#i don't even know what the ad could be for and i refuse to click on it

[that-was-tedious]

hi yes why do tumblr ads all want me to drink olive oil? i'm so confused

[anantaru]

I HATE EVERYONE BUT YOU

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — scaramouche has always been yours, yet he needs you to know that you'll always be his no matter what— even when you get all flustered while he shows you.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — in scaramouche we what?

— ꒰ wordcount ꒱ — 1.7k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, jealous! reader, dom scara, rough sex but very passionate, scara hates everyone but you, slightly possessive scara, spitting, cumming inside of you

"you have nothing to worry about,"

"stop thinking about it and look at me," fingers gracefully trace on your bare skin, "because i need you to realize," drawing all sorts of shapes into your searing flesh, like subtle curves into your ribs, "that you'll never get rid of me," and lines dragging across your stomach when scaramouche's hand ultimately settles on your hips.

your stomach does flips at his words, and a fresh tide of relief cuts through your initial doubts. he grins and clicks his tongue, eyes dancing with amusement when he catches your shyness, "hm? what's up with you? where's this pretty voice of yours now?" and that smile, ugh, he cannot help himself but irritate you abundantly, especially when he knows how you'd react to his words.

"shut up," you hiss, "don't do that,"

"do what?" he cocks a brow, "—that?" he breathes, boldly as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles. the fire in his eyes was hard to miss and when he feels your body react to his loving trace, he's more than happy to indulge in those waves of lust— most notably show you that he'll never go away.

"fuck—" you whine, "you're mean," and you find out that his thoroughly chosen words would end up adding fuel to the looming wildfire burning between you both, the two of you high on the tension and rush smoldering the air.

and scaramouche's confessions were driving you into a spiral.

"careful there," he coos, "take it slow," for him, there was no competition, and even if there was a competition, you're not in it. you're above everything. you're perfect, no one could ever set his heart ablaze like you did.

scaramouche hums, "you're stuck with me." he candidly bites down on your bottom lip, "okay?" when you nod vigorously at him, your hips leaving the bed as your back arches into his digits, your hands finding immediate comfort in his hair as you tug softly at his roots to press his lips on yours.

scaramouche was pretty when he looked at you like that, kissed you like he needed you to survive— dreamily while flushed, his cheeks seething with scarlet redness when he inhales deeply for a moment.

but he's not used to all of this, and he didn't like the fact that you could become jealous sometimes— after all, humans suffer more in imagination rather than in reality, and you have nothing to worry about, scaramouche certainly thought he made that very much clear.

but he's embarrassed, although not because of the fact that he might've gotten too close to someone who wasn't you and experienced regret, which, in fact, wasn't possible.

he simply cannot stand anybody besides you.

truth be told, he's a little annoyed that you forgot about the fact that he wasn't a big talker per se, he even actively chose his schedule so he wouldn't see a lot of people, or anyone for that matter. scaramouche never sought out to make any meaningful friendships with the people of the akademiya as well— despite the god of wisdom helplessly attempting to push him out of his comfort zone.

with that out of the way, the real reason as to why scaramouche was embarrassed was quite silly, because it's due to what your jealousy did to him— fuck, he finds it beyond attractive, yet he refuses to acknowledge that a special heat conquered his chest like that, reaching his groin until he couldn't think straight.

there's a delicate challenge in your ways of reacting when he tells you that you mustn't be jealous, and scaramouche drinks it like water— he knows you're everything he's ever wished for, like ice cream on a hot summer day, you're melting his heart.

he nuzzles into your skin to inhale your scent, leaves soft kisses on your cheekbones while holding your jaw, making you look directly at him.

does he need to show you that he's utterly addicted to you? so, do you require it like a challenge of sorts? because archons, he'll do it, easy work easy done.

to note, it's not scaramouche's fault that people want to talk to him and are curious about the new addition to the akademiya— yet he doesn't like them, it's pestering when they get too close to him as well, ask if he could talk a little more about where he was coming from because they wanted to be nice, civil but end up making him scoff with a roll of his eyes.

enjoying his own company was fine to scaramouche— and he always found himself fantasizing about you all the time, particularly about your soft laughs and candid smiles, your voice, your stories and your understanding was like a sweet melody to the wanderer, and he could indulge in it during his breaks, before he needed to finish a mission, or he could imagine it every single night before he'd fall asleep to the thought of you.

your body was rubbing against his now, sweat colliding as he removes his fingers from your cunt and wraps them around his erection, pretty dark lashes accentuating his flaring cheekbones while you loop your arms around him— parting your legs a little so he could easily slide himself in.

scaramouche gently adds pressure on your tight hole before moving his hips, but it's slow— gentle and delicate that you can feel every crevice of his length in you.

a soft moan rips from his throat as you mold around him easily, feeling him attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of your walls as your hips twitch at the slight sting deep in your abdomen.

scaramouche was as desperate as ever to show you his love through physical attention— and the word shame didn't seem to find a place in his phraseology when he forces your gaze back under his. "open and stick your tongue out," he taps, once twice, against your lips with his thumb, "wanna taste me, right? so do it now," while keeping his throbbing dick buried inside as he purposefully moves his hips a little to make you squeal.

you cannot help the way your lips curve into a smile before you're parting your lips, applauding his efforts to claim you. it's merciless when he bundles the saliva budding in his mouth before spitting on your tongue, his crystalline eyes open to catch your tremble— how can he not indulge in this? you're nothing short of perfect, pleading for him to give you more.

"show me," he commands further, groaning deep into his chest when he looks at his saliva melting with your own and how it's dribbling from your chin, his length twitching rapidly as you try to steady your breathing at the sinful scenario you're living through.

scaramouche's hands clench at your waist as he fucks you as passionate as he can, his cock pressing against the overstimulated bud in your pussy before starting slow circles with his hips, your mouth huffing out candid i love you's amidst your moans.

inch by inch he slides into you, in and out in rapid movements, the more you take the better it felt having him rub your pleasure spots he so desperately desired to feel suck on his shaft and milk the cum out of his cock. he finds it cute when your face suddenly scrunches up if he moves faster than previous, your jaw parting in awe at how much better it felt the more he upped his tempo to batter your sore pussy.

it feels good— it always does, and if being a little jealous here and there would always result in this, than you'd gladly play your part as much as he needed it. it's almost like you don't hear yourself moaning and spell out honeyed praises, too occupied to indulge on the way scaramouche rolled along your walls and the noises of his balls colliding on your skin over and over.

"fuck— you're gonna make me cum fast," scaramouche gasps, dragging his sensitive cock through you like you're made for him, as if it just fits and he doesn't need to prep you, which he in fact, really enjoyed doing as well.

frankly, nothing tasted as good as your pussy rubbing across his mouth.

one hand leaves your hips before he gives your clit a little attention, pressing through the curtains that protected your sensitive pearl as he rubs your slick over the sensitivity, smirking devilishly when you arch your back off the mattress and begin to shake, your walls spasming while being so perfect when milking his cock, your pussy dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.

you cry out a sound between a broken sob and sharp moan of his name and that's when scaramouche knows you're close too— swift when he drags his hand from your clit to intertwine his digits with your own as he fucked you into the bed, your pussy pulsing around him as your eyes scrunch shut when you reach your high, falling slack against the bed and whining out shortly when he warms you with the weight of his body.

"fuck— shit!," his hips faster, his breath quicker, "you're fuckin mine, mine, mine," scaramouche falls apart,  panting against your ear and groaning lowly, his erection pulsing while constricted by your walls as he holds his cock deeply buried in you before thrusting back and forth once, twice, three more times as he spills his load into your pussy— his warm seed setting your belly on fire by how perfect it felt to be claimed in such lewd, passionate way.

"fuck," he breathes, "gonna stay like that for a bit,"

archons, it's so sticky— borderline filthy and shameless with every intention of it being like that. your tits were still bouncing up and down from the following, last thrusts of him pumping his precious cum into your hole and making sure not a single drop gets lost midway.

after a while of collecting your breathing and turning it evenly again, you giggle out, finding his darkened hair strands as you greet him with a wet, sloppy kiss, "wanna join me for a shower later?" you mumble, eyes half-lidded as he hums softly into your lips, "mhm, or i'll decline so you'll get mad at me, right?"

"i will bite you," you threaten, shaking slightly as he pulls himself out without warning to expose his drenched cock being weaved with your slick, the filthy mixture dripping along your inner thighs,

"please do, "i'm counting on it," scaramouche ends with a wink.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[churipu]

hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^

BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !

featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).

note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!

NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.

for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.

"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.

nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.

"i need to get this done, wait a moment."

that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"

"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."

you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."

at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."

you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.

arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.

the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.

he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).

and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.

the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.

he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.

he could finally sleep.

with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.

"y/n?"

upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"

nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.

the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."

nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."

like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!

CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.

god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.

"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.

first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.

but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.

it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.

"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.

his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."

choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.

"cho, say something."

choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."

for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).

but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.

"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."

okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.

he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."

being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.

"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."

megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."

megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.

poor boy just needed a break.

"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."

"...i do."

argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[lucyrose191]

I don't know if you're accepting writing requests, but I thought about it just now.

I don't know if you know that people are talking about Sebastian's “possible return” in 2025 with Mercedes. So I thought you could write part 3 of "a shared story"? Sort of like if the two of them came back, their son appeared. Anyway, it's up to you to write, that's all that came to mind.

A SHARED HISTORY: THE RETURN| S.VETTEL

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader

Summary; With the news of Lewis moving to Ferrari in 2025, the formula one world is in chaos and Mercedes is left to find a driver, why not ask their for their best to return?

Warnings; Lewis is perceived as a bit of a dick.

F1 Master List , Part 1, Part 2

When something was a constant in your life for so long it was hard to part with the routines that came with it which is why Y/N found herself in her and Seb’s home gym at five in the morning even over a year after retiring and only a few months after having a baby.

It was working well in her favour though because with the addition of the working out she did during her pregnancy she pretty much had her body back the way it was pre-baby.

She was scrolling through her phone to try and find a song to start her workout with when she got a notification from her f1 app and her face dropped as she clicked on it.

LEWIS HAMILTON TO JOIN FERRARI IN 2025

The message filled her screen as she simply stared in shock.

Workout forgotten, Y/N turned around and ran up the stairs. "Seb."

She jumped on their bed and aggressively shook him, "Sebastian, wake up!" She whisper shouted, not wanting to wake the baby. "Sebastian!"

He turned his head over to look up at her with half-closed eyes, "what time is it?" He muttered.

"Who cares? Lewis is moving to Ferrari."

That woke him right up, he pulled the top half of his body into a sitting position and forced his eyes fully open, looking at Y/N in disbelief. "What?"

"It’s everywhere, he’s driving for them in 2025."

Seb continued to look at her in shock, "Is he okay? How could he be so stupid?"

His words struck something within Y/N, knowing how rough her husbands time at Ferrari had been, how she had watched his demeanour shrink throughout the years he spent there, how guilty she felt winning near enough every race whilst the love of her life felt like he was getting nowhere.

It also caused her to think about Lewis himself and the things he had said about his team last season, as though Mercedes hadn’t made him who he was and now he was leaving after one particularly rough season. "Apparently he only told the team two days ago," she muttered.

"No," Seb uttered, not believing that Lewis would tell the team only two days before the entire world knew. "Poor Carlos," he added, knowing how Ferrari treated their drivers when they had found a replacement for them.

"You’d think Lewis wouldn’t have taken that seat considering he knows how toxic that environment is, I hope he doesn’t think he’ll be number one driver just because of his experience," Y/N thought aloud.

"He’ll be very disappointed if that’s what he does think," Seb scoffed, the resentment he felt towards Ferrari breaking through, it was hard not to with not only the way they treated him but the way the fans did too. Their refusal to accept that he was in fact not the problem but it’s in fact the poor communication and leadership within the team.

"I think I’ll ring Toto later, it’s four am in England right now, I doubt he’d be impressed if I rang him now." Y/N smirked.

Sebastian smiled "He’ll probably be up with the news being released."

Y/N hummed in agreement before reaching up to push Seb’s hair back from his forehead, "I’m going to go start this workout before Ansel wakes up, you can go back to sleep, sorry for waking you," she leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

"It’s okay, liebe." Sebastian laid back down and watched Y/N walk out the their bedroom, there was no chance he was going back to sleep now that she’d woken him up but she didn’t have to know that.

Later in the day.

"Hi, baby!" Y/N cooed to her son who she held in up in the air, loving the loud uncontrollable giggles that he let out. In the past two and a half months he hasn’t lost those beautiful blonde curls he got from Sebastian, bright white coils sprouted in every direction and with his bright blue eyes, baby Ansel would no doubt be a heartbreaker when he was older.

She laid him back down on the floor and tickled his belly, enticing another round of laughter to burst from him. "God I love you so much, you’re so cute."

"Liebe?" Seb walked into the living room with her phone in his hand.

"Yeah, who is it?" Y/N paused her tickling and allowed Ansel to catch his breath.

"Toto," her brows shot up in surprise at Sebastian’s response, she didn’t have to give him a call after all. "I’ll watch him whilst you speak to him," Seb handed her the phone before picking Ansel up from the floor with an over dramatic grunt and leaving the room.

Y/N places the phone against her ear, "Hello?"

"Y/N! Hi, how are you doing?" Toto’s thick Austrian accent sounded through the phone.

"I’m doing amazing, I’d ask you the same question but I’ve seen the news and I can’t imagine you’re doing great," she sympathised.

"It’s been chaotic to say the least," Toto replied honestly, "I only found out two days ago and I was surprised if I’m being honest."

"He only told you two days ago as well?" Y/N was surprised. "I saw that he told the team two days ago but I thought he would’ve told you sooner."

"I thought he would have too but he didn’t, I’m going to be straight with you, Y/N, I am calling for a particular reason."

Y/N stared at the blank wall in front of her, curious as to what he might’ve called for. "Go on…"

"Have you done much training or simulator work since retiring?" Toto asked absentmindedly.

His question shocked her into silence for a moment before replying. "I trained all throughout my pregnancy and I’ve still been training, I’ve cut back on the neck training but other than that it’s remained the same really and I’ve done a bit of simulator work but not much, I haven’t really found the time to keep that up."

"I understand, you’ve probably been very busy with a newborn, it can be hard," Toto said understandingly.

"I think we’ve been lucky to be honest, Ansel’s quite calm."

"I’m going to be blunt here," Toto told her, "what do you think of becoming a seven time world champion?"

Y/N froze completely at his question.

She knew what he was asking but she just couldn’t allow that idea to simmer in her mind, not when it had taken her so long to become content without racing in her life. "I have a son to take off."

"I know," Toto responded, "and I would never ask you to give that up, I understand completely how he is your number one priority, you have a family to take care of and I don’t expect you to put racing above your family but Y/N, you are the best driver Mercedes has ever had and I don’t believe you’ve accomplished everything you could."

"That’s a very big ask, Toto," Y/N released a heavy breath.

"It’s for 2025, you can sit on it until half way through the season but I can promise you if you agree, it will be a championship winning car." The confidence in Toto’s voice was impossible to miss.

"You’ve already started designing it, haven’t you?" She mused.

"Yes, we aren’t taking any chances of losing in 2025, we want you back Y/N, we didn’t want you to leave in the first place. George is a great driver but he’s only been with us one season and he is not number 1 driver ready yet."

"I’ll think about it but I am not promising anything," she iterated, wanting him to acknowledge that the chances of her returning were very very slim.

"I’m glad you’re at least considering it, take as long as you need," Toto repeated his earlier words and Y/N ensured she would be taking all of the time she was given before they bid their goodbyes.

As the call ended, Y/N felt a heavy wait in her chest, the idea of returning to formula one hadn’t even crossed her mind because she never thought the opportunity would even arise and her and Seb were making their family, the family they always wanted.

She pushed the idea out of her mind and pulled herself up from the floor, she walked into the kitchen and began looking through the fridge for ideas on what to make her and Seb for lunch.

"What did he want?"

Y/N jumped and snapped her head to the doorway where Seb was stood, holding a sleeping Ansel against his chest. He frowned at her reaction because she wasn’t one to be easily frightened.

"Uhm," Y/N cleared her throat and closed the fridge. "He was just asking how we were and telling me about the whole Lewis situation, the parts the media didn’t know."

Her response set off alarm bells in Sebastian’s mind that made him thing there was something else, something she hadn’t been anticipating. "Anything else?" He asked,

Y/N swallowed and looked down at the floor, she could never lie to him about anything but especially not something this big. "He, uhm, he asked me to come back. He wants me to drive for Mercedes again."

Sebastian’s hands subconsciously tightened around Ansel’s body at the news, he stood frozen in the doorway with a blank face as he processed what that could mean. "Wow," it was the only word that expressed what he was feeling right now.

Y/N scoffed out a laugh and nodded. "Yeah."

The lost look on her face tugged at Seb’s heart and he stepped across the threshold into the kitchen and walked closer to her. "Would you want to?" He asked in an almost whisper.

Y/N shrugged weakly. "I have no idea," she replied honestly. "When I retired, I felt lost and I thought that feeling would never leave and I convinced myself I had made the worst mistake I could ever make. I had everything, I was still at the height of my career and to suddenly not be racing anymore…. It was hard, you know that, but then Ansel was born and this new life we have made it all worth it to me. I accepted I wouldn’t be going back but now Toto is literally holding out that seat in the palm of his hand and i don’t know what to do."

Sebastian adjusted Ansel so he was holding him in one arm and wrapped the other around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into his body. She rested her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around her boys, smiling as Seb pressed a kiss to her head. "How long do you have before you need to make a decision?" He asked.

"Until about halfway through the season, I told him I’d probably need every bit of that time," Y/N muttered before looking up at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

Sebastian smirked, "you just did," he teased causing her to roll her eyes. "Go on." He added seriously this time.

"Would you be okay with it if I did say yes? I’m not saying I want to but I definitely wouldn’t if you want things to stay how they are, without all of the travelling."

It was one of the things that truly made their marriage work, they both understood that it was in fact a partnership and would never agree to something that the other person wasn’t a hundred percent on board with.

He thought about her question for a moment before answering. "I didn’t retire because of the travelling, I retired because I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. I wasn’t meant to be a midfield or back of the field driver and that’s the only place I ended up. If you find that you do want to return then Ansel and I will follow you."

The two of them left the conversation there, not speaking of it anymore for the next couple of weeks as Y/N didn’t want to stress herself with feeling the need to make a decision as quick as possible.

February 2024

"OH FUCK OFF!" Y/N groaned loudly the minute she saw Danica Patrick appear on the screen.

Sebastian tilted his head back against the sofa and laughed at her reaction.

They weren’t even half way through the first episode before she showed up onto the screen and YN wasn’t impressed to say the least. "Why the fuck is she here?"

"She wants to tell everyone what the mindset of an f1 driver is like," Sebastian teased and YN scoffed.

"Oh yes please, let this woman who knows nothing about f1 tell me how I felt when I was in that car for fifteen years. I mean, if they want a woman, ask Susie!"

"I doubt she’d say yes after last year." Sebastian snorted.

"Yeah, that’s true," YN agreed, reaching for the remote to skip until Danica was no longer on the screen.

2nd March 2024

In case Y/N did choose to return to formula one in 2025 she had returned to her full training and diet so that she would have as much preparation as possible which was why the coffee table was filled with healthy snacks, much to Seb’s dismay, as the pair of them snuggled up on the sofa with a now four month old Ansel between them, ready to watch the first race of the season.

The entire weekend her eyes hadn’t left the W15, it hadn’t surprised her that they had incorporated part of the iconic silver design that Mercedes was famous for since it was Lewis’ last season. She had watched the launch of the car and it felt awkward for her, knowing that Lewis was leaving made it feel tense but that could’ve just been her imagination.

The RedBull was a rocket which wasn’t surprising after their success last season, she doubted they had changed much, they hadn’t needed to but what was fascinating was how the W15 didn’t seem so bad in comparison, George was driving that car as if they were one.

Now being able to see the improvement from last year, the confidence she heard in Toto’s voice for next year made sense to her. She believed him in his promise that next years car would be capable of earning her a seventh title and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t now tempted.

"It’s looking good," Sebastian commented lightly, subtly side eying her.

"Yeah it is," She replied, her eyes not leaving the tv screen as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

A month later

Sebastian apprehensively walked into the living room, smiling at the sight of Y/N lying on the sofa with Ansel asleep against her chest, her hands resting on his back protectively.

She looked up at the sound of his light footsteps and smiled before noticing the wary expression on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Sebastian swallowed thickly. "You’re not going to believe this…."

Y/N rose a challenging brow, "yeah? Try me."

"Christian just called."

"Horner?"

Sebastian nodded, walking over and sitting on the sofa by Y/N’s feet. "He isn’t resigning Perez next year, he’s offered me a seat."

If it wasn’t for the seriousness of the conversation, the look of shock on Y/N’s face would’ve been laughable. "Seriously!?"

Sebastian nodded and Y/N let out a small laugh, "Wow," she whispered. "Do you want it?"

"I don’t know," he replied honestly. "I understand the pressure you feel under now, to make a decision. I asked if I could think it through, I also have till mid season to give an answer."

His words caused her to smile as a memory flickered through her mind.

"Seb and I entered formula one together and it feels right to leave it together too, it's great knowing that we quite literally went through the entire thing with each other"

The pair of them had never driven in formula one without the other, if they both returned then that connection between the two of them would remain too. It was a beautiful connection that meant a lot to Y/N for a reason she couldn’t really think of.

She didn’t want to lose that.

That one flicker of a memory had solidified her decision in a mere second.

"If you were in that RedBull would it return your drive and passion for racing?" She asked softly.

Seb set his eyes on his sleeping son for a moment as he thought about her question before returning his gaze to hers. "I think it would."

"Would it ignite a hunger for a fifth title?"

"Yes," Sebastian answered immediately and Y/N smiled.

RedBull was an important part of their careers, it was where she had started out and won her first title and it was where Seb had achieved all of his records and titles.

"I think you have your answer, Seb. You just haven’t convinced yourself it’s real."

Three months later, Austria 🇦🇹 (30th June 2024)

Sebastian and Y/N walked through the Spielberg paddock, a seven month old Ansel was attached to Sebastian’s chest in a baby carrier, his face covered from the cameras with a hat.

They waved to the fans as they walked by but didn’t stop to speak or take photos because they had places to be, they entered the pits and walked past eight team garages, parting once they reached the Mercedes garage, Sebastian continued towards RedBull.

Toto Wolff, the man she was looking for, was standing in the entrance and seemingly waiting for her.

Y/N walked up to him with a cheeky smile on her face and stood beside him in silence, the pair of them looking inside of the garage to where the mechanics were working on the car.

"You weren’t lying to me," she eventually spoke, keeping her voice quiet from prying ears.

Toto looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, not understanding what she meant.

"The car," she explained. "It’s going to be worthy of a title, isn’t it?"

She wasn’t talking about the car in front of her, she was talking about the W16, the one that hadn’t been built yet.

"Yes," he responded surely.

"Okay," she nodded, only now removing her eyes from the car to look him in the eyes. "Well, I want to look over your numbers and speak to the designers because I will not be driving a car that looks like a four year old picked it out and I get to choose how the news is released."

She watched as the realisation slowly took over his features, the shock that riddled his face would forever be ingrained into her mind. "Seriously?" He asked, voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope.

"Unless you’ve found someone else?" She asked teasingly, knowing he most certainly hadn’t and even if he had, he wanted her more.

Toto quickly shook his head as a smile grew on his face, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist, lifting her feet from the floor as he took her into a bear hug, the pair of them laughed as he spun her round once in utter joy before setting her back down.

No doubt the media would soon be filled with suspicions and theories about what their conversation had been about and what she had said that had caused Toto’s overly happy reaction.

Just over a month later (beginning of August 2024)

With both Sebastian and YN now giving Toto and Christian the verbal agreement that they would drive for Mercedes and RedBull in 2025, it caused for both them and Ansel to make the move back to their property in England.

The summer break had now begun so it was the perfect time for them to sign their contracts and go through all of the necessary things to get prepared for next season and to get back into the swing of things.

This included deciding on when to announce the information of their return.

Both Sebastian and Y/N had given Christian and Toto the conditions that they wanted the news of their return to be together which meant a combined photoshoot and social media post from both Mercedes and RedBull teams.

It also meant that the two team principals and their heads of social media needed to work together to come to a compromise that everyone was happy with for the release.

They weren’t very happy having to work so close together but both were eager for their star drivers back that they pushed through.

It also meant that both teams were holding a shared secret about the other team.

As of right now the only people that knew Sebastian and Y/N Vettel were returning to Formula One were Christian, Toto and each teams head of social media, and family of course.

As neither team principal wanted to step into enemy territory, it left the announcement photoshoot to happen in the Vettel household.

The pair of them were stood in their living room in front of a black backdrop with their race suits on and since they didn’t have their 2025 helmets yet, they used the helmets they retired with.

Both their visors were up as they rested their foreheads against each other and stared into each other’s eyes with serious looks on their faces, preparing to show to the world that they were back and they weren’t playing around.

