#i just. i regret everything I've ever done and everything I've failed to do and i think that has become a core part of who i am

[jinxessticktogether]

i need a do over

[americas-ass-writing]

Bouquet

Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve unveils a bouquet of secrets.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of a hospital/ medbay, being soaked, I'm probably switching between tenses, probably more mistakes

A/M: this is a little birthday gift for the lovely @anika-ann 🩷 idk if you remember but we did have a little conversation about Steve using flower codes like this 🥰 I hope you enjoy!

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Dating Steve Rogers had it's perks. Like falling asleep in a warm embrace, endless treats because he felt like it, fresh flowers every Monday, surprise visits for lunch, the list goes on. But it certainly also had it's downsides. Waking up to an empty bed because he went on his morning run, waking up at 3am to an emergency callout, being alone and worrying while he's on a mission. Overall it was great though. You've never felt as loved before.

With Steve came his little disfunctionsl family that never failed to show up for you when Steve was out of town. May it be Tony bringing you a treat or Natasha inviting you for movie night or just going on a walk with Clint and Lucky. It was like you were part of their family and you're pretty sure you are.

The day started off like any other when Steve was out on a mission. You woke up to an empty bed, missing the heat Steve usually brought along throughout the night. By the time you finally convinced yourself to get up and ready for the day you usually already have a morning text from him. Every single one no matter how small or articulate brought a smile to your face. It meant he was safe and that was the most important thing. It also made you miss him more and often led to worry that it might have been the last morning text you'd ever receive from him.

Deciding you need to get ready to head to work you made your way to the bathroom and from there your day just turns south. The toothpaste you could swear was full last night was suddenly empty, the new fancy hair tool blowed out a fuse and your makeup just doesn't wanted to turn out the way you need it to. Cutting your losses you grabbed your lunch, shoved it in your work bag and headed out.

The way to work was not better. It was raining cats and dogs and on top of that storming so bad your umbrella didn't held a chance. You arrived at the office wet, cold and with a deep regret of not listening to Steve who told you to keep a change of clothes at work. Settled in at your desk you just had to vent about the morning you had. Steve always encouraged you to text him about everything, even if he couldn't answer right away. So you did just that before starting up your computer and trying to find the best position to stay out of the ac blasting air your way. You managed to get some tasks done despite your manager scrambling all the plans once again and soon found yourself taking out your lunch. The red container lid made you stop. Red was pre cut onions and garlic... Purple was your lunch. Your shoulders sacked as you opened the container and did indeed find onions and garlic chopped into cubes. Well this wouldn't suffice as lunch and it was still storming outside. What were you supposed to do? Maybe the break room had some leftovers you could grab if no one claimed them before you. Just as you were about to head there you spotted a familiar brunette at the reception. Her green eyes met yours as the receptionist points your way and her face lit up with a smile. Oh you were never happier to see Wanda strolling in for a lunch date than today!

The bag from your favourite sandwich place made your mouth water as you meet her halfway only to usher her back to your cubicle.

"You're wet!" Her concern made you remember that you where still in your now only a bit dryer clothes from this morning. As you explain the situation to her she frowns. "Well I've been shopping before this. You can change into the clothes I got so you won't get sick." Wanda's eyes are full of concern as she pulls some pieces out of a brown paper back. A pair of dark blue jeans, white sneakers and a nice blue sweater land in your hands before she ushers you off to the bathroom to change. You're so glad you share the same shoe size, the wet shoes bothered you the most. As you return she already has the sandwich, a softdrink and your favourite side set out for you, alongside her sandwich and a soup. The soup is quickly shared between you and your break is filled with laughter, reassurance that Steve will return in one piece and a warm hug goodbye. Wanda takes along your wet clothes, promising to dry them and leaves you with a new rain jacket she bought today because she thought it was pretty. As you go back to work, refueled and with your mind refreshed you never even think about the fact that you and Wanda don't share the same size.

During the second half of your shift you get a text informing you that the sent out team, alongside your beloved captain, is on their way back but that Steve is injured and probably needs surgery. They asked you to come in after you're done for the day so you're there when he wakes up. You spent the time left from your shift worrying about him and as soon as the clock strikes 4pm you're on your way out.

The rainjacket Wanda suplied you with comes in handy with the awful weather. Luckily you make it to the subway before the 5pm rush and board the line that stops closest to the tower. It takes you half an hour till you finally step into the lobby of the tower and rush to the elevator where your second favourite blonde is already waiting for you. Clint gives you a wave and an encouraging smile before he ushers you into the elevator. "He's fine. Already awake from surgery but still a bit loopy from whatever they pumped into him to make him sleep. Loverboy got shot when he went back in for hostages, you know how he is." Clint explains and hands you the cup he was holding. You know it's your favourite tea without even trying and thank you with a small smile. "He's stupid sometimes..." You attempt to joke and Clint gives you a smile and a nod.

