#how to bring love back into a relationship

[madamechrissy]

Passenger Princess

Pairings- Sylus x f! reader

Contents/warnings- you are begging Sylus to let you drive his classic car, but he never lets you! So you decide to be a bratty kitten, and suck him off to distraction. How's that work for you? MDNI- oral (m receiving) fingering, teasing, Sylus being cocky lol, established relationship, car sex, creampie, cum play, Sylus talking filthy, just a little 2k smutty oneshot hehe (also reader is a bad driver lmaoo)

Sylus always makes you a passenger princess, he never ever lets you drive anywhere. Even when he's bringing you to his mansion, he'll arrange a fancy, sleek black car to pick you up. You're a very good driver actually! You just maybe hit curbs sometimes - and once you hit a mailbox - but that's it! Also you backed into your garage but that's not even a big deal!

You pout all the time about it, begging to drive one of his many, many vintage sports cars - especially that 57' Chevy Bel Air, but Sylus just gives you that amused look, that smirk with those lidded, garnet eyes of his. 'That's real cute, sweetie' he'll purr those words out, patting your head and snatching his keys back. He's so fucking tall he loves to watch you jump, trying to snatch them back.

The two of you just left dinner at the fanciest restaurant tonight, and are headed to spend the weekend at his place. Sylus only loves the best things after all, the finest red wine still dances on your tongue, the most expensive cologne lingers in the car, spritzed along his inner wrist, tantalizing you more than you ever really admit.

You begged to drive tonight again, but of course he refused. "Sylus, seriously, let me drive this car just once! Please."

"Kitten," he trails off, eyeing you in the sleek little black dress he bought you, a big hand resting on your bare thigh now. "Those looks don't work when it comes to driving by baby."

"Am I not your baby!?" He chuckles again, white teeth glinting as the lights flash from the cars passing by.

"You are, but just sit next to me, I love looking at you."

"Look at me drive then, I'm sexy driving."

"I'm sure you're gorgeous when you hit random things," he earns another glare.

"It was just once."

"Mmm, I'm just a more experienced driver," you pout and cross your arms, earning his chuckle. "I'm so not letting you drive this one either, if you hit a curb with these rims-"

"I won't! Sylus I thought you loved me," you're playing him and he loves it, chuckling as you lean close while his car drives on the dark, empty highway. His fingers slip up your thigh and you can't hold back your whine. "Don't distract me."

"Be a good girl, and I'll make sure to make you feel so good you forget all about driving my car," he pecks a kiss on your forehead, shifting gears and speeding up then. The sight of your white haired boyfriend doing that always fucked you ovaries up. You shift in your seat, he notices, his lips quirking up now as he eyes you from the side. "I'm a good driver, and I need you safe."

"How good of a driver," you trail off, fingers drifting down his chest then, over the black button down dress shirt. You watch his jaw set, tense, vein popping out under his pale skin. "Should I test your skills?"

"You're a bratty kitten tonight, did you have too much wine?" You press a kiss to his throat, watching his adam's apple bob when you touch his cock over his slacks, he sucks in a breath, so quiet he thinks you didn't hear. "Sweetie..."

"If you can drive perfectly with my mouth on your cock, then I won't even complain anymore," you're leaned down now, unsnapping your seatbelt. He glares. "You think you'll swerve when you cum?"

"Put your seatbelt back- oh fuck, Kitten..." He's done for when you unzip him, tugging his thick, veiny cock out of his black silk boxers, the reddened tip is already leaky pearly white drops. "Tch, you want me to punish you later?"

"Yes please," he sighs, tensing when your tongue flicks over his slit, tasting the drops that are somehow so sweet, just like all of him. "If you swerve once, even once - I get to drive."

"How will you know, with my cock down your little slutty throat?" He's teetering on that edge now, desperate as you suck more of him, swirling your tongue now. He lets go of the steering wheel for just a second when you fucking hum on it. "That's... you're fucking... diabolical, you..."

You'd giggle if your mouth wasn't full of his huge cock, if you can't already tell how badly he wants you. You'd been teasing him all night under the dinner table, you live for his punishments - when he'd snap and put you right in a mating press, overstimulate you to the point of tears, and he knows you love to push him there. A little game, back and forth, till one of you snaps.

You're sucking harder now, cheeks hollowing, as a hand slips to your hair, tugging at it, the pain so good you moan. "You just wait, I'll tie you up and not let you cum, hmm sweetie? That what you want, me to toy with you over and over, and no release?"

Your tummy clenches as you choke on him, soaking wet by the time he's bucked his cock up inside your throat. Sylus can hardly focus- not that he'll admit it, but you feel so good, your throat contracting around him, taking more and more. He can feel your hands trembling as they grip his thighs, feel you taking all you can.

"Mnh..." You're whining out around him, drinking up every gasp, every time his cock throbs, hitting the back of your throat so deep. He slips his free hand down, sliding your dress up, your ass bare with just the lacy red panties he bought you to wear tonight. You're soaking them when his finger touches you, and his cock gags you just perfect.

"Already ruining my gift? You're so slutty, aren't you? Needy little thing," you're just sucking him, head bobbing, when he slips a finger inside you, moaning softly. "Oh, you're that wet"

You pull back for a moment, thighs pressing together at the stretch, his long finger snug in your tight little cunt. "Please, more."

"Thought you were 'in control' hmm? playing with me all night, don't you have a cock to deep throat, sweetie?" He's lost now, his reddened tip glossy from your spit, you suck him again, deeper, whining out when he curls his fingers, just the tips of them, a cruel tease.

He bucks up again, slipping a finger in deep - his fingers are so long, they're almost at your cervix at this angle. You're gasping and choking on him, shoulder pressing the steering wheel, but this man is still somehow driving perfectly. You can't feel a single swerve, even when you pull back to peek at him, lips coated in his precum and your drool.

"Fuck you're so pretty like this," he whispers, sitting at a red light with his foot on the brake, brushing your lower lip. The light goes green and you jerk his cock up and down, while he presses a finger in, and he swerves just a bit, cursing now, his dark brows low. "Oh you little brat."

You giggle now, swiping your lips with a little glint in your eyes that makes him want to fuck you so hard they roll back. You touch his tip and lean over, kissing up his neck, enjoying when the man that calls you kitten fucking purrs like one. "You okay, Sylus? Too much?"

"Tch," he pulls off to the side of the road suddenly with a sharp turn as you try to suck his sensitive tip again. You gasp when he yanks you up my the hair on the back of your neck, tugging sharply, those eyes flaming red in the night.

"Can I drive home then, since you swerved - Mr 'I can drive so much better than you' hmm?"

"Sure," you blink in surprise, but the look on his face is dangerous, your heart races when he continues. "Once I'm done with you."

"D-done with me - ah!" Sylus yanks you on his lap, you're trembling, the little sports car shaking as cars fly by, and he's slipped two fingers knuckle deep, you gush down them as he rocks them up and down, watching your face flush, you bite your lower lip, trembling.

He yanks them out with a suctioned pop, out of your squelching cunt now, before putting those fingers to his lips. You watch with your heart racing, cunt pulsing around nothing while he runs your slick on his lips like a gloss, sucking your cunt off those thick digits, exhaling and then eyeing you.

He caresses your cheek tenderly, as your breaths come out in little pants, firm on his lap. "Panties to the side."

"Sylus... here?" You look around wildly, and he smirks, tugging your hips down. "Oh my god I..."

"Panties. To. The. Side." You immediately obey, and Sylus sinks his tip in, stretching you out, you're quivering around him, he drinks your cry up with his hungry mouth, tongue slipping in with a filthy stroke. "Too much for your little cunt?"

You shake your head, lost for words when he angels his hips, his lengthy cock pressing in, inch by inch into your slick little hole, gummy walls gripping him, even better than your mouth. He sees your eyes roll back, as your cunt gushes down his length, wetter and wetter as you cry out his name.

"She can hardly take me, hmm?" his whisper tickles your collarbone, as he tugs a tit out, running his fingers along your nipple. You arch into it, struggling to take more of him. "Should I even let you cum after all this attitude?"

"Pl-ease... I'll be good... p-promise..." He lets out a scoff, tugging you all the way down his cock then. You're so full you cry out, nails pressing into his shoulders through the dress shirt, then he lifts you, dragging on your spot. "Ah!"

"No, I'll just use you tonight, sweetie," you're lost when he does just that, moving you up and down his cock like you're nothing, leaning the seat back and pounding up into your cunt. Your head almost smacks the roof, but he protects it, even as he's talking shit. "Just my pretty toy, aren't you? Just for me to breed, fill your cunt up?"

"Y-yes, yes, ah!" You're so close, while his thick, veiny cock stretches and stuffs your walls, his filthy words mixed with sweet ones, kissing the taste of his precum off your lips desperate, as he tugs you even closer. "M'close, please Sylus, I'll be g-good."

"No you won't," he huffs, smirking as he rolls your hips on him, but then he slips a thumb down, finding your clit, watching your pretty face as your head falls back. "But I'll let you cum, since you're so fucking pretty when you do. I'll give you what you need, sweetie."

"Ngh!" He's rolling his thumb over your clit with the perfect pressure now, eliciting desperate cries from you, as he kisses your throat, sinking his sharp teeth in at the base of it, right over your collar bone. You rock your hips and shatter for him, pulsing all around him, milking him then and there as he groans, lifting you up as you're still shaking.

He fucks you hard then once your orgasm crashes, lost in you, no more teasing no - he fucks you in deep, brutal strokes, all while he has a hand on your head to protect it from thwacking his roof, whispering your name over and over. "Can you take all of me, huh beautiful?"

You just nod eagerly when he pours so much cum inside you, you're convulsing as he thickens, sliding you down his cock once more, plump lips kissing yours messy, desperate. You're clinging to him, nails digging into the back of his neck as your fingers tug his hair, the white load of cum already pouring down.

"Fuck, you took all of it, didn't you?" He bites your lip, pumping more, your aftershocks milking him further. "Cunt is just made for me."

"It is, mnh," he smiles as he he pulls back, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Oh god, what are you planning?"

"Nothing sweetie," he drawls out those words, chuckling deeply then when he pulls you off him now, cock a dripping mess of white ropes and clear sticky strands of your arousal. "Just that you're going to drive with my cum dripping out of you."

"Sylus, I can't drive now," you whisper, too fucked out - shaky and dizzy. He shoves you in the driver's seat, and you gasp, staring at him as he zips himself up. "Sylus I really can't focus!"

"You wanted to drive home," he leans over, touching your cunt and scooping up some of his cum that pours out, slipping long fingers in your mouth. You suck eagerly, eyes fluttering shut. "Mmm, you can be a good girl. Drive home then."

"Fuck." Thighs shaking, tummy clenched, you realize you can't even drive right now, glaring daggers at him as he laughs at you.

"Something wrong sweetie?"

You never ask to drive again, not when the entire time he's fingering his cum back inside you.

ahaha this was just too fun I love Sylus hehe

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine 🍷

[salemlunaa]

LETS TALK ABOUT REVISION

ready to rewrite your life?

i used to talk about revision while operating from different beliefs, however i thought it would be great to talk about it now as i get so many asks about the subject.

In actuality, revision is an illusionistic concept. Why is that? because time isn’t real. You are SO powerful that you are imagining a “past” for yourself on the fly, and can sift through “memories” in a matter of seconds. But because we only live in a now moment, those memories are only made real by your awareness. If you were to take your awareness of a certain moment in time, it would cease to exist, until you are to bring it back to life by again putting your awareness on it.

How revision works: I’m going to use the words “train of thought” instead of “past” as the past is really just a train of thought you believe to have happened, all you have is now. There are infinite realities out there, you shift every second to a slightly different one following every decision you make. Let’s say Julia broke up with her boyfriend, that circumstance is being imagined by her, she has a train of thoughts (from finding problems in the relationship, to breaking up with him) which practically tell her she broke up with him.

Although, there is another version of her with another set of thoughts/ “memories” of her and her boyfriend being in a loving relationship. If she regrets the “decision” of breaking up with her man, she needs to shift her SELF to the person with the train of thoughts that tell her she IS in a relationship with her boyfriend, and because imagination is reality, that’s what will folllow.

A lot of you may use revision for one reason or another, but the main reason that so many seek revision is because they either regret doing something or are in a shitty situation. And i’m going to tell you that revision is just like anything other manifestation meaning: creation is finished. Regret is not a real feeling, it is an imagined feeling, that you generate because you are so fooled by the delusion that decisions are final. Once you see that none of this is real and the past doesn’t matter, you will remove all the regret from your mind,

And i know how regret feels, before coming to terms with who i actually was, it was a feeling that ate me up inside, it’s a horrible feeling, but it is illusionistic, it is only there to solidify the illusion that events and the physical is solid. Which they aren’t.

Please do not be fooled, the past is changeable because there is no past. All you must do is shift to the now version of you that had the desired “past” you wanted. There are people who have revised deaths, diagnoses, fucked up things they did, there’s even a girl on my page sharing a success story about her regret of moving schools, so she simply shifted to a timeline where she never moved! And i have many more dms with successes too, someone who revised their grades when they were a few days away from a parent teacher meeting telling them to repeat the year, one who revised her breakup days before prom. if they can do that why can’t you “revise”? i don’t care what it is. It. Is. Changeable. And that’s because you are everything and You are changeable so ALL is changeable.

✰✰✰✰✰

Another piece of advice is not to look outward for advice. I’m going to give you links to the only revision posts i would recommend!(one two three four five six-probably so much more amazing material, but you don’t need it, stop with the need to over consume). But other than that, a lot of “manifestation coaches” have A LOT of limiting beliefs. For example: “you have to remember that manifestation can’t overrule the law of physics and time”, “changing the past isn’t possible, but you can change how you feel about it” ew…… anyway…..

YOU are god, not them. please do not let their limitations affect you. That’s like the biblical god going to cry in a corner because Moses doubted him. Why are you letting mere humans depict what you can and can’t do? You have the authority, total authority. Which is why i don’t want you to get rattled seeing these beliefs. But wouldn’t the person who has their revised be enjoying life, instead of looking for youtube posts like a junky needing a fix??

To revise all you must do is see beyond the illusion that this life is solid. See beyond the concept that time is set in stone and that time is linear. This circumstance isn’t real, use whatever techniques you like to live from the state of the person who is in the timeline you want to be in (I personally love revising the day using SATS, inducing the void state, visualising and rampages, recently loving robotic affirmations too!)

I hate using the word “delusional” because the only thing that is delusion here is you thinking you can’t do this, but you need to be so far removed from what was, live completely and 100% in your imagination, that’s the only real thing. “But salem, what if i’m living in my head and circumstances still take their course?” If you have to ask me that you aren’t 100% living in the imaginary. And that back and forth, that pathetic attempt at serving two masters is what has you “waiting”. You cannot serve two masters, you are either in your desired timeline, or you’re the loser dealing with circumstances you don’t want, it can never be the two, you have to pick which one you want more.

Also remember that you can never be given things you don’t already have: reality is totally mental, not 50% not 99% but 100% mental, if you still operate from the person who is regretting their life, you aren’t thinking from the state of being in the timeline you wanna be in. You have to know that you have it first, before it can reflect. It will only be hard when you say it is, failure is not a real concept, it’s being imagined by you, remember that. For some of you, your circumstances will slap you right in the face and that is not failure it’s feedback, showing you that you aren’t truly thinking from that version of you.

You are the only person in your way from instantly jumping to your desired timeline. Get rid of that deep belief in time. You are the only reason you have to wake up and deal with unfavourable circumstances again. YOU are the only one that can give it to yourself. And first you have to GIVE IT TO YOURSELF, try to make that make sense. The food is right there but you choose to starve because you are so fooled by the illusion there is no food at the table.

it’s already done, there’s nothing to regret, creation is finished, the second you wanted another outcome a reality was formed. THATS how powerful you are. You are there now.

Shifting to your desired timeline is instantaneous, it will materialise when you finally see there was nothing to do to get there in the first place.

I believe in you, so so so much

[gloomwitchwrites]

Oh god, this is kinda embarrassing- but hear me out, that painful pleasure of cockwarming where you can't move an inch, betwen reader and 141

Embarrassing? Please. This is hot AF. There is no hear me out. I read this prompt and opened up a Word document immediately. Kudos to you, anon. You knew exactly what I needed.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: cockwarming, piv penetration, clit play, overstimulation, edging, established relationship, secret relationship (Ghost), sharing body heat, dirty talk, creampie

Word Count: 1.1k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Don’t move, love. Might fuck you for real.”

John’s words are honeyed poison, dripping into your ear, turning the folds in your brain to mush. Malleable and soft, you’re always submissive when it comes to him, easing into whatever john wants, because it’s him, and you’ll give him anything.

His name is a whimper on your lips. A name that he shushes. A name that he smothers with a gentle touch to your cheek, mouth coming down on your own to swallow it whole. How monstrous of him.

How fucking perfect.

It’s good to feel full, to have so much of him you might burst. John must know this, because his large, calloused hand slides over waist and hip to press against your pelvis.

“Stop your squirming,” he soothes.

Your hips shift slightly, and John reaches lower, pinching your clit.

“John!” you yelp, but you’re unable to move. Each wiggle sends his cock deeper, stretching you further, riding the line between pain and pleasure.

“You’re keeping me warm, love.” John’s lips tease your throat. “For later. When I’m good and ready to fuck you.”

Your pussy clenches, and his lips turn to teeth.

“Stay. Still,” he growls.

Your fingers dig into his forearms, nails biting in but not drawing blood. Yet you refrain from moving, pushing your back against his front, snuggling into his arms.

“That’s it,” he praises.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is always down for a good tease. You love it, but in the moment, it always makes you rage.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he croons.

You’re in his lap, turned outward toward the room, feet planted on either side of his spread thighs. Between your legs, you’re speared on Kyle’s dick, stretched deliciously, arousal so sticky and immense that it coats his balls.

And he hasn’t moved at all.

Not his cock. Not his hips.

The only thing in motion are his fingers as they repeatedly play with your clit, bringing you to the brink, teasing your orgasm, dragging it out until you’re a shaking, whimpering mess.

“You’re horrible,” you groan.

“The very worst,” he smiles against your cheek, making a v with his fingers, sliding it over your pussy to stroke the space where he penetrates you. The palm of his hand rubs your clit with each stroke. Your head falls back against his shoulder, the sounds you make unfiltered and raw, toes curling as Kyle edges you yet again.

Words are incapable concepts. Foreign. There is nothing but Kyle’s touch, of his gentle stroking with his fingers, of the overstimulation of it all nearly bordering on pain. It’s unfair, but you’re loving each second yet loathing it in equal measure.

“I—I can’t,” you stutter, muscles clenching and unclenching.

Withering. Wasting away.

You’re falling apart.

“Please,” you breathe.

“Please, what?” prompts Kyle.

You lick your lips. Find them slightly dry.

“Please. Fuck me.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You said you’d keep me warm, lassie.”

The shiver isn’t from the cold. It’s from Johnny’s cock, how it stretches you deliciously, nearly to the point of pain. That sensation hangs on a knife’s edge—along with your control. Every nerve in your body sings with triumphant glee, urging you to move your hips, to fuck yourself on him.

“This isn’t what I meant,” you whimper, gripping his muscled thigh.

“It’s the best way to share heat,” he hums against your throat, lips brushing over the pulse point there. “Naked. Close.”

You shift slightly, and the delicious stretch sparks a slight flare of pain that hurts far too good. “You’re taking advantage,” you moan softly.

Soap chuckles, grasps your hips, draws them back. He completely bottoms out, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t fuck you like you’re wanting him to. It’s a sinful thing to desire, to want this with him, to hide it from everyone else. The rest of the team is on the other side of the door, sitting around a makeshift fire.

They’ll come in eventually, wanting to sleep. Time is not on your side, and Soap is playing a dangerous game by sliding his cock inside you while the team is just a few feet away.

“Am I?” he croons. “You told me you wanted this.”

“They’ll catch us,” you breathe.

Johnny kisses your neck, nips your earlobe. “Then you best be quiet, lass. And let me enjoy this.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Stop your moaning.” Simon’s lips are pressed to your ear, somehow louder than the pulsing music in the club. “You’ll draw attention.” He nips, and you whimper. “Don’t want my boss finding us.”

Simon’s boss. The man you’re supposed to marry to secure an alliance between warring families. The man you hate. And his bodyguard, Simon, the man who is currently balls deep, unmoving, keeping his cock warm and cozy in your pussy.

The two of you hide behind a thick, black curtain, sandwiched against the wall. Your husband-to-be is on the other side. Laughing. Drinking. No idea that his bride is being used as a toy just a few feet away.

The tip of Simon’s tongue traces the curve of your ear, slides down to your jaw, teases your neck. Tongue becomes teeth becomes lips. You melt into him, hands pressed firmly to the wall, the plaster warming where your cheek touches it.

“Don’t move,” he growls. “Or I’ll come inside you.”

Your pussy immediately flutters, squeezing him. Simon grunts, his hips bucking up into you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans into your throat.

Simon is the man you want, the one you think about late at night in your bed. Whenever your fiancé touches you, you think of Simon, pretending it’s him. You’re being torn in two, ripped in opposing directions.

Duty to family. Or following your heart.

And right now, your heart is holding onto a thread, his cock throbbing inside you, wanting to move—to fuck you senseless against the wall. And you’d do it, too. Allow him your body. Allow him to fill you with his seed. Have it drip down your thighs as you sit in your fiancé’s lap.

“You want me to. Don’t you?” he purrs, and you rock back into him. Simon hands dig into your hips, holding you tight. “Play with your clit,” he orders, voice husky. “Let me feel you.”

You do as he instructs. Circling your clit with your finger is easy. There is nothing but slickness there. Prominent. Loud.

“That’s it,” he coos, as your orgasm crests.

It’s brief. Sharp.

Simon grunts, and then warmth floods your pussy.

[sincerelyneo]

“slut!” | l.jn

“everyone wants him that was my crime”

💿now playing: “slut!” by taylor swift

❯ summary: Jeno’s always been yours. You were the one too scared to be his, actually. But not anymore. Not tonight. Not now that you’ve decided being called a slut might be worth it, so long as it means they know he’s yours.

❯ pairings: idol!jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, idol!au

❯ words: 3.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, mentions of online hate, secret relationship, insecurities, mentions of alcohol, possessiveness, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, pull out method (unreliable!), dirty talk, reader uses she/her pronouns, swearing, literally just jeno being a 'gentleman' in a world of boys.

