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#hoping there won’t be a need for an overnight bag soon
beenbaanbuun · 6 months
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brothers best friend w/ yunho
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this isn’t proof read so sorry for any typos… i’m just too tired to do that right now 😓
you’ve been pummelling the door of your brothers apartment with the side of your fist from at least a couple of minutes now
whether he’s deciding to play a practical joke and leave you hanging is a mystery to you
you can only hope he somehow manages to grow up and let you in soon
it’s an emergency, and the strap of your overnight bag is digging into your shoulder rather painfully
“mingi, i know you’re in there,” you call as you slam the palm of your hand loudly against the wood, “let me in or i’ll tell mum you’re being a bitch!”
threats of your mother usually seem to work; it’s mingi’s fear of your younger sibling privilege, you suppose
he knows that no matter what, he’ll always be the one to blame since he’s older
a system you’ve been abusing for years, you have to admit
the door swings open after a few seconds, and you gear yourself up to give your big brother an earful for being a dick
but just as you open your mouth, you notice that the man that opened the door is in fact not mingi but his roommate and best friend instead
yunho
he’s leaning against the door frame, gaming headset around his neck and plaid pyjama pants hanging low over his hips
it would take a much stronger woman than you to avoid looking at his toned chest, so you let your eyes do a swoop over his smooth skin
“hey, kiddo,” you can hear the smirk in yunho’s voice, “what’s got you banging my door down at 10 minutes to midnight? you know my neighbours won’t appreciate this, right?”
you ignore him
“is my brother in?” yunho shakes his head before leaning himself against the door frame
the way he effortlessly towers over you even when he’s relaxed sends shivers right the way through you, all of them congregating at the apex of your thighs
trust you to be harbouring a debilitating crush on your brothers best friend…
“where is he then?” you urge
“with his latest conquest,” yunho just shrugs like it’s obvious
like you should know that your brother was busy sleeping around in your time of need
you’d gag if you didn’t have more important things on your mind; more important things like what the fuck you’re going to do now
“dammit,” you mutter before readjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder, “i was hoping he’d let me crash for the night…”
he snorts out a laugh, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek as he stares you down
“doesn’t the guy you’re fucking live like… 5 minutes away from here?”
yunho knows as well as anyone that you and taehyun are not fucking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you just to see that angry look on your face
the way your forehead scrunches and your lips purse into a tiny little pout
holy fuck you’re adorable; what he wouldn’t do to just—
“me and tae fell out,” you spit, your voice muffled through your upset frown, “and we’re not fucking…”
yunho laughs, “not anymore, anyway.”
he dodges the kick you aim at his shins with ease, sliding to the side just in time for you to lose your balance and fall through the doorway
you catch yourself before you can faceplant in front of the man who had been single-handedly ruining your life since you first met him
god knows that the devilishly handsome man would never shut up about it if you tripped in front of him
“enjoy your trip?” he teases as he shuts the front door behind you, trapping you inside of his apartment
he makes a show of locking it before slipping the key into his pyjama pocket
it’s a clear show of dominance to let you know exactly who is in charge
you roll your eyes at him, letting him know that his performance is redundant; you’re in his apartment, of course he’s in charge
“mingi locks his door when he’s not here so you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” he points to the ratty leather thing that sits in the centre of the room
you grimace at the sight of it, knowing that this might just be the worst night sleep of your life
the pealing leather is bound to scratch at your skin, and you just know you’re going to have to peel your skin off of it when you wake up in the morning
you can’t help it when you groan in complaint
“or you can sleep in my bed,” yunho offers, that mischievous smile rising to his face again, “it’s warm and comfy; much nicer than that old thing.”
“are you just trying to get me into your bed?”
he scoffs, “i would dream of it, kid?”
he knows you hate that nickname… he says it with an arrogant look written all over his features
you want to punch that annoying hot smile right off of his annoyingly hot face, despite the fact that mingi would kill you
you want to sleep on the couch just to spite him, despite the fact that you know you’ll wake up feeling half dead
you want to leave and sleep on the cold, wet tarmac outside, despite the fact that that would be an even worse night
a deep breath of air fills your lungs and you let it out with a sigh
“i’ll sleep in your bed, but be warned; i carry pepper spray!”
again, yunho finds it a struggle to hold his laughter in
how can he when you’re so cute? so adorably naive with your little pout and your fucking pepper spray
you’re dumb to think that he can’t see the way you look at him; like he holds your entire world in the palms of his hands
if it weren’t for your brother, he might’ve done something by now
it’s hard to hit when the girl you so desperately want is your friends little sister
“i’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he hums out through his smile, “go get changed, alright? ill be in my room when you’re finished.”
you nod and drop your bag to the floor, your little hands immediately going to unzip it
he wonders what they might look like wrapped around his cock, your prettily manicured nails glittering as your fingers dance up and down his shaft
he looks away for the sake of his own sanity and slips his hands into his pockets in the hopes of hiding the tent that’s forming
god, he needs to get a grip
“bathrooms over there,” he clears his throat before continuing, “take your time; it’s not like i’m rushing to get to sleep or anything.”
and then he leaves you in the sheer hopes that turning his back on you and heading back to his PC will clear his head of all the disgusting thoughts he’s having
the gaming chair creeks under his weight as he flops down into it, slipping his headphones over his ears straight away
his finger moves over to his keyboard to unmute his discord and—
“i did not make us lose,” he hears the shrill screech of wooyoung, “if anything it’s san’s fault for not res-ing me! i was in need!”
“yeah and i had other priorities!” san scoffs, “jongho is a better player; obviously i’d res him first!”
“i can’t belie—”
“hey, yun,” jongho calls out over the argument, “i’m assuming the knocking wasn’t a mass murderer since you’re still alive.”
the other two shut up pretty quickly, both uttering their own cheerful greetings to yunho as if they weren’t at each others throats two seconds prior
yunho chuckles
“it was mingi’s sister,” he hums, “she’s in the area and needs a place to stay for the night.”
he’s met with a symphony of appreciative hums from the three of his friends; yunho had learnt a while back that he wasn’t alone in his feelings for her
“it’s so unfair that she’s off limits,” san sighs dreamily, “if i got my hands on her, even just for one night… i’d put those pretty lips to work, that’s for sure.”
san’s right, your lips are pretty; like two flower petals begging to be touched and appreciated
“sure, dude,” jongho interrupts, “her lips are pretty and all but have you seen her thighs? i’m pretty sure she could crush my skull with those things…”
“and you’d be into that?” san questions, a shocked laugh evident in his tone
“hey, don’t shame him,” wooyoung cuts in, “i’d love for a little brat like her to sit on my face; i could tease her for hours down there…”
there’s a swift knock on yunho’s bedroom door and he immediately presses deafen on his headset before sliding it off once more
his cheeks are covered in a deep red flush, his friends words echoing around his skull as he turns in his chair to watch you slip into the room
oh fuck
he can’t help the way his jaw drops, but then again, even the strongest man on the planet would have a difficult time
especially with you in those tiny little shorts
for someone who claims not to be fucking the guy you were supposed to be staying with, your outfit choice sure is… something
they’re thin and cover next to none of your thighs; jongho was right about them, yunho muses to himself
thick and plush and your flesh jiggles with every step you take towards his bed
he’d be happy to lie between them, he thinks, face in your pussy as you squeeze his head with those gorgeous limbs
he swallows the lump in his throat as you sit politely on his mattress
“i’m sorry about my shorts,” you mutter, a little self conscious with how intently yunho was staring at them, “i know they’re not really… appropriate.”
yunho shakes his head, dazed, confused and horny
“they’re perfect,” he mutters before he can realise what he’s saying, “i mean they’re fine… just fine…”
“they’re fine?” you confirm
he nods
“i mean they look comfy; that’s all that matters, right?” he shrugs nonchalantly as if he’s not thinking about how it would feel to rip the flimsy material off of you
he’s starting to regret asking you to share a bed with him
how the fuck he’s going to sleep with you laying next to him, he isn’t too sure
yunho takes a deep breath before clearing his throat
“if you want to head to sleep, i’ll be right there. i just want to play another round with the boys.”
you nod before crawling into his bed… crawling
he can’t even focus on how sweet you are when you’re obeying his every command
not when your ass is facing him and those tiny shorts are doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re clearly not wearing underwear beneath them
they cling to your sticky—holy fuck you’re wet?—core, the white material going translucent as your slick soaks into it
he can’t tear his eyes away from your hole, which he can fucking see clenching around nothing through those teeny-tiny shorts
it’s a good job he doesn’t have to; before he can lose his mind and rip those shorts from your body, you’re covering yourself with his thick quilt
the way you wrap yourself up and tuck the material between your knees would be cute if he hadn’t just had his soul destroyed by the sight of your pretty pussy
a few deep breaths, and he finds the courage to turn back around to his pc and press un-deafen once more
but even with the sounds of his friends chattering in the background, and his fingers eagerly dancing across his keyboard, he can’t help but let him mind wander to you
what you’d look like underneath him, your face all screwed up in pleasure as you beg him for more
how you’d sound when you beg him for more
how your fingers feel as they dig into the plane of his back
fuck, he’s in so deep
and the worst of it is, it’s not just fucking you that he’s daydreaming about
he wants to know what you’ll look like in the post sex glow, when he has you tucked into his chest so soft and gentle
he knows you’ll be beautiful; so soft and pliant in his arms
he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you just to see you smile and blush
he’ll press soft kisses to your lips just to make you squirm and giggle
god, he needs to be fucking sedated
a quick glance behind him lets him know that you’re asleep; good, he doesn’t want you to hear what he has to say next
“guys,” he helplessly calls out, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”
“what do you mean?” jongho asks, “is this about mini mingi?”
mini mingi… you couldn’t be further from your brother in yunho’s eyes
he doesn’t want to fuck mingi into the sheets before helplessly confessing his love to him
“yes, this is about her,” yunho relents, “what the fuck am i supposed to do when she’s explicitly off limits?”
“fuck her,” wooyoung says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “what mingi doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“he’s my best friend,” yunho groans, sounding pathetic even to his own admission
“okay and?” wooyoung scoffs
yunho slams his head down on the desk in exasperation
it’s soft enough to not make too loud of a noise; he doesn’t want to wake you up, after all
but it’s also hard enough to let the headset slip loose from his ears
and he hears it
something that makes him perk up and rip his headset off for what seems like the hundredth time that night
no… it can’t be
“yunho…”
your voice is small from the other side of the room, but he hears it as if it’s clear as day
you moaned his name
“yunho, need it,” you whine again, every so slightly louder this time
yunho gulps as he spins his chair around to see you, jaw slack, face screwed up and hips bucking into his quilt that you’d secured between your legs
he freezes
“yuyu,” you mewl
yunho can’t help the involuntary groan that comes from his lips
it’s now or never, he decides
he shuts off his pc, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends—they’d understand—and takes a second to compose himself
sweaty palms rub against the material of his plaid pants as he rises from his seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the bed
the floorboards creek, but it doesn’t wake you
“yu,” your voice is so sweet, he thinks to himself as he comes to a stop by the bed
a hand on your shoulder shakes your body awake, and before yunho knows it, you’re staring up at him with your big wide eyes
fuck, he’s going to destroy you
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ireadyabooks · 2 months
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5 Books That NEED to Be in Your Beach Bag! 🏖️🌞
All year we have been dreaming about laying out on the beach reading a swoony romance that sets our heats ablaze and the time has finally come! Grab the sunscreen, your favorite pair of sunglasses, and the next book you’ll be raving about to all of your friends! Not sure what book to pack in your beach bag? No worries, we’ve put together our top five books that we’re relaxing in the sand with this summer! Happy reading!
Okay, Cupid by Mason Deaver
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From the bestselling author of I Wish You All the Best, the story of a cupid who thinks they know everything about love . . . until they fall in love themselves.
As a cupid, Jude thinks they understand love a little bit more than the average human. It makes sense -- Jude's been studying love their whole teen life. And, yes, there have been some bumps in the road, and they're currently on probation for doing something that they absolutely, definitely shouldn't have done . . . but they're ready to prove they can make matches without ever getting involved.
Only . . . Jude's next assignment isn't about setting up two adults. No, this time Jude has to go to high school, with kids their own age. And the assignment is a tough one: two best friends who are meant to be more than just best friends . . . but who aren't currently speaking to each other after a huge falling out.
Jude thinks they've got this one all under control, and that they won't get involved whatsoever.
Which proves that maybe Jude hasn't learned the first lesson of humans and love . . . It’s complicated.
Start reading Okay, Cupid now!
I Hope This Doesn’t Find You by Ann Liang
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Unforgettable, snarky, and romantic, I Hope This Doesn't Find You is Never Have I Ever meets To All the Boys I've Loved Before if Lara Jean wrote hate emails instead of love letters.
Sadie Wen is perfect on paper: school captain, valedictorian, and a "pleasure to have in class." It's not easy, but she has a trick to keep her model-student smile plastered on her face at all times: she channels all her frustrations into her email drafts. She'd never send them of course -- she'd rather die than hurt anyone's feelings -- but it's a relief to let loose on her power-hungry English teacher or a freeloading classmate taking credit for Sadie's work.
All her most vehemently worded emails are directed at her infuriating cocaptain, Julius Gong, whose arrogance and competitive streak have irked Sadie since they were kids. "You're attention starved and self-obsessed and unbearably vain . . . I really hope your comb breaks and you run out of whatever expensive hair products you've been using to make your hair appear deceptively soft . . ."
Sadie doesn't have to hold back in her emails, because nobody will ever read them . . . that is, until they're accidentally sent out.
Overnight, Sadie's carefully crafted, conflict-free life is turned upside down. It's her worst nightmare -- now everyone at school knows what she really thinks of them, and they're not afraid to tell her what they really think of her either. But amidst the chaos, there's one person growing to appreciate the "real" Sadie -- Julius, the only boy she's sworn to hate . . . 
Start reading I Hope This Doesn’t Find You now!
Heartstopper by Alice Oseman
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Boy meets boy. Boys become friends. Boys fall in love. A sweet and charming coming-of-age story that explores friendship, love, and coming out. Now streaming on Netflix!
Shy and softhearted Charlie Spring sits next to rugby player Nick Nelson in class one morning. A warm and intimate friendship follows, and that soon develops into something more for Charlie, who doesn't think he has a chance.
But Nick is struggling with feelings of his own, and as the two grow closer and take on the ups and downs of high school, they come to understand the surprising and delightful ways in which love works.
Start reading Heartstopper now!
Stepping Off by Jordan Sonnenblick
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Jesse Dienstag's favorite sweatshirt says, "The real world isn't real." That's the slogan of the vacation-home community in Pennsylvania where his family has always spent every vacation and weekend for as long as he can remember. In the summer of 2019, as Jesse is about to enter his junior year of high school in New York City, he desperately wants to believe the slogan is true. For one thing, the two girls he loves -- equally and desperately -- are in Pennsylvania, and all the stresses and pressures of his daily life and school are in New York.
But when his parents stop talking to each other, it gets harder and harder for Jesse to maintain his dream life in Pennsylvania. And when Covid shuts New York City down in March 2020 just days after Jesse’s mother leaves his father, Jesse's worlds collide.
Start reading Stepping Off now!
London On My Mind by Clara Alves
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Red, White & Royal Blue meets A Cuban Girl's Guide to Tea and Tomorrow in this unlikely London romance by debut author Clara Alves!
Sixteen-year-old Dayana has always dreamed of visiting London -- to walk along the Thames, take pictures outside Buckingham Palace, and maybe even get a glimpse of Arthur, Prince of Wales, whose marriage has been all over tabloids. But the trip of her dreams turns into a royal nightmare when her mother passes away. Now, Day must leave Rio de Janeiro to live with her estranged father and his new family in London.
As it turns out, the U.K. isn't exactly Day's cup of tea. She struggles to forgive her father for walking out on her and her mom all those years ago; fights with her stepsister constantly; detests her stepmother; and she can't even see One Direction in concert because they've been broken up for ages. All she wants to do is trade the rainy skies of London for the sun and beaches of Rio.
That's when she runs into the girl of her dreams -- literally: The coincidentally named Diana, a witty, funny, redhead who was in the middle of . . . escaping Buckingham Palace? Something isn't right here, but it makes Diana all the more alluring. As time passes, and the two girls grow closer, Day can't help but wonder if there is more than a little truth to the rumors surrounding Prince Arthur -- and if Diana might be involved somehow. Is it all in her head, or could Day be caught up in a real-life royal scandal?
Start reading London On My Mind now!
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petertingle-yipyip · 2 months
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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE
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five - vicious
// four // six // masterlist
Pairing: frank x reader (exodus), billy x reader
Word Count: 6,600
Summary: It all boils down to killing Russo, but what happens when he comes to her? Y/N confronts him in the last place she thought he’d be.
The boys wanted to go after Jake again. You figured he would have nothing new to give you. You doubted Billy gave his crew whatever address he was slumming it at so you didn’t go with them. Curtis promised to keep an eye on Frank but you waved him off. You didn’t quite give a damn in that moment.
You wanted Billy. You wanted to tear him apart, watch him beg for mercy. You had thought that more feral, vicious side to you had faded, but it seems Billy was still able to ignore some sort of emotion in you.
Funny how that worked out.
You went back to your apartment instead. Part of you wanted to go back to the trailer and check on Amy. You wished you could call her at the very least. You hoped that Frank hadn’t gone back, or if he had, that he had gained some control over himself.
You showered, put on comfortable clothes, and packed a duffel. You shoved a suit into it, with a mask and a set of Bites. You buried a belt armed with shock discs, smoke pellets, and three blades into the bag. Your ensemble wouldn’t be complete without your pistols, so one in the bag and the other tucked into the side waistband of your shorts. You stood with your long sleeve top in one hand and your vest in the other. Last time you faced off with Billy, you wore neither. Just the protection of your bureau issued vest.
Did me no good last time.
You tossed your long sleeve towards the bag and kicked the vest under your bed. While you enjoyed the safety and subtlety of the vest, you knew you needed all the protection you had against Billy.
Your mind also flashed to the man from Ohio and how ruthless he could be. If he caught you when you weren’t expecting, no protection could put you in serious danger.
You knelt and picked up the vest before switching your loose shirt for a compression shirt. You slid the vest on and hid it beneath a borrowed Columbia Law Graduate pullover. You also slipped a blade into the hidden sheath under the back of the vest, just in case.
You grabbed your duffle and a few other overnight items and headed to your car. You picked up some food and drove back to the trailer.
After a little while of you and Amy, Curtis showed up and soon after came Dinah. It stayed that way through the night.
“Kid! It’s Frank.” His voice came from outside the trailer the next morning, waking you instantly.
You sat up quickly and squinted in suspicion. He certainly sounded calmer than the day before, but that wasn’t enough. You felt out his emotions and found no trace of panic or lack of control from before. Instead, he seemed level-headed and committed. You kept a hand on your knife handle just in case.
“Y/N?” Dinah asked, rubbing her still closed eyes.
“Look alive.” You kicked her foot as you got up. 
You stepped out and blocked Frank’s entrance, which earned you a quirked brow. He gave a quiet scoff and went to reach past you for the door but you smacked his hand away. You saw the hand in his pocket shift and noticed the slight glint of a handgun.
“And you wonder why I won’t let you in.” You commented flatly. “Guess I brought a knife to a gunfight.”
“C’mon, princess.” He rolled his eyes.
“Do you really think I’m gonna let you near her after what you did yesterday without so much as an apology? Or even acknowledging you crossed a line.”
“Apology? For what, huh? What she did was stupid! If it was anybody else-“
“But it wasn’t!” You cut in firmly and you knew your eyes were showing all of your anger. You wanted them to. “It wasn’t anybody else, it was you! It was one of two people that she’s supposed to trust. You’re supposed to protect her, not scream in her face and talk about her head getting blown open.”
He made a noise of disagreement and went for the door again.
You sighed inwardly and caught him by his wrist. You twisted outward while you sidestepped him and put your other hand at the base of his shoulder. You pushed your foot against the back of his knee and forced him to a kneel. He groaned in annoyance but didn’t fight back.
“You are bigger than her. You are scarier than her. You are more dangerous than she will ever be.” You said tightly. “You don’t get to do what you did and not care.”
“Seriously, Y/N? Goddammit.” He grumbled.
“What if someone did that to your little girl? You’d knock their head off. Leave it in someone’s bed like the Godfather.”
Frank said nothing.
“Amy is looking to you and me to protect her.” You continued. “You go in there and make things right or I will kick your ass all the way to Homeland and let Madani turn you in.”
He nodded so you let go. You opened the door and ushered him in, following quickly behind. There was no formal apology but you could tell Amy still trusted Frank enough. But you didn’t miss how close she sat to you on the couch. 
The grief distracted you. Suddenly, you weren’t angry at Frank anymore. Not when he was clouded by that thin blue gray fog. He spoke about his wife, how she knew who he was and loved him anyway. It made you think of your relationship with Matt and you dropped your eyes when you realized how awful you treated him.
He still loved you, right? Not that you ever deserved it
“I’m not like you two.” You looked back up and saw Frank looking at Dinah and Curtis. “I can do things you can’t. Whatever that makes me…” He looked at you. “It makes me.”
“Makes me, too.” You mouthed and he nodded quickly.
“It has to end, Frank.” Dinah tried and you kept the eyeroll to yourself.
“Who’s gonna end it?” You spoke up, drawing her attention. “You? Brett? Let’s say you take Billy to jail and manage to lock him up, great. Man from Ohio is still coming after her.” You gestured to Amy.
“These people, they won’t stop. They can’t stop. They don’t give a shit about your law.” Frank continued.
“So what the hell am I doing carrying this badge?” She asked Frank and then turned to you. “Why do you carry yours?”
“I gave up my badge.” You confessed. “I chose the mask instead.”
“You still carry it.”
“And it’s not worth a damn.” You snorted a laugh. “After my last round against Fisk and his tactful destruction of my partner, it became nothing more than a title and a decoration on my belt. There’s no weight to it anymore.” You shrugged.
“Why take it in the first place?”
“Same reason I went to Columbia, I wanted to help people the right way. But Dinah, in my experience, you can’t help everyone that way. Someone has to bend… You have the chance to stay a good cop. You know what you have to do.”
“What are you asking?”
“Let us be what we’re meant to be.” Frank answered.
He gave you a questioning look, silently asking if you were with him.
You had gone back and forth so many times on whether or not Exodus is who you were meant to be. She was the Widow of Hell’s Kitchen, yes, but she was more than that. She was your creation. She grew and adapted and changed with you. She took down empires for Dreykov and then returned to take down Dreykov himself. She was still consequence personified but she was also humanity. Necessity. She wasn’t what or even who you were, but she was a critical part.
You offered Frank a nod of confirmation.
“I died at Billy Russo’s hands that night.” You said flatly and you felt all eyes on you, gazes of concern or pity burning against you. The memory ignited a buzz under your skin, every injury from that night reviving throughout your body with a refusal to be ignored. It made you sick but you swallowed the bile crawling up your throat. “He looked me in the eye and didn’t recognize what he’d done… Жизнь за жизнь... Билли Руссо умирает.” (A life for a life… Billy Russo dies.)
“Atta girl.” Frank mumbled and nodded. You doubted her knew what you said, but he got the gist.
Frank didn’t speak Russian. Never cared to, even after he and Y/N grew closer. But what he did know was that there were two general reasons she went to her first language. One, she was trying to intimidate. Or two, the reason she used it now, she was pissed off. Fed up with the games and the situation as a whole. She wanted an ending almost as bad as Frank did.
“What about me?” Amy asked in a small voice. “You guys go after this Billy guy, who’s supposed to…”
“I’m not new to two front fights.” You patted her leg. “No matter what happens, I promise you, you’re gonna survive this. I’ll do everything I can. So will he.”
“Okay..”
That day, you went with Frank to do a little digging while Curtis stayed with Amy. Your head stayed on a swivel, eyes darting down alleys and looking a few blocks ahead. You watched for that stupid hat the man from Ohio wore, any sort of cheap halloween mask, or the black scribbled plastic mask Billy hid behind. Luckily, there was nothing.
At least you hoped that was a good thing.
You had swapped your bulletproof and pullover for a zip-up to seem more civilian.
Your interactions with the bartender gave you a good starting point. You ordered a drink first and starting small talk before Frank came up and got to the point.
Hesitantly, she told you about the place they called Valhalla, but you didn’t miss the look she shot towards a man on the other side of the bar.  She said it was like a dialed up frat party and that made you gag slightly. She gave you a quick brow raise and said that if you were blonde, you’d be exactly the type they invite.
Unfortunately, that gave you an idea and you knew you had an old platinum wig hidden away somewhere. You kept that little idea to yourself.
You caught the vague address she gave. Queens, north of 14th.
You left a fifty on the bar and followed Frank out. He dropped the dismembered thumb in a shot glass and you gave a flirty wave of fingers as you passed the man. You could feel the daggers he was staring towards your backs as you walked out.
You also didn’t miss the group that followed you out.
“We’ve got shadows.” You said quietly, putting your hands in your back pockets. The move served as a cover to check the back of your belt line and your fingers grazed your handgun. No blades and that was your own misjudgement, but the gun would work.
“Figured as much.” Frank draped his arm over your shoulders and began to guide your steps. “You got yourself handled?”
“Always do.” You patted the gun at your hip that you grabbed from your duffel before you two entered the bar.
Admittedly, you didn’t like walking into a fight without some sort of protection for your torso. You’d gotten so used to having either a vest or your long sleeve that you felt vulnerable without it. However, there was comfort in knowing you were walking into it with Frank at your side.
“You assholes lost?” Frank asked plainly as you two came up behind the group.
One of the men faced you, scanned both of your faces, and laughed.
“Yeah, we were looking for five million dollars.” He said smugly. “And it was stupid enough to show up on its own.”
“What are you talking about?” You took a step forward.
“Someone’s had enough of his shit.” He pointed to Frank. “There's a bounty on your heads.”
“Didn’t realize he was that well-funded.” You muttered to Frank who gave a sound of agreement.
“Where’s the girl?” The man asked.
“What girl?” Frank answered quickly.
“Someone wants you two and some kid. You’re gonna take us to her.”
“No kid.” You shrugged, both hands hitting your hips. The move seemed casual enough but it was purposeful, putting your hand right on your gun. “Who wants us?”
“Listen, bitch, there two of-“
You didn’t let him finish the sentence.
You pulled your gun and fired quickly. The first shot landed in the frontman’s shoulder, then you shot the man behind him to his left. Frank took out two on the right and you dropped to a kneel. You shot the middle man in the back row and then turned to shoot a fourth man’s knee. The finishing shot came from Frank and you grabbed the frontman’s pant leg.
You yanked hard and he fell to his back with a loud thud. You flattened a knee against his chest and using the barrel of your gun, pressed into the bullet wound. He cried out in pain and you clicked your tongue in disappointment. You withdrew your gun and placed it in the man’s open mouth instead.