"That he is. But he'll be fine. So throw those worries out and please enjoy him drugged up on anesthetic while it lasts. It's a rare opportunity." That is true. Normally his system burns through anything in minutes if not even seconds. The medbay team had been struggling for years till they finally figured something out that worked. And even that didn't stay long in Steve's body. You follow Clint to the room that your boyfriend is in and already hear the laughter of his best friends. Clint throws you an I-told-you-so smile before he leads you inside. Your eyes immediately fall on your boyfriend, bandaged up, with his hips awkwardly lifted as Bucky seemingly helps him get his underwear on, with the blanket hiding his modesty. Both Sam and Bucky are laughing but stop as soon as they see you. Bucky finishes what he's been doing and keeps his hand on Steve's chest to keep him from sitting up.

Your boyfriend immediately perks up when he sees you. "Sweetheart!" His goofy smile immediately falls into a deep frown when he takes you in. You step closer and cup his face softly. "Hey..." You say quietly but his frown is still in place. "You're sad..." He says it with such disappointment that you almost think he's gonna fight the entire world for you. "A bit yeah... I'm worried." You say and try to smooth out the frown on his forehead. He throws the arm that's not in a sling out to Bucky. "Buck! Give me my phone!" The order is barked a bit too loud. Everyone is confused for a moment. At the silence and lack of phone his eyes snap to Bucky with a venom you have never seen on your boyfriends face before. "Phone. Now." He barks so serious you almost ask yourself if the anesthetic already wore off. "Why?" Bucky asks, the confusion still on his face.

"She's sad! I need to send a code to Clint so he asks her to join him on a walk with Lucky!" He explains as if it's super obvious. You're confused... a code? To Clint? Your eyes wander from Steve, to Bucky over Sam and then to Clint. Bucky looks like he's mentally facepalming himself, Sam stands there as if his mother caught him doing something that's definitely forbidden and Clint hides his amusement behind his cup of coffee. "Steve. Clint is in the room with us." Bucky deadpans and Steve looks to Clint. He lights up a bit. "Oh good! Clint! Code hyacint!"

Clint chuckles and shakes his head, looking at you. He's enjoying the free show way too much after an exhausting mission. Steve's face grows angry but before he can snap at Clint you pull his attention to you. "Code hyacint? Steve what's that supposed to mean?" You ask and he just blinks at you.

"It means... That... I text that to Clint when you're sad. You like dogs and nature so I ask him to take you for a walk with Lucky." Your confusion melts away to adoration. That's so cute and considerate. You smile at him and press a kiss to his forehead.

"That's very kind of you Stevie. But I'd rather stay here and be with you at the moment. Is that okay?" You asks sweetly and he beams at you. "Yes! Do you need anything? I can text a code to someone else!" He offers with childlike excitement.

"There's... more than one?" You ask, your unsure gaze snaps at Bucky's stifled chuckle. "There's an entire bouquet." Sam grins, seemingly more comfortable with the situation now. You're confused once again. An entire bouquet? How many exactly where there?

"Don't be mad. I just don't want to lose you." Steve pouts at you. "Lose me? Steve that's insane you wouldn't lose me..." You're interrupted by a sob from your boyfriend.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me! You're my one shot at love! I'm sorry for going behind your back but when I'm not home I need all the help I can get!" Tears stream down his face as he grabs your hand a bit tighter as if you'd run away if he didn't.

"S...so I asked them to help me! I thought of scenarios and what could help you. And then I made up a flower code for it. Like when you told me about your morning and how your clothes were wet I texted Wanda code rain lily so she would bring you new clothes. Or last week when you were sad about that friend canceling your dinner I sent Nat code sunflower for a movie night and Tony code dandelion so he'd bring your favourite snacks." You try to wipe away the tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry! Will you forgive me?" His sobs break your heart.

"Stevie... There's nothing to forgive... Am I a bit disappointed your friends played along without telling me? Yeah. But you just did it out of the goodness of your heart." You coo and his tears slowly stop.

"We were forced!" Sam exclaims while Bucky chuckles. You look at them with an eyebrow raised before Clint gets your attention with his confession that he just did it so he could spend more time with you. Your heart melts a little at that.

After explaining everything a bit more, Sam and Bucky being banned from the room by Clint and Steve falling asleep again you sit nest to his bed and hold his hand. Clint sits on the opposite side of the bed and reads a report on his phone while sipping coffee. Steve's act of love and service still tumbles around your mind and you can't hold yourself back any longer.

"How many codes are there?" You ask. Clint looks over his phone to you. He seems to think if he should reveal even more about their system. "Several." He answers and lowers the phone. "It started with a few but as your relationship grew so did the codes. Some were brought up by Steve and others... we're brought up by us." You lift your eyebrows in surprise at that. You don't even need to ask before Clint continues. "Yes by us. We all really like you and when he's home Steve really hogs all of your time. So it became a little competition who would get to spend time with you when he wasn't around. Wanda started it. She came up with the code to bring you new clothes... Which she did today. Tony quickly caught on what she was doing and showed Steve ten more scenarios that could happen." You chuckle at that.

"How did you keep up with all that? A list?" Your eyes wander to Steve's sleeping form. He truly is the perfect partner. How could anyone be as considerate as him? Get all his friends to go along with it so he wouldn't lose you? He would never have even without them. And his friends loving you so much they'd want to spend time with you? Your heart fills with warmth and happiness at the thought alone. And to think you'd been nervous that they wouldn't like you.