No matter how many times Jeno tries to deny or convince himself otherwise, you can tell—he hates being in a secret relationship. He hates being your secret. And who could blame him? No one wants to feel like they’re being hidden by the one person who’s supposed to love, cherish and adore them completely. 

But that’s just the thing. You’re not the only person who loves Lee Jeno.

Not when he’s up there on stage, night after night, basking in the roar of thousands who love him too. He’s adored by strangers, worshipped by fans, and wanted by everyone.

And yet—he chose you. He still chooses you.

He kisses you in elevator corners when it’s just the two of you, and pulls you into janitor closets like you’re back in high school. He makes little gestures on camera only you would catch—a tilt of his head, a thumb brushing his lip, a tap over his heart. As if to say still yours, still here, still love you. And you bask in it all. 

You know—despite his options and his fame—he loves you. Only you. There’s never been a doubt. Not when you still remember the endless months he spent pining after you like a love-sick puppy. Back when you told him you couldn’t give him more. That he’d only be wasting his time by pursuing you. 

He didn’t care. 

Maybe that’s why he agreed to this mess in the first place. The secrecy. The ache. Because for him, having you—even as a secret—was enough. He’d take you in pieces if that’s all you could offer. He’d take you quietly, behind closed doors. Because all he ever really wanted, was you. 

But you see the cracks now.

The way he deflates every time you say no to dinner in public. How his fingers twitch when you pull your hand away before anyone sees. How he stares a little too long at your unadorned ring finger after offering you a matching one. And the last one—the most recent wound—you saw it in his eyes when you turned down the invite to the award show.

He thought you’d come. Thought that maybe since Mark had started bringing his new girlfriend to events, you’d be ready too.

But you weren’t.

Truthfully, Mark’s girlfriend had only made things worse. Not her personally, but seeing the thousands of comments attacking her made you upset. You weren’t sure you were strong enough to survive that kind of hate if you were in her position.

What upset you more, though, was overhearing Jeno with Hyuck last week.

“I really wanted her there, man. But I know the cameras would freak her out. I just… I hate that she has to stay away. She deserves to be there with me, you know? Without feeling like everyone is going to tear her apart.”

Hyuck said something back but you can’t even remember what. Your heart was beating too loud to process everything properly. The only thing you remember is how tired Jeno sounded. How frustrated. And worse, hurt. Because of you. Because of this.

You hated that he had to hide those feelings. 

And that’s why you’re sitting in front of your vanity on the night of the award show, debating which shade of red lipstick would look best with your outfit. The dress—long, silk, red—is the one you’ve avoided for months. Too bold. Too bright. Too seen. But you slipped into it anyway.

It’s a reckless plan. You know that. It could blow up in your face. Go viral in the worst way. But still—you made the decision. Tonight, you’re done hiding. Tonight, you’re done keeping him a secret. Tonight, you’ll step into the spotlight for him. Because you love him. And more importantly, because he deserves it.

“Baby… can you help me with my tie?”

Jeno’s voice filters in from the hallway, slightly distracted, but then he sees you. 

His mouth parts, and his entire body goes still. His eyes drag over you quickly as if he doesn’t trust them. Then he starts blinking rapidly like he’s trying to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

“You—” he starts, but the word breaks in half. He clears his throat. “You look…”

You glance at his reflection in the mirror. He’s red and flustered. Completely undone. The tie he needed help with is now tangled between his fingers.

“Wow,” he finishes.

A slow smile touches your mouth. “Wow, huh?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Wow.”

He takes a hesitant step closer. Then another. Like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too quickly. And truthfully? You might. You’re still half a breath away from backing out, clinging to this idea by a thread. 

But then he’s standing behind you. His gaze catches yours in the mirror as he runs a soothing hand up and down your arm. 

“You look a little…overdressed for a night in, baby.”

You hold his eyes. “That’s because I’m not planning on staying in,” you whisper. “Not tonight.”

“Wait—does this mean…?” His voice falters, and his hand stops on your skin the exact moment it hits him. The realisation softens the edges of his face, but it also brings something more cautious. “You’re—are you sure?”

You turn to face him.

He looks gorgeous, of course—hair perfectly tousled, dress shirt still half-buttoned, tie crumpled in one hand. But his eyes give him away. That’s his tell. He’s nervous. Not for himself. For you.

You nod, then you rise to your feet. Jeno doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his arms around your waist, hands sliding down to your lower back, anchoring you there. 

“I mean it,” he says, barely above a whisper. “If this is because of me, or because you think I need some kind of grand gesture—don’t. I don’t want you to do this unless you want to. I don’t want you walking into that room and regretting it five minutes later. I don’t want you overwhelmed or scared or…” He swallows, hard. “I don’t want you to end up resenting me.”

His voice cracks a little on that last part.

You could cry. 

Because this is the boy you fell for. Not the one on stage. Just the boy who would’ve waited forever to be claimed if that’s what it took. Just your Jeno. The boy who compromises first, always. The boy who puts your wants before his own—every time.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you say. “Well, not just for you. I’m doing it because I want to. I’m tired of hiding. I love you. And I want to be seen with you.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You laugh—and it’s the kind of laugh that makes your eyes sting, because it feels like relief, like safety, like everything might actually be worth it if it means he’s the one standing beside you.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. To really look at you.

“You’re sure, baby?” he asks again, but this time softer. Just to be certain. Just to make extra sure.

You nod again, firmer now. “I’m sure.”

And that’s it. The switch flips.

Because now that he knows—really knows—you’re in this with him, he changes. The nervousness melts away. The sweet, steady boyfriend evaporates and in his place is his other side. The menace. The flirt. The boy madly, stupidly in love. 

His eyes drop to your dress. He whistles, low.

“You know, I’m not entirely sure I want anyone else seeing you like this,” he says, one hand trailing down the bare skin of your back. “I mean—fuck, baby. Look at you. You’re unreal.”

You snort. “I thought you wanted people to see me.”

“I do,” he hums. “But I think your first public outing as mine should involve an I love my boyfriend t-shirt. Preferably with my face on it.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re already smiling. “Right. Because I’m the one causing competition in this relationship.”

“You are.”

He grins and spins you slowly so you’re facing the mirror again. His chin rests on your shoulder, and his hands roam a little—just enough to make you squirm. 

“I’m serious, babe. I’m gonna have to walk three steps behind you tonight,” he says, eyes fixed on your reflection. “Otherwise I’m gonna end up in a fight.”

“Jeno—”

“No, really. One guy breathes in your direction, I’ll knock him out.”

You shake your head and scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m very serious,” he doubles down. “You’re gonna break the internet. You’re gonna have guys in your comment section and DMs—fucking gross.” He winces, eyes squeezing shut like the thought physically pains him.

You laugh. “Welcome to my world.”

“Christ, baby, how do you do it?” he groans, head tipping back dramatically. 

You glance at him in the mirror, raising a brow. “You’re such a drama queen.”

He kisses your shoulder. Then your neck. Then behind your ear. 

“Yeah, well,” he murmurs. “You’re worth the drama.”

And you know that he means it. Because that’s exactly how you feel about him. At least, you do tonight.

You’re still giggling when Jeno unlocks the door to your apartment, one arm curled tightly under your legs, the other around your back. The hallway spins slightly, or maybe that’s just you—hazy from all the champagne you and Mark’s girlfriend downed while your boyfriend and his bandmate were on stage accepting an award.

The night was good. Really fucking good. Jeno looked at you with so much pride—like having you there, dressed up and laughing beside him, was somehow better than any trophy he won that night. Claiming you in public had lit something in him that his career could never give him. 

“I’m not drunk,” you whine into his neck, breath warm on his skin. “My feet just hurt.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, “That why you nearly fell face first getting into the cab?”

“No,” you huff, pouting. “You try walking in these heels and staying balanced all night.”

“I told you to wear the other shoes before we left,” he mutters, whilst grinning. “But nooo, someone was determined to look sexy tonight.”

He’s right, that was your goal, but still, you hum anyway. “You liked it.”

“Damn right I did.”

The door clicks shut behind him then, and he kicks his shoes off, still holding you like you weigh nothing. He sets you down gently on the edge of the couch, his hands lingering a second longer than necessary on your waist.

“I’ll get you some water,” he says, brushing a kiss against your hairline. “And maybe some painkillers, yeah?”

You nod and he disappears into the bathroom. Sighing, you let your head fall back against the cushion. Your ears are still ringing faintly from the music and cheering. But you feel… lighter. Like something that had been pressing down on your chest finally cracked open and let you breathe. And it has. Because tonight, you were his—and it wasn’t a hidden secret.

You touched him. Kissed him. Supported him. Loved him. Out loud.

Your fingers itch on that thought. You reach for your phone, just to check. Are they talking about it? About you? About—

“Hey.”

Jeno’s voice. 

You freeze, phone halfway unlocked.

“Put it down,” he says softly, stepping into view. He’s changed—his shirt half untucked. He’s undone the top few buttons, disregard his tie, and rolled up his sleeves to reveal the veins running along his forearm. 

Your eyes meet his.

“Why?” you frown.

“You know why,” he says, walking over. “You were so fucking brave tonight, and I’m so proud of you, but I’m not letting those vultures who don’t even know your name upset this—upset you—not tonight.”

He plucks the phone from your hand and sets it down without looking away. Then he drops to his knees in front of you.

Rough palms skim up your thighs slowly. You’re still in that dress, red silk with the slit high enough to tempt his restraint. His hands slide higher, until he’s parting your legs with firm fingers, settling between them like he belongs there.

Because he does.

“We can check it tomorrow if you still want to, baby,” he offers, mouth ghosting over your knee. “But right now? Focus on me. Focus on us. Please?”

You chew your bottom lip, a full-body shiver following the path of his rough palms as they trace the length of your upper leg. God, you love looking at him like this—down on his knees, eyes wide and soft but still dark. That familiar, dangerous sweetness on his face—the kind that makes it impossible to say no to him.

So, you just nod a quiet: “Okay.”

“Good,” he grins, a little wicked now. “Because I just spent an entire night trying not to touch you,” he says hoarsely. “And I fucking love this dress on you, baby.” 

“I picked it with you—”

“Take it off.”

Your lips part of their own accord because you don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice drop like that. It has your fingers fumbling to the clasp behind your back, trembling as you unhook it. Jeno watches like you’re putting on a show just for him. You don't think you’ve ever seen his eyes so heated before either. 

The silk slips from your shoulders, pooling at your waist. And then he’s there—his big hands covering yours, helping you peel it the rest of the way down like he’s unwrapping a gift.

He looks at you in pure awe—like it’s the first time he’s seen every bare inch of your skin, even though it’s not. 

“No fucking underwear, baby?” he asks, thumbs pressing into the soft dips of your waist. “You looked this fucking good all night with nothing on underneath?”

You blink, breath catching.

“I was irritated before,” his jaw tenses. “But now I think I’m mad.”

“Irritated?” you echo.

“Yeah,” he huffs a breath, eyes flicking over your tits straight to your parted lips. “I had to sit there and watch you. Watch you laugh, drink, make every person in that room fall in love with you. And the whole time, you were like this wet and bare—and I didn’t even know.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks—and between your legs.

“I should’ve pulled you into a bathroom stall and made you cum on my fingers just so you’d stop smiling at everyone else.”

Your thighs press together involuntarily. The heat between them is molten now.

“Well,” you whisper, eyes locked on his, “you don’t have to watch anymore.”

He kisses you then and it’s greedy. He’s been holding back for hours, but now, you’re his again—just his—so he doesn’t want to be gentle anymore. He doesn’t have to be.

He pulls you up from the couch, hands sliding down to grab your ass as he walks you backward toward the bedroom, lips styling looked onto yours like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

You tug at his shirt, and he shrugs it off without a second thought.

“Lie down,” he commands softly once you reach the bed.

You obey, spine sinking into the mattress, hair fanning across the pillow as your chest rises and falls rapidly. Jeno climbs over you, one arm braced beside your head, the other slowly moving down the curve of your waist until he’s back to his favourite place—between your legs.

He kisses the inside of your knee first. Then your thigh. Then higher. All without breaking eye contact.

“You’ve been dripping like this all night?” he breathes, lips fanning the skin just above your pubic bone.

You nod as a whine escapes you because of how slowly he’s moving. He’s taking his time, and it’s excruciating considering how much you need him already.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you pant. “Been wet all night.”

He lets out a low whistle, then leans in closer, blowing soft air against your bare slit. It’s torturous. Delicious. Cruel.

“Fuck, baby,” he coos, eyes locked on your cunt. “This looks like it aches. What’s got you so worked up, hmm?”

“You, Jeno,” you whimper. “Always you. Please.”

He smirks then. A real, filthy grin. “Good.”

He doesn’t move right away. Just watches. Watches the way your thighs twitch. The way your chest rises faster. The way your lips part like you’re about to beg again. 

He likes that. The anticipation. The way you’re already wrecked and he hasn’t even touched you properly. Then finally—finally—his mouth is on you.

It’s slow at first. A single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit, so gentle you barely feel it. Then he sucks. Hard. Tongue flicking over you in the most heavenly way because he knows your body better than you do.

You gasp, hips lifting—but his hands are already there, pinning you down to the mattress with a strength that makes your toes curl.

“Don’t run from me,” he hums against you. “Take it, pretty girl. You deserve it.”

You whimper his name, one hand fisting the sheets, the other reaching down to bury in his hair to tug at the ends whilst he devours you. And when he adds a finger—slips it inside without warning while his tongue flicks fast and precise against your clit—you arch off the bed completely, moaning so loudly it echoes.

“That’s it,” he groans, curling it just right. “So fucking hot.”

You clench around him, and he grins against your skin. Telling you—demanding you—to let go. Which you do, with a cry and a shudder. He doesn’t stop licking until you’re shaking, until you’re whining his name in that breathless, broken way that makes his cock throb behind his zipper.

You’re not even sure how long you’ve been moaning his name before he eventually pulls back and reaches for his belt. You reach for him and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as you help him free his cock from the layers of fabric. 

Then he lines himself up, bare, and sinks into you with a groan that rips straight from his chest. The sound alone sends another shudder through you.

His head falls forward until his forehead rests against yours as he anchors your hip. His breath fans hot across your lips, leaving delicate pecks as he eases into you carefully. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, the curse trembling. “You feel so good. So fucking good, baby.”

And then—he moves. He fucking moves. Deep and steady. Claiming. 

His mouth hovers near yours. Catching each gasp, each moan, each quiet, desperate, whispered plea of his name from your lips. He wants everything. He wants it all. 

He pulls out slow, just to taunt, and then thrusts back in harder and you groan, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he says, gritting his teeth. “You like being full of me, don’t you?”

You nod, breathless. “Yes—fuck—yes, Jeno.”

“Been thinking about this all fucking night,” he breathes against your lips. “About getting that fucking dress off you. About making you squirm. Hearing you make all those pretty little noises for me. Taking everything I give you like such a good fucking girl.”

You clench again at his words, and he feels it. 

“Fuck, baby—already close again?” he smirks, biting softly at your jaw. “You’re so fucking easy for me. So wet. So perfect.”

You moan, your legs tightening around his waist. 

“Say it,” he growls, voice cracking now as his thrusts pick up pace. “Say who you’re perfect for. Who this sweet little body was made to take.”

“You,” you cry out, head falling back. “Fuck, it’s only ever you.”

“Damn right,” he grits, snapping his hips harder. “And now the whole world knows, don’t they? And now I get to show everyone who’s got me wrapped around her fucking finger.”

You whine, nails dragging down his back as your body starts to seize again, overwhelmed by the force of him, by his words. He hisses then, and you know he’s just as close as you. 

“Be good for me, baby. Cum on my cock—show me how fucking mine you are.”

Your pussy pulses around him, mouth opening in a loud moan as pleasure rips through you and you can do nothing but clutch at his bare back. The lines of nail marks reddening.  

“Fuck—there you go,” he groans. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.”

His own hips stutter, rhythm breaking to a languid pace as he chases his own orgasm. He buries his face in your neck, teeth scraping just enough to nip and suck and leave his favourite kind of purple marks. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he snarls against your skin. “Fuck—you feel too good—I can’t—”

He pulls out fast, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But your mind doesn’t have enough time to process that ache because your eyes lock with his—dilated and heavy-lidded—and you forget to breathe.

His hand wraps around his cock, pumping hard, fast. Just a few strokes before he’s spilling all over your stomach, jaw clenched, your name a growl on his tongue.

The sight alone makes your thighs tremble all over again—because he looks so fucking beautiful like this. Chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, eyes half-lidded and burning only for you. You don’t even care about the mess he’s made on your skin—because tonight, he wasn’t just your secret. He was yours. Publicly. 

And you’re both okay with paying that price. 

[cynireth-thorne]

『How surgeons tie knots』

❀⊱ Pairing: Zayne x Reader (afab)

❀⊱ Summary: Your hands kept being mischievous, so Zayne had to teach you a lesson.

❀⊱ Tags: Explicit, Fingering, Edging, Unprotected sex, BDSM (he ties your wrists w/his belt), Creampie, Established relationship, Pet names (darling, sweetheart).

❀⊱ Word count: 2.051

[NSFW Under the cut, minors do not interact please]

₊˚ ︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

You had offered to help him unpack after his business trip, and you had helped him at first, but you also had let your hands wander too much when you looked from over his shoulder as he sat on the bed and showed you the contents of his bag while he explained where everything went. You couldn't resist touching his biceps as you rested your chin on his shoulder as he spoke.

Then, you walked past him with a small stack of folders and touched his waist as you passed, a small smile on your lips as Zayne froze mid walk.

Feeling bolder, you fully grabbed his ass just as Zayne had his back to you while putting away his jacket on his closet. You wanted to laugh at him for almost jumping out of his skin, but before you could, he turned around and grabbed your offending hand, "If you keep being mischievous, I can show you how surgeons tie knots". You barely had time to read his expression before he walked past you to his suitcase; the only items left were a couple of his belts, ties, and clean undershirts.

Zayne sat on the bed to remove the items from the suitcase before he started neatly folding them to be put away. You sat beside him with your body pressed against his right side, your left hand resting on his lower back as you placed your right hand on his thigh, wondering how long you could keep teasing him with "innocent" touches.

He ignored you at first, or at least tried to act like he was focused on folding his white undershirt, but Zayne's movements were slowed as your hand on his thigh kept creeping up, his eyes focused on how you shamelessly grazed your fingers on his inner thigh as you moved closer to his crotch.

Zayne simply released a heavy sigh as he removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose, placing them on the bedside table before silently reaching out for one of his belts. By his reaction, you thought you had no effect on him and never imagined you'd end up in your current position...

Zayne sat on his bed with his back resting against the headboard and you sat fully naked in front of him with your back against his chest, he had used one of his belts to tie your wrists together, keeping your hands in place close to your chest as he pulled the excess fabric of the belt from over your shoulder, Zayne placed your legs over his, using his thighs to keep you spread open as he plays with your cunt with dextrous fingers.

"You wanted attention, darling? Was this not what you had in mind?" he whispered in your ear as he used his fingers to expertly flick your clit, you can feel you're close, the tension in your belly threatening to break as pleasure builds from his ministrations and Zayne knows your body as well as you do, a fact you mentally curse now as he removes his fingers from your clit as soon as you are about to reach your peak.

Frustrated, you whine at the loss of contact, "Zayne... Please," you plead, hoping he will let you finish, this being the third time he nearly brings you to orgasm before cruelly denying you from it. "Shhh... I don't think I'm quite done with you yet." Zayne softly runs his hand over your body up to your heaving chest, using his fingers to pinch one of your nipples as he plants wet kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You push yourself closer into his embrace, hoping to break his resolve in teasing you by grinding into his still fully clothed erection, "Zayne..." you softly moan his name the way you know he loves as you press your ass to his aching cock.

"Nnngh... You still insist on misbehaving?" he spoke against the skin of your neck as his fingers traveled south of your body again to your cunt.

"You expect me to reward you when you've clearly not learned your lesson yet?" Zayne's middle and ring finger brushed over your overstimulated clit as he whispered in your ear, the motion making your thighs quiver over his strong legs "Mmmm... So needy, was this what you wanted?"

Zayne easily slid his two fingers into your sopping pussy, using his thumb to rub your clit each time he pumped his digits in and out of you, the way he expertly was able to quickly find the perfect spot to push his digits into you had your heart speeding in anticipation of your climax "Ah... Yes! Don't stop, please..." you can feel yourself at the edge, the peak of your pleasure just within reach and right before you could reach it, the pace of his fingers became torturously slow, still grazing your clit with his thumb, enough to make you feel it but not quite to give you what you so desperately need.

"Fuck... Zayne, please, I can't..." You find yourself unable to form a coherent sentence, a frustrated whimper leaving your lips, all you can think is how his fingers feel inside you and wish it was his thick cock filling you up, you know he always makes you feel so good, so full, and now sitting so close to him you feel him on your back, twitching every time a sigh, moan or whimper leaves your lips.

You know how much he wants you, you can feel how his eyes are glued to his hand on your pussy from over your shoulder and you can feel his uneven breath fanning your neck. So you finally give in, you let him steadily drag his fingers slowly into your heat without pushing for more, finally deciding to let him win this time, so you both can get what you need.

"Have you learned how to behave now, darling?" Zayne softly speaks into your ear, his fingers still lazily moving into you and driving you crazy for him, for his touch, for more. And judging by the tent on his pants and his reactions to your body, he's just as desperate for you as you are for him.

"Yes! I will be good... Zayne, please let me cum... I need—" You are unable to finish what you were saying as Zayne suddenly flips you onto the mattress with the restraints still on your wrists and your ass up, behind you, you hear the fabric of his pants rustle as he finally frees his cock.

You feel Zayne softly run his hands from the back of your thighs to your ass and your lower back, enjoying the view before him as you eagerly wait for him to finally fuck you like you wanted him to.

"Can you give me a color, sweetheart?" His words softly reach your ears, and you can hear the barely contained desire laced in his voice. You suspect Zayne won't be able to be gentle with you now, and you don't want him to be, not after all that teasing.

"Green", you reply, taking the opportunity to wiggle your wrists into a more comfortable position above your head, allowing you to arch your back further for him.

His hands grab onto the small of your back, Zayne's weight on your body angling you further onto the mattress and closer to him just as he aligns the tip of his cock to your entrance. You fight every urge to push yourself onto his length as he slowly sinks his cock into your cunt until he's completely buried and throbbing inside your heat.