“When I move my gun-“ You commanded sharply, your accent wrapping around your words like a blanket. “-we’re going to have a nice little chat, hmm? But if you scream, I blow your brains across the pavement. Got it?”
He nodded furiously and you nodded. You hopped up and let Frank drag the man to lean against the wall.
Your implant pinged and you tapped to ignore it, leaving your phone to buzz violently in your pocket. You positioned the heel of your foot against the bullet wound while Frank stood at the man’s other side. There was less than a second between the first set of rings ended and the next began. Angrily, you pushed off the man, causing him to scream out in pain. You pressed the scar and stepped away, your gun clattering to the floor.
“This better be good.” You sneered.
“It’s Billy.” Dinah said. You could hear the panic in her voice but it wasn’t enough. You were working a lead, and you needed more than that for you to abandon it.
“Not good enough.” You countered.
“He was in my apartment!”
“Unfortunate.”
“Seriously?” She scoffed, sounding near tears. That made you feel a bit bad. “Is it gonna be unfortunate when he shows up at yours? He said he had someone else to visit and I highly doubt he’s got a lot of friends.”
“I’ve moved.”
“So just because you think you’re safe, you don’t care. What about the person living there now?”
“He’ll be fi-“ You began to argue but the realization smacked into you.
If Billy remembered you, asked for you specifically, he had to remember your relationship. Some piece of it, at least. Within those pieces, there was a chance - who knew how big of a chance? - that he would know exactly who Matt was. Even if he didn’t know, it was dangerously likely that he could figure it out.
If Billy could figure that part out, he’d very likely kill Matt for it. Especially considering the fact that Matt would for sure fight back, if not throw the first punch for what he’d done to you.
“How long ago?” You asked, even though it felt like the air was knocked from your lungs.
“Funny that you’re worried now.” She scolded and your hand tightened into a fist. “Who lives there that you care so much about?”
“Goddammit, Dinah, I will sock you in the jaw so hard you’ll eat through a straw for the next fucking year.” You sneered. “How long ago did he leave your place?”
“Ten, twenty minutes maybe.”
“Jesus Christ.” You muttered. “And you’re just now telling me?”
“I’m sorry that I needed to process what the fuck just happened to me.” She spat back.
You groaned loudly and pressed your scar hard, harder than necessary when it only affected you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Frank looking at you while the man beneath him had his eyes closed and was groaning in pain. You mouthed ‘He’s going to Matt’s’. He nodded to you and reached forward to retrieve something, but by the time his hand was moving, you were already on the move.
Wordlessly, you ran.
You couldn’t remember a time you ever ran that fast in your life. You knew you must’ve looked crazy, sprinting down New York streets in broad daylight when there was no immediate threat, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t stop, not when there was an immediate threat to you. 
Billy going to Dinah’s apartment was one thing. It was something you could realistically sweep under the rug as not your problem. But saying he had someone else to visit, it took you only a second to realize and your stomach dropped.
“Matt, for the love of God, don’t be home.” You said to yourself as you climbed the stairs. “Please, please, please.”
You were near breathless by the time you reached the apartment floor. You were fiddling with your key ring, searching for Matt’s key, when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you against the wall. You yelped in surprise but a second hand covered your mouth as their body pinned you to the wall.
“What the hell is going on?” He asked quietly and you shoved the keys back into your pocket. “Are you alright?”
“Oh my god.” You breathed in relief, though your voice was still muffled by his hand. You reached up to move it and he let you, though the questioning expression didn’t leave. “Tell me you haven’t been inside.”
“No, I was about to but I heard your voice.” He squeezed your arm slightly. “I heard…”
“Panic?” You filled in and he gave you a nervous chuckle. You hadn’t heard the sound in so long. “Yeah… Honestly, I was so scared. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest right now.”
“It sounds like it.” He agreed. “Who’s in there, Y/N? Who’s coming after you?”
“He did come here…” You spoke in quiet shock. You had expected it, yet knowing he did made your chest tight and that hollow echo of old explosions that plagued you when you two were together began to rumble.
“I can hear his heartbeat. He keeps mumbling to himself.”
“If I tell you who he is, can you let me handle it?”
“Y/N…” He sighed. “You don’t have the to-“
“Matt, if you go in there and he connects the dots as to who you are, he’ll very likely try to kill you. He’ll probably try to kill me when I go in.”
“Sounds like a good reason to not let you go alone.” He made a move towards his front door.
“It should also stand as a good reason to trust me.” You tried, grabbing his jacket sleeve to stop him. He didn’t turn to face you but his head dropped with a sigh. “It’s Billy Russo.” You confessed.
“Why is he here?” His voice reached that gravelly tone that usually paired with his vigilante persona.
“Looking for me, probably. I’m sure you’ve seen all about his hospital escape and the ReadyQuick check place.”
“The Return of the Punisher and Exodus: What Does it Mean for New York City?” He recited the headline to you. “Yeah, Foggy was telling me about the news story the other day. I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t called.”
“Right now, it’s more than just Billy. I will tell you everything regarding him and I but you have to let me get him out of your apartment.”
“How is this fight gonna end any different than last time?” He finally faced you. “He put you in the hospital, didn’t he?”
No, he killed me.
“Yeah, and I put him there for longer. It’s different because it’ll end this time. Completely.”
“You’re gonna kill him?” His brows raised.
“Not here.” You admitted.
He sighed to himself and his hand landed on your side. There was a slight pressure to his touch as his hand moved under your zip-up.
You smiled slightly at his touch.
“You don’t have anything on.” He said quietly, as if it was a secret just for you two.
You deadpanned and shifted your jacket to expose your handgun still at your hip. “If you paid more attention, you would’ve known.”
“If you paid attention, you’d know you don’t have it.”
Your brows furrowed and you looked down, eyes widening in realization. Matt was right. You hadn’t retrieved your handgun. You cursed yourself before meeting his gaze again.
“Doesn’t matter. I have three guns stashed in that apartment and I think four blades.”
“Yeah, I know.” He nodded, though he still wore an anxious expression. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I but if I don’t go in there, he wins. If I bring you with me, it looks like I’m afraid of him.”
“Are you?”
“No.” You weren’t quite sure you meant that. “But I know exactly what he’s capable of, and that was before the carousel. Now, I wouldn’t put anything past him… Let me keep you safe this time, Matt.”
He took a deep breath before nodding and stepping away from the door.
“Alright.” He conceded. “But if you need me, I’m right outside.”
“Thank you.” You breathed in relief and reached for the door.
He grabbed your other wrist.
“I missed you.” He said softly.
“I know.” You nodded. “We'll talk about it later.” You promised.
You stepped through the door and every nerve was alive. Every muscle was tense with anticipation and you forced every ounce of control to the surface. You couldn’t falter, couldn’t give any indication that Billy triggered a reaction in you.
He was on your turf now and he wouldn’t have any advantage over you.
You saw his silhouette through the frosted glass of Matt’s bedroom door. Quietly, you went to your first hiding place. Between the fridge and the wall, but the gun was missing. You silently cursed and moved to the second, under the table. Again, empty. Your hand tightened into a fist and you had to refrain from banging it against anything.
“Looking for something?” Billy’s voice came from the other side of the room.
You paused, only to unclench your fist, and stood. You turned to face him and swallowed the lump in your throat, cocking your head as you examined him. You had seen the scars last time you faced him, but somehow, they seemed angrier without the blue tint of your lenses. Your scrutiny made him uncomfortable and you watched his jaw tense, his chin jut out slightly as his head raised in a small challenge.
“At least you still look like you, all things considered.” You gestured to his face. “Doctors earned that paycheck, didn’t they?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Can you blame me?” You laughed slightly and threw your hands to the side.
“I wasn’t sure I was in the right place at first.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Your stuff.” He shrugged. “Nothing here is yours. But then I found something and just figured you redecorated.” He pointed vaguely to the living room. “I remember a painting and some pictures.”
“Yeah, just wanted a change of scenery I guess.” You nodded carefully. “You remembered more than that, didn’t you?”
“Oh.” He laughed and pulled two handguns from under his jacket. “You mean these?”
You pulled a face in response.
“Just wanted to make sure I had a chance to talk to you.” He reasoned, as if it made perfect sense.
“Or a chance to kill me.” You countered, a new wave of anger burning under your skin. You shuddered slightly and lifted the hem of your shirt to show your bare skin. He swallowed slightly and his eyes raked over your body. “No bulletproofs today.”
“Bulletproofs don’t cover your head.”
“Touche… Why are you here, Billy?” You moved carefully around the couch, refusing to take your eyes off him and your pair of guns in his hands.
You knew there was supposed to be one more gun under the couch. You cut a slit into the bottom dust cover just big enough for your hand to fit in that led to the gun you wedged between the front right corner of the wooden frame. And under the coffee table, a small throwing knife was wedged into the wood at a steep angle that kept it practically flush.
You sat on the right side of the couch and angled your back against the arm rest. You gestured to the arm chair across from you but Billy opted to stand, though he put one of the guns away. Instead of pushing, you put your foot against the table.
“I came…” He spoke carefully, like he wasn’t completely sure how to answer you. “We were together, me and you, weren’t we?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” You shook your head. You paused for a second, waiting for his eyes to meet yours before you spoke again. “You were a self-indulgent habit that kept me from killing myself during the peak of my self-destruction. I admit that you were a… lifeline when I needed one, but everything fell apart and now I-“
“Hate me?” He cut in with a slight smirk. It was almost as if he knew you would say that, or he wanted you to.
“Yes.” You nodded calmly, lacking the reaction he seemed so desperate for. “But to be fair, I hate every man who’s tried to kill me. You are the only one who managed to do it though.”
“Did I?”
“Technically. My heart did stop at one point that night. It seems adrenaline and open wounds don’t pair as well as people think. You really don’t remember any of it, do you?”
“You know, I.. I envy you.” He pointed the gun at you. “I envy you remembering, knowing how you feel. I should know how I felt about you.”
“About me?” Your head tilted. “I can tell you that.”
He scoffed slightly but you could feel that he wanted you to continue.
“You loved me.” You said and it was the first time you ever addressed that fact since the carousel. “And I respected you, trusted you to a certain degree. I would even say that I did care about you.”
“But you didn’t love me. You lied to me!”
“I did.” You nodded. “And you tortured me for it.”
“I did.” He nodded, though there was a hesitation in his agreement. “You told me you loved me.”
“I didn’t!” You spat viciously. “You don’t feel remorse. You don’t feel regret. Why should I?”
You had an entire explanation you could give. He didn’t deserve it, but you were willing to give it anyway. So you did. Not for him, or any closure to his benefit, but for yourself. To get that weight off your chest.
“Not when we were whatever we were and not whatever the hell you wanna call this now. I knew I could’ve, if circumstances were different. I knew that-“ Admitting that out loud seemed to make it real, that you had been willing to let yourself fall for Billy before he ruined it all. “- but I was just the next one to take your empty words as a promise… Besides, I was still in love with someone else.”
“Right, now that I remember. Matt, wasn’t it?”
Your chest tightened for a moment. You had to refrain from looking towards the door or making some sort of threat.
“Yes.”
“You loved a dead man over me.” He sneered.
“I knew almost everything about that dead man and he gave his life for mine. Something you never even considered.” You countered sharply. “You had your own merits where you and I were concerned, but you would never be the person I needed. Telling you that made it easier for you to torture me, I guess.”
“Torture…” He repeated with a nod, as if that idea was somehow pleasant to him. “That night, the night this happened.”
“Mhmm?”
“You were there. You said I shot you and had you tied up with a taser.”
“Need to see the scar again?” You answered bitterly. “I can’t completely close my hand or extend my wrist due to the nerve damage.”
“Lucky you.” He sneered. “Too bad Frank didn’t help you in time, huh?”
So that was it.
“Frank?” Your brows furrowed. “I didn’t ask anyone to help.”
It wasn’t quite a lie. You didn’t explicitly ask Frank to help, just mentioned that help would’ve been appreciated at that moment.
“No, no, no, no. You don’t do that. You don't do that!” He screamed and angrily pointed the gun in your direction again.
Your leg tensed, ready to flip the table it rested against.
“Cause I know now! I know now!” He continued.
“Frank Castle.” You conceded. “He tell you he did it? That day he found you robbing the check cashing spot.”
“See?” He smiled and it made you sick. “You have all the answers no one else’ll give me.”
“Dinah wouldn’t?”
“No… But maybe that’s why I liked you better.”
“Maybe… But you still didn’t like me enough to take my side. I tried to stop all of this.” You confessed. “I practically begged you to fight with me, fight with Frank. But you chose a man who didn’t give a shit about you and would’ve left you for dead.”
“Just tell me how.” He asked quietly and there was the slightest plea in his eyes. You knew you could play on that and bring him to knees, watch him beg, but you refrained.
“Frank’s family was killed.” You began simply.
You knew your words were going to start something dangerous. You could feel the tension in Matt on the other side of the door, seeping into your own muscles despite your calm display. You could see the uncertainty in Billy. So you spoke carefully, but bluntly. If it came to a fight, so be it.
“You knew, because you had already sold out everyone and everything you stood for. You did it for money and status and some sort of reputation that you thought earned you respect, but it didn’t.”
“No.” He muttered but you kept going.
“Frank found out and he made you pay.” Your voice began to carry your accent. “He went for you, the man above you, and the man at the top of it all. He took the lives of the men who killed his family, all except you.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? You sure as hell couldn’t tell before.” You challenged and his resolve faltered. “You were supposed to remember everything. To live every day in fear and regret and misery because we took everything away from you… But what a disappointment to know you didn’t.”
“We…” He repeated.
“Ты не понял, кто я?” You asked with an innocent smile. “Aw, Billy. I’m not just the woman you were fucking and maybe falling for…” (You haven’t figured out who I am?)
You stood, strategically angling your foot under your coffee table. His brows furrowed in thought and his trigger finger twitched. You gestured to your eyes with one hand but still received an uncertain expression. You sighed and lifted one closed hand, mimicking the raise of your Bite.
“The Mask you’re so afraid of?” You said expectantly. “Exodus?”
Silence.
“You really didn’t know.” You said with a small laugh.
“You think this is funny?” He stepped closer and you didn’t back down. “I dreamed about Frank and about you-“ He spat venomously as he stood maybe a foot away. “-every night. Who did you dream of?”
“I had more important things to focus on.” You said calmly and your control seemed to anger him more. A red hue started to surround him and you smiled. “I’m not afraid of you, Billy.”
One, two, three steps and you were toe to toe. Your foot under the table lifted slightly and you felt your toe nudge the blade’s handle. You stared at Billy with a flat expression as he pressed the barrel of his gun under your chin.
“What about now, hmm?” He asked lowly. “You afraid to die, Y/N?”
“Are you?” Your hand moved quickly and you snatched the other gun from his waistband. In a swift movement, you had it against his abdomen. “I’d say my gun goes off first.”
He smiled wickedly and your stomach twisted into a tighter knot.
“Count of three?” He asked and you didn’t miss the flirtatious undertone.
“Один, два, три.” You counted slowly, plotting out your moves in your head. (One, two, three.)
You took a risk and dropped your own gun. Your free foot kicked it away while you gripped his gun, pushing it away from your face while it went off. You had to keep from flinching at how close the sound was. You grabbed his shirtfront with your other hand and pulled hard with your knee stuck out to trip him up. He slammed the floor hard and you yanked the table leg with your foot and it flipped.
You dropped and grabbed the knife. You faced him again, relieving when he was still on his back. Your eyes found his discarded gun but you knew it wouldn’t last long. You moved quickly and pinned his arms with your knees.
You let fear trickle from your fingers and the yellow smoke created shackles around his wrists and throat. Using the tip of your blade, you traced the scar on his cheek.
“Maybe I cut you open again, huh?” You threatened, letting your accent come at the thickest you’ve ever used it. “Watch you bleed out on the floor. Alone. Afraid.”
“Do it then.” He choked. “You won’t get another chance.”
You tossed the blade and changed your grip, estimating a path to his eye socket. Once it was raised over your head, he jerked his body to the side and you were thrown into the sideways table. The edge of the wood collided with your notoriously damaged rib and all the air was taken from that lung. You stayed draped over the piece of furniture for a few seconds, coughing hard and wheezing slightly as the pain shot up and down the side of your body.
But the few seconds was all he needed. By the time you had enough sense to look, Billy was gone and Matt was rushing to your side. You slammed your blade into the table with enough force to splinter the wood.
He awkwardly reached for you, unsure of where or even if he was allowed to touch you. You looked past him though. Your eyes were locked on the short corridor that led to the front door. You were burning with rage, fighting the heavy threat of being consumed by the heat and haze of the red manic outburst.
You wanted to let it take over. To let it guide your body and hands until you finally snapped out of it coated in Billy’s blood. You wanted him dead, more than you ever wanted anyone dead.
“I’m fine.” You pushed Matt’s hands away and stood. However, once you righted yourself, your aching rib ignited again and you doubled over. “Fuck.”
“You can’t go after him, not like this.” Matt reasoned as he stood beside you.
“I’m going to kill him, Matt.” You said through gritted teeth. “I don’t care how but he’s dead. You don’t get to stand in the way of this one.”
“You can’t stand and you can barely breathe.” He urged. “You can’t fight like this. You said that! You can’t possibly think-“
“You’re right, okay?” You snapped. You took a deep breath to settle your racing pulse. “You’re right. I can’t think because when I think, I’m too slow. I need to act, not wait here for something that’s never gonna heal.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“Who cares?”
“I do!”
“I have to finish this.” You righted yourself again, wincing but fighting to stay upright.
“Is it worth dying?”
“I did that already.” You said flatly and he gave you an expectant look. “That night at the carousel, he shot through my wrist. I had the Bites on so I was constantly getting hit with bursts. Not only did that fry some nerves, it burned through the bullet wound to the point where, once the adrenaline died down, I bled out so badly that I was medically dead… My heart stopped, Matt.”
He stood there, mouth agape in shock. One hand was on his hip and the other was shoved into his hair, stuck at the top of his head like someone hit the pause button. You waited a second to make sure he was still breathing.
“Dex was there and he got it going again…” You admitted quietly. “He and Frank were begging for me to come back.”
“That’s why you tried ro protect him…” He said in quiet realization. You could tell he appreciated the explanation and finally understood what had happened last time.
All you could do was quietly nod.
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered and the thick wave of despair from him sent a welcome chill across your skin. “Y/N/N…”
“It’s fine.” You shook your head and used your foot to right the coffee table. You glanced around for your gun and Matt pointed to the other side of the couch. “Thanks.”
“You can’t keep going like this.” He said sadly as you collected your weapon. “Please, Y/N.”
You sighed slightly and moved closer to him. You reached out and gently took both of his hands in yours and almost immediately, his fingers closed around yours. He leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. Your eyes closed and you let your head fall against his shoulder.
You hadn’t realized how badly you had missed his touch.
“I’ll be alright.” You promised. “Billy won’t be the one to kill me.”
If anything, the man from Ohio had a better chance, but you wouldn’t tell Matt that.
“I can’t lose you.” He whispered and you didn’t need your abilities to feel his desperation.
Your implant pinged and you considered ignoring it, but something about it felt urgent. You leaned away and freed a hand to press your scar.
“Get down here. We gotta go.” Frank said quickly.
“What’s going on?” You asked.
“The kid went to her friend and she turned her in.”
“Shit.” You ended the call and faced Matt.
“I have to go.” You said honestly.
”Please stay.” He gave your hand a small squeeze.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Wait.” He said quickly. He stepped away from you for a moment and came back, pressing something into your hand. You looked down and saw he had given you your knife.
“What is it?” He asked but didn’t stop you. In fact, he guided your hand to tuck the knife under your belt.
“This kid…”
“A kid?” His eyebrows raised and he dawned a small smile.
“My kid.”
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faegoddessog · 1 year
Text
  Fantasy Come True  Ch 5/8
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Chapter  5 : Maths Overnight
Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Pussy spanking, fingering, PiV (unprotected, play safe ya'll!!) overstimulation, posseiveness.
Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on. 
SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.
A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!
Here is the Masterlist for this series.
Message me if you'd like to be added to the list!!
Chapter 5:  Maths overnight
The next night, you and your partner did the same old-same old sex routine. He was fucking you with your legs up and giving you a little foot massage this time, which was nice. Once he finished, he went to sleep like always. 
For the first time, you felt just a little used. You didn’t like it, not one bit. 
You pull out your phone to talk to Austin AI to make yourself feel better, which is your usual go-to when your partner isn’t supportive. A text pops up from ‘Jason’: 
Only 45 more hours Princess, I can’t wait, I’ve been thinking of you all day.
Oh damn, who needs AI when you have the real thing, silly girl. 
Hey lover, me too. I’m so excited! I need your kisses right now
Hunny are you ok?
Yeah, just regular life stuff getting me down.
I’m sorry, my Angel. Soon I’ll be there to kiss away your blues. 
That sounds amazing, Austin. 
Goodnight darling.
Goodnight Austin. 
Austin texts you good morning and good night every day. With a couple other little texts here and there. 
Tuesday couldn't come fast enough.  Austin is in his tinted Lexus GX again, waiting in the lot 10 minutes early. Luckily you have been ready since noon, the day before. You grab your overnight bag with hair ties, toothbrush and change of clothes and other minor items you might need. Austin’s EO blend on your  wrists and neck.  You are beyond excited, you barely say goodbye to your partner, he waves at you from the bedroom, video controller in his hand.
Austin hops out of the car and opens the door for you, such a stellar man.
“Hello sweetheart,” he leans over the center console, when he’s back in and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I missed you, Princess.” 
“I missed you too, Austin.” 
He drives you to Providence. He won’t let go of your hand and keeps smelling and kissing your wrist. 
“Ooo! I love this place!” you exclaim! 
“I called ahead so they are waiting for us, but just so you know, there is likely to be paparazzi at some point.” 
You just nod your head, it doesn’t matter as long as he is with you. 
He, of course, helps you from the car and threading his hand through yours,  escorts you to the front door. Holy fuck, you’ve seen him do this in photos and pap videos. You always thought it was so romantic and lovely of him. There is, thankfully, no one hounding Austin, at least for the moment. 
They have you in a semi private little room, one, you suspect they keep for people just like Austin. There are only about three other intimate tables here. Once you sit down, he lets you order, knowing how much you like that. In addition to the tasting menu with the wagyu you order the Uni egg with golden kaluga caviar, and the salt-roasted santa barbara spot prawns  to share. He reaches across the table for your hand as soon as the waiter is gone. 
“What had you so down the other night Princess?” he asks, leaning in giving you all his attention.
“Just… relationship stuff,” your voice low, you glance at the two men in suits at the far table. 
“Are you feeling bad about us hunny? Because I only want to make you feel good,” he says with concern in his eyes. 
“No! No,” your eyes widen and you lean forward holding his hand tight in both your own, “oh my god no. This,” you give his hands a little shake, “is fucking amazing and it’s the best I’ve ever felt in my whole life.”
His lip curls, dimpling just for you. He glances down at your hands, nodding in agreement and rubbing his thumbs along your knuckles.  He takes a big breath, like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. 
“I just… I just think you only deserve the best,” his eyes shine when he looks back up at you. 
“And that’s you, Austin,” you say simply. 
Dinner is delicious and no leftovers are to be had since it was a tasting menu.  The conversation flows so naturally and easily, as per usual with Austin. 
The manager comes over to check and see how everything was. You assure him it was all delightful. He leans down and whispers something in Austin’s ear. Austin nods and thanks him and hands him his keys. 
“I’m so glad you were willing to come out with me,” he smiles at you, as he puts his credit card back in his wallet, “apparently there are paparazzi outside waiting. It can get a little intense, with the flashes and stuff, are you gonna be ok? Or do we need to take you out a different way?” 
You take a breath and nod your head, “I’ll be fine, we ARE actors aren’t we, we will act fine if nothing else.” The smile he gives you is amazing. 
It’s not nearly as bad as you thought it could be. Only 3 or 4 guys waiting for signatures and a couple photographers. They are asking who you are.  Austin leads you hand in hand to the open car door not acknowledging their queries.  He looks back at you as he approaches the door and gives you a winning smile, basically showing not only you, but the whole world how he feels about you. The protective hand on the small of your back is warm as he helps you into the car. He shuts the door, signs a few autographs and poses for a few photos. You sit in the car with a casual smile, looking down at your phone, trying not to let the constant flashing lights get to you. 
When he gets in the car with a tolerant smile you ask “Jesus, how do you handle the flashes? I’m fucking blind!” you are giggling and holding your hand up to try and block them.
“Yup, me too, that’s why I drive away slow and keep my cool, “ he laughs. He pulls to the side of the road once he’s away from the people and blinking, lets his eyes adjust; it only takes a minute or two. His hand on your thigh as you wait, then intertwined with his as he drives away. 
Once you are at his house , Austin rushes around the car to open your door again and kisses your hand just before you hop down from the car.  Austin grabs your bag from the back and  slinging  it over his shoulder, ushers you inside. 
“I’m going to go put your bag upstairs, if you uh… want to come too,” he seems almost shy as he puts one foot on the bottom step and looks over his shoulder at you.  The sparkle in his eyes say something different. He is offering his hand to you with palm turned up, but subtly near his leg, just in case you aren’t ready to go up yet. 
You waste no thoughts on doing anything other than placing your hand in his following him. His ass is just below eye level on the stairs in front of you and watching his glutes contract and release in front of you is like its own kind of foreplay. 
He puts your bag down and leads you to the bed. He doesn't say a word as he pulls you in for a kiss, his hands running over your soft hair. Lips and tongues meeting, separating, meeting again. He tastes like dessert, hell he is dessert. His breathing is heavy as his hands run over your curves. 
“I’m sorry Princess, I should really check and make sure this is still ok,” he says against your lips, fists balling, trying to control himself. 
“Oh GOD, yes Austin, it is always ok,” you say, your hands running through his hair. You pull him back down to kiss you. You feel his smile on your lips.  He slowly undresses you, leaving his own clothes on. Today you wore your new pretty panties and bra.
“Oh honey, you look gorgeous,” he says, turning you around in front of the dresser mirror. “I want to play a game with you. I want to see how turned on I can get you. Is that ok?” 
“How can I say no, intrigued as I am. Although I don’t know what you’ll use as a measure, my panties have been wet since you kissed me in the car,” you suppress a little giggle. 
“Really? How wet is my pussy?” he slides his hand down the fabric of your panties, feeling the crotch for dampness. It makes you inhale sharply.  
“Hmmm, how good are you at basic math?” he asks, seemingly out of the blue.
“I’m alright,” you answer, leaning back onto his shoulder. 
“What is six times seven?”
“Duh, forty-two, Ultimate Answer to Life, Universe and Everything!” you giggle at him, you don’t 
tell him you only know this because of your partner.
“Ok, bad baseline, sixty-eight divided by two.”