"Yeah. We have a list and we had a whole briefing." You laugh at that and Clint smiles. "He was all captain mode. He's very serious about you... Even our reassurance that you wouldn't leave him didn't calm him down." You softly start to brush your thumb over the back of Steve's hand that you're holding. "Well don't tell him or anyone else that you were right... I would never leave him. Especially not when he has such a big heart." Clint laughs and shakes his head. He pulls out his phone again and smirks at you. You know there's no promise that he'll keep that a secret but at least he won't tease Steve with it.

[xxaraaq]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙑𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙚

masterlist

Synopsis | Alicent is a Godly woman who's morals stand high above everything else. She's given everything she's supposed to to the realm. She is so selfless, so fucking her husbands brother is the one thing she can keep to herself, right?

Word count | 1.5k

cw | Infidelity, spoken violence, corruption?

Authors note | Hi y'all. I know I haven't posted in literally the longest time ever but if I'm being honest I've been fighting with life it up until about a week ago it was beating my ass. Anyways, I'm back now, and I hope that this will make up for it, enjoy! Not edited.

She is a good queen.

That’s what she thinks to comfort herself whenever the regrets of her past set in.  She has done her duty to the realm, giving birth to formidable sons and a beautiful daughter. She did what she was supposed to do, she just happened to do it with the wrong man.

No one could blame her for her choices. Her husband, a now senile, miserable old man who had no romantic love for her, failed in his role as her source of comfort. Once Rhaenyra went off and fucked her uncle in a brothel, she felt as though she had no true friends, no real allies.

No one except you.

You were the youngest of you, Viserys, and Daemon. Meaning that you had no real responsibilities. You had close to if not no chance of inheriting the iron throne, and you accepted it. Instead of struggling futilely trying to climb your way up the line of succession, you sat back, kicked your feet up, and enjoyed the life of a royal, of a Targaryen.

With you and Alicent being so close in age, you only being four years her senior, she found it easier to converse and jest with you compared to her husband and virtually everyone else around her. You were light hearted, a companion she often sought the company of. And even though her fathers concern grew about the influence you have on her that grows with each passing day, she paid it no mind. After all, she was the queen, and no one could tell her no.

It was the day the ‘rumors’ spread about Rhaenyra that you swooped in. Exhausted, you were the first person she went to to deliver the news. 

“Your sister has ruined almost any chance she has at marrying a suitable lord.” Alicent huffs, pacing back and forth around the room. You chuckle, amused by the entire ordeal. “She is a princess, maiden or not, my brother will surely find a wealthy husband for my niece.” You say, trying to ease her nerves. It obviously doesn’t help, her looking at you like you have two heads. “This is nothing to joke about. Your niece might run your entire house into ruin with the horrid accusations circling about. Have you no care in what happens?” She yells, desperate to get you to understand her frustration in it all. “Accusations? Alicent, my closest friend, you are no fool. You and I both know she fucked my brother in a whorehouse. You can speak freely with me, I promise you that.” You stand from your chair, making your way towards her. You love your niece and brother, but you’re also not one to deny the truth.

A tear slips from her eye, the stress of it all pouring down on her. “Oh, my dear, don’t cry.” You cup her face in your rough hands. A chill runs down her spine, something she’s never felt before. The look you have in your eyes is not what she’s seen from you before. Your eyes are dark, a smirk on your face that means nothing but trouble.

“You are a good woman, I must say. A loyal wife, an obedient daughter, a great friend. You never fail to be there to fulfill the needs and wants from others around you. But what about your needs, hmm?” You ask, tone sultry with an emotion she can’t pinpoint. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.” She stutters, growing shy from your demeanor. “You know what I mean, Alicent. When’s the last time you’ve truly felt fulfilled? Rhaenyra is too busy chasing after Daemon like a lost pup to spend time with you. Your husband is still stuck on Aemma even though he’s the reason she passed on in the first place, God's rest her soul. And your father, as much as he may love you, sees you as nothing more than a tool. I am the only one who has genuine intentions for you. The only things I care about ensuring is your well-being and happiness. A life full of not knowing what it’s like to be pleasured and to bring pleasure is not one worth living.” 

She knows that you mean this deep down in your heart, and that makes her want to give in all the more. ‘We can’t, what if someone finds out?” She asks, fear covering her features. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Who would be so impudent as to try and tell the King that his youngest brother is fucking his wife?” You say. 

She thinks for a second, then two, then three. “I’m… I’m not certain that having an affair would be for the best.” She says, backing away until she hits the edge of a table. “Let me show you what I could do for you, please? If you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll never make an advance again, I promise this to you.” You almost plead, desperation laced through every word you speak. You have to have her, you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t.

Her silence fills the room, making your heart beat all the more harder. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the Gods for having you in their favor the moment she nodded her head yes. It was slow at first, a kiss on the neck, a light caress on her thigh, but then you stopped holding back, and you took her to that table in a matter of minutes. You held your hand to her mouth, trying to keep her as quiet as possible as you fucked into her tight cunt with a fervor you’ve never felt before. Everything about her drove you crazy as you corrupted her. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the way she so futilely used her hand to try and push you from her as your thick cock plowed through her. 

Your secret relations kept on through the years, past the birth of Ageon and the rest of the children. The both of you knew that all four of them were yours, words not needed to be spoken to know that you were the one to sire the king's heirs and not the king himself.