Your body feels like it's going to combust in anticipation any second, waiting until Zayne finally, finally moves, immediately setting an unrelenting pace, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs with each powerful thrust. Zayne keeps both hands on the small of your back, holding you in place as he pistons his cock in and out of you, hard, his thick length stretching you in pleasurable pain.

Zayne's pace is brutal, the wet sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room as he repeatedly pushes his cock into you as deep as he can go, his tip kissing your cervix and his balls slapping against your swollen clit each time he does so, sending sparks of pleasure all over your body.

"Ah... Fu— you're taking me so good, sweetheart. Now be a good girl and scream my name nice and loud when you cum on my cock, just like you wanted to". Zayne's words go straight to your cunt, your walls fluttering in anticipation for your impending climax, out of the corner of your eye you can see him changing his position on the bed.

You barely register the bed dip beside you at how he adjusts himself behind you, placing his foot on the bed next to you for leverage he moves his hands to your upper back, burying your face on the mattress his thick cock now reaching impossibly deep in your pussy.

Your orgasm blindsides you with an intensity you didn't anticipate; every nerve in your body lights up in pleasure as you cum hard with a scream of his name barely muffled by the mattress your face is pressed in. You feel your muscles flutter around his length as he helps you ride the waves of your climax with his deep, unwavering thrusts.

Without slowing his pace, Zayne rests his forehead between your shoulder blades and guides one of his hands between your thighs, right to your overstimulated bud. Your whimper and your legs twitch beneath him as soon as his fingers make contact with your clit just as the fire of your orgasm started to subside his fingers strengthen its flames once more, it's too soon, too good, too much but your fucked out brain is not deciding if you want to stop him or to beg him to continue.

"You're being so good, darling. Let me give you what you begged me for" he breathes out a laugh, not bitter, not mocking just... teasing, amused at how your body responds to his touch as he starts flicking your sensitive clit with two fingers, it's like you want to run but at the same time he could feel your hips pushing into his every time he rutted into you.

Your second toe curling climax hits you then, so hard you swear you see stars, his name falling off your lips like a prayer as Zayne keeps fucking you hard through it, the spasms of your cunt around his cock push him over the edge too. He cums with a deep grunt and a soft whisper of your name as he pumps you full with thick ropes of white as your fluttering pussy milks him to the very last drop.

His hips slowly stop to a halt, his softening cock still deep inside you and you both stay like that for a moment while you try to catch your breath. Then, Zayne plants a soft kiss on your back between your shoulder blades before rising and pulling out. Soon, he's helping you into a more comfortable position to carefully remove the belt from your wrists.

"Was it too much?" You can see the worry in his eyes as he rubs his thumbs over the redness of your skin where the belt was.

"I would've stopped you if it were." Your reply seems to ease him, but you still notice the slight furrow of his brow.

"Does a bath sound ok? Or do you want some water first?" His eyes search yours with tenderness, but you don't miss how they drift back to the marks on your wrists.

"Both sound great if you join me, but let's cuddle first." You flash him a smile and open your arms to him, and Zayne, for a heartbeat, just takes you in, cheeks blushed, hair tousled, and your skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat.

"Anything for you, darling," he replies with amusement as he lowers himself to you, pulling you close to his chest, where his heart swells with adoration he doesn't quite know how to put into words, even when you love testing the limits of his patience and resolve.

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°˖➴ 「Masterlist」 ₊ ⊹

[loveemagicpeace]

🦦Astro Observations & Planets💕

🌙Venus in Capricorn has often loved deeply before, and when that love broke — it shattered a whole structure inside them. So now, they try to pre-empt pain by staying one emotional step back. Not because they don’t feel — but because they feel too much, and have no idea how to safely express it without losing their inner stability. I think they are very difficult to love, especially if they have been hurt before. They are very closed to love and cautious. Even if they love someone, they would rather let them go than stay because they are afraid of being hurt again. They often see the end before things even begin. They can be very pesimistic about love. They often say things they don't mean just to protect themselves from getting hurt again. So they can care a lot about you, but they say one thing and mean another.

Venus in Sagittarius-You’re not naïve — you’re brave. Your Sagittarius Venus believes in love even after pain. It searches for meaning, keeps its heart open to possibilities, and understands that love is part of the journey, not just the destination.

🧚🏼‍♀️🎸When cap venus & sag venus are together-they set healthy boundaries not to restrict your freedom, but to show you that true intimacy thrives when each partner’s needs are honored. They’re often excellent at managing resources so they can help wing-and-a-prayer Sag investments become solid foundations. They translate your grand ideas into real world plans helping you take that spontaneous overseas trip and turn it into a fully booked itinerary rather than a flight-of-fancy weekend.

🪐Saturn is a planet of time( That's why he always wants to do everything slowly and with caution. Because everything takes time). That's why people who have a lot of Saturn or especially Capricorn in their sign open up slowly, trust slowly, enter into relationships slowly, because they build everything over time. It can take them years to fully open up to someone. They are not good at forgiving. They will never completely forgive. Saturn rules over holidays, responsibility, commitment to something for a long time, building, working on something, constancy, being here and always being, everyday tasks, boundaries, respect, independence, high expectations, developing areas where we are weak, improvements, perseverance, strength. Saturn with strong aspects between two people (especially between the sun and the moon) indicates a long-term relationship that can last forever whether we want it to or not. Saturn also rules endings, so when things have to come to an end, Saturn will bring them to an end. Saturn also gives a sense of rejection. Saturn can also give a feeling of loneliness and the feeling that you are always alone in the end. Alienation from emotions and difficulty expressing them. Also ruling over karma.

✨Saturn in 1st house-part of your life will always be a bit challenging but the energy of Saturn will often save you from problems. It is important to do things that are calm, take your time with them and not rush into changes too quickly. Saturn in 3rd house - you will take time to think , to speak. Your thoughts may be constantly burdened. People may not even know how much you think, but you don't share your thoughts that much. You have a slightly serious approach to relatives and feel a sense of responsibility of your siblings.

🏝️Uranus is a planet of unpredictable things that happen suddenly and at a time when we least expect them to come. But many times these things set us free and lead us to another path. Our reactions to shocking things are shown by uranus and how we will approach changes and innovations. It brings the innovations we needed to change something in our lives. With uranus we become unique, different and go down a path that we think is good for us. We become more original and more like ourselves. Uranus brings about sudden events and opportunities. It awakens, shocks, and revolutionizes. Uranus relates to your inner will and your secret power. If Uranus is prominent in your horoscope, you are inclined to be independent and resourceful. You may dress in an unusual manner, create your own style, and invent new gadgets. People may be attracted to you because of your “far-out” point of view. Uranus brings change into our lives, new situations, and new people. Its gifts are always sudden and ephemeral; you have to take immediate advantage of them before they flash by. The message of Uranus is to move with change and not be afraid of the future.

Uranus in 2nd house- money comes unexpectedly and quickly and you have unique way of how you approach money. The way to earn money can be through technology, computer, phone (depending on the sign in the house). If you have Aquarius in this house, money can come through your dreams, goals, friends. If you have Scorpio in this house money can come through a partner, investment. Uranus in this house can show that you have a unique way of preparing food and what kind of food you eat. You can also have unique music. Uranus in 4th house- your home can be completely different from others, unique and special. But you can move a lot in life.

🍒Neptune is a planet illusions, dreams, poetic thoughts, sacrifice, creation, art. Neptune is named after the Roman god of the sea, who ruled over oceans, rivers, streams, fountains, and all things hidden by watery depths. Its realm is the subconscious world, hidden memory, intuition, and clairvoyance. Neptune’s power is subtle, ethereal, inspirational, and otherworldly. Many astrologers claim that Neptune brings a person into contact with a higher plane of consciousness. Neptune was discovered, was a time of renewed interest in spiritualism. Hypnosis became a new medical treatment, and anesthetics were first introduced into general use. In its highest form Neptune symbolizes perfection. It represents your unselfish ideals, your spiritual quest, and your search for the Impossible Dream.

🌊Neptune in 1st house- you have a gift for spirituality, leadership, your appearance can be eternal and very dreamy. Your personality is only visible to those who truly see you. To many people, you may be an enigma or a mystery and they want to find out who you really are. Neptune in 5th house- You love pleasure and luxury (sometimes too much); you are very drawn to the theater or cinema. You bring a fantasy quality to lovemaking. You may be involved in one or more illicit love affairs, which may cause sorrow. Neptune in 3rd house-our mind is impressionable and imaginative, and you may have psychic feelings about other people. You have a deep need to learn about life and are attracted to occult studies.

🦦Pluto is a planet of transformation, depth, power. The planet that is also the farthest from Earth, so its energy is more mystical. Pluto is named after the Roman god of the underworld and the nether regions of Hades, and of the spirits of the dead. There are two sides to Pluto’s influence, and like the two sides of a coin they are opposite but part of the same. Pluto has a powerful generational influence and also a personal meaning in your chart. The planet governs the beginnings and ends of the phases in life. Something you have to let go to start something new. The Plutonian character has a deep need to dominate and control, and often will rise to great heights. Some astrologers believe Pluto’s power is too arcane and mysterious for human beings to analyze properly now, but that the planet will continue to govern impulses in our secret psyches that we do not yet fully understand.

🌌Pluto in 6th house- Many transformations happen through your daily life, body, health routine and work. You can change many jobs to find the right one. You have great power of concentration and are intent on seeing results. You tend to overwork yourself. You take an interest in medicine and health and are sometimes gifted in the healing arts. Pluto in 12th house- You have the gift of seeing other people's hidden motives. Your transformations are carried out subconsciously and you can have a powerful influence on your subconscious mind.You have a compelling desire to understand, to see deeply into philosophical questions.

🎲Jupiter is a planet of luck, travel, blessings, wisdom, teaching. Jupiter signifies the good things that come to you easily and with little effort. It is said that when Jupiter is working for you, you will never go under. You will often find that Jupiter’s power comes to your rescue at the last minute. Jupiter can also be too much of a good thing, for its influence can make you extravagant, lazy and luxury-loving, profligate with money, and blindly optimistic. Jupiter is the planet of blessings—blessings we must learn to use wisely.

🎰Jupiter in 1st house- luck always comes to you and you can feel that it is easy for you to express yourself. You always have a confidence that you carry with you no matter what. You always find optimism and you almost never worry about what others think of you. People may see you as a person who is wise, intelligent, and a person who is like a kind of teacher to others. Jupiter in 7th house- You are successful in marriage and partnerships, and are likely to gain power and prestige through both. Can often means you will marry twice and that one of your mates is likely to be powerful or wealthy. During your lifetime your adversaries often become friends, and conflicts have a beneficial ending.

🎧Moon in 8th house- You are a deeply sensitive person with a talent for healing. You have strong powers of suggestion. You are interested in questions about death and an afterlife, and quite possibly have psychic ability that you can use in a practical way. You are highly responsive sexually.

🎨Moon in 9th house- You have a receptive, imaginative mind capable of delving into philosophical ideas. You are attracted by the unknown; in your work you may delve into history or the past. At some time in your career you are likely to benefit from inlaws or relatives of the person you marry.

🎤Moon in 10th house- You are involved with the public in career, professional, or social activities, and perhaps will not have much private life. There is the possibility that you will change your occupation in midlife. You can be very attached to your career, success, and achievements mean a lot to you emotionally, and you often celebrate them with your family. The support of your family and their pride in you means a lot to you. Above all, the presence of your mother can mean a lot to you.

🎸Venus in 10th house- Your partner's support will mean a lot to you in life. Your partner may also be the reason for your success in some way. You can achieve a lot together. But it could be that the relationship you have is very visible to the public and many people may be interested in the relationships you have in life (your partner's character, work can also have a big impact on your reputation).

🥁Mercury in 11th house- You should have a large number of acquaintances, for you adapt yourself to a variety of different people. Your friendships tend to be based on an intellectual rapport. You are socially minded and usually become involved with groups, clubs, and societies.

🧉Mars in 8th house-You are passionate about life and have a strong sex drive. You are attracted to the occult, also to medicine and the healing arts. There may be conflicts in your family over wills or legacies. It depends on the sign Mars is in, but if Mars is in a fire sign your reactions will be dramatic and at some point you will express jealousy and intensity out loud. If you have mars in taurus means that many things come quietly, suddenly, planned, controlled. Maybe your partner will always think that you don't care and that nothing bothers you, but then you'll suddenly blurt out everything that's on your mind.

✨Sun is a greater indicator of the father than Saturn, the sun is more where you want to be exposed and visible and how you were seen in childhood and also represents the relationship you have with your father in your younger years. Sun in 9th house-Your father was able to travel a lot and was abroad, you had the most contact with him when you traveled together.It's also possible that your father helps you get abroad or helps you find a job there. Sun in 10th house- Your father can help you with your career, and maybe some part of you wants your father to see your success and want him to be proud of you.

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🌊🍒

[petalbcrnes]

𝒢𐔌ㅤㅤㅤㅤjealousy headcanonsㅤㅤ𓏴

synopsis　　𓏴𓏴　　what is damian wayne-al ghul like when he is jealous?

note pad　　𓏴𓏴　　when i got this request i started having weird flashbacks of writing dami jealousy hcs, but i got confused bc i never posted anything like that. i checked my docs— and there it was :⁠0

Damian doesn’t blow up or shout— his jealousy is sharp and quiet.

None of that is directed at you. The relationship you two share is built on mutual trust. Any disdain he might feel when jealous is directed at the individual making him feel inadequate— as if he isn’t enough for you.

First step? Make sure the individual who is letting their hand linger on you for far too long know that they are way out of line.

His tone gets clipped, his posture stiff, and his already intense eyes somehow narrow even further when someone else is too close to you.

He starts calling people the wrong names— as if to remind them that they are lucky to even be in front of you—… plus to just tick the person off.

“Is this your friend? Jaime, was it?”

“No, it’s actually James—”

“Right, John. You’re a little too close for comfort.”

He is direct. He isn’t hiding the fact he is jealous. Maybe during the first steps of your relationship he’d he confused about these nagging feelings and try and hide them. But, as time progresses, things change. He has no qualms proving who you chose to go home with every day and night.

He’ll stand a little closer than usual, put a hand lightly on your lower back, or subtly pull you toward him when someone is making him feel territorial.

All of this is a warning— the way he tells the person ‘I am giving you a chance to back off.’

But if someone flirts with you in front of him openly— ignoring his warning? Oh, they’ll be getting the sharpest, driest sarcasm known to man.

“Are your eyes malfunctioning or are you just unaware they’re taken?”

“Dami!”

“What? They are clearly overstepping boundaries, even if they are informed that you are in fact in a relationship.”

The self restraint he shows in this situation is only because of you. But, there are some factors that can make him even more jealous. I mentioned how people flirting with you might make him feel inadequate at first— it’s a small and nagging feelings in his heart. It worms his way into him and festers.

If the person flirting with you is smart or shares your interests, Damian gets quietly competitive.

He’ll suddenly bring up topics you two have discussed in private— just to reestablish your bond in front of the third party.

He wants it known that he knows you better.

“Yes, they enjoy postmodernism, but only in photography. Not that you asked.”

If you notice his jealousy? In the beginning of your relationship, he might deny it, but as I said with more time he opens up more.

Once he trusts you more, he’ll admit it with a low voice and clenched jaw.

“I am not accustomed to—… feeling this way. I didn’t like seeing someone else think they had the right to look at you that way.”

There are ways to cheer him up afterwards though.

Clear words and gentle touch work best. Let him know he’s chosen— that you see him.

Bonus points if you tease him lightly after he’s calmed down.

Telling him he’s cute when he’s jealous? You’ll get a grumble from him, but he loves it.

If you get jealous over him, he’s genuinely shocked at first.

Then smug. Very smug.

“Hmph. At least you’re finally being honest about how deeply attached you are.”

𝄢　© petalbcrnes 𓈒　𓋫　main masterlist𓈒　ᛝ

[gatorbites-imagines]

Clark Kent (2025) x Gothamite Reporter Male Reader 

Headcanons 

Just got back from watching the movie at the cinema, it was so fucking good, I highly recommend it, go watch it if you are able. I also really likes Mister Terrific.

Reader is a reporter at the Daily Planet, he is also a Gothamite. I thought of writing something like, childhood friends, fellow kryptonian, etc, but maybe another time if you guys are interested. 

I dont think theres any spoilers in this, but just in case, spoiler warning for Superman (2025)

I dont think Clark has ever thought much about his sexuality or attraction to others outside of normal crushes he had growing up, or that he found women attractive. 

So when he starts finding you, another reporter at the Daily Planet, and a man, attractive? Clark wouldn't know what to do with himself for a good while. 

Clark is a bumbling fool, even if he sometimes acts it up as the image of Clark Kent. But when you are around it becomes real. It's like his body is too big for anything, stumbling into doorways, knocking over papers, one time missing his office chair. 

Jimmy and Lois would not let him live it down, always giving him looks of making joking comments when you arent around.  

One time you leant over the top of the cubicles, looking right down at Clark. You tap the top of his head with a pile of papers, and he just looks up at you with the prettiest wide blue eyes, his curls a mess and cheeks slightly flushed. 

It makes your own heart race, you were a Gothamite damnit. Someone so kind, bright and pretty wouldnt make you buckle, even if Clarks parted plush pink lips look so damn enticing. 

Instead, you tell him to take a look at the stuff you found cuz you know hes been working on a specific report, and dump the pile of papers in front of him and walk off to work on your own stuff. Aka, hiding the heat rising to your face. 

You have a bit of a thing for Superman, but who doesn't. Insert Clark ducking down and trying not to choke or sputter when you mention it in passing, during a conversation with Cat. 

Superman is just a lot more approachable than the bat guy back in Gotham. You haven't been back in a couple of years, but your family told you about him. Like, the guy runs around with a kid sidekick, thats messed up even for Gotham. 

Lois gives Clark a look, even wiggles her brows at him. Might even make some joking comments about how he just needs to show up as Superman to swoop you off your feet. 

Maybe you even mention that you think Clark is more attractive to Cat when you guys are talking in another room, and Clark hears it because of his super hearing. It makes him choke so hard on his coffee that it almost shoots out his nose. 

I think in the end you are the one to make a move, kinda. Maybe you two share a case and have to work together, and you invite Clark over to your place, or out for lunch. 

Clark will jokingly and choppily ask if its a date, and you just look at him, as serious and blank faced as any Gothamite, and say, sure, lets make it a date. 

Cue Clark panicking about if he should dress up or not. Should he bring flowers? Chocolate? Another treat? His parents raised him to be a respectful and loyal man, so of course he wants to make a good impression. 

In the end Clark shows up with flowers, your favorite. It makes you a little embarrassed that he remembered what your fave flowers were. You only mentioned it once, like, last year when someone was writing about flower language. 

Clark is so lovely, flustered and kind that you want to rip your hair out. How can someone be so fucking perfect? There has to be something wrong about him. Like, maybe he's got some weird kinks, or messy past relationships. There has to be something, it's not scientifically possible. 

You end up having to accept that Clark really just is like that. Lois has found you once or twice with your face in your hands, trying to piece it all together. Lois just grins into her coffee and pats your back. 

It's not so strange for you to expect the other shoe to drop. Thats what Gothamites do. The best relationship you had back in Gotham was pretty healthy too, if you ignore the fact that the guy was covered in scales and slowly turning into some kinda crocodile creature. Last time you saw him, he killed a guy and fled to the sewers, so. 

The shoe does drop at some point, but its not because Clark kills somebody like Waylon, or blows up a bar during trivia night like Eddie. Its because he does what he does best. Hes a hero. 

Clark couldn't really help it. You were almost hit by a falling building, so of course he has to catch the rubble, standing above you and looking down at you, looking as shocked as you do at his actions. 

You guys don't talk for a few days after that, because you just need to process all of... that. But you end up cracking when Clark shows up with an even bigger bouquet of flowers, your favorite takeout, and the most powerful pitiful puppy look in his eyes. 

It takes a lot of talking to get it all straight. And... maybe you are a little flushed to be dating Superman. You are still most drawn to Clark, but Superman is a treat too. 

Clark looks both flustered and unamused when you ask if he can wear the suit, just once. You just wanna... see the material and patterns up close. 

In the end Clark does show you the suit, but it's after a fight with the villain of the week, and he's covered in dust and dirt. His curls are an even bigger mess than usual, but Clark is so pretty. 

You swear your heart lurches when he looks at you all apologetically, his smile a little crooked and blue eyes shiny and glimmering from where he's standing in your entranceway. 

Of course, you ask if you can try the cape. It's a lot heavier than it looks, and you are too busy admiring yourself in the mirror to watch the way Clarks pupils bloom at seeing you wearing the El crest. 

Dating Clark Kent and Superman has its ups and lows. On hot days, Clark can cool you down with a little puff of air. Or, when he's feeling a little frisky, Clark will cool his mouth and kiss you all over. 

He likes cooking meals for you, even if its stuff like breakfast for dinner, or those waffles you put in the toaster.  

The entire office all seem to sigh in relief when they watch Clark almost skipping into the office, giving you a coffee, and then kissing your cheek before going off to his own desk. People start passing money, cuz of course there were bets. 

Clark runs hot, so he can be the perfect weighted blanket on some days. But it also makes him so uncomfortable to cuddle in the summer. This is when he uses his ice breath. 

But there are also the times where you can do nothing but sit and watch the news, waiting with bated breath as you watch the symbol of hope fighting stronger and stronger enemies. 

Clark will always return to you, one way or another, but some days you fear he wont. It causes some issues in the relationship. You cant make yourself tell him to stop being a hero, thats just who Clark is, so you have to bite it down and live with it. 

Clark always tries to make you feel better though, so expect a lot of love and attention. He gives great massages you know, and Clark quickly learns how to press your buttons. 

You almost bite your own tongue off when Clark slides to his knees when you are standing in the kitchen, and just rests his chin on your thigh, looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, strong hands massaging your calf. 

Blood rushes so fast that Clark has to catch you so you dont crack your head on the counter, because jesus, why would be just do that out of the blue? 

It helps that his parents love you too, and the love Clark has for you before only grows when his Ma and Pa give you the sign of approval. So, expect lotsa visits to the farm, and lotsa family dinners when you guys have time. 

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

I know we all joke about (and some may honestly agree about) Stiles being a brat in a romantic relationship and yeah of course he has his moments but also, did anyone else see how gentle he was with Malia? Like throughout! 

