not just anyone’s handwriting, Gaz thought, it's yours. Distinctly and completely yours. Something no other person could replicate, just you.

Gaz waits until he’s in his tent, empty thankfully, to cut open the package. Inside there is a letter on top of several tins that his mind immediately thinks are sewing supplies until he connects the dots. He opens the letter first, imagining his grandmother slapping the back of his head for being rude and going for the gifts first.

More of your handwriting, his heart pounds as he reads through the letter. He can’t help but rub his thumb over where you wrote his name. Kyle. His real name, not a call sign given to him years ago. Kyle Garrick.

Kyle opens the first tin and finds it filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. It dawns on Kyle then that there are four tins, which means lots of baked goods. He licks his lips as he pulls out the other tins and opens them, just to know which one’s hold which.

There is another tin of cookies, white macadamia nut and two tins of brownies. One looks like the classic kind and the other filled with cookie-brownies. He feels like a wolf staring down prey, unguarded sheep ready to be eaten. Before he digs in, he puts the tins away and rips a piece of paper from his notebook and writes.

Dear Kyle,

Hello! I hope the package found you alright and that I had added enough postmarks for it to make the journey. I hope you’re still at base and not somewhere fighting bad guys haha. Things here have seriously slowed down or maybe its because our best customer isn’t currently here. I made some cookies and brownies although they might be stale. If they are, I’m sorry but I’m not sure how to stop that from happening. Do you have any kind of favorite candies? If you send me a letter with your favorites I’ll be sure to include it in the next batch, maybe even bake it into the cookies.

It’s been raining impossibly often but according to Mrs. Thompson its that time of the year. Is that true or is she trying to keep me from rightfully complaining about not seeing the sun in a week? Why is it that when you left the sun decided to hide behind rain clouds? Do you have some kind of deal worked out with the weather? If so, let me in on it, there’s only so much rain a person can handle. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy the likely stale cookies and brownies.

[itgirlgyu]

txt if you had explosive diarrhoea (and it is was your fault!) UNSERIOUS*

۫ ִ ﹗ 𓏸 💥 txt!ot5 x gn!reader. ⊹ ݁  🥛 ⋆ WARNING!!! lots of shit talk as it is a normal part of life!!   THIS IS A JOKE!!!

CHOI YEONJUN!

oh he's there for you.

a bit too much than what you would consider appropriately sweet tbh.

he's right there behind you chasing after you when you're running for the toilet just to make sure you're not dropping dead on the way.

he's right there outside the bathroom door assuring you that he'd be there for you even if you end up clogging his bathroom.

he bought a new bathroom plunger anyway he's happy he's getting to put it to a good use because of you.

while you're in there trying to shit as quietly as possible cause you know he has his ears against the door making sure you're not in too much pain.

tries to help you but ends up making it worse by feeding you bananas.

after seeing you take 10 trips to the bathroom in 20 minutes tries to force you to the hospital.

but he stops after you make him get the medicines.

even though he's a little bit overbearing, he makes you feel so comfortable and wakes up with you every time you have to go the bathroom

sitting on the bed all serious with his hands on his chin as if you were performing a surgery in the bathroom.

after you kind of get better, that's when the teasing starts.

dangles spicy food in front of you because you got diarrhoea bc eating too much of it.

chokes on it immediately after.

CHOI SOOBIN.

im not denying the fact he won't be all sweet, and nice, and caring about your dire condition.

which YOU got yourself into.

but I'd be lying if I said he didn't grimace a few times.

because that's only human nature to feel like that when the person next to you is about to shit themselves but that doesn't mean soobin loves you any less.

now you're fighting both for your love and the urge to shit your organs out.

he's outside the bathroom, scratching at the door to explain his side and prove his love for you while you were on the toilet rethinking the course of this relationship.

it would have been kind of dramatic romantic, something out of a movie scene if your ass wasn't on fire.

"not only my ass is burning but my heart is too because of you."

and it gets worse when he brings up if you didn't pig out on those chili ramen this situation wouldn't have transpired to begin with, and then he bit his tongue.

so now after another four violent sessions, sniffling and talking about ending it all, you two finally make up after exchanging some sappy declarations of love and then go to get ice cream.

soobin thinks that this has only brought you together and he's ready to buy adult diapers for you with his own money knowing how expensive diapers can get.

CHOI BEOMGYU.

he'd be concerned about you.

if he wasn't busy laughing his ass off.

you're there fighting for your life and the rights of your asshole that is getting absolutely demolished.

and he's outside the bathroom fighting to get his lungs to work properly because he laughed a bit too hard.

asks your rhetorical questions like how do you even end up in this situation while wheezing

as if he was not the one who instigated you to accept a challenge of eating however many chilli's you could

when you rightfully blame him, he's like,

"oh you could have just eaten one"

that dessert may be worth it but the fear dying while shitting the toilet isn't

and you decide to shove his head into the toilet for putting you in this predicament when you come out of the bathroom for the umpteenth time.

but those threats soon melt away in your throat when you see the arrays of things he has gotten to help you get better

from an assortment of candies that you love to the flowers you've once told you liked the smell of along with all sorts of medicines for your stomach issue.

absolutely doesn't stop making diarrhoea jokes for a number of weeks tho.

you could be arguing about what to watch while having dinner and he would be like,

"oh don't you have somewhere to go? i just bought this couch you know?"

KANG TAEHYUN.

oh he's big mad.

and you're like confused, like taehyun?!? am i not suffering enough?

he's sitting on the end of the bed with his chin on top of his fingers, brooding as though you're giving birth to a bastard child of his.

he's just mad at you for not caring for you health and downing four packets of spicy ramen as though he has had you starved for a few weeks

like have you heard of basic etiquettes?

forget that? does common sense ring a bell?

and now you're sitting on the toilet thinking,

"are these tears bc my bootyhole burning or because taehyun is roasting me goddammit ?"

like this is not the time to ride the ass my bro

but he's also like super concerned that's why he got a little mean because when you come out you see him sweating more than you

got you thinking like

damn is diarrhoea contagious?

and he's gonna take you to the ER and gonna get you to sit through the test and tell the doctor why you are here for and what's the texture of your stool and whose fault is it truly

he thinks shaming you might actually get you to understand your fault

and it kinda does work

but don't worry he's giving you head pats and kisses as he feeds you the medicine.

HUENING KAI.

when you tell him you're having involuntary radioactive missile launched from your asshole

his first response was, "okay let's get you some adult diapers."

kinda weird how it was not to get you to the hospital but you were honestly expecting you a, "EW"

however strange his answer may be, you were sort of fluttered at his suggestion until you realised he actually meant it.

he was already pulling out his wallet and you had to physically stop him and ask him just to get you some medicine

doesn't complain a bit about the smell when he's sitting outside the bathroom door giving you company when you exhaust yourself and collapse in the bathroom.

force feeds you electrolytes while telling you that you will get better soon :(

hes there for you at every step like he's holding your hand as you drink water and now wait for you stomach to stop churning.

he's there wiping the sweat off your forehead with his napkin.

you might as well have gotten on one knee and proposed by the way he was taking care of you.

didn't flinch once when you darted and the smell could make a skunk hang its head in shame.

"it happens baby," he says while patting your head.

you cry.

he takes a picture of you two to commemorate this event that brought you two closer and a reason why yall got married

everyone assumes its a picture from when you were in labour

you always jab his foot when he tries to correct the people

COPYRIGHTS RESERVED TO ITGIRLGYU 23'. FEEDBACKS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

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