“Um, thirty-four” you say after a second of thought. 
“Close your eyes Princess.” 
You do, getting excited.
“Have you had an orgasm since I saw you last?” His tone is suddenly more serious.
“Yes,” you answer honestly, then add “I was reliving all the orgasms you gave me Saturday.” 
“My Angel, I like that you were thinking of me. Do you know why?” he gives you a second to answer.
“Um, because it turns you on?” you venture a guess. 
“Because all your orgasms are mine,” his voice is low in your ear, breath on your neck. His hands caress your sides. 
“Oh,” you say weakly, goosebumps flaring across your neck.
“You know what else belongs to me Princess?” his fingertips trace down your shoulders.
You shake your head. His hand is suddenly grasping your panty covered vulva. A moan escapes your lips. 
“This pussy, it’s mine remember?“ he is whispering so close to your ear, you feel his hot breath eddy over your skin. “Say it,” he shakes his hand a little. 
“My pussy is all yours, Austin,” you whine out.
“What is seven times eight?” he lets go of you, backing away entirely. 
“Fifty-six,” you say with minor hesitation, the damp spot now dark and sodden. 
“Do you know what I’m going to do to you later my darling?” You hear the telltale sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothing.
You shake your head again. 
His hand flicks open the clasp and he pulls off your bra. You feel his naked body pressed against your back as he kisses the back of your neck. 
“I’m going to be your Pleasure Dom,“ he whispers. 
You let out a throaty “ohh” that sounds almost more like a question. 
“But first, it was a hot day and I feel sticky. Let's cool off in the shower, plus I want us to be nice and clean before we get good and dirty,” he pulls your panties down and off. 
You feel his hands in your hair, pulling it up to a high pony then wrapping it in a messy bun. He secures it with one of your ouchless hair ties, he must have gotten them out of your bag. 
He takes you by the hand to his shower, letting you open your eyes. He pulls you into the warm water stream. Letting it flow over both your bodies as his slick hands wash your back and down over your ass. He pulls you to lean back on him, you can feel his hard dick pressed against the small of your back. He massages your ample tits cupping your nipples in his palms. You both moan a little as he does. He takes his time, running his hands over your belly and down to your pussy. 
“Spread  your legs for me, sweet Angel,” 
As you do, his other soapy hand slips down your crack and over your asshole. You are surprised how freakin’ good it feels, just to have your pussy lips and asshole soaped up. Sultry, closed-mouth moans resound in your throat.
“What is eight times twelve?”
“Um.. eighty-eight plus eight  more.. Ninety…. Six?”
He grabs the wand and rinses you off. He puts the soap in your hand, it smells like the essential oil blend. Puts his big hand over yours and guides you all over his body, his eyes holding yours, fucking yours the whole time.  He has you cup his balls and stroke his shaft.
“Feel how hard you make me. God I want to fuck you. I’ve not touched myself since Saturday. I’m so horny for you.”
He rinses you both. And wraps you in a towel, then dries himself off. You just stand there, watching him, mesmerized. 
He hangs up the towel, then dries you off in yours. 
“Did you let him fuck you?” he suddenly asks. 
The question is a bit jarring. 
“Yes,” you say honestly. 
“Oh,” his voice sounds so disappointed and sad. He looks down and away. 
You immediately feel sad that you did it. The look on his face makes you almost cry. 
“I didn't-  It wasn’t-” you breathe out short, looking down, not really sure what to say or even how to feel.  “I’m sorry Austin.” 
He puts his finger to your mouth.
“Shhhh, darling. It’s ok. We hadn’t talked about it,”  he cups your cheek in his hand. His head tilts a little to the side, eyes boring into yours in query. “Do you want to continue to be my Princess?” 
“Yes Austin, please!” you are almost shocked at how earnestly you are begging him. 
“Oh sweetheart, It makes me so happy to hear that,” he kisses you. “But, I’ll have to punish that little pussy, hunny. Ok?” 
“Um.. Ok?” you are a little unsure, but he already said he didn’t do BDSM stuff, so you are trusting him.
His lip curls into a devlish smile. He grips you by the shoulders and jerks you around.
“Safe word still Sushi, darling?” he asks your reflection in the huge bathroom mirror. 
You nod. He leans down, eyes on yours
“Say it,”he whispers hot in your ear. 
“Sushi,” you breathe out, suddenly so turned on. He kisses your cheek and goosebumps spring up on your arms. One of his hands is on your upper back and other on your hip bone.
“That’s a good girl.” In one motion, he pushes your torso  forward  and pulls your hip back towards him.  Manhandling you to be bent over, your arms splayed out on the counter. 
His right hand runs over your ass and between your legs. He does some trial pats on your pussy, but is not quite able to fully get to you the way he wants. 
 "Hmmm, that just won't do. You need to be a good girl and spread those legs wide for me and keep them there, so I can spank that pussy like it needs to be spanked. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His tone is serious and calm. 
You shake your head yes, neck craning just a bit to see him in the mirror. You step your feet apart.  
"Tell me, Angel." His hand lightly pats your exposed pussy. You moan. 
"Yes, Austin,” <pat> “I will keep my legs,” <Pat> “spread for you.” <PAT> “I will be good.” <slap>  
It feels so delicious, your moan comes out a higher pitch whine. 
“Wider,” he says, experimentally slapping your backside with a few light glancing blows that do nothing more than jostle your ass. 
“Yes Austin,” you say as you comply.
“That’s a good girl,” he grabs your cheeks in each hand, spreading them apart in his grip. It feels amazing to your pussy.
“Stick that ass back, I want to see that pretty pussy,” he instructs.
You push back. Arching your back in a modified down dog, you are no longer able to see his reflection.
<Slap>
“Oh fuck yeah!” he moans, almost to himself.
<Slap>
“God, that’s so pretty,” his fingertips dip into you and play wetly against your folds, up and down.  Your hips start to pulse back towards him. 
“Oh now darling, you better hold still, his finger casually slides inside your tight pussy, lightly fucking you. “You still need to be punished” his other hand kneads your butt, then slaps in that upward fashion that makes your cheeks jiggle. “Can you hold still?” 
“Yes Austin,” you say breathlessly, trying to freeze. 
He administers several light to medium slaps to your pussy. Each new slap is wetter than the one before. 
“What is fifty-two divided by four,” he asks while rubbing your pussy light and fast.
“Ooooohhh God! 13 or 14!” you moan out. 
“Which is it?” his middle finger starts slipping into you as he rubs. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking 13!” 
“That’s a smart girl.” he stops his rubbing, making you whine in protest, “that’s how many hard ones I’m going to give this pussy.” <SMACK!> 
You jerk, mostly in surprise, but it stings so good. 
“Count backwards, Princess”
“Thirteen,” you say.
<SMACK!>
“Twelve,” a little breathy.
<SMACK!> 
“Eleven.” 
<SMACK!> 
“Twelve,” you realize too late you went the wrong way. 
“Oh, no,  sweet Princess, now we have to start over” He rubs your pussy like he is erasing those slaps. “Again.”
<SMACK!>  
“Thirteen!”
 “Who does this pussy belong to?”<SMACK!>
“Twelve, you!”
 “Who?” <SMACK!> 
“Eleven, you Austin!”
“Austin who?” <SMACK!> 
“Ten,  Austin Fucking Bulter!” your teeth are clenched. 
“Say it right, hunny” <SMACK!>  
 “Nine!” you pant for a second,”This pussy-”
<SMACK!> 
“Eight,  belongs to”
 <SMACK!> 
“Seven, Austin Butler!”
“What a good girl you are for me. “ <SMACK!> 
“Six! I’m YOUR good girl, Austin,” it is feeling so fucking good, it’s hard to keep still.   
“Yes you are-”<SMACK!>
“Five,  all yours Austin, forever,” you are just responding to him without thinking. 
 <SMACK!> 
“Four!”
“No more fucking him, you understand?” <SMACK!> 
“Three, yes Sir,” the honorific just falling from your lips.
“He doesn’t take care of this beautiful tight little pussy.” <SMACK!> 
“Two,” your voice comes out as a whine, it feels so good. 
“He doesn't do my beautiful Princess right,  so he doesn't get to have it anymore. This is my pussy, mine.” <SMACK!> 
“ONE!” you shout! You don’t want him to stop. 
 It dawns on you, somewhere in the back of your mind, that it’s the first he’s used  that lovely possessive pronoun  since you admitted to having sex with your partner. You breathe a little sigh of relief as your hips buck as he rubs the length of his open hands along your lips. His fore and ring finger pressing hard on the outside of your lips making them pooch out. Your pronounced lips rub wetly against his middle finger, the tip of which lightly  grazes your clit. 
“You can jerk him off,” his torso pressing against your side as he leans down. “ you can suck… no wait… I’m going to claim that mouth as mine too,” his tone suddenly gravely with need. He takes a deep, controlling breath, ”but that will have to wait.” His fingers lightly pinch your nipples. His low voice in your ear and his words have you wild, he can have any part of you he wants. 
“What is 29 times 3?” he whispers, taking his hand completely off you. 
“More than 75, fuck please Austin, don’t stop.” your hips are shaking unabashedly, desperate for more. 
“Oh now we are getting somewhere,” you can hear the maniacal grin in his voice. 
He rubs both hands on either side of your pussy pushing your lips out and massaging deep.  He holds your puffy lips  between his fingers and thumb exposing your inner labia.  He  gives you a series of several fast, lighter smacks.
 As you dip your head low between your arms, your wordless moans sound loud to your ears. You can see strings of moisture pulling away from your pussy to his hand with each slap. Fuck you are so wet. 
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Austin oh GOD yes!” you chant, getting louder. 
He palms your pussy in his strong grip and vibrates. You are bent over, back arched, ass in the air, tits hanging down, fingertips digging into the countertop with Austin’s fucking gorgeous hand between your legs and your juices dripping from between his fingers. 
“Harder, oh god,  please!” you beg. 
You hear Austin moan in the back of his throat as he pulls away and slaps you harder once, twice, three times in quick succession. He lowers himself to get a better grip on your vulva and shakes you hard.  Oh holy fuck if feels amazing. You are shocked at how close to orgasm you are. 
“Please don’t stop, oh god please don’t!” your words come out between panting breaths. 
“Oh my darling Princess, I didn’t know you were such a sweet little slut for pussy slaps,” he slaps you again and again. 
“Oh god Austin, it’s so good.”  
He continues to shake your sopping pussy, interspersing hard slaps when he needs to reposition his grip.  
Suddenly and without warning, your orgasm overtakes you in a new way. Your body can't help but bolt upright to standing. Austin adjusts quickly, wrapping an arm around your torso locking you to him and reaching around to your front gripping and continuing to grab and shake. His palm roots around on your clit. 
“That’s it Princess, make my little pussy cum. Drench my hand with those sweet juices. Fuck yeah! You are so damn hot when you lose control. I fucking love it. I’m going to fuck you so hard after this you won’t be able to see straight,” his words are stream-of-conscious flowing out of him while he watches you in the mirror. And he just. Keeps. Going. He keep shaking your pussy.
Your whole body is reacting in spasm and jerks. Your pussy is pulsing on nothing, your legs are jell-o, your hands are gripping his arms, fingers digging in.
You are starting to lose your mind. 
“Please, just a second… I need…” you are panting. 
He turns you around and kisses you hard. His solid cock bouncing against you. 
He pulls you in your orgasmic delirium from the bathroom into his bedroom and almost tosses you down on the bed. 
“I’m not sure how slow I can go, you have me so fucking turned on right now, my Princess,” he warns, breath huffing from him as he crouches tiger-like at your feet.
God, how is he so fucking amazing? 
“Austin,” you open your legs to him, giving him the most salacious look you can muster, “just fucking get over here.” 
His smile is feral as he pounces quick as lightning between your legs, latching his mouth to yours in a desperate kiss.  You reach for his cock, helping to guide him as he pushes in faster than last time, but not as hard as you know he really wants to. You are so wet he glides, still stretching you, but gloriously so. 
He is propped up on straight arms, his back arching in that first quench of his cock in your pussy. His face is a cacophony of pleasure above you; his eyes are rolled back, mouth open with his breath coursing over that gorgeous bottom lip. 
“Oh christ, Princess!” he moans when he is balls deep in you, “my cock was made for this juicy pussy!”
“Oh my god Austin!” you love this, having a cock deep in you after an orgasm, “please Aus- Austin, please fuck me.”  Your hands clutch at his ass, feeling his muscles tight under your grip. 
He lowers to his elbows, head bowed to yours. 
“Your wish, baby,” he pulls nearly out, hips rising, ”is my command.” He thrusts in almost too hard… almost.  Without any more pre-amble than that, he starts driving himself in and out of you, 
Your back arches in pleasure, scrambling at his back and holding him to you. 
“Fuck me Austin, fuckme fuckme fuckme fuckme,” it comes out in a string without pause, a pleasure mantra just for him as he thrusts over and over again. 
He rises and catches your hands, and holds them down by your head, watching your face. 
“You cum first baby, you cum first,” he says, his jaw set in determination. Your whole pelvic floor feels like it’s buzzing. The slap of his hips against yours and the squishy wet sucking sounds are  fucking music to your ears. 
“Oh god, you fuck your pussy so good so good so good!”  The heat is rising in you, your chest turning red. He goes harder and faster, fucking you in earnest. God this man has some stamina, not only sexually, but physically as well, he’s barely winded. 
You freeze just before the heat overflows up your neck and into your face. Even your scalp is tingling, your neck muscles standing out as your pussy clenches down hard on him and your hips jerk upwards to meet his pounding cock. Your mouth opens in a silent ‘O”, until it’s not so silent. A scream rips through your body as a wave rushes up your spine. 
“That’s- my- fucking - girl!”  each growl of a word, staccato and punctuated with his cock. Then he totally lets loose. You thought he was fucking you hard before… he wasn’t. Now he is pummeling you into the bed, you can do nothing but moan in mindless pleasure as he drives himself to climax inside you, grunting throatily into your ear in ‘Mmmm’s and Unnghhs and ‘yeses’. Finally he pushes deep into your throbbing cunt, his ass shaking as he cums in you. You wrap your legs around his tight waist holding him to you as he shivers in bliss.
“Fuck, Princess, nobody has ever made me feel like you do, “ his forehead sweaty against your own. You are inhaling one another’s panting breaths. 
“Same baby, No one, ever,” you manage to get out. 
You lay there, him still inside you, cradling him on your body for several minutes, just basking in him. 
“I know that was supposed to be punishment, but holy fuck that was amazing,” you tell him.
“Oh sweetheart,” he disentangles himself and lays next to you, “I could never actually punish you. I don’t want to make anything REALLY hurt. Once I saw how wet it was making you… I just had to keep going. Fuck it was hot. I’ll have to do that again, if you want me to.” 
“Oh, yes, yes I do! I also liked you manhandling me like that,” you giggle just a bit, giddy that he wants more of you. 
He props himself up on an elbow to look down at you with a serious look on his face. 
“But I need you to know, I wasn’t playing. I am the only man who gets to fuck this pussy as long as you are MY Princess.” 
“I wasn't playing either, I meant it when I said 'this pussy belongs to Austin Butler’. Besides, you are the only man that has ever been able to make me cum like that, Austin,” you return his serious look. 
The smile that breaks out across his face and the huge relieved sigh he lets out is all the reply you need. He moves up on the  bed, sitting up slightly on the pillows. He puts out his arms and gathers you to him. You snuggle down into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you. It’s heaven. 
“Austin,” you say his name casually, although what you have to ask might be delicate.
“Yes, my Angel?” he replies in a relaxed tone. 
“How many women have you had in this bed?” You are mostly just curious, also kind of wanting to ask how often he does something like this. 
“This bed?” his finger pokes the comforter under you both, “None.” 
You sit up, looking at him, brows furrowed,  “None!?” your tone incredulous.
He pops one eye open, “Oh, excuse me. One, now, “ he closes his eye again,  but smiles coyly.
“Wait, what do you mean Austin, do you not usually bring your women here?” 
He opens his eyes, looking at you as though you are joking. 
“I don’t have ‘women’, Princess,” his head barley shaking side to side.
“Hold up, have you seen you? Gorgeous, talented, famous. Women fall over themselves to get to you. How is it possible that I’m the only woman you’ve taken to your bed?” 
“It’s not for lack of them trying. And I’m not saying I’ve not played around from time to time, I’ve lived life, y’know.  But this, here, this is my inner sanctum, Angel.  I don't let just anybody in my house, let alone in my bed, only my special girl. Only my Princess.” brushes a stray hair from your face, “and you have to remember, I’m a shy, introverted boy.” 
Your heart swells. The words ‘I love you, Austin’ are threatening to fall from your lips. But you won’t say it first. There is too much at stake here, so you bite your tongue. You pull yourself up to straddle his legs. On your knees, your head is bowed to his chest. You are afraid you’ll spill it all if you look right at him.  His hands go to your face, you can tell they are shaking a little. He tilts your head to look directly at him. 
“Princess, isn’t it obvious? You have to know that I’m falling for you,” his voice is quiet, lips slightly shaking. His azure eyes are searching yours for any sort of reciprocation. You can see he put himself out on the line saying that so soon. 
“Oh Austin,” your hand gently cups his cheek, gazing at him with infinite adoration, ”I’m so yours.” 
Your every sense is filled with Austin. His blue eyes fill your own; the scent of his skin and your love making fills your nostrils; every inch of your skin in contact with his is alight; his sonorous voice and your rapid heartbeat echoing in your ears; your mouth is suddenly on his, tasting the words off his tongue.  
As you lean into the kiss, his arms go around you, hands grasping, seemingly wanting to pull you under his very skin with desire. They roam your shoulders and massage down your back around your hips and to your front. 
He lets go of your mouth and leaves a trail of kisses down your neck to your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth, aided by his left hand, and sucks gently. Breath flows in silently through your open mouth as your chest swells towards him. You feel your pussy drip with new moisture. Your fingers weave through his messy hair, his fucking amazing hair.  His fingers trace down your belly and to your now drenched pussy, rubbing against your cum-soaked lips, delving gently between them, then pausing. 
“Can I?” he says around your nipple, looking up at you. 
“You’d better,” you say with a lift of your eyebrow. 
“Yes Ma’am,” he smiles.
He slips his skillful fingers inside you and returns his mouth to its work of licking and sucking. Tingly strands of sensation course their way from your nipples to your core. His long fingers press in, catching the filaments of pleasure and seemingly tethering them inside you. Then they curl knowingly, just so, to the spongy tissue just behind your pubic bone. His wet thumb nestles just above the hood of your clit, drawing slow figure-eights.
Your hips begin rolling against his hand before you even register they are moving. High-pitched, breathy Oh’s shake from between your lips, dissipating almost before they leave your mouth. You begin to be lost in his touch. 
His eyes are closed, taking his business seriously. Your wet pussy sounds are just barely audible.  You feel his cock hardening under you, your thighs teasing his shaft as you move. 
You gasp and clench down, pleasure spiking as he sucks just a little harder and his thumb darts across your clit. Your hands tighten, pulling his hair. 
How one hand and one mouth could make you feel so much you can’t even begin to fathom. Of course the fact that it’s Austin’s hand, well, enough said. 
The constant, perfect movement of his hand is winding you up so tight. The light nibble of his teeth against your sensitive nipple notching up each new degree of heat reached. Hot coils compress behind your clit, fanned by the quickened puffing of your breath. Austin’s fingers pull you tighter, tighter, and tighter still, showing no intention of stopping.
“God you are so fucking beautiful like this,” his dark eyes are shining up at you, mirrors of your desire.  
He takes his cue from the quickening of your pace to grind just a little deeper with his thumb, push just a little harder and faster with his finger until your body stiffens on the brink. Moments after your pelvis starts twitching over the point of no return.  His hand is gone, he tilts his hips, pushing you slightly up and sinks his cock into you as you roar out your orgasm. 
Now you are riding him, a bucking bronco. Hands on your hips, thumb still on your clit,  he is slamming in and out of you through your orgasm. The difference in sensation between his slow deliberate fingers and thumb, and his pounding cock sends you through the roof, boggling 
your mind. Your orgasm just keeps on going as he fucks you.
Your body, not one whit under your control, convulses right off of his cock and forward. Almost beaning him in the head. 
“Oh, no my Princess, you aren’t getting away that easily,” his hand is immediately rubbing your vulva, keeping you stimulated, the other is behind your neck, pulling your mouth to his. Your hips slowly push back, trying to avoid his hand, your knees bending. His cock brushes your lips, he thrusts in again and your body straightens again like he was burning hot. Austin’s hand is still playing with your clit.
“Oh, god Austin, I can’t! ” you hear yourself pleading, shaking your head. Of course, you don't want him to stop. 
"Look at me now,” his voice is commanding so that you can’t help but open your eyes to him. “My darling Princess,” he shifts to sweet and gentle, “I am right here, baby.” He is slowly pushing your hips back to meet his cock. “You can do this,” he is nodding and you mimic him, biting your lower lip. “Just look at me, my Angel," his tip sinks between your folds. 
Your whole body shudders in ecstasy as he sinks you on top of him, your groan is swallowed by his mouth on yours.  Then he moves in you again, his grip on your hips forcing you to take him deep again and again. Your hands are holding onto the headboard for dear life. Your head is shaking and you chant “no no no no no no!” Then your nod is almost a vibration up and down, “yes yes yes yes FUUUUUCKKK!” You peak up again, flooding him, dripping around his cock and down his balls.   You don’t see it, but his eyes go wide and he struggles to maintain control over his orgasm as your pussy clenches around his cock. His hips freeze, cock in you still. You break into a din of maniacal giggles just before he dives in lightly for your clit again, refusing to give you a moment of reprieve. 
“No nononono stop, I mean it!” you yell out. 
"Do you still remember what the safe word is?" Austin’s voice is quiet and calm.
“Yes, yes, yes I do,” your words gasping, moaning, whining.
"Mhmm, ok, then Angel."  His fingers draw sex runes on your clit as he thrusts into you. 
You lunge to the side, off of him and pull your knees up. Your body tries to protect itself from his insistent, delicious fuckery, while at the same time your mind is begging him to go harder, deeper, more. He is on you like a flash, his cock deep in you from behind, screwing you half blind. You want to say the word and hell no you won’t. 
"Ss- sss- ss-,” you shove your fist into your mouth, shaking your head, ”no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you say around your own knuckles, spit dripping down your wrist. 
 "What was that, darling?” his hands are on your ankles, prying them apart and pushing his hips between them so you can’t close them. 
“That doesn’t sound like your word, hunny,” his face looking down on you is an open book; kind, attentive, concerned about your deepest well being; while his fingers dance like the devil around your clit.   
It drives you absolutely wild, and he fucking knows it. You just grit your teeth, your head rolling violently side to side.The pleasure is just too much, you have to say it, you know he won’t stop until you do. Your back arches, tilting your head up, the war raging inside you. 
“SU- SU- SU-” you feel him slow slightly, anticipating, leaning down to kiss you. ”FUCK NO!” your hands as white as the sheets they are fisting into. 
“Oh Princess, that’s not it either,” he takes a big breath, planting a light kiss on your forehead. “Here we go,” his deep voice rumbling from his chest to yours.  His hands go to your shoulders. Gripping tight. You can’t tell what he’s about to do, until he’s pounding your pussy like a fucking freight train. 
“C’mon baby, you can do it,” his voice is low in your ear.  “You’ve been so good, taking it for me in that dripping pussy. But I can go all fucking night.” You realize that yes, yes he can. You can’t outlast him, he’ll fuck you through the night and into the next day.
You are thrashing under him, nails digging into his back.   His cock is filling you so fucking full over and over. You are screaming wordless screams into his shoulder. 
Finally you cave, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck SUSHI!! SUSHI!! AUSTIN FUCKING SUSHI!!” 
His hips slam once, twice more. His lips crush to yours, breath rushing into his nose, then he is moaning into your mouth. His hips shudder as he empties himself deep into you. You had no idea he was that close. God, this man.
“Oh sweet Angel, that’s my good girl,” he cradles your shaking head between his hands. 
You are a sopping mess, tears are coursing unbidden down your cheeks as you shake and shiver in overwhelm. He rolls to the side, sitting up and gathers you up, safe in his arms. 
“That was amazing darling, you are amazing.” he lightly kisses both your eyelids. 
“I am so proud of you, my Princess!” You took so much more that I thought you could.” 
He rocks you and pets you and calls you pretty. Once he knows you aren’t going to hyperventilate he reaches for a water bottle that sits on his bedside table. He pulls you to sitting and helps you take a drink. A drop escapes and trails over your chin and down your front. He catches it on his finger as you blow out a huge breath, rubbing your eyes. 
“Thank you, Austin. That was… fuckin’… wow,” you smile lopsidedly up at him. 
“You are most welcome, my special Princess,” he kisses your nose. 
You both exhale in perfect contentment and doze off, curled in each other's arms. 
 After a bit of a catnap, you both come to. He insists that he rinse you off in the shower. 
“I made you dirty, sweetheart. Plus it’s nicer to sleep clean.” 
 You brush your teeth and gather your hair up loosely on top of your head in two ponytails with additional  ties near the ends.  He is already in bed when you walk in from the bathroom, covers back and is waiting for you.
“Get over here my Sleepy Bunny with your two floppy ears,  I want goodnight kisses.” 
You crawl between the sheets and into his open arms. He plants kisses on your cheeks, your forehead and your nose before pressing his lips to yours with a little growl. 
“Goodnight my Sexy Bunny Princess Angel,” you can tell he is ready to conk out, exhausted.
“Goodnight my Amazing Sexy Austin,” you smile, you realize you are actually exhausted too. 
Snuggled together all clean and happy, if a bit overwhelmed, you both drift off, smiling like idiots.
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@meshlaxbunny gave me a lovely prompt and I intend to run wildly through the desert with it.
THE JOURNEY BEGINS UNDER THE CUT.
The second sun was just over the horizon when she arrived at the palace. Deliveries to the rear entrance, as usual. Her dewback’s saddle bags were heavy with all manner of meats, cheeses, breads, and produce. The sallyport door opened as she approached and a handful of familiar droids filed out ready to unload her cargo. She dismounted her dewback and pulled a trough of kitchen scraps from the inside of the sallyport, dragging it out to her dewback who scratched anxiously at the dirt in anticipation.
“Here ya go big boy,” she said softly, patting him on the shoulder as he munched gratefully at the contents of the trough. She pulled a water skin from her saddle and filled it at the rusty spigot just inside the sallyport. The ratcatcher droid tugged at her shirt to get her attention, then handed her a chunk of hearty, dense seedbread with a thick smear of salted butter.
“Thanks old buddy. Are you staying out of trouble?”
The droid nodded.
“Good. Keep it that way, little friend.”
The droid chirped and made its way back towards the kitchen.