"Just cause you have your good luck charm back doesn’t mean you’ll be able to catch up to us."

Y/N and Seb rolled their eyes simultaneously,

"You’ve gotten very cocky after a short lucky streak, get to seven in a row and then we’ll start talking." Toto didn’t hesitate in replying.

"How about instead of comparing cock sizes, you two can figure out a date that we launch this news because you still haven’t came to an agreement." Y/N smiled sarcastically causing Sebastian to laugh at the way they promptly shut up.

"Great. If I have to listen to you two go at it next year then I will whip both your arses, got it?"

The two team principles nodded at her words so she turned back to Sebastian, who was looking at her in amusement, so that they could continue with the photos.

November 2024

It was Ansel’s first birthday today and you and Seb were refusing anything formula one today, the entire day was for your son and you both would give him every bit of your attention.

You and Seb were still 100% serious that he came above everything else and you both would remain stern on that, both Christian and Toto understood that yours and Sebastian’s conditions were that your son came first and that was the only reason you agreed to return.

Ansel didn’t at all understand the purpose of a birthday or opening presents so it left you and Seb to open his gifts but he did have the time of his life playing with all of his new toys.

Y/N still couldn’t believe this was her life. Sebastian and Ansel were her everything and to think if Christian Horner out of all people hadn’t taken a chance on her that she wouldn’t be where she is now is crazy and now she had been given the opportunity to return to the sport that had young drivers lining up to be a part of, she knew how lucky she was and she would never take it for granted.

December 2024, Abu Dhabi

If there was one thing that Christian and Toto had in common it was their flare for dramatics, both wished for the news of the Vettel’s returning to take the world by storm and so they were announcing it the day of the last race of the season which was in two days.

Barely any of the team even knew, George now did which he was thrilled about but Toto didn’t want to tell Lewis the news, Y/N thought he was feeling a bit petty and still a bit hurt from how long it took Lewis to tell him about him moving to Ferrari and just wanted to maybe get one up on the driver.

In the meantime, Y/N was going to take George’s car out for a couple of laps today before free practice and none of the team knew it yet but that was about to change.

The garage privacy barriers were up as the team watched in shock and building excitement as Y/N got into George’s car. She smiled as an immediate feeling of content mixed with anticipation built within her, her body knowing this is exactly where she belonged.

She had her 2022 helmet on so if anyone looked carefully they would definitely know that it was not George inside the car.

"Can you hear me, Marcus?"

"I can hear you loud and clear, Y/N. It’s good to have you back."

"Let’s do this then." She put a thumbs up towards one of the team members to move the barriers, gave a nod to Toto who was watching her with a blank expression on his face, (she thought he might be worried that she’d change her mind after giving this apparent shit box a drive) before she pressed down on the accelerator and left the garage.

Leaving the pits, Y/N grinned as best as she could beneath her helmet as she pressed down further on the throttle, smoothing through the gears as she increased her speed.

As she got onto the straight after turn 5, she heard Marcus in her ear. "How are you feeling, Y/N?"

"Great! Just like riding a bike." She replied, the tone of her voice making it clear that she had a large smile on her face.

"Nice to know you’ve still got it, we never doubted you for a second." Marcus told her before cutting the connection.

Up in the commentary box where David Croft and Martin Brundle were setting up for the weekend, they both looked out onto the track in confusion at the sight of the Mercedes, they hooked up their microphones before speaking.

"And that’s the Mercedes of George Russel on the track, free practise hasn’t started yet so I’m not sure if they’re allowed to be doing that…." Crofty’s voice sounded through the track speakers.

"That Mercedes seems to be driving better than it has all season, they haven’t put any updates on for the final race, have they? Is that even allowed?" Martin Brundle continued.

"Let’s see, are we able to take a closer look at that?" Crofty asked, followed by the screens on the grandstand zooming in on the car as it drove on the track. "…..that is not George Russell’s helmet…."

"Isn’t it? Who’s driving his car?" Martin questioned.

"I’m not sure, I’m also not sure this is actually allowed."

"I don’t think Mercedes actually care at this point- sorry, I’ll rephrase that actually. I don’t think Toto Wolff even cares what is allowed at this point."

"Okay, Y/N, if you could bring it into the pits now, we’re going to keep you in the car until the barriers are back up." Marcus instructed.

"Copy," Y/N replied.

The mechanics wheeled her into the garage and put the shutters down so that no one could see inside as she got out of the car.

As soon as her feet hit the ground she was embraced with pats on the back by happy team members.

George approached her with a smile on his face and was shaking his head at her. "I’m not sure how I feel about this anymore, you’d have managed to put that shit box on the second row with that second lap time." His tone made it clear that he was just joking and he was actually more than looking forward to have her as a team mate.

"I’ve still got it then, that’s good."

"It’s great," Toto’s voice from behind her made her jump and then around. "You think we should tell the team?"

"Now?" Y/N asked in surprise and Toto nodded, gesturing that she could do the honours.

Y/N gave him a toothy smile before stepping forward and climbing on top of George’s car, standing just in front of the halo, drawing the attention of everyone in the garage.

"Hey everyone! I know this season has been quite rough on you all, not just with the lack of results the team is used to but also with the fact that we all know Lewis has made the decision to leave Mercedes and join Ferrari which was as much of a surprise to me as I’m sure it was to you guys and it’s honestly been hard for me to see a lot of you feel a bit lost as to how the team can make a comeback and be on top but I do hope that next year you’ll all be able to see just how great Mercedes is and to hopefully regain that hunger because I know I’m hungry for a seventh title and I have every bit of faith that this team can help me achieve that when I come back and drive for you next year…."

The garage filled with a series of gasps followed by cheers that would definitely be heard from outside.

"…this is a finalised decision, Toto and I have been speaking all year and we’ve both signed the contract and I do hope you’re happy to have me back."

The team clapped and the garage was filled with whistles and cheers again as she finished and climbed down from the car.

"The news is going to be released Sunday morning so if you could all keep it on the down low until then it would be greatly appreciated!" She finalised before turning to Toto and George with a raised eyebrow. "There you go, no turning back now."

And for the rest of the weekend, the entire paddock could see the change in the Mercedes team, it seemed every member had a spring in their step as they walked through the track and they all seemed to have a permanent smile on their faces.

When asked about it they all seemed to give generic answers like ‘they were just happy to be here’ but no one believed it, not even Lewis who was left in the dark and when he asked about it he just got the same response.

But as Sunday morning came, both Mercedes and RedBull was filled with anticipation as the news of the Vettel’s return to the sport was shared across four Instagram accounts; RedBull, Mercedes, Y/N’s and Sebastian’s.

The world was taken by storm that morning, not only by the news of the return but also the fact that both teams had seemingly worked together to keep it under wraps.

Seb, Y/N, Christian and Toto entered the track together that morning and were bombarded with cameras and questions making both Vettel’s glad they had left Ansel at the hotel with Fabian who was going to bring him later in the day.

"Seb! Y/N! When did you decide to rejoin formula 1?"

"Christian, did you boot Perez before signing Sebastian or did tell him you were terminating his contract after you had already asked Sebastian to return?"

"Toto, did you ask Y/N to come back to get back at Lewis for leaving Mercedes?"

"Lewis said he had no idea of Y/N taking his seat, is there a reason you told the team but kept him in the dark?"

The four ignored the questions and continued their way into the track, not batting an eye at the other teams who watched as they walked by, astounded to see the four of them together.

"Feels good, doesn’t it? Success…." Christian smirked arrogantly causing Y/N, Seb and Toto to roll their eyes.

"I’d even go as far as saying we make a good team, us four." Toto added and Y/N scoffed.

"Please, this would’ve been a complete disaster had Seb and I not mediated the last year. The pair of you are a ticking time bomb."

Both team principals sent her affronted looks at her words which she ignored, once they reached the Mercedes garage, Seb leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple. "I’ll come and get you later before the race and we’ll watch it together."

Y/N nodded with a smile and bid him goodbye.

Both her and Toto walked into the Mercedes garage and were met with whoops and cheers from the team causing her to laugh at their dramatics but she soon stopped at the sight of Lewis.

He was approaching her and he looked quite disgruntled.

"Both of you returning?" He asked.

Y/N shrugged. "Toto asked me and then Christian asked Seb a month later, it was purely a coincidence."

He didn’t look like he believed her but it didn’t bother her too much. "I thought it would’ve been off the cards now that you have a child."

Y/N looked at him in confusion. She thought it was a bit rude that he was bringing her son into a conversation that they were clearing having because he felt left out of the news.

"I wouldn’t have returned if Seb didn’t get approached by Christian, we’ve always been in F1 together and as soon as he was offered I knew that I wanted to come back."

"When was this?"

"I got asked in January, after your move was confirmed." Y/N replied honestly.

"You’ve kept that under wraps for a while then." He said in a tone that could only be described as bitter.

"Because we weren’t sure that we were actually going to return. It was a shock to us as well but it felt right and so we accepted. Toto and Christian agreed to wait until closer to the end of the season for the release so that the press would focus on this season and not next."

Which in her opinion is what he should’ve done.

"The team already knew." He stated.

Y/N nodded. "I told them on Friday that I would be driving for them, it’s really upped their motivation for 2025."

"Why didn’t I know?" He eventually just came out and asked.

Y/N looked at him strangely. "Because you chose to leave the team, Lewis. After today, you have to accept that Mercedes is no longer your team and whatever concerns them is no longer your business either. The teams plans for 2025 have no impact on you whatsoever."

Lewis bit his lip and nodded before walking away, nothing else to say.

Y/N watched after him for a moment. They had been teammates for eight years and had an amazing friendship through that but for some reason she had a feeling that was about to end since she was driving for Mercedes.

Had he really thought Toto wasn’t going to find a driver to replace him?

Just before the race.

Seb and Y/N were standing between the first two rows on the grid so they could be nearby Max and George as they got ready as Martin Brundle approached them for his grid walk.

"Sebastian! Y/N! Could I have a quick word?"

"Go on then," Y/N nodded.

"So, you’ve surprised us all this morning by announcing that you’ll both be returning next season, Sebastian you’re going to RedBull and Y/N you’re returning to Mercedes. We want to know something, anything about the process cause nobody was expecting this."

Sebastian smiled. "It’s nothing exciting. After the news of Lewis going to Ferrari, Toto wondered if there was a chance for Y/N to return and then about a month later Christian also called and asked me if I would be willing to come back."

Martin nodded before turning to Y/N. "After Mercedes’ rough two year since you left, do you think they’ll be able to get back on top next year."

Y/N smirked. "I wouldn’t be returning if there wasn’t a chance for me to become a seven time world champion, Martin."

He seemed to be delighted by the news and nodded, thanking the two of them before walking away to hopefully find some of the drivers.

Sebastian wrapped his arm around Y/N as they started walking back towards the garages. "Where do you want to watch it from?"

Y/N thought for a moment. "We’ll watch it from RedBull."

2025

"Okay, state your name, occupation and your team." The woman behind the camera instructed.

Y/N smiled at the camera and began speaking. "I’m Y/N Vettel and I’m a Formula One driver for Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One team."

She then leaned forward and stared directly into the lens. "I’M BACCKKKKKK!"

Bahrain. 🇧🇭

"Okay, Y/N, are you ready to become a seven time world champion?" Bono asked over the radio.

"You bet I am." She replied confidentially.

"Are you going to become a five time world champion, sunshine?" Hugh asked Sebastian, using the nickname from when Seb won his first all those years ago.

Seb smiled. "That depends on how nice Y/N is feeling."

Y/N kept her gaze on the lights as each one appeared and as soon as they disappeared she let up off the break and slammed her foot down onto the accelerator, both her and Seb driving along side each other as they approached the first corner.

2025 was certainly going to be an interesting season.

[sinsirellaxx]

Unwanted Bride PT. 2

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: badly written smut (honestly), dub-con, Daemon

A/N: My first time writing real smut – honestly, this was so hard! Also not proofread – because I don't think I can reread this.

You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as your husband refused the bedding ceremony – you were a shy little thing and Daemon could see right through your attitude. Your whole body had shuddered when he his hand had gripped your hips too tightly while dancing, your cheeks flushing a deep red unable to hold his gaze for longer than a fleeting moment. You were definitely a timid little bird, and he wouldn’t want to put you through the barbaric ritual of people touching you inappropriately. He was going to put you through a lot himself after all.

Daemon stood up from his seat, your eyes glued to his tall figure, swallowing dryly at his intimidating height. You weren’t naïve, you knew what was awaiting you. He could see it in your eyes, the panic and insecurity. Who knows what your friends and family had told you about him or about consummation. Had they even informed you about what to do or what to expect?

Reaching out his hand towards you, the Targaryen prince waited patiently for you to take his hand, his signature grin on his face. Hesitantly you reached out, your fingers surprisingly cold as they softly curled around his hand. Daemon bit back a smirk, he enjoyed watching you fidget and grow more and more insecure as the night wore on – the moment you would become a woman and leave behind the innocence you still possessed growing closer. Gripping your hand tightly he pulled you up and away from the table, not wasting any more time as he pulled you along with him. You let yourself be dragged away with a small gasp, your free hand clumsily moving to bundle your skirts to not trip over the several layers.

As Daemon led you away from the table, he couldn't shake the sense of anticipation that coursed through his veins. There was something exhilarating about having you at his side, something that stirred a primal desire deep within him.

He could feel the weight of your hand in his, the slight tremble of your fingers sending a shiver down his spine. Despite your attempts to conceal your nerves, he could sense the panic and insecurity lurking you felt, and it only served to fuel his own excitement.

With each step you took, Daemon felt a sense of power and control wash over him, a feeling that he relished in as he led you through the crowded hall. It was intoxicating, the way you stumbled along beside him, your skirts billowing around you as you struggled to keep pace with his long strides.

As he glanced down at you, a surge of possessiveness and the need to corrupt swelled within him. You were his now, his to mold and shape as he pleased – a mere sheep waiting to be devoured by a dragon. Poor thing.

Daemon paused in front of the door to your shared chambers, his gaze flickering over your features with a mixture of desire and curiosity. The dim candlelight cast shadows across your face, accentuating the delicate curve of your jaw and the softness of your lips.  You didn’t lift your head. You didn’t meet his eyes. You were lost in your thoughts and the troubled look on your face further added to his amusement.

Without wasting another second, Daemon pushed the door open, ushering you inside with his hand on your back – a gentle yet commanding gesture.

As you entered the room with bated breath, the atmosphere shifted, the tension in the room palpable. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation, the sound of your breathing the only thing that broke the silence, your breath hitching when you heard the door close – the click of the latch echoing in the quiet room. Your back was still turned to Daemon. You stood helplessly in the middle of the huge room, your head turning to take in your environment as your hands fiddled with your skirt. Daemon smirked as he walked closer to you, the sound of him approaching caused you to flinch and tense up.

There was no going back now. You were alone.

The tall prince stopped right behind you, his chest touching your back. With the way you trembled and tensed up he felt like a predator. The thought shot a wave of arousal straight to his groin. He’d enjoy playing with her.

His warm breath hit the back of her neck – her bare skin breaking out into goosebumps at the close proximity.

“Are you scared, ābrazȳrys?” He murmured against your shoulder, his lips softly ghosting over your skin until he finally presses a lingering kiss there. A shudder ran over your body.

His hands moved to grasp your hips, his lips ghosting over the expanse of your skin until he reached your ear, “I hope you are not too tired, riñītsos. The night is still young.” Daemon whispered hotly before playfully nibbling on your ear.

“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled, his hands moving to unlace the back of your dress with trained fingers, briefly pausing to look for any reaction before he pushed the top of your dress, down, down and down. With every inch of naked skin revealed he could feel you tense up under his ministrations.

How innocent.

Daemon was about to taunt you when the wedding gown finally pooled at your feet, your whole bare body in front of him. With no undergarments except for the barely-there-lingerie made out of pearls and gemstones, hugging your waist and your thighs. The prince’s breath hitched, surprised by the erotic sight in front of him. He had been to many brothels, had been with many lovers – but he had never seen anything like this.

“Fuck.” Daemon chuckled darkly, “My naughty, little wife.”, pulling you into his chest by your hips before his rough hands start roaming your body. You gasped at his possessive and eager touch, his lips back on your neck as his hands groped at your untouched breasts – moaning when he pinched a nipple. “How responsive, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

Arching your back against his chest, your bottom pressed against his crotch, drawing a low groan from your husband. You felt your face heat with shame. Ashamed for the noises that the prince forced out of you. Ashamed for the way your body reacted to his aggressive touch. You were overwhelmed – not sure what you had expected, because you had heard so much about the promiscuous lifestyle of the Rogue Prince.

Wrapping his strong arms around your middle he lifted you up, drawing a surprised yelp from your lips. With a few long steps he walked up to the bed and threw you on it. You landed on your stomach with a groan, your plush bottom jiggling from the impact and before you could gather yourself or think about the daring position you were in his hands were on your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly, drawing another yelp from you. “W-What are you doing?”

Daemon leaned his forehead against your lower back, his lips ghosting over the plump flesh before biting into it sharply.

“What beautiful ass you have, dear wife.” He groaned, his tongue jutting out to lick over the reddened skin, the pained shriek he pulled from you went straight to his cock. “I’m going to ruin you, riñītsos.”

He briefly stood up from the bed, his hands moving to untie his breeches before pulling his tunic over his head – his eyes never left your body. His lips pulled up into a smirk when you pulled your body up, trying to crawl to the head of the bed and away from him.

“Now where do you think you are going, little bird?” His right hand shot out to wrap around your right ankle, pulling you towards him with a swift movement. He immediately climbed on top of you, his groin pressing into your ass as he leaned his upper body on your back. With a hand, he moved your long hair to one side of your shoulders, his lip latching onto your neck with the intent to mark you as his. “Don’t be scared, riñītsos.” He whispered in your ear before continuing his ministrations on your neck. “You’re mine from now on. Ñuhon. And I take good care of what is mine.”

His hands were back on your hips, gripping and groping before his right hand moved lower. “Why don’t you spread your legs for me?”

Daemon knew you wouldn’t comply – you were still too overwhelmed by the situation – by his aggression. You probably had expected him to be more patient with you – maybe even be disinterested. Yet how could he be? Your body would even weaken the knees of any celibate monk – seduction incarnate. Who was he to withstand seduction?

When you didn’t move your legs and only whimpered into the pillow, he took it into his own hands. Wedging both his legs between your closed thighs he forced them wide open.

“There is no reason to be bashful, ābrazȳrs. Your body belongs to me by law – you belong to me by law.” He tutted when your muscles tensed, your face pressed into the pillow as you desperately tried to distance yourself from the situation.

Daemon did not waste more time before his fingers moved between your lower lips, spreading them apart before slightly dipping into your tight hole with his ring finger. “You’re already so wet – like a wanton whore.” He hotly breathed against your ear. “You can try to hide all you want but your body can’t.” Applying more pressure, he slowly pushed his middle finger in – your walls immediately clamping down on him, trying to push him out again.

“It hurts …” Your eyes burned from the weird burning sensation. At first you found it barbaric that he wanted to take you from behind during your first time – you had always imagined your wedding night to be more intimate – but now you were glad he couldn’t see your face.

“Fuck,” He murmured, his cock twitching in anticipation. You were so tight. His impatience was wearing thing. He quickly started moving his finger, trying to get you to loosen up a bit. Yet Daemon was not known for being patient, as another finger quickly followed the first one, the action drawing a hiss from you.

“Shh … you’re doing well.” He peppered kisses onto your back, hoping the gesture would be soothing.  Pulling out his fingers, he lifted your hips off the bed with his hands, his chest still glued to your back. “Don’t worry, I’ll be slow.” Daemon whispered, kissing your head while one of his hands wrapped around his already erect member. Lining up with your reddened hole, he slid the head of his cock through your slit a few times – gathering the moisture before slowly applying pressure against your hole.

Your breath hitched at the blinding pain, your mouth falling open as your fingers dug into the soft covers underneath you – you felt like you were being split open. You knew it was going to be painful, but you hadn’t expected this.

His jaw clenched immediately from the strain, his hand on your hip drawing soft circles on your skin as he breached through your maidenhead, pushing continuously until he was fully sheathed inside. While he waited for you to catch your breath, it took every ounce of strength in him not to rail you into the mattress with the way your hot, velvety walls clung onto his cock. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, waiting for your cunt to relax enough for him to start moving.

You breathed through the pain, silently thanking Daemon for giving you time to adjust. After a short while, the sharp pain turned in a dull ache and you took it as a sign to slightly wiggle your hips to test the waters. Daemon’s grip on your hip tightened, pushing the gemstones and pearls of your bead belt into your skin as he reciprocated the action with a shallow thrust that had you gasping. Your gasp soon turned into a low moan as he started thrusting into you like a starved man, his free hand snaking around your hip to your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his fingers. You clenched around him, moaning loudly as he pushed you to your limit.

“P-please!” You moaned, not knowing what you were asking for.

“Please what, ābrazȳrys? Use your words.” Daemon managed to grit out, his fingers continuing playing with your pearl, his hips picking up speed as he chased both of your peaks.

You were embarrassed. You truly were – but you couldn’t care less as you moaned loudly at a particularly deep thrust. “P-please, don’t stop.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, as he angled his hips differently, hitting a soft spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your whole body tensed, your cunt spasming around him as you pulled him over the edge as well. With a loud grunt, he spilled his load inside, his thrusts slowing down, riding out his orgasm until he stopped completely.

Catching his breath, he pulled out softly, lifting his upper body to look at his spent leaking out of your bloodied, swollen opening. The sight awakening a new wave of possessiveness in him. You were his wife. His little, timid wife.

"You are mine now."

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: the honeymoon pt. 1

summary: the infinite undressing and undoing of mrs. berzatto -- or how you and carmy spend your mini-moon at the langham hotel.

warnings: so much smut so this chapter is 18+ only!! also the smut is from carmys pov and im shaking!! husband!carmy who comes with a warning label of his own, swearing, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 4.9k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist

a/n: surprise! i decided to split the honeymoon into two chapters because it was getting way too long and i refuse to cut any of it so there's that.

on another note: this series, this world, is so special to me because it is my first: first series on tumblr, first series for carmy, first time writing fanfic again as an adult that i actually followed through with. it was the universe that got me through unemployment. the fic that helped me fall in love with writing again, so i will always hold this world near and dear to my heart. but aside from occasional one shots here and there, it may be time to let them ride off into the sunset, into their happily ever after. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part three | masterlist | part five

Before he can even get the door properly closed, you’re all over him, your mouth covering his own with kisses that feel like promises, as your hands multi-task, fumbling with the door to get in closed the rest of the way. 

“As much as I loved celebrating with our friends and family, I’ve been waiting for this moment all damn day,” you say, in between kisses, satisfied as soon as you hear the clicking sound of the door locking. 

“Hmmm and what’s that?” Carmy asks you, coyly. 

His lips curve into a cocky smile mid-kiss, and he hears you chuckle, knowing exactly what buttons to push to wind you up.

“Getting you alone, Mr. Berzatto,” you giggle underneath your breath, taking a few steps away from him. 

Carmy watches you in awe, his eyes traveling from your kiss-swollen lips, to the way your hands begin to trail down your body, to the careful steps that you take backwards. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches your fingers delicately undo the first button on this goddamn blazer dress he thinks he’ll never be able to get out of his mind – not after tonight, that’s for sure. He watches them dance over the second button from the top down, peeling it open, as a bright pop of red begins to peek out from underneath your dress. 

“Carm?” you ask him, your eyes flickering down to your hands as you undo the third button, then the fourth, before returning your heated gaze to him. 

“Yes, baby,” is all he can reply, as if he’s under your spell already. 

Carmy gulps, his pants feeling incredibly tight, the air noticeably thick as he watches your little strip tease. 

It’s just a few more buttons before your dress falls open, revealing the crimson red set you’re wearing underneath. 

Red Floral Lace. Mesh. See-through. 

“Come get me,” you beckon, as you let the dress fall to the floor. 

“Fuck,” he growls on an exhale, before charging towards you. 

It’s all hot, all-consuming kisses as he pushes you back onto the California king-sized bed, eagerly following as he lays his body on top of yours. Long gone is the sport coat he was wearing earlier, and he thanks whatever deities he may owe this to that he really only has to get three articles of clothing off. 

Carmy pulls away, because he’s gotta get one goddamn good look at his wife. 

His wife. 

His breath picks up, as he drags his fingertips over the straps of your red lace bra, down to the mesh cups, watching your face twist in pleasure as his fingers run over your already-perky nipples. 

“You like?” you ask him, a small amount of vulnerability in your voice as you do. 

“Do I-, baby, have you seen yourself?” he stammers, in disbelief that you could even ask, only to be met with a smirk because you know you look good. 

But that’s not what you’re asking. You want to know if Carmy likes it, because you have much more where this came from – lingerie, you mean. And instead of telling you, Carmy has bigger and better plans to show you instead. He begins to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, across your chest, nipping at the top of the bra cup with his teeth when he gets there. 

Carmy’s eyes move to yours, watching you for a reaction so he knows that he’s giving you exactly what you want. To his delight, you hiss in pleasure, arching your back as an invitation, offering your body to him in a silent effort, begging for more. 