Their first time at Eichen house (while I’m not thrilled it happened because they were both not in the headspace for it) he was so soft with her. Asking for consent? (Not that either could honestly give it) After care? Cuddles and Soft touches? And later on after their relationship has been established when she’s lying on his bed and telling him about her highlighter colors and the adoring look he gives her!? How gently he holds her when she gets sick in the vault? Laying his jacket over her, brushing her hair back….

And even when he’s with Heather. Him being responsible and telling her he doesn’t have protection. Letting her guide him. Giving her any opportunity in the conversation as a way out in case this isn’t what he thinks it is. Her flirty “you know what I want?” And his nervous “a bike?” 

With Caitlyn when he realizes he has to leave the party at the loft and he’s freaking out a little bit. He’s so worried about leaving her when she’s  been drinking so he takes her a water bottle and makes her promise to drink it. “I have to go but I didn’t want to offend you…You drink that. The whole thing. The whole thing, okay?” 

When Lydia is lying on the exam table after escaping Eichen house and he uses his body to shield her. His frantic but gentle hands brushing the glass off her face? When they’re at school and the birds break the glass and he immediately sails over to protect her?

The man just instinctually goes soft and protective for his S/O and I think it’d be the same for Derek. Like he’s literally pressed against the wall, standing between Derek’s arms.  the 200lb 6 foot alpha werewolf and Derek’s brain almost combusts when Stiles reaches up to cup his face after they pull away from their first kiss and the comparatively smaller and far more fragile man looks at him so sincerely and flushed up to his ears and he mumbles a little “This okay?” 

Derek’s wolf fucking looses it. Derek fucking looses it. Butterflies x10. His face turns bright red and he has to hide it in Stiles’ shoulder as Stiles slowly cards his fingers through his hair. “You okay Big Guy? W-We can stop-” 

“Shut up.” He growls out in embarrassment. Because what the fuck? How is the scrawny little human making him blush right now? But Stiles doesn’t tease him, just looks at him fondly and Derek waits for the snarky and lewd comments. Waits for Stiles to scoff and pull him in for another needy kiss but he’s not ready —so fucking not ready— for Stiles to slot their fingers together and bring his knuckles up to brush his lips against them while keeping eye contact because “I’ve always loved your eyes Der…” and holy shit. Derek is doomed. So fucking doomed. 

And Stiles isn’t suave, okay? He doesn’t really mean for it to work. He’s not trying to flirt. It’s literally just honest stammers and grumbles and he’s ten types of shy and nervous but it’s just instinct. It’s just, “I care about this person and I don’t care how embarrassing this is for me as long as they’re comfortable.” type thing. Because he feels Derek shaking a little so he takes his hand and it just feels right to kiss it. But he can’t look away from those beautiful green eyes and the question is on the alphas face, wide and open and raw and he just says it. Just really, honestly answers the unasked question of ‘why are you looking at me like that?’ But it comes off as super smooth and Derek was not prepared.

No one has ever been gentle with him. Paige maybe, in the awkward puppy love type way. But not like this. Not as a mutual, mature lover and Derek is equal parts elated and terrified and the hesitation just makes Stiles softer and more protective. “D-Der we don’t have to do this. You… I just want to be with you. We don’t have to…We can just sit down and watch-“ 

“Please stop talking.” Derek has to beg because it’s so kind, so adoring so overwhelming... Stiles loving him so gently that he finally feels like he can breathe again

[kdh-tally]

Please can you make some zoey x mystery HCs maybe how there respective found familys react to them?

Zoeystery Being Exposed

Prompt : How the boys and girls found out Zoeystery were together. In order of who found out first to who found d out last.

Author's Note : Every time i write something with Abby I switch between him being a cocky himbo and him being an instigator. Today you're getting himbo.

Baby

Knew from the start.

He was literally right there when Zoey called Mystery her type.

Was already wingmanning Mystery before he even realized he had feelings.

Mystery didn’t need to tell Baby, Baby needed to tell him that he was in a relationship.

The two were in their shared room, playing mortal combat. 

Baby was winning a lot quicker than he usually did which meant that Mystery wasn’t trying hard enough. 

He looks over only to see Mystery constantly glancing at his phone. 

He rolls his eyes and pauses the game before opening the device (Face Id works for him lol) and scrolling to his messages.

He sees the last conversation is with Zoey and shoots her a quick text.

This is Baby. Please ask him out so he can focus on the game.

And that is how they both became a couple.

They’re his OTP

Once told Zoey, “Thanks for keeping him from overthinking himself” and he meant it.

Is glad that his favourite huntrix member ended up with his favourite bandmate. 

Will never admit it out loud.

Has a whole collage of embarrassing Mystery selfies saved for blackmail, just in case Zoey needs it.

Also has blackmail photos of Zoey but Mystery doesn’t see them as blackmail.

He thinks they’re all cute photos of the love of his life.

This frustrates Baby 😒

He’s their third wheel.

Literally their child.

They’ll be out on a date and kissing in the front of the car (which Zoey would be driving) and Baby would just be in the back seat. Eating the meal they bought him.

Was helping Zoey sneak into their dorm, and also helped Mystery sneak into the girls dorm, waaaaaaay before the others figured things out.

Mira

Zoey tells her

Mira is super duper good at reading people so she honestly already had a feeling but Zoey just confirmed it.

“So you know Mystery right?”

The second those words leave Zoey’s lips Mira is staring at her, eyes narrowed as she just waits for Zoey to say the final confession.

“We’re kind of together….”

“I KNEW IT–”

Teases Zoey nonstop. 

“You’re smiling at your phone. Is it your demon boyfriend?”

“I don’t tease you when you text Abby and Roman–”

“That’s different!” Mira yells as she throws a pillow to Zoey’s head.

She enjoys seeing Zoey flustered, so she’ll purposely mention Mystery whenever she can.

Sleepovers with Rumi and Zoey become confession sessions.

Mira already knows about what Rumi and Jinu have going on so she focuses on Zoey.

Bombards her with questions that she knows will leave Zoey flustered, but also just to gather more information on the man who stole her heart.

As much as she loves Mystery, she will threaten him for no reason at all.

I feel like Mystery would be most afraid of Mira (after Zoey)

While Rumi gives sweet big sister that will only hurt you if you hurt her family vibes, Mira gives off scary big sister who will hurt you for no reason at all.

“If she cries, you die. I don’t care if you’re already dead. I’ll send you back to hell myself and make sure that even Gwi-ma won’t be able to bring you back.”

Mystery has major respect for Mira and wouldn’t dare cross her. (omg they’re names r literally M and M. eminem lol)

If Zoey ever gets questionable texts from Mystery, or if she wants to send a questionable text to Mystery, she will come to Mira.

“Okay, first of all, he’s down bad. Second, this is like reading a fanfiction–”

PAUSE!

Mira would write fanfic of them

You don’t have to agree with me at all but she feels like their dynamic is so annoyingly soft and she has to put all of those feelings into somewhere!

She has a 103k domestic fluff AU written in her head about both of them.

Rumi

At first she just thought Zoey had a crush on the guy.

She found it suspicious. 

She’s not suspicious because he’s a demon but because of how he behaves….

“You mean the weird demon who growled at a fan? That’s your type?”

“Yes Rumi”

“He glares at the makeup artists for touching your face”

“It’s kinda hot how protective he is 🥰”

“Zoey they were doing their job 😃” 

She was gonna say something else but she sees how sparkly Zoey’s eyes get when talking about him and she keeps her words to herself.

Eventually warms up quickly when she sees how gentle Mystery is with Zoey when no one’s looking.

Remember that scene when the girls went to a scam doctor and he told Zoey that she was too eager to please others?

Yea this definitely bothered Mira and Rumi.

Seeing Zoey babble on to someone who was hanging on to her every word kept them at ease.

Zoey could continue talking for a while 3 hours and Mystery would be able to recite absolutely everything she said word for word.

She thinks they’re soulmates.

Mystery would give Zoey his soul and so would Zoey

They actually helped Rumi get closer to Romance cause she plans dates for them with him and Mira.

As in Romance, Mira and Rumi plan Mystery and Zoey’s dates cause they’re just so adorable.

They go on double dates.

Rumi and Jinu + Mystery and Zoey

Mystery goes Rumi for advice about their relationship

He has no idea how to plan a date, or an anniversary, and he really wants to do something big for Zoey so he comes to one of her big sisters duh!

“What kind of flowers do I buy?”

“Mystery, you know this already. We’ve gone over it 12 times”

“I want it to be perfect,” he huffs all pouty. 

Bro just wants to make his girl happy.

Jinu

Mystery tells him one day after practice.

I saw a POV video of how Jinu recruited the Saja Boys and Jinu was more or less scared of Mystery the entire time so i will be involving that lmao.

“...”

“Are you going to jump me again?” Jinu says as he slowly backs away, eyes narrowed in focus on the silver haired boy.

Mystery scoffs before opening up his phone, pulling up a photo of him and Zoey on what’s obviously a date. His hair is up in the photo, revealing the face Jinu and the other members rarely get to see. 

Jinu looks at the photo in confusion, “Zoey has a boyfriend? I don’t see why you’re showing me this, are you jealous?” a teasing grin grows on his face.

Mystery remembers how dumb Jinu can be and brushes his hair back, then he puts the phone up next to his face.

Jinu looks back and forth before he finally registers it “OH MY GOSH YOU’RE ZOEY’S BOYFRIEND???”

He’s surprised Mystery can pull.

He’s double surprised that he got with a hunter of all people. 

I feel like Jinu would never expect Mystery of all people (other than Baby) to get involved with the hunters. 

Doesn’t see the vision so Rumi has to explain the whole cat!girlfriend x dog!boyfriend aesthetic they present.

I genuinely feel like (other than Baby) Mystery would be the only other member to view Jinu as an older brother/father figure in their lives.

Mystery didn’t 100% need Jinu to approve of his relationship with Zoey but he really REALLY wanted him too. 

Jinu, once he gets over his surprise, is obviously super supportive.

Will give Mystery the talk but would be so awkward about it….

He also gets super protective of Zoey as well since she’s basically family now. 

He already was (since he’s with Rumi lol) 

I feel like he’d present both of them with a small gift to kinda show his acception?

I really think Jinu’s language (other than words of affirmation) is gift-giving.

He made a small hat for his little tiger baby

He gave his soul to Rumi

See the pattern?

He’d give Zoey a ring (PLATONIC!!) seeing as she already has so many so might as well give her more lol

He’ll also give Mystery a ring (he doesn’t realize he literally gave them matching rings)

Romance

He thinks Mystery is lying. 

Romance was watching a kdrama when he decided he needed a snack. He gets up and heads to the kitchen only to see Mystery smiling, phone by his ear as some excited voice rambles on and on on the other end.

He close enough to hear the person on the other line say “I’ll talk to you later babe!” Romance drops his food before slowly turning to look at Mystery. 

“Who was that?

“Zoey”

“Liar”

“I’m not lying”

“Liar” Romance will not believe it. Not because he doesn’t think Mystery can’t pull (If Mystery couldn’t pull he definitely wouldn’t be in the group 💀) He just doesn’t believe he and Zoey of all people would've gotten together.

He gets too invested.

Whenever both groups hang out he watches them both like hawks.

At first he barely sees them interact and is like so Mystery was definitely lying

However, he one day barges into Mystery and Baby’s room to steal one of Baby’s berets only to see both Mystery and Zoey cuddled up on the bed. 

Jaw dropped.

He can’t get a sound out and has to leave before he completely tweaks out.

He rushes into his shared room with Abby and tries to speak but barely can. 

Abby is barely paying him attention (Romance acts out almost every day so this is nothing new).

“How did Mystery get a girlfriend before me?” He’d mumble into the carpet.

Very supportive though.

He thinks they’re cute and will probably team up with Mira and Rumi to send them on the cutest dates ever. 

Like seeing his bandmate happy.

Besides, he also has a new gossip partner

He’s already told all his underworld stories to the boys but now he can share them with Zoey, who will 10000% build off of them and add in stories of her own.

Gossip girls

He loves them.

Abby

No one told him. He figured it out himself.

Remember how I said Romance would complain to Abby about how Mystery got a girl before he did? 

Abby wasn’t really paying attention at the time but it kinda hits later.

“Mystery has a what?–”

He starts watching  Mystery a lot more.

Notice that Mystery willingly goes to the girls' dorm with Baby for no good reason.

He notices Mystery wears his hair up a lot more, seemingly confident in his face.

When both groups hang out he sees Zoey laughing at everything Mystery he says.

Matter of fact, the fact that Mystery was talking was a miracle in itself.

Abby would be home one day by himself and a knock would go off at the door. It’s Zoey returning one of the sweaters he sees Mystery wear all the time???

Another suspicion to add to his list.

He’s actually so close to figuring it out but can’t piece it together.

He’s missed all the signals because he just assumed Mystery was just awkward and unlovable like the rest of them 💀 (demon traumaaaaa)

He’d probably think that Zoey knew who Mystery was seeing and was kinda playing mediator. 

So, he decides to go ask Zoey about it (Romance is being a prick and won’t tell him)

He walks into the Huntr/x dorm, it sounds empty. Before he can say anything he’s greeted with Zoey and Mystery kissing in the kitchen.

Screams.

“I AM SO SORRY!!”

The couple immediately separate. Mystery looks hella annoyed and pissed and Zoey is so embarrassed. 

He runs out of there.

He approves of them but is so ashamed he didn’t realize earlier.

They remind him of this one couple he’d seen in one of the many movies romance had forced him to watch. 

He thinks they’re adorable but unfortunately can’t get that scene out of his head.

Major respect for Mystery.

[gloryy-vs]

Your Sanctuary (MDNI 18+)

|| synopsis: abby x reader, you’re a decently popular idol, who was in a secret relationship with Abby of the Saja Boys. you adored him, loved every part of him, even the part you should’ve been running from. you let yourself indulge in sin, worshipping a man who was damned long ago.

tags: abby x reader, cunnilingus, head (f!recieving), fingering, demon sex, virginity taking, praising, p in v, rough & gentle sex, worshipping, hair pulling, manhandling

a/n: omg first fic, this is literally so long but i kept wanting to flesh out the backstory, but don’t worry the backstory to smut ratio is pretty equivalent! i haven’t written in so long and this isn’t proof read. so do ignore some typos teehee. i will be making more, let me know if you wanna be tagged, or if u have any requests/ideas! ||

Since meeting Abby about a month ago or so, you both were Idols, bonding over the struggles of meeting fans, having to keep good posture and facial expressions 24/7 as to avoid scandals from fans. Your first impression of him was that he was gentle, at least with you. Even though he was a bit conceited with his build and loved showing off to his fans for the squeals and screams, he had a charming voice, like you were being drawn to him by some unknown force.

Long story short, you two grew infatuated with each other, keeping a low profile relationship as well as you both could. Today, he was helping you out with a choreography. Even though he was a newer up and coming idol, he had such great coordination, reflexes and balance. He hit each move perfectly to your latest song after learning it the first time. It was like he wasn’t human. Each time you struggled or failed to hit a move on a certain beat he’d pause the song, going behind you to fix your pose.

“Keep your arms here, then the second beat, bring them up fast. Yeah?” He said, his hands moving your arms around to where they should be. His touch was hot, sending chills up your body.

He had an aura about him, like something darker was within him. His reflexes were quick, each time you’d be near him you’d feel a heat in your stomach like some sort of safety engulfed you. The way he looked at you too, his eyes fixated on yours without a glance anywhere else.

“You know, you’re really good at this, it’s like you’re not human.” You said, jokingly.

His arm draped over you, his lips just barely grazing your ear. “That’s cus I’m not, princess.”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but his breath tickled your ear and made you jolt away from his face. You looked at him, his expression seeming serious as he pressed even closer to you. His eyes had a look, one that seemed dangerous but not harmful.

“You’re full of jokes aren’t you?” You chirped, taking a step back as he’d just take another forward.

You felt uneasy, like he needed to tell you something. Each step back that you took, he’d take another forwards. Eventually, he got tired of the games, pressing you up against the wall quickly.

“I think that’s enough practice for today, why don’t you come by our place. Sleep with me tonight.” Abby said, his hand gently placed on your waist, he acted like you were made of glass.

Your eyes went wide, face flushed from how close he had gotten to you. You never did anything sexual with him. Abby said no kisses, and never told you why. That demand alone led to no sex, or anything of the sort. So him inviting you over seemed like a big jump.

“S-sleep together? Are you serious? You don’t mean- do you mean?” You were baffled, and even embarrassed at the thought.

He let out a laugh before pressing his hand against the wall next to your head, “I dunno, do I mean it? Why? You want it that bad, I don’t know if it’ll even fi-“

You slid to the open side where you weren’t caged in, face red with embarrassment. “You’re too much!” You turned away from him, picking up your bag from the bench and your lulu shapewear jacket.

“So what? You don’t wanna?” Abby said loud, just as you were about to walk out.

“I’ll be there at 8!” You said, not looking at him and walking out the door quickly.

————————————

You got into the cab, wearing a hat and face mask to conceal your identity. You had asked Abby for the address, and he happily gave it. With the following message being, ‘you won’t miss it’. Whatever that means. It wasn’t too far from your own groups apartment penthouse. Only about ten minutes without traffic.

You were anxious, and even that was a light word to describe it. All that was running through your mind was being alone, vulnerable in a room with a man who was almost double your size and could pick three of you up. It’s not like you didn’t trust him, but for him to suddenly invite you over was uncharacteristic. Your thoughts went from worrying about what he’d do, to fantasizing about what he’d do. How big he was compared to you, his whole body above would cover you while you clawed at his back. You almost drooled at the thought before snapping back to your sense and scolding yourself.

“Bad! Quit it.” You whisper yelled to yourself, forgetting you were in a cab with a whole other person. Now you’re scared the driver can read minds.

“You’re here, hope you enjoyed the ride.” The driver said plainly. That fast?

You thanked him and gave him a tip, grabbing your purse and opening the door. He was right, you couldn’t miss it. A massive building, massive glass window panes. He said it was the top floor penthouse. Your jaw was almost to the floor, The buildings parameter was bigger than yours. I mean, you expected it. The Saja Boys made an instant internet sensation with just one song and over 50 million fans. Lord knows how much money they have. Which reminded you, the other boys would have to see you come in, and go straight to Abby’s room. You could only hope they’d keep their minds out of the gutter.

Walking inside, you checked in and made yourself known to the staff, and they allowed you inside. They knew someone was expecting you just by your name. You clicked the button to the top floor in the elevator, waiting for it to stop. You took off the hat and mask, shoving them in your purse now that you didn’t have to avoid any publicity this late at night.

You still couldn’t shake the nervous feeling, fidgeting with your rings and then moving to tug at the hem of your white skirt. Your heart was racing as soon as the elevator made a ‘ding’ to the top floor.

You walked down the short corridor to where their home was. You reapplied your lipgloss, and readjusted your hair since the hat had caused it to fluff up at the top. Once you felt content with your appearance, you knocked three times. You didn’t even realize you were hardly breathing from how nervous you were. Then, the door opened.

“Awww, someone’s little pet is here!” Romance sung out, stepping aside to let you in.

You made a cringed face at the name he used, stepping inside as he welcomed you in. “Hello to you too, Romance.” You said shyly, still trying to control the pace of your heart.

Eyeing the main room, it was an open floor plan. You could see Jinu in the kitchen, Romance joking him soon after closing the door behind you, while Mystery and Baby were sitting on the couch together, eating sushi and watching some horror movie with the most blood and gore you’ve seen in your life. You looked to the right, seeing a shoe rack littered for you to place your heels on.

While you were taking them off, placing them neatly to the side, you heard a familiar voice. “There she is, was worried you were gonna flake on me.”

Looking up you see Abby shirtless, hair damp, and grey sweatpants hanging deliciously by his v-line. You shook your head, still a bit weary of being in an unknown place with everyone being able to watch. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up to give you a welcome hug. You mumbled, pushing away him shyly. Romance was peering at you two from the kitchen, and so was Jinu.

“She got all pretty for you, go easy on her tonight.” Romance sung teasingly, throwing a wink your way as if he knew something you didn’t.

“Put me down!” You said, smacking his arm.

He obliged, noting how embarrassed you were with his bandmates comment. “Shut your mouth, Rome. Don’t be mad cus even with your name you can’t find a girl to bang.”

You readjusted your top, noticing it rode up from being lifted against your will. Abby wrapped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you to him and he began to walk with you. “Let me show you my room, get away from these freaks.” He said, rubbing your shoulder after realizing how tense you were.

His room was close by, just down the hallway from the living room. He opened the door for you first. You were hit with the smell of cologne, and dear god did it smell heavenly. The room was dark, with a few lamps being turned on, red sheets and a massive mirror across from the bed.

You stepped in shyly, still feeling uneasy and wanting to be respectful being in his home, and his room. Abby shut the door behind him, taking your purse and overnight bag for you and placing them in the corner of the room.

“I called you over here for a reason. You trust me right?” Abby said from across the room, turning slowly towards you.

You looked over at him, nodding hesitantly. What did he mean? “I…do. Is it something about us?”

Your first thought was that he wanted to break up, or maybe he cheated? Or maybe he judged wanted to fuck. You were so desperately infatuated with this man, your feelings overwhelming you that the thought of him betraying you filled you with grief.

“It’s about me. What I really am.” Abby said cryptically. Your brow raised.

“Is this about the whole ‘not human’ thing, because that’s like beating a dead horse of a jok-“ He held up his hand.

“It is. I told you, I’m not a human. I’m not fragile like you, I don’t look the same as you. I’m stronger than you, faster than you, smarter than you. I could hurt you.” He said angrily, but you could tell it wasn’t towards you. It was because this was hard for him.

“You wouldn’t hurt me? I don’t understand—“ He stopped you again, his hands finding your waist, but keeping you at a distance.

“I’m a demon, we all are. This human appearance you’re seeing? It’s fake. It’s not who we really are.” Abby said, his eyes carefully watching your facial expressions for any trace of fear. He wouldn’t let you run, not now. He’d make you understand, make you stay. Even if that meant using force to keep you in his room for god knows how long.

Your lips parted, you still weren’t fully registering. It slowly started to make sense. The reflexes, barely eating, the odd behavior from some of the other boys. You were still unsure. Demon? Was he with you to eat your soul? Was he just keeping you around to kill you? Wouldn’t he have done that already? What did he mean by ‘he looks different’? Your hand held onto his forearm.

