#her full-bodied laughs mean everything to me

[beefcakekinard]

"Grab a seat."

Bobby claps Buck's shoulder as he passes on his way into the kitchen. Well - sure, it's got a fridge and a stove, but Bobby's definition of kitchen vs kitchenette leans a little spoiled these days. They can't get out of this rental fast enough.

He comes back with two cups of coffee and sits opposite Buck at the table. He waits as Buck adds a heaping teaspoon of sugar to his mug, glowering at the surface of it while he stirs. He waits as Buck sighs with his whole body and flops back against his chair. Bobby blows the steam from his coffee, takes a scalding sip, and waits. Years of experience have taught him that when Buck's really chewing on something, the easiest way to get it out of him is to outlast his patience.

"I miss Tommy."

It helps that Buck and patience are barely acquaintances.

Buck's continuing the thought before Bobby can even open his mouth. "I can't get him out of my head, Bobby. It's, it's like he's haunting me! Everything I do reminds me of him, even if it has nothing to do with him, and I feel like I'm going crazy!"

Bobby waits. Buck pouts. When it's clear he doesn't have anything more to add, Bobby clasps his hands and leans forward.

"Why do you miss him?"

Buck rears back, looking confused. Bobby spreads his hands.

"You think about him when he's not around. What is it you're thinking about?" he asks. Buck considers the question and flushes. Bobby quickly adds, "Keeping it PG."

Buck scratches his nose, keeping his eyes averted. He takes a deep breath.

"I think... I think about how excited I always was to see him," Buck says to the tabletop. Bobby takes another sip of coffee.

"I think about - how I never had to pretend. Like he saw me, just me, and that was enough. I like, I liked, the way he made me feel about myself." Buck curls in on himself and picks at a thread on his jeans. "I, I miss who I was when he was around."

"Just because Tommy's not around anymore doesn't mean you can't be yourself," Bobby says. Buck takes the bait; he whips his head up to look at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

"No, you, you don't understand, Bobby -" Buck leans towards him, insistent. "I miss how he cares so much about everyone even though he tries to look stoic and casual. I miss how he ugly-laughs at his own stupid jokes. I miss the way he talks to kids like they're adults and I miss how gentle he is with anything smaller than him. I miss how he fills his own dishwasher wrong and I have to fix it every time. I miss him more now than the day he broke up with me, what's wrong with me?"

The only sounds in the room are the ticking of the wall clock and the whooshing in-out of Buck's heavy breathing. Bobby waits until he calms down a bit, until he sits back in his chair again and awaits Bobby's input, looking like he's in anguish over it.

"You know he's not perfect." Bobby feels like he's lobbing a live grenade.

Buck scoffs. "Jesus, Bobby, if anyone knows that right now it's me. But I don't want perfect, I just want Tommy."

The clock ticks. Bobby drinks some more coffee. He waits.

Realization overtakes Buck's face between one blink and the next. "Oh," he says. Bobby smiles, enjoys his coffee, and waits some more.

"Oh!"

There it is.

Buck jumps up, springing to his feet like a cartoon character. "I, I have to go, I gotta - I have to go," he says, all in a rush. "Thanks, Bobby!" he calls over his shoulder before running out the front door, slamming it behind himself. The door opens a crack, just long enough for Buck to call, "Bye Bobby!" into the apartment before he's slamming it closed again. He sounds like a herd of galloping horses running down the hall.

Bobby smiles to himself. He checks the clock - Athena will be home soon, and he feels like whipping up one of her favourites for dinner. He takes the mugs - one empty, one full - into the kitchen and leaves them in the sink while he gets started.

[maretinelli]

FOR THE BEST MOM

Lewis Hamilton X Wife!fem!reader

Summary: When Lewis and Y/n have already lost two babies during pregnancy, but he never fails to send her flowers on Mother's Day and reminds her that even without them there, she is a good mother.

Words: 3K+

Warnings: Mention of pregnancy loss, mention of child loss, anguish, anguish, and anguish until the end. But Lew is a good husband, and this will make you cry.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And this story leaves me COMPLETELY speechless, I don't know why I wrote it, but I needed some anguish. Sorry, and grab some tissues.

MASTERLIST

⚠️SENSITIVE CONTENT⚠️

The love between Y/n and Lewis was always strong, built on complicity, respect and admiration. They were partners in everything, in joys and challenges, in moments of lightness and in those of greater weight. Just as they had promised on their wedding day.

Every shared laugh and every silent touch carried a deep meaning. They had each other, and that was always enough. At least, that's what they tried to believe.

The day they discovered their first pregnancy was one of the happiest of their lives. Y/n was in shock for a few seconds before letting happiness flood her. Lewis, upon hearing the news, felt a wave of emotion take over his body. Tears came before he could even contain them. He lifted her into the air, spinning her around carefully, his chest exploding with joy. Every kiss he placed on her face was a silent thank you for that gift.

They spent the next few days daydreaming. They imagined what it would be like to hold the baby for the first time, how they would decorate the room, what traits they would inherit from each other. Life seemed even more colorful, full of new promises.

But then, it all came crashing down.

Shortly after, Y/n started to feel unwell. At first, she tried to ignore it, believing it was something temporary.

But then the doctors broke the news, and it came as a brutal blow. The silence in the room felt overwhelming, and the air became too heavy to breathe. All the happiness, dreams, and plans they had made were gone in an instant.

The next few days were cloudy. Y'n felt like the world around her was spinning in slow motion as Lewis tried to be her stronghold. But at night, when she fell asleep, he would let the tears flow silently.

A year later, a new positive test. The fear was still there, haunting them both, but there was also hope. The rainbow baby they had wanted so much was finally on the way. They decided to celebrate, even though deep down they held on to happiness with caution,

But once again, pain struck them.

The second loss was even worse. There were no more words of comfort that could fill the void. The silence became more frequent, the conversations about the future with children diminished, and the pain settled between them like a constant presence.

Years passed, and the subject of 'having children' ceased to be mentioned. They moved on with their lives, still in love, still partners, but with the feeling that two pieces of their hearts were missing.

And the flowers arrived.

On the first Mother's Day after the second loss, Y/n noticed the bouquet of flowers left on the table. She hadn't connected it with the fact that it was Mother's Day. It was just a silent gesture from Lewis, a tribute he made without expecting any reaction. But it made her smile and thank her husband for the beautiful flowers.

The following year, he repeated the gesture, but this time he added a note. When Y/n found the small piece of paper among the petals, Lewis's words made tears fall before she could control them.

'To the best mommy our little ones could ever have. I know they're not here physically, but I believe they feel all your love. And I feel it too. You're amazing, Y/n. You always will be.'

She cried until Lewis got home. And when he found her clutching the note to her chest, all he could do was wrap his arms around her and hold her tight.

The years continued to pass, and with them, flowers became tradition.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

3 years after the second loss.

It was Mother’s Day, and Lewis wasn’t in town. He wanted to be with Y/n and her mother, to hold her in his arms and remind her that she was never alone. But his running that weekend kept him from going home.

Y/n spent the day with her mother, having lunch together, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. But, even surrounded by love, there was an emptiness that persisted, a feeling of longing for something that never came to be.

On the way home, as she drove through the quiet city streets, one of her favorite songs played on the dashboard of her car. The sound brought comfort, but the tears came before she could stop them.

They fell silently, aimlessly, without her really noticing until she had to wipe them away with the back of her hand. She sighed deeply, trying to push away the thoughts that haunted her.

When he reached the garage, he turned off the car and stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath. Gathering his strength. When he opened the front door, the low sound of Roscoe's snoring in the living room filled the silence. A soft laugh escaped his lips, mixed with the tears that still insisted on falling.

Before she could close the door, a voice called her name. She turned around and saw the doorman of the condominium approaching with a gentle smile.

"Good evening, Mrs. Hamilton."

Y/n walked down the steps and shook the older man's hand affectionately. "Good night!"

The doorman then held out a bouquet to her, a beautiful arrangement of lilies and white roses. "Mr. Hamilton asked me to deliver this to you. I forgot about it when you came through the gate just now."

Y/n blinked in surprise. She took the bouquet delicately, feeling the soft scent of the flowers fill the air. "Thank you" She said with a small but sincere smile.

The man nodded and returned to his post, while Y/n hurriedly climbed the front stairs of the house.

As soon as she entered the house, she walked to the kitchen, placing the flowers on the table before carefully removing the note stuck between the petals. Her hands trembled slightly as she unfolded the paper.

'To the best mom in the world.

I know today is a difficult day, and I wish I could be by your side, to hold your hand and tell you that you were never alone on this journey. You will always be the mother of our little ones, no matter where they are. I know that if they could, they would tell you how much they love you and how proud they are of you. I know I am.

You are the strongest, most incredible woman I know, and my heart will always be yours. Forever. All my love, Lewis.'

The tears came before she could stop them. But this time, they were not tears of sadness, but of love.

She ran her fingers over the words, taking each one in. That man. That man always knew exactly what to say, even from far away.

Quickly drying her tears, she took out her cell phone and took a photo of the bouquet, sending it to Lewis with a short but sentimental message.

Before locking the screen, he read the note once more, a small but genuine smile dancing on his lips.

Lewis always found a way to remind her that even in the quietest, most painful moments, she was never alone.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

4 years after the second loss.

Mother's Day had arrived once again. Four years had passed since the second loss, and somehow Y/n felt like she was doing a little better this year.

She spent the afternoon with her mother and siblings, enjoying the day with laughter, stories, and shared memories. There were moments when she felt homesick, but the weight was a little lighter. She knew that Lewis was with her mother too, and that at the end of the day, he would be home to her arms.

When she arrived, the house was silent. Roscoe was sleeping peacefully on the couch, and a small smile appeared on Y/n's lips. She turned on some soft music on her cell phone, letting the melody fill the rooms as she prepared dinner. She cut the vegetables calmly, humming softly to the song that was playing.

It was then that he heard the familiar sound of the lock unlocking.

Seconds later, Lewis's voice sounded in the entrance hall, speaking softly to Roscoe, who had come to meet him excitedly. Her smile widened without her realizing it.

Lewis appeared in the kitchen doorway, watching his wife for a moment. She was stirring the pot with a calm expression, humming softly, and it warmed his heart in an indescribable way.

He approached silently, holding a bouquet in his hands. As soon as he reached her, he leaned over to place a soft kiss on her shoulder.

Y/n smiled and turned to him, touching his face briefly before giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"How was your day?" He asked softly.

"It was good. My mom made that broccoli lasagna she always makes and we spent the day looking at old photos. She even sent some for you to see," he replied, and Y/n laughed. "By the way, she said hi to you too."

She smiled fondly. "I spent the day with my mom, and my brothers were in town too. It was nice...fun even."

Lewis nodded, and for a few moments, silence reigned between them. Y/n went back to stirring the pan, and he just watched her, as if recording every detail of that moment.

Then, with a small smile, he held out the bouquet to her. Y/n held the flowers, a tender glint in her eyes. She already knew the reason for that gesture.

Lewis kissed her cheek before murmuring, "I love you." Then he pulled back a little, giving her space to read the note attached to the bouquet.

Y/n opened the small envelope and skimmed over the words. Lewis still couldn't say all of that out loud. It had always been easier for him to write, to let the words spill out onto the paper so she could feel them in every letter.

'My love,

Another Mother's Day, another year by your side, and another reminder that you will always be the best mom our little ones could ever have. I know they are watching over us, and I know that if they could, they would tell you how much they love you and how grateful they are for you. You have always been and always will be an incredible mother. No matter where they are, the love you have for them echoes in every corner of the universe. I love you, Y/n. Forever. With all my heart, Lewis.'

The tears came before she could stop them. But this time, they didn't just carry sadness. They brought love, longing, memories.

With a tender smile on her lips, she turned to him and hugged him tightly. "I love you too, baby daddy." The words hit her before she could think.

Y/n felt them in her heart, and Lewis felt them in his soul.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as if he would never let go. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, soaking in that silent but meaningful moment.

Then, Y/n sighed and broke the silence with a light tone, "My nephews were hell today. You should have seen the chaos at my mother's house.

Lewis let out a low laugh, feeling the air lighten.

They didn't avoid the subject, but they were still healing. They talked about it as best they could, in whatever way they could, respecting each other's time.

And somehow they knew they were walking together, side by side. Always.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

5 years after the second loss.

The day had been peaceful. For the first time in years, Mother's Day was not marked by heavy silences or painful moments. Lewis and Y/n spent lunch with Carmen, laughing at the stories she told about Lewis's childhood. Afterwards, they had dinner at Y/n's mother's house, enjoying time with her brothers and nephews.

Neither of them mentioned the loss they shared. They just lived in the moment, allowing themselves to feel the lightness of being with family.

Now night spread across the sky as Lewis drove back home. The car was filled with the sound of Y/n's excited voice, telling something funny that happened at work.

"And then he thought I was serious!" She laughed, leaning her head back against the bench. "You should have seen his face!"

Lewis laughed along, shaking his head. "I swear, sometimes I think your job is just a big sitcom and you're the lead."

Y/n laughed, feeling her chest lighten. But as the laughter died down, she realized Lewis wasn't heading home.

"Where are we going?" She asked, curious.

Lewis smiled sideways and placed a hand on her thigh, giving it a light rub. "I'm just looking for an open place to buy something."

"What thing?"

"Surprise."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but smiled. She knew there was no point in insisting. So she just went back to telling stories about work, and Lewis listened attentively as they drove through the city.

A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a 24-hour store.

"What are you going to do?" Y/n asked as soon as he turned off the car.

Lewis smiled. "I'll be back in a few seconds." He leaned over, kissed her on the cheek, and got out of the car.

Y/n laughed to herself and started changing music on the dashboard, waiting for him.

When Lewis returned, he held a single rose in his hands. He opened the door and handed the flower to her with a small smile.

Y/n frowned, but took the rose, laughing. "Thank you..."

Lewis took a deep breath and looked at her. "I didn't have time to buy a bigger bouquet," he said softly. "But I had to do it today. You know!"

Y/n understood instantly. Her chest tightened, but not in a bad way. Just intense.

Then, for the first time, Lewis began to speak. "I never knew how to put it into words. You know. I used to write it on notes, but now I'm a little better at saying it out loud," he began, his voice low but firm. "All these years, I've tried to move on, I've tried to accept it... But the truth is, a part of me has always felt like I failed you. That I should have done more." Y/n squeezed the rose between her fingers, feeling her heart tighten in her chest. "I've imagined so many times what it would be like. You holding our baby in your arms. Us choosing names, setting up the nursery, fighting over who would stay up late at night... I always knew you would be an amazing mother, Y/n. And it hurts me to know that we never had that chance."

His voice wavered at the end, and Y/n felt tears well up in her eyes. She ran her fingers down Lewis’s cheek, feeling the texture of his stubble beneath her touch.

"You didn't fail me, Lew," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "And you'd make an amazing father. I always knew that."

His eyes met hers, seeking comfort in the midst of their shared pain.

"I know it still hurts" Y/n continued, smiling sadly. "But... today I feel like I can breathe a little better. I'm taking the courage to say this out loud to you."

Lewis smiled slightly, bringing his hand to hers and intertwining their fingers. With the other, he places it on her cheek and smiles. "You are an incredible woman. And a very good mommy, with or without them here. I love you." Lewis kisses her, Y/n smiles and returns the kiss.

When they lose their breath, Lewis still keeps his hands intertwined with hers and starts the car, to go home now. Y/n smiled at the rose in her hand and went back to talking about the funny moments at work.

When they got home, Lewis opened the door and let Y/n in first. As soon as she stepped into the living room, Roscoe came running up to her, wagging his tail excitedly.

"Hey, kiddo" Y/n smiled, running her hand through the dog's fur.

She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a vase to put the rose in. When Lewis arrived shortly after, Y/n was leaning over the counter, looking at the flower with a smile on her face.

The silence stretched for a few seconds before she took a deep breath and hesitantly closed the distance between them. "I... I still want to have children."

Lewis was quiet for a moment, but then he nodded and walked over to her. Y/n looked at her husband, feeling her heart beat faster. "All of this still hurts." She confessed, "And I'll never forget. I don't want to forget. They're part of our history. But I want to move on."

Lewis nodded again, and Y/n felt his hand on hers, warm and comforting. She swallowed hard before asking, "Do you still want to have children with me?" She cried softly.

And then, that question caught Lewis off guard, pain shot through his chest and punched his heart. It made tears come to his eyes as well.

"Of course I do, love." His voice was choked, but full of conviction. "I've never wanted this with anyone else but you. I could never imagine my life without us building a family together." Y/n sobbed softly, and Lewis squeezed her hand tighter. "It still hurts to think about them... and I think it always will. But I want to move on with you, in whatever way, for as long as it takes. Not to forget... but to turn the page. To give new meaning to all of this. I'd face anything to be able to hold our baby in my arms one day" He whispered. "And I know that when that day comes, it will be worth every moment."

Y/n sobbed harder and pulled him into a tight hug. Lewis's chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to control his emotion, but he held her like he never wanted to let go.

For a long time, they stayed like that, just breathing together, feeling each other's warmth, allowing that moment to completely envelop them.

A comfortable silence fell, and then Roscoe came over to them, nudging Y/n’s leg with his nose. She laughed and bent down to pet the dog, while Lewis watched her, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

And in that moment, as he watched the woman he loved smiling softly, her eyes still shining with emotion, Lewis knew that no matter what the future brought, he would never be alone.

He had Y/n. And one day, they would have a little piece of their love in their arms.

Author: I had seen somewhere where the husband did exactly that to his wife, but I can't remember where I had read it. But anyway, I cried while reviewing it.

[blbyena]

boyfriend!mark x reader

Fluff - 1,128 words

(Slight cursing )

-

You pretend to flirt with the pizza guy on the phone...

Inspired by this tiktok

It’s one of those perfect nights where all you want to do is stay in with Mark, relax, and enjoy a quiet evening. The week’s been long, and the idea of ordering pizza and watching a movie together sounds like the perfect plan.

You're lying next to mark mindlessly playing with his fingers when suddenly he breaks the silence.

“Baby, can you order the pizza tonight? I’m feeling lazy,” Mark says, his voice a little raspy from rehearsals.

You smile, grabbing your phone with a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you pretend to dial the pizza place, you can already feel the fun bubbling inside you. Mark is sprawled out on his bed, and goes back to scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of what you’re about to do.

After a few seconds, simulating to wait for the ringtones , you put on your most playful tone. “Hi! I’d like to place an order for delivery, please,” you say, sounding sweet and casual.

You start listing the pizzas, but can’t help yourself. “Oh, and can you add a little extra cheese? I love it when people go the extra mile,” you ask sweetly, glancing over at Mark, who’s starting to look a little suspicious.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. “Why are you talking like that?” His voice is low, almost whispering.

You keep it casual, trying to act like nothing’s wrong. “What? I'm just ordering,” you say annoyed and go back to pretending a conversation between you and the pizza guy.

“Oh my god, yes this is her. How did you remember me?”

Mark raises an eyebrow, and his body shifts as he straightens on the bed. His tone goes from calm to something a little more annoyed. “Are you talking to a friend?”

You smirk, enjoying his jealous reaction way too much. “Yeah the employee there, he’s nice to me. Told me I have a cute laugh last time I ordered,” you tease. “He even offered me free pizzas last time!”

Mark gets closer now, his gaze becoming sharper as his jealousy grows. “He said that?” His voice is laced with an edge, and you can see the possessiveness taking over.

You can’t resist pushing it further, your voice getting even more giggly. “Yeah, it's been a while, still with my boyfriend” you add with a cheeky smile, glancing at Mark to see how he’s reacting.

Mark’s face goes from confused to full-on jealousy. He walks over to you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something else. “What do you mean "still with my boyfriend"? He asks about that???”

You giggle, loving every second of this, but then you drop the bomb. “Oh, sorry, it’s just my brother bothering me again,” you say casually, as if nothing’s wrong, then continue with a laugh, “He’s always annoying me.”

Mark freezes, his eyes going wide as he stares at you. “Wait—your brother?” he repeats, disbelief in his voice.

That’s when he snaps. In one quick move, he snatches the phone out of your hand, his jealousy and frustration boiling over. “Who the fuck are you telling that I'm your brother ” he asks, voice tight with both confusion and disbelief.

He brings the phone closer to his ear, ready to argue with whoever was flirting with you....but the line is silent.

Mark looks at you confused before everything clocks in.

You can’t hold back your laughter any longer and start giggling uncontrollably. “You should have seen your face!” you say, still laughing at the expression on his face.

Mark glares at you, jaw clenched. “I was seriously gonna go crazy” he mutters, looking a little hurt, but mostly relieved. His voice softens. “You’re so mean…” he says pouting.

You pull him into a hug, feeling a little guilty now, but you’re still laughing. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” you say, but he’s not having it.

But Mark doesn’t respond right away. He’s still sulking, avoiding eye contact, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. You can tell he’s upset, and it’s kind of cute in an annoying way.

You decide to keep playing around, your playful nature taking over. You lie down next to him, resting your head on his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Come on, baby, don’t be mad,” you say, planting small, teasing kisses on his neck and cheek.

Mark tries to ignore you, but you can feel him smiling as you kiss him. “Stop it,” he mutters, pushing you away. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

You giggle and shift, moving closer, planting another kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself,” you tease, giving him one more kiss before nuzzling your face against his chest.

Mark groans in frustration, trying to push you away, but you keep crawling closer, your lips pressing against his neck as you whisper, “Come on, don’t be mad at me anymore. You know I’m just teasing.”

He sighs dramatically, clearly not able to resist your affection. “You’re lucky I love you,” he mutters, a little grin tugging at his lips as you continue to kiss him, determined to make him smile.

Mark shakes his head, but you can tell the sulking is finally over. “You better not prank me again,” he warns, his voice still a little gruff, but there’s a playful sparkle in his eyes now.

“Promise,” you say, wrapping your arms around him tightly, knowing full well you’ll probably think of another prank to tease him with soon.

[iamsebastiansstan]

broke you just to own you - NAC x fem!reader

summary - He’s like a man possessed, and he’s come to hunt down what is rightfully his: her first explosive full-body orgasm, the one she promised him, the one that seals his ownership over her sex, the one she’s desperate to give him. wc - 5k - MINORS DNI!

warnings - nasty nasty dirty talk, squirting, pussy slapping, MENTIONS of pee but only because he's so gone in the moment that he says something fucked up to make her cum, cockwarming, loving humiliation hehe

A/N - welcome to my depraved mind, we're only getting started. thank y'all for your continuous support and feedback, means a lot! love you, hope you enjoy <333

taglist - @hoffmansgirl / @blackynsupremacy / @emluvsuxo / @urlitttlevenicebitch / @niteskysx / @lalavenderangel / @nicholaschavezbby / @motherismotheringggg

PART 3, SEE SERIES MASTERLIST

Bleary-eyed and messy-haired she stumbles down the stairs, crabby at having woken up all by herself in bed instead of wrapped up in his arms. She hears voices coming from the kitchen and follows that sound, finding Nicholas and Cooper sitting at the counter, sharing leftover fries and laughing about one thing or another. 

Without saying a word, she steps up to Nicholas and buries her face in his neck, unabashed in her neediness, and whimpers when he immediately goes to hold her against him tightly. 

“Aw, baby,” he coos, “you grumpy?” He chuckles through her nod. “’m here now, (Y/N).”

“Never mess with her post-nap,” Cooper provides helpfully, “or you’ll regret it.” 

“Is that so?” Nicholas asks, the smirk evident in his voice, as he pulls her away to look her in the eye. “What’ll happen if I do?”

She glares at him, puts as much heat as possible behind it, making him have to suppress a laugh. 

“I don’t think you’re brave enough to find out,” Cooper winks before getting up to fix her a plate of leftovers. “You must be starving.” 

She nods. “Yeah. And ‘m cold.” 

Nicholas immediately wraps her up in his arms, pulls her back against his chest, the sleeves of his hoodie warm on her exposed skin. Together they watch Cooper walk around the kitchen. 

“You got any plans till Wednesday?” he whispers in her ear, making her shudder as he kisses the shell of it softly. She shakes her head no. “Good, because Cooper is letting me kidnap you to my place until you have to leave.”

Feeling her heart rate pick up and hoping he doesn’t notice, she turns to look at him.

“Really?”

“Really. I’ve got all the time in the world and you still in my system. I… I can’t let you go, (Y/N), not yet. ‘s that okay with you?”

She nods eagerly and pulls him in to press a hard kiss against his mouth, not deepening it but letting him know just how good she thinks his idea is. Cooper interrupts them by putting the plate in front of them, clearing his throat as he does so.

“You’ll come see me one more time before your flight, though, right?” he asks, and she softens at the sweetness in his eyes.

Pulling away from Nick, she steps into Cooper’s arms, hugging him tight.

“Of course. And as soon as my classes are done, I’ll be back here. Or you can come visit me!”

“We’ll arrange something for sure,” he mumbles against her shoulder before letting her step away to eat her dinner. 

Soon enough she’s packing her suitcase, putting things she’ll be needing at Nick’s place in an extra bag so she can reach for them easier. She’s glad he’s decided to stay downstairs because she needs a moment to herself, needs to reflect on everything going on inside of her when she thinks about these past couple of days. Things seem to be going fast, they’re extremely intense, but she doesn’t think she minds. He makes her feel good, treats her well, fucks her like nobody has fucked her before and she sees no issue in basking in this situation for as long as she can.

It's not like she’s using him, not more than he is using her, at least. All the status symbols he possesses- the money, the fame, his job title- none of them matter to her, all she wants is him. No shame in that, she tells herself, silently checking the room to make sure nothing is forgotten. Even if, she’ll be back here in no time. That thought alone excites her more than she thought it would. 

It doesn’t take long for Nick to get her stuff into his car, for her to hug Cooper goodbye, and then it’s just the two of them on the drive to his place, music playing softly.

“You had a good nap, at least?” he asks, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

She’s taking in her surroundings, the lights of the city bright through the darkness of the evening. 

“Yeah,” she smiles, “I really needed it. You wore me out.” 

He grins at that, shameless, takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. It makes her stomach flutter.

“How’s your body feeling?”

“I’m wired,” she chuckles, “sore, but… y’know.”

A raise of an eyebrow, a tilt of the mouth, his question, “What?” 

Feeling heat crawl up her neck, she decides to be truthful. “I could go again.” 

The sound he makes is less of a chuckle and more of a groan, although a mix of both, and she wishes there was a discreet way to rub her thighs together.

“I’ve got plans for us, baby,” he smiles, doesn’t take his eyes off the road, “and most of them include fucking you over and over again. Are you okay with that?” 

She nods, throat dry, knowing he isn’t looking at her, knowing he can see her reaction anyway. 

“Yeah? You okay with me sending you home with a swollen, come-filled pussy?” 

“Fucking hell, Nicholas,” she exhales, turning away from him to drive a shaky hand over her face, already greedy for it. 