“This why you put on this dress?” he rasps, in reference to the fact that you had insisted on doing an outfit change from the courthouse to the reception. His tongue snakes out, running over the mesh fabric that barely covers the nipple of your left breast. 

You moan, letting out a small giggle in between breaths, as you cook up a witty reply.

“‘S not like I could wear anything underneath my wedding dress. Had to come up with a plan B,” you counter him, just another part of your seduction. 

Carmy lets out a well earned-groan and it’s music to your ears as he continues to move down your body, worshiping you with his mouth, his tongue, muttering to himself that he’s not sure whether he would’ve preferred that – you in your wedding dress, nothing underneath – or this, all fire and lace. 

But he doesn’t have time to think, settling on the fact that as long as he gets to have you, he’s not sure he cares. 

“This is so fucking sexy, baby,” he groans, shaking his head in disbelief as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He almost forgets to breathe for a moment, as it dawns on him that you’re his, and that you’re here, all spread out for him tonight, aching for him and only him. 

Before you can get in a word, he’s pushing your legs apart, settling down in between them to get exactly what he wants. You let out a gasp of surprise, considering he hasn’t taken off our panties, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulls them to one side instead. 

“Fuck,” he hears you whine, as he buries his face between your thighs. “Oh my god, Carmy.” 

His favorite thing.

Tasting you. Bringing you the kind of euphoric pleasure that makes you feel high.

 He loves the way you say his name, and how it changes, when his tongue traces tight circles around your clit; how it changes when he flattens his tongue up against your wet heat, painting broad strokes; how you cry out when he’s busy tracing abstract shapes across you till you’re completely lost in your own pleasure. Carmy moans against you, as he feels you thread your hands through his golden locks, and the sensation of your fingertips running along his scalp goes straight to his cock. 

“Carmy, don’t stop!” 

And how could he? How could he deny you the one thing you’re asking for? His mouth on you, bringing you higher and higher, winding up that coil buried so deep inside you that it has to explode, knowing that it’s him and only him that makes you feel this way. 

You’re pulling at his hair, grabbing at the bedsheets, bucking your hips up into his mouth, writhing underneath the weight of his hands that hold you in place. He can’t keep his hands off of you, desperate to feel the way your body responds to him at every touch – holding your hips down, pressing your legs wider, grabbing at your breasts as he dips his tongue inside of you. 

“Oh my God. Carmy, fuck. Don’tstoppleasedon’tstopdon’tyoudare-!” 

The feeling of your orgasm ripping through you completely rendering you speechless as you come. Carmy slows down the movements of his mouth, working you through your orgasm, wanting you to know that he’s here for you, that he’s got you as you come down. He uses his tongue to clean you up, watching you carefully as you try your best to catch your breath, committing this image to his memory. 

There are two places he feels like this – triumphant, untouchable, on top of the world – in the last push of a hard won dinner service, and when he’s right here, between your legs, in the falling action of your climax as he waits for you to come back to him. 

Carmy waits for you, watches as your eyes begin to flutter open, your breath still heavy, as you look down on him. 

“Shit. Who knew married sex would hit so differently,” you pant, let out an incredulous laugh from how hard you just came. 

Carmy grins up at you, and he loves the way it feels as you pull him towards you once more. Your hands are desperate, needy, impatient as they tear through the buttons on his shirt, practically dragging the top over his head and tossing it onto the floor with a vigor he knows only comes from how much you need him. 

“You good, baby?” he asks, cockily, because after years of this, he thinks he’s earned the right to know just how good he always makes you feel. 

“Just need you, Carm,” you rasp, propping yourself up so that you can chase his mouth with yours. “Need you so much. Need you inside of me.” 

“I know, sweet girl. I-,” he begins to say, before freezing, as if there’s an alarm going off in his head, his voice full this time as he swears, as if he’s just forgotten a really important date:

“Ffffffffffffffffuck.”

“Everything okay?” you ask, sitting up this time in response to his sobering pitch.

Carmy can feel the heat rise to his cheeks as he flushes red, completely embarrassed that he’s put the heat of the moment on pause for this, knowing fully that he won’t be able to stop thinking about it now. 

“Yeah just I just gotta-... give me like… five seconds. I promise,” he nods, though his eyes silently plead with you. 

You shake your head as Carmy leaves you, his footsteps rapid and hurried as he practically sprints over to where you left the suitcases in the hallway. He swears underneath his breath, rummaging through his bag before finding a certain plastic tupperware, a feeling of relief washing over him. He can hear you laugh as he runs through the room, tucking it safely in the mini fridge, and he can only imagine that it’s quite the sight to see.

By the time he returns to the bed, cheeks flushed, and an apologetic look in his eyes, you’re sitting up on your knees, waiting for him with an amused look on your face. 

“Do I want to know?” you ask, skeptically.

“You’ll thank me later,” he chuckles, still embarrassed. Shyly, as he steps towards the edge of the bed, he works up the nerve to ask, “Will you uh.. Think we can pick up where we left off?”

Still stunning as you were moments ago but now with that post-orgasm glow, you wrap your arms around Carmy’s neck, pulling him in closer so that he’s standing across from where you kneel. 

“You can come back to bed. But lose the pants, jerk,” you reply, feigning disapproval. 

He nods, eagerly taking off his pants as he joins you back on the bed in only his briefs. 

Carmy’s intent on making it up to you, his mouth back on yours as soon as possible, lowering you to the bed as his hands grope at any exposed flesh he can. He’s dragging the straps of the red bra down, but refuses to take it off completely. Keep it on, he insists, because he can’t get the image of you riding him in it out of his mind. It’s not till he’s tearing your panties down your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor that you know he really means business this time. 

“No more interruptions,” he promises you, as he settles in between your legs, his briefs long gone and his hard, aching cock desperate to feel you. 

As Carmy presses into you, reeling over the fact that every time feels like the first – it’s that glorious, that wondrous – you know, without all the trauma of your actual first time. You’re all tight, wet, heat pulsing around him and for once, he doesn’t have to think for a moment. 

Carmy’s always been a thinker – an overthinker, really, calculating each and every move with strategy – rarely ever a doer because that’s just not who he got to be. But with you, inside of you, it’s all instinct, and breath, and I love yous, both in pursuit of your shared pleasure. In these moments, he gets to be a doer, responding to your every moan, taking the lead when he knows what will set you off, showing you just how much you turn him on with every kiss, every touch, every thrust. 

It doesn’t take long for you to push him onto his back, reminding him that he has some making up to do for the earlier coitus interuptus and that he should let you fuck him instead.

But as you climb on top of him, turning around so that your back is to him, he swallows, admiring the view you’re so intent on giving him. He can picture it clearly, exactly – your head thrown back, biting down on your bottom lip, brow furrowed as you sink down onto him – even though he can’t see your face. 

Instead, he listens to the way you whimper his name as you begin to move your hips, traces the curves of your body as you settle into a satisfying rhythm, digs the pads of his fingers into your hips and your ass because he just can’t not touch. 

It’s music to his ears as you let out a keen-like moan when he begins to meet your hips with thrusts of his own, speeding up the perfect rhythm you’ve set. He can feel you squeezing around him, chasing your own high as you fuck yourself on him, and he can feel that familiar tightening at the bottom of his belly. 

“Fuck,” he grits out, his jaw tightening as he can feel it coming. 

All it would take was a few more thrusts, a vigorous pace, take hold of your hips and showing you just how he wants it. But instead, Carmy sits half way up, reaching out for you as he stills your hips against his. His movement causes you to shift as you realize he’s sitting all the way up, wrapping an arm around your waist, the new angle causing you to squeeze around him.

“Baby,” you whine, beginning to grind your hips in circles where you’re connected.

“I wanna see you. I wanna see you cum again,” he requests, his voice tender yet intent, as if he plans on embedding the words into your skin. And as he leaves little kisses against your shoulder blade, his words go straight to your heart. 

“Okay,” you agree with a soft whisper. 

Carmy sits back just enough to let you switch positions, before propping himself up on both hands that rest behind him. With the softest smile he thinks he’s ever seen, you climb back onto his lap. Grabbing the back of your head, he pulls you to him, kissing you like he wants to give you the world and then some. Your hands smooth over his strong shoulders and inked arms, then you’re reaching down between the two of you, guiding him back into you as you take him once more. 

He swears his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels you again, beginning to move your hips in perfect harmony together. This new position is passionate, intense, intimate. Your hands are cradling the back of his head, kissing him like he is oxygen, as he surrenders to you, to the moment, to the dance between you.

“I like this,” Carmy finally says, as he notices the way the straps of your bra hang loosely off your shoulders. 

“Me on top of you?” you smile, devilishly. 

“This,” he repeats, his eyes hungrily taking in the image of you on top of him in this sexy lace little thing, as he toys with the red elastic. “But that too.”

You grin before pressing your lips against his once more, because he truly has no idea what else you have in store for him. 

“Feel so good, sweet girl,” Carmy grunts out, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, sloppier as the feeling returns. “You feel so good.” 

You throw your head back in a moan, and he knows you’re letting him set the pace. He’s so goddamn close to cumming, as the two of you chase both of your highs this time. 

“I love you, Carmy,” he hears you whine, your head leaning against his shoulder. “So much. I love you, baby.”

He can feel it – feel you – and he knows you’re close. 

“I love you,” he manages to get out, in between a clenched jaw. 

His hips stutter, and you’re tightening around him, losing all control, surrendering to your release as you cry out. Watching you come undone around him, feeling you contract and release around him, calling out his name till your voice is hoarse is what brings him there with you. Carmy continues to fuck up into you, filling you, as his hands begin to slow down the pace of your hips.

You’re magic to him – somehow just as and more electrifying as the day he met you, the day you told him you loved him, and today, the day you both said, “I do.” 

“I think you’re right,” is what he says, in between pants, finally breaking the tension. “Married sex is a whole ‘nother level.”

“Cheers, Mrs. Berzatto,” Carmy toasts to you. 

“And a cheers to you too, Mr. Berzatto,” you reply, clinking your champagne flute with his before drinking. 

After coming back to reality – recovering from your joint discovery of just how damn good married sex is – you and Carmy spent a few more precious moments in each others’ arms, sharing languid kisses and whispered words. And after cleaning up, you both came to an agreement that if this weekend is anything like how it started, you will absolutely be in need of fuel – Carmy encouraging you to order a few things for room service off the hotel’s late night menu. 

So here you are, drinking clinking glasses of fancy champagne over overpriced burgers and truffle fries, as you begin a new journey with your husband, thinking to yourself that there’s no other way you’d want this to be. Wrapped up in his Ralph Lauren Oxford shirt that you’d gleefully pulled out of his suitcase after your quick rinse off in the shower, Carmy’s got one of those looks of deep admiration in his eyes while he listens to you you wax philosophical about something or other. 

It’s not that he’s not listening – it’s just that he cannot get over the fact that you made it here – something his twenty-five year old self probably never would’ve believed. 

“Any chance you’re still hungry?” Carmy asks, a hopeful look in his eyes as he watches you polish off the last bite of your burger. 

“Actually, yeah. Someone wore me out,” you answer cheekily, with a flirtatious shrug. 

He smiles, “Good. Stay right here.”

As you watch Carmy jump off of the bed, beelining for the minifridge to retrieve whatever he put in it earlier, you note that it’s the second time that he’s left you tonight whatever the hell it is he’s keeping in that goddamn plastic tupperware. With an arched eyebrow, you ask:

“Watcha got over there?” 

Carmy climbs back onto the bed, kneeling as he offers the square-shaped box to you, careful not to knock anything over on your shared room service tray. He begins to peel back the plastic lid, pulling it away from the storage container, earning a well-won sound of surprise from you as you realize exactly what it is. 

“Tiramisu?” you gasp, completely moved by your husband’s gesture. “Carm, when the hell did you have time to make this?”

He gives you nothing but a boyish shrug, before gathering your two unused spoons that came with the silverware sets that room service brought up with your late night dinner. 

“Had a little extra time at the restaurant this week,” is all he says, which you know is a lie. 

You send a skeptical look his way, because rarely does he ever have extra time at the restaurant where he’s just hanging around. Sure, a tiramisu isn’t wildly difficult to make, but it’s been off of The Bear’s menu for years now.

And you should know. You’re the one who put it on there in the first place. 

“Thought you didn’t bake,” you challenge him, as you pick up one of the spoons off of the room service tray.  

“Yeah ‘s about the only thing I can do… considering it requires little to no baking at all,” he shoots back, picking up his spoon as well. 

With no hesitation of being first, you dig your spoon into the soft cocoa powder covered cream and espresso soaked lady finger dessert, before raising your spoon to your lips for a first bite. 

“Ohhhh, baby…” you practically moan, your eyes closed as you throw your head back in pure bliss. 

Carmy snorts with laughter, but he’s satisfied with your reaction, knowing that he did a damn good job with it. 

“Would you two like to be alone?” Carmy teases you, pointing his spoon to the tiramisu then back to you. “Thought this was our honeymoon.” 

You lift your head, rolling your eyes playfully, before going back for seconds, “Don’t be jealous. You’re still the only one making me moan like that.”

And suddenly, the room feels about five degrees hotter, as Carmy feels heat rise to his cheeks. But he’s not quite ready to go there again, just yet, so instead he just explains:

“I know we both promised we wouldn’t do any of the food today, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to show you how much I love you in the only way I know how.” 

“It’s not the only way,” you tease him with a smirk, as he shakes his head incredulously. 

You can tell you’ve made him blush, which is only a little bit funny considering the dirty things that came out of his mouth barely an hour ago. But the silver lining is this, and it’s not lost on you: after all this time and all of these years, it’s good to know that on your wedding day, you still know how to flirt with your husband. 

Carmy’s eyes are fixed to the tiramisu as he focuses on digging his own spoon into the tiramisu, inhaling the spoonful right away. 

Damn. It is good, he thinks to himself, though he’s usually quite hesitant to give himself a compliment. 

“So what were you and Sugar talking about?” Carmy asks, curiously changing the subject. 

“Oof. You really wanna kill the mood with that answer?” you counter him, and he can hear the reality of the situation in the way your voice drops. 

“That bad?” he pries, hesitantly. 

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. While you’re not sure you want to ruin a perfect night by talking about Donna, you also feel like there’s no escaping it either. “Sugar and I’s talk was great but… she was upset… about your mom not coming.”

With a quick raise of his eyebrows, Carmy nods along, only slightly disappointed by the answer. 

Leave it to Mom to ruin a perfectly good day without even showing up, he thinks to himself. 

“Are… you… okay about it?” you drag out, cautiously. 

“Yeah,” he answers with a curt nod. You’re not convinced, eyeing him carefully as Carmy chooses to charge through. 

“Didn’t really expect her to come anyways. Would’ve been more drama than it was worth.” 

“Bear,” you sigh in response to the impossible situation, because there’s no way that he’s not at least a little disappointed. 

He shrugs, his eyes evasive of yours as he scoffs dismissively, shaking his head. 

“Welcome to the fuckin’ family, I guess.”

You really don’t want to get into it now – not on your wedding night – so you shut your mouth even though you’re not exactly satisfied with his response. You know Carmy has every right to not want his mom there knowing that everything he’s said is true, but it still hurts your heart that he’s closed off his heart to her like this – that it has to be this way. 

You let out a heavy exhale, before digging back into the tiramisu, pushing the thought out of your mind. And just when you think you’re done talking about it, Carmy presses you once more, his voice softer this time as he asks:

“What’d you uh… say? To Sugar?” 

You take another breath, a sympathetic smile on your lips as you explain: 

“I told her that I was sorry… that things are the way that they are, but I really just think she just needed someone to listen to her.” 

“Yeah.”

A half beat. 

“And I told her that… well, I told her that… we get to change things. You and I. Her and Pete. With the baby coming and everything too and… and us. Getting married, you know?”

Carmy hums in response, nodding his head as he processes what you said. Returning his gaze to you, it feels like he’s looking right through you, his blues so intense as he softly speaks again.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

You wait a beat, then another, noticing that your champagne glass is almost empty. You reach for the bottle, topping off Carmy’s flute first. You search your mind for something else to talk about, because you think he may actually be done talking about Donna this time, a small laugh escaping your lips as you think about today. 

“Hmmm?”

Your eyes move to Carmy’s, then back to the almost-empty champagne flute that you’re refilling as you smirk with, “Bold move putting me on the spot like that with the vows.” 

He laughs, a blush running across his cheeks as he shyly replies:

“You know, we got there, and I uh… well, I wanted to. Should I uh-, you know… think we shoulda talked about it before?” 

“No, I actually kind of liked it,” you reassure him, raising the champagne flute to your lips once more. You take a sip, before continuing to flirt with your husband. “You’re gettin’ the hang of this whole… romantic gesture thing, Berzatto.”

“Anything for you, Berzatto,” he shoots back, emphasizing your new last name in a way that makes your heart flutter at the reminder.

You hum a satisfied hum in response, relaxing a little more into where you sit on the bed. 

“Though if I had known ahead of time, I guess I could’ve prepared something. ‘S too bad,” you say playfully, causing Carmy to smile.

“We could do it now,” he offers, his voice going up at the end like it’s a question, and there’s something so boyish in his charm that it makes your heart melt. 

“Hmmmm,” you begin, pondering where you’d like to start. He had promised to love you forever, and you him, but as you think about all the ways you want to love him, a smile spreads across your lips. 

“Okay,” you accept, ready to play along. “I promise… that on the days you want breakfast burritos… that I will go to the place you like a few blocks down from ours.”

“Even though you think the place across from our place is better and closer?” he asks, unable to hide his shock as his eyebrows raise then lower. 

You giggle, “Even though I think the place near ours is way better and is so much more convenient to get to, Bear.” 

“Wow uh. Okay then,” Carmy says, taking this as an invitation. “Then I promise to always make sure to check that they put extra green salsa in the bag for you, no matter where we get the breakfast burritos.”

You grin, nodding your head alongside a, “You’re too good to me.”

This time, you take a moment to think it over, taking it more seriously now. 

“I think… we should promise… to always have each others’ backs; to always be each others’ teammate.”

Carmy nods his head in agreement, “Yeah I uh… I think that’s great, babe.” 

Two of you settle into a comfortable quiet, eating tiramisu and drinking champagne, while Carmy continues to steal glances your way when he thinks you aren’t looking. 

He takes a beat. Then another, before propping his head up on his hand where he lays on his side across from you.

“What about this?” he proposes. “We promise to love each other, even when we disagree.”

“Even when you’re being a dick,” you tease him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. Even when I’m being a dick and you’re fuckin’ fed up with me,” he agrees with a head nod. “What else?”

“That we grow old together,” you say, without question, before painting him a picture of what you dream it could look like. 

“And we promise to take care of each other when we’re cranky and smelly, and you’re telling the grandkids about your glory days as a hotshot chef….” You take a beat, giggling at the thought. “... while I roll my eyes because you’re yelling at someone to bring you your old chef’s knife so that you can show them that you still know how to perfectly Brunoise a carrot.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have to pry my chef’s knife out of my cold dead hands,” he warns you, humorously.  

You laugh, “Honey, I knew that when I signed the marriage license.”

“I think we’ll be those grandparents, don’t you? The ones that pass on all of our recipes to the kids and the grandkids, and even when we’re not there anymore, we live on in everyone’s kitchen,” you conclude, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. “You know? You and me.” 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

You exchange a silly laugh, because neither of you know where to go after this, your and his hearts warmed by the thought of growing old together. You’ve been together for years now, but in so many ways, it still feels like you have so much life ahead of you; a life with Carmy that you’re only just getting started. 

Carmy waits a beat, allowing your shared laugh to subside. 

“I like the sound of this. Of us,” he declares, his voice soft yet sure. 

“Me too, Carm. Me too,” you agree.

[abbs-writes]

Caught | Spencer Reid

If you're my boyfriend and you see this, no you don't, move on and do not read this, please and thank you <3

So this is old, I had it up on an old account that's now since been deleted. But I wanted to repost it because I wanna continue writing it and adding more parts to it. But yeah it's very angsty and it's a fuck or die trope so ya know..

⚠️Major Trigger Warnings⚠️: kidnapping, torture, fuck or die trope aka non consensual sex (it doesn't actually happen but still), stalker, crying, head injuries, use of restraints but not by choice, talk of loss of virginity, use of guns, blood, talk of BDSM, porn, masturbation, so much crying and struggling, very very sad and angsty and like yeah, if I missed anything let me know <3 please read at your own discretion

Your head pounded, you felt light headed and dizzy. You tried to open your eyes but your head hurt too much. The cold floor grounded you, it was a nice constant. You could hear a voice but couldn't quite place it, it echoed in your mind only making your head hurt more. You groaned, you couldn't get up, everything hurt too much. And there was that damned voice again, speaking way too loudly for your comfort. "Please stop," you whimpered, your body ached to the point that you felt nauseous. "Y/n, please.. tell me you're okay," the voice said but once again you groaned. "Shh," you said, trying to get them to stop speaking.

You faintly heard the noise of a lock clicking but you didn't quite understand what it meant. But before you could even think, you felt hands on your body. The hands were gentle on your arms, trying to help you move but you didn't want to. "It's me, y/n It's me. It's spencer. Talk to me." He said. Spencer, oh thank god it was spencer. "Stop, i don't wanna move," you said, voice shaking. "Okay, okay. We won't move, im just gonna put your head in my lap." He said. Once again, you were groaning as he did so. You could feel him moving but you refused to open your eyes. He placed the fabric of his sweater on your forehead, you must've been bleeding, that's the only reason he'd do that. "Can you open your eyes? I need to check if you have a concussion." Spencer said. You whined, "it hurts, everything hurts." You said. "I know, I know but I need to know you're okay. After that you can close your eyes again." He said. You forced your eyes open, looking up at spencer. You would've been so happy to see him but he looked horrible. He was disheveled and obviously been crying. He never cries, why was he crying?

"Follow my finger, okay baby?" He said. You did your best but it was hard. You kept having to close your eyes because the pain was too much. Spencer sighed, giving up, "you probably have a concussion. You can close your eyes now. Just relax, I've got you." He said, petting your hair gently in hopes it would help you relax. "What happened?" You asked after a few moments of silence. "The unsub we've been hunting... he got us. But I'll keep you safe, i promise." He said. "Spencer, we- we've been through this. We don't make promises," you said softly. You were right and Spencer knew that. You two never made promises in hopes you two could never be let down by the inevitable broken promises. He never promised to be home on time due to the fact that it was almost impossible that he would be home on time. You never promised to stay up for him because it was so hard to stay up late in hopes he'd be home on time. Promises were almost never kept, it wasn't ever anyone's fault. You both knew that.

"Is the team on the way?" You asked, hoping, praying they were closer than you thought. Spencer sighed, he didn't answer, instead just leaning down and kissing the top of your head. That wasn't a good sign. "Just relax, remember how you've been planning that beach trip?" Spencer said. "That was supposed to be a surprise," you sighed softly. "I know, but I saw your laptop.. I've been thinking about it ever since. I've never liked the beach but i think with you.. I could really enjoy it. Finding a nice shady spot where I can read and you can drink your fancy little cocktails you enjoy so much," he smiled at the thought. You tried to giggle but it hurt, that sounded so nice, so perfect. "Now, i refuse to get into the water.. but I know you would too. The ocean is so vast, so unexplored. You've always hated the unknown but who doesn't. It's a common fear, just like the dark, it makes sense. But it'll be me and you, on a white sandy beach, reading, talking, drinking. It's perfect." He said, never stopping petting your hair.

He kept talking but you couldn't hear it. You started to doze off and he could tell by how your body relaxed. Part of him was worried that if you fell asleep, you might not wake up. But he knew you were strong, you just needed to rest and if you could sleep, then it was best that you did. He couldn't sleep, he refused. He would not let his guard down. He wasn't going to let someone else be taken away from him. It had happened too many times before, he couldn't let it happen again. He stayed vigilant, keeping an eye on your breathing while also looking around the dark room for any escape or any object he could use to protect the two of you. There was nothing, it was a dark room with a bed in the middle. Not a nice bed, just a mattress thrown onto the floor. He noticed the shackles and his stomach turned in knots, he didn't even wanna think about those being used, especially not on you.

He enjoyed the silence, being able to hear your soft breathing brought him solace. He was as comfortable as he could be in a moment like this. It did worry him how long it had been since the unsub had done anything. Was the unsub out? Was he not home, the team had profiled that the unsub had a family so it made sense he wasn't here. But he didn't know what time it was. It had to have been day if the unsub wasn't here. It meant he was either at work or with his family. But he dreaded when the unsub would be back. He knew a little about how it would go. The unsub took couples, made them have sex before he killed them. He never kept them longer than 3 days. The time was ticking and it was breaking his heart.

You woke up after maybe a couple of hours, you weren't sure. You felt somewhat better. Your body ached but not as badly, your head hurt but you were able to open your eyes. You looked up at spencer. "Spence?" You asked, gaining his attention. "Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked gently. "Better... or as much better as I can be." You sighed. "That's good, how's your head? It stopped bleeding." He said, examining the cut on your forehead. "It hurts but not as bad.." you said. You tried to move but spencer stopped you. "Hey, hey, take it slow." He said. He helped you sit up, very slowly. "There we go, can you look at me?" He asked. You did as he asked. He gave you a gentle smile, moving hair from your face. "You seem a little pale, how's your stomach?" He asked. "I'm nauseous.. but I think it's from the pain." You said. "I understand." He said.