“I want to see it.” You mumbled, “I can’t believe it if I don’t see it. Are you messing with me?”

His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you in closer. “Promise you won’t run? You won’t scream and claw at me to get away?” He towered over you, eyes gazing into you like he could pounce on you at any second.

You nodded your head slowly, and that’s when you saw it. His eyes flickered gold, and his pupils morphed into slits. “This is just step one, and my patterns..”

You held back a terrified gasp, your fingers digging into his arm. As you did so, jagged line of glowing purple and blue lit across his skin, all over his arms and torso, all the way to his face. Your body felt light, your head spinning as you watch the man in front of you, morph into something not human, into something demonic. As you blinked rapidly, hoping this was a wild dream, his skin turned a soft purple. If it wasn’t for his hold on your waist, you’d have fallen to the floor in shock.

He noticed, pushing you the bed so you could sit. He brushed your hair away from your face, his hand resting on your cheek hesitantly. He was worried you’d rip away from his touch. He kept thinking the worst, that you’d run and he’d have to rip you away from the world to keep you locked away for himself. He grew attached to you, he could sense how timid but pure your soul was. Untainted, something he wanted for himself. Even if you thought he was a disgusting creature, he’d force you to love him. To take him as he is.

You on the other hand, were thinking quite the opposite. He looked powerful. His true form did scare you, but not dangerously, you craved it. He looked even more handsome, he grew even taller, his body mass increasing as well, just by a bit. His eyes, piercing into you with need and possession all over them. A part of you was unsure, but the other wanted to crawl into his lap and let him protect you. It was practically screaming inside of you.

“I like it.” You whispered. Your brought your hand shakily to his chest, finger tracing one of his patterns to his collarbone.

He dipped his head down to meet your eyes, scanning you up and down. His hands moved down to your thighs, slipping the tips of his fingers under your skirt. He looked delicious, his aura radiating a type of dominance you’d been craving. You found yourself admiring him, the unease you felt when you first arrived fading the more you looked at him. Maybe this feeling was just some demon manipulation, but you wanted him even more. Wanted his touch all over your body.

“The reason I didn’t want to kiss you, didn’t want to be intimate, I didn’t wanna lead my princess on. Just to tell you what I was afterwards.” Abby paused, standing up in front of you. His hand went to the top of your head, playing with your hair. “I doubt you’d want to sleep with a demon. Scared you might get your soul taken, yeah?” He said teasingly.

You looked up at him, still taking all of him in with need and admiration. Shaking your head, “I want to.” You said eagerly. His brow raised, questioning if you really did want your soul taken. “I mean—“ You realized what you had implied, your eyes going wide in worry.

“I— wouldn’t mind…doing it..with you. Is what I meant.” You clarified, taking your gaze downwards in embarrassment. You definitely realized you probably had some sort of kink for this. You were internally blaming him, convincing yourself your sudden increase in need for him, for his touch raking over you was some way demons entice their prey.

“Silly girl, could’ve swore you just said you want me to take your soul.” He gripped your chin, his claws grazing your skin as he lifted your head up to look at him. “But don’t worry, I’m sure I can be the best in bed you’ve ever had.”

“The only.” You said, pressing your thighs together as you longingly looked into his glowing eyes. His hand tensed.

He was shocked, but relieved. A virgin all to himself? He questioned the situation, only for a short moment. Taking a human girls virginity in his demon form. Abby already knew what the answer would be, he’d definitely take the opportunity to make you a sobbing, wet mess on his cock.

“How sweet of you, princess. You wanna give your innocence to me? Let me ruin you? Have you take me in every position? Show me how bad you want it.” He said, tightening his grip on your face before releasing you harshly.

You whimpered, the force breaking you out of a trance. You wanted to worship him, the hot feeling bubbling in your chest again. You slid off the bed, resting yourself on your knees while you looked up at him. His face made an amused expression, watching you kneel in front of him, your hands tracing his v-line, while your eyes yearned from him.

“You’re my sanctuary, I’ll always worship you.” You said, resting yourself face against the bulge in his pants.

He couldn’t get enough of this, his hand finding its way to your hair, wrapping it around his fingers. He pulled your head up harshly, “Come on, what’s my name?”

Your face grew hot, he pressed your cheek against his clothed cock, forcing you to look up at him by pulling on your hair. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, you were a newbie to this, afraid to say what you really wanted.

“Come on, be a good girl for me. I’ll give it to you all night. You’ll forget your own name once I’m done with you.” Abby said, his gentle expression now replaced with one of dominance and hunger.

“You’re my sanctuary, master. Please, I need you.” You whined, not being able to fight the wetness pooling in your undies, how hot your skin got from being this close to him. You yearned for him, still in a daze from everything leading up to now.

You lifted yourself up just barely, your eyes never leaving his as you planted small pecks all over his waist, before leading dangerously low, bringing his hemline down to tease him. He yanked your head back, his other hand parting your lips.

“You’re so good for me, you know that? Keep worshipping me. I’m all you’ll ever need, all you’ll ever want. You’d let me have your soul if I wanted to, yeah? Isn’t that right?” Abby said, guiding you up back onto the bed by your hair.

He didn’t pull hard, you instinctively followed his motion, leaning into him as you sheepishly nodded to all his questions. “I love you. I want to worship you, please. I need you, Abby. I want you so bad.” You kept on sputtering, begging and begging. Hoping it’d be enough so he could finally fuck you into the mattress.

Abby’s lips formed into a mischievous smirk, suddenly pushing you down to the center of the bed. “You want me to touch you? Where do you want it baby?”

You slowly moved your hands to the waistband of your skirt, tugging at it. You were still scared to take them off, scared in knowing he’d see you, fully bare and exposed to him. His hand went to your top first, pulling it up.

“Arms up, let me unwrap my gift.” He said, and you obliged. Your shirt was yanked off in an instant. He moved his hands down to your skirt, snapping the tight band against your skin.

“Wore something so short, I could feel how everyone was staring at you, you like their attention? You wanted them to look at what’s mine?” He growled, his eyes raking over your body before meeting your eyes.

You shook your head, “No, no. I promise. It was for you. I promise I would never—“ He raised his hand, lightly slapping you across the face.

“I don’t need anyone else looking at you, understand me? Wear something like this again around anyone but me and you won’t be walking for the next week.” He threatened, eyes dangerous before he pulled down your skirt, throwing it off to the side.

You nodded your head quickly, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths. He towered over you, and you could feel his eyes examining every part of your body. He let out a deep growl, letting his hand take your body from the top of your breast all the way to your soaked cunt.

“You wore all this for me baby? Look so pretty for me, it’s a shame.” He whispered, letting hands explore the curve of your waist, running them up and down to feel your breasts through the lace fabric of your bra.

Before you knew it, he ripped your bra in half, tearing the weak fabric off your body. “Don’t need these hiding from me.” He said, groping both your breasts.

His hands were strong. Abby kept squeezing them, pressing them together before he licked his lips and dove his head down. His mouth latched onto your right nipple, licking and nipping at it while his left hand kept massaging the other. Your head shot back, a moan escaping your lips.

“Such a pretty sound, keep going baby. You have no clue what it does to me.” He said between licks, his eyes glancing up at you, watching for facial expression contort into one of pleasure.

He kept going, letting his tongue roll over your nipple in a pattern, then going back to sucking roughly. You were too busy indulging, your hands gripping onto his shoulder as he teased you, your cunt dripping at the stimulation he was spoiling you with. You didn’t notice his free hand creeping towards your waist and resting on your hip before suddenly tearing your pink lace panties off in one motion. The cold air in the room hit your bare cunt, making you whimper.

“There we go, look at you. I’m gonna break you so good, you’ll be addicted to me.” He said, lifting himself away from your chest. He lifted your legs up, his head dipping between your thighs as he planted soft kisses, and occasional bites. Your face grew red, seeing him so close to your cunt.

“Abby—wait-“ His tongue already licked up the length of your slit, his eyes fluttering shut at the taste.

“Fuck baby, taste so good.” Abby hissed, the tension in his boxers growing as his mouth latched onto your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud.

Your eyes rolled back and shut, mouth open with small whimpers escaping your lips. He was eating you like a starved man, you could feel his fangs dragging across your skin, his tongue teasingly diving into your hole. Every lick brought you closer, just below your tummy you could feel tension building. You were worried, all this has you nearly cumming. What about the actually fucking? You’d be done within seconds.

He kept lapping up your wetness, placing kisses on your cunt. You felt something firm teasing your entrance, before it plunged into you.

“Ah, fuck!” You whined, watching him finger you while his mouth never left your clit. He added a second finger, a smirk growing on his face.

“So tight, how’re you gonna be able to fit my cock baby?” He said, curling his fingers upwards.

He quickened his pace, letting his fingers fuck your cunt while he watched your pretty little face. That’s expression you were making, eyes brows furrowed, eyes needy, lips parted. He adored how he had you wrapped around his finger, literally and metaphorically.

“‘M gonna cum, don’t stop! Please, please let me cum.” You cried, gripping onto the sheets beneath you as you bucked against his fingers, back arched in pleasure. He was debating it, wanting to torture you. He chose against it, he wanted to watch you come undone on his fingers, have you leave a mess all over his hand.

“Go on, baby. Let it out, cmon, cum for me.” Abby said, his other hand caressing your thigh softly, rubbing reassuring circles to entice you.

You whimpered, the coil in your stomach finally snapping as you felt a white hot flash escape you. The sudden warmth leaking from you and the heat spreading from your cunt to the rest of your body felt heavenly. You rode out your high, grinding softly against his fingers until your heart quit racing.

“There we go, good girl.” He took his fingers out, a thick coat of your cum left behind on his fingers. You watched him lap it up, placing his fingers in his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. Your face went red. You knew better than to say anything against it.

“I could eat you all day, but I think it’s time for me to indulge too. Don’t you agree baby?” He questioned, his head tilting ‘innocently’. Abby pulled his waistband down, finally releasing his rock hard cock.

He was big, thick, you were terrified of how it would even begin to fit inside of you. You gulped, and he was amused by your reaction. He pumped his cock, watching you lay vulnerable beneath him turned him on even more. He lifted your legs, placing his cock on top of your stomach, letting you see how deep it would reach inside you. You let out a shaky breath, it scared you, but you could only imagine how full you’d feel. It reached just below your belly button, he caressed up and down the back of you thighs to ease you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go too hard. You let me know when you’re ready for me to move, okay baby? Just hold onto me.” He said, moving so he’d be right at your hole, his tip pressed against it.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you gripped onto his forearm that was placed on beside you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, slowly easing his way in. His tip barely pushed in, and the stretch was painful, but in a good way. Each inch he pushed in you gripped tight and tighter onto him, your other hand shooting up to grip onto his shoulder. You cried out, whining and whimpering, trying to keep yourself quiet through the pain. As he got further in, he let his hand fall to your head, petting your hair as he studied your face, making sure you didn’t look too in pain. You bit your lip, eyes closed tightly as he kept pushing inside.

“Almost there baby, just a little more. Hold on for me.” He whispered, littering your face with kisses before roughly pushing the last three inches in.

“Fuck! Abby!” You cried, your nails gripped into his skin, trying to adjust to his size. It hurt so good.

After a few still moments you nodded your head, letting him know he could move. He pulled out just a little, snapping back into you quickly. You moaned, leg wrapping around his waist as he kept the soft and slow thrusts. Each time he pressed inside of you felt so good, his cock hitting just the right spot each time before filling you to the brim. He grew impatient, hungry to fuck you. He sped up, the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, your moans echoing through the almost bare walls. You were sure the other boys could hear you. Abby groaned each time you clenched around him, it only enticed him more.

“So fucking tight, holy shit. Just like that princess, suck me in. Feels good doesn’t it? You don’t want me to stop do you? Keep making those pretty noises. Let them hear who you belong to.” He demanded, his hand wrapping around your throat, his face inches from yours and he kept bucking into you, each time he went in he slammed into you.

You scratched at his back, crying out each time he thrusts into you. You left raw marks all over his back. His marks sparked, eyes glowing while he stared down at you, like he was proud for breaking you down into a teary eyed, whimpering mess. A smirk grew on his face again, watching you writhe under him, only being able to take him, not resisting him towering over you.

You couldn’t handle the overwhelming sensation and eye contact, you looked away, flustered with his eyes glaring into what seemed like your soul. He yanked your face back.

“Look at me, I wanna watch you come undone on my cock. All the cute faces you make keep me going. Look away again and you’re not cumming.” He was threatening, and you knew he meant it, he slammed into you; his thrusts slowing down while he admired you, watching your mouth open wider with each hit.

You were about to cum, your legs shaking from his cock drilling into you mercilessly. It only then hit you, a demon was inside of you. Making a mess of you, praising you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Each thought had you slipping closer to climax, letting yourself be used by something so inherently evil, but you reeled into the idea, feeling guilty in pleasing yourself this way.

“I’m about to— oh fuck, oh abby, please, please don’t stop!” Your whines never ceased, and he just watched you, almost chuckling at your cries. Abby lowered his head, kissing you roughly, his lips ravaging yours while his tongue slipped inside your mouth. He went faster than before, the sound of squelching and skin filling the room again.

You clawed at his back, bringing him in closer with both your legs wrapped around him tight, pulling his waist closer. You saw stars, your legs tensing and twitching violently, back arching as you gasped, breaking from the rough kiss. Abby kissed all over your jaw, hissing as your pussy clenched around him while you came, bringing him closer to his own orgasm. He slammed into you one last time, his hand gripping into the soft skin on your hip as he came, his cum spurting into you as he filled you. You sighed, looking down at where he sunk into you, watching his back tense and his muscles twitch from his orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re mine.” He hissed, burying his face in your neck to take in your scent. Abby wasn’t wrong, you were marked as his now, he could smell it on you, his pheromones mixing with yours, coating your smell in his. His seed dripped out of you as he pulled out, huffing as he did so.

His hands grazed over your body one last time, admiring how flushed you looked, you were glowing with pleasure and relief. His hands pressed over your stomach, and your inner thighs.

“Marked you from the inside and out. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not baby. You’re not going anywhere.” He said, watching you get embarrassed. It was amusing to him.

You were in and out of sleep, your body practically taking a beating within a short time. You let yourself go limp, hands resting by your face while Abby got up, stretching his back muscles. You saw how scratched up his back was, littered with raw scars all over.

“You marked me up too pretty girl, kinda hot.” He said while making his way to the bathroom to get a bath started for you.

You propped yourself up, trying to shuffle to the edge of the bed. You snapped back to reality; you were sure the others heard you. Heard your screams and cries from the other side of the door from how loud you were. You covered your eyes with your hand, trying to think of a way to mentally recover and prepare for any knowing looks or teases from Romance specifically.

“Cmon pretty girl, time for round two.” Abby said, yanking you off the bed and into his arms before heading to the bathroom.

Your face went pale white before accepting your fate, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t excited.

[babytaco99]

Your First Date With Your Future Spouse Pick A Card

Choose your Pile 1-3 From top to bottom.

1. Pile One:

Hi Pile One, I hope all is well! Let's get started on your reading! Your first date with your future spouse will be very romantic. I see this person being very respectful and patient with you. Some of you could be a picky eater or you could be on a strict diet right now and I see this person being very understanding of that. There is something about wearing silk and either dark or pastel colors, I hear them continuously complementing you throughout the night. I see your future spouse courting you the entire night, holding the door open for you, holding and kissing your hand and treating you like a Princess/Prince. I hear people approaching the two of you and assuming you two have been married for many years because of the chemistry you both have for each other. They will bring you flowers and a gift, I see diamonds in the gift bag. This date will be very simple but thoughtfully planned out and romantic. Your future spouse will pick you up and take you to an outdoor movie theater, I see the genre is either Horror or Romantic. After the movies, you two will head to an expensive and romantic restaurant, I heard your future spouse booked reservations a week prior as that's the earliest this restaurant allows otherwise they would have booked it even earlier to make sure everything was perfect and organized just for you. I'm hearing your future spouse speak French, they could be fluent or currently learning. You two will enjoy this restaurant and discuss coming back soon, after that I see you two going on a walk. it's a nice breeze but if you stay out too long it will get chilly. Your future spose will place their jacket on you to keep you warm and I hear you too laughing and talking about your future plans together. This date will feel very natural and not like any other you've experienced before. You will feel comfortable and relaxed with your future spouse and they will continue to make sure you feel safe, happy and understood until the end of time. Thank you for checking out my post, if you would like more reading's checkout my Youtube Channel! Click the link down below!

2. Pile Two:

Hi Pile Two, I hope all is well! Let's get started on your reading! Your first date with your future spouse will be in Tokyo, Japan or it will be inspired by the culture. I see that you two are very animated and love watching anime, reading Manga and playing video games. I see a very colorful scenery, and I feel that you two will have dates like this often. I feel your future spouse heart is about to pop out of their chest because of how excited they are to experience this with you. They know you will love this date and they can't wait to see your face light up with joy when the day finally comes. Your future spouse really wants to surprise you so they won't be too clear on when or where the date will be but they will make sure your are dressed appropriately when it's time. I also see there will be different events happening during this date, you two will change into different outfits and accept many gifts as well. It feels like at first it seems as though it's just a date but then you realize it's a celebration of your relationship. Some of you may find out that your future spouse has family who are apart of this event as well. They could be well known and established, I definitely see that this entire experience will leave your jaw on the floor. Your future spouse will continue to create adventurous dates for you two and you will also learn so much about each other during these moments. They will ensure that you're happy and check up on you throughout this date to make sure you're enjoying yourself just as much as they are. I see many people are happy for you two and there will be much love and positive energy sent your way. Thank you for checking out my post, if you would like more reading's checkout my Youtube Channel! Click the link down below!

3. Pile Three:

Hi Pile Three, I hope all is well! Let's get started on your reading! Your first date with your future spouse has something to do with fame and fortune. For some of you your future spouse is famous and very wealthy or this could be a close family member of theirs like a sibling or parent. Your future spouse may be in this prestige position but they don't like all of the attention the receive. I see booking a private jet to take you somewhere tropical and isolated. This place is very peaceful, private and just enough room for the two of you. Your first date will be on a private island, I see there will be lots of fruits and drinks for the two of you. Your future spouse will impress you with this date and during this intimate time you will really began to see how sweet they truly are. I see them feeding you and caressing your arms, shoulders, back and thighs. They will have intense eye contact with you and they will express to you how beautiful/handsome you look under the moonlight. I see you two getting very comfortable on the beach whilst listening to your favorite romantic songs. You two may even fall asleep for a moment on the sand. Your future spouse wants to take their time with you and spend every moment together for as long as possible. I see this date turning into a vacation and honestly that's what your future spouse intended it to be. Your future spouse won't be able to keep their eyes and hands off of you. Your reading is the shortest because it seems your date is cut short because of the passion and intensity between you two.

Thank you for checking out my post, if you would like more reading's checkout my Youtube Channel! Click the link down below!

[simplylov3ly]

hiiiii, could you do a max x oscar x fem reader where they’re mad and rough with femreader

SPARKS FLY !!

[summary] Being in a polyamorous relationship with Oscar and Max didn't seem as bad as you thought, but knowing that at one of the Grand Prix events, they both seemed more than a little annoyed, you knew instantly you were going to have the best, rough, most incredible sex of your life. But of course, you knew one thing: they weren't going to have mercy on you, they were going to give you what you deserved, and that was a good way to clear your mind.

[warnings] Smut !! The fem!reader is too submissive, in fact, the question is, who wouldn't be submissive to Oscar and Max? They're both sexy, they give me a little kick.

[content] oral sex (female and male receiving), rough sex, hair pulling, degrading dirty talk, spitting, unprotected sex, masochism, anal sex, clitoral masturbation, slapping, spanking, cum on face, rounds of sex and much more. Spanish is my first language, and i translate everything i write in Spanish because i'm learning English grammar. I hope you understand my process, and if you see any mistakes, please correct me.

[notes] I feel like this is complete crap for you... Either i'm too dry or I'm not good enough. I hope you like it. But, honestly, i'm going to love writing this so i don't know how many words it will have, so if you see that i'm going on a lot, know that it should be +2k words.

The motorhome wasn't just used for the pilots to rest, in fact, it was also used for having rough sex without anyone having to interrupt a single second of your time with Max... Or Oscar.

Right now, you were feeling the Dutchman's hand muffling your moans as he penetrated your ass relentlessly. He didn't hurt you; In fact, you were already used to him fucking you in such a way that, when you knew he was there, your hole opened involuntarily, ready for him and only him.

It was half an hour until the Monza Grand Prix. The race was almost ready to start, and Max had to fuck you properly before every Grand Prix because it gave him a little bit of "luck and hope" of winning a podium or pole position.

You were on all fours, tits pressed against the velvet fabric of the couch, your lower back and waist raised. Max's balls slammed against your skin, making a dry, hard sound, knowing you were being fucked like crazy. However, you didn't know how to stop screaming from the pleasure that consumed you like gasoline igniting in a fire.

"Don't come. I want to finish inside you without any complaints from you," Max growls, spanking you, leaving burning red marks along the way.

You... You were disoriented, your pussy clenching every vein and skin of his cock, trying to suppress the desire to cum, but you knew that if you did that, you were going to be punished by not seeing Oscar after the race.

Because you were in a polyamorous relationship with a Dutchman with a sixteen-centimeter cock and an Australian who, when he used his tongue, sucked your pussy like a slut in need of two guys to give her what she wanted every day, week, month, or second of your life.

Although your soul left your body when the motorhome door opened, you came back to life, calmed when Oscar's presence entered the motorhome. I locked the door and looked at you with a small, mischievous smile.

It was clear that Oscar was no saint, every time he saw Max fuck you hard and deep, he loved every fucking second because he knew perfectly well that you were being fucked like a little whore who had to be punished for being so capricious.

Oscar approaches you as he bends down to lift your chin a little, caressing your lower lip with desire to bring his face closer to yours and kiss you softly, biting your lower lip to enter his tongue into your mouth, tasting every part of your oral mouth.

You reciprocated everything because you were always turned on by the way Oscar pleased you, something Max hated because he wanted to see his girlfriend scream mercilessly at his anal fucking.

"Stop being so cuddly, Piastri," Max mutters, more grumpy than he should be. "I want her to scream like the little whore she is, not for you to give her the treat she wants."

"And who said I was going to give her what she wants what she wanted?" Oscar asked, standing up to begin undressing the top of his McLaren suit and pulling it down to his ankles while his cock was harder than a tree trunk.