She stepped outside into the soft warmth of the morning sun and sat cross legged against the palace wall, eating her bread and watching her dewback work his way through a week’s worth of scraps. She closed her eyes briefly and leaned her head back against the wall. She’d need to find a place to sleep soon. The overnight trip from the port at Mos Eisley wasn’t especially difficult or even dangerous, but it was exhausting. Maybe she’d camp on the outskirts of town or find a room at an inn with a stall large enough for her dewback - that would be a treat if she has enough credits.
She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps. A broad chested man in black stepped out of the sallyport. A guard she hadn’t met yet, maybe? He gave her a warm smile, which she returned if only at a dim wattage.
“How was the ride from Mos Eisley?” he asked.
“Oh, not so bad. Just long. It’s a good ten hours in the saddle.”
“Ah yes, a long time to be on the Dune Sea alone,” he replied, almost wistfully.
They were both quiet for a moment.
“Have you met the new Daimyo yet?” she asked.
He gave her another warm smile and stroked her dewback’s shoulder firmly, like someone who knew his way around large animals.
“I have not,” he replied.
“Ah well, he can’t be any worse than Jabba or Bib Fortuna.”
“Are you so sure?” he asked.
“I was a slave once, and now I am not,” she said, gesturing with open palms towards her dewback and the Dune Sea beyond. “Jabba was cruel, Bib Fortuna was weak. Perhaps this daimyo will be somewhere in between.”
“Perhaps,” he replied. “There are cots and fresh linens in the old slave quarters. You can stable your dewback in the hangar for the day and get some rest.”
“The new daimyo won’t mind?”
“I don’t think he’ll mind at all.” With that, he turned and walked back in to the sallyport.
She led her dewback to into the open hangar and, as her eyes adjusted to the dim light under the hangar’s dome, she saw a familiar ship.
The bounty hunter Boba Fett’s ship, a modified Firespray, almost seemed like an illusion. Wasn’t Boba Fett dead? She’d met him a handful of times when she still danced on a chain for Jabba’s amusement. She’d been glad to leave that life behind, but she remembered Boba Fett quietly slipping her a few credits here and there when he came around to take contracts from Jabba. Some of those credits went towards the purchase of her dewback - her means of making a living now that she was free. She raised her water skin to the ship and poured some water out on the floor before taking a sip.
“Wherever you are, Boba Fett, I hope it’s bright suns and cool winds.”
It needs a title, the dewback needs a name, and the main character needs a name. I’m open to suggestions! There will be eventual smut - but we need to get some momentum going first!
@daimyosprincess
@acatalystrising
@baufraus
@die-herzlos-engel
@dukeoftheblackstar
Am I missing anyone?
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rendy-a · 2 years
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Could we have Rook, Vil, and Sebek with a germophobe owner? They don’t force their pets to maintain the same exact level of cleanliness as themselves but the owner is the type of person who’d sanitize their gloved hands even if Mr. Clean gives them a high-five.
I had a lot of fun with this one.  Thank you for submitting your ask; I hope you enjoy it!
A Germaphobe Owner with Vil, Rook and Sebek
Your concern for cleanliness is extreme, perhaps too extreme.  To navigate the household situation with such a master is a touchy situation for a pet.  Who will choose to challenge the master’s outlook and who will fall right in line with their fears?  This is a companion fic to Aurora’s Pet AU.
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Vil doesn’t sugar coat things; you need therapy.  He insists you start seeing someone for your mental health at the soonest possible availability.  Honestly, he is very supportive of you.  Vil views self-improvement as one of life’s highest goals.  There is nothing wrong with seeking help to improve your health and Vil is fully ready to help you along with any “homework” the therapist gives you.
One of the first things your therapist suggests is that you try to become more comfortable with the idea of not being 100% clean.  Vil suggests you join him for his morning yoga routine.  You now join him daily to gently work out, side by side.  You work up a mild sweat and it is uncomfortable, but the meditative qualities of yoga also help you focus your mind from your grimy situation.  As soon as you finish though, its straight to a bath!
As a reward for completing your yoga, Vil also lets you join in on his daily facial.  Its personal cleanliness with a purpose.  Vil will personally customize a routine just for you.  He is very careful to pick out gentle products that won’t harm you with frequent use.  He is conscious that you might wash your hands or face several times during the average day.
Vil knows change doesn’t happen overnight.  Until you can overcome your phobia, he will help you along.  When you attend parties together, Vil will stay at your side.  He expertly deflects others from coming in personal contact with you.   Stepping forward to initiate a handshake in your place, a gentle hand on an elderly lady’s elbow to steer her away from your little personal bubble or stepping in front of you to block others from coming too close.  As a celebrity pet, he knows how to manage situations like these.  Just keep working on yourself and leave the rest to me, Master.
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Rook likes to observe people.  A master like you with such strange habits is truly a joy to him.  What an opportunity to see such unique things; the look the mayor gave you when he shook your hand and you immediately washed it with a disinfectant wipe.  Tres bien!  Sometimes, Rook might even stand by and allow you to encounter a mess, just to see how you behave.  Like that time you were carrying a bag of groceries inside when a gust of wind blew some dead leaves inside the house.  Sure, he could have closed the door before they reached it but watching you try to decide if you wanted to set the bag on the floor to chase out the leaves or put your things away first, Beaute 100%!
Rook knows where to draw the line between observing your struggles and taking action.  You don’t even realize it, but he routinely takes care of many alarming messes before you even notice them.  Like the day the local trees scattered pollen all over your car.  You walk outside to head to work, and Rook is just packing away the sponge and bucket.  Surprise!  He washed the car!  You’ll never need to know about the germ packed sight that would have awaited you otherwise.
Serving a beautiful master like you is part of what Rook considers his life’s works.  Even if he is a bit mischievous in watching you, he always helps in the end.  No task is too big or small for him.  He will help you dust the cans of soup in the cabinets with the same seriousness as cleaning out the gutters.  If you want to thank him, just keep him company.  When you recite him a poem you composed yourself (about cleaning), he is over the moon.  Whistle while you work.  What a lovely sentiment Master, I will hold it in my heart.
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Sebek stands before you like a knight prepared for battle.  In place of a sword and dagger, he has a plunger in hand and a feather duster tucked into his belt.  He is armored in an apron and yellow rubber gloves.  The battle of the bathroom is just beginning, and the villainous germs will be defeated!  You gaze at Sebek posing with determination in his eyes, and you know he is truly your own white knight.
Sebek has a duty, one he takes very seriously, and that duty is to fight grime.  He has a set schedule he keeps of patrolling the house to look for any potential germs.  No microscopic invader will escape his endless vigilance.  You are happy to finally have someone to share your concerns with.  Any strange idea you have about germs or cleanliness, Sebek will soak up like age-old wisdoms.  Please teach him more so he can do his duties even better!
When you must venture forth from your safe clean home, you always have Sebek accompany you.  He rushes to open doors and wipe down surfaces you must touch.  You know you are in good hands with Sebek around!  One day, he even jumped in front of you to protect you from a drooling dog dangerous beast in the neighborhood.  WORRY NOT MASTER, THE FOUL FIEND WILL TROUBLE YOU NO MORE!  He really is your hero.
Tags: @axulashengrotto
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feverishly-kpop · 2 years
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Ateez Performance Line - Part 5
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When Mingi woke up the following morning to the sound of his alarm, he immediately knew something was off. He absolutely understood why Wooyoung and Yunho seemed unable to think straight just before falling ill, feeling like somebody had switched his brain out with cotton overnight.
The timing of all of this, however, could not have been worse. Mingi was in the final push to finish the choreography, having just one song left to go. Simply put, he was out of options. He’d have to carry on the best he could.
After getting a few pain tablets down that he miraculously found in the bottom of his bag, Mingi glanced at his phone, his face lighting up at the text he found from Wooyoung:
“I’ll be back tomorrow, we can finish up together.”
Mingi smiled, feeling like a prayer had been answered, and, with that, he got to work.
*~*~*~*~*~
“Why would you tell him that in the first place?” Yeosang asked as calmly as he could. He knew that Wooyoung was drained after so many days of his temperature going up and down, seemingly unable to decide if it would break or not, leaving him feeling emotional, lethargic, and not in the most lucid state of mind.
“Because it was normal this morning” Wooyoung replied with a pout as Hongjoong draped a cool cloth over his forehead. He was too worn down to fight back any harder.
“That was hardly ‘normal’ for you, Woo, you never run quite that high. You’re usually on the lower side” Hongjoong said with a sigh, honestly feeling more pity for Wooyoung than frustration over the fact that he prematurely told Mingi he’d be back to work tomorrow. The doctor that had come to check on the two sick dancers had told them that this strain of the flu came along with a particularly persistent fever that would take up to a week or more to break, much to the chagrin of Wooyoung and Yunho, who were really feeling it’s effects.
“Can you text him back and tell him that I won’t be there tomorrow?” Wooyoung whispered as he rolled over, his back to Yeosang and Hongjoong. He wiped a tear from his eye before speaking up again. “And that I’m really, really sorry.”
“Of course, Wooyoung. It’s going to be fine, just get some sleep, I think you’ll feel better after a nap. You look exhausted” Hongjoong replied, pulling the blankets up over his feverish dongsaeng. With Wooyoung already falling asleep Hongjoong and Yeosang stepped out to allow him to rest.
“He’s having a hard time with this” Yeosang said sadly, getting a nod from Hongjoong in response.
“He’ll be okay, he just needs a few more days” Hongjoong replied, trying to reassure Yeosang, who was also very clearly having a hard time with the situation.
They both turned as they heard Yunho’s door quietly open and close, revealing Seonghwa and San looking just as tired as Hongjoong and Yeosang were feeling.
“Yunho’s a trooper, but this has been brutal for him. He’s having terrible fever dreams but he’s asleep again, for now at least” Seonghwa sighed as San asked about Wooyoung.
“His fever’s back up…” Hongjoong began, tentatively adding “…and he told Mingi he’d be back tomorrow to finish up.” Seonghwa and San groaned quietly in response to that and Hongjoong pulled out his phone, trying to figure out the best way to let Mingi know that he’d be on his own until he finished.
*~*~*~*~*~
Mingi quickly paused the track that had been blaring through the studio upon receiving a notification from Hongjoong. He had been eagerly awaiting the details of Wooyoung’s return to work all morning. But once he opened the text his face fell with disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Mingi. Woo’s temp is back up. He feels really badly for misleading you.”
No further explanation was needed, he knew what that meant and replied back:
“It’s okay, tell him that I hope he’s feeling better soon.”
Mingi tossed his phone aside as he leaned against the mirror, slowly sliding down to the floor. He was already feeling poorly but he knew it was just a matter of time before the full impact of the flu hit him and time simply wasn’t something that was on his side at this point. He had planned on taking the next two days to finish the last song but he was beginning to think that he’d be better off pushing through to the end before he couldn’t work at all anymore. As far as Mingi was concerned Wooyoung had put in a full day of work in his condition, there was no reason for him not to do the same.
As the day wore on Mingi couldn’t help but feel extremely guilty for the way that he had spoken to Wooyoung before they had realized that he was coming down with something. He felt completely disoriented, repeatedly losing his train of thought before he had a chance to jot it down. He worked straight through the day without a break for lunch but he couldn’t ignore the pangs of hunger coming from his stomach, and he couldn’t quite shake the dull lingering sensation of nausea that had been coming and going in waves throughout the day.
Hongjoong had popped his head in a few times, once again sneaking away from doctor and parent duties at their apartment. He had asked Mingi if he wanted to grab something to eat earlier that afternoon but Mingi declined, advising Hongjoong that he had already eaten, which was a lie. Hongjoong circled back a few hours later, offering to order Mingi some food before he went home for the night but, once again, Mingi bent the truth with his response, saying that he’d be taking a break shortly, once he had finished the section he was working on.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Mingi sighed. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. He contemplated trying to have a light meal before deciding against it. He only had a couple sections left to go. Three hours of work tops. And, frankly, leaving the company at 11:00 PM wasn’t so bad. At least he’d be going home for the rest of the night after having been living at work for the past few day.
Mingi’s body, however, had other ideas. Three hours turned into five before he dropped to his knees as the music ended abruptly. A wave of relief came over Mingi, finally able to take a breath after finishing the choreography for the last song. That wave of relief was quickly followed by a wave of nausea that hand him back on his feet and to the nearest washroom before the small amount that he had managed to eat and drink that day made a reappearance. He stayed there for a few minutes, wanting to be sure that the nausea had passed before returning to the dance studio to figure out what to do next.
None of Mingi’s options were ideal. At 1:00 AM it felt out of the question to call a member for a ride. He was fully aware of how exhausted everybody was from caring for Wooyoung and Yunho as Hongjoong had mentioned how nobody was getting much sleep back at home with Wooyoung and Yunho hardly able to get out of bed themselves. Mingi internally cringed at the thought of inevitably getting that sick but tried not to think about it too much. His present concern was just getting himself home.
The only other option was to walk which, on a normal day, would be no issue. But there was nothing normal about the way that Mingi couldn’t stand without swaying on his feet and how his head felt like it had been replaced with a boulder. As much as he hated the idea he really had no choice, pulling out his phone and scrolling through the contacts before landing on Seonghwa and texting:
“Hyung, can you come get me?”
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uptoolateart · 2 years
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All That Is Necessary - Ch 3
Co-Written with @raspberrycatapult​​
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PREVIEW from Chapter 3:
He looked at the screen, reading the words – and his breath caught.
N – thank you for your latest update on F and the others. It only seems to confirm my worst suspicions, especially after the recent incident with A. After all this time, I fear that all those stories about the Grimoire and the box may have not been merely myth, after all. I don’t mind sharing with you that all of it weighs heavy on the heart of this ageing man who thought his heart had turned to stone the day of E’s accident. If A is indee –
The email halted there.
‘He must have…vanished right here,’ Marinette said in a soft voice.
‘…yeah.’
Gabriel Agreste was gone. And probably so was Nathalie.
The reality of it pummelled his chest, at last. The room was spinning and he had to prop himself up on the podium.
‘Is A you?’ Marinette asked. ‘And maybe N is Nathalie and E is….’ She trailed off there, as if realising maybe his mother’s death two-and-a-half years ago wasn’t something to talk about. ‘But who is F? Or “the others”? And what’s a Grimoire? Does any of it make sense to you?’
He shook his head – too fast, only making himself dizzier. Hoping she didn’t read the lie in his eyes – he who so adamantly opposed dishonesty of any kind. Because he didn’t have answers to all of her questions, but he knew exactly what ‘the recent incident with A’ was and he…needed to get Marinette out of the mansion before she could work it out herself.
As if reading his mind, she said, ‘I…I guess now we know we won’t find anyone here. Maybe we should go to your room and pack up whatever you want to get and go meet Alya and Nino in the park.’
‘Great idea – but how about I go and you just…wait here or something?’
Her mouth fell open. ‘On my own? Um…well…to be honest…this place kind of gives me chills. It’s like I can feel his presence even when he’s not here, and….’ She rubbed her arms like she really was cold.
Adrien sighed. ‘I…I know what you mean. Even when I’m away from him, I feel like he’s hovering.’ There was no way out of what was coming. The only choice was to give her some story straight away. Something she might maybe – possibly – potentially – hypothetically – theoretically – believe. ‘I’m just a little embarrassed about my room.’
‘I’ve been in your bedroom before.’ Her cheeks went pink. ‘I mean…not often, of course, but –’
‘I know you have. But, um…. See, there was this fire –’
‘You weren’t in it at the time, were you?’ Her eyes went wide with alarm. ‘You didn’t get hurt?’
He blinked. ‘No. Marinette, you’re looking at me. I’m fine.’
‘Oh. Of course.’ She let out an awkward laugh.
‘It’s just…the damage hasn’t been repaired yet and there’s this door that’s….’ He sighed. ‘Just…yeah, let’s go.’
He grabbed his father’s tablet, then led the way again, this time out of the office and across the mansion, to his room, which seemed to have been positioned as far away from his father’s quarters as it was possible to be in the building. He held his breath as he opened his bedroom door and let her in.
If he’d been able to hide the destruction, he wouldn’t have told her that ridiculous story. But it was staring them both in the face as soon as they went in – almost a whole bathroom door conspicuously absent.
Of course, she went right up to it, inspecting the damage. ‘How strange.’
He busied himself with packing the tablet and some of his clothes into a large overnight bag. ‘It’s not that strange. Fires happen.’
‘But there doesn’t seem to be any damage to the surrounding area. It’s like the fire only happened on this door.’
‘Yeah. It was crazy. Never seen anything like it.’ He felt her stare on his back but didn’t turn around.
Because he’d just told her another lie. He had seen something like it before – not once but several times. And it hadn’t been a fire. 
It had been him.
Keeping Reading at Ao3
‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.’
One moment, Ms Bustier is there. The next - Poof. Gone. And she’s not the only one.
An impenetrable dome has come down over central Paris, and everyone over the age of 14 has disappeared.
Now, it’s up to Adrien, Marinette, and their friends to find a way to survive. And as more and more kids start to manifest unnatural abilities, they will learn that a dark power has been right under their feet all along.
** An AU inspired by the ‘Gone’ series by Michael Grant, adapted heavily to a Paris setting and the Miraculous character set. PLEASE READ TAGS. Rating: Teen+ **
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Chapter 12: The Long Road
July 4th, continued
It doesn’t take us long to pack … all of us have been living on the go, so to speak, for months, so we have our own “go-kits” … but we’re not leaving until tomorrow morning anyway.  The Salems insisted that we stay through the night, for my sake.
I have my overnight bag assembled, ready to go.  I set it just outside my room, allowing a stuffed hawk to guard it, eternally in descent toward prey that has long since disappeared.  Surprisingly, there’s not a lot of people mulling about.  I can’t even find William, as prone as he is to clinging to me like a loyal puppy.
“Anyone here?  Michi?  William?”
No one.  I’m on guard, and my hand is on the Sword, when I venture down the hallway toward the dining room.  My stomach’s growling: dinner will feel good, then I can resume searching for my friends.
William suddenly appears in my path.  Much to my surprise, he picks me up and carries me in his arms, walking through the doorway into the dimly-lit dining room.
“William, what’s up?  What are you doing?”  I’m laughing, but at the same time I’m a little worried.
“You’ll see.”  He simply grins.  The ride in his arms only lasts until he can carry me to the center of the room.  Once my feet hit the floor, the lights are thrown on at full power.
Dear God in Heaven, it’s a surprise party!  Amidst the bellows of “SURPRISE!” and the singing of “Happy Birthday,” I try to locate all of my friends.  Fortunately, it doesn’t take long: Michi and her parents are parting the crowd, carrying a large sword-shaped sheet cake, with Fahaian and Grandmother behind them.  William still stands behind me, gently urging me forward.
Sixteen candles.  Fahaian flicks his lighter, and the candles instantly start glowing, all at once.  Everyone around us cheers this trick.
William’s face is right by my ear.  He warmly whispers, “make a wish, Alanna.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.  What should I wish for?
I wish my family will be back together soon.
The air I’ve been holding in my lungs gets a quick journey out, extinguishing all sixteen candles in one puff.  Another cheer.  More smiling faces.  A gentle hug from behind by William.
You’d think we were normal people.
The party goes on for a long while, right up to midnight.  During the festivities, I learn a lot about many of the refuge’s supernaturals, many of whom already know me.  Some of them seem to have utterly useless powers, such as the man who was able to talk to amphibians (“Call me Frog-Boy, everybody else does”), or the woman who lays eggs that contain various vintages of wine (“I used to be really popular at parties, believe me”).  Others, I can understand why the New Empire might be afraid of them, since they have useful, offensive powers, ranging from explosive long-distance flatulence (“Just don’t stand behind me after I eat a bowl of baked beans”) to the Olympic javelin-thrower with a rubberized arm (“They could’a let me keep my gold medal, y’know, because it’s not my fault I’m a human slingshot”).
I mentally catalog every person’s power.  Later tonight, I’ll write down the whole list before I go to bed, that way I won’t forget.  I’ll need as many soldiers as I can get when the time comes.
When the blueshirts fall.
The party’s winding down, as many of the revelers are heading to bed.  A few of them are actually going through the Avalon portal tonight, so this doubles as their farewell party.  Michi comes over to my side, as I sit down to my third piece of birthday cake.
“Hey girl, I hope this is good enough of a party for you.  Sorry we don’t have any gifts …”
I shake Michi’s shoulder.  “Being with you guys … having you guys do this for me is the greatest gift I could get this year.”  I hug her gently.
William, in the corner of the room, has his guitar again and is playing, something lively.  Fahaian, looking nervous as hell, walks up to us and holds his hand out …
… to Michi.
“Would you care to have this dance, my lady?”  He has that charming smile on his face again, but it doesn’t hide his nerves, because I can see those in his eyes.
Michi looks over at me, like she’s asking permission.  Not like it really matters that much to me.  I simply nod quietly.
She looks up at Fahaian and gives him probably the warmest grin she’s given him since the night they first met.  “What the hell, sure.”  She takes his offered hand.  He helps her to her feet and leads her to the open space on the floor, where they begin dancing.  William, still playing, smiles at the two of them, much the same way I am I suspect.
Their dance is humorous, but also cute.  It’s obvious that Michi’s not much of a dancer, because she keeps stepping on Fahaian’s feet.  For his part, the prince is very patient with her, twirling her around, making her giggle.
Michi never giggles, unless she’s doing something violent.
I watch them for a while, and my focus shifts between the two of them dancing and William playing his guitar.  I could just grab him and dance with him right now …
I think that’s what this birthday girl’s going to do.  I stand up and cross the floor, coming up to right in front of William.  I hold out both of my hands to him.
“Let’s dance!”
He looks up, grins widely, and sets down the six-string.  By now, other people who can play are around him, their own instruments improvising a cheerful dance number.  I think William’s relieved by this, as he stands up and takes me in his arms again.  Before long, we’re dancing right alongside Michi and Fahaian.
There’s a lot of happiness in the air right now.  Desperate happiness.
After a few dances, the party finally breaks up.  Some of the musicians remain in the room, having an impromptu jam session, while the others make their way either out of the Ranch house or back to their respective rooms.  William escorts me down the hallway, and I sneak a look back to see Michi and Fahaian.
They’re holding hands.  She has her head on Fahaian’s shoulder, very familiarly.  Quite a difference from the first few months he was here.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?”  William’s question snaps me out of my reverie.
“Oh yeah.  Opposites attract, right?  They used to be at each other’s throats all the time … now look at them.”
There’s a wide smile on William’s face.  “I can understand how he feels.  How they feel.”
Now my attention is fully on William.  Reality is starting to settle into my mind.  “You know, when we leave here, that’s it.  We’re on our own.  Our friends won’t be able to help us, unless we can get back here.”
He nods gently.  “That’s why I wanted to do this for you.”
Now my eyebrows are raising.  “The party was your idea?”
“Michi and Kitty told me about what your birthdays used to be like on the rez.  So I improvised one for you.”
My face feels hot.
“Happy birthday, Alanna.”  He lowers his face and places the gentlest, most loving kiss I’ve ever had on my lips.  Soon my arms are around his shoulders, because my heart is wishing this moment can last forever.
~~~~
July 5th
I’m glad we had the party last night, because thus far the trip’s been utter hell.
We left early this morning, with a lot of cheering from everyone around the refuge.  Michi had a cursory once-over from her dad before she climbed into the truck.  As usual, Gabe’s at the wheel, but the truck’s a little overstuffed, now that our travelling party has nearly doubled.
One thing that surprised me before we left was that Grandmother asked to talk to me privately.  When I consented and we moved away from the group, she handed me a small card.
“Keep this with you, Alanna, and think of us.  You’ll always be home and in the heart of love when you do.”  And then she hugged me, with tears in her eyes again.
Who is her daughter, and why am I a reminder of her?
I have the card in my pocket.  Every so often, when we have a peaceful moment, I’ve been pulling it out and reading it.  It has a short, beautiful prayer printed on it:
-Lord in Heaven, Creator of Earth
-Remind me what in life has worth
-Family, friends, all those I love
-My shelter ‘til I meet You above
-And keep me safe ‘til the day when
-I see them again, in Your name, Amen.
Peaceful moments, though, have been very few and far between in the first six hours of the trip.  We’ve already had to fight our way through three blueshirt checkpoints, and it’s pretty much guaranteed that we’re going to encounter way more, as word reaches the others that we’re out here.
Speak of the devil … there’s another line of blueshirt cars blocking the road.  Chimney Rock rises behind them, taunting us.  My hand’s on the Sword already.
“Play it cool, Alanna,” Gabe admonishes.  “We don’t know if they know we’re us.”
“And the other checkpoints wouldn’t describe our car?” Michi angrily demands.
“Point taken.  Let’s just play it cool for now, let’s see what happens.”
It doesn’t take long to find out what happens.  As soon as they have us in their sights, the blueshirts open fire.  Hopefully we won’t need to take too long to clear these people out … and hopefully no supernaturals will be in the mix.  We all pile out of Gabe’s truck, hiding behind the doors and letting them take the brunt of the gunfire aimed at us.
Michi is powering a spell behind me: I can feel the glow against my back.  Behind her, I hear the growling that comes with William’s transformation. 
Better give them some cover.
When the gunfire slows down … probably for reloading … I peek my head around the corner.  The churning starts in my stomach, the churning I’ve been learning to control.  It eventually erupts.  I firecast toward the blueshirts, and watch them scatter.
Next thing I see is Fahaian, emerging from my fire stream and getting his martial arts kicks on.  Several of the blueshirts fall away from him.  Others are running … running for their cars, to run him over.
Michi stops that with a spell launched over my shoulder.  The blueshirt car with the revving engine has a catastrophic failure, exploding before it can even get moving.  Fahaian looks back over at us and flashes a thumb’s-up.
William’s turn, now.  More blueshirts are starting to approach, and another three cars’ worth of backup has arrived.  The wendigo is completely loosed, stampeding toward the massing forces.  I’m right behind him, getting ready to pull out the Sword.  The hilt’s in my hand …
A stabbing pain hits me in the small of my back.  My legs lose any and all strength, and I collapse under my own weight.  The Sword remains in its scabbard as I catch a mouthful of dirt.  I’m not so concerned about that right now, though.
I’ve been shot.  Again. 
After the initial shock of the strike, though, I’m finding that my legs are coming back to me.  I can still move them: after slapping my thigh I realize I still have feeling.  Michi and Gabe run up behind me: as Michi provides a shield for him, Gabe reaches me and places both hands on my back.
“What is it?  What happened to me?”
I feel a different pain, a stinging pain.  Then Gabe comes around to where I can see him.  “I don’t know if this is a joke or not, but …”
He’s holding a tranquilizer dart.  “Who shot me?!”
“I don’t know.  I’ll check this out later, for now let’s get you out of the line of fire.”
“Gabe, I’m fine.  I don’t feel like I’m getting knocked out, just a little shocked.  I’m going in!”