Through a smile he says, “Answer me, (Y/N).”

Swallowing feels like nails are scraping down her throat, but she does anyway, speaks, “Y-yeah, I’m absolutely okay with it. Need it.”

He hums.

“That you do, little girl,” he says, more to himself than to her, as he pulls into his driveway. "That you do." 

When he’s parked his car, he immediately grabs her by the neck, pulls her into a searing kiss that leaves her whimpering in his mouth, pressing closer to get at him better, get the full taste of him, but too soon for her liking he’s pulling away, opening his door and getting out. She’s breathing hard, trying to collect herself, when he opens her door and helps her step out, ever the gentleman. 

He grabs her stuff from the trunk and leads the way inside, her eyes widening at how beautiful his place is- warm colors and tasteful decorations, lots of windows to let the California sun in during the day. She adores it already. The house tour he gives her is quick, but she appreciates that he takes the time to do so anyways. Nicholas sets her suitcase down in the bedroom before gathering her in his arms.

“Wanna shower together?” he asks, kisses her after she gives him a nod. 

The air around them is crackling with tension, although she feels comfortable in it, knowing it’ll pay off to be patient and go at the pace he’s set. She hasn’t known him long, but if there’s one thing she knows, it’s that there’s a reason for and a certain kind of expertise in everything he is doing, and he always exceeds her expectations. 

Her stomach is in knots from all the excitement. 

The way he undresses her is unhurried, isn’t even sexual, closed lips pressed against hers and a smile on his face. He makes sure the water is warm, makes sure her hair is up and out of the way, before he pulls her in after him, lets the water soak them both while they giggle into each other’s mouths. 

Choosing from his collection of expensive shower gels isn’t easy, but she picks a vanilla scented one, groaning as his strong hands massage it into the tense lines of her back.

“You’re good at that,” she whispers, knows he’ll hear her over the noise of the shower stream.

He steps away to let the water rinse the foam off before pressing a kiss to her shoulder, turning her around to continue washing her front, her doing the same with his gorgeously toned torso. When it comes to washing their private areas, they each do it to themselves, grinning at each other at the strangely mundane way they’re behaving.

“And here I was, hoping to get my hand near your ass,” he pretend-sulks, laughing at the smack she delivers to his chest.

“Not like this, Mister!” 

Her heart feels full when he towels her off, hands her his fancy body lotion with a raised brow, lotions her back after she does the same for him. She likes that they smell the same now, with a hint of themselves. Soon they’ll smell like themselves, with a hint of the other. 

Back in his bedroom, he walks to his closet and pulls out a pair of briefs, pulls them up his muscular legs, fitting them snugly around his crotch. He slides the doors of his wardrobe closed, revealing huge mirrors on the wood, facing the bed. 

Unsure, she moves to her suitcase to get her own underwear when he stops her in her tracks, “No, you stay naked. Get rid of the towel.” 

Biting her lip, she does as he asks and pulls the material away from her body, hangs it on the doorknob. Standing there in front of him, stark naked as his eyes move up and down her frame, makes her toes curl in anticipation. If she were to reach out and touch her pussy right now, her fingers would come away wet. 

“Fuckin’ stunning,” Nicholas breathes, leaning in to kiss her deeply, already letting his tongue come out to play with hers. She moans as he kisses over her jaw and down to her neck, licking a stripe up her skin until he reaches her ear, whispers, “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” she confirms immediately, nodding shakily. “Always.” 

His smile is small yet dirty, enjoying her admission immensely. 

Hand in hand they walk to the bed, Nicholas letting himself fall onto the soft mattress and pulling her down until she’s seated between his thighs, her back to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of every calm breath. 

Her eyes shut on their own accord when he starts kissing her neck from behind, nibbling at the skin softly, just how she likes. Smaller hands grip the forearms he’s got around her waist, making him tighten them, making her feel his body right there behind hers. 

“Hey, open your eyes,” he whispers, nips at her earlobe, “look at us.” 

Confused, she does as he tells her to before the realization hits her: she sees them, right in front of her, his thick thighs framing her hips, her legs open and pussy on display, their arms clutching each other, their faces red. 

Embarrassment grips her, then, the lewd image of herself entirely new to her, but when she goes to closer her legs on instinct, his hands are there to keep them apart.

“No, don’t do that. I want you to look at yourself. What do you see?” 

His voice is warm and encouraging yet holds an edge of authority, causing her stomach to clench. She wants to fight his command almost as much as she wants to fight her shame, and in the end, she wins the fight against the latter. She widens her legs again, looks at herself, bites her lip shily. 

“I see… us. How good we look, how well we fit together.”

“Mhm. What else?”

An inhale, an exhale, she pushes on. 

“I see my pussy… how wet you make me. I’ve been clenching since we got out of the shower,” she chuckles, a tinge of ridicule in her tone, “I’m so fucking desperate for you, and I’ve already had you today.” 

He hums, letting two of his long, capable fingers drive through her slick folds, making her exhale harshly. 

“You’re dripping, baby,” he notes, almost absent-mindedly. “But I want you wetter. I need you to be completely relaxed for what I’m gonna do to you tonight, okay?” 

“W-what’s that?” 

Unexpectedly he pushes those two fingers deep into her, curls them, punches a spot inside of her that has her entire body freeze up, staring at him through the mirror with wide eyes. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he soothes, pets at her until she relaxes enough to let him pull out, hand resuming the stroking from before. “I wanna make you come on my hand, (Y/N). You see what you did just now, how you clamped your pussy shut around me? Can’t have that.” 

He doesn’t scold her, she knows, he’s stating the truth, but still, she feels vulnerable, feels admonished, eyes welling up with tears.

“’m sorry, Nick, I’m just not used to it, I don’t think I can-“

“Hey, hey, none of that, baby,” he shushes her, takes his hands off her privates and wraps his arms around her tightly, clean hand finding her face and stroking along the soft skin of her cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, sweetheart, okay? You just tell me if you want this, and I’ll make it happen. I can get your body to do anything I want it to; you just need to let me guide you through it.” 

She chuckles softly, presses a kiss to his lips. “Awfully confident, are we?”

Nicholas’ expression is serious as he says, “Look, (Y/N), I know it’s bad etiquette to talk about this, but I mean it. I have so much fucking experience with this, and I want to show you what your body can do, what you get to do for me if you just give in, okay? You trust me, yeah?”

Enchanted, she stares into his deep brown eyes, the kindness they exude, nodding dumbly.

“Good girl,” he kisses her, then, a lot of tongue and some sharp teeth, before guiding her to lean back against him, to open her legs and resume the position they were in mere minutes ago. 

“Fuck,” she exhales as she watches his right hand move over her most intimate parts, as his left hand holds hers against her stomach, watches how he’s just stroking between her outer and inner lips before moving along her slit, alternating like that. 

“She’s so gorgeous,” he says, right next to her ear, “and so sweet. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, I swear. The way she cries for me, fuck… I wanna make her drench me.” 

His words make her want to double over with want, make her want to claw at her skin, create new ways for him to enter her system, stay there and corrupt her from the inside out. 

“It’ll make a mess, though,” she pipes up, her eyes trained on where he’s playing between her hips, same as his, “your poor bed.”

He chuckles, kisses her shoulder. “This may feel like a fuzzy blanket, but it’s actually a waterproof cover.” A laugh escapes him at her accusingly surprised face. “Told you I’ve got plans, baby. Plans require, well, planning.” 

“Unbelievable,” she groans, no heat behind it. 

“What can I say, I love catching you off guard,” he smiles before focusing back on touching her, keeping the sensation light. “What else do you see, c’mon, tell me.” 

She huffs, swirling her hips and getting more comfortable. 

“You’re such a talker,” she snaps weakly, yelps when he pinches the inside of her thigh.

“Gets you wet as fuck, though, doesn’t it?” She nods reluctantly. “Exactly, and that’s what I need you to be for this to work. C’mon, now, say it.” 

Nicholas puts his fingers in a v-shape, pulls her pussy up so the skin of her hood is out of the way, so her clit is exposed for him to see. Her stomach turns, the nervousness at being studied so intently getting to her. 

“Ugh, m-my clit is so… swollen. She wants to be touched, w-wants to come.” 

He chuckles, grazes the very tip of a finger on his other hand against her nub, holds her tightly through the shudder that passes through her.

“So hard f’me,” he whispers, tortures her with that one digit. “But we won’t use her to make you come tonight, will we, (Y/N)?”

“N-no,” she stammers, throws her head back for a second before looking back up.

“What will we use, tell me.”

“M-my spot,” she breathes, delirious with want, feeling her cunt clench around nothing as it pushes her wetness out. “Gonna come from my- my spot.” 

“That’s right,” he husks into her ear, the praise making her skin erupt in a blush as he moves the v of his fingers down to spread her apart, moves a finger to her opening to tease it slightly. Looking straight at the slight gape of herself where he’s holding her open makes her mewl, resisting a thrash against his body. “This is where I’ll fuck into tonight, baby. This is what you’ll give me… you see how you’re gushing already?” 

She nods before looking away, burying her face in the side of his neck, unable to look anymore. Shame curls along her spine, shame at being inspected like this, touched like this, shame at loving it so much she could start drooling. And the way he talks about her, sexual in an almost clinical way, God, how does he know just how to get under her skin? She never dared to admit how that objectification, that humiliation, made the spring inside of her core coil just on the right side of too tight. 

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” he commands but she ignores him, whines into the sweat-slick skin of his neck while shaking her head no, ignores him until he pulls his hand back and delivers a soul-ripping smack to the oversensitive skin of her pussy, his palm connecting with her center and making a sharp slapping sound. 

“Fuck!” she screams, throws herself against his chest as her toes curl, the pent-up tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. The ringing in her ears makes her feel like she’s losing her mind. 

Nicholas holds her through it, of course, manhandles her so she opens up for him again, so she settles down and breathes in sync with him, so she calms down and surrenders to the game he’s playing with her body. 

“When I tell you to look, you look,” he pants into her ear, tightens his arms around her until she feels like she can breathe again, “and when you don’t, I hurt you like you need to be hurt to finally fucking let me do what you’re craving me to do, okay? Do you fucking understand me, (Y/N)?” 

She nods through a sob as he shakes her condescendingly, pushes herself back against him to feel the hard line of his body right behind her, needing to be as close to him as possible. 

“Good girl, you’re my good little girl,” he whispers to her, reverence evident in his tone as he strokes her hair back from her sweaty face, as he kisses the tears away from her cheeks, kisses her drooling mouth softly. “Now describe your sloppy cunt to me, c’mon.” 

She looks, opens her mouth to say something, groans as more tears leave her eyes. 

“Fuck… Fuck, I can’t! I can’t, I’m so embarrassed, I-“

“Shhh, I know you are, baby, but this shit gets you hot, doesn’t it? Makes you so fucking horny for it, huh?” 

She nods, unable to do much else, as he coaxes the filth right out of her. 

“Baby, I need you to leave the shame at the door when you’re with me. I want you completely unhinged for me, I need you to give me that, do you understand me? I wanna, fuck, I wanna fuck you up, baby, wanna- need’a do bad, bad fuckin’ things to you.” 

She’s been so engrossed with how she’s feeling that she never stopped to think about just how effected he is by this whole ordeal, but now it’s glaringly obvious in the way his words seem to rip right out of his chest, the way he stutters over them like even he can’t believe that this is what he wants, the way his breathing is labored and his body is rigid and how he’s keeping her back arched just enough so she wouldn’t be able to rub herself against his cock, his cock that is probably hot-red and leaking with need. 

Taking strength from his vulnerability, she lets go, then, lets her mouth run wild with the fantasy she’s often had but never dared to voice out loud, scared of being the dirty girl he wants her to be for him. But this ends now. She’s not scared anymore now, not with him. 

“She’s fucking pulsing for you, Nicholas, she needs you,” she whines, a breath punching out of her when he sinks two impossibly thick fingers into her, hooks them slightly for a pinch of the pressure but mainly gives her a delicious stretch. “I wanna feel you in my fuckin’- my fuckin’ stomach, my lungs, my- I don’t know, everywhere at the same time, fill me and claim me and rub your cock all over me so I smell like your come, so I’m- fuck, Nicholas, fuck!” 

Crying comes easy to her, whole body feeling like a raw nerve as he shushes her, praises her, my dirty fucking girl, that’s it, give in, let me have you like this, holy shit (Y/N), yes baby, all the while his fingers are wreaking havoc on her insides. 

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me for a second, can you do that?” he asks, slowing his ministrations down until he’s just lazily fingering her, making her feel him but not overwhelming her with the sensation. 

She nods dumbly, locks eyes with him through the mirror, doesn’t dare look away.

“’m listenin’,” she mumbles, purses her lips to kiss at his forearm that’s holding her down.

“I’m gonna have to fuck you really hard for you to come for me like this, okay? You’ll scream, and you’ll cry, and you’ll beg me to stop, but I won’t. We need a word for when you really need me to stop, though, okay? For emergencies.” 

“Like- like a safe word?” she asks, eyes glazing over at the prospect of him ignoring her pathetic pleas until she exercises her full power and makes him stop.

The smile he gives her is full of pride, knowing. “Exactly, a safe word.”

Thinking is hard, her thoughts flowing slow like molasses, but she mumbles out, “How about red? Classic traffic light system.”

Nicholas kisses her then, a smile on his lips, presses close and smooches every inch of her face he can reach.

“My perfect girl, yes, we’ll do that. Red for when you need me to stop, and if that’s not the word you use, I won’t, okay?” 

She nods, pussy clenching at what that means, how intense it’s going to be. If she had the energy to freak out, she probably would, would let her pulse spike and her chest constrict with anxiety, but her entire being is currently reduced to being Nicholas’ little plaything, to keeping herself pliant for him to work into. 

His fingers find their way deep inside her again, find that spongy spot that has never been the cause of pleasure for her until he came and turned her world upside down, her body inside out. 

Holding back her moans is not even an option as she watches him work her expertly, gaze switching between the point of view from above- where his palm is visible and slapping against her sensitive flesh, where his arm is flexing where it’s mustering up the strength to really abuse the pink insides of her pussy- and the view in the mirror, the front- where the veiny back of his hand is covering her most intimate part, the sight of her thighs shaking along the insides of his legs as he drives into her, obscene noises filling the room along with their heavy breaths. 

A squelching noise reaches her ears, then, disgusting in its intensity but gut-wrenchingly hot in its obscenity, and she shuts her eyes tightly when he points it out, chuckles in her ear dirtily.

“You hear that, baby?” he grins, licks into her ear, “Your little spot filling up for me? God, you’re so fucking tight, getting so full… You’ll explode soon, huh? Just a liiittle bit more, c’mon.” 

It’s a strange sensation, one that starts in her stomach and makes its way down, seemingly wrapping around her ovaries and forcing her to cramp her insides shut, fight against the onslaught of pleasure.

“Let it happen, (Y/N), don’t try to push me out.”

“C-can’t,” she whines, writhes and thrashes against his chest, kicks her leg out before he quickly reels her in, puts his stronger legs over hers and holds her steady, locked down against his hard muscle. “I’ll- Nick, I’m gonna pee, I don- I don’t wanna pee, I- I can’t-“ 

“You’re not going to, baby, you-“

“Please, please no more, Nick- hng- please, I’m gonna- no, baby, no-“

The movement of his hand increases and he’s really working his whole arm now, pushing at that spot inside of her, assaulting it with such precision and vigor that it makes her sick with desperation, stomach turning when she notices that she can’t keep it in, no matter how hard she tries. He’s like a man possessed, and he’s come to hunt down what is rightfully his: her first explosive full-body orgasm, the one she promised him, the one that seals his ownership over her sex, the one she’s desperate to give him.

Before she knows it, it’s escaping her: the wet flow of her juices, triggered only by his coaxing, only by the motions of his capable fingers inside of her, soaking his palm slowly but surely.

“Fucking let go for me, baby,” he grits through clenched teeth, brows furrowed as his laser-focused eyes look at her through the mirror, “you won’t pee, that’s just the wetness that’s been building up inside you, my sweet, because this little cunt hasn’t been treated right, has it, hasn’t been fucked like she deserves to be fucked, hasn’t been fuckin’ emptied out like she needs, huh? Ain’t that right, baby? It isn’t pee, don’t be shy, don’t worry.” 

Just as she’s about to beg him to unhand her, her insecurity-riddled delirium putting that one word at the very tip of her tongue, the one word that will make him listen, he crashes her system with his hushed words, “And even if it was, you think I’d give a fuck? You think I wouldn’t lap up everything your body gives me, everything your pleasure-drunk cunt gives up for me? I wanna fucking break you, even if it means fucking the piss out of you,” he hisses, words barely audible over the way she screams as she lets go, her control snapping as her pussy sprays from the depth of her body and covers his hand, covers the bed, makes her see stars from how hard she’s clamping up, every single muscle in her body coiled tight. 

It feels like it goes on forever.

It travels through her pussy, shakes her core all the way through her stomach up to her empty lungs, scratches at her throat and makes her eyes roll back. Even when he pulls out, lets go of her completely- only his chest against her back- she feels him still, feels that immense pressure inside of her not letting up. 

Her hands fly up to cover her face as she starts to cry, heavy sobs wracking her entire body, and it only barely registers when he moves from behind her, lays her down so he can be right next to her, no point of their bodies touching except the hand he’s got in her hair. Nicholas isn’t even shushing her, not this time, instead just letting her cry it out as he provides a grounding presence, a slight pull of her hair so she can have something to focus on. 

Time passes, but she doesn’t rush herself, couldn’t even if she tried. She lets her body calm down by itself, lets the sobs subside until they’re mere sniffles, until the breathless gasps for air turn into small hiccups. Only then does he scooch closer to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into his sweat-soaked chest and rocking her back and forth, legs tangled together, his face in her hair. 

“You’re incredible,” he chokes out, and when she looks up, his eyes are full of unshed tears, pride oozing out of every pore of his being. “God, (Y/N)… Fuck.”

He pulls her in again and she lets herself be held, gives him the time to come down himself, the control he had over her body and how tight he had to hold onto it surely exhausting for his system.  

“I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud. What you just gave me, that was… fuck, baby. My baby.”

“Yours,” she gasps, launches her entire body into his in hopes of being able to crawl under his skin, to wrap herself around his bones so she’d be a part of him forever, even when all that’s left of him is that ivory color and a sliver of her soul. 

Their tongues meet messily, desperately, consuming each other with shallow breath, but they don’t take it further. He’s exhausted everything she had to give him for tonight, and he knows it, doesn’t push her past any more limits. She’s grateful for that unspoken decision, although the need to feel him inside of her, satisfy him physically after enriching him emotionally, keeps gnawing at her.

“Baby, baby,” she whispers, grabs his face and digs her nails into his soft cheeks, licks at his bottom lip, “sleep inside of me.”

The widening of his eyes would be comical if it weren’t a moment so sensual.

“You want me to?”

“I can’t- I need it, I can’t have you just outside. You belong inside.”

Her chin starts to tremble at her disorganized thoughts, the inability to get her tongue to form the words properly, but Nicholas shushes her, understands exactly what she means, and he pulls down his underwear to free his cock, hikes her leg up his hip and glides inside of her with one hard thrust.

It feels as if she’s being lit on fire from the inside, but she bears it, takes it for him and for herself, and cuddles closer into his arms.

“I might want to fuck you during the night, baby.”

She nods. “You can. Not now, but later, I’ll wan’ it again. I need your come, Nicholas.”

“Fuck, you’re so sweet, my sweetest girl,” he whispers, kisses her one more time before settling down, nestled deep within her folds. 

Sleep overtakes her then, pulls her under, and all she wants to dream about is this moment right here, lasting forever. 

[marlynnofmany]

Aiming the Machismo

I’m on the tall end of our ship’s lineup. Not the biggest by any means, but with half the crew short enough to elbow in the head accidentally, and the others only that tall when they stand on tentacle-tip, it’s easy to think of myself as one of the big ones.

Sometimes we make deliveries to people who enforce that impression. Today was not one of those times.

“Move aside,” said the deepest voice, echoing from the opaque helmet of a Smasher in an armored suit. “Official business goes first.” His companion was just as hulking, with shoulders that looked like they wrestled buffalo for fun and hands that could crush a coconut.

I was glad he wasn’t talking to me.

“Official, huh?” demanded an Armorlite, sticking his dinosaurian face in close to bare teeth at the helmet. His voice sounded normal by comparison. “We’re official too, and we were here first. Get in line.” He was backed up by a half dozen similarly beefy individuals — a surprising collection, really: big Frillians and a couple extremely jacked humans. They made a wall of sneers worthy of any gym bro turf war.

The Smashers weren’t impressed. But at least they weren’t taking out any weapons. “Rule violators who are wanted in several systems have been spotted nearby. We’re here to capture them for the greater good. Move aside.”

The Armorlite laughed in his face, saying that they were bounty hunters too, and they weren’t about to let anyone get ship fuel before they did. The air was full of jeers and testosterone, or the alien equivalent. Some of the macho individuals were female. It made no difference.

It was unfortunate, though, since this mess was between us and the front counter, where a single put-upon Heatseeker stood behind a sign about repairs. I saw why none of the bounty hunters had gotten their fuel yet; apparently the dispensing nozzle for midsize ships was broken.

Good news. That’s what we were here to deliver, among other things.

I looked past the hoversled full of heavy machinery at the two most muscle-bound members of our crew, whose body language was currently more timid than usual. I guess they knew their place in the macho pecking order. Blip was glancing from one face to another as if trying to predict a winner, while Blop stood at attention and stared into the middle distance. All of their many frills were slicked back as if trying not to draw attention.

Well, I was a slender breakable twig compared to everybody except the little Heatseeker, and none of that was my problem. “Guys,” I said. “Let’s yell ‘delivery’ on three.”

They both looked at me instead of the nonsense. Blip nodded, standing taller and relaxing her frills into a more normal position. Blop took a deep breath that it sounded like he needed.

“One, two, three. DELIVERY!”

The argument stopped, and multiple dangerous faces turned in our direction.

I tugged the hoversled forward and spoke into the brief silence. “Repairs, so everybody can get their fuel faster!”

What do you know, the sea of biceps and teeth parted to let us through. With Blip and Blop pushing from behind even though the sled didn’t need it, I led the way past everybody taller than me to where the green-scaled Heatseeker waited.

“Thank you,” he said in relief. “That nozzle broke right after our regular supply ship left. Do you have time to stop by our sister colony on the fourth planet? We ordered extra of one of those other parts, and it sounds like they need it.”

“I think we can manage that,” I said with a glance at Blip and Blop. “Let me just check with the captain. Are the same rates okay?” Behind me, the arguing was getting loud again.

The Heatseeker agreed readily over the noise, and called somebody else up to the front to confirm everything. Instead of shouting into my phone or trying to get past all the competing pectorals twice more, I sent texts and invoices to whoever was in the cockpit.

Surprisingly enough, the boisterous voices moved their debate outside while we worked. By the time we got the delivery unloaded except for the part going to the sister colony, the room was quiet. I was glad for that, though worried about what we’d find when we left.

I asked the Heatseeker at the counter, “Have those bounty hunters been here before?”

He shook his scaly head. “No. I hope they finish their business soon and move on.”

I agreed. We said our goodbyes, then the twins and I maneuvered the nearly-empty hoversled back to the door. The only thing left on it was a bundle of cables for some sort of electronics. Thoroughly packaged to keep out dust, and tied down in case of unexpected jostles to the sled. I hoped there wouldn’t be any of those on the way to the ship. With a glance at Blip and Blop, I moved forward to open the door.

Cheers, grunts, and thuds greeted me. After one cautious step out onto the rural spaceport, I saw how the meatheads had decided to resolve their differences. It wasn’t by fighting. It also wasn’t a dance-off, which I’d seen once before. No, they were taking turns picking up empty fuel tanks and seeing how far they could throw them. It was very far.

“Let’s take the long way around,” I suggested.

“No kidding,” Blip agreed, pushing the sled faster. “Before they decide to throw us.”

I stepped quickly. “That’s an option to them?”

“Probably.”

Blop said, “I hope the sister colony is quieter.”

“Me too,” I agreed as we hurried to our ship with roars of triumph filling the air.

Surprisingly enough, the three of us got to see that sister colony ourselves shortly after. Usually our crew trades off in who hands over the deliveries, so it should have been Paint and Mur doing this second dropoff, but this was an unplanned one and they were busy helping deep clean the medical bay. So I went again with the Blip and Blop, and we got to appreciate a similar reception area with no slabs of beef causing trouble.

“This is a lovely place,” I told the Heatseeker with deep blue scales at the desk. Windows lined every wall here, giving us a view of rolling hills where cloud shadows drifted over bushy trees and equally bushy sheeplike things. The scent of spicy flowers wafted through.

“It is,” she replied, looking tired. “The aromatic moss on the trees is particularly beautiful.”

The other Heatseeker checking over the cables said, “Too bad the locals weren't making up their monster stories. If those were actually fake, I’d be a lot happier.”

“What monster stories?” I asked. Blip and Blop got more alert behind me.

At the same time, the first Heatseeker asked, “They’re not? Are we sure?”

The guy with lighter blue scales straightened up. “We’re sure. Another set of their livestock got killed last night, and more personal accounts of missing people have turned up now that we’re actually looking into it.” He gave me a glance. “We don’t know what kind of monster we’re talking about, but I have theories.”

I looked out the windows again. The scenery didn’t seem quite as welcoming now. “Is there a local predator eating people?”

The receptionist hurried to clarify, “Nothing gets eaten. The people always turn up again, and the animals are damaged but not taken away.”

Blip asked, “Have you put up security cameras?”

“Yes, that’s what this cable is for. We’re putting up more, and making sure they’re connected to a proper power supply.”

“But did the first ones see anything?” Blip insisted.

“Not the culprits,” said the darker Heatseeker. “We need to aim higher, I think. And adjust for light fluctuations. Whoever is doing this brings spotlights to upset the cameras. Or else it’s some sort of natural bioluminescence on a grand scale.”

The pale guy shook his head. “It’s definitely somebody in a ship. Creatures on foot wouldn’t be able to make those patterns in the plants, at least not that quickly.”

I whipped my head around. “Crop circles?”

“They are circular, yes.”

“So people are being taken,” I repeated. “Abducted, then returned, while livestock is getting mutilated and there are circles in their crops?”

“That’s about the size of it.” The guy gave me a sharp look. “You’ve seen this before?”

“Not personally,” I said with a frown. “But my planet sure has.”

“Oh!” said Blop. “It’s those little gray guys, right? I’ve heard about them. No morals at all.”

“Yes, them.” I felt my frown turning into a proper scowl. “They harassed my planet for generations, and never answered for it. They only left when we made contact with the broader galaxy. The frill-tearing mud eggs.” I made sure to insult them in both Frillian and Heatseeker terminology, to make sure we were all on the same page.

The darker Heatseeker looked appropriately scandalized. “That would fit with the way only the locals have seen them here. They must be avoiding us.”