As everyone grew, so did the tensions concerning the birth of your niece's sons. You had to laugh when you first saw Jace’s brown tufts of hair. How could she be so transparent about her infidelity? It was Rhaenyra’s actions that truly caused the hatred to stir within Alicent. You knew as well as everyone else that it was only a matter of time before things grew too large to keep a blind eye to it all.

The day that Aemond was maimed was one that nobody could ever forget. It was truly just a blurry haze of squeaky voices, deep insults, and the sound of a sheathed blade. The royal blood that covered the pavement that night would never be forgotten. You were the one that escorted the queen back to her room that night, providing an environment where her tongue could be as loose as need be. You shut the door, the creakiness that shows its age filling the silence. “That vile woman and her, her…” She couldn’t even get the words out, she was so furious. “Bastards? Say it Alicent, we all know it to be the truth.” You say, leaning against the stone wall. She groans, hand running over her face as she goes back to her habit of pacing the room. “The king is so shielded by the love he has for her, he can’t even see the vile things she has done.” She says, pupils so dilated with rage she can’t see straight. “Must I remind you that we are in the same boat as her, only that her’s has started to sink while ours stays afloat?” You say, quick to point out the sins she has also committed. The words catch in her throat, taken aback by your sudden correction. “Are you taking her side?” Her voice trembles with stress as she picks at her nail beds. “Do you not remember how I to this day sneak into you room through secrets passageways to fuck you to sleep every night? How I’ve filled your womb with so much seed I’ve impregnated you four times? Or have you forgotten how all our children are bastards as well?” You say, your voice sarcastically sweet as you grip her waist, pulling her backside flush to her chest. You lay kisses on her neck and shoulders, soothing her tenseness almost immediately. “What happened to our son is a tragedy that may never be avenged. But as he said, the reward for losing his eye was much greater than the pain he suffered.” You whisper in her ear.

She is a good queen, she thinks to herself. 

She is a good queen, even as she lets you fuck her up against the bed posts, mouth cover by your calloused hands once more to keep her muffled sounds of ecstasy hidden from the outside world

-Nene

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks. 

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you. 

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home. 

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid. 

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately. 

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air. 

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,” 

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,” 

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“ 

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there. 

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much. 

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere. 

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,” 

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,” 

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,” 

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred. 

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more. 

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place. 

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed. 

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking. 

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up. 

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil. 

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,” 

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient. 

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,” 

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,” 

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,” 

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,” 

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart. 

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her. 

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,” 

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins. 

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return. 

“Yes, actually,” 

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,” 

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped. 

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,” 

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm. 

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same. 

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys. 

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,” 

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed. 

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen. 

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t. 

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,” 

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise. 

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,” 

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue. 

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it.  Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..” 

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses. 

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine. 

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here. 

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.” 

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles. 

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

 “Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed. 

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,” 

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,” 

“And look where that got me,” 

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours. 

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?” 

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,” 

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,” 

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,” 

“Stop saying that!” 

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,” 

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?” 

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?” 

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy. 

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft. 

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,” 

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden. 

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused. 

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat. 

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead. 

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake. 

“That was not the only way to do that,” 

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion. 

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!” 

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,” 

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher. 

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,” 

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear. 

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,” 

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know. 

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear. 

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,” 

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate. 

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over. 

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about? 

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard. 

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile. 

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,” 

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place. 

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,” 

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car. 

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener. 

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery. 

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her. 

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

                               You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans. 

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,” 

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,” 

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,” 

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?” 

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,” 

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent. 

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start. 

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized. 

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her. 

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both. 

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin. 

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day. 

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind. 

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator. 

Calla Lillies - Beauty. 

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly. 

“You back with me, babe?” 

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely. 

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,” 

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,” 

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation. 

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile. 

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you. 

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips. 

“She’s never reliable,” 

“She is literally compulsively on time,” 

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,” 

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother. 

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again. 

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,” 

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?” 

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,” 

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now. 

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours. 

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder. 

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin. 

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table. 

“So,” You started, chest tight. 

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could. 

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers. 

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last. 

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt. 

“So a win-win?” 

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it. 

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch. 

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,” 

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped. 

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening. 

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear. 

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough. 

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,” 

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped. 

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,” 

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching. 

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?” 

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good. 

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer. 

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy. 

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again. 

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls. 

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room. 

You were in a bed now. How had that happened? 

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on. 

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Would you like it?”

A nod. 

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures. 

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you. 

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust. 

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours. 

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere. 

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets. 

She loved you. 

You loved her. 

How perfect. 

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together. 

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel. 

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling. 

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her. 

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly. 

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you. 

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer. 

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob. 

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate. 

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat. 

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern. 

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,” 

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,” 

Liar. Her grin gave her away. 

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,” 

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride. 

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,” 

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time. 

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile. 

No more secrets. No more sadness. 

You were finally officially a Medarda.

[theoncomingchaos]

Who loves Rook: Spite or Lucanis

I've been seeing a lot of discourse about this, and I just want to add my thoughts.