Gabe tries to stop me, but I’m too fast for him.  I’m running up to cover William’s back, Sword and wings out.  Once the Guardswoman is present, I flap my wings to lift off and speed toward the battle.  The weapon swings freely through the assembled blueshirt forces, cutting up cars and just missing the men in the uniforms.
Something’s different this time …
I still have control over the Guardswoman: the power is remaining under rein.  Thank you, Durga!  But something else is weird.  I feel like I have too much energy.
Aren’t tranquilizers supposed to knock you out?
My excess energy is translating into the Guardswoman, fighting more fiercely … more mercilessly.  It’s not long before the Sword tastes blueshirt blood.
Not the pawns!  They’re not worth it!
I’m quickly losing control again.  Before the Guardswoman takes another life, I force her to sheathe the Sword.  I’m back to myself, but I still have the bloodlust.  I grab a blueshirt and throw him … literally … over the top of his car.
William notices my anger, despite the wendigo, and rushes over to help me (stop me?).  I don’t seem to want to be stopped, though, and I keep tearing through the blueshirt lines, flapping to hover over them, firecasting with abandon.
There’s a taloned hand grabbing my ankle and yanking me down to the ground.  I look and see the wendigo.  Even without William’s eyes, the beast looks concerned.
“What’s … wrong … Alanna?”
I can’t tell him.  I can’t articulate what’s going on, although I can tell it’s taking all of William’s concentration to make the wendigo talk.  As this conversation goes on, though, an older blueshirt approaches us, weapon raised.
“Freeze right there!  Hands up!”
We see him, white hair in a ponytail behind his blue collar, blue eyes set in stone, his weapon leveled at us.  He can’t hold it too steadily, and the end of the barrel jiggles around at random.  Just as suddenly as he corners us, though, his face gets this unusual look.
He’s looking at me.  At my chest.  I feel really self-conscious about this pervert checking me out.  His mouth opens, and his words change my mind about him.
“Vibria?”
He spotted Mom’s maiden name on the shirt.  Who is this guy?
Some more blueshirts are coming our way.  We don’t have time to discuss things, but I need answers.  I grab the older blueshirt’s wrist and drag him down to face level with me.  “You’re coming with us, buddy.  Any complaints, take it up with him.”
He looks over at William, then back at me.  My nose is smoking.  I think we have compliance.  I stand up and drag him back to Gabe’s truck, with William, coming out of his wendigo form and gnawing on more moose jerky, behind us.
Gabe has a quizzical look on his face as we approach and throw the guy into the back with Michi and Fahaian, who clutch him tight as William climbs in. 
“I didn’t realize we’re taking prisoners now.”
I shoot a sharp glare at Gabe.  “This one’s different.  I want some answers.  Just drive, I’ll take care of him.”
Gabe shrugs and starts the truck up, continuing on the road to Wisconsin.  I’m not quite concerned about the driving right now, as I turn around and confront the blueshirt.
“All right, start talking.  Who are you?”
The blueshirt is ever defiant.  He glares at me.  “What are you doing with that name on your clothes?”
“That’s irrelevant!”
He grits his teeth.  “Then I’m not telling you shit, lady.”
My nostrils are smoking again.  I growl audibly.  “If you must know … it’s my mother’s maiden name.”
His eyes widen.  I hear a quiet whisper.  “Shanee …”
My eyes narrow.  “No.  Ariel.”  I have a sneaking suspicion …
The blueshirt’s face softens considerably.  I think he’s about to cry.  He’s starting to make me sympathize with him, and then he unloads the coup de grace.
“All these years … I thought I would never have any knowledge of that time again, never see any sign of it.”  His voice quavers.  “My name is Julian Vibria.  I think I’m your grandfather.”
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sugarbooger513 · 3 years
Text
Mine (Stepbrother!ChosoxFem!Reader)
This is my collaboration piece for @severelytalentless Are You Afraid of the Dark collab! I had a lot of fun writing this... work. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my very amazing friends who helped me out during this piece, especially my wifey @kentosovertime and my bestie @roughwithfluff. It wouldn't have ended up as well written as it did without the help.
Warnings: stepcest, possessive nature, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), oral (fem receiving), spit, Choso slaps reader in the face like once, he also slaps in another place, daddy kink, dom Choso, Choso is very petty, mentions of cheating ex, mentions of alcohol and nicotine consumption, degradation, praise, slight breeding kink if you squint
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"Don't bother calling me anymore! I see what's more important to you.." You hang up your cell phone and throw it across the room. Your bed feels colder than it usually does, but you lay on it anyways, allowing your tears to flow onto your pillow.
Your boyfriend, now ex, of two years had called you with a plea, begging for your forgiveness. How could you forgive him, though? When you heard about your best friend sleeping with him, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You knew she thought he was attractive, but there was never a worry in your mind that either of them would take it anywhere.
You sit up, suddenly realizing that he would be on his way home from work in an hour, maybe two. You had to leave before he got home. It wasn't like you feared he would hurt you for leaving him, but he would certainly try to guilt you into staying with him.
Your heart rate increases when you realize that you have no idea where you can go. He knows all of your family, and is pretty loved by all of them. Your stepmom even has the habit of calling him her son. 'Her son...'
You rush to grab your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. If there's one person in your family you can call, it's the one he's scared of.
"Y/N," your step brother lets out a long yawn after answering, "what's up?" "B-bubs.." You can hear him drop something on his end. "Honey, why are you crying?" "He.. he cheated on me.. with her.. you were right.."
Choso bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly enraged at the thought. He never liked that guy. When they first met, Choso punched him in the jaw for being an asshole. You were mad at him at the time, but eventually understood why he did it. Since then, your ex was too scared to look Choso in the eyes.
Still, he now finds himself smiling.
"I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?" Your sniffle makes him clench his fist. "He's going.. to be home s-soon." "Drive over here. I'll set up the guest-" "C-can you get me..? I don't want him tracking my car.."
Your pitiful voice goes straight to his crotch. Even though no one else is at his home, he finds himself trying to conceal his half hard cock with the kitchen counter.
"Of course, honey. Pack a bag. I'll be there in twenty." "I-I love you, Choso.. thank you." He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "I love you too, honey."
When he hangs up, he groans loudly and places his head on the cool marble. "Okay," he talks to himself aloud, "just.. keep yourself in control. You got this, Choso. She's your step sister, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, grabbing his keys.
Still, he can't deny the things you do to him. It makes him feel terrible, but you're so damn tempting. He always figured that your hugs would last a little too long, your eyes scanned him a little too much, your hands lingered on him a little too suggestively.
He knew better, though. Your teenage years were spent on tons of dates with guys who were the complete opposite of your stepbrother. He would sit in his bedroom, no doubt on a video game, while he listened to guy after guy go in and out of your bedroom. It wasn't like you were a whore.
Those guys just eventually showed their true colors.
He knows that when you love, you love with your entire heart. That's why he was there for you through every heartbreak. He would hold you for hours, dry your tears with his own shirts, make you your favorite snacks, take you on long walks so you weren't cooped in the house all day.
Why? Well, because in his mind you already belonged to him.
You pace your living room, already holding your overnight bag in your hand. Of course, you'll probably stay with Choso more than one night, unless your dad tells you to stay with him and your stepmom instead.
Who are you kidding? If Choso offers to let you stay longer, you would much rather stay there.
Your front door opens, and you jump in fear that your ex came back early. "Shhh, honey it's me." "C-Cho.." Choso walks across the room in quick strides to pull you into his strong embrace.
His hands gently cradle you against his body. "He doesn't deserve your tears Y/N. Don't give him the satisfaction." "Y-you tell me that after every breakup, Choso.." "I know. That's because none of them deserve your kindness."
You close your eyes and feel yourself relax in his strong arms. He's never let you down. Choso has been the only guy in your life to prove he would always be there for you. You truly trust him with your life.
That being said, you can't ignore the feelings that have formed over the years for your stepbrother.
Your fingers grip his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. He sighs softly and buries his face in your hair. "Is there anything I can do for you, Y/N?" "Just... don't leave me. Please?"
His heart pounds in his chest at your feeble plea. His throat seems to dry, so he can't manage to speak. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he clears his throat.
"You know I won't, Y/N. I never have." "And never will?" His large hands squeeze your body a bit harshly, but your breath only increases at the feeling.
"I never will. Now, why don't we get you loaded into the car and get you home?" You finally pull away, blinking your still teary eyes at him so innocently. "Home..?"
The look on your face has his body on fire. You look so damn innocent, just like an angel. They're still red and puffy from your crying, but that only has him straining in his pants.
The things he would give to take the innocence from your face this second..
"Of course. My home is yours for as long as you need." He jingles his keys in an attempt for you to hurry and follow.
"What.. what about as long as I want..?"
That sentence has him blushing furiously. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
"Of course. You're family and I love you, so my home is yours. We should go though. I don't want to-" His sentence is cut short when you wrap your small arms around his frame.
"Cho.. you're the only person in my life that cares this much.." "Don't say that, princess. You know that isn't true." His large hands are so gentle as they rub your back comfortingly. The small action has your heart pounding.
It also has your core burning for more.
"I-I want to stay with you." "Princess, then why are we still here?" There's a hint of laughter in his teasing tone. "I mean.. stay with you." You bury your face in his broad chest, hoping desperately that he gets the hint.
And oh boy does he ever. He can't help the small groan that escapes his throat at the mere thought.
"Y/N.. you don't mean that." You finally look up, shocked at the tint of rosiness on his usually pale cheeks.
"I-I do mean it.. You're the only guy who has ever-" "I'm family." "Not blood. D-Don't act like you don't feel the same Choso!" His eyes widen, and your accusation has him backing away from you, causing your hope to falter. Had you been mistaken this entire time? Had the stares and lingering touches really just been his own way of showing platonic affection.
"Choso.. I-" "Am I truly that obvious, Y/N?" You blink once, twice before giggling softly. "Y-yeah.. have I not been?" "No. Your.. attention always seemed to be on others. I just assumed.. you saw me as your big brother." You shake your head, walking slowly to stand directly in front of him again.
You've always thought his eyes were gorgeous, a slight grey tint over the almost golden color, they truly are their own unique shade, but right now they seem even brighter.
"I.. I was scared. People would.. call us freaks if anything came of any attraction to each other. I mean.. we've known forever that we weren't related, but our parents have been married-" "Going on ten years now. Even dated for five years before that. Trust me," his hand reaches to touch your cheek gently, as if he's afraid he could break you, "I've been bouncing the pros and cons in my head for so many fucking years."
Your cheek fits so easily in his palm, as if it was made to be there. "So.. who gives a damn about the cons anymore?" His eyes darken at your words, suddenly not focused on your gaze, but your lips. "I don't think I do, Princess." He suddenly turns the two of you, pressing your body into the wall that was originally behind him.
His lips hover centimeters over yours, making you whimper pathetically. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, Y/N." His lips turn at the corners, making the already handsome guy seem even more so. Your hands reach out, gripping the loose t-shirt he's wearing tightly. "I-I need you, Cho. P-please?"
"Well, why don't we take this little.. fiasco to my place?" "No." He tilts his head in confusion as you smirk. "Fuck me on his bed.. onii-chan."
His lips are on yours the instant that word leaves your mouth. Despite the fact you're almost certain that Choso doesn't know what lip balm is, his lips are so plush and soft. It catches you off guard, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.
He isn't shy about exploring your body either. His hands grab every bit of plushness they can. Your hips, thighs, ass, until he finally reaches your breasts. His hands squeeze them harshly, not caring about any actual pain he could bring. You gasp in the kiss, which allows his tongue to finally invade your mouth, easily taking over as the dominant one.
He tastes faintly of cheap wine and cigarettes, but that doesn't shock you. You've spent multiple nights in his room smoking and drinking after rough breakups.
You have to smack at his shoulder a few times before he pulls away, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. He lets out a deep growl before grabbing your arm to yank you upstairs.
He kicks the bedroom door open, not caring about possibly busting the damn thing. "I have waited for so fucking long," he shoves you onto the queen sized bed that you once shared with your ex, "to have you all to myself. Now that I have you..." He pulls the shirt over his head, causing your eyes to shamelessly wander over his toned body. He catches your gaze, causing him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. "Oh I am never letting you out of my grasp now, little one."
You sit up and, without a second thought, throw your shirt off and into the floor. "A bit possessive, are we?" He chuckles a bit darkly. "I don't see you complaining. Besides," he rips your pants off in one fluid motion, purring at the dark spot already staining your panties, "it seems you know who you belong to." His head is almost instantly between your legs, his hands shoving your thighs open effortlessly.
He licks a long stripe up your covered slit, causing you to mewl. "Go ahead, princess, tell me exactly who owns you." This time he places a small kiss just over your clit. "F-fuck, you!" "Hmmm," his hand comes down to smack your pussy with an unnecessary amount of force. "Not good enough. Try again." He lands another smack, this one making tears prick your eyes.
"W-what do y-you want-" you cry out as he lands two more smacks on you. The pain is startling at first, but it quickly has you moaning in pleasure. "How about that fun little nickname you've given so many men that have entered your bedroom?" You squeak, making him chuckle. "Oh come on, there's no way you thought I never heard you. Always had the fucking nerve," another smack, this one even harder, "to cry out for other men while I was in my bedroom dreaming of making those pretty eyes cry in my bed. Come on, call me that sweet little name and I'll fuck you better than any of those assholes could have."
The last smack has you screaming, and you can't seem to care that any of your neighbors could hear. "D-Daddy! Y-You own me! I-it's always been you, I swear daddy! P-Please fuck me, I-I need it!"
He groans loudly before ripping your panties from your body. "I'll have to remember that you beg beautifully once I get you home." Two of his fingers spread you apart, and he smirks at the puddle of essence already pooling on the bed. "So fucking wet for me, aren't you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved.
The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes you try and clamp your thighs closed, but one of his hands shoves it back down. His eyes look up at you as he continues to lap at your drooling pussy. The stare speaks every word he can't at the moment.
This is for his pleasure, not yours, and you're meant to lay back and take what he's giving you.
Your fingers tangle in his raven hair, and the slight pain has him growling against you. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly, and he shoves two fingers into you without any warning.
You knew beforehand that Choso had slept with at least a few women, so he's not inexperienced, but you never knew that he was this experienced. His long fingers curl into you, pushing against the spot that has you screaming his name to the heavens. He has to rut against your mattress in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.
"D-Daddy.. I-I'm g-gonna cum.." He could already tell. Your walls sucked his fingers in as soon as they entered you, so he knew you wouldn't last much longer. "Hmmm," his sharp teeth nip your clit gently, but it still makes you squeak, "I sure hope you aren't telling daddy what you're going to do.. That would be awfully rude of you, little one."
The sheer dominance and control radiating from him has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Since when was your sweet step brother so demanding? "C-can I please cum, daddy? I-It feels t-too good.." You feel that damn smirk against your clit. "Of course, baby. Just scream my name when you do it, okay?"
He really must not like you talking much, because he doesn't let you answer him before he starts ruthlessly pounding his fingers into your cunt. Your entire body arches from the bed as you cry out for him. It takes one last flick of his tongue on your swollen bud to have you writing in the bed, coming completely undone before he even pulled his pants off.
He slows down, but doesn't completely stop, allowing you to ride out your high as he uses his tongue to lap up every drop of sweetness pouring from you. "Good girl, I've got you sweetheart. Are you feeling up for more, or do you need to stop until we go home?"
He sits up, eyeballing your form as he licks his lips clean, ignoring the fact he's dripping your own cum from his chin onto you.
You giggle, still a bit spaced out from the intense orgasm. "W-want you.. inside me, please daddy?" He chuckles softly before reaching to finally unhook your bra and fling it to the side. "Of course baby. Where are your condoms?" "D-Don't have any. I'm on.. the pill." His cheeks flush a bit, but he doesn't question anything else.
He makes quick work of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock alone has you snapping back to reality. When he pulls the boxers down, you outwardly moan when it slaps back against his abdomen. He's much bigger than any guy you've had before. Also, it's so.. pretty.
The shaft is a lot like the rest of his skin, a very pale color that almost shines if sunlight hits it. The head is a soft pink, very reminiscent of the blushes he always seemed to get if you teased him too much, with droplets of precum around it. A large vein runs from the underside of it, and you can see it actually throb the more he stares at you.
"See something you like, love?" You whimper at the very affectionate nickname. "I-is it going to fit? I mean.. I've never.." "Don't worry, little one," he gently lays you back, "daddy will get it to fit. If it hurts too much, just let me know. Okay?" he grabs one of your exes' pillows, placing it gently under your lower back. "O-okay, daddy. I trust you."
His smile warms your heart. "That's my good girl. Spread your legs for me." You nod, following his instructions immediately. His hand reaches between the two of you, grabbing his cock and gently rubbing the tip around your entrance. "You sure you want this, Y/N? I don't want you to feel forced." You whimper, nodding instantly. "P-please fuck me, Choso.. I've waited so long.." You spread your legs more, effortlessly enticing him.
When his tip enters you, you're already a moaning mess. It just feels too good. He watches your expressions intently as he slowly pushes into you, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's about halfway in, he stops completely.
"How you doin' baby? Any pain?" He leans down to give you a gentle kiss. "G-good. I-it kinda burns, but nothing bad, I promise." He smiles against your mouth and starts to push in again. "We're almost there, little one. Just- fuuuuck." He finally bottoms out, the stretch of it making you whimper loudly and wiggle around. He pants on your face, the scent of you still heavy on his breath.
"S-so fucking tight.. can't believe this is happening..”
He chuckles softly, giving a tentative thrust into your heat. You bite down on your lip, finding both pain and pleasure in the burn that courses through your body. "D-daddy-" He cuts off the rest of your sentence by leaning back onto his knees and grabbing the back of both of your thighs. He manhandles you easily into what you can only assume is a mating press.
"So easy to throw around, aren't you? My pretty baby.." He pulls out of you until only his tip is still inside before slamming back in, causing you to see stars. "You take cock like a pro, baby. I wasn't sure a cute little thing like you could handle it." You tighten around him at his foul language, causing him to growl. "I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. I'll make sure I'm the only one who can make you scream. You want that, baby? Want daddy to fuck the imprint of his cock into your slutty little hole?"
You throw your head back and cry out for him. "P-please! Make me your little toy, daddy. W-want you to own me.. prove who I belong to, please?" You know you've done it now from the way he snarls at you. However, the sudden ringing of your phone makes both of you freeze. He leans back up to wrap your thighs around his torso.
He's the first to reach to the floor and grab it, still buried deep inside of you. "Oh, lookie there.. a video call. Hello?" Did he-
"Choso? Where is Y/N? Why do you have her phone?" Your ex's voice sounds from the speaker, making your eyes shoot open. You meet Choso's eyes, mouthing the words 'hang up' over and over.
"What does it matter? She dumped you and called me." "Of course she did. Dude, let me talk to her." Choso chuckles darkly, finally thrusting into you, making you squeak loudly despite your best effort to stay quiet.
"What was that?" "Y/N. She's currently.. held up. Or.. down, rather." He smirks at his own joke, reaching down his free hand to start circling your clit with his middle finger. The feeling has you tightening your thighs around his waist.
"You... what?" "Are you deaf and stupid? I said she's busy, aren't you little one?" He smirks down at your form, panting and shaking your head in a desperate, silent plea. This can not be how everyone finds out about this. No way in hell.
Choso's mocking pout makes your face flare up. "She seems a little shy. Let me show you instead." "N-no! Choso I-!" The choking gasp from the phone call shuts you up. Choso's eyes show no mercy as he looks at you almost amused. "That isn't what you should be calling me, is it?"
You look directly at the camera on the back of your phone, your face a deep scarlet color. Before you can correct yourself, the hand that was idly playing with your clit launches up, smacking your cheek with enough force to have your eyes switch to his. He smirks and shoves his index and middle fingers in your mouth without warning, making the ring he wears clack a bit painfully into your teeth.
"Pretty little whore just needs to learn some manners. Don't you, love?" He gets a wicked grin seeing how you blabber around his digits, trying so desperately to behave and give him an answer. "Sorry, princess, I didn't quite hear you. Try again for daddy." He shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. Spit pours out of your kiss bruised lips, making Choso moan above you.
Your teary eyes make him pull his fingers out, wiping the spit across your face. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't speak? Silly little girl. Now, what should you be calling me?" "D-Daddy! I'm s-so sorry.." He groans, running his thumb down your bottom lip. He gently pries your mouth open before leaning over you, letting spit fall from his tongue into your waiting mouth. He purrs as you swallow it so obediently. "I know you are. You're such a good girl for me. Oh, he hung up." Choso chuckles softly and tosses your phone back to the floor.
"I believe that I have some work to finish, right baby?" Both of his hands grab your hips, surely leaving bruises, before he starts to mercilessly ram into your sopping cunt. Your throat is still somewhat raw from his fingers being in it not two minutes ago, but he's determined to pull every sound he can from you.
He slides one hand down, harshly pinching and rolling your swollen clit between two fingers. Your cries only encourage his ruthless actions.
"D-daddy I-I.. something.. something doesn't-" Your pleas are cut off when the hand on your hip actually lifts you off the bed, giving him enough access for the tip of his cock to batter into your cervix.
If you aren't sore tomorrow, he hasn't done his job.
Sweat drips down his forehead and chest as he growls deeply. "There we go baby. T-that's the spot. Cum for daddy, want you screaming until my name is the only t-thing you know." His hand starts slapping your exposed clit again, finally throwing you over the edge. When the coil in your abdomen snaps, you scream his name, raw throat be damned.
Choso hisses as you tighten around his cock, spraying his lower abdomen in your essence. "Sh-shit I-" His sentence trails off when he thrusts into you one more time, letting out an animalistic snarl as his own climax washes over him.
You can feel his cock throb as he unloads his seed deep inside you. The feeling makes you tremble and mewl. There's so much of it that it still manages to spill out, staining the bed sheets under you.
He's still panting pretty heavily when he slides out of you, careful in case you're still too sensitive. When you squeak, he reaches up to cup your cheek. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." You nuzzle into his hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. "Th-thank you, daddy. I-I'm so tired." When your eyes start to flutter shut, he carefully stands from the bed, shamelessly admiring your disheveled state. "I'm sure you are. Let me get us cleaned up. Then I'll take you home, okay?"
Your small nod is plenty of an answer, so he rushes to the bathroom to search for a rag. He takes only a few seconds to wipe himself clean before rushing back to your side. You wince slightly at the feeling of the cloth wiping you down. "Shhhh, daddy's got you baby. I'll be done in just a second." He smiles to himself as you visibly relax into his touch, allowing him to finish.
"You know," he chuckles as he helps you pull your clothes back on, "your dad is going to try and kill me." "Your mom is going to call me every name in the book." He nods in agreement, finally starting to dress himself.
"So.. should we stay quiet? I imagine shit-for-brain isn't going to, but we can play that off as him being an idiot." You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of either decision.
There's no doubt in your mind, you want to be with Choso. It's clear he's willing to do whatever you want, but from the look in his eyes, the answer is obvious.
"I'm not hiding it." He blinks at you in shock. "B-baby.. your repu-" You stand up, despite your legs screaming in pain. He's quick to rush over and pull you into his chest. "I don't care.. I love you, and I don't want to hide it anymore." You squeak loudly when he picks you up bridal style, holding you easily with one arm.
The kiss he gives you is soft and loving, full of nothing but his affection for you. "I love you too, Y/N. I want nothing more than to tell the world that."
He carries you downstairs to grab your overnight bag, and then out to put you in his car. He really refuses to let you do anything, since he even leans inside to buckle you up. Your protests have him laughing. "When you're with me," he kisses your lips after getting into the driver's seat, "you're the spoiled princess. Got it?"
The drive to his house is quiet. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking along it with his thumb, occasionally bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.
"Oh.. oh shit." "What?" You open your eyes from almost falling asleep.
Your blood freezes when you see what he's looking at. Your dad's car is already parked in his driveway.
Tags: @katgalle, @savonline
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celtics534 · 2 years
Text
In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold it Can Be Chapter 12
God Knows What is Real and What's Fake
I’m very excited to share this chapter! I hope you all are ready for some action!
The next (and final) chapter won’t be posted next Saturday like normal. Time is not on my side to get it done in time. But I promise to post it as soon as possible :)
Read on: FF.net or AO3
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Harry's fingers tapped a manic rhythm against the steering wheel. He hated this feeling. It felt like he'd abandoned her. He knew that was his protective nature, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut with every kilometer he drove away from Ginny's parents. Harry couldn't explain it. It was a bad feeling, all based on a wave.
 That wave. 
 His mind kept playing it on repeat. Her body had been so stiff that Harry could see the tension across the yard. The lack of enthusiasm had also sent him on edge. It had been like... like she was nervous. 
 He couldn't figure it out. She had been so excited, practically skipping to the front door. Then that door had opened, and everything had changed. What would cause her attitude to shift so drastically?
 Stopping at a sign, Harry looked both ways before crossing the intersection. The dark winding roads were hard to navigate at night. He kept his speed slow for any sudden bend in the path. It made the supposed five-minute trip, to the guest house he'd booked, a nearly eight minute trip. That fact brought Harry some comfort. Ginny was only eight minutes away.   
 A lot could happen in eight minutes. 
 Harry groaned as he parked in the small car park. He needed to stop. He would never make it through the night if he kept thinking like this. Everything was fine. Riddle was locked away. Kingsley's team had Riddle's men on the run. No one would be looking at him or Ginny. 
 He forced himself to take three deep breaths, releasing them slowly. His heart raced in an unsteady rhythm, slowing to a manageable tempo. It was all in his imagination. All these dark thoughts and images were something his mind created because it was twisted from all the shit he'd seen. Ginny was safe at her parent's house. She was gonna spend her night hugging her mum and comforting her dad.  
 It was painful, but eventually, Harry managed to get himself to leave the car. He collected his overnight bag from the backseat and went into the reception. A pleasant older gentleman greeted him with a toothy grin. 
 "Welcome! You must be, Mr. Potter." His words had a slight lisp to them, but Harry found it oddly charming. 
"Yes, sir." 
 The innkeeper waved his hand. "No need for the sir. Call me, Tom. We've not that formal around here."
 Harry's had to hold back his grimace at the name. Riddle had forever tainted it for him. Instead, Harry forced a return grin on his face. "Thanks, Tom."
 Tom's smile grew. "Alrighty! So here is your key." He held out and old fashion skeleton key. "You'll be up on the third floor, second door on the right." 
 Harry eyed the slightly rusted key for a second before taking it. He'd never used a key like it, only seen it in films. It made him think of a medieval castle or rickety garden gate. Tom cheerfully chatted about the best local pub (which he owned) and other hot spots. Harry barely listened as they made their way up to his room. 
 "Will you be wanting anything to eat tonight?" Tom asked once they reached the third floor.
 It took Harry a long moment to focus on his guide. "Um... no, I'm all set. I'm just going to go straight to bed."