“But maybe they’re about to leave soon, right?” asked the paler one. “Since they only like uncontacted prey who can’t report them?”

“Probably,” I said. I turned back to tap a finger on the payment tablet. “Let’s finish up quickly. I know just who to tell about this, and these little gray bastards are exactly the kind of rule-breaker they’ll outdo each other trying to catch.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[mandy-asimp]

Cards and Clay

Lilia Calderu x Potter! Reader

Summary: you move into town and start a new pottery place, you bring in much business and are pleased with your tiny living. Or so you think that's what's happening.

Warnings: language, smut (leaving this simple so you get the surprise), teasing, pet names, lemme know if I missed anything?

A/n ~ bye chat this is lengthy. I mean it. I was being honest when I said I love plot procrastination to the smut. But shiii I got it done🙂‍↕️

You just finished your first full week of your own pottery shop. It was honestly becoming a dream come true. You rented one of the newer apartments about ten minutes down the road, which was when you could tell the whole area was in need of renovations. Yet, with enough media promotion and the help of your friends, you managed to put a name on the map.

The weekend was ahead, and it would be busy for the Saturday lessons you offered. They would begin around eleven, giving you plenty of time to sleep in and even set up.

You were basically done cleaning up, the last thing was to rotate everything in the kiln. Which would've been completed, until the bell at the front door rang. "Oh! Sorry, we're closed!" You had called from the back, wiping the pottery off your hands onto the apron. By the door stood a curious-looking lady. Her hair pinned up and the curls fell down freely, some framing her face. Her eyes. Those were the next thing you had taken in. They were big, brown, and full of adventures you were for sure of it. They dropped against your body and you found yourself standing straighter and at attention.

"Can I help you?" You gave her your sweetest customer service voice possible. Hands coming to clasp in front of you and your head tilted. A few stray hairs falling with.

"I wanted to come see what was dragging in the business. Just not during it being an open business." She flashed you a softer smile, one that you could let your guard down to just a bit.

So you did, your shoulders had visibly relaxed and your chest didn't feel as tight. "Oh! Well it's just me and a dream here." You chuckled, a hand at the back of your neck. "I live in the apartment right down the street as well so I'm practically always here."

"I'm in the tarot shop across the street, so I know what you mean. This is cute, a nice addition I'd say." She hummed out, eyes roaming the space once more with a finger wagging in the air. You lightly laughed and held out your hand, giving her your name with a welcoming smile. "Lilia Calderu, how did someone like you get here anyways?"

"Like I said, me and a dream here. I went to college for a business degree, learned how to run a company, minored with an art degree. Work in between all that. All because I had a dream and gave my trust to the universe and here I am. My dream come true." You rambled a bit about yourself, knowing you could go deeper into all of it. But it was the simple version of your life.

Lilia enjoyed the way you spoke so passionately about something. She had forgotten how pure some people could still be within this grueling world. "It's nice to know some people still dream."

"Saying you don't dream?" You raised a challenging brow and crossed your arms. "You don't have something that keeps you going everyday even though the world sucks?"

"You sound so generic," she scoffed with a sly smirk. "I'm long past the dreaming age anyways. I've gotten content with my solo life. But you keep dreaming. I should get going though, it was nice meeting you."

You nodded slightly and watched her go. Standing like a mannequin until she opened her shops door. Once she was inside, you sighed happily and got back to work.

As for Lilia, her night concluded with her fiddling with cards as you seemed to run around in her mind. She felt silly if she used the cards in such a childish manner. Even when she groaned and placed the deck back down to the table. What was it about you?

~

A few weeks had rolled by and you had began a steady pace with work. Along with building deeper relationships with your students. A particular group you enjoyed was with Agatha, Alice, and Billy. They always knew something about someone.

You once asked them about Lilia, silently curious about the woman across the way. "She's been here ever since I could remember." Agatha started the talk. "She lives alone over there. In the back of her shop."

"She's gay. I can tell you that as well. There's no way she isn't." Billy pitched in. The fact earned him a silence and stares. "I went over there once for a reading. She's one weird, but sweet lady really."

You eyed Alice, she sat silently while working with her clay. "You got anything to add Alice? Anything I should be aware of?" You brushed your hair off your nose, getting a little bit of clay on your cheek.

"She's a quiet lady. I've never had trouble with her." Her eyes were focused to the spinning wheel, like she physically couldn't meet your gaze.

"Alice slept with her." Agatha snorted. Inflicting a heavy blush to the other as her head shot up and she began to deny the accusation.

You and Billy were left to witness the debate while trying not to holler with laughter. "It's ok anyways! Everyone's got their own thing. Whether you did or didn't, she seems nice. Except her shop is always dead. She gets maybe one or two customers if she's lucky?"

"Watching your new crush?" Agatha finally turned to tease you. Wiggling her brows and making kissy faces at you.

Your head shook and a smile was there, "hardly could say I have a crush. She an old lady who lives by herself, so what if my mind can't help to wonder if she's lonely. Anyone would. I just hope nothing bad happens." You finalized, pouring the rest of your focus into the yarn bowl you were attempting.

It wasn't until closing again that Lilia became your minds only focus. You were already set on grabbing take-out before heading home, and suddenly found yourself at her shops door knocking against the glass.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you waited. Maybe she was asleep, or busy...or maybe even out..wherever she was you thought up a million conclusions until the door opened. Lilia stared up to you with furrowed brows.

Your name fell from her lips in a whisper, "What are you doing here?" She searched briefly over your person to find an answer. Her posture had seemed like she had been caught of something.

"I couldn't help but wonder, if you'd care to join me for dinner? It's usually what I grab on my way home on Fridays and I figured since you hadn't left yours for a while maybe it'd be nice for a change?" You were wincing at your own words. It was a brave invite alone, and you didn't anticipate how effective her being this close to you would be.

Lilia stood in much looser clothing. Patchy pants that were a variety of dulled colors, it fit with the silky cover up that draped her shoulders. Her shirt was the darkest piece, the neck line dropping enough to expose her chest. And her hair was up in a messy ponytail again.

"How sweet of you, but I've already had my dinner. Maybe next time though doll, I'm sure you're amazing company." She bid you a goodbye and the door was closed again.

But for the next three weeks, she continued to decline your offer. Simply, the fourth week you left her with little choice. You knocked against her door and patiently waited like normal. Only this time when the door opened, you didn't wait for pleasantries.

"This is the fourth week. I would invite you, but I know you'll say no. And I know you haven't actually eaten because your house doesn't smell like cooking, not even thirty minutes before. One dinner and if I'm really that bad, I will never bother you again." You held the door from closing with your foot against the frame. "We can have it here and everything."

Lilia eyed you for a moment. You really were persistent with getting to know her. So..she sighed and opened the door further. Slightly grinning as you squealed before rushing in. The smell of good take-out wafting into the air.

Your body buzzed with excitement as you began to set everything on the table as she grabbed plates and glasses for each of you. Even as you finally sat across from her, you couldn't help the beaming smile that touched your eyes.

"You really wanted to have dinner with me?" She chuckled, being the first to start plating food. You eyed her wised hands before following suit.

Your head nodded, "a woman like you is alluring. I bet you have stories to be told and nobody knows them. I wanna know all of them." You missed her hesitation as she really eyed you now. Too busy putting noodles onto your plate.

"Well I do have a few. But what are they to you? Don't you know other people who can give you better stories?" She raised, knowing you had built connections with many people through your art. How deep you could take someone with a piece of clay and a conversation.

Your head bobbed in agreement, "I mean yeah I guess, but at the same time I've failed at many connections. Pottery is selective just like tarot is. I've heard the art stories and so on, but I haven't heard yours yet. So, what crazy adventures has Lilia Calderu been on?"

That night she had told you a variety of stories. The funny ones, the ones that put you on the edge of your seat and make you wonder how she managed, ones that were sad, all of them. As many as she could because finally, someone wanted to pay attention to her and hear everything she's accomplished.

The lingering fear of being forgotten soon seemed to cower into a corner with you around. She liked it. She liked this feeling of freeness. She liked not being alone suddenly. Even as her big doey eyes watched your cheeks burn pink from laughing so hard, she couldn't get enough of it.

"My my, Lilia!" You huffed down your giggles. "I knew I wanted to know your stories for a reason! You are a woman of many lives." You leaned against your hand as you stared at her. "I wish I could've lived that all with you, sounds so much better than an average k-12 childhood."

"You're telling me, the one with the pottery shop, was average? You made your dreams come true, didn't you?" It was her turn to shine the spotlight.

"Nothing special about me. Ran around as a kid. Hid in the closet once I figured out what it was. Came out, got told it was just a phase. And then I kept quiet mostly till I got to college. Explored, studied, graduated, job, dream job. That's basically it." You sighed, taking a sip of water.

"Mm, I never labeled myself. That's the thing with the younger generations, so desperate for a label." She rolled her eyes, then suddenly they were on you with a small challenge behind them.

"Sometimes a label makes them feel validated. Gives worth to something. Haven't you ever wanted a title?" You quirked a brow to her, her move.

"It's sad you need a title to have worth," she shot.

"Says Madame Calderu?" You dodged and returned fire, only not missing.

Lilia sighed and put her hands up in surrender. Chuckling out a "you got me" before crossing her arms again. "This was nice, thank you."

"Well it only took four weeks of perusing, but I think it was well worth it....why exactly did it take four week?" Your tone curved the outcome of the night unbeknownst to you.

"I had eaten those three other weeks. You caught me when I was behind on schedule." She attempted to turn down the topic nicely. She really had no excuse except she thought you were taking pity on her. Now she could see that that wasn't true.

"Ok and I own the Mona Lisa." You mocked, earning a kick under the table. It made your eyebrows furrow quickly. "What? Can I not call out bullshit when I hear it? If you're gonna lie at least lie to me better." Another kick. "Alright! Geez lady, gonna leave me all bruised."

"Good, maybe it'll teach you some manners." She cocked her head briefly. You laughed, throwing your head back with a wide smile.

Continuing as you started cleaning up the table. "I'll have you know my mother raised a well mannered woman! I graduated the nicest in class, so I speak for myself."

Lilia stood and grabbed at the plates, her hip bumping yours. "Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night."

You shook your head while putting the empty containers into the plastic bag. "I tell myself a lot of positive things before bed. Tonight it'll be complimenting myself for finally getting dinner with you." You turned to her with a cocky gleam.

The woman just squinted her eyes and sighed out. "You're an interesting one, ya know that? That average Joe crap doesn't suit you at all."

This time you let out a snort, a hand covering your mouth and nose instantly. "You're making me blush, Lilia! But truly, if I can figure out what interesting thing you see, I'll cut the Joe out."

"Anything named Joe should be cut out. Especially the men named Joe." She rambled only slightly. You hummed in agreement anyways, trying to stay serious with her. "I knew a Joe once, he was nothing good. Just caused me problems on problems. Had to bail him out twice before deciding enough was enough."

You smirked, "does that mean I can call you next time I'm in trouble?"

"As if you would get in trouble. You're a good girl there's no doubt about it. Matter of fact, I know why you really came." She lead you towards the small lounge area. Sitting in the chair facing the window and melting into the cushions. Missing the subtle pink on your face.

You sat across in the other chair, your back to the shinning moon. Although you got to see how the moon reflected against her. Highlighting the silver in her curls. "And what did I really come here for?"

"You've learned of something and you want to help me. But I can reassure you I'm fine. I will keep moving and settle somewhere else." She eyed you curiously, watching as your mouth opened and closed. You were caught. "I appreciate the thought though. It's nice to know someone's not forgotten me."

Your brows furrowed and you frowned. "Lilia you do know living is impossible in this day and age. I'm 35 and just moved out my parent's basement. Where are you really going to go? Not saying I doubt you or anything," you already knew where you were taking this entire conversation.

"I've managed my life this much. I can manage a few more years." She shrugged it down to a mere distraction. Only for it to eat an annoyed groan from across the way.

"You so have no plan and you're accepting that! That is like the worse plan of hoping things work out I've ever heard!" You couldn't help the need to express your opinion suddenly. Even though she had never even asked or told you for sure she was getting evicted. "What happened if you don't find anything? You're just gonna be homeless?"

She knew her circumstances weren't the greatest, but what was she really to do? "I'm sure I'll find something, worst case is an old people home. Don't worry so much about me, baby."

You couldn't help it though. Ever since she introduced herself to you, you couldn't help but worry about her. "I can't help it. You're here just alone 24/7. I hardly see you leave to even get groceries."

"You pay too much attention to my life then," she chuckled. You could tell it was in attempt to change the topic to something, anything else.

"Lilia. I'm serious." Your features rested as your eyes held all your emotions.

She stared at you for a long second. Just staring. The dark chocolate swirls of her eyes werwarmer than ever before in the moonlight. "What would you like me to do then?" She wasn't giving you any sass, it was her genuinely asking you.

You leaned forward, resting your arms on your thighs and you thought. Trying to think of anything you could possibly do to help her. It looked more like you were studying her carpet than thinking....your study. It was a spare bedroom, surely big enough for her. It's not even in the works, still a board of inspiration on Pinterest. She could come live with you. You make enough to cover and with the extra money you still have left over.

Lilia watched as it clicked into place for you. Seeing the glimmer of hope find its way to your eyes highlight. "I have an extra room." You began, raising a finger as she was about to speak. Her eyes widen, "you honestly have no room to argue. No rent, nothing. But in request you help at the shop sometimes?"

She sat silent, just hard staring you."You drive a hard bargain, you know that? You must do this often if you're this good at it." Lilia caved with a huff. You made a strong point anyways. "But you forget, the clay is all your thing."

Your smile was back, "I'll teach you! I'm closed on Sunday's, so it'll be the perfect day to introduce you to the shop and all the things you'll need to know. I won't make you do anything too hard, I promise." your hand extended over the coffee table. "Do I have a deal?"

Her eyes dropped to your hand, she took it with hers. "Fine, you have yourself a deal."

But you didn't really expect the outcome of the deal after a few months of it. You learned of Lilia's habits at home quickly. Like how she's very neat, but also loves a little bit of clutter. For example the tv stand is lined with her crystals and other tarot decks. She kept a specific one on the coffee table however, perfectly stacked and only she touched it.

Although, you couldn't help yourself one night. She had already gone off to bed and you had to do the order before you forgot. Your hands were delicate with them, scared that one touch would make the paper incinerate right before you.

They were what you assumed average. That was until you pulled your flashlight out to really look at the art work and paint. Each card was hand painted and sealed, the gold 'L.C' in the corner of them told you exactly who did it as well. She hand made her deck and just left them lying about like they were everyday cards.

It gave you the perfect idea for a birthday gift for her, seeing as the day was already a few days away. The topic of gifts hadn't come up at all, even when you did try and bring it up, she gave you practically nothing. Yet now you analyzed her personal cards and had to make a matching holder for them.

Your nights at the shop had begun to drag till almost eleven as you hunched over the dried holder. Painting details that matched to the cards, wiping them off after concluding they weren't perfect, only to repaint them. It was like this for almost two weeks. It was two weeks you hardly saw your roommate or even asked her to come in.

The Friday leading to her birthday, was the first time you'd been home at a reasonable time. Not that ten was any better, but when you unlocked the door and got in, Lilia was waiting with a wine glass in her hand.

"Look who's finally home." She was sarcastic about it. Like she was upset that this was another late night with no text, call, or explanation. "Two weeks and this is the first time I'm seeing you."

"You miss me?" The joke rolled from your tired tongue. You trudged to your room, placing your bag down and ridding of your day clothes into a black long sleeve and red plaid boxers. "I'm sorry, the shop has been really busy with the schools on break. Everyone's doing homemade gifts in class and then there's just the everyday pieces. I plan to have everything fired and ready for pick up tomorrow, then I'm closed for like three days."

"So you've been busy, I could've come to help. It is the deal." She got up to pour you a glass, except you just grabbed hers and took a sip. Her brown eyes stalked you talking a sip.

Your face contorted and you waved her back down. Getting up to get your own juice and pouring it into a matching glass. "It wasn't anything I couldn't have handled. Plus a lot of it was kiln work, I didn't teach you anything about Kit."

"Kit? Who's Kit?" Her brows furrowed as she took another sip. You both sat on the couch, you turned to stare at her fully with both legs crossed, while she had one leg bent and leaned against her fist to face you.

"The kiln. He's honestly the only man I would ever allow into my life. Except it seems that people don't take kindly to a kiln being picked over them." You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged. Really not hearing the issue even as Lilia laughed at you.

"You don't understand how a big oven being picked would offend someone? You do know what you look like and your personality right?" She raised that perfect brows. You loved when she looked at you like this, you knew it meant she was teasing you and meaning it with humor.

"I could look and act like anyone," you tilted the glass at her. "I don't know, maybe I like me and my ceramics. They can never really break my heart. It's easier to trust the Earths natural gifts than an unpredictable human with my heart."

"That's playing it safe, baby." She spoke so softly. Yet every word dug into your brain to the core. Lilia downed her glass and stood up, "I'm turning in for the night. Do you need any help at the shop with all the pickups?"

You knew you brought home hers, so she had no chance of seeing it early. "That'd be really nice, thank you. Have a goodnight, Lilia." You stayed on the couch as she headed for her door. Ignoring (attempting to) how sudden the couch felt without her.

~

The next morning you were up and making Lilia's favorite breakfast. Well...maybe not her favorite, she never outright said it. A lot of things you know of her are honestly from the context of her stories. It was working though, you always seemed to know your way with her.

"You're up early?" Her voice echoed into the kitchen space. She stood in her silk pajamas. They were yellow stripes but they suited her. "Cooking as well?"

"It's a thank you for helping me since it'll be busy today." You spun around, finding her leaning against the counter and staring at you. Yet, you couldn't figure out how she was staring. It was a look you've never seen before from her. "If you're too tired you don't have to."

"No, no...nothing like that. What are you making? Or attempting to make?" She brushed it off and was switching her stare to something more teasing and delightful.

Your nose scrunched up, "I'll have you know a wise woman once said she enjoyed my cooking in the morning. But if you must, it's French toast with cinnamon and strawberry frosting. Served cutely with a cup of coffee."

"Now you're spoiling me. Is it really gonna be that busy?" Lilia watched you plate the breakfast and serve her first. Giving her a show of garnishing. "You should hope you're wrong."

You smirked, knowing you weren't wrong. "And if I am, then this'll have been me spoiling you because I'm sorry I've been out late with no word." You hummed before turning to start your own breakfast. "It'll be nice anyways. Billy's been asking about you recently so he'll be excited to see you. So will Agatha, she doesn't verbally show her liking for people but it's in her actions and expressions sometimes. And her pottery, she really pours her emotions out. Alice also enjoys your company, she said you and Jen, that's her roommate though we all know they're together, would be good friends." You were rambling on about everyone suddenly. Telling her about everyone and how much they always ask about her. It carried you through the entire breakfast.

Lilia was left speechless. She didn't realize that many people knew about her and asked. Nor the fact you were the one they were always asking and you always had an answer. "Now you're just trying to flatter me."

"No! Really! When you come in they're gonna love seeing you! We should start getting ready though, I have a class starting earlier today and running later." You collected the plates and put them in the sink. Slipping away without another word to get into pottery clothes.

With the weather getting nicer you had settled for a light yellow long sleeve and a pair of art overalls. You had painted flowers from the splatters from projects. Slipping on your old boots and grabbing your bag. Leaving your hair in the messy clip you did this morning.

As you closed your door, Lilia's closed in time with you. Your head snapped around to her in a flowing skirt and a sweater filled with colors. Her curls were free, falling graciously down her back and you suddenly felt your heart stop. Your hand was at your chest, and you just played it to dusting your shoulder.

You hadn't said anything after seeing her then. Staying silent and scolding yourself to not gawk and drool over her. No matter how badly you could imagine your hands tangled in her peppered mane, along with the many reasons why. Your cheeks must've flushed cause Lilia was staring at you now worried.

You were in the middle of moving the paints and everything to the circle table in the sunlight. But you had stopped and were just staring out the window. Blushing from your own lucid thoughts.

"Your cheeks are warm and pink," her voice cut through. Her soft hands were on your cheeks before you had noticed, holding them for only a moment. Lilia glowed in the sun light. Just like she did in the moonlight. She was earthal. Universally beautiful. Day and night, never did she falter. A timeless beauty.

"I'm..I'm good. I just..don't worry." You managed out finally. It felt like the air was being vacuumed out your lungs. Your chest was beginning to feel tight. Is this what dying is? An angel to hold you while it all just goes warm and tingly? Or is this what love felt like? Were they the same thing?

Saved when Billy was soon the first to show up. You must be behind already. You're too distracted today. Asking yourself by what was a foolish move, you just couldn't grasp the reality of the cause.

"Oh Lilia! It's good to see you again! We've missed you around here." He greeted the lady with a hug before coming to settle at the table. "You should join our class for today, we're making a tea set this time. And since you guys live together you could divvy up the work."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose. I'm just here to help hand out the finished pieces." She waved a dismissive hand, much to your dismay. Even when she caught the sad glint take root in your eye, she stood by the front desk.

"I'm sure with a good towel and teamwork, you both could manage. Join us just for the day." The teen was persistent as he tied the apron around his body. "Come learn the juicy gossip this one spills in the circles."

"I do not spill any gossip! If anything it's Agatha who tells the most," you defended your name. A finger raised in the air, "and besides, I don't live a life to have anything!"

"Oh that's such a lie," Agatha had waltzed in. Her hair already pinned back and instantly found her seat at the table. "Just last week you had a fresher scoop on Dotti and her husband before I did. And I'm their neighbor!"

Lilia looked shocked to hear this, her eyes wide as they stared at you. "And what do you know about Dotti and her husband?" She challenged you.

And suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped. "Ok so, there's an update to them as well, from like yesterday morning. So to fill you in," you slowly sat down at your wheel.

Alice came in last finally, "we're already gossiping? I knew I was running late but not this late." She filled the empty wheel to your right. Making haste to get situated and get right in.

"We just started. We're starting with Dotti." You wiggled your brows.

"Oh! Did you hear about yesterday morning?!" You nodded your head. "Oh I heard the actual end of it, it sounded good so I'm ready." Alice sat, hands at the ready.

Your hands grabbed at the clay from the center, everyone following. "So I heard that he had forgotten their anniversary....again." You got lost in telling the details, some so itty bitty they questioned if you were actually there.

Lilia, from the front, listened and paid every ounce of attention to you when not helping a customer. She noted how relaxed you were in this setting. Eyes trained to the clay that span under your fingers, shoulders dropped, smile blooming as everyone talked. Overall, you seemed so at peace. She enjoyed watching you in this state.

"Yeah, Rio said she'd join one day." Agatha had spoken when Lilia tuned back in to the full conversation and not staring at you.

"We could do a little couples pottery! Alice and Jen, Agatha and Rio, Me and Teddy!" Then he turned to you and you could only throw your head back in laughter. "It's not funny! You've lived here long enough and still haven't tried dating!"

"Oh but that's not what I've heard." Agatha was the one to eye you now. Your face reddened when you felt her gaze burn into your hair. "Rumor is you're getting home late for two weeks?"

You shook your head, "officer no! It's not what you think!" You cried humorously before agreeing though. "Yeah, I have been. I've been busy here at the shop. Someone's gotta fire everything."

"Got any witnesses to back you up? Cause it gets juicier." Agatha continued, her eyebrow sharp.

You gasped, geneuinly confused on what's being said about you. "Oh my- what have people been saying?! Do people think I'm a...whore?" You whispered the title. Devastation written all over your face.

Lilia was dying to know where this was leading. This was her answer of if you really were here all those hours or you found someone young and they just kept you out all night. Being young.

"Oh they're thinking more than that. Recently Norm has been getting home around those hours as well....I'm sure the dots connect for you just like it does for everyone else." She eyed you, everyone was. "For him it's great, they think he finally found someone. For you though, they're saying it's settling."

You were cackling at that now. "Oh my God, no! I would never settle for Norm! Never! Who even started this rumor?" You couldn't help but to see the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

Your eyes quickly, praying she wasn't already looking at you, jumped to Lilia. She was staring right at you. If you didn't tear your eyes away, you'd have spaced out but when you felt the blush sprinting up your neck you had to. It made its way to your cheeks anyways.

"I think it was Herb. He's always been close with Norm. Maybe he saw you go home late one time." She reasoned, her hands up as she finished her teapot, examining her own work. "It reminds me of Rio."

Alice chuckled, finishing her own pot as well. "Herb and Norm starting the rumor you slept with him honestly makes sense. Recently his mom and sister have been pestering him about bringing a girl around." She added.

"I don't think I've ever even talked to either of them outside this shop. This is why being the young, single, shop owner is a trap in itself. If I wasn't a young, single, shop owner they would've never even bothered. So next time you hear someone put dirt on my name, I'm going to need you to clean it for me." You pointed a finger to everyone. Making sure they really understood you were serious.

Billy huffed, "so does that mean no couples class?" He put his best puppy eyes forward. And to your surprise, Agatha and Alice had joined him in their own way.

You soaked in their pleading expressions, letting your eyes slowly wonder to the woman at the front. "Fine...Lilia will just have to be my partner for it. And she'll act like it's the worst thing she's ever done, but we all know I'm the best in town."

"Please," Lilia scoffed. "Just the other week you didn't understand why picking a kiln over a human was offensive." She handed out the last pick up for the day. Surprised that it was all gone before two. She had finally came over to see what was actually happening.

"First of all, he has a name. His name is Kit. Use it and respect it. Second, maybe people should be more understanding." You shrugged. "Alright, I say we each make at least four tea cups. They're the same as the bowls basically, but...cup shaped."

Billy waved in the air first. "No, hold on. We are not skipping that. I've first hand seen Rio try to flirt with Agatha when she's pissed off, but that takes the title for most embarrassing."

Your jaw dropped with a gasp. "Excuse me! It's not embarrassing at all!"

"It so is! You're literally hot and you're picking kilns over people? That's like the biggest case of looks being deceiving." He kept going. His hands moving around in dramatics. "Like you pull in with the great appearance, and then you pick...the oven. I bet it's something deeper. There's another reason you pick the kiln."

Agatha perked up, eyes instantly glowing. She was ready to poke at you. "Oh I bet there is. You make the kiln out of the bodies of your dates and that's why we never know who they are?"

"Agatha...what the fuck?" You used the ball of your hand to rub between your furrowed brows. "There is no deeper meaning on why I like my kiln over most people."

"Over most...there's someone you're after isn't there?" Her brown eyes bored into you, not letting you look to anyone for help. She held you hostage for an answer. "Oh there is. Who is it? Is it actually Norm?"

"No!" Your voice worked quicker than your brain. "No there is no one, and even if there was it wouldn't be Norm. Like I said, I would never settle with a man. I'm dedicated to women, have been since I was sixteen. Billy is the only one here who likes men anyways."

"You never let us poke fun at you." Billy sighed. His eyes bouncing up to Lilia. "Do you get to make jokes at home?"