There was a loud buzzing noise making you cover your ears, the noise made your head hurt. A door opened, spencer turned to see the unsub wearing a mask. He sat down a tray of food, along with a bottle of water. He pushed them into the room before slamming the door shut. The noise made you jump. You opened your eyes, uncovering your ears. "What is that?" You asked. "Food.. water.." spencer slowly stood. This was new.. the unsub never fed his victims, never kept them hydrated. The ME reporter the victims had no food in their system for three days. This wasn't right. Spencer grabbed the tray and the water and brought it over to you. You went to reach for the bread but spencer stopped you. "It might be poisonous.." he said, you nodded before pulling back. Spencer inspected the bottle of water, he knew you needed water. Dehydration would only make the concussion worse. It hadn't looked like it had been tampered with. No small holes to indicate poison. No broken seal to indicate it would be replaced with something else. He even took the label off to further investigate but it looked clean. "Okay, take sips. Don't chug it." Spencer said, opening the water. He brought it to your lips, you took the bottle with shaking hands and did as he said, only taking sips of the water.

He went back to the food, he didn't trust it but it also wouldn't make sense to poison it if he was planning on keeping the two of you. "I'm sorry y/n.. I don't think we should eat it. It's not safe, too many variables." He said. You nodded and watched as he pushed the tray to the side. You offered Spencer the water but he shook his head, "you need it baby. Keep taking sips." He said. You wanted to fight him but couldn't, you didn't have it in you. You took a few more sips before closing the bottle and setting it down. "Spence.." you looked around the room, finally taking in your surroundings. It was like he could read your mind, you didn't have to say you were scared. He already knew. He saw it in your eyes. He saw it in the way your hands trembled. "I know.. but it's okay to be scared. It's a natural reaction to what's happening." He explained. You nodded. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to bring yourself comfort in the cold, dark room. Spencer placed the sweater he had used to stop your bleeding around your shoulders. You took it happily, cuddling into the warmth. "Are you scared?" You asked. Spencer would never admit it, he was ducking terrified. The unsub was deviating from his MO and he didn't know what it meant. He didn't even know if this was the same unsub at this point. His mind was racing and he was so scared but he'd never admit it. He knew you weren't a profiler so he knew he could hide his emotions from you. But he wandered if it was even a good idea. "A little," he admitted, but that's all he gave you.

He was thankful when you didn't push him any further. You took his answer as it was and he was thankful. He wasn't sure what would come next, he had been through so many hostage situations but nothing like this. Nothing where he was stuck with the woman he loved more than anything, nothing where he might be faced to have sex with the woman he loved in a place that he never wanted it to happen at. He had made so many plans in his mind about his first time with you but he never went through with any of them. Not because he didn't want to but because work or his own anxiety got in the way. But he knew for a fact that this wasn't how he wanted it to happen.

The silence quickly ended though when there was another loud buzz, the noise made you shake. Once again the door opened. "Bring me the tray." The unsub said. Spencer grabbed the tray but stopped when the unsub pulled out a gun, pointing it at spencer. "Not you, her." The gun was now pointed at you. Your heart stopped, in reality, it sped up faster than it ever had. "I'm not sure she can stand, she's hurt." Spencer tried to explain but the unsub shook his head. "Bring me the tray or i shoot." He demanded. Tears brimmed your eyes. You stood shakily, spencer was sure you might fall. You didn't though. Spencer saw you about to bend down but he quickly grabbed the tray and handed it to you. Your legs were shaking as you walked. You walked slowly, scared you would fall. Your head pounded just like your heart. You brought the tray to the unsub. The gun was brought to your head and you cried out. "Do not kill her or i swear to god-" Spencer started but was cut off. "I wouldn't kill such a pretty little thing like this. So pure, so innocent. Does he know?" The unsub asked, the gun moving from your temple to under your chin. It didn't take a genius to put together what the unsub had said. But spencer already knew you were a virgin, you never had to say it. He could tell when you kissed, so unsure of yourself. He could tell when your hands shook as your tried to undo the buttons of his shirt for the first time. Every part of your body and how you reacted to him when you two made out screamed virgin, insecurity, unsure of yourself. He knew and you never even had to say it.

"Don't worry darling, I'll film it so you can watch it over and over again. See how he takes that pretty little flower of yours and tears it to shreds. Do you know what men think about when they see a virgin? They only think about one thing, absolutely ruining you. They wanna ruin you, they wanna tear you apart till you are nothing. Then they wanna throw you to the side because guess what? You aren't as special as you think you are, especially after you're no longer a virgin." The unsub said, gun still shoved under your chin. He used it to make you look up at him. "I wanted to tear you to fucking shreds the moment I saw you in that pretty pink dress. So young, so pure. How old are you? 25? Your birthday was recently, I remember the party. You got so drunk that spencer here had to carry you home. I'm surprised he didn't defile you then, take advantage of you. He must really love you if he didn't want to take you right then and there." The unsub said. Tears were streaming down your face by now, you could barely see. You tried to focus, not on his words but on his eyes. It was important to take in every detail you could incase you escaped so you could tell the team what you saw. His eyes were green, nothing special about them. There was nothing identifying about him, no different colored eyes, no black specks that you could place. There was nothing and you felt defeated. "Move back," the unsub said. You did as he said, and with that the door shut.

You couldn't move and neither could spencer. He replayed the whole conversation back in his head. The pretty pink dress he was referring to was the one you wore on your first date with spencer. He knew your birthday, he was at the party. The party was small, close friends and family only. He knew you were a virgin, no one knew that. Unless they were your close friend. This didn't make sense, how did he know so much. They didn't profile the unsub to be a stalker, he was a man that took couples of opportunity. He kept them for three days, never fed them or let them drink. This wasn't the original unsub.. this was someone totally different. This was a stalker, a man who had followed you around for days, months, at this point maybe even years. This was a whole different story, the team didn't know about him. The team wouldn't be here any time soon. And now he had no idea how long the two of you had to live. He had nothing, he had no profile, he had no clues. But maybe, just maybe you knew something.

"Y/n," spencer spoke but you were unmoving. He stood up walking over to you. You were like a statue, the only identifiable form of life was the way your hands shook. "Y/n," he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him. He saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart broke. "Do you know him?" Spencer asked. "His eyes were green spencer, that's all I could see. I couldn't- I didn't see anything else. Spencer I tried but there was nothing-" you were close to breaking down, going on a rant about how you tried so hard to place him. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You did good. You tried. Green eyes, that's good. That's a start." Spencer said, grabbing your shaking hands. He pulled you into his chest, "do you know anyone, any man with green eyes?" He asked. You shook your head, you couldn't place anyone because you couldn't even think straight. He had been watching you for so long and you never noticed and it scared the shit out of you. "Okay, that's okay. We can try something later after you calm down, okay?" He said and you nodded. Spencer brought you back over to the corner where the two of you sat before. He sat down, pulling you between his legs and holding you tightly. The tightness of his arms grounded you, the feeling of the cold floor against your legs also kept you grounded. "We will get through this, no matter what. Okay?" He said and you nodded.

You didn't even notice when Spencer started to speak, he was repeating a book to you. It took you a while to place it, but then you realized, he was quoting Alice in Wonderland, word for word. It was a childhood favorite of yours and he was doing it to comfort you. You buried your head in his arms, crying. As sobs shook through you, spencer held you tighter. He continued to quote the book, he knew it brought you comfort and he was gonna keep you grounded the best way he knew how to. He would never tell you how he was breaking. As time went on, he broke more. He had nothing, no clue about who the unsub was. He was so fucking scared and he didn't know what to do. He thought about trying to subdue the unsub but he had a gun, he could get shot, or worse, you could get shot. He had no way to get help. There were no windows. The door was dead bolted and connected to some sort of mechanism that made it impossible to unlock unless you had the button or passcode or whatever the fuck the unsub had. He was helpless, he had no team, no gun, no profile and no clues. It reminded him of when he was taken by Tobias Hankle. At least then he was able to talk to the unsub, reason with him and get help when needed. Now he had nothing. There was no reasoning with this unsub, his motives were clear. Fuck or Die.

It had become a waiting game, he was able to finish the whole book by the time you had worn yourself out to the point that you passed out. He was anxious, the only solace he found was in playing with your hair. It kept him calm, grounded. He tried to count the time but he kept losing count with every little noise he heard. His heart raced with every sound, so scared the unsub would come back and put the gun back to your head. The image of your body shaking and tears rolling down your face would be forever engrained in his mind. He didn't wanna remember you like that, he wanted to remember you as the sweet, smart girl he knew. The one he fell so hard for. The girl who was the only one who could help him sleep. No matter how many bad cases, bad nights and nightmares he had, he still found comfort in your arms, in the way you played with his hair and sang your favorite songs to him. He was never into pop music, love songs, but when you sang them, they were his own form of heaven. He replayed the songs in his mind as you slept. He never knew who they were by or what they were called but he could recall every single lyric.

It could've been hours by the next time the buzz came and the door opened. You jolted awake, god he wished you had stayed asleep. He didn't want you to go through it again, the gun to your head. "Come here," the unsub said, once again, gun pointed towards spencer. You moved out of Spencer's lap so he could stand up. He walked towards the unsub cautiously, trying to play through the scenarios in his mind. Ones where he'd grab the gun successfully and subdue the unsub. "Don't try to be smart now," The unsub said, gun now pointed at you. His heart sank, all possibilities of subduing the unsub now out the window. You cried again, knees pulled to your chest. "Don't shoot her, I'll cooperate." Spencer said, holding his hands un in defense. "Good," the unsub tossed spencer a pair of keys. Spencer caught them but was confused, he stared at the keys in his hand before looking up at the unsub. "Don't play dumb, you know what to do." The unsub motioned towards the shackles. "No, no, no, we don't need to do that. She'll listen. I promise she will." Spencer said. "What was that that she said earlier? We don't make promises?" The unsub said, spencer could hear the smirk in his voice. He had been listening the whole time.

"I won't- i can't tie her up, please. She- she'll be good. I'll make sure. Please," spencer pleaded. A shot rang out but thankfully it was just at the wall. You screamed, covering your ears. "Okay! Okay, don't shoot! It's okay!" Spencer's ears were ringing. You were quick to move, going over to the bed. You were sobbing and scared and Spencer knew that. He could feel it in every part of his body. He walked over to you, his own hands shaking. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He grabbed your wrist gently, grabbing the metal cuff and placing it around your wrist. He locked it, he didn't want to but he did. Then he did the next wrist, he was so gentle, so calm. He had to be because he knew if you knew how truly scared he was, you would break. "There, okay, it's done." Spencer said, turning back towards the unsub. The unsub shook his head, "ankles too," he stated. Spencer felt defeated as he looked down at the bed seeing the shackles for your feet. Your legs were pulled to your chest, laying in the fetal position. "P-please don't, please. Please I'll be good," you cried out but the unsub shook his head. "No, do the ankles, now!" He yelled. You moved your legs to lay flat. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut.

"Hey, hey, listen to me. We're on the beach, yeah? It warm, not too hot, we're not sweating. There's a cool breeze," he spoke as he put the shackles around your ankles. "It's not too cold though, it doesn't make us shiver. You have your music playing.. that one song with the lyrics about, god, what were the lyrics?" For once he couldn't think, he couldn't remember. "The one that goes, "we could leave the Christmas lights up till January," he said. You knew the song, you loved that song. "I-I never understood the lyrics.. leaving the Christmas lights up till January? Why would you do that?" Spencer tried to chuckle but his voice cracked. He couldn't stop the tears from falling. Once he was done with the shackles he looked back at the unsub. "Give me the keys," the unsub said. Spencer nodded, getting up and handing him the keys. With that, the unsub left.

Spencer was quick to be by your side. You broke, struggling in the restraints as you cried. "No, no, relax. You'll hurt yourself. You're already hurt enough, okay?" He said, you couldn't relax. You still struggled, crying. Spencer grabbed your face, "look at me, look at me," Spencer said. You opened your tired eyes, looking at spencer. "It will be okay, i won't hurt you. I won't let him hurt you. If I'm here, you're safe, I'll make sure of it." He said, stroking away the tears on your face. "I wanna go home," you cried. "That's a normal response-" you cried again, "stop! Stop it with the normal responses! This isn't normal! None of this is normal! Please, let me go!" You yelled out, trying to move again. It broke spencer, his eyes squeezing shut as his tears fell onto your shirt. "We'll be home soon, back in bed. Cuddling, watching movies. I promise we can watch a normal movie, none of the old timey russian movies. No need to translate. We can watch Mean girls, or- or some cartoons. We can watch anything you want." He said, trying hard to calm down and calm you down. "Remember- remember when you said you wanted a dog? And i complained, god, i don't know why I complained. We can get a dog now, okay? Any breed, i don't care. We can get a pitbull, a terrier, any dog toy want." He said. "A greyhound?" You asked, sniffling. "Yes, yes, a greyhound. We'll get a greyhound. We'll take him on walks together, bring him to the dog park. He can sleep in our bed, i don't care." Spencer said. He saw a smile from on your face. You leaned into his touch, "maybe we can get a cat too?" You offered. Spencer laughed, "of course, a cat too." He said. You smiled, your crying was slowing down but it didn't stop. He couldn't stop crying either, he tried but it wasn't worth it when he knew it'd start again.

"D-do you think- spencer," you didn't want to finish the sentence. You didn't quite know what you wanted to ask. "It's okay, take your time. We got all day," he tried to joke and it made you smile. "I never wanted our first time to be like this," you whispered. Spencer sighed, "I know, me neither. I wanted it to be with rose petals, music, maybe a nice dinner." He said. "Maybe on a beach," you whispered. Spencer smiled, "you were planning it, weren't you?" He asked, referring to the trip. "I was, but I never- we would never get the time." You giggled. "Your job sucks sometimes," you said. Spencer let out a broken laugh, "it truly does." He said. "But you know, sex on the beach is never what you expect it to be. Sand in places it shouldn't be, not to mention all the dieses in the sand." He said and once more you giggled. "Always ruining the moment," you said. "I never try to, maybe we could have that sex in the hotel room though, just to be safe." He said. "What about all the possible dieses in the hotel bed, huh?" You joked. "Way less than the ones on the beach." He said. You just shocked your head with a smile. "Maybe more than the ones on this bed," you said, really trying to joke. Spencer sighed, you didn't mean to bring the two of you back to reality but you did. You were faced with the horrible reality that you would lose your virginity on this possible dieses ridden bed covered in stains.

"How's your stomach?" Spencer asked, changing the subject. "I forgot about it.. was thinking about the beach, and the dog and the cat." You said. Spencer smiled at that. "Good, do you need some water?" He asked. "That would be nice," you said. Spencer reached over, grabbing the water you had left on the floor. He opened the bottle before placing a hand behind your head. He raised your head, helping you sip some water. You took a few sips before spencer pull the bottle away. "Better?" He asked and you nodded. He set the bottle down after closing it. "You haven't slept," you said and Spencer shook his head, "don't need to." He said. "That's a lie, you need sleep. You need all the energy you can get and you know that," you said. "I'll sleep when we leave." He said. "Spence, we don't know when that'll be. Please, just- just lay your head on my chest and sleep." You said. Spencer sighed, you were right, he needed sleep and he didn't know how long you two would be here. He reluctantly placed his head on your chest, it wasn't the same when you couldn't play with his hair. But then you started to sing, the lyrics flooding his brain. He could barely relax but it was enough to send him off to sleep.

You fell asleep too, you didn't mean to. You were just so tired, so worn out from struggling. You didn't know how long the two of you slept, nothing happened, the unsub never came it. It was a calm night, it didn't make sense but you decided not to think too much about it. Thinking made your head hurt. You woke up before Spencer, you went to play with his hair but the restraints stopped you. You wanted to cry again, realization had set back in as you remembered where you were. You clenched your first but stayed put, you didn't want to wake spencer. He needed rest, especially if he was going to somehow devise a plan to get the two of you out of there. He was your only hope, you trusted him though. You knew you would be okay.. maybe not now but eventually.

Spencer woke up shortly after you, looking up at you with a smile. He must've forgotten where he was as well. But you saw the realization set in. He was brought back to reality as he looked around the room. Nothing had changed which was good. But that still meant there was nothing to help him escape. Then the familiar buzzing came back. You dreaded that sound more than anything. The unsub walked in, gun in hand. He tossed scissors onto the ground. They were children's scissors, it could do damage but not enough to stop him from shooting. He thought maybe if he could get the scissors into his neck it would stop him but that wouldn't, nothing would stop a mad man from shooting the love of his life. He's learned that the hard way.

"The shirt," the unsub said, pointing the gun at the scissors then at you. Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, "please, I'll do anything if you just let her go." Spencer said. "No, the shirt." The unsub said. "We could make a deal, you- we- please," spencer didn't have a deal to make. He knew what the unsub wanted and he didn't know how to stop it. "Now!" The unsub yelled. Spencer gave in, you didn't cry out this time like you had before when you yelled. When spencer looked at you, he saw you broken, silently sobbing but not begging anymore. He wanted you to beg, he wanted to know you were still fighting, still willing to fight for your life, your purity. But you didn't, you were silent as you cried, eyes squeezing shut.

Spencer sat besides you, he used the scissors at the bottom of your shirt, slowly cutting the fabric. His hands trembled as he struggled to get through the material. He had seen this part of you before but not like this. Not when he was forced to. The unsub walked over to him, looking over his shoulder. "How pretty, beautiful untouched skin." He said. Spencer held the scissors so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Oh come on now," the gun was now to the back of Spencer's head. "You really don't wanna do that, you hurt me, I hurt you. Not enough to kill you, no, no. I would make you watch as i fucking tear her apart. You don't want that do you? You want it to be you, you want to be the one to take her sweet virginity. I know you do." He said, keeping the gun in place, the barrel placed against the back of his head.

"Not like This," spencer whispered. "Not like This? Are you sure about that? You think she's the only one I watch? I've seen you Dr. Spencer Reid. I've seen you, laying in bed, what dumbass keeps the blinds open?" He chuckled, "I watched as you jacked off to porn, to photos of her, she wasn't even nude in them. Scantily clad, but never nude. How perverted are you? I've seen the porn you watch, BDSM? I bet the shackles turn you on." The unsub said. Spencer was heartbroken. He didn't need this side of himself revealed, especially not to you. He would share those things, but not now. "They don't," spencer said. "Why not? You've watched girls suffer and enjoyed it. But not this?" The unsub said. "BDSM is based on consent. This isn't consensual." Spencer said. "I Can make it consensual." The unsub said. The gun was now pointed at you. "Beg," he said. "W-what? Beg for what?" You asked, trying to not let your voice crack but it wasn't working. "Beg him to fuck you, tell him you want it. Make it believable." The unsub said.

You looked at spencer, he couldn't even look at you. He was so ashamed of himself, so hurt and guilty. "P-please f-fuck me," you said, unconvincingly. "Make it believable!" The unsub yelled. There was that sob again, the one that wracked through your body and broke spencer. "P-please fuck me, please spencer, I need you, I want you. Please i want it," you cried, staring at spencer. He shook his head, "I can't, you don't want it. I can't," Spencer said, tears streaming down his face once more. "Fine, if you can't. Then i will!" The unsub shoved spencer out of the way.

You screamed, cried when you felt the unsubs hands on your body. It felt dirty, his hands were rough. You struggled in his grip on your sides. "Spencer, please, please!" You cried out. You couldn't see spencer through the tears in your eyes. But then you heard it. A shot fired and the body of the unsub fell limp on you. You screamed again, "help, help, help," you cried, squirming. You could feel the blood pouring out of the unsub and onto your body. Spencer quickly grabbed the unsubs limp body and moved him off of you. You were sobbing, shaking. Spencer kicked the gun away in case the unsub was able to get up. He grabbed the keys and quickly started to undo the shackles. Once your ankles and hands were free, you hugged spencer, hugged him so tightly you were sure he might not be able to breathe. "We need to get out of here, we need to find a phone," spencer said quickly, pulling back. You looked over at the body but spencer grabbed your face, "Don't look at him, look at me. We need to get out of here. Okay? Can you stand?" He asked. You weren't sure but spencer was already standing, pulling you up with him.

Your head started pounding again but you ignored it, leaning against Spencer's body as he guided you out of the room. He had to practically pull you up the stares. He opened the door, leading the two of you into a house. "I need to find a phone," Spencer said, leaving your side. You leaned back against the wall, falling down to the floor as you cried. You could still feel the unsubs hands on you, you could still see his lifeless body on the floor. The imagine would be engrained in your mind. The feeling of his hands would be burned into your brain. "The team is on there way," spencer said as he got down beside you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. "We're safe, we'll be safe soon. We're going home. We're gonna get that dog and that cat. We'll take that beach trip." He explained, keeping you close.

You didn't know how long it took for the team to get there. You were too busy shaking and crying in Spencer's arms, replaying the scene in your head over and over again. The door bust open making you flinch, you didn't scream, you didn't have it in you. "Spence, oh my god, spence," JJ said, running over to the two of you. "The ambulance will be here soon, okay?" She said. You couldn't open your eyes but you could hear the team moving through the house. You didn't want to open your eyes, you were so scared you'd see the body again. "Are you okay?" JJ asked. Spencer nodded then looked down at you, "She was hit in the head, im sure she has a concussion." Spencer said. "Is she bleeding?" JJ asked but spencer shook his head, "It's not her blood," he said. JJ was relieved. She loved Spencer and she loved you. Sure, spencer knew her first, but you felt closer to her than anyone else. "Ambulance is here!" Someone called out. "Okay, okay, we need to get you two checked out." JJ said.

Spencer started to move but you cried harder, clinging onto him. "No, no, no-" you cried. "It's okay, we're going to the ambulance. Okay, im staying with you." Spencer said. You reluctantly stood up with him. JJ was on your other side, helping you walk. You never realized how weak you were till now. Your feet drug against the ground, you felt limp, heavy. You hear hung as you walked. You were so tired. They helped you into the ambulance and laid you down. You clung onto Spencer's arm like a lifeline, afraid that if you let go, the unsub would be back, grabbing you, touching you.

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," spencer said, grabbing your hand and holding it just as tightly as you were holding his. "I'll meet you two at the hospital," JJ said before leaving the car. Spencer just looked down at you, watching as the EMT's checked you out. You felt a hand on your stomach that wasn't Spencer's and you freaked out. "N-no! Please!" You squeezed your eyes shut. "D-don't touch her there!" Spencer said, shoving the EMTs hand away. "I was checking for bleeding," he said. "That's not her blood! Don't touch her there again!" Spencer was furious, these were the people that were supposed to keep us safe but yet they were making you relive the trauma. "I won't, i wont," The EMT said.

They hooked you up to IVs, checking you for a concussion which you indeed had. "She's dehydrated and in pain. We're giving her morphine. She'll fall asleep soon," The EMT said. Spencer nodded and his eyes never left you. You couldn't open your eyes, the lights were too bright and you were too tired to keep them open. "I'm here, I'm not leaving." Spencer said. You squeezed his hand to indicate you were listening. "Did you hear the doctor? You'll fall asleep soon but I'll be right here. I'm not leaving." You squeezed his hand again. Spencer knew the EMT wasn't a doctor but he wasn't about to make things more difficult for you to understand in your fragile state. You fell asleep soon after he told you what was happening.

Spencer was so tired, struggling to keep his eyes open as he watched you sleep. He refused to sleep, he couldn't bare having you wake up without him being awake as well. The doctors hooked him up to an IV after checking him out. He was fine, dehydrated but fine. He didn't have a concussion like you did, he wasn't stuck in shackles like you were. Sure, he had trauma but nothing as bad as you. He had been through the pain, the gun against the head, but you hadn't. This was all new to you and he knew you were about to go through hell when you woke up. You'd need years of therapy like he did. He worried you'd turn to drugs like he did but he would make sure you didn't. He do anything to help you cope but he wasn't going to let you do anything to hurt yourself.

You woke up after a while, eyes heavy as they opened. "Hey, hey, I'm here," he could see the way your hand moved frantically in search of his. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly. Your eyes finally opened and were met by his. "I wanna go home," was all you said. Spencer nodded, "we'll be home soon." Was all he said. You nodded, turning your head with a soft groan. You looked out the window, it was sunny out. You missed the sun. "I was thinking.. when we get home.. we should book that beach trip." He said. You didn't smile this time though, the beach trip no longer brought you comfort. That was ruined by the unsub. "Or, you know what.. maybe no a beach trip. Maybe somewhere more cozy, secluded. Maybe the mountains?" He said. You turned to face him, furrowing your brows. "I know, I don't have good memories with secluded cabins but i think you could change that. A nice cozy cabin, the rain hitting the windows as we cuddle up by a fire. Watching movies, listening to music, reading books. How does that sound?" He asked. A smile formed on your face, "that sounds perfect," you whispered. "Good, then it's a plan. We can set it up when we get home." He said. "And the dog?" You asked. "We'll look into adoption, same with the cat." He said. You smiled, tears brimming your eyes. "I love you," you said. "I love you too," he responded. He leaned in, giving you a soft kiss, things were hard but you knew with him, you could get through it.