You open your mouth to imagine that cock in your mouth, because despite your pure imagination, you knew perfectly well that it was going to fit in your mouth too well, you knew how to suck it to the point that your throat was going to memorize every vein of that fat cock.

"Stop being a whore, for God's sake." Max grabs her hair to straighten her up a bit, letting Oscar lean back in the chair and pull his member out. "Suck. Now."

You moaned loudly, biting your lip to smile a little, and when you were about to open your mouth, the Australian grabbed you by the hair as well, not letting you know that he was handling you at his whim as he guided you deep, putting his cock in your throat, making you cough in such a way that you knew you were going to have half an hour of sexual beatings.

Piastri moved back and forth, eagerly guiding your head as you felt the drool fill your mouth. You couldn't help but gurgle, dripping saliva from the corners of your lips as you rolled your eyes, enjoying how the kangaroo boy detonated your mouth, fucked it, controlled it at his fucking whim.

"You like it, don't you?" Oscar asked in a flirtatious, teasing way. He gently slapped your cheek to get you to nod. "I can't hear you. I want to hear you."

You only responded with sounds muffled by drool, your mouth busy sucking him off, which he controlled. Your moans were high-pitched and muffled as Max changed course and began running his tongue over your anal hole, and god, you couldn't take it anymore.

You didn't know how you were going to endure so many beatings that all you wanted was for Oscar to run his tongue over your folds, making you moan like the slut you are.

You looked at him, with those puppy dog eyes begging for something and he smiled knowing what you wanted, but he wasn't going to give it to you unless you were a good girl to both of them, to your boyfriends.

"Looks like the slut wants a new treat," Oscar murmurs, letting out several gasps of pleasure as he feels his cock slobber.

"I'm not giving it to her. She was really naughty today," Max says, moving away from your anal center to spit again and eat it all.

"So disobedient?" Oscar asks, pulling out of your mouth to feel his cock bounce a little, covered in drool all over. "How were you disobedient, my love?"

Your exhausted, stained mouth. Your labored breathing and the pleasurable stirring inside you. And while you're at it, Max eating your fucking asshole.

"Nothing." You replied, lying as always.

Max straightens up and lifts you up to place you between the two of them, who touch you, caress you, making you feel desired by both of them: which was true.

"Don't lie. Tell the kangaroo boy you're hooking up with Leclerc," Max growled, holding the back of your neck to make you look at Piastri. "She spent all day flirting with the Monegasque, the fucking bitch."

"Is that true?" Oscar asked, gently caressing your clit.

You knew he was torturing you because he wouldn't touch your sensitive core when Max said you were hooking up with Charles.

"No..." You replied timidly.

Oscar slapped you hard, then grabbed your jaw tightly and looked at you in a completely possessive way.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." Oscar warned seriously.

"I just don't want you to get mad at me," you mumbled, nervous as you felt him slap you again, making you gasp in pleasure and feeling a stabbing pain.

You loved Oscar's masochistic side, it made you tremble so much that you couldn't hide it.

"I'm not going to be mad at you, but Maxie's right," Oscar whispered, leaning closer. "We're supposed to be your boyfriends... Aren't two cocks enough for you to already need another bad third?"

"Osc..." You begged and felt Max throw you onto the couch to see you fall apart.

"How long do we have?" Max asked, still hard and wanting to fuck you in every fucking position if possible.

"Not long," Oscar replies, indifferent. He looks at you too.

"I propose we fuck her on the private jet. Does that sound okay?" Max asked, receiving a small nod of agreement.

Oscar adjusts his cock just like Max to put on the suit, leaving you without cumming, wanting more and with a fucking dissatisfaction.

They fucking assholes, why did you have to be such a bitch and go looking for trouble? How were you going to be a good girl?

[after two days]

The private jet was not only slightly turbulent from the flight, but because you were fucking Piastri's mouth knowing that he was sucking you off with such desire that you wondered if he was really mad at your bold move of flirting with Leclerc.

Although, Max didn't even look at you as you straddled Oscar's face in the jet's cramped aisle. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks, and his hands pressed against the skin of your body, running his tongue in circles over your clitoris, creating thousands of pleasurable sensations through the hot blood that coursed through you.

When Oscar manages to make you reach climax, he makes a sound to Max and you feel the Australian come out from under you, placing himself next to the Dutchman and they pull down their pants to leave their two already hard cocks in the air.

"Crawl like the fucking vixen you are and come suck our cocks. Now," Max orders, angrily.

"What? I thought they'd calmed down," you reproached, crossing your arms.

Max comes over and grabs you by the hair to drag you to where he was and hits your cheek with the palm of his hand.

"I don't give a fuck. Open your mouth." Max indicates.

You gave Oscar a puppy dog look, and he ignored you. So, you followed your boyfriend's command and started sucking his cock. A back and forth of drool and circular sucking of the tips. You felt them both guiding your head, squeezing your hair, and whispering dirty things to you.

Although, Max couldn't help it; he grabbed you and put you on all fours on the floor, positioning himself behind you, inserting his cock into your anal hole, making you moan mercilessly, without warning of his thrusts. You felt his balls slap against your skin, just like the other time in the RV two days ago...

Oscar gets under you and he manages to insert himself into your pussy, giving you a double penetration that made you squeeze too hard against them.

"Fuck, this feels so good..." You whispered, and received a hard spank, and another, another, another, successively as you prepared yourself for the worst punishment of your life.

"Shut up, you fucking whore," Max growls, giving you another spank, punishing you for being so capricious, so tantrum-throwing. "You're such a rebel. You don't know how much I hate Leclerc for being flattered by your praise."

"We're supposed to be enough, my love," Oscar says, making you look at him before slapping you sharply. "We're supposed to fill you up, give you attention... Why did you go with Charles?"

"Maybe..." You couldn't form the word you felt every thrust deep inside you, making you moan too loud and high-pitched, like a needy puppy. "I just wanted to tease you, okay?"

"You've got it all wrong," Max spanks her again, putting your arms crossed behind your back, making you rest your tits on Oscar's chest, who smiles at that delicious movement.

"I know! Fuck, I know... I'm sorry, okay?" You apologized, but that wasn't enough.

"You think an apology is going to make you look less like a whore, liefje, huh?" Max asked, angry as he rammed into you more roughly, more abruptly, not hurting you but wanting to make you feel tired, to make you know that he and Oscar are the only ones who can make her feel that way.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, please." You cried with pleasure and how your body became heavier and more exhausted.

Your tears flowed uncontrollably as Oscar gently wiped them away and continued fucking you too, at the same speed as Max, who seemed to be taking his anger out on you.

"Max..." Oscar calls, trying to be less abrupt.

"I'm not going to slow down, she deserves it," Max replies.

"I know, but look at her, she's exhausted." Oscar points out, watching you moan loudly, sweat dripping. "Fuck her the way she likes it without forgetting that we're punishing her for her bad behavior."

"Don't go soft," Max growls, toning down his roughness a bit but hitting you hard as he pulls your hair, straightening you up a bit to see how you enjoyed your punishment a little more.

The two of you continue with your rough sex until you promise not to do that again, being a good girl, a sweet girl like they like.

Despite your promise, they continue until the end, making you climax after a few minutes, resting your body a little, regaining your composure and catching your breath.

They caress you to see you tired, knowing that you learned a great lesson: never be rebellious with these two men, they can be the worst when it comes to a sexual beating.

[g1rld1ary]

mister carter - jily x fem!reader pt 2

part one wc: 5475 summary: you get closer to both potters, and sexual tension bubbles between all three of you warnings: nsfw mdni! pervy boss, inappropriate work relationships & hr nightmares, age gap, objectifying, kissing, nipple play, groping, piv sex (not involving r), boss-employee flirting, praise kink? power dynamics, dom!lily and james and submissive!r, voyeurism but consensual, pls let me know if i have missed any i'm not used to tagging smut!! me: inspired by the song mr carter/milktown by nep! thanku all for the love on part 1, we only get spicier as the series goes on! absolutely taking feedback on my smut(ish) writing as i haven't done much and would love to improve!

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Your weekend-long junk food and television binge didn’t go exactly to plan, as you were invited to a friend of a friend’s house party by someone you knew vaguely from uni. So your pyjamas had to be swapped out for proper clothes, and you’d ventured out to the liquor store for a bottle of cheap wine to avoid showing up empty-handed.

You were browsing the aisles for something in your budget and not totally shit when you saw a ponytail of red hair bobbing along the next aisle over. Your breath caught involuntarily, brain convincing you it had to be Lily despite it making no sense. London was a big city, and you were sure you lived nowhere near her postcode; there was no way it was her.

And yet, like a divine trick of fate, as you reached the end of the aisle, you almost knocked straight into her again, thankfully not dropping the glass bottle you were holding. Lily grabbed your waist to steady you, cold hands sending goosebumps up your midsection.

“Sorry!” You squeaked quickly, not wanting to address her directly in case she didn’t recognise you. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Oh, hello, lovely! What are you doing out here?” Lily asked, hands not moving. The question was innocent, but something in the way she was looking at you made you feel like it was slightly condescending, like she knew you weren’t good enough to be in the area. You couldn’t find it in yourself to mind when she was staring down at you with emerald eyes.

“Just heading to a party. I, um, didn’t wanna show up empty-handed,” You explained, eyes trained on the bottle in your hands. Lily laughed, a melodious sound clinking off the bottles around you.

“Well, please don’t bring that, it’s awful. Let me help.” Lily looped her arm through yours, putting the bottle back on a shelf and leading you through the store. You let yourself be led, taken aback by her easy familiarity. Lily was older, richer and infinitely classier than you, yet she was so willing, even eager, to help you out and do you favours she didn’t have to.

“Here, this tastes so much better and is still cheap.” She pressed the bottle in your hands, and you inspected the pretty label.

“Thank you!” You smiled brightly, heading towards the register. Lily called your name, causing you to stop and look back at her.

“If you want to impress the people at this party, you should pick a different top, something off the shoulder would be more flattering. Don’t change the jeans though, they’re irresistible.” You didn’t know how to respond. You were honestly kind of offended at the criticism, but at the same time, you wanted more of her validation. She was like one of those shitty pick-up artists who tore down women to make them more reliant on them, but it was working on you. Maybe it was just because Lily was a fashion executive, her words surely meant more concerning style.

Either way, her words — critique and compliment — played in your head for the duration of the walk to your friend’s place, where you’d be having pres. Once you passed the obligatory hellos and hugs, you posed a question to the room: “Does anyone have an off-the-shoulder top I can borrow tonight?”

You were humming a radio tune in the break room when it happened. You hadn’t been paying attention, though that probably wouldn’t have changed the outcome. James’s whistling alerted you to his presence before his figure, so you’d already turned to greet him happily. James, seeing you, also perked up and began to wave when he tripped on the slight step up. All in slow motion like the embarrassing scene in a romcom, James’ tea came flying out of his mug and toward you.

You could only stand and watch in horror as his tea got closer and closer, eventually splattering across your face and chest. You could only thank god that the liquid wasn’t scalding hot; in fact, it was freezing cold, goosebumps erupting under where it had landed.

“Oh my God,” James said, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” He rushed over to you, floundering as you stood in absolute shock. “It’s my tea from last night, I made it then got a call and completely forgot about it. I am so sorry.”

James darted across the room to grab a bunch of paper towels, handing you a few and beginning to clean the mess he’d created. After only a moment, he realised the compromising position, hand on top of your now-wet boob, and launched several steps back with a barrage of apologies.

“It’s alright,” You laughed nervously, “It was an accident. I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and maybe stand under the hand dryer for a minute.” You smiled to convince him, rushing to the bathroom with your hands crossed tightly across your chest.

You examined the damage in the mirror, wincing when you knew your white shirt and bra would definitely be stained from the drink. After a moment of hesitation, you unbuttoned your shirt, holding it under the hand dryer. The brown stain didn’t disappear, but at least it wasn’t dripping wet anymore. Your bra, however, was still an issue.

You looked between the shirt and yourself in the mirror, squinting as you considered your options. Not wanting to have a gross stain coming from underneath your shirt, you took off your bra, stuffing it in the waistband of your skirt and pulling your shirt back up your arms.

You reappeared in the break room to a still concerned James, though now with a new cup of tea, which he held dramatically far away as you re-entered.

“See,” You presented yourself with limp jazz-hands, “All good.” You shivered as the air conditioner touched you, goosebumps rising again.

James felt like an absolute creep, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your tits, nipples straining against the still-damp material. “Good,” He agreed, eyes flicking up and down, “You’re shivering, do you want my jumper?” You paused to think, not wanting to bother or inconvenience him.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” You conceded, shamelessly staring at the glimpse of happy trail revealed as James pulled the sweater over his head, and his crisp button-up was pulled out of his belt. You thanked him relentlessly as you pulled the expensive material over your head, but James waved it off with the same determination.

Unknown to you, he was similarly benefiting from the situation. One, you were wearing his clothes, and that unlocked a whole new realm of fantasies. Second, he could finally look away from your chest and pebbled nipples. He was beginning to grow afraid that he simply wouldn’t be able to get any work done for the rest of the day if you remained so tantalising, and he’d simply have to fuck you in his office to get his head back on straight. Not that either of you would have protested if the occasion ever arose.

The rest of the day passed inconsequentially after the incident, James’s sweater hiding any evidence that something had gone wrong and allowing you to get back to work. James, however, was unusually distracted, continually coming back to the vision of your perfect breasts any time his mind strayed from his work (often).

You stared at your feet as you approached James’ office on the higher level you’d never visited before, like it would stop others from looking at you in return. Of course, nothing was off about your appearance aside from your sweater perhaps being a few sizes too large, but that could easily be explained by a preference for oversized clothing; it wouldn’t be strange. Thankfully, James had an amazing wardrobe, probably partly due to his high-fashion empress wife, so his work outfits were always expertly made and in tasteful neutrals, perfect for your own barebones wardrobe.

You knocked softly on James’ office door at the end of your work day, knuckles rapping against the rich oak. You saw him through the glass panel, busy speaking quickly on a telephone, scanning through a thick pile of documents. He looked up at the sound of your knock, holding up a finger to indicate for you to wait until his call was finished. You nodded quickly, supplying an understanding smile as you studied the rings on your fingers to kill time, shivering from the too-high air conditioning.

After a few minutes, James came to the door with a crooked smile, leaning on the frame to look down at you.

“Sorry, love, I’ve been trying to get rid of him all day.”

“It’s no worries, Mister Potter, I’m happy to wait.” James brightened at your eagerness to appease him, ushering you into his office with a hand on your lower back. You didn’t seem to notice its inappropriate nature.

“So what did you need, lovely?” He asked, heading back to his desk.

“I just wanted to return your sweater and thank you again for being so kind. I’m glad it was you, if it had to be anyone.”

“I’m glad you think that, sweetheart. I’m glad it wasn’t anyone with bad intentions. But it’s really no worries,” James trailed off as you began to lift the sweater over your head, completely unaware that your peaked nipples were clearly evident through the thin white material of your button-up. It wasn’t your fault they kept the place so damn cold all the time. His eyes had a hard time straying from the straining fabric, slacks noticeably tighter.

In his haze, he stepped forward to retrieve the jumper while you similarly got closer to return it, resulting in James reaching out his hand and brushing your tits, eliciting a subtle, pleasured gasp as he made contact with your already pebbled nipple. You both stopped for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

You both pretended nothing happened, and you forcibly ignored the pulsing in your underwear.

“Um, thanks again, Mister Potter. I really appreciate you looking out for me.” James simply nodded, his ever-charming smile doing most of the heavy lifting to dissolve the awkwardness of the moment.

“Of course, darling. Come to me if you ever need anything.” You beamed at James over your shoulder, eager to be done and clock out for the day. You really liked how protective James was of you; it felt nice to have someone looking out for you and paying you attention, especially in a big city to which you were a stranger.

After a few weeks, you’d managed to sort out your life and finances and had, for possibly the first time, disposable income you were happy to spend. It was a good thing, too, as over the last few days, Lily’s first words to you had been replaying in your head. Your corporate clothes don’t fit perfectly well, which tells me you haven’t been in the office for long; everyone else upgrades to tailored clothes on their first few paycheques. The thrift store office wear had served you well for the first weeks of your internship, but you needed an upgrade. Everyone else in the office had perfectly fitted clothes in nice, luxurious fabrics, and it was time for you to catch up — shirts one size too small or large just weren’t cutting it anymore.

However, you didn’t know the first thing about expensive clothes. What was worth it, how to get things tailored; it was all a bit of a mystery. And so finally, finally, you unfolded Lily’s business card from inside your wallet and called the fashion empress.

To your surprise, Lily was more enthusiastic about a shopping trip than you were, organising a date only a few days after you asked for help.

That brought you to a store you’d never even heard of before, let alone shopped in, standing with Lily and a tailor as they poked and prodded the clothes you’d tried on.

“Add some darts to this shirt so it’s tighter around the waist,” Lily commanded, her expertise making up for your absolute cluelessness. “Hasn’t she got such a great figure? Let’s not hide it.” You found it both a little embarrassing and kind of hot how assertive Lily was being — it felt nice to have a commanding figure around when you’d felt almost perpetually unsure since moving to the city.

Lily nodded slowly as the tailor marked out the changes she was making. Then she had you turn around so they could assess the pinstriped trousers. Lily’s hand ghosted over your arse as she made a few adjustments, and a shiver shot up your spine at the intimate touch.

You emerged from the store several hundred dollars poorer, with the promise of a few work shirts and a mix of skirts and trousers that would be ready soon.

“Are you in the mood to continue shopping?” Lily asked as you left the store, looping her arm in yours, “Not work stuff, just for fun.”

“I would love to, but I really just can’t afford it,” You confessed, embarrassed to admit it when you knew Lily was both independently and maritally wealthy. Instead of laughing or acting snooty, Lily just looked at you, eyebrows slightly creased.

“I didn’t mean you were going to buy! Darling, you’re twenty-four doing an internship, I would never ask you to frivolously spend money. I’ll pay. So, do you have some time?” You opened your mouth to argue that you couldn’t possibly accept Lily just buying clothes for you, but she shut down that argument with a pointed look. “Honey, I don’t mean to be blunt, but let’s face it. You’re poor, I’m filthy rich, my husband is rich, and I want to buy you some pretty clothes. So, what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“Nothing!” You replied meekly, swallowing your pride and taking Lily’s kindness. She nodded decisively, dragging you over to where the more fun shops were, immediately grabbing a few things off the rack for you to try on. You were a little sceptical about her choices, flouncy little sundresses you wouldn’t ordinarily pick out for yourself.

Lily pushed you off into the fitting room, taking the boyfriend seat in the middle of the room, typing quickly on her phone as you pulled the beige curtain across.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, concerned by your appearance. The dress was pretty, white, floral and lacy, but you weren’t sure it really suited you. The neckline scooped low, revealing more of your chest than you would typically. That, combined with an excessively short skirt, made you doubt it was really the dress for you.

“Honey, are you ok? You’ve been in there for a while.”

“Uh, yeah!” You called, turning to see every angle in the mirror, “I’m just not sure this suits me.” Lily said something about that being ridiculous and drew back the curtain. You stood anxiously under her gaze, fidgeting with the hem of the mini dress. Lily’s emerald eyes raked over you, sweeping over your breasts and where the skirt sat just under the join of your arse and thighs.

“We’re getting this,” She decided finally.

“B— Mrs Potter!”

“You look gorgeous, boys will be falling all over you if you wear that. Besides, it’s my money, isn’t it?” Your hands were tied. A gift was a gift, even if you stayed too self-conscious to wear it out.

The afternoon progressed the same way, Lily picking out clothes you’d never choose for yourself, usually revealing or adventurous in a way you typically weren’t. Yet, every time you came out of the fitting room nervous or shy, Lily would shower you in compliments and insist on buying the clothing article.

“What bras do you wear to work?” Lily asked out of the blue, and you choked on the Diet Coke you insisted on buying for both of you — a feeble attempt at evening the score.

“I dunno, the ones I wear every day?” You shrugged, showing her the strap from under your tank top. Lily huffed, shaking her head.

“God, for such a beautiful girl, you are so close to hopeless,” She said, and you couldn’t tell how your body wanted to react — to the compliment or the insult. You felt that way a lot around Lily; she evoked a lot of confusing feelings in you.

Before you knew what was happening, Lily was dragging you into a lingerie store, thankfully skipping the colourful matching sets and heading straight to the boring neutrals, appropriate for under a work outfit.

She helped you pick out some bras and panties that would be invisible but flattering under the new clothes she’d just helped you tailor.

“You go on and try them, just message me pictures if you don’t want to come out of the fitting room.” You nodded meekly, taking the bras into the fitting room. Lily didn’t let her satisfaction show that it might result in her having pictures of you in a bra on her phone.

You did as she asked, trying the articles on behind the fitting room curtain.

“You decent, poppet?” You heard from the other side and replied quickly, pulling your tank top over your head so Lily could come in with you. “Do not worry if this is too uncomfortable for you, but I was browsing and just thought these would be absolutely perfect, you should try them on!”

It turned out Lily was talking about a few coat hangers of ribbons and lace. Just ribbons and lace. They were the skimpiest pieces of lingerie you might have ever seen, far beyond even the sexiest bras you already owned.

Lily saw your scepticism and made a show of shaking her head, taking the hangers off the hook she’d rested them on. “It’s completely fine that you don’t want them, don’t worry, darl! I’ll go put them back.”

“No!” You said, louder than you intended, “I’ll try them.” You didn’t know why you agreed — they were definitely out of your comfort zone, and you weren’t even seeing anyone. You had no reason for them, but something inside of you was desperate not to disappoint Lily, even if it meant figuring out how to climb inside a mess of lace and straps.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, eyebrows furrowed. You started off with the safest of the collection, a lavender bra and panty set adorned with frills on the waistband and bra straps, tiny purple flowers sewn onto the space between your breasts and the top of the underwear. The whole ensemble was tiny, but at least the mesh was pretty thick, so you didn’t feel totally exposed.

When you showed Lily, she cooed like you were the cutest thing she’d ever seen. She gushed over how amazing you looked, how flattering the cut was, on and on until you were convinced you liked it.

She did the same for the baby pink translucent camisole, paired with an embroidered floral thong. You were a little concerned about how much you were coming to depend on Lily’s praise. You hadn’t known her very long, and after only one day of quality time, you were preening under her validation.