In that moment, you turned up to see. A part of you wondering what she would really answer. Because in reality, you do let her make fun of you. Every day, any day if she wanted. If it earned you a smile or a laugh, you didn't care. You just wanted to see and hear her happiness.

"Every now and then I get a good one in. For two weeks I haven't made one though, someone's too busy sneaking around with Norm." Lilia made her point, her cunning smirk stared back at you.

You managed out a chuckle and shook your head, "I'm not sneaking around! Can I not just be a shop owner who was tending to her customers work?"

Alice was the one to answer, "that's too easy. You need a little spice on your name."

"No! No I don't! I like my life plain, it's never disrupted and is just there." You tried to defend, suddenly it seemed with Lilia next to you everyone was going to get a dig in.

"Yeah, except a plain life wouldn't involve late nights with no alibi." Billy pointed.

"So you really do have to be hiding something from us if you're trying to play it down." Agatha nodded along.

"I was here. I know it's the truth so believe it or not. I was here for two consecutive weeks firing and making things for people to just come paint. Because I'm starting that soon, instead of being just clay." You were insistent now, really just wanting to clear the two weeks.

There was a collection of hums, trying to decide if it was a good enough excuse or not. "And where are these pieces then?" Lilia nudged you. She hadn't seen any extra pieces in the back.

You were silent. Caught in your own lie. Usually, the three wouldn't have known what's in the back. You would've told them there, that you have a shelf near the kiln to put them all on. But Lilia had been back there. She's seen what's there and what was not there.

"Oh..seems like you've been put in the hot seat. How do you plead now?" Agatha's eyes raised to find you with rosy cheeks and trained to your own hands.

"Not guilty." You mumbled. "I'm dropping the topic." The three groaned but let it go anyways. Leaving the rest of the class to random talks about what's been happening in their lives, minus you as they seemed to already know.

And the topic never came back up till it was just you and Lilia in the shop. With the sign on the door reading close and each cleaning in different areas. You in the back putting in the pieces from today and then going to wipe down and wash the tools used.

"So...if you've been sneaking around," she raised. Holding back her laugh as you groaned. "Well you were the one who was caught in a lie."

"Yeah cause I didn't think you'd air me out like that! I really have been here. You know I don't like men, I've stressed that, so it's not even realistic. I've been here just working honestly." You sounded more defeated, maybe it was cause you were tired as the sun slowly started setting. "Why does it bother you so much, even if it was me sneaking around?"

Lilia was suddenly next to you, her lips pressed together. She was biting back her true answer and now you knew how it felt to not know the truth. "If you're sneaking around, it means it's not for the public and you just deserve better than that, that's all. I want you to be happy and well taken care of."

"I am happy. I am also well taken care of. I have no purpose to sneak around with anyone. If I was, you would've known of them by now. But there is nobody. I don't need anyone else," your sentence fell off and remained incomplete. there was a moment where you both just stared in silence. Like you both knew that there was something being unsaid. "We should finish up and get home. I haven't had a night at home in ages." Her curls bounced in agreement. Leaving your side and going back to the front, wiping down a few more tables.

~

When you got home, you could only sigh. The day had finally caught up to you and you wanted nothing but out of your clothes. Lilia seemed the same way as she had instantly disappeared into her room. At first that's what you really did believe, expecting her to come back out within five minutes to have a drink with you.

You chose something simple, a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low and the same long black sleeve from the other night. Finally letting your hair down and washing your skin from all the clay that still was on you. Feeling incredibly refreshed for the night.

You left your room, sliding in socks to the kitchen. Pouring two glasses, one red and the other juice. You couldn't help but giggle at how childish you seemed drinking fruit punch out a wine glass, mocking the wine glass that was clearly darker. Lilia had joined you only a few seconds later, wearing your shirt and pajama pants.

You pulled your legs together and stared at her. "So..your birthday is tomorrow. Got any plans? Anything you want?" You started, taking the first sip as well.

"Little late to be asking about a gift, don't ya' think?" She leaned back to fully look at you, head propped against her fist. You've realized how natural this is, how easily you both fall into this exact spot night after night.

"That's you assuming I didn't already get you something." You hummed, wiggling your brows a bit. "Anything you want to do?"

"I haven't celebrated a birthday in ages, I don't think I'll start now. But thank you for the thought." She went to shut down the topic, but your facial expression was unsatisfied. "I'm sorry, its just another day for me."

"Boo!" You gave her two thumbs down in her face. Pulling them away before she could swat them down, the sound of your laugh gracing the air. "Well, luckily for you Lilia Calderu, I have a special day planned for you that is the perfect mix of relaxing and spoiling." You beamed, proud of how well you managed to keep everything quiet till now.

The older woman only shook her head. "Baby, we really don't have to celebrate it. Really." Your stomach did flips at the pet name, the blush on your cheeks reddening just slightly. It seemed once you realized your hearts desires, you couldn't conceal anything anymore.. "Anyways, you've done enough for me this year than needed."

"That's because I wanted to do those things. You think I stood outside your shop in the cold because I needed to? I did it cause I wanted to know you. And now that I know you, I want to do something meaningful for you. Also it's a day to celebrate my favorite roommate, so yeah..we're celebrating tomorrow." Your eyes were everything of warm and giving. Lilia enjoyed this stare, how you treated her so well.

She caved, "Alright, what do you have planned? Pottery at the shop?"

You audibly gasped, "Lilia do you think that's all I know?!" You were so happy here. "I planned a late morning so you can sleep in, so I can sleep in, and then I'll make your favorite brunch. After we're going to that one show you had mentioned wanting to see, but eating dinner before because it's not till 8. Everything would be closed by the time we got out. To finish, we'll do presents before bed."

"That is quite the day planned. Is there a limit to how late we're sleeping in? And what say do I get in any of this?" She wasn't objecting to anything, so you figured you had done well. Now everything just had to go as well.

Your head shook left to right, "no ma'am. Sleep as late as you want. It's brunch for a reason. And as for what say you get, you can have all the say, I just made the plan." Your hands were in the air surrendering all power to her.

~

While you had woken up first and began cooking, you wore boxers and the same black long sleeve. Shaking your hips at the song in your head. Something about today told you that it was bound to be so much better than what you had prepared.

Today you woke up and told yourself you would hint at your feelings. Leaving it open for her to catch on in her own time, but you couldn't bring yourself to out right tell her. Not when you had no idea if she could ever reciprocate those feelings. Yet, you danced while making the perfect breakfast for you and her to share.

Your mind couldn't help to focus on her though, subconsciously flipping the pancakes at this point.

Lilia was many things, you had realized this quickly, but your favorite word to tease her with was kooky. Sometimes even wispy. She always was mumbling different tarot cards to herself. You had played it down to a pull she did earlier or something that had a significance with the card. You also used those terms when she would be scolding you for some tiny mess you had left from either cooking or doing pottery out on the balcony. Those were your favorite times as well.

If it was just right outside and you had enough free time, you would work on new techniques and designs. Lilia would bring herself, a cup of tea leaves, and a blanket that would be wrapped over her legs. She would watch you work first, maybe for the most of ten minutes, before she emerged herself into the tea leaves. You never understood it either, you weren't in her world unfortunately. You knew nothing about tarot or tea leaves. She never let you in either, not like how you did her into your world of clay.

As much as it pained you to not see through her lens, you had managed to accept it and witness from the neighboring universe. You mostly enjoyed being her witness when she couldn't sleep and asked you to come sit in the living room with her. Even if it had been the most grueling day at work, you did. You pried yourself from the warmth of your bed and to the living room.

You were unaware of the many times you did fall asleep though. Lilia felt bad most those nights, yet she needed your presence to ground her from it all. All the crazed times she travels through. But it wasn't till the first time you had came out and laid your head in her lap, so exhausted you didn't even fight it and just slept on her lap that night. Her hands pulled the lovers card as well that night.

"You're making pancakes?" Her voice cleared your thoughts instantly. Especially when you whipped around to see her. Lilia had her curls free from all maintenance, sleep evident in her eyes as she yawned. She still was in your shirt.

"Do you not want pancakes, birthday girl?" You wore a teasing smirk already. Excited to celebrate her even more as she was awake. "I made chocolate chip ones, assuming that you liked them a lot the way you wolfed down three the first time I made them for you."

"Alright no need to be so cocky, baby. It's my day remember? Plus, you surrendered all control so I'd be nice if I were you." She fed your teasing right back to you. Finding a seat at the kitchen table, knowing you were already done in time for when she woke up. Her eyes followed you as you danced around the kitchen to gather everything and set the table. "Thank you," she hummed when you placed a perfect plate in front of her. "You really have stepped up your presentation skills."

"Only the best for you Madame Calderu." You glowed with her attention on you. Taking your own seat, you raised your glass of orange juice. "Happy birthday, Lilia." Lilia smirked at your antics but raised her glass anyways. Clinking the rim of her glass to yours.

It fell quiet for the first bites, the only sound that could be heard was Lilia moaning in approval at the taste of each pancake. A childish glimmer was in her eyes. "You know how to make a girl feel special." She praised you as she continued to eat. You only giggled and let the silence return as you also ate without much to say.

Even while you cleaned up, it was silent as Lilia stayed at the table and watched your every move. You were overly aware of that fact as well. "Can I ask you a question about your pajama choice?" It wasn't what you were expecting, but you nodded anyways. "It's a mix of very feminine pieces, like silks and pinks, while other times it's this almost masculine? What's that all about?"

"Most of my clothes are the ones from my exploring as a twenty year old who didn't know what type of gay was the right one yet. So I went between being hyperfeminine and masculine to see who was right for me. Eventually I gave up because it seemed it was never me, but more so who I was with. I didn't like that idea of changing my appearance for others though. I kept a mix of it all because in the end I'm gonna be gay, so what do my clothes matter?" You had rambled a bit, being honest about the evolution of your wardrobe. "Does it bother you?"

"No...no, I was just intrigue. I do your laundry and sometimes it really does look like you have a man here whose clothes I'm always washing. I can see why people think you and Norm were happening." She smirked behind the rim of her mug.

Your head had whipped around, a mean glare being shot from your spot. "I'm not sneaking with Norm! I have eyes for someone else anyways! So ha!" You stuck your tongue out at her.

"Oh yeah? Who? Kit?" She scrunched her nose. Not giving you a chance to keep defending yourself by getting up to find a spot on the couch. Also, Lilia didn't want to hear about you having the hots for anyone that wasn't her. It awoke a green monster she hadn't seen in a long time. "Did you plan anything for the four hours between brunch and getting ready?"

You came over after finishing up, head shaking. "No, I figured id leave it open for you to decide what we do?" You sat closer than intended, the couching sinking under you and sliding you right next to Lilia. It would be rude to scoot away so you got yourself situated to be more comfortable. "Maybe catch up on the show you've missed the last few episodes of?"

"You'd really sit here and watch that with me?" She really was enjoying having you do whatever she wanted already. "You said last time, and I quote, this show doesn't even had good plot, the gayness is all portrayed wrong. No lesbian actually does that pose."

You glanced down to your hands then back to her. "For you Lilia Calderu, it seems I will do a lot of things. So if that is truly what you want to do, then I will sit here and suffer for your happiness." You sighed out defeat as she reached for the remote. "It really is not how any gay person would act, I want you to know that."

"Yeah? And how do they really act?" She turned to look at you, the first moment the brown was visible for you, your brain failed to comprehend. It was honestly a good example of a gay panic without intent. "Hmm, so I see." Her hand was on your cheek instantly following. Her eyes darkened just slightly as she searched your features.

"See..see what?" You so dumbly managed, completely in this woman's trance. Never wanting to leave it though, all her focus was you and she just saw you.

Although, she flashed you that smile and the conversation was dropped as the show began playing. Her attention no longer on you but on the screen. There it stayed for the next few hours, never breaking away. Well you wouldn't know as you caved into the body heat Lilia radiated and fell into a small nap on her shoulder.

Lilia however refused to wake you until four, lulling you into a deeper state of sleep by playing with the few strands that weren't clips back. But surely she had taken it out to really play in your hair, nails scratching over your scalp as you pushed deeper into her side. A hand throwing itself over her lap was the sign you were actually deep asleep. How long had you been up for you to be this tired naturally? The day had hardly started.

Yet, by five-thirty both of you stood by the doors to your bedrooms gawking at the other. You, in a baby pink mini dress, the back was a corset and a big bow right atop your butt. A simple white short cardigan covered your arms and white chunky heels dawned your feet. Tying everything together with an assortment of jewels and metals. Lilia, in plaid wide legged pants that flowed nicely, it was assortments of yellows and blues over a deep maroon. A plain white button up and a mustard yellow jacket that complimented with the pants. She must've been wearing some platform on her boots as she stood only slightly taller than her average days.

You smiled and your cheeks warmed when she returned it. "You look nice," you made the first step towards the door. Picking up your keys and opening the door for her. "M'lady," you bowed and gestured out.

"You look lovely as well, baby. I could almost tease you all night long while you look this cute." Huh? Had you heard her right? There was no time to question it once she was out the door, looping her arm with yours as you began to talk down. "So where is dinner?"

You slightly smiled, still caught on her previous statement. "It's a little place Billy and Alice both suggested. We told Agatha to not give her opinion after she suggested Starks. That woman and her...Rio are the finest dinners I've ever met. But it's still nice and up there, just more affordable."

"I'm sure it'll be just fine." She hummed. Her approval seemed to be something you were always constantly chasing, stressing yourself for it to the days end. You loved when she thought you did a good job. It at some point began to tickle a need and drive in you, even if you were unaware.

And the dinner was fine, actually it was almost perfect. You had known they served Sicilian specialties, which made Lilia ecstatic to try and compare them to her own cooking. Maybe you should start learning more dishes to cook.

You did let her pick your meal, seeing as you were oblivious to what half of the items tasted or even looked like. It was how you asked that stirred the shift. "Lilia...can you order for me?" You were so shy about asking her. It was such a childish thing to do, when you could've looked it all up, but she was there and knew how each one should taste.

Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her brown earthal gaze was full of mischief and mysteries. "Aww, the lil' chef out her comfort zone? Don't worry, I've got you baby." Lilia beamed anyways and glanced back to the menu. Leaving you to sit dumb and pretty.

The way her lips formed the pet name was enticing. Calling you closer when they pressed together, but pulling back when you did lean in. The deep red was perfect for her. It complimented her every shimmer of her eyes when she got lost in the topic with you.

Lilia called you 'baby' a lot more during the dinner after you had asked her as well. You squirmed in how you slowly felt yourself slipping further and further into her. The worst part about it was the fact she knew what she was doing. Her faux worries of, "baby are you ok?" Or if it was her hand grabbing yours and saying, "can I do anything to help?" Her fingers tracing into your palm, more specifically her middle and ring finger pushing them into the skin.

The server was your savior for the night, coming by frequently to give you time to collect yourself from Lilia. Trying your absolute best to pull your brain back to this planet. Especially when they brought out the little slice of cake with a candle.

The sight of it sobered you up thankfully. A goofy grin shinning from your glossed lips. "Happy Birthday Lilia," you were sparkling like the flame. This was the moment you waited for all night. To see the hidden child finally be celebrated. To see a woman to finally be celebrated for holding on. To see Lilia being celebrated for just being herself.

She felt the world disappear as she blew out the candle. Feeling the wave of appreciation you sent her way as the smoke swayed into the air. "You really are the sweetest, ya' know? Always taking care of me, from the very start. I knew there was something to you."

You weren't quite sure what that meant but you gave a nervous laugh. "I just know when I like someone I guess. I care about the people I like. You're one of those people. You always will be." Your emotions were mixed within your words and they invaded your eyes.

Lilia let her hand return to your cheek, "you make me feel special when you look at me like that."

It was the perfect opening, "it's cause you are. You've been special...and kooky." You teased her back finally. Her eyes narrowing just slightly at you, her hand falling and retreating. But you grabbed it and held it for a second, "I mean it. You are special Lilia. I've been trying to get you to realize that." A weight had crumbled from your shoulders. Even if it wasn't a direct confession, it made you feel open enough that she had a grasp of the idea.

She sighed and focused on how your fingers played with her rings. Your touch was soft and precise. She should've known that though, with how you work with clay and design such intricate shapes, of course you had skilled hands. "You might be the only one who thinks that much of me."

"Good, only I can think of you." It came flying out quicker than you noticed. Once Lilia let out a rumbling laugh, you caught up.

"What? You wanna be my only baby or something?" The confidence she radiated made you feel hot. You put yourself in this situation.

If you backed down, you'd never know. If she said no, that she didn't feel the same, you'd be ok with that. You might spend the night crying and alone but that'll be ok.

"What if I do?" You tried to match her, not even coming close when she shifted more forward. Her canine teeth barred themselves to you. The light making them look sharper than you've ever noticed.

Her tongue darted out, catching your attention to those lips again. Your breathing picked up and you felt on the edge like you've never been before. It was a long drop, you knew that, but if you just got one kiss you'd happily fall. Hell, you'd full sprint off the edge while laughing hysterically.

You pried away and back to her eyes. They were now dark rivers in the night. Lust swimming around and creating little waves of reflected moonlight. This was a look you never knew could be real. "You wanna be mama's good girl don't you?"

The names. The look. Her touch under yours. It was earth shattering. Like everything you had built and had made was only the second important thing to you. The first was her. The first had always been her. "Yes...yes please." Your eyes glossed over in seconds. Succumbing to her dominance and slipping bashful.

Lilia grew a grin that was a combination of everything from sweet and nurturing to hot and destructive. "Is that really what you want, baby?"

Your head nodded while your lips slightly parted. "Yes, more than anything. Please..." the server came back around once more with your card and the final receipt. Wishing you both a goodnight, and Lilia another birthday wish. You signed it smoothly and then huffed yourself back into the reality of what was just happening. "I really do want this."

Lilia hadn't taken you as one to have such a deep headspace, so when you were really meeting her gaze she knew it couldn't have been easy to come back from it. She was the first to stand, wrapping herself in the yellow coat. It was then she came and stood closer to you, having the higher advantage. "I do too, believe me." She leaned forward and kiss your forehead. "I do too, baby." Her kisses must've been powerful because your eyes were blown all over again. You had fallen deep back into it. She couldn't help to hold your soft cheek at it all, it was one of her new favorite moments. "Why don't we go see that show?"

You beamed and nodded. Pulling your own coat over your dress. You were instant to intertwine your fingers, letting her pull you on out but keeping you close behind. You already were a fan of holding her hand, never wanting to let go.

The only time you did was when you sat and her hand held your thigh. She left it there the entire show. It was a distraction just being still, it was derailment when her nails scratched up and down. You had tried to grab her hand and hold it still, yet she would only turn and give you this warning look before returning to the stage. You let go and traced shapes into her hand to focus from her ministrations.

It was the end of the show and not a single line had reached you. You just stood with everyone else while clapping along. The echoing applause sounded the same as the crackling of fire that was your skin. Lilia had you warming up with such light touches. But eventually, it all died down and the cool air of outside is sizzling your skin out.

"Did you like it?" Lilia had asked you, a little eager to know your thoughts on such a show. You only nodded, attempting to play it like you had been paying attention and not thinking of her and all the things she might do to you. Those wised eyes knew though, she knew you hadn't caught a single thing said the moment her hand touched your soft thigh. "Yeah? And what was your favorite part?"

"The acting." You so simply stated. Hoping it was good enough for her to not continue to press. But that would be too easy.

"Who's?" She raised her brow and all you could do was give her a blankness look while walking closer to the car. "You weren't paying attention were you?" The guilt filled your body and answered in itself. Lilia's curls danced around her as her head shook. "That truly is a shame, it's an amazing play."

Your frown was quick to appear, "'m sorry...it's just...you didn't make it easy..." you apologized. Stepping into her space and looping your arm with hers.

"Oh so it's my fault?" She lowly chuckled out her question. A cocky smile filling the silence as you stuttered out sounds but no words. "I'm just teasing you, baby. Don't get yourself so worked up over it."

"And because of your teasing I couldn't pay attention." You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning against her to throw off her balance. Succeeding in the efforts and snickering.

Lilia laughed with you, even as she regained herself. Her arm slipped from yours and her hand settled on your back. "Did I tease you the entire time to work you up? Maybe. And maybe pretty girl, I plan to finish what I started at home."

You rounded to stand in front of her, cheeks turning red but the night dimming it out. Her lips were curled with a smirk that implied everything you needed to know. Soon it was you holding her hand and dragging her to the car.

~

It started with her straddling your lap in the center of your bed. Her lips kissing all over yours and down your neck, finding every right spot to leave you gasping. The feeling felt overwhelming, to finally have her kissing you. It was feeling like everything was hypersensitive. Stinging with pleasure as she continued all over.

Your hand slipped into her curls, twisting your fingers with the pattern and holding her close. She knew how to work a body and it showed.

Lilia also knew how to stake her claim. Leaving bruises all down the spans of your neck. A silent thought to show the town you were no longer available rang in her head. And when your hand found her hair, she only could groan against you. You needed her just as she needed you. It made her blood rush with anticipation. She wanted to make you feel better than you've ever felt. Really secure her place in your mind. Making sure nobody could ever come in and kick her out.

Her lips were plush against your pulse. Even when they covered her teeth as they sunk into you, the moan slipped straight from your throat. Your free hand flew to steady yourself on her hip, feeling the heat radiating from her. How it seeped through her clothes and onto your exposed skin.

"Lilia..." You hummed before swallowing thickly. You didn't know what you were actually asking for, all you knew is you wanted more of her. In your sight, on your tongue, in your hands, echoing in your ears, and filling your every breath. The very feeling of her on you wasn't enough as you really caved into her. "Mama..."

Her hum vibrated against you, "Yes baby?" You whined at the pet name finally. Knowing that if there was anytime to let her know her effect it was here and now. And the way she called you 'baby' always tickled something deeply rooted in your brain.

You sighed out, the hand on her hip began fisting her top. Begging her closer, "more..."

"So needy...I bet you've been needing me for a while haven't you?" Her movements lightened to almost ghostly passes. It made your skin crawl with goosebumps. "You're the perfect gift for me baby." She spoke low and with rasp. "My perfect girl."

You gasped at the claim. "All yours..." you tightened your grip. Just the subtle touches of her, the amber and deep musk invading your lungs, the sounds of her lips on your skin, sucking, bruising you, everything. It was everything this woman was doing and also wasn't doing that drove you into override. Your mind felt hazy and your body felt hot and tingly. "Mm..please mama...I need more." You whined.

Lilia pulled off, cupping your cheek and seeing that long gone look in your eyes. Your pupils dilated to the very brim of color. "I hear you baby," she hummed. It was effortless to get you to lie down. All it took was a glance back at the pillows and you were crawling frantically to get comfortable. "You look so damn adorable in this dress. Just like a doll."

Your cheeks warmed further and you couldn't help the small grin. "Thank you, I bought it just for you," you bashfully confessed. And suddenly you were on your knees showing yourself off to her.

"Isn't that just sweet of you, dressing for me already. And you're so well mannered baby, you really did want to be my good girl." She smirked as your head bobbed in agreement with a proud smile. "You'll be good for me right? Even when mama buries her cock so deep in you?"

Her hands were holding you firmly in place and she was back in your space. On you without even an inch apart. Lilia was struggling to keep her control and work you up...but fuck you for being so precious. She couldn't help the need to destroy it. To make you her slutty baby.

Her shuddering breath made you lower back down from her. Sitting back on your heels and staring up at her. "Yeah...yes..yes I'll be good even then. Promise," you batted your lashes.

The lust in her eyes deepened to something darker. "Mama's gonna have so much fun with you baby."

You glowed with innocence as you eagerly settled your self back into the pillows again, this time Lilia trapped you down with her hands on either side of you. Her devilish smile seemed nothing of mischief to you, so you were giggling up to her. Relishing in what you thought would be slow and languished.

How naive you were.

Lilia's lips were latching to your chest completely disregarding your already bruised neck, making you gasp and cry. But she made a whole new mural of purple across your collar bones. Leaving your chest rising in deep breaths. "Nobody's gonna think you're single now baby. No more rumors with you and anyone else."

You tried to catch yourself to respond but before you knew it her lips were pressing over your covered stomach. "I'm gonna fuck you in and out of this dress so nicely, baby. The things you make me want to do."

"Mama..." you whined while your hips bucked into the air, bumping into her chest. It made you realized how clothed she is against you and your dress. Your hand grabbed her shoulder, fisting the shirt just once more and pulling carefully at it. "Your shirt...off please." You were polite even in your stare as she obliged.

Letting you drink in the sight as she undid each button one by one. Soon the white fabric was on the floor and she was in just her white bra. Her boobs spilling out just right. Your eyes twinkled with thoughts of kissing them and sucking on them. Making her moan and hum in delight.

Lilia must've seen the gears turning cause she returned to kissing her way down. "When I'm done with you, then you can have whatever you need from me. Got it?"

Your head agreed, "yes mama." Your eyes focused on her between your legs. You were desperate to burn it into your brain. More desperate for her to actually eat you out though.

Lilia was kissing all around your core. Your thighs were left with even more love bites than your chest. "I can't wait to taste how sweet my girl is." She pressed her lips to your clit, smiling to herself as you sharply inhaled and body stilled. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling your white panties down and off your legs.

The cold air over your wetness made you shiver in anticipation. It was when her warm breath fanned over you did you cry out. "Please, I need you so bad mama. I can't take any longer." You pleaded.

It was the richest honey her ears had ever been given. Her tongue flattened against you and in one swipe she collected as much of you as she could. Humming in content at your taste that was all hers. This was her secret stash of honey that only she'd ever be allowed to use. And she couldn't get enough.

Her tongue ravage you in ways you didn't expect. Like she had done this so much it was practically second nature. The thought made you shift slightly, but Lilia seemed to know you in this state like the back of her cards. "I've never had anyone like you baby. I just can't get enough. You're so fucking sweet. So...god who did I please to get you? Hmm? My sweet, sweet fucking girl."

Your body loosened and began to heat up. The coil in your stomach tightening in the most delicious ways. "Ma..mama..don't stop please.."

She hummed against you again, picking up her pace and pushing harder against you. Slurping up as much of you as she could as you came with a cry of her name. Her actual name.

You had snapped back to feel the reality of it for just one moment. To grab her hand and squeeze it as she kept licking and sucking at you. And then as conscious as you were, you were back to whining for her.

Lilia delivered one last lick before placing kisses all over your hips and thighs. Trailing all the way up to your lips, were you both hummed at the taste of you. "We're gonna have issues now that I know you're just a piece of my favorite candy. I'll never be able to resist you, baby."

You, still trying to catch a steady breathing, giggled. "You're exaggerating, mama." Your hand cupped her cheek and you smiled widely once again.

Yet, Lilia only crashed her lips to yours once again. This time a little more rough as her tongue slipped in while you gasped. Establishing itself and dancing lead with yours. She was making sure you tasted what she just did. And when she pulled back, her eyes were sharper as they stared down at you. "The way I'm going to fuck you will make you realize just how humble you are. That you wont believe that's how people want to do you. But only mama will get you. Only mama."