[kimstclair]

Game Night

Game night was in full swing, and the tension was palpable.

“C’mon, Amren, don't be a killjoy,” Cassian taunted, leaning back in his chair with a playful smirk.

Amren poured herself another glass of wine and dismissed him for the third time. “These games are bad for my nerves.”

“You know what?” Cassian insisted, grinning mischievously. “Let’s make a bet! If I win, you have to play two more rounds. If you win, I promise to make sure Rhys will take one more thought at the High King thing.”

Amren clicked her tongue with a smirk. “When Rhysand actually becomes High King, I promise I'll play as many stupid card games as you want.”

“Forget it, Cass, she’s already too old to enjoy life,” Rhysand teased. But before Amren could snap back, Feyre spoke up, stretching her arms out with a yawn.

“You can play, I'm kinda tired.”

“Oh no, darling,” Rhysand interrupted with a sly grin, “you were the one who wanted to play in the first place. I'm sitting this out.”

“Actually,” Azriel cleared his throat, “I have some reports to finish. You all go ahead.”

“For Mother’s sake,” Nesta said aloud, rolling her eyes. “You’re all so dramatic.”

She pushed her chair back and headed toward the door arc. “Where are you going, hon?” Cassian called after her.

“I’ll be back soon,” Nesta replied, already walking down the hallway.

–

Gwyn was engrossed in a new novel Emerie had lent her when Deirdre tapped her shoulder. “Clotho asked me to give you this.”

She handed over a note: You have a visitor.

Gwyn had two guesses as to who it might be, but refused to admit one of them made her heart skip a beat. She slipped out of her nightgown, threw on a casual robe, and headed toward the library.

Visitors weren’t allowed in the priestesses’ dormitory, so it wasn’t surprising to find Nesta waiting for her by Clotho’s desk, clad in an elegant dress.

“Is everything okay?” Gwyn asked.

Nesta’s face lit with a mischievous glint. “How good are you at cards?”

–

Back in the game room, the first round was underway.

“I swear!” Cassian shouted. “I felt Rhys inside my mind.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Cassian, that’s not a thing. You can’t feel when I’m using my daemati powers.”

“So you admit you used them!” Cassian snapped, looking triumphant.

“Let’s just start over,” Feyre suggested, barely holding back a laugh.

Azriel was holding his cards quietly, but Gwyn noted the faintest smile on his lips. She also noticed a card poking out of the collar of Rhysand’s robes and Cassian’s cards sprawled across the table, likely tossed in a fit of rage.

“That’s why I don’t play,” a small, black-haired female Gwyn recognized as Amren said, looking directly at her and sipping her wine.

Everyone at the table turned to look at Gwyn and Nesta standing by the doorway. Feyre greeted them with a warm smile.

"Just found the missing player for our game," Nesta announced proudly.

“Good to see you, Gwyneth,” Rhysand greeted with a smile.

“Good evening, High Lord,” Gwyn replied with a respectful bow.

“Please, call me Rhysand,” he grinned, his gaze twinkling with amusement. “Especially if we’re about to be rivals in a… intense match.”

–

Cassian, clearly frustrated, turned to Rhysand and Feyre. "You two can't be a team anymore; you're always communicating telepathically!"

Rhysand merely smiled. "Are we just too good for you, Cass?"

“Stop stalling, Rhys. Everyone here knows you and Feyre have an unfair advantage,” Cassian grumbled, crossing his arms.

Nesta, arms crossed and expression calculating, saw her chance. “Alright. Gwyn and I could pair up, and you four can rearrange yourselves.”

But after a pause, she reconsidered. “Actually… I don’t trust Azriel with any daemati,” she added, casting a look at Azriel, who merely raised an eyebrow in response. “He’ll do whatever it takes to win.”

Cassian laughed, then had an idea. “Fine, then let’s try this: Nesta and I split to join Rhys and Feyre. That way, we’ll keep them in check.”

Azriel sighed, his calm tone laced with faint exasperation. “Not that I have an issue with the pairing,” he said, his gaze sweeping the table, “but that arrangement would leave Gwyn and me at a disadvantage.”

Rhysand smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, Azriel. I promise I won’t be using… my shadows this time.”

Azriel’s expression didn’t shift, but there was a glimmer in his eyes. He glanced Gwyn’s way, eyebrow raised, daring her to react. She suppressed a smile, feeling the camaraderie—and something else, a subtle tension that she preferred not to examine too closely.

“I think they’re just scared, Gwyn,” Azriel murmured, his tone light yet challenging. “Looks like we’ll have to show them how it’s done.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Well, if you think you can handle it, Shadowsinger… I’m in.”

Cassian patted Rhysand’s back. “Looks like we’ve got a match! Let’s see if the shadow-and-singer duo can really take us on.”

Rhysand merely shrugged. “May the best team win.”

“Alright, you two can pair up, and I’ll take Nesta,” Feyre suggested. “Everyone take seats opposite your partners—no one sits next to their teammate.”

As they shuffled places, Azriel passed by Gwyn and leaned close. “Rhys and Feyre will try to read your mind, so keep it focused. And watch out for Cassian; he pretends to get more wine just to peek over at people’s cards.”

Gwyn only had time to nod as everyone settled in.

–

The game quickly spiraled into chaos. Cassian barely made it through the first hand before he got up to refill his wine. Gwyn recalled Azriel’s advice and turned her cards down as Cassian passed.

Rhysand eyed Feyre with suspicion. “You’re not cheating, are you, darling?”

Feyre raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Rhys, I’m hurt you’d even suggest that.”

Amren scoffed. “As if she needs to cheat to beat you.”

Nesta leaned toward Cassian, whispering, “Azriel’s plotting something. I’ll bet a bottle of wine on it.”

“Deal,” Cassian replied, grinning.

Not even halfway through the game, Rhysand suggested a pause. Everyone agreed readily.

“You know, Cassian, considering how many times you’ve refilled your glass tonight, I’d say you’ve had your breaks,” Azriel noted.

“If we’re talking suspicious behavior,” Nesta chimed in, “we could mention the shadows swirling around Azriel’s ears all night.”

Azriel didn’t flinch, though his expression sharpened with determination. Gwyn had seen that same look on his face in training—a readiness to do whatever it took to win. Across the table, Gwyn noticed the glances Rhysand and Feyre were exchanging. She leaned toward Azriel, whispering, “They’re in cahoots.”

Azriel nodded, his voice low and amused. “Who isn’t?”

Gwyn did notice the shadows slipping around her neck, weaving through her hair and peeking at her cards as the game progressed. It was as if Azriel always knew her move before she even played her card, his shadows acting like an extension of her thoughts.

“Feyre and Nesta have a tell,” she whispered to Azriel, leaning subtly toward him. “Whenever they’re holding a bad hand, Feyre always scratches her eyebrow.”

Azriel regarded her with sharp eyes, a faint glint of approval there. “Observant,” he murmured, taking a sip of his whiskey. “And nice work sneaking a look at Cassian’s cards.”

Gwyn flushed, but she couldn’t help a proud smile. It was true; whenever Cassian was too busy gazing at Nesta to notice anything else around him, she took the opportunity to steal a glance at his hand. It was almost too easy sometimes. She hadn’t known that Azriel had picked up on her tactic until now.

“Alright, back to business!” Nesta called, dealing another round.

Apparently, the other pairs had also used the break to regroup and adjust their strategies. Gwyn noticed it was much harder to get a peek at Cassian’s cards now, and Feyre had changed her signal—she now wrapped a lock of hair around her finger, subtly.

Azriel’s shadows were more elusive now, but she could still feel their presence, curling around her, discreetly hidden by her hair and cloak. She also noticed how the shadows played across Azriel himself, moving slowly over his arms, mingling with the tattoos on his biceps.

Gwyn refused to admit how well she knew the details of those tattoos, practically by heart. She tried to justify it as just the result of their countless training sessions together. Surely, she had to pay attention to her trainer’s movements, didn’t she?

Before she could refocus on the game, Gwyn caught Feyre watching her—and suddenly realized with horror that Feyre was reading her thoughts. Specifically, the thoughts about Azriel’s biceps: those sculpted muscles she had definitely admired a little too closely.

Their eyes met, and Gwyn’s went wide. Feyre quickly turned her attention back to her cards, clearly holding back a grin.

But Gwyn had no time to be embarrassed, as she felt Azriel’s gaze settle on her, waiting for her next move. He tilted his head, his dark eyes intense. “Gwyn?” he asked, as if urging her to return her attention to the game.

Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to look away from his arms, holding her cards ready to play.

From across the table, Amren smirked as she observed the scene. “You really think this game has anything to do with the cards, don’t you? Poor fools.”

“Oh, absolutely, Amren,” Feyre chimed in, playing along. “Everyone here is being perfectly honest.”

Nesta shrugged, giving an ironic smile. “If we were cheating, Cassian would have noticed. Isn’t that right?”

Cassian huffed. “Sure, because it’s so hard to see through your schemes.”

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “If you played half as well as you talked, Cassian, maybe you’d stand a chance.”

“You know I’m excellent at playing and talking at the same time, Nes,” Cassian retorted with a wicked grin, making his wife blush furiously.

To Gwyn’s surprise, she found herself laughing along with the others. The playful teasing between Cassian and Nesta didn’t make her feel out of place at all.

–

Several rounds later, Cassian threw his cards down, visibly frustrated. “Alright, it’s a tie. We need a tiebreaker.”

Feyre, a little tipsy, leaned toward him with a glint of mischief. “How about something more… physical?” She glanced at Rhysand, a grin spreading on her face. “Like… hide and seek?”

Amren scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, perfect. You just forgot your one year old son is sleeping right now. You don't need to play his games.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Azriel said.

“Of course not,” Cassian laughed. “You can melt into shadows.”

Gwyn, feeling more comfortable in the playful atmosphere, smirked. “Look, Azriel and I have been up against teams with telepathic powers all night without complaining. I think we can handle a little hide and seek.”

“Oh?” Cassian leaned forward, intrigued. “What’s your proposal, Miss Berdara?”

Gwyn smiled, her confidence unwavering. “Azriel and I will be seekers. If we find all of you within half an hour, we win. If anyone evades us, they win for their team.”

Everyone exchanged approving glances. Ignoring Amren’s disdainful mutter, the rest of them quickly warmed to the idea.

“That’s it for me. If you want to keep playing, so be it. But I’d rather head home,” Amren announced, rising to her feet.

“I’ll take Amren home, and when I’m back, Gwyn and I will start hunting for all of you,” Azriel offered, glancing at Gwyn with a hint of a smile.

–

Gwyn waited for Azriel on the balcony, her eyes tracing the city below. She admired the beauty of Velaris under the moonlight, feeling a pang of longing. She’d thought of visiting for the first time for a while now, and seeing it like this only strengthened that desire.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she only noticed Azriel’s presence when he landed softly beside her, making her jump. Azriel didn’t react much, though his lips twitched into a faint smirk as he stepped closer. “Ready to hunt?” he murmured, his voice low and almost playful.

She straightened, trying to look composed despite the sudden flutter in her pulse. “I think it’s better if we stick together,” she replied, her tone even, though her mind was anything but calm.

And so the game began. As they entered the house, Gwyn and Azriel noticed that most of the corridors were cast in deep shadow, with only a few torches flickering here and there, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. Gwyn decided to light a candle and carry it as they moved.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk on his lips. “Afraid of the dark?”

Gwyn laughed softly, holding the candle steady. “Not at all, Shadowsinger. But if we want to win this game, it might help if we don’t trip over our own feet.”

Moving like shadows, Gwyn and Azriel searched together, silent and in sync. As they crept through the hallways, Gwyn became acutely aware of the closeness between them—of Azriel’s steady, focused presence beside her.

Then, for a brief moment, they found themselves alone in a dim, quiet corridor. Azriel’s gaze lingered on her, deep and unreadable, and Gwyn’s heart raced as she met his eyes. There was a gravity in his look, something she couldn’t quite place, and she felt her own heartbeat quicken in response. But noises coming from upstairs got their attention and they headed towards it.

Finding Cassian and Feyre was almost too easily. Cassian’s attempts at stealth were practically nonexistent, and Feyre, slightly tipsy, clearly wasn’t taking the game seriously. They were both hiding in plain sight, sharing a quiet laugh in a poorly chosen corner. As soon as they were caught, Cassian shrugged with a laugh, slinging an arm around Feyre’s shoulders. “Guess it’s time for more wine,” he announced, leading her out of their hiding spot as they playfully bickered over whose hiding place had been worse.

Gwyn and Azriel moved on, stepping deeper into the house. Their path led them to Nesta’s personal library, where Azriel paused by the door. He glanced at the candle in Gwyn’s hand, then reached out to gently extinguish it.

“It’ll give us away,” he murmured, his voice low, his breath warm against her ear.

She shivered, barely managing a nod. “Good idea.”

Azriel leaned in close to her, his voice a whisper. “Let’s split up. You take the left side of the shelves. I’ll go right.”

–

As Azriel moved down his chosen aisle, he was impressed at how quiet Gwyn was, her footsteps nearly as silent as his own. His shadows flitted through the shelves, scanning for any sign of Nesta, though they hadn’t yet detected her presence. The only light in the library was the silvery glow of moonlight streaming in through a tall window at the end of the aisle, casting soft shadows that mingled with his own.

Azriel was nearing the end of the aisle when, suddenly, something crashed into his torso, and he stumbled back, landing on the floor with a muffled thud.

“Got you!” Gwyn’s triumphant whisper filled the silence.

“Gwyn?” Azriel murmured, surprised. She was perched on top of him, her hands wrapped around his torso. In the dim light, he could just make out her silhouette, her eyes reflecting the faintest hint of moonlight.

“I... I thought you were Nesta,” she breathed, her face mere inches from his.

“That’s alright,” he replied, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. He realized his hands had instinctively found their way to her waist when they fell—and he hadn’t moved them since. Neither had she.

They stared at each other in the dim glow, their breaths mingling in the quiet. But then, a movement broke the spell—a shadow darting toward the door.

“Nesta!” Gwyn leaped off him, sprinting toward the door just in time to block it as Nesta tried to slip through.

Nesta was slightly out of breath. “Alright, you got me. Mother above, Gwyn, you’re fast!”

–

“Looks like we’re winning,” Gwyn murmured, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Azriel held her gaze, and she felt that same magnetic pull she’d been fighting all evening. “Never celebrate victory too early. We’ll just have to keep playing to see who comes out on top.”

Gwyn pushed away the thought that she’d, in fact, been on top of him only moments ago. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her waist. But whether his words held hidden meaning, or if she was just reading too much into things… she honestly couldn’t tell.

–

“We’ve combed through this whole house!” Gwyn called out, finally abandoning all pretense of stealth.

Azriel leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he considered. “Rhysand wouldn’t hide somewhere obvious,” he said thoughtfully. “And he’d pick a place that’s clever, just to draw it out. He enjoys making people work for it.”

“What about the training ring?” she suggested. “Technically, it’s within the property, if we’re going by the rules literally.”

Azriel’s brows lifted in appreciation. “Good thinking.” They quickly made their way to the ring, but when they arrived, it was empty.

Gwyn let out a sigh, half frustration, half laughter. “Well, that was a waste.”

“Not entirely,” Azriel reassured, his lips curling. “It was a solid guess, Berdara.”

She studied him for a moment, then seemed to have an idea, her face lighting up with renewed energy. “Do you trust me?”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Yes.”

Without another word, she took his hand and pulled him along, sprinting through the house. As they ran, he pieced together where she was leading him: the balcony, where the game had started. It was exactly the sort of place Rhysand would find amusing.

They reached the balcony, but it, too, was empty.

Gwyn glanced at Azriel, cheeks flushed from their dash. “I’m sorry. I thought he’d be here as a kind of ‘full circle’ thing.”

“Don’t apologize,” Azriel said, his tone reassuring, though his eyes sparkled with faint amusement. “It was a good guess. Classic Rhysand—he’d totally…” He trailed off, then stepped forward, glancing over the balcony railing.

“Rhysand, you ridiculous bat, get up here!” Azriel shouted, shaking his head.

Gwyn heard a soft chuckle from below just before the High Lord soared up from beneath the balcony, laughter in his eyes as he landed.

–

Cassian was practically doubled over with laughter. “I can’t believe you hung upside down like a bat for half an hour.”

“Almost half an hour,” Azriel corrected, glancing at Gwyn. “We found him first. In fact, we found all of you before time ran out.”

“You two make a good team,” Feyre remarked casually, though the glance she sent Gwyn’s way hinted at her true thoughts.

“Well-deserved win,” Rhysand congratulated them. “Though, now it seems like you and Gwyn should face off for first place.”

“Oh, please, don’t start!” Nesta interjected. “Those two will be at it all night if we let them.”

“You’re right, Nes,” Cassian said, pulling her close with an arm around her waist. “Let’s save the grand finale for another night.”

Feyre and Rhys said their goodbyes before winnowing to the River House, and Nesta and Cassian prepared to return to their chambers.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Gwyn said, smiling.

“Oh, hon, you're welcome here anytime,” Nesta replied easily.

“Especially if you're about to beat Azriel’s ass in the next game night,” Cassian joked.

Azriel crossed his arms. “Don’t give her too much hope. Berdara might start thinking she actually stands a chance.”

“As if I’d ever back down from you, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn shot back, matching his tone.

“Save some of that teasing for morning training, you two,” Cassian muttered with a grin as he and Nesta left for their quarters, leaving Gwyn and Azriel standing side by side in the warm, quiet aftermath of the evening.

Azriel offered to escort Gwyn back to the library, and they started down the path together. The silence between them was comfortable but charged with a tension that seemed to grow with each step.

“It’s nice to see you all together like this,” Gwyn said, breaking the silence. “Do you do this often?”

Azriel took a moment to answer. “We used to, before... you know, Amarantha.”

Gwyn nodded, understanding. There was a beat of quiet before she spoke again. “About what happened in the library…” Azriel turned to look at her. “Sorry for, uh… tackling you.”

"That’s alright," Azriel replied simply. Gwyn thought she saw a small tremor at his lips, as if he was on the verge of saying something more, but instead, he simply continued walking beside her, steady and silent.

They reached the entrance to the library, which was now dark and empty, the other priestesses already asleep.

“Well, thank you, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze lingering for a second longer. “See you tomorrow, Berdara.”

[vodika-vibes]

Hey Vodika!

I hope you're feeling better. I don't know if you accept requests, but I'll leave this here. Could I ask for a story with Commander Neyo? The situation would be that Neyo is eavesdropping on her S/O's conversation with her friends. He hears her friends say that she should break up with Neyo because he is a harsh, cold, uncaring clone and that she will not be happy with him. Neyo hears this and is devastated. He knows he may not be the best when it comes to feelings, but he loves his S/O. His S/O finds him and learns that Neyo overheard the conversation. That's why she wants to do everything to prove to him that she loves him and wants to be with him no matter what. 💓

Take care of yourself!

People Who Matter

Summary: Neyo overhears a conversation between his cyare and her friends after returning home from a long deployment.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1082

Warnings: Toxic friends

A/N: Hi there! I do take requests almost constantly, even if it might take a bit for me to get to your request! I hope you like this!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist!

 Commander Neyo is an asshole.

He knows it. His men know it. His General knows it.

It’s a carefully cultivated persona that keeps his brothers from prying too much into his private life and keeps him from getting too close to men who probably won’t survive the year.

That might make him a cold person, but being raised to die in a war will do that to a man.

The one good thing in his life, the only good thing in his life, is his cyare.

So far as he’s concerned, she’s perfect in every way.

His cyare isn’t a Coruscant native. She’s from some small planet in the mid-rim and came to Coruscant for school. And, once she graduated, she just refused to return home.

He once asked why, late one evening, and she just laughed and told him that she was happy on Coruscant, happy with him, and she was not quite ready for the responsibility that came with returning home.

Neyo didn’t push at the time, and he still won’t push now, if she’s happy then that’s enough for him. Though a large part of him can’t quite understand why she’s so happy with someone like him. 

But, right now, he’s not going to question it.

Because her love for him means that he’s allowed to decompress from the war in an actual apartment, with a proper bed and an even better shower. Not to mention home-cooked meals and as many kisses as he could ever want.

Silently, Neyo keys in the code to the apartment that he half lives in, and he pauses in the doorway, just before he calls out to his cyare. He hadn’t warned her that he was returning early, wanting to surprise her, though now he feels like he should have.

Since the shoes piled at the door suggest that she has company.

He steps into the laundry room, which is right next to the front door, and tugs his armor off, setting it on the shelf that she bought for that very purpose. Then he peels off his blacks and pulls on the casual clothes that she leaves in the laundry room for this very scenario.

It’s not much, a tee shirt and dark red lounge pants, but to him, they’re more comfortable than the softest shimmersilk.

Only then does he step back into the hallway and head towards the living room. However, he stops before he opens the door.

He stops because he hears his name.

“So, the reason we invited ourselves over,” Neyo scowls at the comment and the voice. That is Nalia, his cyare’s oldest friend on Coruscant, and, in his humble opinion, the worst person in the galaxy. “We wanted to talk to you about Neyo.”

There’s no reply for a moment, and then his cyare speaks, “You want to talk about Neyo?” Her accent is thicker than it normally is, and Neyo knows without having to ask that her “friends” have been bothering her about things again.

“We do.” Another woman says. That’s Linly, another one of his cyare’s friends, though she most often plays the role of Nalia’s flying monkey. “I know that you love him.” She almost sounds concerned. Almost.

“You need to break up with him.” Nalia interrupts.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Listen, he’s cold and mean and uncaring and he’s only using you for your body—” Nalia lists.

“You don’t know him, at all.” His cyare counters flatly, “I’m not breaking up with him.”

“Look,” Linly interjects, “He is very handsome, but if it’s his looks you want, he has millions of identical brothers—”

“Enough.”

“He’s not good for you,” Linly continues, undaunted. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Neyo winces. As much as he loathes these two women…they’re right. He doesn’t deserve his cyare. He never has. She deserves someone as amazing as she is, and that’s definitely not him. 

He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, he shouldn’t be listening to this. This conversation isn’t for his ears. And he’s about he walk away, when his cyare replies.

“You don’t get to decide if someone deserves me or not.” Her voice is flat and unimpressed, “The only person who gets to decide that is me, and I’ve decided that Neyo is perfect for me. And now I’d like you to leave.”

“Look,” Nalia says with a sigh, “We’re not leaving until you agree to break up with him.”

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

Neyo decides that he’s heard enough, and he slides the panel door open and steps into the living room. Immediately, he feels bad for not interjecting earlier.

His cyare is pressed into the corner of the couch, her hands curled into fists, while her “friends” loom over her.

“She said she wants you to leave.” Neyo says flatly, throwing every ounce of “unimpressed Commander” into his countenance as he can.

“Neyo!”

His gaze flickers over to his cyare as she pushes between her friends and hurries to his side, her arms sliding around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. Neyo doesn’t bother to stop himself from lazily rubbing her back, pleased to have her against him again.

“You can leave,” Neyo says, his tone just on this side of polite, though the death glare he’s directing at them is enough to have them scurrying out of the apartment.

He doesn’t relax until the front door slides shut, and the lock automatically clicks into place. And then he’s wholly distracted by his cyare’s arms sliding around his neck.

“Welcome home,” Her smile is soft and small, and Neyo leans in to press his forehead against hers.

“Glad to be back,” He replies, his gaze scanning her face for any signs of distress, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” She shifts and lightly rubs her nose against his, “Just annoyed.” Her arms tighten around his neck, “They’re not right, you know?”

“About?”

“You not deserving me. You deserve everything and more.”

“I don’t want everything. I just want you.” Neyo counters with a small smile. “But you know, you could do better than me.”

“Never. Not in a million years.” She corrects, shifting once more to brush her lips against his.

Neyo doesn’t let her get away with that, pulling her closer so that he’s able to kiss her properly. “You need better friends, cyare.” He mumbles against her lips.

“A problem for later,” She replies as she tugs on the collar of his shirt, “I need to welcome you home now.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@trixie2023

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[sweetcheeksschemmenti]

Cat and Mouse

NSFW, 18+ only!

Melissa Schemmenti x f!OC

Warnings/tags: Porn, porn with little plot, orgasm denial, mommy kink, spanking,

WC: 6.3K

After months of Melissa toying with me and pushing me around, I had enough and told her so… so she punished me.

Notes: I never write smut, ever, but here we are! It is shameless Schemmenti porn. Please enjoy. 🫡

I started volunteering as Melissa’s aide a few days a week in August when I took a break from full time teaching, and after many months of playing into her games and being ridiculed for the smallest things, I was over it. It all came to a head one Friday after school when she asked me to stay to help with lesson plans, only for her to spend the entire time chastising me. “Honestly," she said with disgust, "How did you even get your teaching degree? They just hand that shit out these days? Like Oprah. You get a teaching degree, you get a teaching degree, everybody and their damn mother gets a teaching degree!"