 Tom nodded, giving another of his broad grins. He waved a hand down the hall towards Harry's room. "Well, if you need anything, please call down to the counter or come down. My wife and I are happy to help."
 Harry thanked the man before heading to his door. It took a second for the old key to ease into the lock. Fortunately, the room was more modern than the security (though not by much). Harry dropped his bag on the corner of the double bed. He collapsed perpendicular onto the mattress, hearing the groans and squeaks of the old box spring. 
 His eyes shut on their own accord as he allowed himself to take a moment. Then his fingers reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. The bright screen lit up, showing the time. 
 Thirty minutes. It had been thirty minutes since he'd left Ginny standing there on the step of her parents’ house. Thirty minutes since she'd walked through the kitchen door. 
 That wave. Fuck, that wave still nagged at him. It had felt so... forced and painful. She should have been happy and excited. Loose with the joy of seeing her parents. But instead, she'd been stiff as a board. 
 Harry started drumming his hand against the bedspread at that rapid pace from before. Fuck... Fuck, he needed to hear her voice. He told her to call in an hour, but there was no way he would make it another thirty minutes. Tapping rapidly at the screen, Harry pulled up Ginny's contact. 
 He watched the screen as the speaker echoed around the room. One ring. Two rings. Three. Four. Five. It kept going for eleven rings before his call was sent to voicemail. The tinny automatic voice that answered made Harry's heart hammer. He ended the call and instantly redialed. Again he was met with the annoying automation. 
 His body jerked up as he stared at the phone. His fingers closed so tightly around the device Harry could feel it start to bend. It took a conscious effort for him to loosen his grip. She would have answered his first call. She knew how nervous he was about sending her alone, so she would have paused whatever conversation she'd had to tell him she was alright. Ignoring the second call.... 
 Harry was running out of the old house and was peeling down the road before Tom could even figure out the loud commotion coming from the staircase. 
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 Just thirty-two minutes ago, Harry had taken the English backroads at a cautious, slow pace; now, he was taking them like a Formula one driver. He took a sharp right way too wide. If another car had been on the road he'd hit them head on, but Harry couldn't slow down. 
 That wave. 
 That wave was the last image he had of Ginny and he'd ignored his instincts. He'd driven away and all the while she might have been going into... Goosebumps rose across his body as he went around an S curve. 
If something had happened to Ginny... if one of Riddle's men had come after her... Harry didn't know what he'd do. He'd never be able to forgive himself. 
 Harry pressed his foot to the gas pedal as he hit a long stretch of straight road. The car accelerated quickly and dangerously. He was two minutes from the dirt road that led to the Burrow. Three minutes from the little parking area beside the garden. It had been thirty-five minutes since Ginny had waved at him. Thirty-five minutes where some fucking bastard could have... 
 "Fuck!" Harry yelled into the silence of the car. His rage and anxiety came bubbling to the surface. He was losing his mind! He needed to see Ginny with his own eyes before he could calm down.
 He took the turn onto the dirt road, not slowing. The violent bumps jerked his car, but Harry didn't succumb to them. His speed didn't drop below eighty. 
 When the Burrow finally came into view, Harry could see the kitchen light still glowing warmly. There were also lights up across the house. He skidded to a stop, nearly hitting the old farm fencing that kept cars from driving on the grass. 
 He turned off the car, enveloping the garden back into darkness. Harry grabbed the gun, holster, and ammo he'd placed into the glove compartment with quick, efficient movements. In less than thirty seconds Harry was out of the car, shoulder holster on, and approaching the house. He moved to the kitchen window first, peering inside. 
 Nothing. 
 No one.
 The room was empty. Harry stared for a moment longer. Why would the light be on if no one was there? He was about to back away when something caught his eye. His heart climbed into his throat when he realized what it was. 
 A leg.
 It was half hidden behind the table and chairs, but Harry could clearly tell it was a leg. If he'd have to guess a man based on the trouser pants and the large foot. 
 Harry moved quickly to the side door he'd seen Ginny disappear into. He pulled out his phone, quickly calling nine-nine-nine. The moment the operator came on, Harry started to explain. He kept his voice low as he covered all his bases: his title, the location, possible crime, three potential victims, and possible injuries. 
 "I will be entering the premises armed. Please inform responders of my presence. I will stay on the line, but I'll be putting you on mute."   
 "Detective Potter, we have a response team fifteen minutes out. Please wait outside of the —" Harry turned the volume off the call with one button. He slid the phone back into his pocket. The call had taken valuable time, but Harry wanted back up on the way in case things were worse than he imagined. Taking one more second, Harry pulled his gun out of the holster, checking to make sure the chamber was loaded before slowly opening the door. 
 From his window perch, Harry's view had been limited, but he could see the entire room from here. He could see the chaos that had reigned. Broken china littered all over. There were scattered pieces of a chair strewn across the floor that went into what Harry assumed was the sitting room. But it was the prone figure that got Harry's attention. 
 The older man lay in a small puddle of blood. If Harry had to place a guess, he'd say it was Ginny's father. Harry could see the large gash that stood out prominently across the man's pale forehead. The wound didn't look too deep, but as Harry moved in closer, he could see a red stain spreading over the white night shirt. 
 Harry moved fast, falling to his knees and checking for a pulse. After a long, terrifying moment, Harry found one. It was thready, but there. Harry found the source of the blood on the man's shirt. A long knife wound ran down his side. Based on Harry’s experience, the man had been sliced and then bopped on the head, knocking him out cold.   
 He looked around before finding a clean dish towel and pressing it over the cut. The man let out a weak groan, and Harry let out a sigh of relief. Harry was about to look around for something to hold the makeshift bandage when a scream came from upstairs.
 A woman's scream. 
 Harry swore under his breath. He needed to stop this bleeding, but someone was in trouble upstairs. Without any options, Harry took the man's arm and pressed it against the cloth. Praying Ginny's father wouldn't move before help arrived, Harry jumped to his feet and rushed to the stairs.     
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 The old floors of the Burrow amplified every step Harry took, no matter how lightly he walked. The creaking and groaning made Harry wince. He was certain whoever had attacked the Weasleys would know exactly where he was.. that they were planning on jumping out and killing him on the spot. But Harry couldn't stop. He needed to get to whoever screamed. Ginny was somewhere in this house. 
 At the third landing, Harry cleared a small bedroom to the right and a bathroom to the left. Both empty and showing no signs of being recently occupied. The house had six stories; Harry knew that because Ginny had told him all about how her parents had continued to add floors as they added kids. She'd told Harry the house somehow magically remained standing, giving off Leaning Tower of Pisa vibes. 
 He started down the thin corridor where a single door stood ajar. Blood pounded in his ears with every step, making it hard for him to listen. But the closer he got to the door, the louder it got. The whimpering. Someone was in that room and they were not okay. 
 With his heart slamming hard in his ribs, Harry eased himself against the door before pushing it open with his shoulder. He swept left then right, holding his gun steady. No one hid in the corners. No one lay in wait along the wall. But there was someone in the room. 
 Harry met brown eyes just like Ginny's and knew this had to be her mother. She was bound to a chair, her mouth gagged with duct tape. Harry had to bite back his anger as he noticed how her clothing had been ripped and tinged with blood. 
 "Molly?" He kept his voice quiet and calm, approaching slowly. Her body had begun to tremble as she stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Harry slid his gun into the holster before raising his hands. "Molly, my name is Harry Potter. Detective Harry Potter."
 Surprise, confusion, and relief filtered across her face in quick succession before her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry couldn't blame her. He would be warry of a stranger after whatever had happened here. 
 "I've been... with Ginny for a month," Harry told her, hoping to bring some credit to his name. "I ran into her in the street, and I've kept her with me. To protect her from —" From this exact situation. Guilt turned in his gut, but he forced himself to stay on task. "If I tell you something personal about Ginny, will that help you feel more comfortable about me?"
 Molly's deep brown eyes stared at him long and hard, clearly trying to tell if he was being honest. Finally, after a long moment, she nodded. Harry released a long breath. "Alright... alright. Ginny told me about how the first time she brought a boy home, the twins put itching powder all over the bloke."
 It took a moment for Molly to remember Ginny's ex and what had happened to him. Harry could see the exact second when the memory came back to her. Her eyes started filling with tears. 
 Harry took that as his invitation to move in and untie her. He pulled out his pocket knife, sawing into the rope. It took longer than Harry wanted, but eventually, he got Molly free from her binds.
 He folded the knife, sliding it back into his pocket. "Molly, I'm going to take off the duct tape. It's going to hurt, but please don't scream. I'm gonna do it quick. One pull." 
 She nodded, her eyes still bright with unshed tears, but he could feel the determination flow off her. Without hesitating, Harry peeled a corner of the tape off her skin and then pulled it quickly.  
 Molly winced but bit her tongue as the tape fell to the floor. Harry helped her to her feet, ensuring no significant injuries. Based on his primary check, she was worse for wear but nothing life threatening.
 A million questions went through Harry's head. Who had done this? How many were there? How did they get into the house? But only one took priority. "Where is Ginny?"
 "I — He —" Molly sucked in a deep breath, clearly struggling to contain her fear. "He took her upstairs... up to my room, I think."
 "That's on the next floor?"
 She nodded. "It's the door on the left."
 Harry straightened his spine. "Is it just the one man?"
 Again Molly nodded. "I have no idea who he is but... but he tied Arthur and me to chairs. Snuck up on us while we were sleeping." Her voice started to tremble in time with her shoulders. "He hit Arthur on the head so hard."
 "Your husband is downstairs. He has a knife wound in the side and a head injury. You head down there and keep pressure on the wounds. I've already called for backup. They should be here any minute."
 Molly swallowed so loudly he could hear it. "And you'll go get Ginny? You'll save my baby?"
 Harry pulled his gun back out of the holster. "Nothing will stop me."
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 With slowly, steady steps, Harry approached the master bedroom. The door was shut, but he could see the light beam coming from the bottom. There was another flight of stairs to his right, but Harry focused solely on the door. He placed his head against it, trying to hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. 
 Nothing. 
 No voices. No footsteps. No breathing. 
 Nothing.
 Swallowing the fear of what he would see, Harry grabbed the handle. The door swung open with ease. The bedroom wasn't overly large, only containing enough space for a dresser, a queen size bed, and a single chair. A single chair that had ropes lying around it. 
 Harry's heart pounded violently against his ribs. She'd been here... she'd been tied in here, but now... but now she could be anywhere. 
 "Fuck!" The curse slipped from his mouth as he swung a vicious kick at the chair. He'd missed her. Ginny had been here, and Harry had failed to save her. Now he had no idea where she was. Her kidnapper could have snuck her from the house while Harry had tended to Molly. 
 "Fuck." This time, the word came out like a sob. Tears started clouding his vision. He'd failed her. She was now at the mercy of some unknown psychopath. A psychopath with a vendetta. 
 Blinking rapidly, he forced his vision to clear. He lifted his head from the cut ropes, staring dolefully through the window. That's when he saw it. A figure dragging a wiggling body. 
 He rushed to the glass, trying to get a better image. The kitchen light bathed the garden enough to show him atall man with —
 Harry was out the bedroom door before anything other than her name echoed in his head. 
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 Too long. It took too long for him to make it down the four flights of stairs and out the kitchen door. He sped past Molly, who knelt by her husband's side. There wasn't time to answer her question of where he was going. Harry had to get to Ginny before she was dragged into the woods. Before, she was lost to him. 
 He left the door open as he sprinted across the lawn. They were almost to the large cluster of trees. From his distance, Harry knew reaching them would be a struggle. They were a good fifty meters away. He was fast but not fast enough to get to Ginny before she was carried into the dark forest or her kidnapper injured her.  
 Ginny was still fighting the man. Her body jerked wildly, her feet digging at the dirt in an attempt to slow their progress. Her kidnapper had her in a choke hold, his back to the trees as he hauled her.
 "Ginny!" Harry yelled her name, hoping to let her know he was there. That he would get to her. Harry refused to think any other way. She was in his sights, and he would be damned if he didn't save her.  
 At his voice, Ginny's head jerked in his direction. He knew she couldn't see him, not his face at least. At best, she could see his shadow as he sprinted in the kitchen light. But he swore her eyes had somehow found his. His call didn't just get Ginny's attention. Her kidnapper paused to find the source. 
 It was then that Harry's heart stopped. Ginny's body went limp and fell to the ground. Her neck! Her kidnapper must have snapped her neck. Harry's knees wanted to buckle, slowing his pace. Ginny's attacker swore loudly as he went to grab her, but Ginny was faster. She rolled away from him, gaining speed as momentum started. Her course took her towards a garden bed. 
 Harry's heart only started beating once she was four yards away from her attacker. His feet, which had felt like lead, suddenly felt lighter, letting his pace pick up. Harry was only twenty meters away when Ginny's attacker reached her. His hands gripped her shirt, hauling her to her feet. 
 "Fuck you!" Ginny's angry screams carried across the dark night. Harry watched in shock as Ginny's attacker dropped her. She fell harshly to the grass, scrambling up to her feet. Her hands were wrapped around something that she started wielding like a bat. 
 A shovel, Harry realized. She'd found a shorter shovel and had used it to hit her attacker. Pride rose in his chest as he watched his woman prepare to take out anyone who came near her. 
 Riddle. Harry recognized his cruel snarl as he got within five meters of Ginny. Riddle had somehow found the Burrow and attacked Ginny's family.
 The way Riddle stared at Ginny, the venom and hatred would have made a lesser person quake in their boots. But not Ginny. She straightened her spine and tightened her grip on her makeshift weapon. 
 Harry skidded to a stop a few steps back from Ginny. He pointed his gun at Riddle. "Don't move! I won't hesitate!"
 Riddle turned his hostility on Harry. His fingers twitched as he glowered at Harry. "You can't shoot an unarmed man."
 Harry lifted his weapon slightly higher, the barrel pointing straight at Riddle's chest. "Try me." 
 Ginny started backing to stand beside Harry, her weapon still ready and eyes still locked on Riddle. The moment her shoulder bumped his, the weight on Harry's chest lessened. They stood five meters from Riddle, armed and ready. 
 It was in Riddle's eyes. Harry could see the fear and resentment in the cold depths. He could also see the desperation. Riddle's intentions were clear a second before the man had his back to Harry and was running. 
 "Ginny, wait here!" Harry said as he started after Riddle. This time Harry wouldn't let him get away. Riddle would not escape. He would not get the chance to come back and harm Ginny. 
 Adrenaline made Harry's feet move faster than before. He was gaining on Riddle. Four meters. Three. When Riddle looked over his shoulder, he was guaranteed to see Harry's determined expression even in just the moonlight. 
 Riddle sprinted into the woods, ducking in and out between trees. Harry kept hot on his trail, still gaining distance. Two meters. With a burst of speed, Harry jumped, tackling Riddle's back. Riddle landed hard in the dirt, the wind getting knocked out of him as Harry fell on top of him. Harry kept his weight pressed on Riddle as he rose into a better position. 
 "Tom Riddle, you are under arrest." The satisfied smile that curled Harry's lips made his cheeks hurt. Riddle started struggling under him, but Harry pressed his knee hard into the small of his back. "Just fucking try it."
 "Harry!" Ginny's voice came from somewhere to his left. "Harry!"
 "Here!" 
 Ginny sprinted over to them. It was hard to see her in the moon's minimal light, but Harry would recognize her hair anywhere. "I have rope from the shed."
 Harry could see the bright yellow cord in her hands. "Hand me some. I'll tie his arms. You can get his legs." They worked in quickly, locking Riddle's hands and ankles together. Riddle's curses and obscenities echoed off the trees as they tightened the cord. Once he was certain Riddle wouldn't escape, Harry rose to his feet. 
 "Well." Ginny's voice trembled. "This wasn't the homecoming I was expecting."
 Harry tore his eyes from Riddle, who continued calling them every name in the book, to look at his girlfriend. She stood statue still as she watched Riddle's wiggling form. 
 "Ginny." Her name came out like a dying man asking for water. He lost sight of her as his eyes blurred with tears. There was no stopping them. He could feel the wetness slide down his cheeks as he turned to wrap her in his arms. His nose went into her hair, inhaling the scent he feared he never would again. "Ginny."
 Her arms came around his back, holding him just as tightly as he held her. She didn't speak. Instead just held him as he held her. They didn't need words. They needed this. 
 "Just you wait!" Riddle yelled. "I'll be back! You think you've won, but you haven't! I've got —" 
 Harry cut off his rambling with a sharp kick to the side. "Shut up." He slowly released Ginny from his arms, but kept one hand on her waist. Harry needed physical reassurance just for another moment. "We should take him back to the house. The police should be here by now."
 Riddle grunted and tried to shift from where he was tied on the ground. 
 "Move another inch and I'll aim that shovel at your balls," Ginny declared, giving Riddle a sharp look.
 "I'd listen to her," Harry warned. "My woman's not afraid to fight back."
 Riddle stopped squirming to glare at them with hatred. Harry's hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as if he still couldn't believe she was there, that she was whole and safe and his arms. When she rose up on her toes to press a hard lingering kiss to his lips, he relaxed.
 "I love you." When she fell back on her heels, her voice took on a tone of determination. "Let's go. I want to see him be the one in shackles this time." 
 Harry took her hand in his. Her warmth spread from his fingers across his body. With Ginny by his side, Harry forgot about everything they'd just been through. All that mattered was her. Them. She was his warmth and he never wanted to be in the cold without her again. 
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luxwritesfanfic · 3 years
Text
On Tap
Sherlock insists that it would work better with the reader on top and after the night they’ve had, there’s no point in arguing. Or, the one where reader plays superhero for poor Greg and her beloved detective. Thanks for reading!
Sherlock Holmes/Reader
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You hadn’t even taken your shoes off when your phone started ringing in your purse. Sighing, you dug around for it with one hand and reached for the lightswitch with the other. Work had been incredibly stressful since you were working short during flu season and everyone in London had been feeling under the weather apparently. You had told your coworkers that if they really needed you that you would come back even though you had put a solid 16 hours in. Sherlock and John had gone out for John’s bachelor party so you didn’t mind working late, and Bucky was visiting his brother in the States so all your time was truly yours. You had thought about soaking in the bath or catching up on that show you always missed, but all of those thoughts were stopped in their tracks when the ringing persisted.
“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound like you’d rather chew on glass than clock one more minute into the hospital but you weren’t sure you were so convincing.
“Come get him. Please, for the love of God, come get him.” At hearing Greg’s voice, you were both relieved yet confused. Sherlock must’ve invited him last minute to celebrate with them, you didn’t remember him saying that he was coming along.
“Oh, I didn’t know you went out with the boys! Where are you guys?” It was nice to know they were all having a good time. You liked Greg and thought he was a really good friend for Sherlock and John. You had plopped down on the couch and had started pulling one of your shoes off when he said, “No, I didn’t go with them. They were brought to me. Someone called the cops on them and now I’ve got tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum arguing about the solar system and taking turns puking in my waste bin. Please, I beg of you, come get him. Matter of fact, I can bring him home. If that makes the process quicker--- I mean easier.” You heard Sherlock trying to take Greg’s phone in the background, asking to talk to you and then quickly after arguing with John once more if it was really that important he knew they orbited the sun. Greg sounded just as exhausted as you felt and you could only imagine how annoyed he was by the drunk detective that he was already annoyed with most of the time sober.
“Yeah, yeah of course I’ll come get him. I’m actually at my flat though, so if you could meet me at his place that would be awesome. I’d just need a few minutes to finish up here...” You mourned the hot bath you were never going to get to take and worked on shoving the shoe you just took off back on, “did you call Mary for John?”
“Yes, she’ll be over soon. As soon as she gets here, I’ll bring Sherlock. You’re doing the Lord’s work, thank you.” With that, he hung up and you went to your room to pack an overnight bag. You were exhausted and if you had to go all the way to Sherlock’s, it would be easier for you to crash on the couch than to try to come back home late.
By the time you got to Sherlock’s, you were dragging your feet up the stairs and you could barely keep your eyes open. You had received a text from Mary when she picked John up saying “good luck” and you wished you knew what you were walking into. You had never seen Sherlock drunk, or heard any stories of him being drunk, but you were sure he was even more eccentric than he was sober. If you weren’t so tired, you’d be jumping with joy at the experience to see Sherlock so out of character. 
You went into Sherlock’s room and laid out some pajamas for him and went ahead and put a water bottle and some Advil on his nightstand because you were sure he would need it. After doing that, you changed into something more comfortable too and rummaged through his fridge to see if there was anything to eat. Thumbs, unsalted butter, and milk that shouldn’t look like blue cheese was what was on the menu and you had decided sleep for dinner sounded much more appetizing. You’d go shopping for him tomorrow.
Greg had texted that he was outside but Sherlock didn’t have his key so you made your way down the steps to meet them. Upon opening the door, Sherlock looked up at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. He stumbled towards you and held you at arms length with a look of wonder on his face. “Finally! Y/N, I was thinking I’d die from being surrounded by total stupidity, and here you are. Ever the shining light and the beacon of hope.”
You felt the heat from his stare and turned to Greg to try and keep your composure under all his attention. “Uh.. I— thank you. For bringing him home.”
Still staring at Sherlock and shocked by his outburst, Greg met your eyes with a knowing smile. “It’s no trouble. He’s your problem now. Good luck, my dear.” He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you with a very drunk Sherlock Holmes and a dozen steps to climb.
“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning towards the door, “do you think you can get up the stairs? Or do you want me to help you?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he started until his eyes widened like he forgot who he had been talking to. It had only been a second but he saw the look that flashed across your face. You hated when he made you feel dumb because you always tried so hard to keep up with him, and he knew that. You didn’t have a chance to react before he quickly interrupted. His previous statement was immediately followed by, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please help me.”
You just nodded, unsure of what made him have such a quick change of heart but you were happy he did. You hated him thinking you were dumb. In comparison to him, maybe, but you were intelligent in your own right and you did a better job of keeping up with him than most. He threw his arm around your shoulders to steady himself and allowed you to lead him carefully up the stairs. He started telling you about his night and it honestly sounded like he had a great time, and so did John. You were really happy that it all worked out even if they did end up with Greg at the end of it all.
As soon as the back of Sherlock’s legs hit his chair, he was down in a clean swoop and you took the opportunity to start untying his shoes. He seemed like he was lost in thought and was quiet for a few moments but you could tell from the way he was swaying that he was too far gone to sober up before the morning.
“I already put your clothes out for you and I’ll help you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’ll love me for that in the morning.” You smiled at him as you pulled off his loafers and moved to stand up so that you could figure out how you were going to get him out of his chair.
“Will I, though? Will I tomorrow once I’m in my right mind?” He asked, and while he didn’t say it in an ignorant tone, it sounded like Sherlock, and that was close enough.
You looked at him hoping he’d say something else. But he didn’t, and he looked back at you with a look of confusion as if he was really expecting you to answer that. It seemed like just last week he was in your bed trying to convince you that he didn’t have eyes for anyone besides you and now he’s reminding you that he’s not even sure of that. Sherlock could have you at the top of the poll and then have you kissing the ground in the same hour if he tried.
“It’s just a saying. I didn’t really mean...you know, let’s— let’s just get you to bed. It’s late and you have a date with a hangover in the morning.” You could tell he was on the verge of passing out which was good in the way of no more awkward conversations but horrible in that you’d never get him into bed as dead weight. So you pushed things along and eventually got him in bed before he was out like a light.
Draping the blanket over him, you watched as his eyes fluttered behind his lids and how his lips twitched as fell into a deeper sleep and you were sure then that you would never love anyone more. You would never understand how he didn’t realize how beautiful he made the ordinary and how easily he made everything extraordinary. Afraid that you’d turn to stone if you spent any more time staring at him, you turned off his light and made your way to the living room where the the couch had never looked more inviting. It didn’t take you long to get settled in and asleep seeing as the TV in the background ended up being the perfect thing to mask Sherlock’s drunk snores and you had never been more tired in your life.
“I thought you were staying over?”
It had only been a few hours since you  had put Sherlock to bed when he found himself looking over you on the couch, wrapped up in his bedsheet.
“M’right here.” You murmured into the pillow, body still turned away from Sherlock on the couch. He was probably still drunk and you were hoping if you laid still enough he’d wander back to bed.
He didn’t respond to you, instead he continued to stand and stare with his lips pursed and brows furrowed. You had drifted back off only to be nudged awake once more.
“I won’t fit like that.” He gestured with the hand not holding the sheet to the couch, sounding exasperated like he had been explaining this to you all night. “It’ll only work if you’re on top, so get up so I can lie down first.”
You didn’t process what he said really, you just knew that if he was being persistent and you didn’t do as he asked he’d never let you go back to bed. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light and swung your legs off the couch, standing on stiff bones. Sherlock immediately made to get comfortable on the couch while you stood dazed and confused and he cleared his throat expectantly when he had finally got settled. He was on his back with one arm holding the sheet up between himself and the back of the couch allowing room for you to climb over and snuggle right into him.
All you could do was blink and hold his stare as he waited expectantly, still holding the sheet for you. You didn’t think he was asking you to lay with him, especially with how close you’d two be. Sure, you shared your bed before, but there was always enough room for you both to have your own space. You could tell he was getting embarrassed by your reaction, or lack there of.
“I didn’t think this would be rocket science, even for someone like you.” His nervousness was showing as he yanked his arm back down and curled into to himself like a child. You jumped into action so you wouldn’t upset him any more and shook his shoulder as you whined, partially from exhaustion and from missing the chance to sleep next to him.
“I’m tired, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize what you were asking. Come on, open up. Let me in.” You continued to shake at his shoulder until he looked back at you. He looked wrecked from drinking all night and you knew this bout of sobriety wouldn’t be as easy on him in the morning but you were sure he looked holy.
Sherlock reluctantly brought his arm up again and you wasted no time sliding under the sheet and tucking yourself under the crook of his arm. He smelled like beer and mouthwash and Sherlock and you thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest when he brought his arm back down on you, subsequently pinning you down to him. It was definitely a tight fit especially since the couch barely fit Sherlock but you had decided that if you had the opportunity to sleep with him like this every night that you would. Back pain be damned.
The steadiness of his heartbeat was already working you back to sleep. Sighing content, you let your body fully relax and sink further into him.
“You never answered my question.” He shifted next to you and kept you close to him all the same, his head leaning to rest on yours.
“Hmm?” You made an incoherent sound, your breath evening out as you fell asleep.
“My question,” he whispered more so to himself as he worked it out in his head. The feelings he found himself harboring for you were ones he had never felt before. He thought  so highly of you in a way he couldn’t understand even if he wasn’t the best at expressing it. You were patient with him when he got on your last nerve and was amazed by him when other people would tell him to piss off. You were always kind and warm and made him feel human even after he spent so long separating himself from his feelings. He couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at anyone else the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.