It was much more commanding now. The air felt thicker and you felt your body melt into the mattress you were in flames.

Your heavy breathes were the only thing to be heard as Lilia stood and riffed of her pants. Swaying her hips as she disappeared out the room. You took the minute she was gone to just breathe and calm your racing heart beat.

All your efforts were instantly thrown out however. Lilia returned, and much to her word, she had a rather large strap around her waist. Although it looked rather real if you had any say. She pointed towards the ground in front of her. Flashing her sharp teeth as you obeyed and she was able to collect a fistful of your hair. "Go on. Suck mama before she ruins you."

You loved this switch. Yes her softness and delicacy were nice, but this side of her made your skin crawl with heat. She was dominating everything from your body to your mind. There was nothing besides Lilia.

Your plush lips wrapped around just the tip and Lilia's brows twitched for a split second. You had begun to bob up and down her, chalking it up to be the sight getting her off the most. It was when her hips began to roll with the movement of you, hitting deeper in your throat. Then her hand in your hair had begun to tighten and her hips started snapping faster. She was throat fucking you. Groaning and gasping at the desperate way you held her thighs to stabilize yourself as tears rolled past your temples. All while you kept your eyes on hers.

With one last deep thrust, warmth had shot down the back of your throat and Lilia gave a shaky moan. Her hand let up in your hair and you slipped her out your mouth. You swallowed once to get everything down. Cheeks bright red as you stared at the twitching appendage. White cum still oozed slowly out the tip and your eyes had jumped up.

But Lilia didn't explain anything, she just pointed to the bed. "On all fours baby." Was the only instruction.

Apart of you was in conflict. Something was whispering so quietly to pull out of the deep space you were in. It was so quiet it was gone with the sound of floor creaking under your knees as you stood. Finding your spot in the middle, exactly how Lilia wanted you. Listening to the room around you to find the woman.

Her wised hands ran over your hips, one up your spin and to your neck. Pushing you down into the mattress. Her fingers ghosted the curve of your body. "And look, there's even a bow in the back." She played with the fabric a little before flipping it over to bare your ass to her. She was memorized by your glistening folds. "You're impeccable, baby." She held your hips more firm and lined herself up. "Mama's gonna take such good care of you baby. Don't ever worry again."

You let out a strangled moan as she bottomed out, letting out her own grunt as well. Her chest was pressed against your back as she gave you both a second to adjust. And after five, she was slowly easing into her pace. Pulling all the way to the tip, just to slam all the way back in. "Look at you, already taking me so well." Her lips pressed against your spine.

"Th..thank you..'mmhh..mama," you managed. Your hands fisted at the sheets and your hips started to push back against her. Helping her to find a deeper, softer spot. Once she registered it was your sweet spot her hips moved quicker.

Snapping against you and pounding you into the mattress. "Fuck baby...I don't think I can ever let you leave now. Not when you're sucking me in like this." It was brutal how quick she was moving.her hand snuck around your body and two fingers circled around your clit.

"Fuck...fuck me mama. Just like that. Please, please, please just like that." You felt your breath hitch in your throat and your body tighten. It felt all so good, so warm, so right. You clenched around her as you let a moan echo into the room.

But Lilia kept going. Her pace never faltering as she just slammed into you. Her nails digging into your beautiful hips, pulling you back against each thrust. It felt like she had began to find deeper as your body was working up all over again.

"You're so captivating baby, ever since the day you first arrived. I couldn't help myself but want more of you. And denying you..god that was the worst part. I was denying myself. But now, now we're done denying." You heard her words but they felt like muffled harmonies just passing through.

Your body tensed again and you were crying out again. "Mama..." you tried to get away, leaning forward out her grasp.

Yet she had one last thrust in her. She let you slip just away enough, that when she slid right back through your tight warmth, she found the golden spot. Sending you into an intense aftershock and she filled you full and groaned against your shoulder. Her arm hooked around your waist and held you still with her.

Both of you panting and hardly having anything to say. "Let's get you out this dress." She whispered, kissing your sweating temple.

You felt her slip right out of you and lean back. The sound of the harness coming undone caught your ear, yet it never hit the floor. Using your remains strength you pushed up to look for it. But it wasn't anywhere to be found. And when you looked to Lilia, she was walking away from you into the bathroom.

Your mind only thought it over so long before Lilia was returning in a shirt and with a wet towel. She offered you a hand to stand which you took. It was subtle the next moment. Her hands untying the dress and freeing you from it. The pink fell to your feet and you were suddenly butt naked in front of Lilia. Blushing madly as you caught her eyes in the mirror.

She licked her lips. "Oh baby...we might have to do a round two."

~

"That wasn't part of the plan Lilia!" Agatha scolded the older witch. "I need my walking darkhold conscious and aware of reality. Not whimpering and begging mama!"

Lilia sat in the chair feeling ashamed. It wasn't meant to happen. They were supposed to come and pull you from the many witches and warlocks who've added to the Scarlet Witch's curse. Those who knew of your knowledge worked to conceal you into your fairytale life.

But when Agatha Harkness formed a coven to walk The Witches Road successfully, she needed more. She needed you. The walking Darkhold. Secluded and alone between an apartment and clay shop. They were nice enough to give you two locations unlike Agatha.

"Ok, well let's think. She's oblivious to us all having powers. So we're still clear of being detected as anything." Alice pointed out the pro.

"I've been doing pottery with magic for how long and she hasn't noticed." Agatha added. Her blue eyes trained to Lilia as she thought. "Did you use any magic at home?"

Her big brown eyes shifted to look away. "Last night I did..." she murmured but the coven easily knew what she said.

"Oh my god Lilia! You man," Billy nudged her while walking by to get a drink from the kitchen. "So what if you ease her to question it? You have the deepest, no pun intended, connection with her. Drop things of the darkhold to her."

"Are we sure giving Agatha Harkness back the thing is a good idea anyways?" Jen crossed her arms, being against this idea in the beginning.

"She's not a thing." Lilia and Agatha said at the same time. Eyeing each other in suspicion.

"Let's run with Maximoff's idea. What if you mention details I feed you? Ones I know she knows on the fly? I'll write them down and you'll leave them about the place." Agatha played off the boys thought.

"And what if it doesn't work?" Lilia raised the opposing. Apart of her didn't want to break you out. She wanted you all to herself. If you were out you'd be spending all your time with Agatha trying to recreate the Darkhold.

Alice crossed her arms and held herself a little tighter. "We have no choice but to try Lilia. What harm could it bring?"

"Unleashing the last source of spells that have been put into a hook called 'The Darkhold' for a reason." Jen scoffed. As much as she didn't like the idea, she was running with it to free someone 'bound'. She knew that feeling herself.

Agatha hurried around and scribbled down spells onto a variety of sticky notes. In total making seven and handing them to the divination witch. "I need her out the spell Calderu. Don't let whatever feelings you conjured for her little personality ruin this. Or so help me, I will walk in next time and drag her out."

It was an honest promise kore than a threat. Lilia knew that. "Fine. I'll put them around the house tonight before she comes home."

"Good girl," Agatha hummed before leading them out the apartment. After Jen had left, the brunette turned one more time. "Lilia. Get this done so we don't have to be vicious."

So she did. She placed the spells in the places she knows you go straight for when you get home. One in the key bowl by the door, one in the bathroom on the mirror, your pajama drawer, on your nightstand by your charger, the fridge on your fruit punch, in the cup cabinet, and lastly on the black tv screen. It was impossible to miss any of them.

But it didn't prepare her for what you had planned for coming home. You waltzed in basically shinning with joy as you pecked her cheek. She sat in the living room, anxiously waiting your arrival.

"Today was so busy! Busy but good!" You clearly missed the note in the key bowl. There were six other chances. "Pour me juice and I'll be right out," you gave her another peck and we're off into the room.

You first collected something to change into. Feeling a sweats and boxer outfit, you collected the black sweats from the closet and boxers from the top drawer. Grabbing a hoodie as well and throwing it all on to the bed.

Heading into the bathroom next. In need to wash away all the grime and clay that lingered. The note caught your attention first. Your brows furrowed and you mumbled over the words. Something about them felt staticy on your tongue. You even went as far to check yourself in the mirror.

In all, with the new unease you continued through your routine. You were changing clothes when the house just seemed too warm for a hoodie, so you swapped it for a tank. Another note with gibberish was lying on top. Had Lilia placed these about? What are they and why in your drawer?

You kept moving about, finding another next to your charger. You figured you could ask if you brought them to her. Including the one you caught on the tv. "Lilia? What are these notes?" You had four in your hands and none of them made sense.

"Baby...I need you to really concentrate. Do they seem familiar at all?" Her brown eyes were wide with pleads. None of this was making sense to you. "Have you tried saying them out loud?"

"They're in a language I don't even know. What is it even? Latin?" You wildly guessed. You took your spot right next to her and kept trying to read them. "I'm a bit confused. This feels like earlier when Rio stopped by...said something about reality and I just assumed she was making a bad joke."

"Yeah? And what did she say?" Lilia stood, briefly leaving your side to grab the other three. Bringing them back and setting all seven on the coffee table.

You shrugged while staring. "She was on about Agatha needing me in a different reality. Like we knew each other somewhere else. Then she said this one was cute and boring. I need an adventure." You intently focused on the fifth note. "You know Latin right? Said you took a class? Can't you read these?"

"I can, but it's not about me." She shook her head.

"Then what's this about?" You picked up the note and really traced the letters. "This one kinda seems familiar. Like I've seen these letters arranged once before." You kept repeating what you could.

Eventually your broken syllables turned into words. Then you were chanting them. Your body shook with a cold rush that ran all through your veins. You've known this feeling before. Your eyes fell to the other notes, realizing what they were. You knew these spells.

"Oh thank- fucking finally hun!" Agatha's voice barged into the room.

"Oh my- Harkness what the hell happened?" You shot up. Where were you and who were these people around you? Your eyes dropped to your hands, so did Agatha's.

Her chuckle of relief washed the room. "Oh you still have it all. Oh, the Scarlet Witch. She destroyed every copy of the Darkhold. But not you. You got buried deep. Weeks. Months of coven work to get you freed."

You scoffed. "Please, Agatha Harkness and a coven? That's the biggest joke I've heard in my life. Is that who these people all are? Your coven?" Your bite was so familiar for the purple witch, but new to everyone who'd met your false personality.

"I see why you two get along." Jen huffed, taking a seat over on a stool. "So how'd you meet her Darkhold?"

"Unintentionally. She was fucking around with the book, casted a spell and poof! The literal embodiment of all those spells and things you would let take over your morales." Your smile was sickening.

"Yeah, well I need you." Agatha cut the rest of the conversation. Snapping her fingers in your face to get your focus. "I need your knowledge. I need you to rewrite the book."

You sighed, "it's always need, need, need with you Agatha."

"I just freed you from how many curses? This is how you respond?" She was in disbelief.

You nodded, "uhh yeah! I was only in that curse cause of you! Dragged my ass to Westview and played house and now look! Whose house are we even in?!" Your hands were wildly gesturing.

"Yours! Well yours and Lilia's. Ya know? Mama?" Agatha's brow arched and her smile was nothing but teasing. "I know you remember more of those months than you're letting one."

Your eyes dropped to the oldest witch by your side. Well...technically you're the oldest living thing in the room. "You fucked me with a magical dick?" Your brows furrowed. Her cheeks blushed heavily at your forwardness. "I wanna put a pin in that for sure, but in the mean time. Even if we do recreate the Darkhold, it won't be the same. Especially since I have a horrible drawing hand so I could get you the correct formations for certain rituals."

"I don't need rituals! I need power," she groaned. Her hands on your shoulders and pushing you down to the couch. She crouched and held your hands. "You hold over thousands years of dark magic up in the pretty brain of yours hun. I need you to use it for me ok?"

Lilia tensed at the way Agatha was speaking to you. Like she had once been the one to dominate you. "That's because I am well into at least my five thousands."

The three in the kitchen finally took further interest in you. "Hold on," Billy pipped up. Rushing over to hover over you as well. "You're over five thousand years old?"

"I'm the embodiment of that dumb book, yeah. Unfortunately. And you kid, your mother was a pain in my ass. I mean seriously, even under everything, every curse, spell, binding, I could feel her using the book. She never slept, kept me lingering for ever." You pointed before dropping to Agatha again.

"What do you say, hun? Just like old times?" Her blue eyes were silently, and so hidden deeply, begging you.

Lilia was for sure you'd go. That those dark fingertips that used to be clear from all mischief would run off to cause destruction. Leaving her forgotten.

"No."

The room erupted in to confused 'huh's. Except for Jen who was laughing in Agatha's face at the backfiring of her plan.

"What the fuck do you mean no?" Her hands gestured in your lap for any explanation to this.

Your eyes found Lilia. "I want to stay here with her. You're right, I do remember those months. And I remember how real it felt with Lilia. Unfortunately do hope as the Darkhold, I'm still accepted." You were in just her world. "I can give you everything."

To engrossed in those deep swirls, you missed Agatha groaning as she got up. Already just accepting her defeat on having you fully, but she was going to get those spells.

Lilia's hand had come up to your cheek, a thumb stroking over it as her heart swelled. "You really mean it?"

"You'll have to relearn me is the only downside." You placed your dark fingertips on her hand. Finally drawing all the rooms attention to them. The blackness ran far up your arms and under your shirt.

"Wait, wait, wait. Before you go swearing yourself into marriage Bookie I need to know you'll at least give me spells when I need them? I just need something, anything from you." She had that signature annoyed look she always had with you.

"If you ever call me that again I'm not helping you. But for now you have yourself a deal. But don't think you're getting any of the good ones." You hummed, not really paying any mind to her anymore.

"We should go before they start making out..." Alice mumbled, watching you and Lilia get closer and closer slowly. It was comedic how they all scurried out.

The door closing as you, the knowledge of the Darkhold, laughed the wondrous Madame Calderu for the first time clearly.

"I never gave you your gift did it?" The question fell from your lips softly. You were quieter when with just two people. Her curls shook left and right. "Yeah..you did fuck me pretty good. Imma go get it, I know pottery me would've wanted you to actually have it."

You pressed a kiss to the back of her hands and went to get the bag in the corner of your room. Bringing it back with you to the living room. "Here, she even wrapped it according to you."

"You say she like it still wasn't you?" Lilia sensed the disassociation with roommate she fell heavily for.

Your head shook, "I know that she wasn't me. I would've never made anything in bed that easy." Your smile was still the same though. Even if the eyes with it were full of contained wickedness and chaos. "Go on, pretty girl. Open it."

Her cheeks heated under your prominent gaze. You're right, you wouldn't have made sex easy. As she pulled out the white and yellow paper, she couldn't help to think of how the age gap has shifted. You were millenniums before her. She wasn't even close to one thousand. Her hands touched something cool. Grasping around it and pulling it up.

It was a ceramic card holder. The details being all so familiar to the witch. They were the same ones she painted long ago by her own hand. It was almost replicas of each card lining around the sides. But the cover was her most favorite part, the big queen of cups stared up at her. Except the difference was the color in curls. They weren't red and young like how Lilia's was, these were peppered like hers now. Like the face you had met.

"You knew?" Her eyes leaped to yours as her fingers couldn't help to take in every inch of texture.

Your head nodded slowly, "I always had an inkling I was missing something but I wasn't ever going to piece together the truth. And it was the amount of attention the card. I figured one plus one equals two... do you like it?"

"Baby I love it. Thank you." She whispered so gently. This time she leaned in. Her wised smile pressing to your goofy one. It felt natural already and made all the chaos you hold disappear into a void of knowledge.

She was someone you could get used to.

[storyscribeforthesentiment]

smoke + shadows

Summary: Marie gets kidnapped + Bruce does everything in his power to find her.

Pairing: Batman/Bruce Wayne x f! original character

Word count: 11k

Chapter List

The soft glow of morning filtered through the massive windows of Wayne Manor, casting golden streaks across the sprawling bedroom. The air smelled like clean linen and Bruce—the warmth of his skin, the faint scent of cedar and something undeniably him.

Marie lay nestled against his chest, her fingers absently tracing patterns over his bare skin. His arm was draped around her, holding her close, as if even in sleep, he refused to let her go.

The room itself was breathtaking. High, vaulted ceilings stretched above them, dark wooden beams adding to the rich, old-world charm. The massive four-poster bed they lay in was draped with sheets softer than anything Marie had ever slept on, the deep navy comforter a stark contrast to the crisp white pillows.

A fireplace sat along the far wall, the stone mantle adorned with a few personal items—a watch, a book Bruce had been meaning to read, a small, framed photograph of his parents, and a Polaroid of Marie. It wasn’t anything staged or glamorous. Just a simple snapshot—Marie laughing, slightly out of focus, her blonde hair a mess, her eyes full of mischief. She’d taken it herself, playing around with one of Bruce’s old cameras, and he had kept it, right there among the things that mattered most.

Despite its size, the room felt intimate, wrapped in the quiet warmth of morning.

She sighed contentedly, pressing a lazy kiss against his collarbone. “I like this,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

Bruce’s lips curved against her hair. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement, his voice rough from the morning. “Me too.”

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze—those impossibly blue eyes, still heavy with sleep but filled with something softer, something reserved just for her. She kissed him then, slow and lingering, savoring the way he melted into it.

His fingers skimmed down her spine, sending a shiver through her as he deepened the kiss. It was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world.

Then—

Bruce sucked in a sharp breath, his body tensing beneath her. A quiet groan slipped past his lips.

Marie pulled back immediately, concern flashing in her eyes. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, shifting slightly beneath her.

Her gaze narrowed. “Bruce.”

He sighed, knowing he was caught. “It’s nothing serious,” he admitted. “Just a… minor disagreement with a mobster and a steel pipe last night.”

Marie propped herself up on her elbow, gently running her hand over his ribs, her fingers ghosting over the tender spot that made him wince. “Minor, huh?”

Bruce smirked. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not the flex you think it is.” She gave him a pointed look before pressing a feather-light kiss to the injury. “You work yourself too hard.”

His hand slid into her hair, tugging her gaze back to his. “And you don’t?”

Marie huffed, knowing he wasn’t wrong.

“You’re out there every night,” she murmured, her fingertips trailing along his jaw. “And still, you’re here. You take care of this city in ways no one else ever could. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

Bruce’s expression softened, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You love everything about me.” His voice was teasing, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the playfulness.

Marie rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. “Almost everything.”

Bruce hummed. “I’m just the night shift. You deal with Gotham all the time. I think that means you do more than me.”

Marie snorted. “Oh, please. You’re out there getting into fights with steel pipes. I just shuffle through case files and question guys who think they’re smarter than me.”

He smirked, tracing his fingers along her arm. “I know better than to try that.”

“Smart man,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss him again.

Bruce pulled her closer, his lips moving against hers with an urgency that made her stomach flip. She could stay like this forever, tangled up in him, in the warmth of the sheets and the way he made her feel like the safest place in Gotham was right here.

But reality was waiting.

Marie groaned as she reluctantly pulled away. “I have to get ready. My shift starts soon.”

Bruce exhaled dramatically, rolling onto his back, one arm still lazily draped over her waist. “I don’t like that.”

“Yeah, well, neither do I.” She kissed his cheek before slipping out of bed, stretching as she padded across the room.

Bruce watched her, his gaze dark and lazy with admiration.

Marie disappeared into his massive bathroom, flicking on the light. The space was unnecessarily large, all sleek marble and glass, with a shower big enough to fit five people.

She turned on the sink, reaching for her toothbrush—

And then Bruce was behind her.

His arms wrapped around her waist, his lips brushing against the curve of her neck.

Marie sighed, tilting her head to the side as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss against her skin. “Bruce,” she warned, but there was no real conviction in it.

“You sure you have to go in?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. His hands slid over her hips, pulling her back against him.

She swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the sink. “Mmm-hmm.”

Bruce kissed her again, just below her ear, and her resolve wavered.

“You could stay,” he suggested, his lips skimming over her shoulder. “Call in sick. Say you’re dealing with a personal emergency.”

Marie met his gaze in the mirror, arching a brow. “And what’s the emergency?”

Bruce smirked, his fingers trailing beneath the hem of her shirt. “Me.”

Marie laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “You are so damn cocky.”

Bruce just grinned, dipping down to steal another kiss. “You love that too.”

She sighed against his lips, her fingers curling into his hair. God, she really did.

But she was already running late.

With monumental effort, she pulled away, pressing one last lingering kiss to his lips before stepping out of his grasp. “I really do have to go.”

Bruce sighed, watching her with an almost amused resignation. “Fine. But I’m picking you up later.”

Marie smirked, grabbing her detective’s badge off the counter. “We’ll see about that, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce just watched her go, shaking his head as she disappeared out the door.

Yeah. He was definitely picking her up later.

///

The Gotham City Police Department was already alive with chaos by the time Marie stepped into the precinct, the scent of burnt coffee and cheap cologne lingering in the air. Phones rang, detectives shouted across desks, and officers moved with purpose—a usual morning at the GCPD.

Marie adjusted her badge, pushing back the lingering warmth of Bruce’s touch still ghosting over her skin. She’d barely sat down at her desk when Gordon’s gruff voice called from his office.

“Manning. My office.”

Sighing, she grabbed her notepad and headed inside, closing the door behind her.

Gordon stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, glasses perched on his nose as he rubbed his temple. A half-empty cup of coffee sat next to a thick file with a red URGENT stamp across it. Marie knew that look. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

“Black Mask escaped from Blackgate last night,” he said without preamble, looking up at her.

Marie felt her stomach drop. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Gordon muttered. “Security footage is useless. Looks like he had inside help—cameras were disabled before he even made it out of his cell. He killed three guards on the way out, execution-style. Quick, efficient. No hesitation.”

Marie clenched her jaw. “That’s his M.O.”

“Exactly.” Gordon opened the file, flipping through grainy surveillance photos. “Word on the street is he’s already making moves, but we don’t know what. No one's seen him, no one's talking—except one guy.”

He slid a paper toward her—a mugshot of a wiry man with hollowed-out cheeks and a scar cutting through his eyebrow.

“Charlie Vitti,” Gordon continued. “Low-level weapons dealer. He’s got ties to Black Mask’s operation but never had enough clout to make himself useful. A couple of our guys picked him up last night on an unrelated charge—some bar fight over in the East End. He’s in holding, but he’s spooked. Real spooked. Said Black Mask is planning something big, but he won’t talk to just anyone.”

Marie exhaled sharply. “You want me to handle it?”

“I want you to get him to talk,” Gordon corrected. “And I’m not sending you alone.”

Marie arched a brow. “Who’s my babysitter?”

“Bullock.”

She blinked. “Bullock?”

Gordon sighed, anticipating her reaction. “Look, I know you two haven’t worked a case together before, but he knows the East End. Knows how to talk to guys like Vitti. You’ll need that.”

Marie leaned back against the chair, crossing her arms. “Bullock knows how to talk to guys like Vitti, or he knows how to bribe them into spilling?”

Gordon smirked. “A little of both.”

Marie huffed, shaking her head. She liked Bullock well enough—they had a joking, somewhat sarcastic rapport around the precinct—but she also knew he had a reputation for being lazy. He’d been around the block, sure, but he wasn’t exactly known for his work ethic.

“Fine,” she said, standing. “But if he makes me do all the paperwork, I’m making him buy me lunch.”

Gordon chuckled. “Take it up with him. In the meantime, I want you wired for this. Black Mask is unpredictable. If he really is planning something, I don’t want you walking in blind.”

He reached into his desk, pulling out a small earpiece and an extra radio. “Keep the earpiece in so we can track you. If things go south, I want to know about it immediately.”

Marie took the devices, slipping the earpiece into her pocket. “Got it.”

Gordon’s expression softened slightly, though his voice remained firm. “I mean it, Manning. Be careful. Black Mask isn’t like the other scumbags we deal with. He doesn’t just kill—he enjoys it. If Vitti knows something, it means Black Mask is getting reckless. That makes him even more dangerous.”

Marie nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

Gordon studied her for a moment before nodding. “Good. Now get moving.”

She left his office and headed back to her desk to grab what she needed. As she clipped her badge onto her belt and checked her sidearm, her phone buzzed.

She nodded and left the office, heading back to her desk to prepare. As she gathered her notes and checked her sidearm, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Bruce.

Miss you already, lieutenant.

Marie felt a grin tug at her lips.

She was quickly pulled out of it when Bullock approached her desk, chewing loudly as he shoved the last bite of a burger into his mouth.

“You ready, Manning?” he asked, wiping his hands on his coat.

Marie sighed, slipping her phone into her pocket. “Ready as ever.”

///

The East End was its usual brand of bleak—narrow streets lined with crumbling brick buildings, neon lights flickering overhead, the stench of cigarettes and stale beer lingering in the cold night air. The city’s filth seeped into the cracks here, pooling in the alleyways like oil slicks. Even the streetlights did little to break the overwhelming darkness.

Marie and Bullock moved through it with purpose, their breath misting in the chill. They had spent the last hour chasing leads on Zitti, one of Black Mask’s known associates, but the man was proving impossible to pin down.

"Well, this is a damn ghost hunt," Bullock grumbled, adjusting his coat. "Been to three different dives, and all we got was a bartender tellin’ us Zitti skipped town."

Marie tightened her grip on the radio in her hand. “No way in hell he skipped town,” she said, eyes scanning the dimly lit alley ahead. "Black Mask just got loose. Zitti’s not running—he’s hiding."

Bullock let out a tired groan. “I swear to God, if this is another dead end, I’m gonna—”

“Complain? Yeah, I figured.” Marie shot him a smirk.

They stopped in front of a run-down convenience store, the kind that never closed, where cashiers worked behind bulletproof glass and half the stock was expired. Marie pulled out her notepad, checking over the last tip they got—a supposed Zitti sighting in the alley behind the shop.

“Alright,” she muttered, shoving the notepad back in her pocket. “Let’s try back there.”

They slipped into the alley, the space between buildings narrowing to a grimy passage filled with dumpsters and discarded needles. A single flickering light buzzed overhead, barely cutting through the darkness. The farther they walked, the more Marie’s instincts itched.

Something felt off.

Too quiet. No distant city hum, no muffled music from the club down the street. Just eerie silence.

Marie’s fingers brushed against her holster as she turned to Bullock. “This feels—”

Suddenly, a sharp crack split the air.

Bullock let out a grunt before his body crumpled to the ground.

Marie barely had time to process it before something—someone—slammed into her from behind with bone-crushing force.

The air whooshed from her lungs as she was thrown forward, hitting the ground hard. The rough concrete scraped against her cheek, the sharp impact rattling through her ribs and leaving her momentarily stunned. A jolt of pain shot through her hip where she landed wrong, but she had no time to focus on it before hands—strong, unrelenting hands—latched onto her arms.