I might be totally wrong about this, but here we go. When Spite was put into Lucanis, he was still Determination. The fact that he changed throughout the torture, forced insertion, and imprisonment suggests to me that they have been put into a speedrun of a similar situation to Anders and Justice/Vengeance where they have started to meld. (As Anders put it, you wouldn't know where one begins and the other ends). Just like Anders and Vengeance, Lucanis and Spite can have separate consciousnesses and even disagree about things, but their core values have started to influence one another and become a part of one another- heightening certain aspects.

I think this melding is why we see some dialogues where Rook tells Lucanis that he sounds like Spite and similarly it's also the reason for the shared attraction- which I fully believe is coming originally from Lucanis.

I'll be honest my first time through I romanced Lucanis and was very disappointed. I didn't even see him and Neve ever flirt (she only ever encouraged us!) But still, it seemed to go from 0 to 60 with him. Now, I am on my second playthrough and I only just met him, but I am starting to see some really subtle looks and dialogues that suggest that Lucanis wasn't lying later when he said he was attracted to Rook from the beginning, but was afraid to really pursue anything or even acknowledge the possibility of being with them. With his fear of trusting people, ptsd from the prison, failed history in romance, and his new situation with Spite that he still hadn't worked out yet, he never thought anything would or could ever come of his feelings. We know Lucanis loves romance stories and likely longs for one of his own, but in such a situation it must have seemed truly impossible and terrifying to let someone else in. Especially someone you really care for and are starting to trust. So, he pushed it all down. Rook flirts? Maybe a small smile, but then quickly lock it all up with everything else he can't handle. Focus on work. Don't think about Spite, or Rook, or anything difficult.

However, if the melding has already happened as I suspect, then the feelings Spite is expressing are shared with (and likely sourced from) Lucanis, he's just better at expressing it directly- which makes sense for a spirit that was once Determination. When you first talk to Lucanis after the rescue, the thing Spite says about Rook changes accordingly to your tone, but to me the responses still sound like they come from Lucanis and are then echoed in Spite: "He doesn't want to hurt us." Even the "He's more fun than you" is something Lucanis seems to think about himself as he is fully aware that much of his life has not been his own and believes "all he knows is death."

Leading back to the main point, Lucanis's trust and interest in Rook would be heightened by Spite the way Anders' anger towards the templars was heightened. Even though they are finally free from the prison, their is a sense of constant suffering from still feeling trapped by fear, regret, and pain- Spite feels that suffering too. The elements of determination are still within him the same way justice is another side to vengeance. Both spite and vengeance are the results of failing to achieve their goals of Justice and Determination. Spite sees Rook as a way to free them from pain and restraint, a glowing and beautiful key to the prison door, and he is determined to do what needs to be done to solve the problem. That's why he doesn't hesitate. He has no fear. He wants to talk to Rook. He wants Rook to come in and free them.

After Rook has freed them, they become a source of comfort and safety, once they encourage Lucanis and Spite to find a way to cohabit comfortably, the two continue to meld, and the need to protect Rook, to love Rook, to keep them, is very deeply shared. Now, IF Spite was somehow removed or even somehow restored (Both of which I think are impossible) that would likely change. Determination outside of Lucanis would likely become more like Compassion. He would likely forget the horrors he experienced to return to his original purpose.

So, that leaves some final questions, particularly one Hawke helpfully asked Anders- Is Spite an unwilling party in the threesome?

That's up to everyone's own morality. While both Spite and Lucanis didn't have a choice to become like this, it is the situation they are in and the way they have to find a way to accept and live with because there really doesn't seem to be any real way to change it. Through their time together, Lucanis and Spite have influenced each other and grown into something new. Part of that is Spite also loving Rook. In that way, for those who are feeling (rightfully) underwhelmed by Lucanis's romance, Spite can almost be seen as a symbolic expression of Lucanis's love.

All that being said, I think there were some small things they could have done to make the romance more satisfying over all...but I'll save that for another post.

[amomentwiser]

"Why don't you spend time with us?" they say, "Keep your phone away at the table."

Parents say they want to talk — until it's about anything real.

They don't want to know about how their plans for your future make you feel.

They don't want to know your fears, hopes or dreams.

The things you're interested in — your favourite music, games and movies;

Or the things you've come to believe.

Sometimes it feels like parents don't want to get to know you as a person. They only see you in relation to themselves.

Or sometimes they do talk about music and games and movies, and it's even worse — because the conversations you want to have are serious.

And it's worse because it becomes very clear, that they don't want to have conversations that matter. That, god forbid, make them feel.

They want to avoid talking about all the times they yelled at you. No apology, no acknowledgement. Just glaze over those parts and pretend everything's normal. Neither guilt nor remorse.

And you're left wondering whether this thing you have a memory of actually happened, because everyone is acting like it didn't. And whether your anger is warranted, because everyone is acting like it isn't.

An unspoken decision: "Yes, we were harsh earlier, but we felt bad and are being nice now"

The implied demand: "...so be grateful,"

The undercurrent of a threat: "...or I'll get angry again."

And a push to move on: "Why do you bear grudges? Leave the past in the past."

All these little clues, that you learn to read in their body language and their eyes and their vibe.

And then they balk when you don't call them. Or jump at the chance to spend time with them — or even have a relationship.