My eyes went wide at the insult, but I refused to let her get the best of me, “Oh fuck off, Schemmenti.” I stood and found something in the corner to busy myself with, too tired to fight back like she wanted me to.

Melissa's eyes narrowed even further as she observed me attempting to distract myself. She set her cup of coffee down and leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms.

“You know, kid,” she said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice thicker than molasses, “If I wanted your lip, I’d get it off my zipper.” She smirked, relishing in the power imbalance she had over me.

I rolled my eyes and spat back at her, “Ha! That’s a damn joke. You wouldn’t be caught dead with a woman between your legs! You’re too afraid of what anyone might think. You play it cool, but inside… you’re just a scared little girl.”

Melissa let out a sharp laugh, enjoying the exchange far too much. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she pushed off from the chair, standing to her full height, now almost as tall as me. She crossed the room slowly and closed the classroom door, locking it, her heels clicking ominously as she made her way over to me. "Oh, my dear little mouse," she purred, "don't you worry your pretty little head about what happens between my legs." She gave me a wink that could only be described as predatory, a smirk still tugging at her lips as she added, “That’s way above your pay grade, hon.”

A shiver ran down my spine, I could feel a familiar pit in my stomach forming. I masked it by rolling my eyes and adjusting my stance. “They don’t pay me, Melissa.”

“And you’re worth every penny.” Her wicked grin grew.

“W-what’s your problem? Huh?” I snapped at her and turned my entire body to look at her. “What the hell did I do to piss you off so bad? All I do is come in, do what you ask, and go home.” I throw my hands up in frustration.

Melissa’s smirk widened even more as she noticed the slight stutter in my voice. Her demeanor softened slightly, but the hint of mockery remained in her voice. "Oh, sweetie," she said, a note of feigned pity lacing her words, "you're so naive, it's almost endearing." She paused, considering me for a moment before continuing, "The problem isn’t what you’ve done. It’s who you are- spineless, weak, and completely lacking a backbone- very similar to Janine. You’re basically a doormat."

The anger and hurt that had been brewing within for months finally exploded as I raised my hand and smacked Melissa across the face. “You will NOT treat me like this any longer. You understand? You are not my superior, we are supposed to be a team and all you do is treat me like dog shit. Just because I am soft does not mean that I’m weak, Melissa. That’s obviously something you’ve yet to learn…”

Melissa's head snapped to the side as my hand made contact with her cheek, a bright red handprint forming instantly. The smirk was gone from her face, replaced with a look of disbelief and outrage. She recovered quickly, though, slowly turning her face back to glare at me with fire in her eyes. Stepping closer, she hissed through clenched teeth, "Watch it, mouse. Who do you think you are, laying a hand on me like that? Don't think I won't knock you on your ass, newbie."

I stepped dangerously closer to her, anger radiating off of both of us. With that anger fueling my every move, Melissa braced herself for what might come. Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to give an inch despite the fury in my eyes.

"Go ahead," she taunted, her words sharp and biting. "Hit me again. See what happens."

I looked her over for a moment, noting that damned smirk that graced her lips. God, I just wanted to slap that look off her face again. Instead, I grabbed her face roughly and smashed my lips to hers in a hungry, passionate kiss. I wrapped a leg around one of her own, wanting to be as close as possible.

The redhead gasped in surprise, her mouth opening slightly as my lips crashed against hers. However, the gasps quickly turned into a low moan, the sudden passion catching her off guard. She stumbled back, the surprise of her reaction causing her to lose her footing for a moment. Her arms wrapped around my body, pulling me close as she returned the kiss with just as much hungry passion. One of her hands slipped downwards, grabbing a fistful of my ass and squeezing firmly as she lost herself in the moment. I reveled in the feeling of Melissas’s hand on my ass, my lips parting. She used the moment to dart her tongue into my mouth. One of my hands weaved itself into her hair to hold her in place while the other squeezed her breast as I thumbed over her already erect nipple over her thin bra.

At the feeling of my hand grabbing her breast, Melissa let out a sharp gasp, her body arching into my touch. She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes glazed with desire, and licked her lips as she panted heavily. "Careful, mouse," she warned, her voice gravelly. "You're playing with fire." Despite the warning, she made no effort to stop me, in fact she leaned forward, pressing her body against mine, her hand moved from my ass to my hip and pulled me impossibly closer.

“I can take the heat, kitten,” I hissed as I leaned in and sucked on the spot just above her collar bone, biting slightly.

At the nick of my teeth against her skin, Melissa let out a strangled moan. Her fingers dug into my hips at the pet name, and her head tilted, giving me better access to her neck as she surrendered to my touch.

"Don’t think this changes anything," she managed to gasp out, her voice catching slightly as she tried to maintain her usual bravado.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I whispered the words between panting and kissing the skin I had just bruised. Melissa's eyelids fluttered closed as I continued on my southward path, a shiver running through her body as my breath ghosted over her skin. She arched her back again, pressing her breasts against me, the tension between us growing thicker by the second.

"Cocky little thing, aren't you?" She managed to gasp, her voice raspy with arousal. "I’ll have to put you in your place, hon."

I pulled away from her grip completely and met her eyes. “Do it. I dare you, Schemmenti.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened, the challenge hanging heavy in the air between us. She loved a good challenge, and my defiant smile only fueled her competitive nature. Without warning, her hands found my wrists, swiftly pinning me against the wall, the sound of a soft thump echoed in the empty classroom, her chest heaving slightly with the effort. "You want me to put you in your place, hon?" She murmured in a low, sinful tone. "Be careful what you wish for."

I yelped at the force. She was so close and I became instantly drunk off of her perfume. “Fuck. Me,” I growled.

Melissa let out a low, guttural moan at my words, the sound went straight to the pit of her stomach, and it took all her strength to maintain her control.

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear as her body pins me to the wall, her hips rocking slightly against my own. "Do you know what happens to naughty girls who make demands?" She whispered, her voice laced with desire. Her lips found my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down to my exposed cleavage. I shook my head, unable to form words.

She grinned against my skin, as she continued to explore my sensitive spots. Her teeth graze against my earlobe, nibbling gently before she whispered, "They get punished, hon. And you've been nothing but naughty this whole time, haven’t you, little mouse?"

I couldn’t suppress the groan that erupted from within. “What are you gonna do, kitten? Spank me?”

She laughs a deep, throaty sound against your neck. Her lips continue their path back down to the crook of my shoulder, where she nips harder than before, her teeth making sure to leave a mark behind. "You’re so eager for it, aren’t you?" She whispered, her hand snaking up to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side. "You want me to put you over my knee, don’t you, little mouse?" My eyes fluttered shut for a moment as I drank in the moment and nodded in her hand.

Her hand tightened its grip on my chin, forcing my eyes back open, making sure I’m looking at her as she speaks. "Then say it." She commanded, her voice firm, but her eyes softened slightly. "Tell me you want me to punish you, baby."

I looked deep into her eyes, knowing just how I was going to unravel the woman. “I want you to punish me. I want you to bend me over your knee and spank me… mommy.”

Melissa’s lips parted in a soft gasp as the word ‘mommy’ spilled from my lips, her eyes momentarily filled with surprise as she felt a familiar wetness grow between her thighs. The look was gone within an instant, replaced by a heated look of hunger. "Oh, you’re playing dirty, aren’t you, baby?" She murmured, her voice taking on a lower, huskier tone. "You know just how to get me all worked up, don’t you, little mouse?"

I grinned wickedly at her as she dragged me over to her desk before she sat down. Melissa’s hands gripped my hips, positioning me over her lap and lifting my skirt, her eyes taking in the exposed skin of my ass. She could already feel a heat pooling in her belly as she looked at me, completely at her mercy. “You look so pretty like this, little mouse,” she purred, her hands caressing my skin. “I hope you know you’re in for a good, thorough spanking.”

I could feel myself getting wetter by the second. I rubbed my thighs, searching for friction as I waited for the spanking “Mmmmhm. I’ve been so bad for you, mommy,” I hummed.

Melissa’s eyes flicked down, noticing the way my thighs subtly rubbed together. She bit her lower lip, watching me like a predatory cat. "That’s right, baby. You’ve been a very bad girl," she murmured, her hand leaving my hip to trail upwards, tracing the curve of my spine. "And bad girls get spanked."

She brought her hand up and spanked my ass twice, gauging my reaction.

I let out a small gasp, my body jolting a bit on her lap as Melissa’s spank landed on my skin. The surprise quickly gave way to a low moan as I got used to the sting. Melissa watched my reaction closely, noting how I flinched and squirmed on her lap as the initial shock wore off. Her hand came down again, striking your my cheek, a bit harder this time. I rubbed my thighs together with each new smack, getting off on the punishment alone. “Mmm, fuck,” I breathed.

As the spanking continued, Melissa picked up on the growing desperation in my movements. Her hand connected with my ass again, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in the empty classroom. "You really like this, don’t you, little mouse?" She moaned, her voice taking on a huskier tone. "You getting off on being punished by mommy?"

Her voice gave me butterflies. I’d never touched or been touched by Melissa before this, but it was my new favorite thing. “I do, you make me so wet, spanking me soooo good.”

Melissa’s hand came down hard on my ass once more, the firm smack sending a fresh wave of pleasure shuddering through my body. She let out a sharp exhale, watching as my body responds to her every touch. She growled again, her voice a low, sultry rumble, “You’re enjoying yourself a little too much, aren’t you, naughty little thing?”.

Melissa’s hand glided over my stinging skin, her touch a mix of gentle and firm. Her fingers ghosted over the curves of my ass, a light graze that’s hardly a touch. "I think you’ve had enough spanking for now," she murmured, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "But that doesn’t mean I’m done with you yet, mouse." She prodded me off of her lap and I followed direction.

I rose from her lap, my body slightly shaky from the combination of the spanking and the thrill of submitting to her. Melissa grinned, enjoying the effect she had on me. "Get on your knees, baby," she commanded, her eyes dark with hunger. I again listened to instruction and got on my knees.

Melissa watched me as I sank to the floors, my submission making her heart race. She moved so that she was only inches from me, her body almost towering over me. Her fingers found my chin, tilting my head up to look at her.

"That’s better," she purred, her other hand tangling in my hair, her fingers grasping the strands and tugging gently. “You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby.”

I looked up at her as she pulled my hair, eyes rolling back in my head slightly with the pleasure, moaning a little too loud. Melissa let out a low, sultry laugh as she watched the effect her actions on me. The sound of my moaning pleasure was music to her ears, fueling the fire burning deep inside her.

"Look at you, all desperate and needy," she whispered, her fingers wrapping tighter in my hair as she uses the strands to tilt my head back even further. "You love it, don’t you? Love being controlled by me."

I panted harder, absolute putty in her hands, “Yes mommy, I love being your little mouse, the way you play with me makes me feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes darkened even further, feral hunger taking over her composure. She used her grip on my hair to pull my head further back, exposing the expanse of your neck to her.

"Oh, I know you do, little mouse," she replied, her voice taking on a low, dangerous tone. "You’re practically dripping for me, aren’t you?" Her free hand suddenly reached out, gripping my throat, her fingers wrapped just tight enough to create a delicious pressure.

My eyes rolled back again as I leaned into her hand on my throat.

Melissa watched me closely, admiring how willing and pliable I was in her hands. The sound of my moans, the arch of my body as I leaned into her grasp, it only made her want to tease and taunt me further. "You really are a naughty thing," she whispered, her fingers applying a slight squeeze to my throat. "So desperate, just aching for my touch."

I reached forward and unbuttoned her pants then grabbed ahold of her hips and pulled her forward. Face to face with her crotch, I found her pants zipper and grabbed it with my teeth, pulling it down. “God I want you so bad, kitten.”

Melissa let out a gasp as I unbuttoned her pants, her body moving forward almost involuntarily. She looked down, her eyes watching as you pull the zipper down with your teeth, the sight sending a shiver up her spine. "Aren’t we eager," she comments, her voice slightly breathless. Her fingers once again tangle in your hair, guiding you forward as she speaks. "Go ahead then, baby. Have a taste."

I pulled her underwear down along with her pants in one tug. “Mmmm, I see the carpet matched the drapes,” I giggled as I took in the sight of her bare in front of me.

Melissa let out a low chuckle as she stepped out of her clothing, eyes never leaving me for a second. "Of course it does, little mouse," she laughed, her fingers still holding your hair in a firm grip. "And you’re just about to get a very close up look, aren’t you, hon?"

I smiled up at her, hunger in my eyes. I caressed her inner thigh before venturing further to her core. I dipped my fingers into her folds and moaned at what I found. “Oh mommy, you’re so wet for me,” I breathed in a sultry tone.

Melissa moaned aloud, the touch causing her to let out a shuddering breath. And when I moved my fingers between her folds, the sensation combined with my moan caused her to grip tighter on my hair, pulling my face closer to where she needed me most.

"Mmm, baby, you have no idea just how worked up you’ve made me," she whispered, her voice thick with want.

“God, you’re so hot, kitten,” I groaned. I took the direction to lean forward, and with a flat tongue I licked the sweetness that built up from out little game.

Melissa’s grip tightened further on my hair, her knuckles going white as I begin tease her entrance and begin circling her clit with a pointed tongue. Her hips jerked forward towards my mouth instinctively, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "God, you’re such a good little mouse," she moaned, her breathing already going ragged. "Don’t you dare stop, baby."

I hummed against her, “You taste so good, mommy. So sweet for me.”

My tongue’s contact with her sensitive spot caused a full-body shudder to wrack her frame. A guttural, animalistic moan escaped her throat as she rocked her hips forward, desperate for more of my touch. "Oh, baby, you’re doing so well. Feels so good," she gasped, her breathing becoming more laboured with each passing moment. "Keep going, keep going, please…"

I smiled at her words. Her little red curls tickled my nose as I sucked and licked harder and faster, looking up at her through lashes to watch her face. Melissa’s head fell back as I increased my pace, her grip on my hair becoming almost painfully tight. Her eyes fluttered shut as the sensations washed over her, the combination of my tongue and lips driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Oh God, darling, don’t stop, don’t stop," she moaned, her voice ragged and desperate. Her hips rolled forward, seeking more of my touch, desperate to reach the peak. "Just like that… oh just like that…"

I continued to work on her clit, but made eye contact and wiggled two fingers at her in a come hither motion, a questioning look in my eye. She nodded her want and guided my free hand to her entrance. I covered my fingers in her juices once more and entered her with full force.

Her body tensed as you entered her, the unexpected force making her gasp harshly. Her chest heaved as she gripped a new handful of my hair, her teeth biting her lower lip as she adjusted to the sudden fullness.

"Oh God, that’s it, baby. Mmmm fill mommy up," she moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. "Keep going, oh don’t you dare stop now…". Melissa let out another low moan as I continued to pump my fingers within her, her grip on my hair growing tighter by the second. Her breath came in ragged breaths, her body trembling with pleasure.

"God, yes, darling," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "You feel so good… you make me feel so good."

Her body became taut as a bowstring, every muscle tense as she edged closer and closer to release, holding my face to her center as she rides the waves of pleasure. "Oh God, I’m so close, baby," she said in a desperate whisper. "Keep going, just a little more… oh just a little more…"

With her words of encouragement, I flicked my tongue faster over her clit and found just the right spot inside to make her come undone. Her legs began to shake and I knew she was ready. “Come for me, kitten.”

Her body tensed even further as I fucked her faster, harder, her muscles coiled as tight as a spring. And then, with a loud, guttural moan, she finally succumbed to the pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. "Oh God… oh God… yes, that’s it baby," she gasped, her eyes closed and her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh… oh… yes, oh yes… oh yes, yes, yessss…" I caught her as she lost the ability to stand upright, gently bringing her down to my level. “Fuck, Mel, that was hot,” I muttered between panting.

She collapses into my arms, her body boneless and trembling. She let out a low, throaty laugh as she leaned against me, trying to catch her breath.

"That… that was incredible, hon" she managed between gasps from the aftershocks. "You are too damn good at that." I kissed her temple gently, the first gentle act since the whole thing started.

Melissa leaned further into my touch, her body still trembling slightly as she came down from the high of her release. Her eyes fluttered shut as my lips brushed her temple, a small smile on her lips. "I don’t remember the last time I’ve come that hard," she said, her voice still a bit shaky. "You really know how to push my buttons, don’t ya, kid?"

I winked at her and kissed her lips. “Just as you know how to push mine… I’m still dripping for you, mommy…”

Melissa let out a sultry chuckle as she kissed me back. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, tasting herself on my lips. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer as she pressed her body against mine. "Mmhm. I know you are, little mouse," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. "And I intend to take care of that problem."

I moaned as her tongue darted into my mouth again. Melissa’s grip on me tightened as she adjusted her position over me. She broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting our lips as she grinned down at me. "Oh, darling, there are so many things I could do to you," she purred, her hand slowly trailing down my body. "But for now, I want to see you undone, just like I was."

Her hands on my body felt like fire and I wanted more. I tore my shirt off and pulled down my skirt. “I’m not far from it, kitten.” Melissa’s eyes roamed over my body as I removed my clothes, her gaze dark with hunger. She took a moment to admire the sight of my body, before she reached up to caress my bare skin with her hands.

"God, you’re just as gorgeous as I dreamed you would be," she hummed, her voice filled with awe. Her fingers traced the lines of my curves, her touch gentle and yet possessive.

I cocked my head and gave her a confused smile. “You’ve dreamed about me? About this? I thought you hated me,” I half whined.

Melissa chuckled, her fingers continuing their journey across my skin. There was a hint of amusement in her tone as she answered me. "Oh hon, I don’t hate you. I never hated you," she said, her voice soft. "It’s more like you pushed all my buttons and got under my skin. But let me tell you, there’s a fine line between rage and desire. Seems like you found it." Melissa captured my neck in a love bite, caressing my breast with one hand and my ass with the other. She moaned against my skin as she tasted me, her tongue gliding over the now-marked flesh. My entire body shivered with want and she grinned against my neck as she felt your reaction, her grip on you strong and possessive. My head fell back as I gave myself completely over to her.

Melissa’s tongue followed the line of my neck down to my collar bone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. She pulled me closer, her body pressed completely against mine as her hands continued to caress and explore. "You’re doing so well, baby girl," she mumbled against my skin, her voice thick. "Just relax." Melissa maneuvered her thigh between my legs and I immediately rolled my hips down.

The redhead let out a moan as my wetness dripped down onto her thigh, her own body responding to the action. Her hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as she watched me move against her. "Oh, mouse, you’re so responsive," she purred, her voice low with desire. "You’re already begging for it, aren’t you?" I bit my lip and nodded sharply

“I need you mommy, I want you inside me,” I growled, sending electric waves down her spine.

Her eyes flashed with desire as I bit admitted my need. She grinned wickedly as she responded, her hands running up and down my back.

"Such an impatient little mouse," she murmured. "But who is mommy to deny you what you want? Just be careful what you wish for, baby." Melissa snaked her hand down to my core and thumbed over my aching clit with ease.

I hissed in pleasure at the contact if been waiting for, “Yessssss mmmm…”

She watched my face as she touched me, a smug grin on her lips as she saw the effect she had on me. "Does that feel good, little mouse?" she purred, her voice lower than usual. "You like it when mommy takes care of you?"

I bucked my hips further into her hand, leaving her palm wet, again unable to form words. Her hand remained firmly against me, her thumb continuing to tease my sensitive spot. She smirked as she felt the evidence of my desire on her palm, and she increased the pressure of her touch. "You’re so eager for me, baby," she husked, her voice thick with arousal. "I can feel how much you need this. How badly you want me to take care of you, right here, right now."

I groan loud, needing more, “Inside, please.” Melissa’s smirk widened at my plea, satisfaction coursing through. She pulled me closer, her lips just a breath away from my own.

"What do you want inside, baby?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “I need to hear you say it."

I looked into her eyes, hungry for release. “I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your fingers until you make me come.”

A low groan escaped Melissa at my words, her body responding to my need. Her hand slid lower, her fingers teasing at my entrance. She captured my face with her other hand, her grip firm as she forced me to meet her gaze. "You’re being so good for me, little mouse." Melissa’s fingers at my entrance drove me wild. I’d been on the edge of an orgasm since the first kiss, I was so sensitive and ready for her. I moaned and bucked, writhing under her touch. “Please please please, I need y-” I gasped as she filled me with two fingers. “F-f-fuck I’m already so close, you feel so good.”

Melissa’s eyes nearly went black with lust, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she took in the sight of me. She ran the fingers of her other hand down my cheek, her touch gentler now. "Oh no, hon. You don’t get to come just yet," she husked, her voice low and raspy. "Not until I say so. So be a good little mouse and hold on for me."

I nodded, holding in my release as she inserted a third and final finger, filling me up completely. “OH! Ohhhh yessss yes yes!”

She watched my face, taking in every expression and whimper. Her tone still commanding, yet also soothing she says, "That’s it, little mouse, hold it for me," her breath warm against my skin. "Just a bit longer. You’re being so good for me. I know you can do this." She pumped her fingers at just the right speed, hitting that spot just right.

“Mel, I’m so c-close,” I whined, my face scrunching in focus.

Melissa kept her pace and angle, hitting the spot repeatedly as she watched me grow closer and closer to the edge. Her face flushed, and her own breath now came in pants as she worked me towards release. "Just hold on a little longer, baby," she whispered. "You’re doing so well. You feel so tight and hot around my fingers, so good. Just a few more moments, and then I’ll let you come. Just a few more moments, I promise."

Her words drove me crazy, the heat building up was almost too much to bear. I leaned down and bit her shoulder, using it as a distraction to keep me from going over the edge without permission. “Mmmmm-mommy please,” I begged as I rode her fingers.

Her breath hitched as I bit down on her shoulder, the sting of pain adding to her arousal. "Not yet, little mouse," she growled, her voice gruff and commanding. "You’re being such a good girl, but you have to wait for my permission. Just a little longer. Almost there." Melissa felt my body tensing, sensing just how close I was to release.

My eyes rolled back and I almost went limp in her arms. Melissa watched as I grew more boneless, my body riding her fingers more on instinct than anything else. "That’s it, baby girl, ride them just like that," she whispered, her voice thick with lust. "You’re being so good for me. But not yet. Not yet. Just hold on a little while longer."

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh mommy, please let me come, I can’t hold it anymore,” I cried as her thumb met my clit again.

Melissa looked up at my face, her own expression filled with need and awe at the control I exerted over my body. She knew she’d pushed me to the limit. She grinned, her eyes roaming over my body. "You’ve been such a good little mouse," she said huskily . "You’ve held on for so long. You’re so good. So desperate. I think you’ve earned permission now, don’t you?" All I could do was gasp and moan in response.

She knew I’d held on as long as I could, and she wasn’t going to make me wait anymore. "Come for me, baby girl," she ordered, her voice firm. "You’ve earned it, mouse. Let go. Now."

My orgasm washed over me with an intensity I’d never experienced before, and it felt even better knowing Melissa Schemmenti got me there. “OHHH fuck! Oh yes! Yes yes yessss! Mmmm oh God, Melissa!” I trembled and shook as I collapsed in her arms, completely out of breath.

Melissa watched as I let go and held me close as I came down, her eyes wide with awe at the intensity of my release. The feel of me trembling and shaking against her brought a smug grin to her face, her own arousal ramping up again at the sight of my pleasure. "That’s my good little mouse," she cooed, placing gentle kisses on my cheek and in my hair. "You came so hard for me, I’m so proud of you."

“Good God, Melissa,” I said between pants, still coming down from my high, “holy shit.”

Melissa held me tight as you rode out the aftershocks of my orgasm, her arms wrapped around me as I come back down to earth. She chuckled softly as she listened to my shaky breaths and shaky voice. "That good, huh?" she teased, her voice smug. "I guess that means you enjoyed yourself."

I lifted my head from her shoulder and looked at her through half lidded eyes, “I don’t think I can ever fuck anyone else now.”

Melissa smiled at my words, her eyes roaming over my face. Her hands moved across my back as she watched me catch my breath. "Well, I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that," she husked, a smug grin on her lips. "After all, I don’t like sharing my toys."

My eyes closed as I smiled at her remark. “Kiss me?”

Melissa chuckled at my request, her lips curving up at the corners. She cupped my face with one hand and drew me closer, her eyes locking with my own as she leaned in. "Since you asked so nicely," she said, her voice low and sultry. And then her lips were on mine, claiming my mouth in a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, a sharp contrast to the entirety of our escapade.

I glanced at the clock as our lips parted. “Think we should get outta here? I’m sure Mr. Johnson’s been ready to lock up for a while now.”

Melissa hums, her eyes still closed as she savored the sweetness of the kiss. When she finally opened them, she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right," she said with a soft chuckle. "We should probably head out. But we're definitely resuming this back at my place."

There was a flash of hunger in both of our eyes and I licked my lips. “Oh yeah? Then let’s get goin’.” I tossed her her pants and got myself dressed, straightening my hair and smeared makeup in the reflection of the window.