Her instincts took over—she fought with everything she had.

Marie twisted violently, trying to wrench herself free, but her attacker was too strong. She kicked back, the heel of her boot connecting with something solid—a shin? A knee? Someone grunted in pain, but another set of hands seized her ankles, dragging her across the pavement.

No. No, no, no.

She threw an elbow, aiming for where she thought their ribs would be, but her strike was wild, off-balance. A curse rang out, followed immediately by a crushing blow to the side of her head.

A burst of white-hot pain exploded in her skull, her vision going black for a split second. Disorienting. Blinding.

Her body swayed, knees buckling beneath her as she felt herself sag against her captor’s grip.

Stay awake. Stay awake.

The world spun. Her ears rang. Then—rough fabric slid over her head.

A bag.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

Marie gasped, her breath suddenly hot and stifling inside the thick material. Her pulse thundered against her ribs, her breaths turning shallow as panic clawed at her chest. She tried to steady herself, to focus, but the overwhelming sensation of blindness and suffocation sent adrenaline surging through her system.

Someone yanked her arms behind her back, wrists wrenched together. Plastic zip ties cinched tight around them with a sharp zip, biting into her skin.

“Bullock—” she tried to say, but her voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Somewhere close by, she heard a groan. Still alive. But unconscious. He wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

She was alone.

Marie thrashed, kicking wildly, twisting, struggling with everything she had left. But it didn’t matter.

Her captors barely even slowed.

She was lifted off the ground like she weighed nothing, hoisted up and carried—dragged—through a doorway. The hinges shrieked, the air shifting from the biting cold of the alley to something damp and stale. The distinct scent of rotting wood, oil, and rust filled her nose.

Then—the metallic clunk of a car door swinging open.

Her stomach dropped.

“No—NO!” She bucked, trying to dig her heels into the floor, to get any kind of leverage, but a firm shove sent her sprawling forward.

She landed hard, cold leather pressing against her cheek.

The seat beneath her felt old, cracked. The smell of cigarettes and sweat filled the enclosed space, thick and suffocating. The car dipped slightly as more weight shifted inside.

Her wrists strained uselessly against the zip ties. Her heart pounded as her brain screamed at her to move, fight, do something—but before she could, the door beside her slammed shut with a heavy, final thud.

Then, a low, amused chuckle.

The engine roared to life.

The tires screeched against the pavement.

And Marie was gone.

///

The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, each second a punch to Gordon’s gut. Two hours. Two hours since Manning and Bullock had checked in. Two hours of radio silence. Two hours for things to go terribly wrong.

He leaned forward in his chair, his jaw tight as he reached for Marie’s radio one more time.

"Manning. Bullock. Status update."

Nothing. Just static.

His unease turned into something worse. Something sharp and ugly. He grabbed his desk phone and tried Marie’s personal cell.

Straight to voicemail.

“Dammit.” He slammed the receiver down. “Fuck.”

The feeling in his gut curdled into certainty—something was wrong.

Gordon shoved out of his chair and stormed into the bullpen, his voice cutting through the steady hum of chatter and ringing phones.

“Alright, listen up!”

The precinct froze. Officers, detectives, even the administrative staff—all eyes snapped to him.

“Manning and Bullock have gone dark. Last known location, East End. I want every available unit out there looking for them. Now.”

A storm of movement followed. Officers grabbed their gear, radios buzzed with deployment orders, but it wasn’t enough. Not for this.

Gordon exhaled sharply and stepped back into his office, his pulse hammering.

He needed to let Bruce know.

Not Batman—Bruce.

Because Bruce Wayne was more than just Gotham’s billionaire. He was Batman, the one man who could find her faster than anyone else. But more than that—he was in love with Marie. And if something had happened to her, if she was truly gone…

Gordon didn’t know how Bruce would take it.

His thumb hovered over his contacts list for only a second before he made his decision.

He called Bruce Wayne.

The phone rang twice before Bruce answered. “Gordon?” His voice sounded confused. Gordon never called his personal phone, not once in all the months since he’d figured out the truth.

Gordon’s grip tightened. “This isn’t official business.” His voice came out grim. “It’s personal.”

There was brief paused before Bruce’s voice shifted. “What happened?”

“It’s Marie. She’s missing.”

Gordon was met with complete, utter silence. The kind that made his spine go rigid, because he knew that the moment Bruce inhaled sharply, the moment his breath stilled, that he’d just shattered his world.

“When?” Bruce’s voice was low, dangerous.

“Two hours ago.” Gordon tried to keep his voice even. “She and Bullock were looking for a lead in the East End. Charles Zitti. I haven’t heard from them since. No radio, no cell, nothing.”

Bruce was already moving. Gordon could hear it—the shuffle of footsteps, the rustle of fabric. Could picture him already out of his chair, already storming through the halls of Wayne Manor.

“Two fucking hours?” Bruce’s voice was sharp, edged with something lethal.

“I wasn’t sure if they’d gone silent on purpose—”

Bruce cut him off, “I’m on my way.” and the line went dead.

As soon as he was off the phone, Bruce moved like a man possessed. He tore through the halls of Wayne Manor, the walls narrowing around him, his lungs burning.

Alfred barely had time to step out of the study before Bruce stormed past.

“Sir?”

Bruce’s voice was hoarse. “She’s missing.”

Alfred’s expression darkened. No further explanation was needed.

Bruce descended into the cave at a dead sprint.

He didn’t know who had taken her. Didn’t know why. Didn’t care. All he knew was that she was gone.

He yanked on the suit with practiced efficiency, but it felt different this time. This wasn’t just another mission. Another criminal to bring to justice.

This was Marie.

His hands trembled as he pulled the cowl over his face.

There was no time for hesitation.

With a growl of frustration, he vaulted into the Batmobile, the engine roaring to life as he shot out of the Batcave like a bullet. The tires screeched against the damp stone, the force of his acceleration pressing him into the seat, but he barely noticed.

Gotham streaked past in a blur of neon and darkness, but none of it registered. His mind was consumed with one singular, all-encompassing thought—find her.

The Gotham City Police Department was already drowning in chaos when he arrived. Phones shrieked through the air, overlapping in a symphony of urgency. Officers darted back and forth, their voices rising over one another, papers flying between frantic hands. The scent of burnt coffee, sweat, and cigarette smoke clung to the walls, mixing with the metallic sting of tension. It was thick enough to suffocate.

Then, the front doors slammed open with a force that made the hinges shriek.

A gust of cold air swept inside, snuffing out every conversation in an instant.

Batman strode in, a walking nightmare of black armor and fury, his silhouette a dark stain against the fluorescent lights. Conversations died in throats. The rustling of papers and the tapping of keyboards stuttered into silence. He had never entered the GCPD like this before—never so openly, never in the merciless exposure of bright overhead lights where every officer, every detective, every damn bureaucrat could see him.

But none of that mattered.

His steps were slow, deliberate, each heavy thud against the tile carrying the weight of a warning. Cops shifted instinctively, stepping back, forming an unspoken path without even realizing they were doing it. Some gripped their holsters on reflex before thinking better of it. Others, the ones who had seen him work, knew better than to move at all.

He didn’t acknowledge them. He cut through the room like a blade through flesh, his presence coiling around the precinct like a noose tightening by the second.

Near his office, Gordon stood in tense conversation with a detective, his voice low and urgent. Then, he looked up. His breath hitched.

"Let’s not—" Gordon started, but his voice wavered. "Let’s calm—"

Then, the front doors burst open again.

This time, the silence didn’t just return—it imploded.

Bullock staggered inside, his usually disheveled coat now a mess of blood and grime, his face slick with red that dripped onto his collar. His breath rattled in his chest, coming in short, gasping wheezes, his body swaying like he was barely keeping himself upright.

The room detonated with noise—officers surging forward, exclamations of shock, radio static crackling in fits and bursts. Someone called for a medic. A dispatcher cursed into their headset. But through it all, Batman was already moving.

Gordon reached him first, gripping Bullock’s arms and steadying him as his knees nearly buckled.

"Where is Manning?" Gordon’s voice was tight, urgent.

Bullock blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. His pupils were dilated, his expression dazed, but the sheer frustration in his voice burned through the haze.

"I—I don’t know." His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "We were out there looking for Zitti, following leads, and then—bam. Someone fucking blindsided me. Next thing I know, I wake up on the damn pavement, and she’s gone." His breath came ragged, like he was choking on his own words. "I don’t—I don’t remember a damn thing."

Gordon inhaled sharply through his nose, his hands curling into fists.

Bullock slammed his own fist down onto the counter, making a nearby officer jump. "I should’ve—shit!" His voice cracked. "I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve done something!"

The guilt was already devouring him alive.

Through it all, Batman didn’t move.

Not a flinch. Not a shift in stance. Not a single damn muscle.

But the air around him was suffocating.

His gloved fists clenched at his sides, the leather groaning under the strain of his grip. A shadow darker than the suit itself passed over his expression, something lethal, something barely contained.

Bullock turned to him, desperation leaking into his voice. "You gotta find her."

Batman’s head lifted slightly, and for a second, Bullock almost wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

The next moment—

He was gone.

No sound, no warning. Just a sudden absence, like a phantom had vanished into the night.

The only thing left in his wake was the sharp swing of the precinct doors and the lingering, spine-chilling certainty that whatever poor bastard had taken Marie Manning was about to learn what true fear felt like.

///

The Batmobile tore through the streets like a phantom in the night, its engine a guttural roar that sent shivers down Gotham’s spine. Rain lashed against the windshield, blurring the city into streaks of neon and shadow, but Batman’s grip on the wheel was ironclad. His pulse pounded like war drums in his ears, his mind locked onto a single objective—find her.

He had never felt this way before.

Not when the Joker had poisoned the reservoir. Not when Bane had broken his body.

This was different. This was her.

Marie.

And she was out there somewhere. Alone. Afraid. Hurting.

His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as he swerved onto a side street, tires shrieking. He should have been thinking strategically—staying calculated, detached—but every second that passed without a lead chipped away at his restraint. The city was a vast, rotting corpse, and he was tearing it apart limb by limb, determined to find the infection at its core.

Tonight, Gotham was going to feel his wrath. And he didn’t waste time on subtlety.

His first target was Theo "Fangs" DiLuca, a low-level enforcer with ties to every major crime syndicate in the East End. He found him inside a seedy dive bar off Grant Avenue, leaning against the counter, laughing over a drink. The laughter died the moment the door slammed open, ripped off its hinges.

The room plunged into silence.

Batman’s shadow swallowed the dim bar whole as he strode forward.

Without breaking stride, he reached out and ripped Freddy from his stool, sending his beer bottle shattering across the floor. Before the man could scream, Batman drove him into the wall, the plaster cracking beneath the impact.

The bartender ducked. A few patrons scrambled for the exit. No one tried to help.

Freddy gasped, his fingers clawing at the fist locked around his throat.

“Where is she?” Batman’s voice was a growl, low and deadly.

“W—what?” Freddy choked out, eyes bulging.

Batman slammed him into the wall again. Harder.

“WHERE?”

“I—I don’t know, I swear—!”

Batman didn’t have time for lies. He let Freddy drop to the floor, only to deliver a brutal kick to his ribs that sent him sprawling.

“You have three seconds to be useful.” Batman loomed over him, his presence suffocating, his patience gone.

Freddy coughed, spitting blood onto the floor. “Shit—okay, okay—Black Mask’s been making moves in the East End. Had some of his guys sniffin’ around earlier—hired muscle. He—he’s been looking for information on Batman. On—on anyone connected to him.”

The world narrowed. She was taken because of him. Because of her connections with Batman. The thought alone killed Bruce.

Batman shook the thought from his head and grabbed Theo by the collar, yanking him up. “Where’s his base?”

“I—I don’t know! He moves around too much, but—” Freddy coughed again, wheezing. “He’s got warehouses. All over. He—he likes abandoned places—places no one would think twice about. Could be the docks, the Narrows—”

Batman didn’t wait for him to finish.

He spun on his heel, already reaching for his grapple. The moment he was airborne, disappearing into the night, the entire bar exhaled as if they’d been suffocating under his presence.

He was going to find Black Mask. And when he did, God help him.

///

Marie’s head pounded before she even opened her eyes.

It started as a dull, throbbing ache in the back of her skull, radiating outward like splintering glass. Then came the sharp sting of her split lip, the deep, bone-deep bruising in her ribs from—what? A punch? A kick? She couldn’t remember. The details were murky, lost in the haze of unconsciousness.

Her wrists burned. The zip ties bit into her skin, cutting off circulation, and the chair beneath her was rickety, the kind of cheap metal folding chair you’d find in a rundown community center—only this one was bolted to the floor.

She was trapped.

And she wasn’t alone.

A slow, measured pair of footsteps echoed through the warehouse, each step deliberate, predatory.

Black Mask.

“Well, well,” Roman Sionis’s voice slid through the air like oil, thick and slick and wrong. His shoes clicked against the concrete, expensive and out of place in a place like this. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Marie’s head lolled slightly, her vision adjusting to the dim, flickering light overhead. The first thing she saw was the mask—a grinning, blackened skull twisted into something monstrous under the shadows. The second thing she noticed was the smell.

Cigars. Gunpowder. Blood.

It clung to the air, heavy and suffocating.

She swallowed, forcing her spine to straighten despite the restraints. “Wish I could say it’s nice to see you.”

Black Mask chuckled, his broad shoulders rolling with amusement. “Feisty. I like that.”

He crouched beside her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him. He smelled like expensive cologne and violence, a scent so sickeningly familiar in Gotham’s underworld that it almost made her gag.

“You know,” he mused, tilting his head, “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to wake up at all.”

Marie smirked despite the pain slicing through her lip. “Sorry to disappoint.”

His amusement flickered, darkened.

“Oh, you haven’t disappointed me yet, baby girl.” He reached out, brushing a gloved finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “But you will—if you don’t start talking.”

Marie didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

She let her gaze drift past him, scanning the room instead. It was a warehouse, all right—concrete floors slick with oil, rusted chains hanging from the ceiling, wooden crates stacked in uneven piles. The air was damp and cold, the sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance.

More importantly, she wasn’t alone with him.

Two guards stood by the entrance, both armed—one with a pistol holstered at his hip, the other cradling a rifle like a security blanket. A workbench sat against the far wall, scattered with tools—pliers, a hammer, something that looked like a blowtorch.

Her stomach twisted.

She needed to get out of here.

Black Mask let out a slow exhale, the leather of his gloves creaking as he flexed his fingers. “I know you’ve worked with Batman before. You were all over the Red Lotus case together, playing detective and vigilante.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “You two seemed like quite the dynamic duo. Chasing down leads. Cracking the case together. Taking down Maroni.”

Marie said nothing.

She kept her expression blank, her breathing even, but her eyes never left that workbench. If she could get loose—if she could just get her hands on something—

Black Mask grabbed her jaw suddenly, forcing her gaze back to him. His fingers were too tight, his grip possessive, like he was testing her, seeing how far he could push before she broke.

“So here’s the deal,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His touch was deceptively gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality she knew lurked just beneath the surface. “You tell me who he is, and I let you walk out of here with your pretty little face intact.”

Marie stared at him, unreadable.

Then—she smiled.

Not a warm smile. Not a real one. It was something colder. Meaner.

“You really think I know who he is?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “You think Batman—of all people—would trust a cop with that information?” She licked the blood from her lip and smirked. “I hate to break it to you, but I’ve never even seen his face.”

Black Mask was quiet for a moment.

Then—CRACK.

His backhand hit her hard, snapping her head to the side.

White-hot pain exploded through her skull, her teeth cutting into the inside of her cheek. Her ears rang. Her vision blurred at the edges, black creeping in like ink on water.

Before she could recover, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back.

Her throat was exposed now, vulnerable, and he hovered inches away, studying her like a wolf deciding how much of the carcass to pick apart first.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, his fingers tightening.

Marie’s breath came out ragged, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “And you’re a pathetic little man who thinks hiding behind a mask makes you powerful.”

A mistake.

The room tilted violently as his fist slammed into her ribs, the force of it knocking the air from her lungs. The pain was immediate, sharp and suffocating, and before she could even inhale, he drove his knee into her stomach.

She choked.

The zip ties cut deeper into her wrists as her body jerked against the chair.

Black Mask stood back, rolling his shoulders like he had just finished a warm-up round.

“See, I really hate liars.” He gestured to one of the guards. “Bring me the knife.”

A flicker of panic jolted through Marie’s chest.

The knife.

She forced herself to stay calm, to think.

The workbench. The tools. The guards. The layout. She took it all in, cataloging every possible weapon, every possible weakness.

Black Mask took the knife from his goon without breaking eye contact with her.

The blade gleamed under the flickering warehouse lights, long and wickedly sharp. He turned it over in his hands, testing its weight, before dragging the flat of it along Marie’s cheek—slow, deliberate, teasing.

“I’ll give you one more chance, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice almost affectionate. “Who. Is. Batman?”

Marie clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of flinching. “Go fuck yourself.”

Black Mask exhaled through his nose, his patience snapping.

“Wrong answer.”

The knife pressed against her collarbone, just enough to bite into her skin. A slow, stinging line of blood beaded at the edge of the blade, warm against her already bruised flesh.

But Marie didn’t give him a reaction.

She focused instead on the sounds beyond the warehouse—the distant hum of Gotham’s streets, the faint echo of a passing siren. Every second that passed meant Bruce was getting closer.

He was coming. He had to be.

Black Mask clicked his tongue in disappointment. “You’re really not making this easy.”

Then—THWACK.

His fist drove into her ribs again, harder this time. The pain was immediate, white-hot, stealing what little breath she had left.

Marie gasped, her body jerking violently against the restraints.

“Still nothing?” he mused. “Shame.”

Another punch. This time, her vision spun.

She tasted blood.

“Y’know,” he went on conversationally, brushing his knuckles against her jaw, “I don’t mind taking my time. I could play with you all night.” He leaned in, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “I’d actually like that.”

Marie’s stomach churned, but she forced herself to keep breathing.

Keep fighting.

Her wrists burned against the zip ties as she flexed her fingers, testing for any weakness. There had to be something—

Black Mask sighed, irritated. “You’re getting boring now.”

And then—

A sharp, blinding crack against her skull.

The world tilted.

Pain flared through her head like a gunshot, her vision going dark at the edges.

Her body sagged against the chair, her thoughts slowing, scattering like sand slipping through her fingers.

She barely felt it when Black Mask grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to inspect her.

“Such a shame,” he murmured.

Marie tried to stay conscious, tried to fight against the darkness swallowing her whole.

But as her vision faded, her last thought was simple.

Bruce will find me.

And she knew—

He’ll bring hell with him.

///

Batman moved through Gotham’s underbelly like a relentless force, his presence felt long before he stepped into the shadows of the city’s most dangerous corners. Every den of criminals, every hidden safe house, every alleyway where Gotham’s worst whispered their secrets—he pursued them all with unwavering determination.

His fists struck with precision. He didn’t break bones needlessly, but he left a lasting message in every blow. A dislocated shoulder, a bruised rib, a sharp strike to the gut that left his targets gasping for air—painful reminders of his wrath, but nothing they wouldn’t recover from.

Questions were asked only once. If an answer wasn’t given, he tightened his grip, pressed a little harder, made them feel the weight of their silence. He never needed to go further. Fear did most of the work for him.

By the time the city clock struck midnight, he had torn through three more hideouts, leaving behind a wake of groaning criminals too shaken to think about lying. There was no wasted movement, no hesitation—only purpose. Tonight, there was no room for patience.

Every lead brought him closer.

But not close enough.

The fourth informant barely had time to register the looming shadow before Batman had him pinned against a rusted chain-link fence, steel rattling violently under the force. The man wheezed, his face a contorted mask of terror as a gloved hand clamped down over his throat.

“Where is Black Mask?” Batman’s voice was a guttural snarl, low and menacing.

The man squirmed, his fingers clawing at the powerful grip crushing his windpipe. “Please—I don’t—”

Batman twisted the man’s arm back at a brutal angle.

“Where?!” Batman barked, his patience long gone.

The man yelled out, his body shaking violently. “I—I swear, I don’t know! Black Mask’s been off the grid for weeks—no one’s seen him! I swear on my mother, I don’t—”

Batman let go, disgust curling his lip as the man crumpled to the ground, clutching his dislocated arm. He wasn’t lying. He was too much of a coward to lie under pressure like this.

Batman turned away, his mind a whirlwind of fury and desperation.

Then his comm crackled to life.

“Batman.” Gordon’s voice was sharp, urgent. “We found Zitti.”

Batman didn’t waste a second.

He was already on his way to the station.

///

By the time Batman reached the precinct, the air was thick with tension. Officers moved in hurried strides, phones rang incessantly, and Gordon was waiting for him just inside the entrance, his face set in a grim expression.

“He’s in holding,” Gordon said, leading Batman through the station, their boots heavy against the tiled floor. “We picked him up outside a club on Grant Street. He knows something—he has to. He’s been in Black Mask’s orbit for years.”

Batman said nothing. He didn’t need to. The way his shoulders tensed, the way his jaw locked, the way his cape flared out behind him like an omen of death—it all spoke volumes.

As they neared the holding cells, Batman didn’t even slow his pace.

“Batman—wait,” Gordon started.

Too late.

The door to Zitti’s holding cell slammed open so hard that the hinges nearly snapped.

Zitti barely had time to blink before Batman grabbed him by the collar and hurled him against the concrete wall with a sickening crack. The force of the impact rattled the glass window behind them, sending fractures through it.

Zitti groaned, his head snapping back against the stone, dazed from the sheer force. His hands flew up defensively as Batman loomed over him like a specter from his worst nightmares.

“I don’t—”

Batman’s fist slammed into his gut.

Zitti gagged, doubling over as the air was driven from his lungs. His knees buckled, but Batman didn’t let him fall. He hauled him back up, shoving him hard against the wall again.

“You know where she is.” Batman’s voice was quieter this time, which somehow made it worse.

Zitti coughed violently, his breath ragged. “I swear—I don’t—”

Batman grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him clear off the ground, slamming him into the wall again, the impact shaking the entire cell.

The fear in Zitti’s eyes sharpened into something primal.

Batman leaned in, his voice lethal. “Tell me where Black Mask is holding her.”

Zitti swallowed hard, his pupils blown wide with panic. “Warehouse—” he gasped. “Dockside—by the old shipyard—”

Batman let go.

Zitti crumpled to the floor, coughing and wheezing.

Gordon, who had been watching silently, stepped forward. “We’ll deploy all officers—”

Batman was already turning.

“No,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll get there first.”

He strode out of the holding cell without another word.

Gordon exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose before barking orders to the nearest officers.

“Suit up! We’re moving out! Now! Send all available units to the old shipyard!”

Red and blue lights flooded the night as the GCPD mobilized, but Batman was already ahead of them.

He would reach her first.

He had to.

The city blurred in a haze of lights and shadows as he rocketed down the streets, the familiar landscape of Gotham flashing past in a whirl of urgency. His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles white, his thoughts fixed solely on the warehouse, on Marie. His mind was nothing but a singular, destructive focus now.

He didn’t care about the risks. He didn’t care about anything except getting to her.

His heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he wove through Gotham’s maze of streets. Each turn was calculated, each movement a flawless execution. He didn’t notice the speed, didn’t care about the way the wind howled around him or the sharp hum of the Batmobile’s engines. All that mattered was getting to that damn warehouse before Black Mask could do anything else to Marie.

Gotham was about to burn, and they were all standing at the edge of the fire.

///

Pain.

It was the first thing Marie felt as she drifted back to consciousness, a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed behind her eyes and radiated through every inch of her battered body. Each breath sent a sharp sting through her ribs, her limbs felt like lead, and the coppery tang of blood coated her tongue.

Slowly, she forced her heavy eyelids open.

The warehouse swam into view under the dim, flickering glow of an overhead bulb. The space around her was cold and lifeless—stained concrete floors, steel support beams looming overhead, and the acrid scent of old oil and damp wood filling her nose. Her arms were yanked back, wrists bound tight with thick rope, the fibers digging into her torn skin. Her ankles were the same, tied so cruelly that her circulation had started to fade, her feet tingling with pins and needles.

Black Mask was gone.

Marie’s pulse picked up. He wouldn’t be gone for long.

She had to move.

Forcing herself to breathe past the pain, she scanned her surroundings. A rusted metal table sat against the wall, littered with tools, empty liquor bottles, and a scattering of cigarette butts. A stack of wooden crates was pushed into the farthest corner, and high above—

A window.

Her pulse pounded harder. It was small, grimy, but open just enough that she could slip through if she could reach it.

But first, the ropes.

She twisted her wrists, biting her cheek as the rough fibers scraped deeper into her skin. Come on. Think.

Her gaze landed on the table. A knife. Rusted, but sharp. If she could just get to it—

Marie shifted, forcing herself to inch her legs toward the table. She stretched, using what little movement she had to push at one of the table’s legs with her foot. The metal screeched against the floor. Her stomach clenched. Move, damn it.

One last desperate shove—

The knife clattered to the floor.

Her pulse roared as she twisted her body, inching closer, the pain screaming through her battered muscles. She stretched, fingertips grazing the handle—got it.

Her hands were shaky as she maneuvered the blade against the rope, sawing frantically. Each movement sent fiery stings through her wrists, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through.

The rope gave way.

With a sharp gasp, she ripped her hands free, barely registering the sting of her torn skin. Moving fast, she cut at the bindings on her ankles, hissing as blood rushed back into her numb limbs.

She stumbled to her feet, dizziness crashing over her like a wave. The ground tilted, her vision swam.

Not yet. You have to move.

Marie braced herself against the wall, taking a deep, steadying breath before staggering toward the crates. She shoved them into position, stacking them into a makeshift ladder.

Every movement burned, her body screaming in protest. But she climbed.

The window was just within reach.

With the last bit of strength she had, she shoved it open. The cool night air rushed in, sharp against her bruised skin. The distant hum of the city buzzed beyond. Freedom.

But she wasn’t finished yet.

Her gaze flicked back to the table. The cigarette lighter.

Marie’s mind worked fast. The warehouse was old, rotting. The wooden crates, the oil-stained floors—highly flammable.

She grabbed the lighter, flicking it on. A small golden flame danced in the darkness.

Her eyes landed on a pile of discarded cloth, soaked in something greasy and foul.

She held the flame to it.

The fire caught instantly, devouring the fabric, licking hungrily at the wood beneath. It spread fast, leaping from one surface to another, crawling up the walls like a living, breathing beast.

Marie didn’t wait to watch.

She hauled herself through the window, gasping as she tumbled onto the dirt outside. The rough ground scraped against her already raw skin, and her limbs barely held her weight as she pushed herself up.

Her legs faltered.

The world tilted.

Her body was giving out.

Her vision blurred at the edges, the pain consuming her, and just as she felt herself falling—

A roar.

The low, snarling growl of an engine.