It's weird, loving people you don't like. That you'd never choose of your own volition; that you'd never be friends had you met in the real world. People you're indebted to anyway, because they took care of you your whole life and changed your diapers and drove you to school, and what friend would ever do that?

Had they been overly abusive I would've cut them off without guilt; if I didn't know that despite it all, they really did love me, I wouldn't have cared about hurting their feelings.

Some people... you love them only because they are family. If they were a boyfriend, I would've broken up with them; if they were a spouse I would've divorced them. Alas, they are my parents, and I'm destined to love them. To give up a kidney for them if need be, but not any days out of my workweek.

I don't have these conversations with my family because I've come to realise that this is something they're not emotionally equipped to handle. Too much self-awareness would bring out memories not only of the mistakes they made with me, but also all the times adults in their childhood failed them; of all the ways they themselves were wronged; all the years they wasted because of choices they didn't know they had; and all the things they wish they'd done differently. So I understand; the flood of anger and regrets it brings to the surface must be draining.

But that also means that I'll distance myself from them, because for me, their misunderstood love is draining. And because this has to stop somewhere; someone has to start choosing differently — and I've decided it'll be me.

[starb3rrys]

I've read your Tecchou breaking down... so would you mind doing the same but for Chuuya?(if it hasn't been done yet)

Like our baby needs to, considering how much he had gone through...

(Also, the comforting person can be either a genderless person or maybe Dazai... your choice)

Thank you ❤️

Aww, you’re right, poor Chuuya needs more love! I have never read stormbringer so take everything I write with a grain of salt. In addition, I apologize for the long wait but I do hope you enjoy this! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )/

☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆

Tired Nights

Chuuya x GN!Reader

Slight angst, Fluff/Comfort

Scenario: The death anniversary of the flags was right around the corner, Chuuyas mood always seemed to be at an all time low around this time of year. Hateful thoughts, regrets, and pain flooded his mind...I suppose even the strongest of people could admit defeat at the eyes of the past || Tecchou Ver.

☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆

On a quiet afternoon, the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the numerous graves of once lively people. Your eyes scanned the quiescent area, locking onto a familiar figure sitting by five lone tombstones atop a hill.

Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked, alerting the once calm man. "Oh, it's just you.", the man said with a small sigh. "Yep, just boring old me.", you said with a neutral tone as you sat on the grass next to the man. "How'd you even find me here? Stalking me now?", the man said with an unintentionally annoyed tone.

"Oh come on, Ive known you for how many years now, Chuuya? I know you like the back of my hand...just like how I know that around this season, every year without fail, you disappear without a word and come to this graveyard.", your voice was confident as you looked at Chuuya, taking notice of his tired eyes.

Your gaze switched to the five untouched gravestones, each reading a different name but sharing the same death day. "Were they close to you?", the question left your lips in a quiet whisper. Chuuya scoffed, "That doesn't even scratch the surface...", Chuuyas hand softly swiped some dirt off one of the gravestones. "They were like my family, honestly, the only real family I've ever had."

Your once confident smile faltered into a small frown, it was rare to see Chuuya like this as you could practically hear the sadness dripping in his tone. "What happened to them?", you asked curiously.

Chuuya let out a shaky breath, "Selfish acts made by selfish people.", he grimaced. "Do you miss them?", sympathy present in your voice.

"Of course I do.", Chuuya said with a serious yet gentle tone."They were good people--maybe not in the eyes of others--but they lived fighting for my happiness...and died for my well-being...", his voice wavered. "Hey...it's not your faul-" "BUT IM NOT INNOCENT EITHER!!", Chuuya cut you off.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Chuuyas face; tears streaming down his face, teeth clenched as his eyes were glaring at you.

"I SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE! I SHOULD'VE KNOWN!", Chuuya let all of his frustrations out. "Chuuya you couldn't have known-" "BUT I SHOULD'VE! I SHOULD'VE DONE MORE! IF I CANT EVEN SAVE THOSE CLOSE TO ME, THEN WHAT IS THE POINT OF HAVING THIS OVERPOWERED ABILIT-Mnh...", Chuuya is cut off as he felt your soft lips on his, after a few seconds he melts into the kiss, instantly calming him down. You pull away and caress his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear, "Its okay...".

Chuuya tears up and moves into your arms, his head resting against your chest as quiet sobs left him. "I miss them so much..." "I know, shh... I know...".

Chuuya let out a broken chuckle, "If they could see me now, they'd probably laugh."

You kissed the top of his head, "They definitely would, you have a lot of snot and boogers right now", a giggle following your playful comment.

Chuuya rolled his eyes and sniffled against your chest, "Shut up..."

"You know you love me, Chuuya~", "Do I?", he asked sarcastically.

You both snickered, bodies close to one another as night overtook the sky...

EXTRA:

"The flags would have definitely liked you..." "Really? How so?" "Cause you're a huge pain in my ass, they'd find you funny." "I mean- not to BRAG or anything, but I make one of the port mafia executives laugh on a daily." "Really? What idiot would laugh at your lame jokes?" "I WAS TALKING ABOUT YO-"

☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆

I love the pookie Chuuya, sadly I'm too lazy to read the translated version of stormbringer without the pictures. I always like making the reader playful yet kind with the characters, mostly because I find that dynamic funny. (Im sorry.) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this story I did in the backseat of my car...16 hour roadtrip!! SEND HELP

[elliespuns]

Quiet the Winter Harbor

Summary: After Ellie experienced unspeakable horrors and was forced into the depths of moral compromise, it shattered her psyche irreparably. Unable to discern if Joel yet drew breath, she began to lose all expectation of his return. Crippled by terror, despair, and utter abandonment—that's the state he discovered her in when he finally appeared, offering a salve to her anguish.