Lily had picked out one more set for you, and it was by far the scariest. A deep emerald green body suit, complete with an excessive amount of straps, buckles and bows to hang off your body. The whole thing, despite on paper being the most full coverage of the lot, showed your every asset. That wasn’t helped by the fact that you couldn’t figure out how to wear it properly. It wasn’t because you were stupid — you were almost a lawyer for god’s sake — but clearly your brain wasn’t wired to know where superfluous ornamental details sat on your body.

“Um, Mrs Potter?” You called, looking down at the mess you’d gotten yourself in. “I think I need some help.” You weren’t completely hopeless; you knew where the crotch and bra cups (or lack thereof, to be honest) went, it was just the ornaments and trimming.

Lily slipped inside the fitting room with a bright smile, drinking in your body appreciatively.

“I knew this colour would be so sexy on you, let me help!” She fawned, immediately helping you connect the waist suspenders to the garter on your thigh. Her soft hands on the fat of your thigh made goosebumps erupt on the flesh; you hoped she didn’t notice.

If you thought Lily touching your thighs was bad, it was nothing compared to when she worked her way up your body, fastening buckles and tying bows. Especially not when, after a quick glance for permission, she palmed your breasts under the guise of helping them fit better in the almost non-existent cups. Your breath hitched as her hands held your tits, thumbs toying with your nipples with enough subtlety to have deniability, but enough intent to make them stand at attention. You really didn’t mean to lean into her touch, but who could blame you? A beautiful woman inflating your ego all day, calling you sexy and beautiful and spoiling you with hundreds of dollars worth of (slutty) clothes.

“There,” She said from behind you, hands trailing down your body to rest lightly on your hips. “Goddess in green, anyone would be lucky to have a chance with you.” Even you? You thought, then immediately shook the thought out of your head. Lily was married, to your boss, no less, ten years older than you, and married. Lily was not interested in you; you were her little pet project if anything.

You left the store with all three lingerie sets upon Lily’s insistence, feeling extremely indebted to her and physically riled up.

“Do you want to come back to my place? We can make some tea, watch a film.” You agreed easily, amenable to any suggestion Lily could make at that point.

You settled into the plush couch in front of the Potter’s television, observing the many photos littered around various surfaces. Judging by the appearance changes, Lily and James had known each other for a long time. Two different graduations, presumably secondary school and uni, parties, their wedding, even a photograph of them as children. You were slightly disheartened by the knowledge that you were already too old to have a relationship like theirs.

Lily returned with two steaming mugs of tea, sitting much closer than you anticipated. You could practically feel her body heat from where your thighs sat inches apart. You’d never seen the movie Lily switched on, but she promised it would be good.

“I love these shorts, by the way! I’ve been staring at them all day; I wish I could wear them, but I feel like I’m too old now.” Lily grabbed the hem of your shorts, feeling the ripped denim.

“Are you kidding? You’ve got great legs!” You cried, “I hope my legs look like yours in a decade!” It was true, Lily was in great shape, and her legs were miles of creamy white skin, dusted with red freckles. Lily made a joke about you making her feel ancient again, but the conversation soon died down, Lily’s hand resting on your thigh from when she admired your shorts. You tried to control the racing of your heart when she made contact, you shouldn’t — couldn’t be feeling so girlishly lovestruck over both Lily and James Potter, it wasn’t right.

You continued to watch the film in silence, Lily’s hand warm on your leg. Then, on screen, two women began to kiss, music changing to be sultry and erotic as it filled the living room. Your breathing faltered quietly, feeling the change of mood. Suddenly, there was a tension in the cozy living room, and you could feel Lily watching you.

“You’re so pretty,” She murmured, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. You turned slightly, the eye contact intense between you. Lily’s hand slid from your hair to rest feather-light on your neck, energy sparking between you. Lily’s eyes were flicking between your own and your lips, and you couldn’t help but mimic her.

You could all but feel Lily’s lips on yours, her lip gloss sticky on your own. A million thoughts and worries swirled around your mind, but Lily’s floral perfume silenced most of them, lust clouding your head as you both leant in.

The door creaked open, heavy footsteps wandering inside. You jumped away from Lily, safely on the other side of the couch when James walked in. You didn’t know how Lily looked so calm, her husband had almost caught her cheating on him with his employee, you’d think she would have a little more urgency.

“Hey, honey!” Lily called as James’ footsteps got closer. “How was your day?” James bounded over to his wife, kissing her with maybe a bit too much passion given that you were sitting only a metre away. You felt like a voyeur, especially with how you were admiring James.

Up until now, you hadn’t seen him out of his sharp work suits. Not that they weren’t delicious for the eye, but they didn’t come close to the outfit he was wearing now. A tight compression shirt highlighting his defined abs like he wanted you to look at them, and a pair of much too short athletic shorts, revealing muscular thighs and long legs.

“Oh, hi, lovely! What have you two been doing today?” You thought Lily would answer the question, but she appeared distracted and lovestruck, giggling like she was fifteen years younger.

“We, uh, went shopping!” You answered, pointing to the collection of bags on the floor next to the couch. James engaged happily, asking you questions and listening intently as you told him about the clothes.

Lily was acting bizarre next to her husband, shifting in her seat, giggling and touching him more than she should have been in a three-person conversation. Caressing his bicep or thigh, holding his hand, nuzzling his neck.

You took the hint; it was time for you to go. Standing up in a hurry, you made an excuse, thanking Lily profusely for all of her help and generosity as you collected your shopping bags.

“Really nice to see you too, Mister Potter!” You squeaked, slipping out the front door and onto the street.

You were strangely confused as you wandered down the footpath, the last few minutes puzzling you. The energy had shifted so suddenly, Lily behaving like an entirely different person. There was an undertone of sexual tension between the three of you, but you were terrified of making wrongful assumptions.

A few minutes into the walk, you realised you’d left your lingerie bag at the Potter’s, turning on your heel to retrieve it, pink sunset elongating your shadow. You paused for a moment, not believing what you’d just heard. A high-pitched, pornographic moan, floating through the air as if intended for you to hear. Deciding it wasn’t your business, you continued back to the Potter’s house, slipping inside the crisp white picket gate.

The moans, you discovered, were coming from the Potter’s house, which confused you slightly. You’d been gone for three minutes, tops, what could possibly have happened since then? You returned up the short cobblestone path to the front door, hearing Lily’s breathy sighs, pinpointing the sound to coming out of the top panels of the gorgeous bay window, all three cracked open. Your hand lingered on the door handle, hesitating as to knock or just leave it. Your decision was easily made when you heard your name uttered, and curiosity began to creep to the forefront of your mind.

You strayed from the path onto their perfectly manicured garden to satisfy your intrigue, peering through the tall bay window panes. You were all too aware you were being voyeuristic and intrusive, but in your defence, it was too easy, like you were supposed to be listening in. The window being open, the curtains — already a translucent sage — only half closed, left ample opportunity for anyone to look into the Potter’s home, and when you knew they were talking about you? It felt understandable to be eavesdropping.

You didn’t know how to feel about what you saw. Past the oak dining table, Lily was sitting on top of the marble kitchen island, holding herself up on her arms as her head lolled back in pleasure. Her breasts were out of her blouse, only covered by James’ huge hands as he played with her nipples, leaving sloppy kisses and bites up and down the pale expanse of her neck. You froze at the sight, both incredibly aware that you were being a complete pervert, and of the wet spot forming in your panties.

“God, you should have seen her,” Lily said, sighing as James nibbled the crook of her neck, “Looked so fucking good in that bra, just wanted to — ah! — take her there in the fitting room.”

“Fuck, baby, I know she’s got the nicest tits. If there weren’t still people in the office, I would’ve touched ‘em. Just like this.” James demonstrated how he apparently had wanted to handle your boobs the day you borrowed his sweater, thumbing over the left nipple to elicit a shudder as his teeth grazed over Lily’s right one, making her hum in delight as he paid them the attention they deserved.

“I’m still winning though,” Lily’s words were barely distinguishable through the moans and breaths they were both emitting, “I’ve gotten further than you, and I would’ve kissed her today if you hadn’t interrupted us.” She sounded annoyed, but you thought that was hard to believe when she was actively untying the drawstring of James’ athletic shorts, fiddling with the knot over his prominent bulge. The noise James made was primal, coming from deep inside his throat.

“You two are so fucking sexy, need to see you together.”

You tore yourself away from the porno unfolding in front of you as Lily reached into James’ pants, catching your breath against the brick wall, safely out of sight from the window. What the fuck was happening? Maybe you weren’t the most sexually experienced person in the world, but you were fairly certain the Potters were using you to rile each other up and have good sex. And honestly? You should have been less turned on. You should have been utterly offended and terrified and violated, and yet all you could think about was how soaking wet you were. You figured you’d get your lingerie back another day and set off for the subway station, humming happily at your epiphany.

Lily sighed as James thrust into her, clutching the curls at the nape of his neck.

“James,” She cried, grasping the edge of the kitchen countertop, “James, she saw.” James only let out a strangled moan, fucking his wife harder and faster.

Later that night, with your fingers deep inside yourself, your eyes caught on the stack of shopping bags sitting next to you on your bed. Gasping in pleasure, you decided if the Potters wanted to use you as a pawn in their jealous, kinky sex lives, you were a more than willing participant. In fact, you thought it was fucking hot. Especially when they showered you in validation and material gifts. Was it immoral? Probably, but so was fucking your wife while sexually fantasising about the intern a decade younger than you.

On Monday morning, your lingerie was sitting on your desk wrapped in a less conspicuous reusable grocery bag for all of your sakes. When you unwrapped it in the safety of your home, the seal of the protective tissue paper was ripped. You grinned. They’d been looking at it.

[thatbuddie]

(the one where mel and frank kiss)

mel/frank | 1.4k | rated t | silly, secret relationship, kissing, silly, inspired by that one friends scene (you know the one), silly, fluff, did i say silly?

♡

Mel loves her salad. She really, really loves her salad. She loves her salad with its cherry tomatoes, its mini cucumbers cut in precise and even slices, its mozzarella pearls. She loves her salad with the soggy iceberg lettuce, its oxidized avocado, its too crunchy sunflower seeds.

She loves her salad so much she is chewing it slowly, meticulously. Some would say she is savoring it.

Some would probably say she is avoiding having to take another bite of it, but she refuses to turn around and even look at this some no matter how many times this some nudges her with his elbow.

That is, until some knocks his elbow into her arm so hard that he makes her poke herself on the cheek with the fork she was carefully bringing closer to her mouth. The piece of avocado that was pierced on it feels mushy against her skin and leaves a trail of oil from the corner of her lips to almost her right sideburn.

When Mel finally looks at Frank, he has the gall to look amused. His right eyebrow is raised, he is biting his bottom lip, and she can read his face perfectly.

It says, “I told you so.”

Just for that, she uses her fork to spear through some more of her salad and makes a show of eating it.

“Yummy,” she hopes the expression of her face says to him.

If his growing smile tells her anything, it’s that he doesn’t really buy into it, though.

“It’s not too late to admit defeat,” his eyes scream as he nudges his paper take out bag closer to her.

He’s been periodically reaching in to grab a fry at a time from it for the past two minutes, the moves purposefully casual but so incredibly mocking of her pain just the same.

Not that she is in pain eating her salad. Because she loves her salad.

She tells him so with just a scrunch of her nose. “I love my salad.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head lightly pursing his mouth and very loudly telegraphing his thoughts at her.

“You should have listened to me,” he thinks at her, smug and empathetic all at once. “Making the salad last night means it’s too squashy now and you’re hating the texture. And you were so tired making it that you definitely accidentally dropped half the salt shaker in it.”

Well, his thoughts are probably not as detailed as that, but they absolutely carry the same message. He was right. She wants his fries so, so bad. Blah blah blah.

“Take them,” his nudging of the bag says. “Baby, just take them.”

She is 95% sure he calls her baby in his thoughts as often as he does so out loud.

With a resigned sigh, Mel extends her arm and reaches inside the bag, coming away with a handful of golden fries.

His smile radiates victory. She would be more annoyed by it if not for the fact that the fries really taste as good as they smell.

Mission clearly accomplished, he dusts off his hands as he pushes back his chair, standing up.

“Back to work,” the cracking of his knuckles indicates.

She already knows what he’s going to do next, so she half turns her upper body to make it easier for him to bend down at the waist and press their lips together.

He hums against her month which definitely means, “You taste like fries.”

She playfully tugs his bottom lip with her teeth, telling him, “Go save some lives and leave me and my fries alone.”

“Ahem,” someone says, very much out loud.

Frank freezes, his mouth still against hers. Their eyes open and meet as he slowly backs away.

“You totally forgot they were here too, right?” his stare silently asks her.

“Oops,” she wordlessly replies with a shrug.

They look around the room in synchrony. Sitting on Frank’s other side, Cassie is shaking her head in amusement. Next to Mel, Donnie puts down his phone very calmly in a way that is definitely suspicious.

From her place leaning against the counter, Dana —obviously the one that interrupted their kiss— fiercely judges them.

Mel looks up at Frank once more and finds his stare bouncing wildly from Cassie to Dana to Donnie and then back to Cassie again. He does this twice, and then three times.

Cassie to Dana to Donnie. Repeat.

“Well,” he says, throwing his arms up and then moving his index finger around the break room like he’s trying to point at all three of their coworkers at once. “I’m not kissing all of you now.”

Mel tilts her head, confused by the conclusion Frank has seemed to arrive at.

“Please, Langdon,” Cassie says. “I promise you no one wants you to kiss them.”

“I do.” The words escape from Mel’s lips before she’s even aware she has thought them. She would regret them, but they’re the truth and nothing but the truth.

The way Frank turns to look at her also helps. His eyes are so soft and affectionate, and she can hear his “I love you” loud and clear even though he doesn’t even say it. She can feel it, really.

“Okay,” he says, quite reluctantly looking away from her to stare back at everyone else in the room again. “So that’s settled. I’m not kissing anyone else just to cover up that I accidentally kissed Mel. This isn’t exactly how we would have wanted this to go but whatever: me and Mel are dating. There you go. The cat is out of the bag.”

His announcement is as grandiose as it is underwhelming. Mel doesn’t feel like the world stops turning or like the tectonic plates shift. She barely feels a skip in the beat of her heart.

The most she feels is a little proud of them. Going seventeen shifts keeping it a secret is more than she expected of them, but Frank had been adamant that they could keep it professional and hushed and only their goddamned business. His words, of course.

“Wait,” Dana says, pushing away from the counter as she points at Frank with her mug of coffee, “you think you— You really— We don’t—“

And then she hinges forward and begins laughing harder than Mel has ever heard anyone laughing in her entire life. She didn’t think human beings were capable of laughing like this. If she didn’t know Dana so well by now she would suspect her of faking it, but Mel does know her so she is sure this is the realest laugh in the world.

It’s Donnie that finally says, “Dude, we know. We’ve know for weeks now.”

“What?” Mel and Frank ask at the same time.

“About two weeks ago, when you were both on the night shift, Shen saw you quote unquote going at it on the roof. Then Shen told Ellis, Ellis told Santos, Santos told Whitaker, Whitaker told Javadi, and Javadi basically wrote a newsletter and mailed it to the entirety of the Greater Pittsburgh region,” Donnie explains.

Two weeks ago during a night shift. Mel remembers that, of course, as she had been called to cover for Ellis when she came down with the stomach flu , and Frank had been elated to know he wouldn’t have to go for an entire shift without her.

That had been, if Mel is doing her math correctly —and Mel always does her math correctly—, two shifts into their relationship.

Two shifts of keeping it a secret. Yeah, that definitely is a lot more realistic of them.

“So everyone knows?” Frank asks, putting strong emphasis on the word everyone.

“Everyone, kid,” Dana confirms.

Frank looks pensive for a second, brow furrowed.

“Neat,” he says, shrugging. “In that case…”

He turns back towards Mel, bending down again and using his hands to grip her face, bringing their mouths together in a kiss not exactly filthy but definitely too dirty for the workplace.

Mel doesn’t put a stop to it, though, because she’s not stupid and because she really, really, loves to kiss Frank. It might even be her favorite thing in the world.

“I’ll see you later, baby,” he says when they pull apart.

He pecks her on the tip of her nose once before moving away from her and the table. He salutes everyone as he opens the door and exits the break room, being swallowed by the chaos of the ED once more.

Silence reigns for a second before Mel breaks it.

“Does anyone want my salad?” she asks, nibbling on a perfectly salted fry and moving her open Tupperware container to the middle of the table.

[zepskies]

Ahahaaa I love it!! Definitely need to buckle in for this one - it's wild ride for more than one reason lmaooo 🙀

This was soooo good! Pure poetry, friend! Brava 😍👏❤️‍🔥

ehehe thank you, lovely! Coming from you, that's big praise. 🥰🥰 (Also was debating like, how many metaphors for this is too many? Trying to be more creative with the smut writing 🤣)

Not the soap drop 🤣

*snorts* admittedly was a bit cliché and a little mean, but I couldn't resist 😂😂

I’m watching you…

😘

I’m reading up 😭😭😭 I’m happy he gets to say it to her again, but at the same time, I hope it’s not inevitable if the last times 🥲

You know, I even debated whether he should admit it yet, but for some reason it felt right. 🥹 Maybe because he knows he may not have as many opportunities to say it, and he's still reeling that she forgave him and is back in his life. ❤️‍🩹

Uh-huh, let’s do the fucking “second opinion stuff,” Mark?! How long does he think he can wait with this? 😅 And you raised an interesting point that I kept thinking throughout watching (and especially during that little fainting spell in 1x05) – how long does he think he’s gonna be okay enough to do this? At this point, it seems most likely he hopes to get shot because it’s be quicker 🙈

Right?! lmfao she's definitely going to bring that up again soon.

That's honestly what I keep thinking about. Until when does he think he can hide this from his team? And like we just saw in 1x05, how long until that happens while he's mid-mission, not just in a stairwell safe in home base. 😰 I think you're right - he'd rather just keep making reckless moves until he gets taken out on the job somehow, or at least try to finish this last mission.

Lol that poor man. Actually so curious where his story goes 👀

lol me too! He was thwarted in 1x05, but I don't think we've seen the last of him 😂

Yup!!! But I fear Rachel is too far gone and you can’t help someone if they don’t wanna be helped 🤷‍♀️

It's quite possible! But maybe by the end of this one she'll get some clarity on a few things lmao

Of fucking course! God, I hate that woman so much 🤮😂

hahaaa right? She's a lot (too much) 🤣🤣

I loved how reader instantly tore into Rachel! I was cheering her on throughout 😂👏👏👏

When she said "on sight," she truly meant on sight! 😝 Their problems go back way past Mark, unfortunately, so it was like popping the cork open on years of resentment on both sides 😅

Haha his road rage stood out to me, too. Fuckstick 🤣🤣

💯💯 lmfaooo girl I had to put it back the first time because I was like, "he really said 'fuckstick'??" 😂😂😂 This man.

This whole bit had me rolling!! Loved how reader just really gave it to Rachel, and Mark just stood and watched 😂😂 But man, this girl deserved it, and you delivered. Thank you, Alex 😻😌🙌 (And it’s clear theres no coming back from this. I don’t even think Lisette likes Rachel 😂)

Ahaha I'm so glad you enjoyed the show! (we know Mark did.) 🤣🤣 Reader definitely went all in, and tbh I think Rachel deserved it too. Girl needed a reality check 🤣 (honestly no, Lisette is that sad, disappointed woman who just realized she created a monster lol.)

That cut so deeply and it’s so true 😭 Please don’t kill my heart with this series 🙏 (Slowly regretting sending you that song lmao)

Oof yeah, I think this is the part that justifies reader's rage the most. It's not just the fact that Rachel tried to steal her man/wreck her relationship, but the fact that reader and Mark lost precious time where they could've been already married, him getting treatment, etc.

Also I'm trying not to kill my own heart with that song inspo. 🤣🤣 Still trying to decide how big of an asshole Mark is gonna end up being in the next one 😅

Awww, such a callback to Downgrade! I loved this little tidbit between them and how it reminded him of her back then 😍🥹

omgg I'm so happy you caught that little tidbit!! 🥹 That's exactly what I was going for 💕

Oooh, I can’t wait to see where you take this! They tried to paint Valwell in a better light with what Bell said, but I’m still kinda sus of the man – asset or adversary? So I love that reader is in the middle of all of this (even if she doesn’t know it yet) 👀

Aww thank you!! Nah I think Valwell is skeevy tbh. Maybe he was a good prosecutor in his younger days, but he strikes me as getting more of an ego as the power got to him. Reader may or may not be about to find out how in the middle she is in the next part... 🫢

And I sound like a hypocrite after I told you about my angsty deadly Mark dreams, but please let that second opinion work out 😅🙏 Can’t wait for the next part, Alex!! 😍💙💜

Oh my God, Wayne you nearly killed me with that!! 😭 Please be gentle with my heart, friend, you know I'm delicate! 😂😂💙🩵

I'm so happy you're enjoying this little series! I'm genuinely having a lot of fun with it, like I know you're having fun with ATS. Right now I'm torn between going my own way and seeing what they do to end S1, but I guess we'll see in parts (and episodes) to come...

SISTER, SISTER

Pairing: Mark Meachum x F. Reader

Summary: You and Mark have an emotional reconnection after he finally comes clean. But that also means you have some unfinished business to take care of with your sister, Rachel.

AN: Wrote this last week because I guess I can't stop myself! 😂 So yep, these Mark stories have officially become a series of one-shots called — ‘Til When Do Us Part. This one is also a gif check requested by my friend @lamentationsofalonelypotato for the 5K Follower Celebration. I think this is an important puzzle piece to explore after Catastrophic Blues. 😉

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: [Set during 1x02] 18+ only! Reunion smut, fluff, an epic cat fight (lol), angst, hurt/comfort

Series Masterlist

His hair dragged through your fingers again. First soft and loose, then gripped tight—desperate, hot tingles across your skin.

It was almost too much.

A halting moan fell from your lips, his biting kiss along your throat as he moved inside you.

“Fuck. Takin’ me better than ever, baby,” he said into your skin, his words gritted out and tinged with smoke and relief. “Gonna feel me for fuckin’ days at this rate.”

The sound of his voice reached deep into your bones. The safety of his arms caged you underneath him on his bed, the old mattress creaking with every test of the springs. He wrapped an arm around your thigh like curling steel, opening you up more for him, making his rolling thrusts hit deeper. Harder. A man possessed.