Headlights sliced through the darkness, blinding her for a moment. She tried to lift her head, tried to focus—

The Batmobile skidded to a stop, tires kicking up dirt.

Then—he was there.

Batman.

A black shadow, moving fast, cutting through the night with purpose. His cape billowed behind him as he sprinted toward her, his boots pounding against the ground.

“Marie.”

Her name was raw in his throat. A breath, a prayer, a promise.

Her legs buckled.

She felt herself sinking, the ground rising to meet her—

Strong arms caught her just before she hit the dirt.

She was lifted effortlessly, cradled against the solid weight of his chest, the scent of leather and smoke filling her senses.

“Hey, hey—stay with me,” he murmured, his voice low, hoarse. One gloved hand cradled the back of her head, the other holding her so tightly against him, like if he let go, she might disappear.

Marie forced her eyes open, her fingers weakly grasping at his suit. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, but she still managed a faint, battered smile.

“I got out,” she whispered. “I torched the place.”

Batman’s jaw tightened, his eyes scanning her face, his fingers brushing against her bruised cheek so gently, so reverently, it nearly undid her.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, his voice thick with something deeper, something unspoken. “You held on.”

A tear slipped down Marie’s cheek, mixing with the dirt and blood on her skin. “I knew you’d find me.”

His grip tightened. “Always.”

Then, before she could say another word, he kissed her.

It wasn’t desperate, wasn’t hurried. It was steady, firm, grounding. Like he needed to feel her alive, needed to remind himself she was still here, still breathing.

She collapsed into him, her body weak, trembling, every muscle drained of strength. Her fingers, barely able to hold on, curled into the fabric of his suit, gripping as if he were the only thing tethering her to reality.

Batman held her against his chest, his arms unyielding, shielding her from everything—the cold night air, the pain, the world itself. Behind them, the inferno roared, flames devouring the warehouse in a violent, hungry blaze, sending thick, black smoke curling into the night sky like a specter.

His grip on her tightened, just enough to let her know he was there, that she was safe. She shuddered against him, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. His fingers traced soothing circles against her back, a silent promise that it was over.

Then, with infinite care, he lowered his head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her temple. A quiet moment, stolen in the chaos, meant only for them.

Then—sirens.

The piercing wail cut through the night, growing louder as flashing red and blue lights painted the scene in a chaotic glow. Police cruisers skidded to a stop, their tires kicking up dust. Firetrucks roared in behind them, their ladders rising, firefighters already moving to contain the raging blaze. EMTs rushed from their ambulances, their equipment rattling as they moved with practiced urgency.

Gordon was the first to emerge from the swarm, his trench coat whipping around his legs as he took in the scene. His eyes moved from the burning warehouse to the two figures standing just beyond the fire’s reach. He saw the way Batman held Marie, the way she sagged against him, the way his grip on her was as much about support as it was about reassurance.

Gordon exhaled, slow and measured.

“Let’s give them some space,” he murmured to the officers behind him, his voice low but firm.

No one argued.

Batman pressed another soft kiss to her temple, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

And for the first time all night, Marie let herself believe it.

///

The steady beeping of a heart monitor pulled Marie from the depths of unconsciousness. The world around her felt soft, distant, like she was floating between reality and a dream. The scent of antiseptic and clean linen filled her nose, replacing the acrid stench of fire and blood that had clung to her before.

Her body ached, a deep, bone-weary exhaustion settling over her, but the pain was dull now, cushioned by whatever painkillers were coursing through her system.

Blinking against the sterile white light, she let her gaze wander. The hospital room was quiet, the muted hum of machines the only sound. The walls were a pale, impersonal blue, and the IV in her arm tugged slightly as she shifted. A bouquet of fresh flowers sat on the bedside table, their petals delicate, untouched.

And then—

Bruce.

He was seated beside her, in the chair closest to the bed, a book resting open in his hands. His suit jacket was draped over the arm of the chair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the bruises marring his forearms. There was a tension in his posture, a quiet stillness that was different from the way he usually carried himself.

His hair was slightly disheveled, dark circles smudging beneath his eyes, like he hadn’t slept—not really.

Marie stirred, her fingers weakly gripping the blanket draped over her.

Bruce immediately looked up.

The book was forgotten, discarded as he leaned in, his blue eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. His hand found hers, warm and solid, his fingers tracing gentle circles against her skin.

"You're awake," he breathed, relief evident in every syllable.

Marie tried to smile, but her lip was split, the movement sending a dull throb through her face. "So it seems."

Bruce exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath for hours. Without hesitation, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against her knuckles.

She stared at him, stunned by the tenderness of it, the way he held her like she might slip away if he let go.

“How long was I out?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

"A few hours. Doctors said you'd be fine, just needed rest," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her wrist, grounding her.

Marie blinked up at him, a ghost of a smirk playing at her swollen lips. “Hospital, huh? I half expected to wake up in your cave.”

Bruce huffed out something that almost resembled a laugh. "I wanted to," he admitted, his expression softening. "But there were too many officers at the scene. If you disappeared in the Batmobile, it would've raised too many questions."

She let that settle, nodding slightly. It made sense. It was logical. But part of her still wished she had woken up somewhere private, somewhere she didn’t feel so exposed under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Bruce must have sensed her unease because he shifted closer, his other hand reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair from her face.

"You scared the hell out of me," he said quietly.

Marie swallowed, staring at the way his jaw tensed, the way his fingers curled just slightly against hers.

"You saved me," she whispered.

Bruce shook his head. "You saved yourself. You got out, Marie. You lit the place up. By the time I got there, you had already won."

Her chest ached, not from injury, but from the weight of those words. She had fought. She had survived.

But still—

"I knew you'd be there," she murmured.

His lips parted slightly, his expression flickering with something unreadable. Then, without another word, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger there.

Marie sighed, her body relaxing into his touch.

"I'm not leaving," Bruce said, his voice low, steady. "Not until I know you're okay."

She squeezed his hand, holding on tight.

"Then I guess you're stuck with me for a while, Wayne."

His lips curled into a faint, tired smile.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I think I can live with that."

[vvampirelust]

midnight cowboy

warnings: smut, reverse cowgirl, kinda mean!sevika, brief spanking, BIG MAMA (she is a warning.)

this was inspired by JADE’s song, ‘midnight cowboy’

Neon lights glare through the window, illuminating the dark space, and the two figures inside. Flashes of purple and blue casting over their silhouettes. Muffled bass thumps, echoing from the nightlight outside. It’s almost silent other wise, heavy breathing filling the void.

Sevika’s mechanical arm rests behind her head, leaning back on it, her cold grey eyes alert, watching. There’s a smug look on her face, smoke pouring in spirals from her nose as she takes a drag from the blunt between her lips. She tears her eyes from your naked form, down to your hands and grunts when you roughly tighten the harness around her thigh. Saddling her up. “Easy.” She bites.

You simply chuckle in response, knowing fine well she likes when you try to play a little rough.

Sevika’s purplish strap stands tall on her hips, thick and ridged, made to make you feel everything. Your cunt throbs at the sight, thighs squeezing. It suited Sevika perfectly, big and intimidating. Her free hand comes to wrap around it, stroking the thick length up and down. You’re staring hungrily, folds dripping with slick, eager to have Sevika inside you.

Her head tilts, “You gonna get on with it, or what?” She asks gruffly, daringly. Eyes trailing down to the mess between your thighs, demeanour faltering ever so slightly at the sight of your glistening cunt. Sevika hums, patting her thigh, “Come ‘n ride me, gorgeous. Show me what you’re made of.” She challenges through another puff of smoke, settling back against the headboard.

Lip caught between your teeth, you nod dumbly, “Need your cock, Sevika,” you sigh, climbing her eagerly, watching her smirk. You turn around on her lap, straddling her thighs. It takes Sevika by surprise, which doesn’t happen often, having expected you to ride facing her. Now she has a full view of your back, her eyes trailing down the length of you. She admires your curves, the swell of your ass and fuck, your cunt.

Which was winding down on the tip of her strap, coating Sevika’s cock in your sticky juices. She catches on your entrance and you gasp, walls fluttering as you tease yourself.

Sevika’s groan dances with your long moan when you finally sink down on her cock. Feeling lightheaded as you stretch around the size of her, so deep inside your cunt, you can feel her in your throat. Sevika’s groan turns into a dark laugh, flesh hand wiping to snatch the blunt from her lips, tossing it aside. “You really are just fucking nasty, aren’t you, girl?” her words are harsh as she sits up, the movement forcing her cock deeper. You whine, cut off by Sevika’s arm wrapping around your chest, tugging your back flush against her.

“Fuckin’ slut, look at you,” she drawls, mechanical hand finding your waist, running down, freezing against your hot skin. “Fuck, look at these curves. Just move-yeah that’s it. Nice and slow,” Sevika guides you, grip on your waist urging you to grind down on her, hips rolling for her hard eyes to admire.

Your soft moans echo, whimpers slipping out whenever her cock hits those spots inside you that have you lost for breath. “Sevika, please,” you have no idea what you’re pleading for. Sevika simply grunts in response, leaning down to attack your neck with her mouth. Sucking hard enough to leave marks, looking down your body as you continue to rock your hips back against her. You suck in a sharp, deep breath, Sevika watching how your tits move as you heave, perky nipple just begging to be pinched and bitten. So she does, pawing and groping at your tits until you’re whining and squirming on her cock.

You start to grind down harder, faster, desperate for more. More noises slip past your lips, growing louder with each rut of your hips. You want to bounce on her cock, feel her sliding in and out of your soaked pussy. Yet Sevika lays a sharp smack to your thigh, “What did i just say?” she murmurs nipping your skin, “Slow.”

With a whine you sit back on her cock, “I need more,” you punctuate with a hard roll of your hips, the pressure giving Sevika friction to which she groans. “Lemme ride you. Give me more, please. I wanna feel you in my tummy.” You sound pathetic, and it gets Sevika off, wanting to see just how desperate you can get. “Please, Sev-“ You cut yourself off with a whimper as you attempt to bounce on her, feeling her cock shifting deliciously against your fluttering walls. “More,” you sigh quietly, lost in the pleasure.

It’s short lived as you’re suddenly shoved forward onto your hands, Sevika scoffing behind you. “You want more?” She sneers, laying a slap to your ass. “Take it.” You’re looking at her over your shoulder, eyebrows raised. Sevika rolls her eyes, her impatience evident as she gestures to you sitting still on her cock. “Get on with it. Fuck yourself dumb, doll, gimme a good show.”

You start slow, lifting off her cock until only her tip sheathed. Letting Sevika see how well you take her as you sink down to the hilt, curses falling from your lips in whispered whines. Sevika hums her approval, eyes trained on the way you begin bouncing on her cock. Quickening the pace of your thrusts, your head falls back in pleasure. Bracing yourself using her thighs, you pant out little whines and whimpers, feeling her so deep, gliding against your sensitive walls.

“Sevika, fuck!” you cry out, voice strained, “Feels s-so good.” That coil beginning to wind up in your stomach, making you clench and attempt to keep her lodged in your cunt. You can hear Sevika’s heavy breath behind you, clearly affected by watching you ride her. Yet her tone is smug, her voice dropping lower, “Come on. You can do better than that.”

Her hands slide to cup your ass, the contrast of hot and cold sending sparks flying across your body. She spreads you open to her gaze as you start to pick up pace, slamming down harder on her cock. She watches the way your cunt swallows her whole, how you were gripping her cock whenever she slid out. Sevika curses behind you, low and husky, “That’s it.”

The need to cum overpowers the ache in your legs, the need to please Sevika. Your eyebrows are furrowed, moans spilling as you bounce up and down, again and again. Fucking yourself hard on her cock, making your head feel fuzzy. “I- fuck,” it feels so good. She’s so deep in your tummy, hitting all the right spots. “I’m gonna…fuck…i’m gonna cum,” you manage, whining, feeling the pressure building up in your core.

Sevika doesn’t even answer, entrance by the crease, the jiggle of your ass against her hips. Your thighs start shaking, inching closer and closer. It drives you wild, riding Sevika like a goddamn cowgirl. Your nails dig into her skin, hard, and she only groans at the feeling. You’re chanting her name in a whispered prayer, voice rising in pitch as your orgasm begins to take over.

It washes over you dramatically, wave after wave. You can’t get a word out, mouth dropped in a silent moan, convulsing atop her. Your cunt is squeezing her rhythmically, like a vice, unable to comprehend the feelings taking over your body. Your thrusts become weaker, attempting to fuck yourself through it. You aren’t given a chance to ride out your high before you feel Sevika’s hand fisting your hair. She grips your hair like a ponytail, tugging your head back as she readjusts herself. And then she makes you scream.

Sevika pistons her hips to meet your thrusts, fucking up into you with an aggression. Your moans come out in broken sobs as she overstimulates your cunt. Your neck strains with how tight Sevika holds your hair, pulling you so far back you could nearly see her upside down. “Got another one in you, don’t ya’?” Sevika growls, grunting with each thrust of her cock into your dripping cunt. Strings of your slick are falling to the bed beneath you, soaking Sevika’s thighs, leaving a ring of cum around the base of her cock.

It’s too much. Far too much. But still not enough. The way she’s rutting into you like a dog in heat, making you see fucking stars. Having not recovered from your first orgasm and she’s already fucking you into the next one. Her free hand finds your hip, gripping tightly and using her strength to bounce you on top of her. “Good fucking girl,” she drawls through a grunt, “Taking me so well.”

You sob out in pleasure as a response, listening to the obscene wet sounds. Paired with the slapping of Sevika’s hips against your ass. It was filthy, pornographic, but it simply made you want it more. Sevika was pushing you past your limits, and a sick, twisted part of you got off on it. The way she used you like a toy.

And you let her, body pliant as she fucked up into you, cock hitting deeper than you ever thought possible. Your legs were trembling, so close to giving out beneath you. “Fuckin’ look at you. Making a mess of my dick,” Sevika practically snarls, tugging your hair harder and rutting into you deeper. “Gonna cum, doll?”

You couldn’t speak, attempting a weak nod as you whined. Your cunt was tightening around her cock again and you were gasping for air. It was all too much. The feeling of her cock, the fuzziness in your head. “Please, please, please please,” you whimper, needing to let go.

Sevika chuckles darkly, gripping your hip tighter. “Want it bad, huh?” Her tip was pushing into that spot with each thrust, pulling on your hair until she was able to latch her teeth into your neck.

That was your breaking point, the coil in your tummy snapping. Sevika forces another orgasm out of you. She grunts with each thrust, fucking you through the near unbearable pleasure. Your moans release in broken screams and squeaks, arms giving out as you fall back into her. Sevika wraps her arm around your middle, cooing in your ear, rutting her hips up over and over, letting you feel everything.

“Ohhh,” you’re shuddering in her hold, “Oh my god!” Your hand shoots behind you to grab a hold of the back of her neck, grounding yourself. You don’t even register the tears falling from your eyes from how hard she made you cum. You have to turn your head and bury your face into her, panting for breath, still shaking. You can feel Sevika stroking her mechanical thumb over your hip, offering a form of comfort.

She’s laughing in your ear, smug expression gracing her face. She lets go of your hair to grab your face, smushing your cheeks. “I think it’s my turn, doll.” She says quietly, gruffly, breath hot against the shell of your ear, “Gonna ride that pretty face of yours. Let’s see how much you can take.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[asvtrials]

𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

Emperor Geta x fem!reader, minors dni!

masterlist

summary: Emperor Geta was a selfish lover. He expected you to give him everything, every thread of your being, body, and soul. Yet he refused to do the same. Why would he? He was the Emperor and you were nothing but his concubine, not too long ago you were a common whore that he just happen to take a liking to, just a vessel for his satisfaction. So why was his mind suddenly screaming for him to kneel before you, to let your thighs straddle his face until he suffocates? warnings/tags: smut, mention of an orgy in the beginning, mention of exhibitionism, generally ancient Rome things, Emperor Geta tries to act unbothered but is smitten for his concubine, facesitting, oral (f! receiving), p in v, kind of rough, sub/dom dynamics (obviously), implied abuse, potentially out of character, not accurate to the Gladiator franchise...

a/n: This man is consuming my thoughts. This is me basically pushing my pussy drunk Geta agenda. I love the idea of Emperor Geta being arrogant and selfish but caving at the idea of hearing her scream and moan as loudly as that woman. 'Mae Columba' means my dove, 'Corculum' means sweetheart. Also, this is my first time writing this man

tags: @teechallas-blog @ladynoonwraith @quuinyoung @ghostinhours @slasherflickchick @marn13s-vilewhispers @munsongirl48 @getas-empress @hillarymurray4 @cleo-2345 @lookingformuses @meganfoxismywife @claa-01 @funsquadgoalzz-blog w/c: 3.3k English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes I make. I tried present tense for the first time.

── ୨ৎ

Your thin tunic provides you with little to no warmth, yet you weren't cold even on this chilly night.

Your Emperor's hand runs up and down your right side, his fingers keep grazing your nipple but he is too focused on conversing with Macrinus to notice the impact of his action.

Your eyes wander around the room, from the people who drank, smoked, and laughed, too gone to do anything other than that, to the numerous naked, sweaty bodies intertwined with each other in the most intimate way that was humanly possible.

Yet there was nothing intimate about what you observe. It was primal and carnal, most of them didn't even look like people anymore, the scene becoming too animalistic and raw.

These types of gatherings were rather common in the Palatine and you have gotten used to settings like this one. But this time you couldn't take your eyes off of two people. Two prostitutes amongst the crowd of moving bodies caught your attention.

A woman sitting on top of a man, on his face… The expression of pure bliss she had looks like it was taken out of a vulgar painting, a carefully crafted sculpture depicting the most euphoric moment of one's life. The man's tongue works meticulously on the woman’s cunt making her scream and moan like she was touched by the god's themselves.

The sight was enough for your breath to get caught in your throat. 

That made Emperor Geta turn with a frown, some wine dripping from his full lips. You don’t notice that his eyes travel the path of your gaze, focusing on the same pair as you.

You snap back to reality when his hand gripped your thigh. If you weren't used to his rough touches you would yelp in pain.

When you meet his eyes, there's something behind them that makes you pause. Without a second glance, he turns back to his conversation, leaving you confused. But you don’t miss the way his hand slides further between your legs, almost teasingly.

It wasn't unusual for him to touch you in front of everyone, be it in these types of events or when the gladiator fights bored him to the point where he ordered you to get on your knees and ‘entertain’ him yourself.

But this time, his thumb merely grazes the thin fabric of your tunic between your legs as his hands grip your exposed thigh. Possessively.

Your mind started to race. Did you anger him? Was he upset?

You are in a room filled with naked bodies fucking each other like animals and it never angered him before when you watched. Sometimes you would even comment how ‘sloppy’ their technique was and he would chuckle. So what happened now?

You lean on his side, sliding your hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. He doesn’t react but he doesn’t push you away either. That feels like a win, an opening.

After being his concubine for so long you learned how to behave around him, how to slither your way out of trouble in case you had upset him.

A little touch here, a kiss there, a plea for forgiveness honeyed with praises about how good he is to you along with some dick sucking usually does the trick.

Geta was an emperor but he was also a man with a very big ego. You quickly understood that as much as it is a nuisance it could also become an advantage.

By the time you followed him to his chambers, it was well past midnight.

He had made it a habit to share a bed with you, not even the guards looked surprised anymore.

He walks inside the moment the guards open the heavy doors. He reaches for his golden belt with a heavy sigh but you quickly stop him. “Let me, my Emperor.” You speak, your voice soft. You quickly approach him and meet his stern gaze, waiting for his approval.

Geta lets go of the belt, letting his arms fall to his sides. He looks spent and tired from the long day but you could sense something else frustrating him.

Carefully, you undo his belt, feeling his shoulders relax at the loss of the heavy material. Your eyes travel up his body before finally meeting his gaze through your lashes but you are met with the same cold look from before. 

You take a step back to settle the belt on the table. You aren’t sure if you should approach him again. You expected him to kiss you, to touch you while you were so close but he didn't do either. He just watched you with a raised brow and gritted teeth.

You avert your gaze, focusing on the detailed carvings of the table ignoring the fact that you had seen it a million times before.

You hear his sandals brush against the marble floor, making you shiver. You weren't sure what to expect, he hasn't looked this displeased with you in a long while.

“Mae Columba” ‘My dove’ he says, his voice barely above a whisper but it still held the authority of an Emperor. “Do you know why you wear such lavish cloths?” He asks, not expecting you to answer before continuing, his voice dropping “Why do you smell as good as you smell? Why do golden jewels hang from your ears and wrap around your wrists? Why you aren't passed around my soldiers like a common whore?” 

He was right behind you now, his arms coming to cage you between him and the table. 

His harsh words forced tears to collect on your lash line. You took a deep breath but your voice still quivered as you spoke. “Because you're the Emperor…”

“Because I'm the Emperor.” He repeats softly against your ear, yet there is no softness in his tone. “Then why do you wish for me to become someone else?” 

“I don—” 

“Lies!” He shouts, making you flinch away.

You don't dare to face him, remaining turned to him as his hands start to wander down your sides. “I saw how you looked at those filthy commoners…you were entranced, my dove” 

“My Emperor I—” 

“Have I not done enough for you?” He whispered, but his quiet tone gave you no comfort. His hands moved to your clothed chest, squeezing your breasts mercilessly.

A small whine escapes your lips, your back arching against him. “You gave me everything, my Emperor.” You manage to say through rugged breaths.

He hums pleased. “Clearly not enough since you wish to see me between your legs like a filthy whore.” He murmurs against your ear.

“No!” You yelp, grabbing his forearms after he squeezes your breasts particularly hard. 

Your thighs meet in an attempt to soothe the aching between your legs. “I promise.”

“You promise?” He asks, his tone dripping with disbelief and mockery. 

“Yes! I promise.” You reply quickly, desperation seeping out of your words.

“On the bed.” he commands lowly and you comply without words.

The bed was thrice the size of the bed you used to sleep in, soft with satin sheets and numerous pillows. A bed that an emperor deserved. You weren't sure if you deserved it, yet here you were, lying on the Emperor's sheets like you did many other times.

He looms over your lying figure eyes rolling down every curve of your body like a wolf eyeing a little lamb. His favorite little lamb. 

The one that he never feasts upon but rather chases around until the poor thing is spent and exhausted and pliant for him to bite all he wants.

Geta’s hands find your ankles and he pulls you to him, earning a surprised yelp from you. He crawls to you, entrapping you between his arms once again.

He melts against your mouth, lips moving harshly against yours, refusing to give you a second to breathe. You cry loudly when his teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“My Emperor” you moan against his rough endeavors but he doesn’t stop, you aren’t sure if he even heard you. He was too busy squeezing your already bruising flesh, not even bothering to remove your tunic.

Red liquid escapes from the wound that Geta so eagerly opened. The metallic taste travels to your mouth but he doesn’t seem to mind, and as much as it scares you, neither do you. Instead, you claw at his back breathlessly repeating your words “My Emperor…Let me show you my devotion.”

Geta studies you, his big eyes making him look almost innocent under the dim candlelight.

His lips open to speak his mind, your spit and blood coating them but instead of speaking, he gently caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, smearing the blood.

What are these thoughts? These foolish ideas that plague his mind? His gaze couldn’t deter from your tearful eyes as he let his thumb run down your chin, the faint color of the blood following along.

You were so easy to break, to tear apart and carve as you pleased. He always did just that.

Yet you always came back.

You didn’t have a choice, he wasn’t foolish enough to forget that. But still, you looked at him with a particular dedication that Gate couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Basically, involuntarily he whispers, letting his palm rest on the side of your face “You’ve proven your devotion, corculum. You’ve been so good…” Geta leans closer, his nose pressing your cheek. He breathes in your scent, fighting the urge to squeeze your face with his fingers.

Your breath hitches when he pushes his thumb past your inviting lips and he feels a moan threaten to spill when you sucked on his digit immediately. He couldn’t uncover any thoughts behind your eyes, only lust. Lust for him. Just like he lusted you.

Why is his breath coming out so short, why is his heart threatening to jump from his chest and into your arms? He isn’t even inside you yet and he feels like he can’t think properly.

You weren’t quiet during your shared activities but Geta was always too focused on his own selfish pleasure, rarely caring about yours.

But right now he feels the inexplicable urge to make you scream his name, to make everyone in the palace know, everyone in Rome, the urge to get on his knees and worship you just to get the blessing of your sounds in return.

Oh, you were sent by Venus herself, there was no doubt. There was no other explanation for his crazed thoughts.

The whine that he brings from you when he pulls his hand away burns something deep in his chest. He quickly yanks at his clothes, uncovering his naked, toned body.

Your eyes don’t dare to travel down but you find yourself on your fours, crawling to him. You press your lips to his stomach, tracing his toned body with your lips and tongue softly, teasingly.

A low growl leaves Geta from deep within his throat as he runs his hand through your hair, nearly gently before he grips your locks. He pulls your head back forcing your eyes to meet his, the sudden harshness causing you to freeze.

“You are an enchantress, aren’t you? You have turned me into a madman.” He mutters softly, his tone almost despairing as his blunt nails massage your scalp.

Looking up at him through your lashes you blink, unsure of what to say. Was this an indictment? It sounded more like a statement.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing, my Emperor.” You say softly.

He hums quietly, eyes falling to your legs and he has to swallow hard.

He has seen you like this so many times, and yet you left him speechless every time. From the first time he had bed you, you had left him speechless. Put a spell on him the moment he pushed his cock inside your warm, dripping cunt.

His mind told him to pound you against the mattress as hard as he could, so that every time your core throbbed tomorrow you would remember how vile it was for you to imagine him, your Emperor, between your thighs.

But his body betrayed him. He leans in, his bottom lip grazing your inner thigh.

“I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me, mae columba” He whispers, so quietly that you could miss it if your senses weren’t so heightened.

He released a quivering breath before pressing his lips on your skin. You gasp at the action, gripping the smooth sheets. The feeling of your flushed skin against his lips was exhilarating, it was the beginning of something that he wasn’t sure he could control. 

Without a second thought, his mouth starts to bruise your thighs fervently, his teeth plunging into your flesh like you were his last meal before the guillotine.

Your moans and cries fill the room and Geta’s heart as he continues to mark your thighs, his intensity matching a starved wolf.

He wanted more. He was insatiable, he was always insatiable.

With a swift movement, he flips the both of you. You yelp in surprise, as you land on his chest, your legs spread apart. 

His head finds the soft mattress but he wouldn’t care even if it was the hard floor. All he could focus on was your clothed core, inches away from his face.

“My Emperor!” You begin. You weren’t sure what to say, how are you even supposed to react to such a scene?

Rome’s Emperor gazing at you between your thighs, looking as famished as ever.

“Quiet.” He growls, his arms coming to wrap around your thighs. His hands slowly travel up your body, dragging your tunic with his fingers revealing more of your skin.

Your naked cunt was inches away from his face, his breath hitting your soaked folds sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes couldn’t leave your core, mouth watering at the sight. Impatient, you peel off the dress, revealing your naked body.