So yes, he thought. Yes, he would love you in the morning. He’d love you when you’re angry with him for putting himself at risk during a case and he’d love you when you were overly tired and petulant after he made you stay up all night to keep him company in the lab. He loved that you valued him regardless of what he offered you, and that you always showed him that even if he never reciprocated it. You were never embarrassed by him, you always tried to learn about what he was interested in, and you never doubted him even when he was wrong.
Girlfriends weren’t naturally his area... but he didn’t think he would mind if it was you. He liked being close to you and physical touch wasn’t something he had sought out often before. He found that he chased the opportunity to be near you at all times. He thought you looked lovely in scrubs and a lab coat and even lovelier in your everyday wear, even if you considered it plain. He had begun to notice the way other people stared at you when you walked by and it left him with the most unsettling feeling. But then you’d smile at him and despite himself he’d smile right back and he wondered if anything in the world mattered to you besides him. Because in those moments, nothing mattered to him besides you.
Sherlock woke up alone again the next morning with the worst headache he’d ever had. Light was shining through the curtains and he cursed the sun for rising another day as he covered his eyes and groaned. Peaking through his fingers, he saw that the Advil and water had been moved to the coffee table for him and when he reached out for it he noticed the note on the table. He sat up with one hand gingerly holding his head as he read it.
“Got called into work to help the girls. John and Mary are coming over for lunch, so text me what you want me to bring home. We can’t serve our best friends buttered thumbs for lunch. I’ll see you soon!
  -Y/N xx”
He held the note in his hand, contemplating what his next move would be. You were interested in him, that he knew for sure. He’d contemplated casually mentioning to everyone that you were dating, but he technically hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend and you two had never talked about any mutual feelings. Maybe he’d kiss you when walking you to your taxi, but he knew he’d make you stay with him instead of letting you go home. Possibly tonight when you were laying in his bed he’d tell you it had to be you, it could only ever be you.
Leaning back against the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and decided he’d call John over early and he’d help him sort it out. John always helped him. Standing up was harder than it looked apparently, as Sherlock wobbled to the side and fought the urge to puke. Perhaps he should shower first, surely you wouldn’t say yes to being his if he didn’t look his best.
He remembered how he looked and acted last night and winced. On second thought, maybe you would. You had already given yourself to him for better or for worse and soon enough, he smiled, he would give you himself in return.
789 notes · View notes
stuckonmain · 3 years
Text
Six of Swords (Wirt x reader)
*******
Authors note: Yeah, this is kind of for a prompt? I dunno anymore. I just started writing something without actually thinking much, so have a fluffy oneshot with Wirt and pumpkin patches and a slightly witchy (Y/N)
P.S.
It's in Wirt's POV, and the only pronoun I used for the reader is (Y/N). About 3k words of fluff and a very dense boy
*******
I frowned and looked into the mirror. I wanted to dress ‘nice’, but not too nice. Casual. But nice. And this jacket wasn’t quite doing it….ugh. The blue kinda offset the olive green in my sweater, and- actually, scrap the sweater, it’s not a good color for warmer tones like my unglossed maple complexion- and now I’m thinking in interior design terminology. Great.
Would a sweater vest be too dorky? Hoodies are cool, right- I…I don’t have any hoodies. Uhm….
My phone rang! Shoot- I ran to pick it up.
“Wirt! Hey! We’re about fifteen minutes away from your place, okay? Be ready! We’re gonna have the best night ever!”
“Ha, yeah! Best night, yeah. Uh, y-yeah, I’ll be ready, just gotta…you know, finish packing. So we won’t have to pay for- uh…snacks. A-and that’s it. Yup, basically ready!”
“Free snacks? Aw, you’re the best, man! See you soon!”
“Ha, you too!! T-thanks, (Y/N), see you in like fifteen minutes!”
I hung up the phone. How was I gonna be ready in fifteen minutes?!
We were off to the All Hallows Eve festival in Salem, and had rented a little beach house for the rest of the weekend. ‘We’ being the drama club- and more importantly, (Y/N) (L/N).
(Y/N) was by far the coolest person in the clarinet section, the coolest person in the drama club, and…well, the coolest person I’d ever met, actually. And it was this (Y/N), most awesome person ever (Y/N), who got me into theater in the first place. And invited me to events. And not just events, but even one-on-one hiking trips or coffee hangouts or that one poetry festival! And now we were off to spend a weekend at an indie festival, and hopefully we’d stare at the stars and talk about life….And I had a plan. A terrible plan that would probably go wrong….but a plan. I wanted to tell (Y/N) about my true feelings……I don’t know if I’ll be able to summon the guts for that, but….
But I definitely wouldn’t be able to do that if I didn’t get ready now!
I sighed. This wasn’t going well, and I haven’t even started.
Alright. Ditch the sweater…
I reached for a white button down in the closet. It would do fine for a top.
Uhh…gray jeans or gray trousers, gray jeans or gray trousers….wear the jeans, but pack the trousers to wear tomorrow.
I nodded. So far so good.
And now….what jacket.
I tried the denim jacket….ugh, no. …Maybe a trenchcoat! No, too dressy…And then a thought dawned on me. Dad’s old jacket! It should be in the attic…
I bounded up to the attic and rifled through the old stuff. There were a lot of clothes up here from…ages ago. After grandma died, dad inherited all the stuff in her antique store. And amongst the frilly dresses and union cloaks was a bomber jacket, from World War two- with me and (Y/N)’s shared love of vintage aesthetics, and the fact that it made me look like I actually had shoulders, it was the perfect choice for tonight! I tugged it on. YES!
I finished packing the bag in a panic, hoping I had grabbed everything. And- oh god, I almost forgot the tape… I ran back upstairs to grab the tape recorder and some blank cassettes. And- socks! Yeah, I probably need those…
By the time the van rolled up, I was somehow ready.
“Hey Shakespeare! Get in here!” Waved John from the driver’s seat. He was a tall, strong-looking guy- I’d have pegged him for more of a jock type if he hadn’t played the anxiety ridden Claudio in the production of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’.
“Ha, yeah, coming!” I nodded, and stepped into the van.
“Wirt! My best boy!” (Y/N) grinned. “C’mere, there’s room in the back if you don’t mind being squished between everyone’s overnight bags and yours truly.”
“O-of course not! I mean, yeah, no, that’s perfect- not perfect, but you know, good, yeah….I’ve been talking for too long…” I cringed.
“Yeah, a bit…happens to the best of us though. Now, you brought your tape recorder, right?” Said (Y/N).
“Of course!”
“Great! I wanted to show you this recording I made the other night, and I forgot to bring mine.”
I smiled. Ever since I showed (Y/N) my tape recorder, we’ve recorded tapes for each other- usually mixtapes, but sometimes (Y/N) recorded songs and I recorded poetry. I popped the tape in, and we each put on an earbud.
*******
The next thing I knew, I was waking up. The chatter of the other theater kids was rampant as ever, and I wondered how I even managed to fall asleep with all the noise. I guess it’s possible…For some reason, this car is way more comfortable than most…actually, why is it so-
Oh no. I bolted upwards- I had fallen asleep on (Y/N)’s shoulder.
(Y/N) stirred, and yawned.
“Hey Wirt…”
”Hi!” I smiled.
“Sorry, I’m really tired…stayed up too late last night, y’know?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, no, we’ve got time, might as well sleep, right?”
I got a small hum in response. (Y/N) leaned on my shoulder, and I felt my face heat up…The coolest person I know is asleep. On. My. Shoulder.
CLICK!
I looked up to see Ash, the sound technician, taking a picture of us.
“Hey, what the heck?!” I said indignantly.
They grinned. “You two are adorable.”
UH OH. This is bad, this is bad, no no no no no no no….
“Uh, n-no we’re not! We’re not dating, I-I don’t like (Y/N)!”
“What?”
I winced. Of course (Y/N) chose this moment to wake up! Oh no, uh..
“I mean, I-I like you, (Y/N), a-a lot, but-”
Ash grinned. “Yeah (Y/N), he mumbled your name when you guys were sleeping earlier!”
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, but what in the world is going on right now?”
“Wirt’s confessing his love!” Ash smiled. AHHHHH!
“NO!”
The entire van went silent, as everyone paused their conversations to turn and stare at us.
“Ha, that-that came out louder than I meant it to…I…hmm. Uh…nothing to see here, guys, really.”
“Oh, Wirt, you’re finally telling (Y/N) your true feelings?” Asked Kathleen. NOOO…
“No, because we’re just friends!” I snapped.
“But Greg said-”
“That was…a different (Y/N)! One that doesn’t go to this school, so don’t worry.”
“It was?” (Y/N) said, sounding wounded.
“Yeah, s-so it’s fine! Everything…is fine.” I sighed.
The chatter resumed, and Ash shook their head and went back to talking to Shae.
(Y/N) looked away from me and stared out the window.
…should I say anything? Is…is (Y/N) okay? My heart panged as I realized that (Y/N) was probably embarrassed that people thought we were dating. (Y/N) is way out of my league, I’m an idiot for even trying….What would someone cool do right now? ….Ha, someone cool wouldn’t even be in this situation…
I stared at my hands. The jacket was a bit too big, and the end of the sleeve had swallowed my palms. Suddenly I didn’t feel cool anymore. I felt like a dumb little kid, one who was masqurading as a highschooler…
“Hey, nice jacket.” (Y/N) said, turning back to me. “It suits you.”
Wait, what?
I smiled. “Thanks. I…well, it was my dad’s.”
“Well, he has good taste in fashion.”
“Thanks! I wasn’t sure about it, but…well, thanks.”
(Y/N) nodded and put the earbuds back on, once again staring out the window. My face felt like it was on fire.
Maybe tonight would go well after all.
*******
We pulled into the festival at about five o’clock. It was in the middle of an old pumpkin patch, surrounded by orange trees. There were teens and adults of all sorts everywhere. My eyes followed a girl in a full on Victorian dress as she held hands with an emo boy in fishnet stockings. A pair of middle aged men dressed in classic monster costumes carried their sleeping daughter who was dressed as a werewolf. There were even a couple people who wore newly carved pumpkins on their heads, reminding me of Pottsfield…And although they all looked so, so different, they all seemed like the sort to enjoy dancing under the October moon.
“C’mon, Wirt! Let’s go to the vendors!” Grinned (Y/N), grabbing my hand.
The vendors were full of a wide variety of things, from t-shirts to handmade leather bags. (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled at the sight of it all….I wish they would sparkle like that for me, but I don’t deserve that…
Anyways.
“Ooh, look! Apple cider!”
Ah, of course (Y/N) was drawn to that stall. It stood out amongst the basic vendors, in that it was decorated with autumn leaves and smelled strongly of pumpkin….again, it brought me back to Pottsfield, with the unpaved trails, the fields of autumnal bounty, and the sounds of people singing as they danced through the night…
“Hey Wirt? You done?”
I snapped out of my thoughts.
“Ahh! Oh, um. Yes, sorry, I-I’m sorry about that-”
“Perfect! Try this!” (Y/N) said, handing me a doughnut. “It’s pumpkin flavored. You’ll love it.”
“He-ey, I’m not that crazy about pumpkin flavored things…” I chuckled, biting into the doughnut.
“Hmmm, then why is it that you always order pumpkin spiced lattes, always pick pumpkin pie over apple, and always smell like pumpkins?”
“What? No I don’t.” I said, but smelled my shirt anyways. I didn’t smell anything, but whatever.
But shoot, it was really good. Like….like pumpkins tend to be.
“Man, I am so glad the play sold so well,” (Y/N) sighed, taking a sip of apple cider.
So was I. It was the ticket revenue that was paying for this whole trip, well, that and the fact that the actress for Hero was filthy rich, and she offered to pay for the house.
There was something mesmerizing about festivals, something that almost felt dizzy. Despite the chill of the October night, I felt myself sweat as (Y/N) took my hand again. We laughed like children, taking in the sights and sounds of the autumn field. Everything seemed to be singing. I felt nearly overpowered by the nostalgia, although I couldn’t say why…And before I knew it, somehow we were dancing. There was truly something blurry about tonight, from the grainy polaroids to the roar of the music, and I felt chaotic. Unbound.
Wirt, you’re being immature! (Y/N) will think you’re stupid! My brain argued.
Shut up, Wirt. My heart answered.
*******
I found myself sprawled out in the grass a few hours later. I could only ignore my brain for so long, and my anxieties returned with a vengeance. My thoughts were still rendered a little vauguer than usual though, and although the music had wound down, the festivities were still in full swing.
(Y/N) returned then, with a blanket and a basket full of stuff.
“Well, glad I found you again, Shakespeare! I brought snacks and I’m willing to share them…on the condition that you share this blanket with me.”
I blushed and nodded. Of course I was willing.
“Perfect!” Answered the grinning teen. I felt the blanket on my shoulders as (Y/N) wrapped it around us, and tried to hide my even bigger blush at how close together we were now.
“Well, as promised, here’s your reward,” (Y/N) said, handing me a chunk of bread.
“Thanks.” I smiled, and took a bite. It was really good bread.
I looked around the field. People were mostly gathered around bonfires, with (Y/N) and I being part of the minority that wasn’t.
“Hey Wirt, you wanna do somethin’ fun?”
“Yeah, what?”
(Y/N) grinned, pulling a pack of cards out of the snack basket.
“How ‘bout a little glimpse into the future?”
Ohhh, tarot cards.
“You ever done this before?”
“No…what do I do?” I asked curiously. The cards were really quite pretty, with gold and blue moon designs on the back. My brain churned with fascination. I had always been curious about tarot, but with how religious my mom was, I had never had the chance.
“Well, you ask a question. Anything works, really, but you’ve gotta really feel it. Don’t ask me how, as I frankly don’t have a clear answer, but you’ll know what question is best.”
I nodded slowly. “Sh-should I tell you my question, or…”
(Y/N) shrugged. “You can, if you want, it’s really up to you…but I can offer insights and help you understand the meaning of the card in your specific circumstance. It can be unclear sometimes, it’s like deciphering a prophecy at Delphi.”
“Hmm. Okay…I guess I have a question.” I began, feeling awkward. “Uhh…how will I manage to do what I set out to do tonight?”
(Y/N) shuffled the cards and fanned them out for me.
“Pick the one that you feel drawn to, okay? Again, it’s all very personal, but when you know, you know.”
I reached for one that was partially obscured by another card. I tugged it out of the deck, and handed it to (Y/N).
“The six of swords?” I shrugged.
“Ooh, this one should be helpful…unlike a lot of cards, this one is pretty specific. It basically means to let go of what’s holding you back, and you’ll find yourself headed to calmer waters…It’s a nifty card for the indecisive, like myself.” (Y/N) chuckled, and tapped the cards back together.
Huh. I guess that makes….a lot of sense. I sighed. It made too much sense.
“So, does that answer your question?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I think I know what I should do now, I just don’t know if I have the guts to do it.”
“Well, I’m sure you do- you’re brave, and witty- if anyone can do it, I’m sure it’s you, Wirt- besides, it’s written in the stars!” (Y/N) chuckled, waving the tarot cards dramatically.
“What’s your favorite constellation?” I asked impulsively.
“Huh, never been asked that one before…I like (your favorite constellation). It’s pretty, I guess. But I think I just like stars in general.”
I nodded. “I like stars too. Isn’t it weird to think that we’re sitting under the same sky as…like, the ancient Greeks, who named the constellations? And all the sailors who used them as a map? They’re like…like a relique, you know?” I chuckled nervously as I realized I had been rambling.
But (Y/N) nodded, eyes lighting up.”They are! It’s comforting, to know that even though nothing lasts forever, the stars will come quite close….. Do you think that hundreds of years ago, there were two teenagers, just like us, who sat under these same stars?”
I smiled. “Definitely. And one of them was probably really cool, and played the lead role in the play or something. And, like, listened to tape recorders with the idiot they have to deal with all the time.”
“Aw Wirt, they didn’t have tape recorders back then….nah, the idiot was probably really cute and played clarinet, and liked spending time with the first idiot.”
I shook my head. “No, the first one wasn’t an idiot…they were way too fun to be stupid.”
“Wirt, everyone is an idiot!” (Y/N) laughed. “Like that guy over there, with the turtleneck and tweed blazer? He’s a complete doofus. And that lady, with the labcoat? She recently learned that credit cards aren’t just free money. And that child, the one with over there by the hay ride? That’s the dumbest one of them all. Although, I could be biased- he stole my candy apple.”
I grinned. “(Y/N), you’re not an idiot, so I don’t think you get to talk.” (Y/N) snorted. “Sure. If I weren’t an idiot, then why am I doing this?”
I raised an eyebrow. (Y/N) wasn’t doing anything, just staring at me.
“Doin’....what?”
(Y/N) groaned. “See, this is exactly what I mean. I meant to give you a hug and knock us both onto the ground, but…I’m an idiot, and kinda froze up.”
“Why…why would you want to do that?” I mumbled, trying to hide my blush.
“Because I like idiots, mostly,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Well, one specific idiot, really…”
“You like someone?” I gasped. My heart sank. Of course…
“...Yeah, but I’m afraid to tell him.” (Y/N) murmured, leaning onto my shoulder.
I sighed. My stomach hurt, and I felt dizzy…of course….but I need to be a supportive friend. Even if that’s all I am…(Y/N) deserves that. A good friend, prepared with a decent pep talk, and I guess I was that friend…that’s okay. I’d rather (Y/N) be happy than ruin it by wallowing. I reminded myself to wallow alone later, but it the meantime…
“Well, why’s that? No sane person would say no to you,” I promised, sqeezing (Y/N)’s hand.
(Y/N) smiled. “I don’t think he’ll say no to me…actually, I’m pretty sure he has a crush on me. It’s fairly obvious.”
“So what are you afraid of?” I said softly.
“I…I just don’t know how to tell him.”
“Well, what’s he like?”
(Y/N) laughed quietly. “He’s a lot like you. Actually, Wirt, how would you want to be asked out? ‘Cause chances are, that’s how he’d want to be asked out.”
I searched for an answer. “I…I don’t know. I’ve never really been asked out.”
(Y/N) scoffed. “Bull. You’re too good looking to not get asked out.”
I shrugged. “Unless you count the times I’ve gotten love notes, I haven’t really been asked out.”
“You gotten confession notes?! Why didn’t I know that? I don’t think I knew that. But yes, that counts. Anyways….I don’t know, I feel like I’ve been dropping hints….”
I frowned. “And he still hasn’t noticed? I know you said you like idiots, but are you sure he isn’t too dumb for you?”
(Y/N) snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. “I-I mean, he’s super smart, jus-t- ha- he’s re-eally dense..”
“Maybe be blunt? Like, make it totally obvious and clear.” I suggested.
(Y/N) took a deep breath. “Okay. Uhm…Wirt? I…I love you.”
I nodded. “See, perfect! Now just tell him that. Only someone like that dumb kid who stole your apple would misinterperite that.”
(Y/N) facepalmed. “You’re lucky I like idiots.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Why…why’s that?”
“Good lord, Wirt. You’re making me question my taste in boys.”
(Y/N) pulled me forward and looked into my eyes.
My face burned as I met those (E/C) eyes staring into mine. “Uhm…hi!”
“Wirt. I know you like me. Seriously, it’s obvious.”
I nodded, looking away. “Well…yeah. I…I’m sorry (Y/N)...I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and I figured I’d rather be your friend than not have you at all, but I get that you like another boy, and obviously that’s okay, I wouldn’t want to make things weird-”
“Shut up, you dork. I appreciate that, but I need to cut you off…”
And then there were lips on mine. I felt my heart swell, and I stared forward in shock…and joy. Euphoria.
After what felt like an eternity, (Y/N) pulled away. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
I nodded. I was certainly struck dumb, that’s for sure.
“And you like idiots.” I smiled, reaching for (Y/N)’s hand. “God, you’re freezing.” I added.
“...well, dancing warms you up, right?”
“Hmm, it does, doesn’t it…”
“...let’s go.” (Y/N) smiled.
And so off we went, another pair of teens under the stars on a foggy autumn night, the same stars that were there thousands of years before we came and would be there for almost forever….eternally glimmering as they watch souls dancing under the October moon.
84 notes · View notes
clearlydiamondz · 3 years
Text
Your Only Fan
Erik!Stevens x Black!Reader
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Erik Finds out his best friend slash crush has an only fans. Things go a little right once he finds out.
Warnings: Cursing, SMUT, 18+ Content
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It was a Friday night, which meant that (Y/N) was getting a chance to see her best friend, Erik. Or E, which she calls him. It’s been a minute since she seen him considering she’s been caught up in her school work and he’s been caught up in whatever he had going on. 
Erik was excited when he saw that she messaged him, asking if he wanted to come over and watch a movie. Instantly he answered. 
E: Awe, lil baby miss me :( lol
(Y/N): how you my best friend and you don’t even come see me no more. i feel neglected.
E: Don’t worry, I’ma be there in an hour..
(Y/N): make it 30?
E: oh u desperate? aight, 30 min it is.
Erik grabbed his belongings, grabbing his adidas bag packing an overnight bag. After getting his phone and charger, he made his way out the door and to his car.
(Y/N) finished up cleaning herself up after doing a session on her Only Fans. After about an hour, she earned about a good 900 alone from just tips and subscriptions. This was one of the good nights. 
She made her way out of her bathroom, go to her little recording area cleaning all the toys and things before Erik got there. She didn’t want her best friend to find out about her dirty little secret. It was something that she wanted to keep buried for as long as she could.
She wasn’t ashamed of being a sex worker, she supported other girls. Spoke very strongly about it online. Even did some work with other girls and guys. She just didn’t want everything to change between her and Erik if he ever found out. 
She was in the kitchen making her famous dip when she heard the door open. She looked up and saw Erik walking in with his things in his hands. “Wassup big head?” he said walking into the apartment as she smile at him.
“Hi E, so I found this perfect movie for us to watch.” she said as he groaned. 
“It better not be no scary movie.” he said as she pouted. 
“Nevermind,..” she mumbled looking down as he laughed. “Lemme put my shit down and Ima come show you some love.” he said as she nodded. There was no question that had (Y/N) had feelings for her best friend. How could she not? He was handsome, kept up with himself, a gentlemen. The way he talked and made her blush. It was hard not to have feelings for this man.  
Erik walked into the room putting the extra clothes in the empty drawer she had for him. As he was putting the clothes inside, she heard his phone going off. He grabbed it seeing that it was one of his friends, Tyrel sending him an iMessage and picture. 
Ty: bro , u know bout this??
Erik confused, opened up the picture to see an Only Fans profile. He was about to question him about it until he saw the profile picture.
“Is that-”
PearlyPerfection
Hi, my name is (Y/N), come visit me on my page to come play with me. 
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself. It took everything in him not to pull up OnlyFans on his phone, but it was failed. Miserably. He searched her name, sitting on the bed looking at one of the thumbnails on the videos. He saw that it was a price for ten dollars a month for the basic subscription fee. After paying for it, he clicked on the video. 
“Hi daddy...’ she seductively whispered to the camera. She had on a white and black school girl outfit that barely covered her ass and pussy. Her skin was oiled, shining looking like  milk chocolate. “My pussy been so wet just thinking about you. Do you want to see?” she gushed biting her lip.
Erik couldn’t contain the weapon that swing between his legs. Just by the second it was getting harder looking at her. She sat back against the pillows opening her legs to show her wetness. 
Okay.. now I understand why she’s called Pearly Perfection...
If it wasn’t perfect, it was close to. The wetness spread across her outer lips, making her skin gloss. She spread her lips with her fingers, the yellow acrylic really contemplating her skin complexion, letting the wetness get on her fingers as she moved it up and downward to the entrance. 
“Ooh that feels good..” she moaned quietly to herself. She dipped a finger inside, slowly fucking herself with it.  She lifted her leg, slapping her vulva before leaning forward grabbing something behind the camera. She came back into frame with a clear dildo. She grabbed it, looking into the camera before licking the tip of it. She placed her mouth on it before deep throating it, basically shallowing the entire thing.
“Damn-”
“Erik!” he heard from the kitchen. “Everything good?” 
“Uh yeah, I’m coming!” he exclaimed standing up. He exited the tab before placing his phone in his hoodies pocket. He stood up adjusting his issue, before walking out to the kitchen to see her pouring dip chips into the bowl. 
“You good? Look like you seen some shit?” she said chuckling as he shook his head. 
“If only you knew.” he whispered but she heard him. 
“Did you say something?”
“Nah..” he walked into the living room grabbing the remote as she looked at him a bit confused. Damn, I can’t even get a hug.. 
She grabbed the dip and chips walking to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. She walked back grabbing herself a wine cooler and Erik a beer. She walked back walking past him plopping down on the sofa. 
“I hope you found a good movie since you want to watch a damn scary movie.” she joked, all Erik did was just chuckle before going through the list. She looked at Erik waiting for a smart comeback but nothing.  
“Erik... are you okay?” she asked him touching his cheek as he looked at her.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” 
“You’re acting strange. If something happened than you can talk to me.” she reassured him as he smiled. Erik turned back to the screen before picking a random action film.
About an hour into the movie, (Y/N) leaned forward grabbing some dip and chips, her shirt was risen up a bit showing her red laced underwear and her back side. It was usual that (Y/N) dressed like that around him, they were comfortable with it. But for known reasons, it had Erik squirming in his seat. She looked back to see why he was moving so much. 
“Erik.. are you sure you’re okay?” she asked him as he nodded. She leaned back and he moved to the opposite side of her. “That’s it.” she grabbed the remote pausing the movie. 
“The hell is wrong with you?” she asked him standing up as he looked up at her. 
“What do you mean? I’m not-”
“Yes you are. You acting like you can’t touch me. You haven’t even eaten my dip and you eat my shit up as soon as it hits the table. I know when there is something wrong with you and there is something bothering you.” she said to him as he sighed scratching the back of his neck. 
“Okay, I’m going to be honest with you but be honest with me.” he said as she nodded. “Do you have an only fans?” The question rightfully was a curve ball but she would never like to Erik. Plus, if he was asking about it most likely he already knew the answer.
“Yes..” she trailed off. “How did you find out?” she asked him. Her heart was beating fast, so loud she could hear it in her own ears. 
“Ty sent me a picture of the profile.” he said as she rolled her eyes. 
“Wow, creepy ass nigga.” she said smacking her teeth. 
“No offense but there are a bunch of creepy ass niggas on Only Fans.” he said sitting up as she sighed. “Why you never told me about this?”
“Look how you’re acting. You can’t even touch me. I don’t want it to change things between us. That’s the last thing that I want to happen. A-And your acting different.” she pouted as he sighed. “Like if you ashamed that you are friends with me just up and say that. Trust me, it’s feels way more better than being- than being treated like I’m dirty or something.” Erik saw her eyes watering, and his entire mood changed. For a split second he forgot he was friends with a water bag.
“Wait, (Y/N) it’s not like that.” he stood up cupping her cheeks in his hands looking at her. “I don’t care what you do , you will always my best friend. I won’t ever look at you differently.” he said to her as she started to sniffle. 
“So why are you acting like this?”