Pairing: Ellie & Joel, father-daughter

Wordcount: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: canonverse, angst, comfort, fluff, found family, platonic relationship, father-daughter, soft Joel, baby girl Ellie, Joel POV, Ellie POV

Note: The one-shot is inspired by real events of Tlou, depicting Ellie's confrontation with David and Joel arriving to rescue her. Ellie and Joel hold a special place in my heart that's hard to put into words. Crafting sweet, heartwarming scenes for them is a treasured pastime that never fails to brighten my day. I truly hope this lighthearted moment I've created brought a smile to your face as well.

Rushing away from the burning building that's slowly tumbling down as the flames lick the air, Joel's arm is wrapped around the little girl's petite back as he's leading her away from the danger. She's trembling. She would never thought that she'd ever go through something like this. Ellie has killed people before, but this? This was different. He was trying to—was he? He definitely was. She keeps replaying the last few moments before her eyes, sobbing softly. She had to do it. She had no choice. She didn't want any of this to happen. Yet it still did, and it absolutely broke her.

The young girl who needs him right now is falling apart right next to him, and he has no idea what to do or what to say. The man Joel wishes to torture to death was trying to hurt her in ways no girl should ever experience. She's so young, innocent and fragile. There are no right words to empathise with something like this.

Instead of opening his mouth to say something that would only make her feel worse, he just gives her shoulder a gentle, loving squeeze with his hand and pulls her closer to him as the tears keep running down her freckles and leaving salty taste on her lips.

She's quiet. He is too. He feels miserable. If only if got there sooner. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness that suffocates him knowing he can't turn back the time to do something, and her little, quiet sniffs are not making this any easier on him. All Joel wants to do is to bring that motherfucker back to life, only to torture him and make him suffer in an agonizing way. Make him experience evil—evils that he had the nerve to put Ellie through.

And even after all this, he still can't believe what a brave and courageous kid she is. Hell of a fighter. He had never seen so much strength in a person before, let alone in a little girl.

When he arrived at the scene and he witnessed what she has done to the man, he knew that he would've done exactly the same thing. Except she's a kid. She shouldn't know what this feels like. Having her clinging to him tighly as she cried, embracing her, he finally realized that she must have gone out of her way to save his life. In that moment, he regretted everything he said to her back at the farm house and from this moment on, he decided to make his life's mission to dedicate his all this kid.

He should do something. Say something. He owes her so much. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have been here right now. Feeling helpless, with nothing but love inside his heart for her right now, he can't take this deafening silence any longer. He stops and crouches down in front of her, putting them at eye-lever with one another. The freezing, snowy path sends an icy cold feeling through his entire body as soon as his knee hits the ground and his hands reach for hers, having her lift her red, puffy eyes on him. "Listen, Ellie. I er… I have no idea what to say because, honestly, there is nothing I can say or do to take away what you've just gone through." He says softly, his voice deep but full of endearment and understanding as he caresses the knuckles on her fists with his thumbs, warming her extremely cold hands.

"Joel, I don't wanna—" She sobs, her words stuck in her throat, her teeth chattering from the cold.

"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for everything. For every damn mean thing I said to you. I didn't mean any of it." He says, regretting the harsh words that left his mouth at the farmhouse before everything went down so fast and he has come to realize that he hurt her. "You deserve so much more." He assures her, his huge palms covering her fists.

"Joel, can we just—"

"No, listen. Listen, Ellie…" He stops her by cupping her wet, icy cheeks that are somehow burning up, wiping her tears away with his calloused thumbs as her sad, pained eyes peer into his and her lower lip quivers. "You are the bravest fucking kid, do you understand?" He says, his voice trembling as if he's on the verge of crying himself. "And you saved my life. No one else would care enough to take so many risks to do that for someone like me." He adds and smiles, his cold hands sticking to her cheeks as he's refusing to let go. "And you still did. You matter, okay? You matter to me. I should've never left your side and—"

It's when his words are cut short as the frail girl in front of him throws herself his way and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his jacket and weepeing softly. "I was so scared, Joel. I was so fucking scared that I lost you." She mumbles into his neck, searching for comfort in the smell of his shirt and coat.

It was as if his heart stopped beating for a second the moment she clung to him. His arms are suddenly taking on a life of their own when they instinctively wrap around her and pull her closer before one of his hands comes up to caress the back of her head as she keeps sobbing, leaving wet traces of her tears in the crook of his neck.

They never embraced each other like this before. Freezing on the cold ground, Joel's knee that's buried deep in the snow to keep his balance steady for her starts getting numb. But he doesn't mind. He doesn't care. It's the warmth of her heart that's softly beating through her chest right against his as they keep hugging tightly, quietly, and affectionately. If it weren't for the howling of the wind, he could have sworn he heard it too.