It was a pattern whenever you were around him. But this time it didn’t make your cheeks burn about being so vulnerable before his ravenous gaze. On the contrary, it made your chest flutter with satisfaction as you lay on top of one of Rome’s brutal Emperors.

No warning was given to you before he harshly pulled you down to him. His tongue lays flat against your pussy, emitting a desperate sound from you. Soon enough he was lost in the feeling of your wetness.  There was no point in fighting your spell anymore, he was already hypnotized. 

Your eyes can’t leave his face. The way he loses himself so eagerly forces your breath to become shallow and desparate.

His tongue laps on your cunt sloppily, and your juices run down his chin though he never wavers, not even for a second. His mouth worked against your folds like he wanted to consume you whole, to drain you of your essence.

“Gods!” You moan loudly, throwing your head back. “My Emperor!” You cry out.

He whimpers against your pussy, he fucking whimpers. You aren’t sure if you can hold on much longer after that. It seems like any fear or shame you had abandoned your body because you start to rock your hips against his face, his nose brushing against clit with every move.

“I can’t take it anymore, my Emperor—” you gasp, your body trembling uncontrollably.

He grabs your waist, his nails digging into your skin possesively. He pulls you even closer to him, if that is even possible, his tongue running over your folds callously.

Your climax came to you like a violent wave, your body shakes violently after your release. Geta doesn’t stop though, his tongue collecting your fluids even if you jolted and whined.

He only stopped when he had nothing else to take. Like always.

You fall to the side, your mouth agape as you pant frenziedly. Geta isn’t looking any better, his slick-covered lips are parted slightly and his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Gods…” You breathe out.

Geta finally finds his strength again, moving to position himself above you. His burning body pressed against your side, his lips brushing your temple. “Where the gods between your legs, corculum?”

“That’s what it felt like” You whisper and he fought the urge to smirk. 

“Turn around.” He orders lowly, the playfulness draining from his voice.

With all the strength left in you, you comply, turning around to lie on your chest. You gasp when the Emperor effortlessly lifts your thighs off the mattress. 

You whine at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your dripping cunt. 

With one forceful push he’s inside your tight walls and you scream. Your nails rake at the satin sheets as he grunts at the warmness that envelops his cock. “You always feel so good, my dove. Like you were made for me” He groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“P-perhaps I was” You moan, the sound muffled by the sheets, your eyes nearly rolling back.

He sneers lowly. “Always know just what to say. How to bewitch me with your words…”

You yelp when you feel his hand clutch your jaw and pull you backward. Your back slams against his hard chest. He draws his hips back making you whine at the feeling of his dick slipping away before slamming it back inside. He did it again and again until you were crying and clawing at his hand.

“My Emperor!” You cry out and if it wasn’t for his strong hands you would’ve fallen forward.

His cock hits you so deep, so good you can’t help the tears that run down your flushed cheeks and the lewd cries that fall from your lips still they aren’t nearly as lewd as the wet, sloppy sounds that follow after every intense thrust.

His own grunts are so loud against your ear that you swear you can come from the sounds he’s making alone. It was never this intimate with Geta, so close. He usually pushes your head against the pillows and fucks you into the mattress like an animal. You rarely see his face or hear his sounds other than the harsh words he spews at you.

Your back arches at the harshness of his thrusts, and your head falls on his shoulder. His hand slides down to your core. You feel his smirk against your ear when he flicks your clit and you flinch.

“Geta!” You scream his name as you come for a second time for the night, your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

If your brain wasn't mushed from pleasure you would slap a hand over your mouth, bracing yourself for his palm landing on your cheek.

He grabs your face and turns your head to face him. The moment your eyes meet you know there won’t be any repercussions for your defiance. His pupils are so blown to the point where you couldn’t locate the light brown of his iris. He pulls you for a heated kiss and with one last, mind-numbing thurst he spills his seed deep inside you.

He falls forward and pulls you with him. You fall on all your fours, his chest falling flush on your back. You whimper when his cock moves inside your overstimulated pussy with the movement.

Geta’s breath was hot against your shoulder and his hands squeezed your waist occasionally, seemingly without noticing.

“My Emperor,” You breathed out. “Forgiv—”

“Quiet.” He rasped, silencing you immediately.

He threw the both of you to the side, pulling you closer to him by the waist.

That day Geta, with his dick deep inside you, realized two things. That you have probably enchanted him and that he didn’t care one bit. 

Because if being bewitched meant that he would spend his living days between your legs, getting drunk on you, then he would gladly do it.

[monzamash]

★ last chance; long live the inbox graveyard! —i pick a long forgotten request in my inbox and write a short blurb or musings

hot tub time machine lando norris x you —no warnings, just fluff "could we get a number 14 (pool/hot tub sex) with lando pleaseeee? so excited that you’re writing again!!" —requested by anon on october 8th, 2024

“happy birthday, sweetheart...”

“i really needed this," he sighed, "knowing i would be home with you for this was the only thing getting me through the last few of weeks.”

lando could feel every single ache and pain wash away as he slid into the hot tub, stomach full of the gorgeous italian spread you’d ordered for dinner. his favourite. he swore you were an angel sent to earth, everything you did for him was heavenly, he could never find the words to tell you how much he loved you.

“you look so happy lan,” you smiled, dropping the kimono you’d worn during dinner as lando’s eyes cast across your body, luring you into the tub.

“i’m very happy - especially when i get to enjoy all of this… c’mere pretty girl.”

a soft giggle slipped from your lips as you grasped his hand, "let me get a bottle of red wine for us to share and i'll join you — do you wanna open the one daniel gave you?"

"ooo, are we entering that portion of the night?" lando asked suggestively as you stood up, shooting him quizzical look.

"what do you mean?" you asked earning a loud laugh from the tub, water splashing a little as lando pulled himself up to the edge, smiling over at you with a look you knew all too well.

"as soon as you start on the red wine, you get so frisky," he stated as if it was a well-known fact, one that you certainly weren't aware of.

"i do not!" you staunchly defended, earning another loud scoff.

"oh, wow," lando laughed, "yes, you do baby and i'm not complaining so crack her open..." he teased as you carefully stepped into the tub, with lando's help of course, eyes still narrowed in annoyance.

"okay so maybe wine makes me a little more amorous than usual but i think i'm just like that when i drink, no?" you pouted, earning yourself a pity kiss from the birthday boy.

"red wine makes you horny and that's okay," he teased again with a cheeky smirk on his face as you handed him the stemmed glass, "ta."

"we'll see then, won't we," you tutted, pouring two glasses of wine while lando chuckled to himself.

"i already know what's gonna happen but sure," he baited with a wink as he slowly dunked his head under the water and emerged with a shake of his wild curls, sending water flying across the room and all over you.

"you are so sure of yourself tonight."

lando's eyes skimmed across your body briefly while you claw-clipped your hair up, not wanting the hassle of having to dry it before going to bed. secretly you knew where the night was headed, red wine or not— it was his birthday after all, but you weren't about to admit that to the man hypnotised by your every move, jaw slack from the glorious view of your cleavage.

lando was a simple man.

"well, i am the birthday boy after all so i reserve the right to be cocky once a year, yeah?" he taunted from the other side of the tub.

"yeah, only once a year..." you rolled your eyes humorously.

the distance between the two of you seemed too far for lando, so he sculled the rest of his drink and carefully placed the glass on the floor before giving you a mischievous smile.

"steady on, party boy," you chuckled as he leaned forward and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm hold.

"i just want to focus all of my attention on you," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your clip, his emerald irises darted over your face, finally resting on yours.

"i missed you a lot, you know."

you took that as an invitation to straddle his lap and rest your elbows over his shoulders, wine glass dangling from your fingers. lando smoothed his hands down your back and and pressed fiery kisses across your chest. his lips travelled back up your neck, along your jaw before finding your soft lips in a slow, passionate kiss. you moved in sync with him, bringing one of your hands up to trawl through his wet, tangled curls. the chlorine always got the best of them.

lando hummed quietly into the kiss before pulling back slightly, "this is the best birthday i've ever had... and i couldn't be more in love with you," he confessed as you took the chance to admire the sweet boy you'd chosen to share your life with.

you grasped his face gently between your hands and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, making sure he knew just how much you loved him, no matter what life threw your way.

"i love you too, darling... happy birthday."

a/n — the first of the end of (f1) season sale!! this hot tub request actually wasn't forgotten, just half-baked so thank you anon for sparking up the inspiration to finally finish it! hope you enjoyed it 😌

[babydipper]

“How did you know how to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Stitch me up.”

“It's just sewing.”

“And the IV?”

Jazz’s mouth opens, then closes as she also closes her eyes. He lets her think about the answer, a good enough lie. “A friend had a doctor phase a few years ago. We would try to do a lot of things on fake skin before she moved on to tattooing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am telling the truth. Look, I had- I had a weird childhood, so sometimes I had to improvise.”

“No, I believe you,” he says, and he means it. It's so stupid she couldn't make it up. There's also a part of his still light-headed brain that can translate weird childhood and improvise into what it truly means. Maybe she has lied, but not about the thing he thought she would, and it counts for something. The wind on the roof gives him shivers. “Why would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Help me out. It's none of your business.”

Jazz watches him attentively and there's something about it that makes his muscles tense, body fully ready to jump. She tilts her head just slightly. “We live together,” she points out as if it explains everything. As always, it doesn't. Then she bites her lip. “I- I have never had anyone to catch me if I fall. I guessed you don't have anyone like this either.”

It hits him harder than the fucking bullet last night. “You think I would catch you.”

Jazz smiles and it's full of mischief. Then, like a fucking psycho she is, she leans back out the edge of the building.

He has her arm in an iron grip before he can think about it and pulls so hard, she stumbles forward and falls onto him, laughing, bouncing back like a tennis ball. “Are you fucking insane?”

Jazz just laughs harder, her forehead on Jason's chest, her arm still firmly kept in his hand. “Now we both know you would catch me.”

“You are so full of shit,” he grumbles, but the vibration on his skin manages to calm his heart back to a rational tempo. “You could have died.” It makes her burst out into a fit of giggles. “I got shot last night, you dipshit, I wouldn't be able to jump after you.” Not to mention the lack of proper equipment.

“Sorry I needed an outlet after literally saving your ass.”

Jason closes his eyes, trying to contain the laughter, “I will push you.” The wound was on his inner thigh, not his ass, so she can fuck right off for all he cares.

“I'd like to see you try,” she bites back. “You should have this checked out, by the way. Are you even vaccinated?”

“No need to.”

“I'll drive,” she gets off him, deaf to anything he says, and starts to climb down.

Jason follows. She doesn't even know the address. “Like hell, you will.” The story on AO3

[blue-jisungs]

dandelion

author's note. i saw those pics and howled how is he so husband coded..... also decided to post this on his e word day to cheer up us all:(

summary. you feel a little down when your husband seems interested in another woman... but maybe that's your pregnancy causing unnecessary drama in your head

warnings. reader is pregnant<3 slight angst bc reader is hard on herself regarding her looks:( jealousy + mentioned drinking (not reader!!!! never drink while pregnant!!!!), haechan being a lil mean but he doesnt mean it lmao

word count. 1582

jaehyun was helping in the kitchen and laughter was booming from the room whereas you and the others sat in the living room, waiting. 

“the food was so good” you sighed dreamily, rubbing your tummy in a satisfied motion and a  huge smile. 

“i bet she liked it too, huh?” jungwoo snickered, pointing at your stomach.

“oh yes she did. she’s a meat lover after daddy” you giggled and patted your baby bump gently. 

“you inhaled that bbq, we thought there’d be nothing left” haechan giggled and mark nudged his elbow.

“dude!” he hissed, sending you an apologetic smile. 

you just scoffed, shaking your head. 

“no, no, he’s right. it’s the baby you know. sorry” you mumbled and yuta plopped down next to you. 

“don’t apologize, he’s just not too much of a thinker” he teased and rubbed his own stomach too “man, i’m full”

“drinks!” doyoung waltzed into the room, balancing a platter. the ice in the elegant glasses clinked, colorful beverages shining in the sun falling through the huge window. 

johnny put down a bowl of chips. 

“ah, i’ve been waiting for that” yuta hummed like a purring cat and snatched the drink the second doyoung placed them down. 

“and an orange juice for a special lady” jaehyun appeared in front of you and handed you the glass. it had ice and a paper umbrella in it, a slice of lemon adorning the edge. 

you sent him a soft smile, puckering your lips in a pout. that’s a habit you developed ever since your pregnant belly started being too restrictive. it was a sign for ‘i wanna kiss you but i can’t move’

he leaned closer and planted a sweet kiss on your lips, knowing what you meant. 

“i wanna drink too…” you joked, pouting like a kicked puppy. 

“one more month baby” jaehyun said softly, sending you a reassuring smile. 

the evening went on, chatting and joking accompanied by the football match they were watching. 

you were slowly dozing off, partly paying attention to what they were saying. 

“y/n is almost as round as the ball now, look!” donghyuck giggled and your eyes snapped open at the mention of your name. 

“i wonder if your belly if bigger than a ball… i’d say it’s rather a basketball size, huh?” jungwoo pondered. 

a bitter pang overtook your heart. you know they didn’t mean it to sound rude but you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re really that… big… and round… and apparently so easy to target, too. 

jaehyun caught your unfazed expression and clicked his tongue. 

“you remind me of a ball too. your fuckass big head–“ he joked at haechan and everyone laughed, including you. 

and when you went to the bathroom, you missed jaehyun taking the youngest to the side. 

“do we have everything, baby?” your husband asked, pushing the cart. you looked at your notes, not even halfway checked. 

“we barely entered the mart” you grunted and looked up at him. his dimples poked in a boyish smile. 

“anything you’re craving right now, misses” he teased and you rolled your eyes. 

you may or may have not sneaked some of your pregnancy cravings into the cart but you didn’t think he’d notice. 

“shut up. it’s our girl, not me” you huffed dramatically and wrapped your hands around his arm. 

suddenly, a pretty girl appeared in the aisle. she had long, silky blonde hair and was wearing a really cute outfit. it displayed her long legs and the crop top she was wearing exposed her flat stomach. her face was perfect, makeup glowing like a model. 

you sulked upon seeing her figure. you missed your old body. you missed being able to walk around in outfits like these. hell, even fitting in jeans was out of your reach now. 

you realized that when she passed you by, jaehyun turned his head to look at her. 

wave of sadness washed over you, slowly letting go of his arm. you didn’t blame him, though. you were nothing compared to her. big belly, no makeup, hair in a normal ponytail. you haven’t dressed up in a while – and even if you did, you wouldn’t look like you would before. 

“i don’t feel too good. i’ll go back to the car” you mumbled, feeling like crying. you wanted to hide from the world… from your own husband. 

jaehyun’s features dropped in instant worry, turning to you.

“are you okay? i’ll drive you home. do you need to see a doctor?” he asked, panic in his voice. 

“i’m… no, i’m fine! just finish the shopping, ill wait in the car” you grunted and gave him your phone with the list, turning around on your heel. 

he has never ran enough a grocery shop so fast in his entire life. 

after almost sprinting to the car and loading the bags, he hopped in and scanned your face in search of pain. there was always a risk of you giving birth sooner than expected so he was just extremely cautious. 

he noticed your swollen eyes and wet tears. maybe it was just the hormones, it’s not like you haven’t cried before because he just killed a fly. (“what if that fly was pregnant too? what if it was a working father? what if–”) 

he started the car and reached out to grab your hand. you just played with his fingers to ease your nerves, a silent drive home. 

for the past two days jaehyun had a feeling that you were avoiding him. you’ve been either sleeping all day or hiding away in your bedroom. 

at the end of the day jaehyun decided to talk to you. but upon walking into the room, he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. your loose shirt was slightly up, your fingers tracking red stretch marks on the side of your stomach. 

“hey baby, what’s up?” he hummed, walking up to you “we haven’t talked in a while, hm? everything okay?” 

you sighed and just pulled the shirt down, covering your belly completely. 

“look at me pretty, come on” he was starting to get worried. kneeling down to settle between your looks, he noticed your teary eyes.  

“i just feel so gross, you know?” you mumbled, gently rubbing your tummy. jaehyun sighed softly, relieved to hear that you’re not in physical pain. he put one of his hands on your knee, rubbing it in a soothing motion “like i know it’s inevitable but everyone keeps making comments and… and i just miss my old body. it may never be the same… and… it’s just dumb”

“don’t listen to haechan, he’s still a kid. he doesn’t know what he’s talking about” jaehyun said, trying to ease the tension 

“i saw the way you looked at the girl, in the store” you mumbled, lips quivering. he furrowed his brows and realization hit him like a ton of bricks. but before he could explain, you went on “and i get it, i’m so ugly now, i don’t even dress up. i can’t even put anything else than sweatpants… and don’t even mention heels. i get you.”

“oh honey… she had a cute outfit, that’s why i looked. i think you have a similar top, by the way. but also, i agree, i turned my head but… her face seemed familiar. you know that it was johnny’s ex?”

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. the cute dimple smile painted his cheeks as he nodded.

“yeah. i just, i don’t know, was so shocked it was her so i just turned around. but not to check her out or anything. because you are–” he started.

“wait, the one with a foot fetish?!” you asked suddenly. 

jaehyun snorted loudly, hanging his head low. and here he was about to be romantic.

“yeah, her” he snickered and looked back up “but my point is, i only have my eyes on you. we both knew that pregnancy will change your body and i admire you so much. you’re so strong. and just know that, whether or not you will go back to your shape… the stretch marks will stay… will grow old and wrinkled… i will love you. those things don’t matter to me”

you shook your head and pulled the shirt over your face, something you did when too embarrassed to cry. and you did, small sobs choking out from under the material.

“you look beautiful to me. you’re carrying our baby girl and you really glow, to me” jaehyun said and stood up, hands going to rest on your shoulders.

“i love you” you cried and put your shirt down only to wrap your hands around his waist and sob into his shirt. he rubbed your skin in a calming way. 

“i love you more, pretty girl” he whispered into your hair.

after you’ve calmed down he helped you lay down and tucked you in. jaehyun laid down next to you and rested his head on his hand, adoring you with a soft smile.

“got it? you’re the prettiest” he hummed and placed a soft kiss on your lips. then, his hand sneaked to lift your shirt a bit.

he traced the red stretch marks with a feather-light touch and then put his hand gently on your belly. he felt small movements and warm feeling spilled over his heart.

“and i bet she’ll be equally beautiful, my little dandelion” your husband whispered softly. and you couldn’t help but grin, looking at his whipped state.

nct masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua + event: @rubywonu

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE

Summary: You find out about Sarah's pregnancy and so does someone else.

Warnings: literally nothing

A/n: thank you for anon for this idea!

JJ Maybank was a liability to most on this island, kook or pogue. If JJ found out about something at 10am, you best believe the whole island would know by noon. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, he had a big mouth that just happened to slip out information even if he didn’t mean to. Which is exactly how you found out about Sarah’s pregnancy.

Just as you were minding your business, sunbathing on the yacht, and waiting for Rafe to come back with some drinks on the hottest day of the year, you spotted JJ and Pope walking along the dock. Nosy as ever, you effortlessly shifted back from their view, curious to hear their conversation. Chances were it would be about Kie or their new treasure- but gossip was gossip.

“I just still can’t believe it, man. A kid? What the hell are we going to do?” Your jaw dropped at JJ’s words. A kid? JJ and Kie having a kid, was not something you expected to happen. You knew they definitely had something between them, but having a child was a big step to take. You grabbed your phone eager to tell Rafe, of course with strict instructions to slow his return to the yacht.

But as you began to type out a message Pope’s voice began, “We? It’s not our kid JJ, and as far as I’m concerned Sarah and John B are gonna be the best parents we know.”

Sarah and John B.

Your heart thudded in your chest, dropping your phone onto the couch cushions you resided on. You had only seen Sarah a few days ago as you defended her honour against Ruthie and her minions. She hadn’t looked pregnant at all but when you thought back you remembered seeing John B’s hands on her stomach, caressing. Oh my god, she is pregnant.

Your sister-in-law was pregnant, with a pogues baby, fuck me was Rafe about to lose his shit. But you? You were proud, it takes a lot of courage to decide to keep the baby and you knew Pope was right- they’d be the best parents ever.

Minutes later, Pope and JJ disappeared from the harbour and Rafe returned, arms full of all the drinks you like. “Hey baby, I didn’t know what you wanted so I got everything.” He laughed, attempting to place them all down on the table without dropping any. Your mind was far too busy to reply, so you stifled out a laugh. But of course, your boyfriend didn’t miss a thing. Frowning, he looked at you curled into a ball on the seats of the top deck.

“You okay?” He asked, concern coating his face as he took up his seat next to you. His arm around your shoulders settled some of the worry in your brain- but not all. “Yeah, I’m okay. Think the sun is just getting to me that’s all.” You attempted to joke, strategically pushing your body into your boyfriend’s embrace to avoid any more questioning. Convinced you were fine, Rafe stood up, “I’ll go get you some sunscreen. You need to stay protected.”

Protected. Your mind was catapulted back to Sarah. So as Rafe walked down to the deck below, you pulled out your phone again.

1:42pm

Just found some old pics of us as kids, you should come over and see them. We need to catch up Mrs Routledge!!

——————

"Oh my God." Sarah giggles, pointing at a picture of you and her in a swimming pool, with ice cream coating your wide grins. You quickly rifled through your collection of photos, acting as if you had miraculously found them as an excuse to have Sarah over. "We were so cute!" You giggled, as you flipped the photobook over to the next page to see a picture of you and Sarah holding a newborn Wheezie.

Your breath stalled for a moment, before you began to breathe normally again, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. "Wow." She breathed out, tracing over Wheezie's face as her eyes glazed over with admiration. You weren't going to push Sarah to tell you but you wanted her to know that if she needed a handout, you were there. Deciding to push the limits, "I hope I have a baby as pretty as her." You said softly, smiling at Sarah as your eyes met hers.

She knew instantly that you knew. Your eyes were soft and wide, waiting for her to admit what you already knew. "You know, don't you." She whispered, her hands still hovering over the picture. You nodded, reaching over to take her shaking hands in yours.

For a moment you sat in silence, it wasn't awkward but peaceful. "I love you, Sarah. Whatever you, John B and the baby need I'm here." She nodded, eyes beginning to tear up. When you first started dating Rafe she was scared she would lose you to him, but you had been an anchor in her life, a big sister she never had. She knew she had the pogues support, but to have you behind her meant so much more.

"I'm scared." She feebly admitted, dragging her eyes down to your connected hands before continuing on. "What if they hate me or I'm a bad mom?" You shook your head adamantly, if there was one thing you knew for a fact it was that Sarah would be a good mother. "You could never be a bad mom. Remember when you were 7, I was older but had fallen and grazed my knee? I was a crybaby but even at 7 you knew how to clean it and put a bandage on. Those instincts don't leave you." By the end, your eyes were full of tears too. "Will you help me?" She muttered.

You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course. Sarah whatever you need I'll be here. You are my best friend before I'm Rafe's girlfriend. If you want me to go shopping with you I will. Or go to your appointments, I will. And if you want to keep this a secret, we can."

"Keep what a secret?" Rafe suddenly spoke, he wasn't in the room but you could hear him walking over to the lounge. Sarah's eyes enlarged in fear, you had promised her Rafe was out the whole day. Unbeknownst to you, he had finished his work in a hurry, eager to get back to you. You lunged over to the coffee table slamming the photobook shut, Rafe wasn't an idiot and you didn't want him putting him two and two together before Sarah was ready.

By the time he reached the lounge, you and Sarah had quickly wiped your eyes but it would be obvious to anyone what had happened. His eyes widened as he saw Sarah next to you on the couch. He obviously knew you two had a special connection and often went out whether it was for coffee or to the beach. But it had been ages since he had seen you two together in his house. "What's going on?" He asked, still unmoving from his position.

You glanced over at Sarah, who was staring at her brother. Normally, her eyes were full of hate and anger at Rafe but you noticed a new look in her eye. Full of emotion and sadness. You began to ramble a reason for Sarah's visit and also your 'secret', "Just some gossip with Pope and Cleo. You know they always made sense to me, Pope was always really quiet he needed someone more outspoken, you know? I think they really match, but there is just some stuff going on- but obviously, it's our secret can't just be telling anyone. Bu-"

Amid your rambling, Sarah spoke, "I'm pregnant Rafe." The air in the room warmed instantly to you, your shirt clinging to you as you waited anxiously for Rafe's next words. You hoped your boyfriend would sense that Sarah needed all the support she could get regardless of who it came from. You hoped for once he could see past his misguided anger at his little sister.

"What?" He finally muttered out, although it wasn't the response you hoped for it was better than the string of curse words you were expecting. Sarah waited for a brief second before nodding, moving her hands to let Rafe see her small- but visible- bump. Eyes full of emotion, he followed her motion. His baby sister. Pregnant. And despite them having mountains of unresolved trauma to work through, he felt an instinct to protect her baby, and weirdly of all, Sarah too. He finally moved from his frozen stance walking over to you both on the couch.

"Can I?" He asked gesturing at her stomach. Seemingly hesitant, Sarah waited a moment before nodding slowly her eyes never leaving Rafe's hands as he tentatively placed them on her bump. You watched on, trying not to cry at the sight of the two people you loved the most connecting once more. They had problems to solve and conversations to have but at this moment, it was like everything had fallen back into place. "It's only small," Sarah whispered, desperate to not disturb the peace. She had never seen her brother so quiet and attentive.

"I can't believe it. I'm lost for words." Their eyes met, both of the Cameron siblings thinking the same thing, everything would work itself out. But in the back of Rafe's mind lingered one thing, his own want and longing for a baby of his own.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[jobean12-blog]

Make It Last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.

Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.

“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”

You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.

“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.

At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.

“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”

Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”

You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.

“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”

“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.

You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”

Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.

“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”

Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”

“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”

“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”

Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.

“Enjoying yourself doll face?”

You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.

“I am Bucky, thank you.”

“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.

“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.

“My car will be outside at eleven.”

He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.

“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.

Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.

You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.

“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”

Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.

Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.

His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.

Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.

He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.

He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.

“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”

He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.

Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.

His eyes close and he whispers your name.

When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.

You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.

He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.

“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”

You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.

When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.

He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.

You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.

His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.

He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.

“Do you want my mouth doll?”

You nod, your hips squirming.

“I want to hear the word.”

“Yes!”

A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.

His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.

Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.

His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.

After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.

“More Bucky,” you breathe.

He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.

You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”

He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.

It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.

His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.

He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.

“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”

His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.

“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.

His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.

Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.

You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.

“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”

You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”

You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.

“Do you need a break doll?”

“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.

He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.

“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.

“Nothing Bucky.”

“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”

He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.

“You can take it doll.”

His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes Bucky.”

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.

He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.

He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.

“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.

He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.

He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.

You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.

“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”

His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.

He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.

With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.

He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.

With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”

Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.

He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.

Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.

When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”