Melissa laughed as she caught her pants and quickly pulled them on. She watched me tidy myself up, a satisfied smirk on her face. She could tell I was eager to get back to her place, and she felt the same way. "Can’t believe you’re still trying to make yourself presentable after what we just did," she teased.

I blushed a deep red. “Not for you, just in case we happen upon Mr. Johnson on the way out!” I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her again.

Melissa smiled against my lips, enjoying the feeling of being in my arms. She wrapped her own arms around me, pulling me close as she kissed me deeply. "You’re adorable," she mumbled when the kiss ended, her eyes flicking over to the door. "And smart. Let’s get out of here before Mr. Johnson catches us."

I giggled like a schoolgirl and grabbed her wrist, “C’mon, kitten! We have things to do.”

The redhead followed me out into the hallway, her hand in mine. The nickname "kitten" made her heart flutter, and she matched my pace easily as we headed towards the car."You're in a rush, aren't you?" She teased as she glanced at me, a sly smile on her lips. "Can't wait to get me home and all alone, huh?"

I bit my lip and gave her a mischievous grin. “God Mel, I’m already dying for round two.” I winked at her and we rounded the corner to see Mr. Johnson standing there with his mop in hand, staring us down.

Melissa's eyes went wide as we came face to face with Mr. Johnson. As he stood there it became increasingly obvious he knew what happened in that classroom, and he was not mincing words. "Out a little late tonight, aren't we ladies?" he asked gruffly, his eyes moving from you to Melissa and back again. Both of our faces matched Melissa’s hair in that moment.

“$50 and you tell no one, Mr. J…” I offered, hoping to save us from some embarrassment in the teachers lounge.

Mr. Johnson considered it for a moment, his expression stern. Then he let out a small laugh and extended his hand. "$50 and my lips are sealed," he said. "But this better not become a regular occurrence, you hear me?"

I took my wallet out and handed him a crisp $50 bill, then mock saluted him. “Yes sir!”

Mr. Johnson pocketed the bribe money and nodded at me in acknowledgement. He turned his gaze to Melissa, his expression still stern. "You’re a terrible influence, Schemmenti," he huffed. "That poor girl didn’t stand a chance."

Mr. Johnson watched as Melissa tried to suppress her laugh, his eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. He shook his head and pointed his mop in her direction. "You’re a menace," he grumbled. "Now get outta here before I change my mind about keeping quiet."

I pulled Melissa’s arm and started walking very quickly to the exit. “Thanks, Mr. J! See ya Monday!” We didn’t stop until we got to Melissa’s car.

“The whole school is gonna know, aren’t they,” I asked as I buckled into the passenger seat.

Melissa cackled, her face still red with embarrassment. "Oh, absolutely," she replied. "Mr. Johnson couldn’t resist the bribe money, but he’s definitely the biggest gossip at Abbott. They’ll probably know by breakfast tomorrow, and if not then by Monday morning guaranteed.” She settled into her seat and started the car as she buckled in. I gave her a look of disbelief.

“You coulda told me and saved me $50! You so owe me, Schemmenti!” I smacked her arm and then placed my hand on her thigh, squeezing slightly.

“Definitely thinking of ways I can make it up to you…,” Her pupils dilated as she took my hand in hers. My head fell back in another laugh.

“Then step on it, Jeeves!”

[kpopscruggles]

had to write something, its like 1200 words ngl.

was also foaming at the mouth writing this.

To say that getting ready for this date was stressful as is, but knowing I was going to the fanciest restaurant in the city because he refused to just fuck me really made this more weighted on my shoulders. He was a nice guy, on call his voice was smooth, even the simple kiss he gave through the speaker before he would hang up. Facetime he always had a sweet smile as he sat on his bed or couch, drinking the simple glass of Jack because he refused to let the money steal him from his favorite whiskey. The simple chain he wore around his neck, the silver clashing with the warm tone of his semi tan skin. He was a full course meal is what he was. 

Walking into the restaurant a soothing wave hit me in the aura of the dimly lit room. “You made it, sorry I couldn’t come and grab you...” I turned immediately after hearing the voice. A small smile still on his face as his hand reached to hold mine before giving it a small kiss. Treating my hand as if it was so delicate it would just shatter. “Hope the drive here wasn’t dreadful for you”. 

“Easily not.” I assured myself before smiling “I mean c'mon Jay, I told you with everything you're doing I wouldn’t mind at least driving myself here. He smiled before telling the host his last name, meanwhile I was busy staring at him, the dress shirt slightly showing his collarbone, the dress pants that were hugging him a little around his hips and crotch. He was packing, I knew it. I just knew he could fuck me so good...make me a drooling mess. Make me a slut, his slut.  

The dinner went well, the wine easily hitting me though as I now couldn’t even hold a conversation without giving him the nastiest compliments. I knew the wine had taken him too, his responses spilled it all. “You're a teasing little thing, aren't you?” I didn't respond, I just gave him the soothing smile I had had. “I asked you a question, I don't take action for an answer” he chuckled softly before pouring him another glass. His Adams apple bobbed slightly as he took a sip of the dark red liquid.  

My heel slowly running up his ankle “I don’t think so, usually I’m not at least...just doing it now because I want you...” I added with begging eyes as I watched the smirk grow on his face. My cunt growing wetter, by begging hole tightening around nothing just thinking about him ruining me. I knew when I first seen Jay, I knew I needed him to fuck me like he hated me. The toy in my bedside gave me no pleasure when he clouded my mind. He was just my only thought. 

The drive here that’s all I could think about, no matter how wet I was I just wanted to feel that warm tingling sensation from my cunt as he would make it fit. How I imagined the sweat on his skin pounding into me relentlessly. How his moans would make me shiver, I knew he was a groaner, I could feel it. How he’d praise me while fucking me like a worthless bitch, that was all in my mind. I would get on my knees and cry tonight if I wasn’t gonna feel his cum inside me. 

Snapping back into reality I felt him reach for my ankle “I’m gonna treat you like such a slut tonight, that’s what you want isn’t it?” I felt him move my leg to my foot landing against his bulge. Taking a deep breath, I nodded while nibbling on my bottom lip "You gonna stay my slut forever? If I feel you with me cum your mine...” he whispered. I nodded obediently. Whatever Jay wanted I was going to do it and that was the final. 

----- 

The drive back, the elevator ride, everything took forever till we finally found his front door. I heard the click as it unlocked, his lips attached to mine immediately. Back hitting the arm of a sofa causing me to yelp for just a moment. I watched the male kneel in front of me. His eyes staring down at me causing a shiver to run up my spine.  

His lips down running against my ankle as he takes the heels from my feet. Moans leaving him as he kissed my skin as he was soon reaching my knee. My body grow hot as if I had never been touched before. His fingers reaching up and hooking onto my panties before pulling them down my legs. Running up to my thigh he groaned “You smell amazing, but I'll get a taste of you in the morning, right now take that dress off and turn over. 

Rushing just like that, I did everything he asked before bending myself over the arm of the sofa. I yelled a little feeling him push me a bit forward, my hips risen from the sofa arm. My ass right in his view. “Such a sexy girl~” my teeth sunk into my bottom lip immodestly as I felt the sting once he slapped my ass. My eyes rolling back as I was waiting patiently for his cock. 

A sinful moan leaving me once I felt it, the feeling my cunt had been waiting for. The feeling of his cock stretching my cunt as he slowly seeped into me. “Fuck!” I hissed once feeling him pull out just to slam back into me. I heard a breath leave him as he started slowly rocking his hips. His tip hitting right at my cervix that was already begging to take his cum. 

My body becoming a mess, the sounds of my gummy walls as he pushed in and out of me, the reflection from the window decent enough for me to see the ring of my creamy substance around his cock. “So, fucking wet Angel~” he groaned before picking up his pace. Now so close to ruining me as I felt my lower half growing numb besides him ruining my insides.  

My body jolted with each thrust he made. Loud cries that echoed the whole apartment once he reached just enough to grip my hair. Sucking in breathes, chest starting to heave, his hands now making marks once they left my hair and scratched down my back. “Fuck I'm gonna cum! And you're gonna take it aren't you? You're gonna be my little cum dump?” He chuckled. Meanwhile I just nodded, I couldn't say anything. 

Feeling myself come undone I couldn't hold it any longer. My eyes droopy, saliva dripping from the side of my mouth as I took the last few thrusts before feeling his warm cum fill me. A smile on my face with each spurt of cum that left his cock. “Fuck fuck fuck~” he groaned, gripping my ass to steady himself from the trembling release. He came isnide me, I was his.  

[fun-k-board]

Ok, so I'm in the wrong, I don't know how I messed that up.

I was asking if you could write, How Black Cat from the Playstation Spider Man games would kiss her lover.

MARVELS SPIDER-MAN - Black Cat kissing her gender neutral S/O

Note(s): Don't worry it's alright! I hope I did her justice (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) I also hope you like the little story I added at the end.

Felicia will tend to get more affectionate, if that's even possible, when she wants a kiss from you. It takes her a while of teasing to say it outright of course, it's only in her nature to toy with her food until she's dissatisfied with the length of time it's taking to feast.

She loves to hold your hand, wrap an arm around your waist and kiss your neck first, perhaps give a small bite to your collarbone or wrist, refusing to give even a peck to your lips for what feels like hours.

When you're finally at your wits end, begging and pleading for an ounce of attention to your mouth, that's when she gives you what you both desire the most.

Felicia's kisses are normally very gentle, she treats you like how she treats those precious gemstones that she just loves to steal, grabbing you roughly and snatching you up, yet holding you so far above just a simple object because you're not her possession, she's not your owner, you're her lover, her partner, and it shows when she gives you her sweet, long kisses. She never just kisses your lips, as she could never stick to only loving one part of your body.

She starts at your hands, running up your arm, to your shoulder, neck, then your cheek and your ear, whispering into them her filthy yet somehow sweet words. Only then, and only then, she finally gives you that kiss to your lips. Her eyes flutter closed as they brush against yours, her complete and utter adoration for you is clear as day.

Felicia's hands never leave you, grabbing your hips or waist to keep you still, to have her claws so close to digging into your body, yet never fully doing so, never hurting you, never dreaming of causing you pain, only to hold you.

But when she wants them to be, they can be rough, longer lasting, typically only when she's stressed or feeling more passionate. That's when she uses tongue, pushing you against the wall, her hands attacking your body with her dangerously passionate touches, even squeezing your thighs and hips as harsh as you'll allow to make you squirm with pleasure.

You're painfully aware of how flirty Felicia is, every interaction has her hands wander over every inch of your body and her smooth words dripping over you like honey. Because of that, how well you know her, how well she knows you, it doesn't take either of you too long to realise what exactly she wants.

She eyes you from across the room for a moment, as if a hawk studying a lost mouse, slowly, she approaches, black heels clicking on the ground like a warning. Her hand reaches out to lightly brush against your own, her lips begin to curl into a devious smirk, one she always wears when she's up to something. Felicia leans close and whispers into your ear.

"Your lips, they look so appetising." After she sees you shiver in anticipation Felicia's hand gently runs up your arm, leading to your shoulder. For a moment, and only for a moment, she pauses, only to grab your shoulder and yank you closer.

"Can I have a taste?"

[horanghaejamjam]

Too Late To Apologize - {JWW}

↪  Summary: They say you don't know what you have until you've lost it. Unfortunately, Wonwoo has to learn this the hard way.

↪   Pairings: Wonwoo x Female Reader

↪   Rating: PG

↪   Genre: Angst / Slight Fluff

↪   Word Count: 5.1k

↪ Warnings/Contents: Unresolved fight, Description of car crash and aftermath. Not too detailed but please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

↪ Side Notes: A little something for y'all while I finish editing Horanghae! This was a past commission for a lovely anon. Thank you to them for their support and request for this story. My commissions are open and you can find more info in my pinned post if you are interested in getting your own!

↪ Click here to see my other Seventeen stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

The kitchen was eerily quiet, so quiet that the only sounds you could make out were that of the dishwasher draining and your own foot tapping impatiently against the tiled floor. Every thirty seconds or so you would glance down to check the time on your phone, wishing that the dreaded clock would freeze or turn back in time. It was 11:45 pm, fifteen minutes away from midnight. Even worse, it had been almost three hours since your fiance said he would be home. The nice dinner you had made for the both of you had gone cold a long time ago, yours half eaten while his plate was perfectly untouched. You wanted to get up and throw everything out, but your emotions were keeping you trapped in your seat.

You didn’t want to be mad at Wonwoo, you knew that he worked hard and being kept late wasn’t his fault, but it was hard to contain the anger boiling inside you with every passing minute. You had practically begged him to be home by nine, saying that you wanted to make a special dinner and have a nice night with just the two of you. The two of you hadn’t been able to spend time together since he was on tour, and the second he got back he threw himself into working on their next album. You tried to support him, making sure the house was clean, all the chores were done, and even making sure to make him lunch every morning before work because you knew he wouldn’t remember to do it himself. You even did most of the wedding planning since Wonwoo had been too busy to attend any of the meetings. Even when he could, he always seemed indifferent or uninterested and left all the final decisions up to you which added even more pressure. All of this on top of working your full time job so he wouldn't be the sole breadwinner in the relationship. It felt like you did everything for him and yet he couldn’t even dedicate a few hours of his time to you. One night, that was literally all you asked for. One night where the two of you could sit down, have dinner, and actually act like a couple who's getting married in a few months. You really didn’t feel like you were asking for much, and the more you thought about it, the harder it got to hide how hurt you were. Part of you was starting to think that Wonwoo didn’t care, that he would rather be married to his job than you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally forced yourself to stand up from your spot at the table, accepting that he wasn’t coming home. You scraped the remainder of your dinner into the trash and wrapped up Wonwoo's so that he could heat it up whenever he decided to come home. As you were clearing the table and getting ready to finish the dishes, you heard your door unlock. Your whole body tensed as your fiance walked through the door, taking his time to put his stuff away and take off his shoes before finally meeting you in the kitchen.

“Hi, I didn’t think you would still be awake,” he said, walking past you to grab a glass from the cupboard. You tensed up and kept your gaze on the table, refusing to look up at him. Had he really forgotten your plans for the evening, or did he just not care? If Wonwoo noticed the change in your attitude, he didn’t mention it as he focused on getting his glass of water. “How was work?” he asked after a moment of silence, making you bite your lip to keep from snapping.

“Fine,” you muttered blankly, still not looking at him, “yours?”

“Busy,” he replied with a hum, “we’re trying to finish recording for the new album but there’s been a few hiccups, so we had to redo a lot of it.” You supposed that explained why he was late, but it still didn’t forgive the fact that he came home three hours after he was supposed to without even letting you know. Apparently Wonwoo had continued talking and you hadn’t heard it, as you suddenly felt him right behind you and his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?” you muttered.

“You’ve been tense since I walked in here, I know somethings wrong so what is it?” You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry at his question. It seemed he really had forgotten what you two had planned, and that hurt way more than you were willing to admit.

“What time is it Wonwoo?” you asked, clearly catching him off guard.

“Just past midnight, why?” you took a deep breath to compose yourself before answering.

“What time were you supposed to be home?” He was silent for a moment before finally realizing what you were talking about.

“Oh right, I’m sorry about missing dinner but I couldn’t just leave the guys, you understand right?”

“Yeah I guess,” you muttered under your breath, moving away from him to walk into the living room. You really didn’t want to argue with him, not right now, but it seemed that outcome was unavoidable.

“Come on Y/N don’t do this, you know that my work is important. We can just have dinner another night,” Wonwoo said as he followed after you.

“I know your work is important but this was important to me! We haven’t spent time together in months and I ask for one night, a few hours, and you’re still too busy for that!” you whined.

“I already said I’m sorry I don’t know what else you want from me!” Wonwoo exclaimed, his tone getting sharper which didn’t help your emotions at all. You were trying to stay composed but every second that passed you could feel tears burning your eyes and your resolve slipping.

“I don’t want an apology Wonwoo I just want to be able to spend time with my fiance, is that too much to ask?”

“You act like we never see each other and you and I both know that isn’t true,” he argued, “I’m busy, okay? Not only am I working to be able to support us but I also have the guys and the fans who need my support as well, I can’t just abandon them because you want my attention.”

“I’m not saying I want you to abandon them!” you exclaimed, getting more frustrated now, “I know how demanding your job is and I have done nothing but try to love and support you despite being busy myself. You’re not the only one who works full time you know! Despite that I still make time to check up on you and take care of you, but when I ask for one night you can’t even put aside that time for me.”

“I’m not feeling very supported right now,” Wonwoo stated. There was no change in his tone or anything to show malice, but those words hurt worse than anything else he could have said. Maybe it was because you were exhausted and already emotional, or maybe it was because it seemed like that’s what he honestly thought, either way though, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh really?” you snapped, marching back over to him so there was only a few inches between you both, “tell me then Wonwoo, who wakes up early every morning to make you lunch before going to work? Who left work early to bring you and the boys food because you didn’t get a break from practice? Who stayed up with you until sunrise helping you practice your rap to make sure it sounds good? Who does all of the chores around here and all of the wedding planning despite being busy with everything else so that the only thing you need to worry about is work? Most importantly, who took the time from their schedule since day one to come to as many concerts and promotions as possible to cheer you on because I know how much this means to you? I do all of this to make sure you are supported and what have you done for us recently, absolutely nothing!” By the time your rant was over you were bent over trying to catch your breath, Wonwoo just stared at you with his arms crossed, clearly unamused. 

“Are you happy now?” he asked, shaking his head when you didn’t answer, “I have an early day tomorrow, I’m going to stay at the dorms tonight. We’ll talk about this later.” With that he was grabbing his things and throwing his shoes back on before leaving the apartment without another word. You could only stare at the door in shock, finally letting the argument sink in as you slowly broke down crying. He really left you for the guys, just like that? Did he really not care about you or your relationship? The more you thought about it, the harder it was to stop yourself from crying. This wasn’t your first argument with Wonwoo, and you knew it probably wouldn’t be your last, but this was the first time one of you had ever walked out during an argument. You took a few deep breaths and wiped at your eyes desperately to stop the tears, staring at the door for a bit longer to see if Wonwoo would change his mind and come back. When he didn’t, you accepted defeat and slowly dragged yourself to your shared bedroom.

Almost as if you were on autopilot, you turned your phone off and plugged it in before showering and dragging yourself into bed. You were used to falling asleep without him there, but tonight the bed felt even more empty than usual. You found yourself grabbing his pillow and curling up around it, enjoying his scent and imagining that he was there with you as you slowly drifted off. Hopefully, when you woke up this would all be like a bad dream and he would be there, or at least be willing to talk to you about it. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

To say you were hurt when you woke up alone was an understatement. Your head was pounding from crying the night before and all the negative emotions came slamming into you like a bus. With a groan, you forced yourself to sit up in bed and reached for your phone. Part of you was tempted to call into work so you could clear your head but you knew that wasn’t a logical decision. Having an argument with your fiance wasn’t usually seen as a reasonable excuse to call out, and you could honestly use the distraction. Your phone switched on after a few seconds, showing the wallpaper of you and Wonwoo on the night you got engaged, but there were no new messages aside from a few work emails. You tried not to be disappointed, remembering that Wonwoo said he had a busy day, but given what happened it felt like he was ignoring you on purpose. No ‘good morning’ no ‘I’m sorry’, or even ‘we’ll talk later’, he just went silent. Tossing your phone to the side, you shook your head and rubbed at your temples for a moment before forcing yourself out of bed. You were going to be late if you kept sitting around and you couldn’t afford that extra stress. You quickly rushed around to get ready and grab your things, checking your phone more times than you were willing to admit. Normally you prided yourself on being level headed in stressful situations, but when it came to Wonwoo all your emotions took over and made you feel like a lovesick teenager. Why couldn’t he give you some indication that things were okay? Was he that mad at you, or was he waiting for you to make the first move?” 

The drive to work was extremely stressful as you found yourself unable to focus on the road, too focused on your relationship and checking your phone every time it vibrated. The only thing that snapped your focus back to the road was the honking of cars and shouting from those who rushed around you as you went too slow or stayed stopped at a green light for too long. 

“Get it together Y/N,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the wheel tightly with one hand while the other moved to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your eyes closed for a moment as you waited at another red light, only to snap back open as the car behind you honked furiously. Without thinking, you slammed on the gas, seeing that the light had changed while you were lost in thought. Your car jerked before speeding forward faster than you had anticipated, causing you to panic a bit as you tried to slow down and regain control. Unfortunately, what you hadn’t noticed was the upcoming intersection, or the truck was actively turning into your lane just as you sped through it. You didn’t have enough time to react as the truck slammed into yours, hard enough to flip it. Your ears were ringing and everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as you watched the world spin around you before eventually staring up at the sky. Your whole body burned but felt numb at the same time and it felt like there was a weight pressing on your chest, causing you to gasp for breath. Multiple people had run over to you, clearly trying to see if you were okay but you were unable to hear them or even respond. All you could do was stare up at them helplessly as your vision slowly faded to black. 

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Wonwoo had not been able to focus on his work at all, the argument with you and what you said running through his mind like a broken record. He knew that you were right, but he was so overwhelmed that he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the time. He knew he would need to make it up to you, but first he had to finish what he was doing or else the fight would have been for nothing. Not to mention, he didn’t need the guys getting suspicious about what was going on between you two. He already had Jun bugging him about not going home last night and he knew your cousin would be even more on his case if he told him what happened. 

Thankfully right now they were just going over a few basic steps and warmups before starting practice. Wonwoo didn’t need to focus too much as the focus was the performance unit at the moment while the others kind of did their own thing and waited. All he had to do was sit there and be quiet so that they could focus. That wasn’t possible however, as he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. He ignored it at first, assuming whoever it was would leave a message or he would just call them back later. That was a decision he would soon come to regret, watching as the door opened and their manager walked into the practice room. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said as all the members turned to him, “but I need to speak with Wonwoo and Junhui outside, the rest of you continue with practice.” The two males glanced at each other, confused, before nodding and following the manager out of the room and into the hall. Their manager glanced around for a moment before taking a deep breath, “We just received a call from the hospital about Y/N, there was a really bad car crash and she is currently receiving emergency care, since you two are her closest family we were told to inform you.” Wonwoo swore that he forgot how to breathe in that moment, tuning the other male out as soon as he heard your name and hospital. The world felt like it was closing in around him, and the only thing he could hear was his rapid breathing and the sound of his heart. 

“Wonwoo…Wonwoo!” Jun shouted his name and violently shook at his shoulder to snap him out of his almost panic attack, “snap out of it, come on we have to go!” All Wonwoo could do was nod, following silently to one of the company cars since neither would be trusted to drive. Jun tried to talk to him during the ride, wanting to assure him that you would be okay and that you were strong but Wonwoo didn’t listen. His mind was flooded with the thoughts of you laying broken and alone in a hospital bed. Even worse, he couldn’t help but wonder if what happened was at least partially his fault. You were usually a very aware person, so what if you were distracted while driving to work? Were you still thinking about the argument with him and that’s what caused you to lose your focus? Perhaps if he had just stayed home and talked everything out with you, or even called you this morning then this wouldn’t have happened. 

By the time the guys had gotten to the hospital, you were out of surgery and recovering in a hospital room. The doctors explained that you had hit your head pretty badly, on top of being scratched up from hitting the pavement, but thankfully they were able to stop the bleeding and prevent any long term damage. Wonwoo was relieved when he heard that, but he was still crushed to see you laying there, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to machines that did who knows what. Almost as if on autopilot, he pulled a chair to the side of your bed and sat down, taking your hand in his. He was careful with his movements, not wanting to hurt you even more than you already were. Jun finished talking with the doctor and helped with a few documents before joining you both in the room. Wonwoo heard the older sigh before feeling his hand on his shoulder. It was at that moment that he finally broke, resting his head in his free hand and trying not to get too emotional. 

“This is my fault,” he muttered. 

“How could it be your fault? You weren’t in the car and you weren’t the one that hit her,” Jun pointed out, to which the younger shook his head. 

“You don’t understand, she was distracted because of me and if she had been paying attention she would have been able to avoid the truck.” Jun remained silent, staring down at Wonwoo as he continued venting out his thoughts, “I’ve been so stressed recently with work and having everything done before the wedding that I ended up completely ignoring my relationship. Y/N’s been trying so hard to keep us going and I couldn’t even help her. What kind of husband would I be if I can’t even be a good boyfriend? Or will I even get to be her husband now?”

“Alright enough,” Jun huffed, “you heard the doctor, she’ll be fine, and besides you know she wouldn’t leave us like that. Blaming yourself for whatever happened isn’t going to help her recover. Right now we just need to be here and support her, okay?” Wonwoo didn’t have the energy to respond, only nodding as he kept his focus on you. Jun opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Instead he pulled a chair to the other side of your bed, both males mutually deciding to keep an eye on you until they were forced to leave. 

It took about four days for you to finally wake up, by this point most of your minor injuries had started to heal and the doctors had been able to remove some of your bandages. The whole time Wonwoo had not left your side, save for the one time the members dragged him out of the hospital so that he could shower and actually rest for at least a few hours. Jun came to visit nearly every day to check on you both, and usually a handful of the members would come with him. From the second they heard about your accident, they all basically swarmed your hospital room to check up on you and bring you various get well gifts. From balloons, to cards, to flowers, to stuffed animals, every day they brought you something new. It honestly looked like you had been in the hospital for months with the amount of gifts, rather than a couple of days. 