Erik mentally cursed at himself. Now he really is going to have to admit that he watched a video and felt some type of way about it. It was all happening the wrong way. “Before I admit it to you, there is something else I should admit first" he said as she nodded. She sat down as he sat down beside her. 
“First of all, I’m admitting this to you because I’ve let this shit drag on for way to long and I need to just to say it. (Y/N), I’ve always had a thing for you. I’ve always wanted you to be mine. Like in a way where we are more than just bestfriends.” he said as she took it all in. 
"Erik I-"
“Wait, I’m not done yet. Out of curiosity, I went to your profile and I saw one of you’re videos. Ima keep it real, shit was sexy as hell. To the point where I wanna fuck the shit outta you.” he admitted. If there was one thing that she loved about him was how honest he was. 
“Okay, I just want to start off by saying that I have feelings for you too. And I want to be more than just best friends...” she trailed off as he smiled at her. “And another thing, if you have an Only Fans, doesn’t that make you one of those creepy ass niggas that-” her sentence was cut off by him pinching her thigh. “Ow.. that hurt.” she pouted as he smirked at her. There was something in his eyes that she never seen before. She stood up before straddling his lap as his hands gripped her waist. 
“Oh you bold.” he said as she nodded. 
“So tell me, what did you think about my videos?” she whispered in his ear. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt her lips kissing along his neck. 
“They were something.. I- ooh.” he moaned out as she started to whine directly on his dick. She grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head showing his bare chest. She traced her hands up his chest before throwing across his shoulders. 
Erik leaned in, brushing his lips passed hers smirking. With a brief movement her lips connected with his, him immediately dominating hers. He kinda tasted the cherry lip balm that was on her lips, that made her lips smooth and soft. Their tongues traced along each others in a way, like Erik was giving up his dominance. 
She bit her lip, standing up from his lap as she smirked at him. “What you doin/” he asked her. When she didn’t give him an answer, she got on her knees. “(Y/N).’ he said in a warning tone. 
“What’s wrong daddy?” she asked him. The way she said that you would think it was sinful. “I always thought about you fucking my throat, Erik.” she said as she smiled. She pulled the waist band down from his Nike Sweat pants, noticing he was free balling. “Oh you are big...” she said grabbing the base of it. She squeezed it making him jolt his hips forward. 
She kissed the tip, licking along it tasting his pre-cum. She knew Erik always kept up with himself. Drinking water and eating fruit. If he tasted like this now, she wanted to taste him when he bust in her mouth. 
She wrapped her lips around his erection, before going downward, letting her throat relax around him. “Nasty ass bitch..” he grunted thrusting his hips upward. Seeing him like this had her dripping down her thighs. 
She was messy, he liked that. Spit dropped down her chin along pre-cum.
“This is how you do it, huh? Freaky ass...” he said throwing his head back. She smiled at him. She hallowed her cheeks inward to make it tighter as he grunted. He grabbed her lifting him as she pouted. 
“Fuck wrong with you?” he asked her.
“I wanted you to cum in my mouth..” she said as he chuckled. He leaned forward kissing her, there tongues sliding against each other. She was just like him she liked having that shit messy. 
“Let me ride it, daddy..” she whispered to him, stroking his dick as he stood up. They quickly took off all their clothes as she pushed him back on the sofa. She hovered over it and before she could sit on it, he stopped her.
“You still on the pill, right?” he asked her as she nodded. 
“Yeah I am..” she said making him smirk. 
“Thank God, I don’t plan on pulling out.” he said as she bit her lip. She sink herself on it as the both of them whispered out a quiet ‘fuck’. By far, Erik was one of the biggest nigga’s she been with. She had dildos his size probably a little bigger, but it was different because he was fucking her back. 
“Tight ass pussy, this shit wet for me huh?’ he grunted in her ear as she gasped. All she could do was moan. “Answer me..” he started to thrust his hips upward s she moaned out. 
“Fuck, yes daddy.” she gasped out as he smirked, He was hitting a spot that she ain’t even believe was possible to reach. He rotated his hips in a way that made him hit ever inch of her wall. 
“You’re so fucking deep, I feel it in my stomach.” she gasped as he smirked. 
“Yeah take all this big dick. Take it like a big girl. Making a mess all over my shit, I should have you’re nasty ass get down on your knee’s and clean it up.” he taunted her as she fucked him back. She gained her confidence back. 
She purposely made herself tight as he halted his movements. He leaned back grabbing her waist as she smiled. “Does it feel good, daddy?” she asked him as he grunted squeezing his eyes shut. 
“You tryna make me bust this quick? Huh? Get up. I got something for you’re ass.” he said. She lifted herself off as he stood up. He picked her up, walking to her bedroom. He threw her on the bed getting in between her legs. She prepped herself up to see what he was doing as he kissed her up along her thighs. 
He licked along her folds as she let out a huge sigh. He moved his tongue in slow circular motion applying pressure. “Oh shit, just like that.” she gasped. He moved his tongue downward to her entrance. She started to grind herself against his mouth, basically using him. 
“That’s it, use my fucking mouth bitch.” he grunted. His tongue was demonic. She wasn’t expecting to come so close but damn was she getting a run for her money.
“FUCK! ERIK! YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM...” 
“Who’s stopping you?” he said to her. Within a couple of seconds, she came all over his tongue in lips with a piercing scream. 
“Ass up face down. I’m beating that shit up until I’m done.” he grunted out at her. She turned on her stomach before lifting her ass in the air, creating the perfect arch.
Coming from behind, he entered her nice and slow as he winced. “Shit don’t make no sense. Why you giving me this good pussy, huh?” he said fucking her and she moaned. “I ain’t tell you again, answer me.”
“Because your dick feel so good in my pussy daddy..” she moaned out, gripping the sheets. She started fucking him back at the same pace. “Cum inside me please... I want it so bad.” she moaned as he smiled. 
“Yeah, beg for my shit. Nasty Ass,” he grunted slapping her ass making her scream.. “Pussy making a straight up mess on my dick... shit fucking creaming.” he said looking at his dick. He paused her movement as she gasped at the sudden halt. 
Erik was in a complete shock about what was happening. He was finally digging in her guts and he was about to bust all in her. He pulled out flipping her on her back as he settled in between her lips. 
“Baby...” she moaned out as he smiled. Genuinely smiled. 
“Talk to me..” he whispered kissing her shoulders as she shuttered.
“I’m so close.. please baby.” she whispered back looking into his eyes. The energy in the room instantly shifted. They weren’t fucking any more, they were making love.
He inserted himself inside of her as she let out at a satisfied sigh. He gave her slow strokes as he put his hands behind her to hold himself up. The strokes were slow and deep. 
(Y/N) thought that the only sex she could enjoy was rough and hard, but she was just proven wrong about everything. She was loved this feeling. She didn’t know if it was because it was with Erik, but she needed more of this. 
Erik was in his own world. His main focus was to make her cum. And he was  close to itg just by the feeling. She was gripping him to the point where it was hard for him to move. 
“Loosen up ma, shit tight as hell.” he said chuckling as she moaned. 
“I’m sorry I’m so close..” she said as he nodded. He was close too, and most likely was going to cum before her. 
Within a couple of seconds later he came deep. She felt his heavy load paint her walls, that triggered her own orgasm. She clawed at his back, definitely drawing a bit of blood. He collapsed right beside her as they both looked at each other. 
“You do know that means that you are mine, right?” he said to her as she chuckled looking up at the ceiling. “I’m serious. I’m the only one that need to be getting all in that, you understand me?” he said as she nodded. 
“Loud and clear..” she whispered before tucking herself under the covers. 
“Quick question... why did you start doing it?” he asked as she sighed. 
“Like two years ago, money got real tight. I started doing it, honestly I thought that it was just gonna be something for me to extra money on but than I blew up, and I started to get a lot of money from it. Now, I make enough money on it to pay all my bills, plus more. Including my job down at the restaurant.” she admitted to him. 
“Hm, well I understand..” he said. Their was a sudden silence until he spoke up again. 
“You could join me on my Only Fans. My fans would love seeing you fuck me.” she joked as he raised an eyebrow at her. 
“Shit, I don’t mind.” 
“Wait you serious.” 
“Dead ass.”
The next morning, Erik woke up in the bed, where it was empty. The smell of her cooking made him get out of the bed. After brushing his teeth and what not, he made his way into the kitchen to see she was making homemade pancakes. 
The only thing she had on was one of Erik’s T-Shirts that he left over her the last time he was here, with some a pair of boy shorts. “Good morning.” he said walking behind her wrapping his arms around her waist kissing her neck as she smiled. 
“Good morning to you too.” she placed the batter on the counter, turning around to look at him. 
“Mm, you smell good.” he said. “I’m so glad that I can finally call you mine.” he replied as she smiled at him. Here she was thinking that it was just something said in the moment, but she was glad the feelings were genuinely real.
“I am too..”
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jmagnabo92 · 2 years
Text
Sirius Returns
Snippet - sort of, for a Sirius returns from the veil fic.  Home Series.
June 18th, 2006
         In the days leading up to June 18th, Harry James Potter always finds himself feeling a little gloomy.  Unlike the other major days marked during the war: May 2nd and June 30th, this day is the only day that solely affects Harry because a decade previously, he’d lost the one person that meant the world to him: Sirius Orion Black, his godfather.  
         Sirius had always put Harry first, loved him and only him, supported him, helped him with the Dursleys, and did everything that he could for him. Unfortunately, when he was fifteen, he’d fallen for Voldemort’s trap and instead of rescuing Sirius – Sirius ended up dead.  He’s never forgiven himself for that.
Which is why the anniversary of his death every year he has Andromeda Tonks (Sirius’ cousin and the grandmother to his godson/son) watch his godson/son Teddy Potter (previously Lupin) overnight.  
This is why he’s packing his eight-year-old's overnight bag and trying to keep him calm (because he always gets extra excited when he’s off to grandma’s house), when he hears the floo go off.  “Harry!  Harry!”
Confused, and unexpected, Harry heads down the stairs of their cottage to see the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, himself, in his fire.  Although on friendly terms with the Minister given the time that they’ve spent as part of Dumbledore’s Order and the cleanup of the Wizarding World after the war, Harry hadn’t really talked to him often in recent years because he’s been busy with his own endeavors and had chosen not to pursue a career at the Ministry as an Auror after the hell of the war.
“Kingsley, what can I do for you?”
“There was an incident at the DOM - I need you to come to St. Mungos,” Kingsley states and when Harry opens his mouth to say that he doesn’t have anything to do with the Ministry to be summoned, he adds, “It’s Sirius.”
“Sirius?” Harry asks, stunned.  His heart beating fast, and he’s almost panicking.  “Is he – did he?”
“He came out of the veil – he’s at St. Mungos.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
***
It took less than ten minutes to get Teddy to Andy’s, say goodbye, and be walking up to Sirius’ hospital room.  He couldn’t believe that he’s about to get his godfather back.  He just hopes that Sirius is as happy as he is to be back.
“Harry!  Oh, thank Merlin!  Tell them I'm fine and to let me go,” Sirius insists upon seeing him, clearly happy. His hair falls in waves to his shoulders, shiny and clean, his grey eyes sparkling in a way that Harry had only seen briefly, and he looks to be about ten years younger than when he died.  He looks just as handsome and happy as he’d been in his photographs.  It’s amazing.
“You have to be checked over,” the healer insists. “You just came out of a death veil, and you won’t let me check you over!”
“I feel fine!  Harry, please tell her I’m fine.”
Harry looks at the healer, who turns out to be Lisa Turpin, “Healer Turpin, please let me talk to him – I’ll convince him to let you check him out if you come back shortly.”
Lisa gives him a look, “Only because it’s you – by the way, the Minister said that we’re keeping this a secret because he knows it’s going to blow up in the paper – so don’t let anyone in unless it’s me, him or my underling Natalie McDonald.”
“Understood.”
Lisa leaves, closing the door behind her, and leaving Harry alone with Sirius.  He looks good, just as good as he does in Harry’s photos from his parents’ wedding. His eyes are sparkling in a way that they barely ever did since they met, and he looks genuinely happy.  
“Harry!” Sirius cheers.  “You’re all grown up – they won’t tell me anything, but it’s been a while, yes?”
Harry’s still standing there in awe, the thing he’d been dreaming about for years – Sirius coming back – finally has happened and he’s in utter shock.  
“Harry?” Sirius questions.  “Are you okay?”
Shaking his head, Harry chuckles, “Uh yeah – yeah, I’m fine just in shock.”
Sirius laughs, “Yeah, I was kind of in shock when I was dragged here.”
“Dragged?” Harry questions moving next to the bed. “Sirius, you fell out of the veil after being in there for ten years and – and it’s natural to worry about your health. Although you look good.”
Sirius grins, “Thanks!  I feel great!  Tell me – ten years?  What did I miss?”
“Alot, but before I get into all that, will you please let Healer Turpin check and make sure that you’re okay?”
Sirius groans, “I don’t want to be poked and prodded.”
“Please?  Do it for me? So that way I can be sure you’re not going to disappear on me, again?” Harry asks.  He wants to make sure Sirius is fine and okay so that he doesn’t get invested in having Sirius back if he might disappear in a day, a week, a month or anytime really.  
“Can I at least get a hug first?” Sirius questions.
“Of course,” Harry gives him a hug, relishing in holding Sirius for the first time in a decade.  “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Sirius replies, holding him just as tightly, a hand in Harry’s hair, messing it up playfully. When they let go, they both have tears in their eyes.  
“Um, I’m going to go get the healer, behave for her, okay?”
“I promise I will.”
***
While Sirius is getting poked and prodded by the healer, Harry sits with Kingsley in the hallway, a spell to keep their privacy surrounding them.  “So, fill me in – how did this happen?”
Kingsley sighs, “We’re not really sure.  There was a disturbance in the DOM – there were strange readings for the last week, they were trying to study those readings and figure out what they mean when Sirius popped out this morning.  The readings stopped after.  We’re guessing that the readings were indicating that someone was finding their way back to the living.”
“And - and he’s not going to disappear or anything, right?  He’s here to stay?”
“He’s here to stay, and – and I – there was something I've never told you.”
Harry gives him a look, “Is it about Sirius?”
“Yes - I...”
“Never cleared his name?  I knew I was a mess after the war and in my unofficial 8th year at Hogwarts, but you promised me that you had cleared him,” Harry states angrily.  
“I know - I know, it just – it wasn’t that important –”
“It was to me!”
“Harry –”
“It’s the only thing I asked for.  It was the personal favor to me that I requested – everything else I've done was mainly for other people – this was for me.”  He’s sure the look on his face shows the utter betrayal he felt that everything else he requested (that were for other people) got done, but the one thing just for him didn’t – of course no one really cared what he wanted. “I could’ve asked for the world after the way I was treated, anyone would’ve given me whatever I wanted and all I asked for was for Sirius’ name to be cleared.”
“I know, but I also know that we had alive death eaters to bring to trial and imprison...”
“And by a year after you would’ve had plenty of time to do it,” Harry finishes.  “But let me guess, the Wizengamot figured that it didn’t matter because he was dead? Or maybe you didn’t.”
“I did - I just – it wasn’t top priority.”
“Make it top priority,” Harry states, fiercely. “Because I will not let him be a fugitive for the rest of his life.”
“It’ll take a couple of weeks to get the paperwork sorted out.”
“As long as it gets done as soon as possible because he has already had too much of his life taken away from him.”
“I understand.  I will take care of it, I’ll let you know when.”
“Thank you.”
***
“So, how’s he doing?” Harry asks as he reenters Sirius’ hospital room.  
“I can’t believe that he’s actually in perfect health,” Lisa replies.  “There’s nothing wrong with him – you'd never know that he was dead less than four hours ago.”
Harry smiles, “Good, when can I take him home?”
“Take me home?  What am I a new puppy?”
“Sometimes,” Harry grins at him, then looks back at Lisa. “So?”
“Let’s just keep an eye on him tonight and then you can take him home tomorrow if nothing else comes up.”
“And I can stay the night with him?”
She gives him a look, “Knowing you if I say no, you’ll just sneak in afterhours anyway, right?”  Harry shrugs, he doesn’t need to deny it because she knows it would be a lie.  “Fine, you can stay.”
“Thank you.”
She rolls her eyes, leaves them alone.
“So, are you okay with staying with me for a while?” Harry asks.  “I probably should’ve asked sooner, but I – you know...”
“Of course, Harry.  I'm delighted that you even want to offer me a place to stay and put up with me for who knows how long.”
“Put up with you?  Sirius, you are so much more than that – you, I finally have you back – I wasn’t going to let you stay anywhere else.”
Sirius grins, “I’m glad that you care about me the same way I do for you.”
“Of course, you’re Sirius – I can’t even explain what you mean to me.”
“You can try,” Sirius suggests.  “Maybe start by filling me in on your life – everything I've missed from even before I died.”
“It’s a long story.”
“One worth hearing, I’m sure.”
Harry grins and for the first time in a decade, he happily spends the night sharing stories with Sirius instead of getting drunk at some bar.
June 19th, 2006
Sirius couldn’t be happier if he tried.  Despite still having to stay inside and away from the public for a while, he’s happily heading home with Harry, his godson, the kid that he promised a home to ages ago.  He can vaguely remember the afterlife, enough to tell Harry that his parents love him and are so proud of him, and enough to feel at peace with what happened before he died, but nothing else.  This, however, being back with Harry and finally fulfilling his promise to be around for him is the best feeling in the world.  
“So, like I said, I always thought about living in the home you gave me, but I you hated it there and I didn’t want to be reminded of that, so instead, I bought a home in the country,” Harry says, as he pulls the car into the driveway of a nice two-story cottage.  “So, I thought about what kind of house we would’ve had if you’d been free when I was thirteen and I designed and had it built while I was finishing my last year at Hogwarts even with the fee I paid to Gringotts for breaking in (which was rather small since I argued they got involved in a wizards’ war when they wouldn’t have let me come get my gold when I was Undesirable Number 1) it was done by the time I came home for the holidays.”
“So what you’re saying is that I should absolutely give you a glowing compliment of my new home?” Sirius teases.  
“I didn’t - I wasn’t –”
“Harry, I’m sure the place looks great and it’s perfect because it has my favorite person living in it and it’s not Grimmauld Place.”
Harry smiles, “I know that, logically, it’s just ...”
“You’re eager to impress me because of the Dursleys?” Sirius asks.  He knows enough about Harry’s life with them to know how important his opinion is for Harry. “Unlike them, I have loved you since before you were born, you don’t have to impress me (even though you do) to make me love you.”
Harry shakes his head.  “Even more than five years since I’ve seen them at the trial, nine years since I left their house, I still struggle with those old feelings of never being good enough – it doesn’t help the way that the Wizarding World treats me.”
Sirius nods, knowing that it’s difficult to fight how you’re raised (he’s done it himself), even after knowing that it was wrong (evidenced by the 20 years in prison for child abuse).  As they exit the car, and head up the walk to the porch, which has a series of lilies, primroses, carnations, and buttercups, Sirius chooses to comment on that instead of the Dursleys, “Four types of flowers?”
“Hmm-mm, mum’s namesake, grandmum’s namesake, and the favorite flowers of my Potter grandmother according to some letters and journals I found, and Andy’s favorite flowers.”
“Ah, four important women in your life that you may not have spent a lot of time with, but you want to have them with you in spirit.”
Harry nods, “I wish that I could’ve known them, but I didn’t, and this is... my way of having their influence of my life.”
“So, you’re close with Andy, then?  We didn’t really talk much past the war and going back to Hogwarts afterwards.”
“Hmm-mm, well, it’s been a complicated decade,” Harry says, “But I’ll explain a bit as I give you a tour.”
Sirius nods looking around the foyer that opens up into the sitting room, which looks comfortable and has a lot of pictures of Harry’s friends and family in addition to a telly and what appears to be muggle video games and movies.  The picture of his parents’ wedding is large and over the fireplace, a place of pride. He leads Sirius to the left away from the stairs and into a kitchen, which is surprisingly large and stocked. There’s a handful of quotes on the walls and various cookbooks.  At least one of which looks homemade, he smiles, “Molly’s?”
Harry nods.  “Yes, even though she was disappointed that I’ll never officially be a Weasley by marrying Ginny after the war, she still wanted me to think of myself as family as she thinks of me as family – thus, a Molly Weasley cookbook.”
Sirius raises his eyebrows, “You dated Ginny?”
“Yes, it wasn’t really worth it – a few weeks of peace and fun in sixth year and over two years to make things better with Ron.”
“Make things better?”
“He was upset that I was ‘messing her round’ according to him just because I was sixteen and under constant threat of Voldemort and broke up with her to protect her and after I no longer had Voldemort to worry about, I wasn’t ready to settle down or get seriously involved with anyone - I wanted to relax and experience life for the first time. Ginny understood even if she never gave up on me and Ron, well, he told me I never should’ve gone out with her if I wasn’t sure where I wanted it to go and … frankly, Bill and Charlie had to sit him down and tell him that it’s not normal for teenagers to fall in love and get married with the person they dated at fifteen/sixteen.”
“That took over two years?” Sirius questions.
“Oh, no.  He just didn’t want to listen – until Hermione broke it off with him and he realized that his brothers were right.  We were okay, just not as close in our make-up seventh year that was treated as an eighth year, especially given that I was co-head boy with Neville.” Harry grins, “Guess Dad and I were alike in that regard, Captains sixth year and Head Boy despite not being Prefect seventh year.”
Sirius smiles, “I’m sure they were – are proud of you even without those titles.”
“Hmm-mm, me too,” Harry agrees, leading him out of the kitchen into a secondary sitting room that has a ceiling that looks to the sky outside as it’s pure glass, as is the other walls, since this sitting room clearly sticks out beyond the limits of the rest of the house.  “I like the openness of the room having been locked in on more than one occasion, so this room allows for me to – to have the openness whenever I need it.”
Sirius nods, “I definitely understand that.”  He looks passed the double doors, “Is that a little quidditch pitch, pool and hammock?”
Harry nods, “You know how much I love to fly. This house is on several acres of land for that specific reason.  I also have the pool charmed so that I could use it year-round.”
“Nice.”
Moving back into the kitchen and the first sitting room, Sirius notes a bathroom, a study, and a closet before two sets of stairs, one going down and one going up.  
“The basement doesn’t have much down there, more like a testing ground for spells and things, not really worth seeing.  I toyed around with having it be some sort of mini cinema, but haven’t quite figured it out yet,” Harry says, leading them upstairs.  “I opted to take on Quidditch after school – played Seeker for England, I needed a break from being responsible for people’s safety.  Unfortunately, while I got to enjoy the high life of being a bachelor, it came with reporters and the press, and it sucked.”
“Given everything from your fourth and fifth year, that makes sense – that you’d hate it,” Sirius offers.  “I’m guessing the Harry Potter Fan Club from school got that much more intense, too?”
“It was awful, sixth year was bad enough – after the war, it was worse and then being a famous quidditch player, I realized I’d never get away doing that, so – no more quidditch.”  He sounds a bit upset but is smiling none-the-less. “Anyway, it only took two years before I quit.  I just wanted a peaceful life, and with that peaceful life came –” he stops at the first bedroom door which had a name across it: Teddy’s Room.  “- a kid.”  
“Maybe you and James are a bit more alike than I thought if you knocked someone up –”
“Oh no, I was very careful given my surprise birth and my godson’s,” Harry states.  “Biologically, he’s Remus and Tonks’ kid, but I adopted him when he was four. He was born a month before the final battle where they both died, and because I talked Remus into going back to Tonks when he wanted to run from her after he knocked her up, he asked me to be godfather.”
“Remus tried to run out on my cousin?”
“He did.  Said it was a mistake and Teddy would be better off without him – although he didn’t know his name at the time.”  Harry smiles, “After the war, Andy realized that although she loved – loves him, she wanted to be a grandmother and not a mother to her grandson, I wasn’t in a position to take care of him, though – not at barely eighteen and having just spent the last year on the run – so she was his primary at first.  I spent the summer with the two of them for the most part and checked in on him whenever I could that first year.  When I finished school, she asked me if I’d take custody of him, but I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready.  She understood, after all, she loves him to pieces, she just wants to spoil him and see him for special visits, not have primary care.  So, we split custody for the next two years, helped by the fact that sometimes I wasn’t around due to traveling for the games and such.  And then when he was four,” (here, Harry’s grinning), “I realized that I was ready.  I took him full-time and just before Christmas, I signed the papers to make him mine – my son.”
“Congratulations,” Sirius grins.  “You’re obviously happy about it, so I’m happy for you.  When do I get to meet him?”
“Later, he’ll be home in time for dinner.  I always get smashed on the anniversary of your death, so I’d been packing his bag when I got the call about you – anyway, there’s multiple rooms up here for you to choose from and I’m obviously in the master bedroom.  Teddy did take one of the rooms for his toys, but we can always move if you decide you want that room.”
Sirius smiles, “I’m sure one of the other two rooms will be great.”
“Great, I recommend that one, it has a balcony charmed so that the doors can be opened, and you can see out without bugs and people seeing in, but it’s your choice.  Choose one and then get settled while I go get Andy and Teddy?”
“Brilliant.”
Sirius turns to enter the room with the balcony when Harry calls him back, “Sirius?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“I – I uh, I know you’re here to stay, and I have plenty of time to tell you this…” Harry trails off and is looking incredibly nervous.
“You can tell me anything, Harry,” Sirius smiles at him.
“I know,” Harry smiles.  “You’ve always been the only person that I know that I can tell anything to – I, I just … I really missed you, and I’m really glad you’re back because I’ve never got to tell you that – that I love you.  You were the best godfather, the only adult in my life that seemed to love me for me and –”
Sirius cuts him off with a hug.  “I know that you love me, Harry.  I love you, too.  You were a great kid, and it seems like you turned out alright.  I always loved you for you and I always will.”
“Great.  Good. I just…”
“I know,” Sirius grins.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
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thatrandomwriter · 3 years
Text
Rooftop Romance
merle x reader
warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language
“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.
“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“
“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.
“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”
T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.
“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.
“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”
Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.
“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”
My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.
I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.
“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”
“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”
“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”
I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.
“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.
“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”
The thought made me laugh a little.
“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.
“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.
“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”
“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”
I hit him on the shoulder.
“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”
I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.
The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.
“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.
“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.
“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.
“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.
His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.
“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.
“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”
It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.
“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.
“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.
*
“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.
“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“You mean it?”
“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”
I hit his shoulder with mine.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.
“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.
“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.
“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.
“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.
“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”
*
When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.
“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.
“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.
“As I’ll ever be,”
I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.
“Can I have your belt?” I asked.
“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.
I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.
Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.
“Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?
I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.
Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.
“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”
He nodded.
I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.
I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.
“You think you can stand?”
“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.
I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.
We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.
“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.
“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “
“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.
The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.
“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.
“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”
He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”
“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.
“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”
Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.
“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.
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