You gasped, your pussy already throbbing in time with your heartbeat. Your words were barely syllables, but they escaped you nonetheless. "Oh, fuck. Mark..."

He smirked into your neck. His lips trailed down to your shoulder and nipped harder with teeth, just to feel you writhe against him. You whimpered, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chest when you arched back up into him.

His hot breaths further ignited your skin. Your nails raked down the back of his neck and down his shoulder as you held on for the ride—an obscene squelching of wetness and hot breaths, skin against flushed skin. Your fingers pressed into every divot of muscle, as if you could sink right through his skin and make him feel you. Not for days. Forever.

You didn’t have words to speak. It was all in your eyes when they met his. Raw, vulnerable, glassy with pleasure, your breaths unsteady with emotion.

He pulled back a little, just so he could slip his hand between your bodies and find your slick, swollen clit again. He swept the pads of his fingers in the angles and rhythm he knew would serve you best in between his thrusts.

He swallowed your gasp of his name, your whimpers as you shuddered and came. A sensation like kaleidoscope colors, bursting like so many stars. You fucking squeezed him from the inside out for the third time tonight, finally forcing a ragged groan from his own lips as he spilled into you. His hips stuttered a shaky and powerful release.

You grabbed his face and poured your soul into that kiss, a wet and filthy meeting of lips and tongues.

Panting breaths forced their way through his nose, but he wouldn’t break that kiss for all the world. He finally had you back in his arms. He had the scent of your floral soap in his nose, your familiar sweetness on his tongue, your hair threaded through his fingers. He had it all.

It wasn’t the faded memories he clung to in a brick-and-mortal cell, or the daydreams of what if that had been torturing him whenever he saw a girl in a white dress, or a family sitting at dinner with their little kids in highchairs. 

It was you, solid and real.

Your kiss swollen lips dragged from his slowly, reluctantly, with shaky breaths in between.

He let your thighs slip down to rest more comfortably around his hips, but he didn't move just yet. He stayed buried deep inside you.

He brushed your frizzy hair away from your forehead, his eyes a little softer, less crazed. You sniffled as a tear rolled from the corner of your eye. He swept the wetness away with his thumb.

“I know it was good, but you don’t need to cry, sweetheart,” he teased lightly. There was a tender note in his voice though.

Your heart clenched to hear it. Part of you still couldn't believe this was real. Despite yourself, you laughed a little, breathless and boneless.

“I guess it’s just, um…it’s been a while.”

“Really? You haven’t, uh, been seeing anyone?” he asked, trying to hide the hope from his voice.

You snorted. “No.”

Plain and simple. He quirked a smile.

“And you?” you asked reluctantly, as if the answer wouldn't tear into you if he said any form of yes.

He almost laughed. “I was in lockup for nine months, remember?”

Relief allowed you to relax again. A smirk began to curve your lips as your fingers tapped an idle rhythm on his dewy arms.

“What, you didn’t get yourself a little boyfriend? No ‘drop the soap’ action?” you teased.

Mark’s jaw nearly unhinged. He stared down at you, disbelief and amusement warring for dominance at your cheek.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?”

Your whole body shook in effort to contain your giggles, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he tried not to laugh. Honestly, he should’ve expected nothing fucking less from you.

You were still kee-keeing when you caressed his bearded face with both hands, then twined your arms around his neck. But soon, you sobered up.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… You had to live with those animals for almost a whole year. I can’t even imagine how deeply shitty that was. How scary,” you said.

Mark huffed, shaking his head. He rubbed your arm and pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“Heh. I was in hell long before I walked into Palmdale,” he said.

The confession slipped through his lips before he could think better of it, but there it was. Your expression fell even more. With a sigh, he stroked your cheek. Then he carefully withdrew, pulling out of your heat. You both felt the loss with soft groans.

He climbed out of bed just to grab a towel from his bathroom for the cleanup.

This was the first time you’d come to his place, just a couple of days since he took you home from that bar in Downtown. Two days since he came clean to you about what happened in Venice. Two days since you somehow found it in your heart to forgive him.

He still didn’t know what the hell he was doing with you. He hadn’t discussed it with you, hadn’t labelled it. It was almost as if you two had picked up from where you left off, except this time, there was an unknown expiration date.

That reminder literally hit him between the eyes. It forced him to pause in the bathroom and white-knuckle grip the edge of the sink. He grimaced and willed the pain away, stifling a grunt. Fuck...not even a moment's fucking peace.

"You okay?" your voice filtered over from the bedroom. Mark turned his face away from the mirror, just in case you could catch an angle of him.

"Yeah," he said, a little rougher. He breathed in deep, until the sharpest edges were passed. He padded back out and brought the dampened towel back to you.

It was late, but he still checked his phone on the nightstand for any missed notifications. He never knew when he might get called in by Blythe—another thing Mark couldn’t tell you about. He wondered if the taskforce was on your radar anyway, what with how D.A. Valwell was consistently trying to butt into their operations.

So far, you hadn’t mentioned anything weird going on with your boss in the office. Maybe Valwell was keeping you out of it. As he should.

You welcomed Mark back into bed and under the covers, luring him into a kiss as he settled in beside you. He drew you into his arms and couldn’t help but stare. He took in every contour of your face. Every shade of beauty.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Have I said that yet?”

A slight, sad smile twitched at your lips. Your heart pulsed sharply.

“What’s happening to you isn’t your fault. There’s no reason to be sorry,” you said.

“There is a reason,” he nodded. “I didn’t want to leave you twisting in the wind. I just…”

“I know,” you sighed. You watched his profile as he looked ahead, rather than at you directly. A deep breath ran through him, not altogether steady.

“I love you,” he said. He swallowed, jaw clenching. “Think it’s pretty obvious that I never stopped.”

You guided his face back toward you with a gentle hand on his cheek. Your thumb brushed over his lips.

“It’s become painfully clear to me,” you said, “that I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

Morning came, and you weren’t ready. You didn’t want to leave this house with its familiar smell and its gray-blue walls, which you and Mark painted together. After he inherited the house from his mother, who passed away a few years ago, you helped him clean and touch it up without losing the character of the house.

You were going to officially move in with him after you two got married and let go of your Downtown apartment that was close to your job, but often so empty. Obviously, that move never happened.

“You’re having dinner with your mom tonight, right?” Mark asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You finished tucking in your blouse into your skirt and began to fix your hair in his wardrobe mirror. You had to go into work, and so did he. He was buckling his belt over his jeans, already dressed in a dark green shirt and one of his favorite leather jackets—the black one you helped him pick out.

“Yeah, every Tuesday,” you nodded. You turned and reached for the edges of his jacket. “I know it’s your business to share, but…can I tell her about what you’re going through? That we’re back together? She would want to see you.”

Mark hesitated. “I’d like that too, but let's just keep this between you and me for now.”

You frowned. “I still can’t believe you haven’t told your precinct. How long do you plan to work like this? Mark, what if…what if something happens when you’re on the job? I mean medically.”

He couldn’t blame you for your worry and concern. He held you by your arms and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“You know I’m on a case right now. It’s important,” he said, trying to communicate the gravity of it through his eyes, the tone of his voice. “After that’s done…I don’t know. We’ll talk about it. That and the, uh, second opinion stuff.”

Despite your lingering worry, a small smile peeked through. “At least you said we.”

Mark flickered at a smile too. He bowed down to kiss you on the forehead, lingering there with a short sigh. Ever since he left you, he’d been operating with a reckless head and a worse heart. But if you were determined to stick this out with him, like you seemed to be, then it wasn’t just about him anymore.

He’d have to protect you too.

“Mmm, smells good, Mom,” you said, shutting the door of your childhood home behind you. Inside, the modest three-bedroom house was filled with the rich savory smell of something warm in the oven.

Your mom, Lisette, waved you over with her oven mitt hand. 

“Hey, honey. Come ‘ere and taste this.”

She took out a large glass pan filled with beef pot roast, complete with carrots, little yellow potatoes, and charred sprigs of rosemary on top.

“Wow, all that for just the two of us?” you asked, kissing her on the cheek. She just smiled and gave you a forkful after she blew on it first. You took the bite and fairly melted.

“Ughhh, so good. It’s been a long time since you made a whole…” You trailed off as you realized it.

Lisette’s smile turned bittersweet. “Yeah, it was your father’s favorite.”

She took off her oven mitts and left the pan to cool on the counter. She braced a few fingertips on the edge of that counter, as if her mind contained too many memories to sort through. You brushed a hand against her arm, earning her attention.

“Thanks. I brought dessert too,” you said, raising the grocery bag in your hand. You set that on the counter as well. You gave your mom a hug, warm and comforting.

Lisette sighed and hugged you back gratefully. She rubbed your back, like good moms did. But when she pulled back, she noted the smile on your face with a raised brow. It was genuine, not the fake ones you gave to pacify her. In fact, you looked more relaxed, more like yourself.

“You seem…”

“What?” you asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. A little happier today, I guess,” she said. “Did something good happen at work?”

You huffed. “No. Valwell’s antsy and frustrated about something, but every time I ask what’s wrong, he tells me it’s fine. Nothing for me to worry about.”

Not to mention, he’d taken three long lunches at odd times in the past week alone. Every time he got back to the office, he seemed more agitated and upset, storming through the halls like they owed him rent money.

“Well, it’s probably above your clearance, honey,” said Lisette. “If he wanted you to know, he would tell you.”

You frowned thoughtfully, tapping a nail on the counter. Before you could think too hard on it, your mom subtly cleared her throat, the way she always did when she was a bit nervous. She busied herself with grabbing silverware for the dinner table. Your brows drew together.

“You grabbed three sets,” you pointed out.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “We’re going to be three today.”

“Who else is coming?”

Lisette hesitated, didn’t seem to want to meet your suspicious gaze. “Your sister. I invited her.”

Your face fell. Stony and incredulous.

“You did not.”

“I did. You two haven’t spoken in almost a year.”

“For good damn reason, Mom!”

“I know,” Lisette said, in a sharper voice than you expected. After a moment though, she softened. “I know. What she did to you…it’s frankly incomprehensible. But she’s still your sister. Your father would be sick to know you two are fighting like this.”

A harsh sigh fell from your lips. You rubbed your temples with both hands.

“We’re not fighting,” you said. “I’m just choosing to pretend I’m an only child.”

Lisette gave you a sad frown that spoke more volumes than her words could. You felt a stab of guilt for it, but you didn’t take it back. If you had to see that hateful bitch today, then you wouldn’t hold back this time. It would be on sight.

And…of fucking course.

As if on cue, there was a commotion at the front door. The lock began to turn and click. Then the door slid open, revealing Rachel with her key to the house poised in hand. She was a personal trainer and yoga instructor, so she was wearing her skin-tight Halara leggings (yes, the “TikTok Leggings”), along with a breezy crop top.

She had a chain-link purse strung over her shoulder and oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, but you could still see her eyes widen when she caught sight of you, her steps stopping short in the doorway.

You stared right back at her. Your teeth clenched, like a train grinding against the tracks at a hard stop and shooting off sparks. Everything Mark told you two days ago came rushing through your mind—every unwanted touch, every disgusting, manipulative word she used to try and spin him into her web while he was at his worst.

“What—What’re you doing here?” she said, a frightened little deer caught in your trajectory.

You didn’t even answer. You couldn’t speak.

You just moved, rounding the kitchen counter and cutting through the dining room with a purpose. Rachel squeaked, and she scrambled to back out of the house the way she came in. She flung the door open and retreated.

You followed.

“I know what you really did, you lying, psycho bitch!” you hissed. Your voice carried and seemed to slap Rachel upside the head. She stopped on the stone walkway leading up to the house. She turned around, lifted the sunglasses to the top of her head, and she glared at you warily.

“What’re you talking about?” she shot back.

You laughed in disbelief. “Oh, don’t act dumb now. What you did to Mark isn’t just reprehensible. I should file a report and get you fucking arrested for being a vile cunt.”

Rachel’s eyes flashed. Her face screwed up in anger, so much that she strode back up the steps and slapped you across the cheek. Your head twisted to the side at the stinging blow. You even stumbled a little, but your shock gave way to a grim smile.

Can we say, self-defense?

Her face dawned with realization, just a bit too late. She didn’t even have the instincts to duck your punch.

“Goddamn it. Fucking move, people!” Mark muttered uselessly at the cars in front of him.

It had been a long damn day. It also looked like he and the team were heading to Mexico in the morning. Doing a drug run for Javi, a local cartel boss, would hopefully get them one step closer to finding out who he carried a shipment of goddamn fissile material for. They had to find out who was trying to orchestrate another 9/11 in California. 

Mark was on his way home, cutting through L.A. traffic the best he could during rush hour. His stomach was practically attacking his liver in hunger. He also wanted to see you before he left, hopefully for just a day or two.

Didn’t you say you were over at your mom’s for dinner? Damn, that woman could cook.

How many Sunday dinners had he spent with your family in the past five years? All those Christmases and Thanksgivings, birthdays, Fourth of Julys at the beach and Memorial Day backyard barbeques.

Your mom was a sweetheart, too. She always bought him gifts at Christmas, never forgot his birthday, always saved him a special cut of whatever she was cooking. Truth be told, she was like a second mother to him, especially after his mom passed.

Mark sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his head slowly fall back against the headrest. A warning flash of pain echoed through his skull, like a small oyster knife on the twist.

Fuck me.

It would be good to see Lisette—and be able to share another one of those meals with you too, however many of them he had left.

The traffic light finally turned green. Mark found himself changing lanes, then changing directions. Another twenty minutes had him pulling up to your family home on a quiet residential street.

Well, it was usually quiet.

“Aw, shit.” Was that Rachel out there on the driveway? What the hell was she doing here?

She was beelining up those cobblestone steps right for you. She threw you a slap so hard it snapped your head to the right, making your hair fly in your face.

“The fuck?!” His angry brows furrowing, Mark parked the car and unclipped his seatbelt quick, but when he next looked up, he caught sight of your swift left hook.

“God-damn,” he couldn’t help but laugh. As a man of the law, he knew he should've been stepping in right about now, but this opportunity was a little too satisfying to give up. He stayed where he sat to watch the show.

Rachel went down like a sack of shit.

And you didn’t waste no time. You pushed her the rest of the way down into the grassy front yard and got on top of her, pinning her arms behind her back and wedging your knee in her spine. Before she could swing back and headbutt you, you shoved her face into the grass.

Your dad taught you pretty damn well.

Rachel screamed and cried for help, but all it did was fuel your ire. You felt crazy and deranged, but you also felt alive too, for the first time in a long time.

Meanwhile, your mom watched in worry from the porch. Her protests weren’t strong enough to reach you though.

“Get off me, you fat ugly bitch!” Rachel screeched.

You saw a nice little brown pile the neighbor’s dog must’ve left this morning. It was just close enough for you to grab (unfortunately) with your bare hand. You pulled her head back by her hair and smeared dog shit all over her face—her cheeks, her forehead and chin. Her shrill screech reached new heights.

The neighbors could’ve been watching with shocked open mouths and iPhone cameras raised high, but you didn’t give even half of a fuck. You did quiet her down though, by shoving her face back into the dirt. The lawn was still nice and damp from the afternoon sprinklers.

“Yeah? You like that? Keep talking shit and I'll break your fake-ass nose, which I helped pay for!” you shouted. “I waited in that fucking lobby for hours while they hacked off the old one. I gave you cold compresses for your swollen, puffy lobster face. Now how about I snap that shit off like you’re Mr. fucking Potato Head?”

She cried as if you were killing her. Dramatic, as always. But eventually she stopped wriggling and thrashing so much, just shaking her head and sniveling. Realizing she wasn’t about to get out of this so easily, she switched tactics.

"Okay." She splayed her hands out the best she could behind her back in surrender. "Okay! Jesus Christ, I'm sorry!"

“Oh, yeah? You’re sorry? What’re you sorry for?” you asked.

"I already told you I fucked him! I fucked your fiancé!"

"No, but you tried to," you seethed. "You just couldn't, could you? Because he's a good man, and you're a lying slutbag. Isn't that right?"

Rachel tried to deny it, but the harder you shoved her shit-stained face into the wet dirt, the more she coughed and spluttered. You eased up just enough for her to nod her head, lips trembling.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I was wrong. I didn’t mean for it to end up so bad,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just let me go—”

Tears began to sting in your own eyes. “Do you know what you actually stole from me?”

Your breaths shook, along with the inner most depths of your soul. You bent closer to her ear.

“Time. That’s what you took from us,” you said, a coarse whisper. “Time we’ll never get back.”

Rachel continued to cry pitiful tears. You almost, almost started to feel bad for her.

But then, you didn’t. Too many memories were rising to the surface.

“Why’d you do it, huh? Danny Mendez wasn’t enough for you?” you said. “Oh yeah, you remember him, back in high school. You made out with my boyfriend the night of my senior prom, bitch!”

Oh yeah, that was a fun little memory to unlock from the brain bank. You realized now that it established a pattern of behavior, one you still couldn't completely understand. It hurt your heart.

“Why?” you demanded through blurry tears. “Why do you hate me so damn much?”

“Because!” she yelled. Her own tears had mixed with the shit smears on her face. Her lips wobbled. “Everyone thinks you’re so fucking perfect! Mom…Dad…he practically worshipped you.”

Your brows knitted together. “No, he didn’t. What the hell are you talking about? He rode my ass all the time! Way harder than he ever did to you.”

Your dad had been a good man, but he'd also been a fucking hardass. A former marine turned LAPD, from officer to Homicide Detective, and finally Captain. In typical firstborn syndrome fashion, you took on the brunt of his expectations, and even resented him for it at times. But you eventually saw the wisdom and the work ethic he was trying to instill in you.

Then again, it would’ve been better for everyone if he had paid closer attention to Rachel. She had been a wild child who even you had a hard time corralling. Your mom was a loving, nurturing person, but unfortunately, not much of a disciplinarian. Your father had too much on his plate at work to wrangle Rachel in as much as he’d wanted.

“Because he believed in you!” she said. “He didn’t just pick at you or criticize you or tell you what to do like you were one of his little soldiers. He talked to you like…like a person. Even…even when he was dying. He only ever asked for you, or for Mom. He never asked for me.”

You heard the resentment and immature selfishness in her voice, but you also heard the hurt. The deep kind of hurt that could make you lash out at others, just to try to mask the pain.

After a long moment of hearing her pitiful sniffles, you sighed.

“He did ask for you,” you admitted. “That day, when you and Mom went out to get coffee, and it was just me and him…I think he knew it was the end. He opened his eyes for the first time in days, and he said your name. His eyes went all around the room, like he was looking for you.”

Rachel’s body shook underneath you. Her quiet sobs of realization reached your ears.

“I called you, but you didn’t pick up. Maybe you had your phone on silent because we were in the hospital… Anyway, a few minutes later, he was gone,” you said. “But he loved you, Rachel. He just hated that he couldn’t stop you from becoming what you are. Selfish. Insecure. Immature and vindictive. A truly heinous combination.”

Rachel had long stopped fighting you. She just cried and shook like a leaf.

You jolted at a touch on your shoulder. You were surprised to find Mark, looking down at you with calm reassurance and a tinge of humor in his eyes.

“All right, sweetheart. Think she’s had enough,” he said.

Rachel gasped and craned her neck up as far as she could. Her eyes went impossibly wide, her mouth falling open in shock to see him.

Mark helped you up with one hand on your arm and another around your waist. He guided you away from your sister. Rachel pushed off the ground and scrambled shakily to her feet. She wiped at her disgusting face painted with three kinds of shit, but shame was what radiated the most when she looked up at you and Mark.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said.

It was the first time you actually believed her. You didn’t say anything, but you swallowed tightly.

Rachel shot one last glance at Lisette, who was teary herself with disappointment. Rachel grabbed her purse off the ground and retreated quickly to her car. You watched her go, releasing a deep breath and the rest of your fury.

Mark massaged the back of your neck, pressing a kiss to your temple. He felt a surge of pride well up in his chest for you. Not just for being a veritable badass and handling your business, but for still having the kind heart he knew underneath.

“You good, Rocky?” he asked with a note of teasing.

Your lips tugged reluctantly at a smile. You wondered how much he saw. How much he heard. All you knew was, you really needed to get cleaned up.

“I don’t know. I might still be a danger to myself and others,” you said, a little slyly as your gaze ran up to his. “Might even need you to restrain me.”

His brows rose, his resulting grin showing teeth. You still knew how to catch him off-guard, in the best fucking way.

“Mark, is that really you?” your mother asked from the porch.

You two had to put a little pin in your game, for now, but his green eyes were full of promise. His lips twitched upward and he squeezed your waist. Then he looked up.

“Hey, Lisette. Been a while.”

When you and Mark ventured up the steps to join her, Lisette welcomed him into a warm, warm hug. The kind that sunk into his bones and made his shoulders feel a little lighter.

She later sighed and pulled away, giving you both a raised brow.

“It looks like there’s more to the story of what happened last year,” she said.

“That there is,” Mark nodded. He shared a look with you, and with your clean hand, you rubbed his back in support. However he wanted to do this, you would back him up.

“Well, we can talk about it over dinner,” Lisette said. She opened the front door to the house, giving a small smile. “I made a pot roast.”

Mark’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, I’m excited.”

You and your mom had the same laugh, like sweet sunshine.

“You remember my pot roast?” Lisette asked.

“’Course I do. With the little potatoes, sprinkle a’ rosemary?”

Mark held the door open for you like the gentleman he was, and he shut it behind him.

AN: Sister, sister, dog shit eater. Amirite? 🤣

I have another Mark fic in this storyverse for you guys next week! I do have more ideas too (especially after watching 1x05 😭), so I plan to continue this little series as we get deeper into the season. 💜

But until then, I'd love to know what you guys think of this one! I think reader and Mark deserve a lot more "making up for lost time" moments lol. And was her confrontation with Rachel everything you wanted it to be? 😂

Next Time:

Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind. A smile began to tug at his lips on reflex. He felt your head resting against his dewy skin. Your hands inched up his chest and playfully teased with your nails. Little sexy scratch. Little kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he said. A teasing note crept into his voice, “It’s too early for you.”

“You got in late last night.” Again. He’d been pulling late hours all week. Whatever case he was on, you had a feeling it was a big one. He still wouldn’t give you any details though. Not even when he was gone for almost two days, coming back smelling like a rancid farmhouse and covered in sweat and grime.

“I want to see you,” you added softly. “Kinda the whole point of me being here.”

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