It took a moment for you to be able to open your eyes, immediately shutting them again and groaning as they were assaulted with blinding white light. You took a moment to adjust before opening your eyes again, slowly glancing around to get familiar with your surroundings. Your whole body was aching and you felt like you had just woken up from a decade long coma. As your senses slowly regained you also realized an odd pressure on your hand, the warm feeling engulfed it tightly, and then you heard a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me?” turning your head, you saw a concerned Wonwoo glancing down at you. Both of his hands were gripping yours and he looked like he was seconds from crying. Behind him, you could see Jun frantically typing on his phone before looking up at you with a relieved expression. 

“Wonwoo, Jun? Where am I?” you asked, your voice rough due to how dry your throat was. Wonwoo carefully helped you sit up before helping you take a sip from the water bottle sitting at your bedside. The cool liquid brought immediate relief and you had to restrain yourself from chugging the whole bottle to not risk choking. 

“Easy now, you’ve been through a lot,” he urged softly, “you’ve been asleep for a few days now.”

“What happened?” you asked, honestly struggling to remember anything. Wonwoo's expression dropped, but he quickly fixed it before you noticed. 

“You were involved in a pretty bad accident on your way to work. It knocked you up pretty badly so you’ll probably be sore for a little while. We’ll talk about it when you feel better, right now you just need to focus on recovering.” You wanted to argue, but Jun had made his way over to sit at the other side of your bed, his hand reaching out to softly grip at your arm. 

“He’s right, you need to rest. You owe us for giving everyone a heart attack by the way!” he teased, making you laugh a bit. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you apologized, making your cousin shake his head while patting yours. 

“It’s not your fault, we were just worried about you thats all,” he assured. 

“Is that what all the gifts are for?” you asked, finally getting a chance to look around your room. 

“You can mostly thank Jeonghan for that actually,” Jun mused. You guys all sat in silence for a few minutes before the man in question came practically bursting through the door. Joshua, Seungcheol, and Chan were behind him, all carrying even more gifts. 

“Y/N! How are you feeling!” Jeonghan exclaimed as he rushed over, “I made my way over the second Jun told us you were awake, we were so worried!” 

“I’m fine,” you assured, “I’m just tired.”

“How can you be tired?” Chan questioned, “you’ve been asleep for four days now!” Your eyes widened a bit, causing the male to cover his mouth as the older members glared at him. 

“Four days? I’ve been out that long?” you exclaimed. 

“Uh yeah, the doctors said it could take about a week for you to wake up,” Jun explained, “you hit your head pretty badly.” You looked down with a soft “oh” which caused the guys to tense up. 

“Don’t worry about it though, all that matters now is that you’re okay. We can worry about everything else later,” Wonwoo assured, rubbing your hand softly. You nodded softly but didn't look back up at him. The members quickly changed the subject to cheer you up, telling you all the fun practice stories that you missed and doing anything they could to keep you smiling. You noticed that Wonwoo seemed a bit distant during that time, but you didn’t get a chance to comment on that as the others stole away your attention. You guys spent a few hours together, only being interrupted by a nurse or the doctor coming in to check up on how you were doing, before eventually the guys had to leave due to having an early day. They gave you one last goodbye, with Jeonghan and Joshua leaving the stuffed animals they got you on your pillow, before filing out of the room and leaving you and Wonwoo alone. 

“Don’t you have to go also?” you asked, watching the door close behind Jun. 

“I already spoke with management, I can make up practice once you’re recovered and back on your feet,” Wonwoo explained. 

“But it must be so boring just sitting here with me,” you whined, causing him to shake his head. 

“I’m not bored at all, it’s actually kind of relaxing to be away from the guys for so long,” he said with a soft laugh. The comment made you smile a bit but you still couldn’t help but worry about his well being. There was no way that sitting in that plastic chair for as long as he probably had was comfortable. 

“It’s so late though, at least go home and sleep in an actual bed. There is no way sleeping hunched over in a chair is good for your neck or back,” you continued. This time Wonwoo's laugh was louder, lowering his head for a second before looking back up at you and pushing up his glasses. 

“You’re the one in the hospital bed and you’re worrying about me? Don’t worry Y/N, my priority right now is making sure that you are doing okay,” he promised. You tried to argue but he wasn’t listening, going as far as to pull out his phone and pretending to take a call so you couldn’t rebuttal anymore. You laughed a bit at how childish he was acting but gave in and stopped arguing. It was starting to get late and you felt yourself getting more tired until you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Wonwoo noticed and smiled softly at you, “Go ahead and rest Y/N, you need to keep up your strength.” You shook your head as best as you could while rubbing at your eyes, causing him to shake his head a bit. “If I promise to go home and go to bed once you fall asleep, will that help?” he asked. You nodded and whined softly as you struggled to get comfortable with your remaining injuries. “Very well, once I’m sure you’re asleep I will go home and come back in the morning okay? Now go ahead and rest.” You whined again but didn’t argue as you closed your eyes. 

“Goodnight Wonwoo, I love you,” you muttered, eventually letting sleep take over as you slumped against your pillow. 

Wonwoo kept an eye on you until he was positive that you were asleep and wouldn’t be able to hear him. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as he took in your injured state. You looked much better than you had when he had gotten to the hospital, but it was clear you would be in pain for quite a while. With a defeated sigh, he lifted your hand enough to press a tender kiss to your skin. 

“I know that you can’t really hear me right now, and you don’t remember what happened but I always will,” he started, “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and I’ve been neglecting my job as your boyfriend and future husband. I’m sorry that I let it get this far, but I promise that I will never let it happen again. I will make it up to you and I will prove that I deserve to be your husband. I will come home more, I’ll help you out so you’re not always overworking, and I will never doubt you ever again. I promise that I will do better for you, for us, no matter what it takes.” You didn’t even move as he spoke, fast asleep and unable to process the words he was saying. Still, the promise was there, and he was more than determined to keep it. The past few days Wonwoo had a lot of time to reflect on everything, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure this situation never happened again. The fear and guilt he had when he thought that he may lose you was a sinking feeling that he never wanted to experience again.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Wonwoo let go of your hand and slowly stood up from his chair. His legs were stiff and almost numb from sitting in one position for so long, but he ignored that as he pushed the chair away. Careful not to disturb you, he leaned over your bed, one hand held himself up as the other moved to brush your hair out of your face. He admired your features as his fingers traced along your cheek and chin before he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. Your skin was cold compared to his, almost alarmingly so, but that didn’t stop him from letting his touch linger for as long as humanly possible. He hesitantly pulled away after a moment, running his fingers across your face one last time before standing back. 

“Rest well Y/N, I love you, and I always will.”

↪ Seventeen Taglist: @woo8hao @amethyistheart @exfolitae

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[polling-sonic-fans]

I gotta be completely honest with you, I'm a little frustrated with the people who interact with this blog. I don't want to be rude, especially not to you the mod, but seeing how popular the added "unsure" and "haven't heard of this" options can be for some polls, I feel like it takes from the poll entirely. For example, the recent one about Sonic Omens. I think that anyone who doesn't have a leg in the race just shouldn't vote, and the poll isn't for them. I feel like including options for people who can't even answer the question sort of messes with the data. I only mean this as constructive criticism, not to cause harm or hate, and I hope to hear your side of it, as well as submitters who make the polls. What do you think?

This, too, is data I must learn. My thoughts are under the cut, thank you for your feedback.

Joking aside, I understand the point, but I moderately disagree.

For the past month or so this blog has been running completely on user submissions. I only edit options to add something I think is missing and will result in unnecessary distress (see: the lack of chill on the first Sonic Voice Actor Poll. Lest we forget.). I do not currently remove options; I presume people meant what they said unless they tell me otherwise.

I do understand that some polls may have a lot of people choosing the opt out option, and that could pose specific problems. I don't think I agree with your example for this: I for one had never heard of that project, so would have voted the opt out option. And while I could and possibly would just ignore that poll, there's a chance someone might just pick or guess any answer if their response is not encapsulated in the options. People are nosy. They want to know the results even if they don't know anything about the topic.

Also, you can always calculate the proportion of the votes that went to each without the cop-out option with some simple percentage calculations. So the data isn't invalidated, the sample is just smaller. That is also data: it tells you many people aren't aware of or engaged with that topic. I think that is interesting too.

Where I could see your point is on more general but difficult things. If I listed a poll like 'Who's better: Shadow or Sonic?' I expect many people would want to click the cop-out option because they really like both, and there I would lose data. Because if they were really pushed, they could probably manage an opinion, but it would be easier (and give the gratification of button pressing) if they can not think about it and choose a 'I refuse!' button.

However, even in such cases I still think it's important that I do not edit people's polls to remove catch-all options if they have listed them. For all I know, the submitter was actually interested in capturing data on how many people would refuse to answer, and would be dissappointed to have that option removed.

My final note is I have found myself feeling quite protective of my submitters, especially those I suspect are regulars. This is not a massive blog being overwhelmed with asks. I would have given up already without them, I used nearly all of my ideas to get to past the first 100 polls. So if the polls are mislisted, contain errors, or you have grievances with them: raise those with me, that's my job. Give the submitters the kudos for providing the entertainment. I am not the last person you should be rude to but the first.

I don't want to ask voters to do anything except vote honestly, even if the answer is they don't know, and share questions they like. If they could continue to refrain from starting barfights on my posts that would also be swell. But I guess enthusiasm is appreciated.

Those who've read my essay here, please do leave your thoughts on the subject in the replies - I will be reading with interest and will let it impact my own polls, if not alter the submissions. Genuinely, thank you for the ask and your interest in the data we're making here, I am pleased that you are invested and like me want good data!

[dreadsuitsamus]

Rich & Sad | Jiraiya x Reader |

author's note: this was in the wip graveyard for like a year plus, ngl, though @yeowangies admitting to being an old man fucker helped revive it. this is based on a song of the same name by post malone (i know, big surprise coming from me)

pairing: jiraiya x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol, typically all the sadness you would think of in a jiraiya work tbh

I just keep on wishing that the money made you stay.

Jiraiya's pen flicks easily along the notepad; most authors opt for computers these days, and he supposes he should get with the times. But his old method of writing by hand on whatever scrap of paper he could find got him this far: sitting in a mansion with no spared expense and every amenity a man could dream of. Hell, it all started in a bar with an idea written on a cocktail napkin as he watched the bartender serve her regulars and newcomers through a peaceful reverie. It was the look in her eyes, so clearly not present unlike the rest of her working body, that flooded through the dam of his writer's block that sent him through a flurry of those little square napkins.

It's cold, though. Even with all the money his bank account could ask for, he finds turning the furnace on pointless; there's nobody to keep warm, and he's been numb to it for quite some time now. Perhaps he should relocate to the mansion down in Mexico soon— tis the season.

You always hated that mansion.

"Don't you love the view, babe?"

"Yeah…" Your eyes shifted from his as you lied.

He should burn it to ash.

Jiraiya's latest novel is for a new series, and while he initially only intended a one-off, he's quickly coming up with idea after idea to turn it into the most dramatic story he's ever thought of. It may just rival any soap opera by the time he's done— and wouldn't that be something, if he could have a book turned into a show or a movie? He's already got more money than he knows what to do with; it'd just be wasteful at this point.

But maybe a few more zeros on his bank balance can convince you he's worth it?

Jiraiya sets aside the pen and makes a call whilst surveying the empty room, reserving his usual VIP room at a club downtown, preemptively adding a few extra bottle girls to his tab before the line clicks and he's off to dress himself. His closet is massive, the size of the three bedrooms he had the walls of removed just to accommodate this collection of suits, accessories and the like, most of which he's never worn.

“Jiraiya, those rooms were supposed to be for our kids, not some ridiculous closet!”

“Relax! I can buy another house, baby, don't worry.”

Even in his own home, he's got appearances to upkeep.

Though he has worn every single tacky Hawaiian shirt he owns, of which he has an entire corridor of this closet dedicated to. The club he's booked tonight has a dress code specifically against those, however (and specifically put in place because of Jiraiya) so tonight he's opting for a black suit with gold accents and leaves the shirt behind as he buttons the jacket about halfway. He's not sure who started this movement of showing up half dressed, but he'd love to get on his hands and knees and give them all of his gratitude.

Jiraiya walks by the empty, unlit portion of the closet, refusing to think about the day he’d finally unscrewed and tossed out the lightbulbs shining light on his darkest days.

The club is loud, packed and boozy when Jiraiya arrives. He's enough of a regular to be vaguely anticipated even without his reservation, and as such there's more than a conga line’s worth of women waiting for him. The symphony of “Hiiii Jiraiya~!” is intoxicating, along with the cheers when he announces the drinks are on him tonight. He's got a card on tab at all times here; he doesn't even remember what it looks like, but it's probably a black card.

“Babe, you gotta start spending more on your card. The penalties are kicking my ass!”

“Then cancel the card.” Your voice is dead, along with your feelings for this relationship. You can't remember the last time you spent time with Jiraiya rather than a product of his wealth.

Jiraiya goes through the throngs of pretty ladies itching to be his sole beneficiary, kissing them all with an obscene amount of tongue before he's even gotten to his private party room. The bottle girls are ready, serving what he's buying to every patron in the club. The atmosphere is rowdy and everyone's having fun, swapping drinks, pills and saliva. What else are Saturday nights good for?

“Can't we stay in for once? I'm not up for partying.”

“Well, what the hell else are we gonna do?”

In the center of the room, Jiraiya sits alone in the plush armchair, staring through the sexy bodies before him and rather at the wall. When you've done this once, you've done it a thousand times. He hasn't found joy in any of this in many years now.

He hasn't felt anything.

All this stunting couldn't satisfy my soul.

Jiraiya’s back in the mask the moment gentle fingertips touch his jaw, and when he looks up he could swear he's seeing you. But then one blink and the truth is before him: you're not here, and never will be. As the image of the stripper before him settles, he plasters on a smile and allows her to pour the liquor right into his mouth.

By closing time, he's got thousands on his tab and can hardly stand on his own. He's more than capable of holding his liquor, but frankly he's had much more than he should've. Truthfully, he's surprised he's got a liver at all anymore. Jiraiya stumbles out of the club, that big body crashing into a light pole as he fumbles for his cell phone, the device being the latest edition Apple has to offer, though the old man can hardly figure any of it out. It crashes to the concrete, shattering the screen that brightly displays a picture of you looking so bright and smiley and happy.

He stole the photo from your Instagram page when you posted it on a day many moons after you left him. And he made sure to crop out the man beside you that's wearing your wedding ring on his finger.

Jiraiya hits the ground hard when he bends over to pick up the phone, and with the cold air chilling the sidewalk he finds himself more willing to stay there than try to find a way back home in his inebriated state.

Got a hundred big places but I'm still alone.

The bright light of the broken screen blinds him, but he still manages to dial your number through nearly-closed eyes. The ringer drones on and on, and just when he thinks he's going to voicemail, the line picks up.

“Jiraiya.” It's said with a sigh, softly. There's no irritation this time, and instead he's met with nothing but pure sadness. “You can't keep calling me.”

“What if I penned a new medical drama, hm? Those’re popular…”

“Why don't you do what fulfills you, like your first novel?” Before he'd waded into the world of smut and taken on those rabid readers, he'd written a thrilling book that sold poorly, but has a rather dedicated cult following after all these years. It was a truly brilliant read, and even now serves as a reminder of the man you originally fell in love with.

“Those books don't sell. The money didn't make you stay… So it's gotta be worth the trade, no?” He's far too late in the game to make it right; after your ex-fiancée has her fifth wedding anniversary, there usually isn't any salvation in pulling your head out of your ass.

I would throw it all away.

[nonconstories]

Saw your request for snippets and… I would really love to see a sidekick getting railed by a superhero

ME TOO.

Sebastian Graves AKA Sparrow is an established Superhero in the city of Hasper. He's also a bit accident prone, and one of his Rogues has dosed him with honest to god sex pollen. Sparrow's sidekick, Starling, has told him a million times to be more careful. He always has to clean up Seb's messes...

Click under the cut for: A trans guy annoying his sidekick death before riding him on their safe couch

Word Count: 1800

"You're a fucking dumbass sometimes, you know that?" That was just about the only thing he could think of to say, while his boss was sprawled out on the couch with a hand down the front of his pants. Keeping his eyes locked firmly on Sparrow's chest, which was still covered in his feather-stamped armor, he gestured in a vague, broad way, trying to indicate their entire situation. "Like. Like, how did this even fucking happen?"

Sparrow didn't answer for a second; likely too busy jerking his t-cock under his suit. Blood rushed to Gray's face when Sparrow groaned in pleasure and lifted his head from the arm of the couch to give his "side kick" a wobbly, sweaty grin. "Told you, Grumpy, I tried to fight OakenAsh on my own and I realllllly shouldn't have!" He tried to laugh, but it turned into a moan as he humped his own hand. "FUCK, oh, oh fuck, I really shouldn't have--"

Cringing, Gray turned his back on him and, at loss for what else to do with his hands, started undoing the straps of his gauntlets. "You, you pull your punches with that guy--" He mumbled, and prayed to literally nothing for his dick to stay soft. Which, admittedly, was difficult when picturing Sparrow and OakenAsh rolling around on a rooftop and fighting for the upper hand. "Seriously, don't, fucking talk to them! Hit them, for Christ's sake, Seb. They're...bad guys."

Behind him, Sparrow gave another shaky laugh, and the couch creaked as he continued to play with himself. "Oh, my, god, are you SERIOUSLY going to stand there and lecture me on my bad guys? Who I've been dealing with for 15--15--15 years oh my god come on I am so fucking close--" His words fluctuated between whines and moans, and Gray tried not to sprint across the room to the sink. The safehouse he'd found Sparrow in was a studio apartment, so his options for fucking off were limited.

As he pointlessly filled a glass with water, he shouted over his shoulder, "Well, clearly, I need to! Cuz this shit keeps happening!"

"Oaken could've killed me and he didn't," Sparrow pointed out, and then whined again. "Or maybe it is possible to die of blue balls. Is it? Gray. Gray, is it?"

"HOW WOULD I KNOW?" His dick was refusing to stay soft. He downed half the water in two gulps, and then gripped the edge of the sink as he tried to get himself under control. "Take this seriously!" He added, much less punch to his words. His ears were burning as badly as his face, and when he rubbed the back of his neck, he felt a thin sheen of sweat there. Wildly, he wondered his OakenAsh's pheromone-laced pollen was contagious. "He dosed you with a goddamn...date rape drug..." Laughing. The lunatic was laughing, and Gray rounded on him, abruptly more furious than mortified. "What is so goddamn funny?!" He stormed back across the cheap imitation hardwood and actually knocked the coffee table aside as he approached the couch.

Face flushed pink and lips swollen from his own teeth, Sparrow looked up at him and gave him another smile. "You!" He chirped, and wiggled his hips like he was seeking a better angle. "You get soooo upset. You get so mad! Come on, name one time it hasn't been fine!"

"Now!" Gray snapped, and pointed at him with one bare hand. "Right NOW, it is not fine, Sebastian!"

Sparrow was still wearing his domino mask, but, even behind the white-out lens, Gray could tell that his eyes had refocused on his finger. His hips wriggled again, and his hand to seemed to slow. Like he was teasing himself. "...Aw. You said my name. That's awfully cute." Throat suddenly dry, Gray took a step back, and stumbled against the crooked coffee table. "It's going to be fine," he added, looking his partner carefully up and down. His hair, the same mottled blend of red and brown and black as his armor, was falling out of place, the sweat dissolving the gel's hold on it. "Because you're right, this is a date rape drug. I can't get myself off, I need help."

Gray tried to answer, but could only manage a faint wheeze as Sparrow licked his lips, bright pink tongue dragging over his excited smile. "Sorry?" He managed on the second try.

"Mmm. Don't be. Come here."

"Nu-uh." Gray said reflexively, and tried to take another step back, only to feel the coffee table still blocking the way. "No way," he added and shuffled to the side to continue retreating. "Not gonna happen." He could not fuck Sparrow. He could definitely not fuck him while--because--"You're drugged!" He added, as his dick continued to insist on being hard.

"Exactly!" Sparrow whined, and thrust his hips as hard as he could into his own hand. His free one, no longer gripping the back of the couch, reached out for his friend. "I'm drugged! By that horrible plant monster you want to kill so bad--"

"I don't wanna kill him, I wanna beat the snot out him until he acts right--"

"--and I need help!" He pouted, which was ridiculous for a man his age, and then he beckoned with two fingers. "C'mon, I'd do it for you."

"C-call one of your--" He started weakly, but cut himself off with a wince. Call one on your friends, Seb! Oh, wait, they're all in hiding, or dead, or locked-up somewhere, or they're the guy that literally did this to you in the first place. Great suggestion, Gray, you fucking ass.

"Gray," Sparrow said, and there was less humor in his voice now. He clenched his teeth, and dragged his hand out of his armor, and sat up on the couch. "Gray," he said again, sweat still rolling down his forehead. "I've been rubbing myself off for like, 45 minutes. Oaken screws with his pollen recipe all the time, and this time? There was like. Zero urge to bang HIM, I just got super horny. I'm prettttttty sure that I need someone else. You know, sex. Not jackin' it. If you want me to find someone who isn't you, I--I probably can? But, that's gonna be super hard while I'm. You know. Actively under the effects of his stupid sex pollen in the first place. Help me out? Please?"

His dick told him to help. So did his brain, which was pointing out that Sparrow was right, he could barely keep his hands out of his pants. Swallowing hard, he furtively glanced at Sparrow's hands, twitching in his own lap, and asked, "Um. What do I do?"

Lighting up, Sparrow reached for him and this time, Gray stepped forward, into his waiting touch. "Ever fucked someone without a dick before?" He sounded cheerful, of all things, as he grabbed Gray by the wrists and pulled him to the couch. Gray let himself be pulled into a seat, and then jumped in surprise as Sparrow straddled him. "Undress me," he added, and started taking off Gray's Starling armor.

"No," he admitted, and started popping the catches and seals on the lightweight body armor. "Never."

"Well, good news! I just need something to bounce on." Sparrow was practically leering as he tossed the chest piece aside and got his first look at Gray's chest. "Oh my god. Do you wax?" Sounding delighted, his hands dropped to Gray's smooth pecs, and Gray's hands faltered on his back as those clever, gentle fingers started to explore. "I'm gonna mark these up," he whispered, and flicked his thumbs over Gray's nipples. "That sound nice, Grumpy?"

"S-Seb--" He wasn't sure what he was trying to say. It might have been let's get this over with before I embarrass myself or it might have been please slow down I've had a crush on you since I was 15 and I want to savor this. Mindlessly, he continued stripping his boss out of his suit. Sparrow, to his delight, did not wax. Dark brown hair covered his chest and stomach, and brilliant scars, like pink and white rivers, criss-crossed them both. "Can...can you feel--" Instead of pulling his pants down, he rubbed his fingertips over Sparrow's nipples, and they moaned in unison.

"Babe," Sparrow said, a small note of warning in his voice, but Gray ignored him and kept touching. "Babe, I'm so not in the mood for teasing." Hands back on Gray's shoulders, he turned them, and shoved Gray down on his back. Their legs tangled, and Gray yanked him into a sloppy kiss. That was pure self-indulgence, and the surprised noise Sparrow let out was going to be fueling his daydreams for a long, long time. For a few minutes, they stayed like that, tongues tangling, crotches grinding together through armor too thick to allow much relief. When Gray grabbed his ass with one hand and squeezed it, Sparrow pulled back, and growled, "No more fucking TEASING. Told you, I need something to bounce on."

Worming a hand down in between them, Gray undid his own belt and shoved his pants down as much as he could. The pieces of armor on his thighs made that pretty damn difficult, unfortunately, but he could pull his cock out. He gave himself a few quick strokes before trying to fumble Sparrow's pants off, and Sparrow kept kissing him. Each dip of his tongue into Gray's mouth felt like a reward.

Frustrated, Sparrow sat up, and Gray panted at him as he tried to get his pants off. Finally, the armor hit the floor beside him, and he was naked except for his mask, and yeah, this felt very familiar. Almost like Gray had been jerking off to that imagine for over a fucking decade. "Bounce on it, then," he said, and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. Sparrow's own cock, plump and stiff and so fucking sweet looking that it made Gray's mouth water, was twitching above his pussy, which was both dripped and clenching on nothing.

"Hold still." And then Sparrow was sinking down onto his cock, and Gray threw his head back.

"SEB--"

"Oh my god--" Sparrow was whining, and grinding against Gray's hand, which was keeping him from sinking down any further. "You, are, big!" He was laughing again, and Gray moaned, grabbing his thigh with his other hand. "Move--move your--I need--"

"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry--" He forced his fingers to uncurl from around his dick, and mimicked Sparrow earlier, grabbing the back of the couch. "Seb--" He cut himself off with a high-pitched whined as Sparrow raked his nails down Gray's pecs. Bright red lines of pain burned in their wake, and Sparrow sounded downright feral as he started barking orders.