This girl means everything to him. How did this happen? He has no idea. But he curses himself for all the time he made her life a living hell by constantly rejecting her charming, beamy, and at times, ridiculously goofy personality. She might be the best thing that has ever happened to him after Sarah, and all he has ever done till now was be an asshole. Now he's going to do better with her.

Carefully breaking the embrace, he cups her cheek again. "You don't ever need to feel like you have to talk to me about what happened there, okay? Just remember… if there's ever going to be a day when you feel like laying all this burden out on me, don't hesitate." He pays her a smile. A smile so warm and full of love it made her heart flutter.

She's devastated after all that happened, but this? This smile on his face? Smile that he never gave her before? Smile that says, 'You'll never be alone ever again.' She can't help but nod and crack a tiny smile too, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her jacket. "Okay." She sniffs, her voice trembling as she's doing her best not to cry anymore. She doesn't know how, but Joel is making her feel better. He wouldn't take away the horrors she's still replying in her mind over and over again, but it means a lot. She's never thought that one day this stranger of a man would be someone that she deeply cares about. Someone whose love would mean the world to her.

"Okay, kiddo. I don't want to spoil the emotional moment we have here, but… you're going to need to help your old man." He chuckles, trying to loosen up the tension by using humor—the one thing he knows always wins with Ellie. "I think my knee got stuck to the ground, and I also can't feel it anymore."

Ellie smiles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand before she reaches for his. "You're such a dumbass." She shakes her head and lets a few little giggles out, helping him on his feet.

Slapping the snow and filth off his jeans, he reaches behind him to grab something that appears to look like Ellie's backpack. "Here. I believe you have a few valuable things in this thing." He hands it to her, watching her eyes beam at the sight of her pack that she thought she'd never see again.

"You might be old and helpless sometimes, but you're not totally worthless." She jokes, grinning at him before she flings the pack over her shoulder.

"There she is." Joel chuckles and is head over heels for his baby girl's smile, which he thought he had lost too.

The end.

Author's note: This is not an actual attempt at a fic or a story that has a continuation. This is just a one-shot, which I originally penned for my own eyes only, took on new life once I connected with the kind-hearted community. Their support helped me overcome my anxieties about sharing my work, giving me the courage to finally put it out there.e of it.

[iovetecchou]

If I Can't Have You... ⧸ Jouno Saigiku

༞ Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Contains..! angst, hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, detailed descriptions of anxiety, confessions, regrets, slight physical abuse, happy ending (for one of them...)

GN Reader.

1,237 words.

As Jouno aimlessly walked the block, his mind reeled. The remorse was eating away at him as the seconds passed. He didn't think you would take this so hard, and as much as he hated to admit it, this was all his fault.

That unnerving feeling crept up his spine, becoming increasingly more intolerable.

He knew this was beyond repair- you were beyond repair. He had to let you go. He just had to.

The moment he reached the apartment door, Jouno froze. His hand ghosted over the doorknob. He secretly hoped that when he opened it, you would be there. The 'you' Jouno remembered and… tolerated.

As he pulled the door open, stepping through the threshold of his home, a wave of anxiety washed over him. Something that wasn't very common for Jouno.

"Oh, Saigiku… you're home already?"

You deadpanned, approaching closer to a seemingly distressed Jouno. His head was hanging low, shoulders tense.

"Y/N… I…"

His words caught in his throat. Jouno didn't want to let you go; you were his. But things couldn't go on like this.

"What is it, Saigiku?"

He struggled to swallow that lump in his throat. You used to say his name with enthusiasm. But now it sounded stale, tumbling from your lips.

"I need to let you go."

Your breath hitched, finally showing some semblance of vitality.

"But you said,"

"I know what I said. But Y/N, this has gone too far."

Your heart sank into your stomach. Jouno's words pulled you out of your funk in an instant. But something was wrong. His words didn't offer any form of relief, only more dread.

"I don't understand… I thought this was what you wanted. So what? Now you're just throwing me away? Like, like, I'm nothing?"

You took a step back from Jouno. Your voice was so frail. It felt as though you got punched in the gut. All you could do was gasp for air as the blood in your veins went frigid.

Jouno's head shot up at the sound of your tumultuous state. He took quick strides toward you as you slumped to the unforgiving hardwood floor.

"Y/N… It's not like that,"

Jouno kneeled before you. Swiping away tears you had failed to notice freckling your cheeks.

"Then what is it like, hm?"

You shout, finding your voice as the lump within your throat eased up. Your shaky hands come up to seize Jouno's, that still cradle your cheeks.

"Do not touch me."

You harshly tugged his hands down, solidifying your words. Jouno's anxiety continued to build as you rejected him. He never was on the receiving end, let alone from you.

"You're not nothing… I…"

You observed his distressed face as he desperately searched for the right words. Admitting his faults seemed more challenging than anything else.

"Y/N I lied, okay. I lied- everything I've done was to keep you by my side forever. I wanted you all to myself because I- I love you."

You shot up from your spot on the ground. Your hopelessness morphed into a blinded rage.

"Don't give me that! You don't love me- if you loved me, you would have never done this to me. I trusted you, I believed in you, I loved you! What you call love is nothing more than a means to manipulate me. Keep me right where you want me, forever. If you think that's love, I feel sorry for you."

Jouno was stagnant, mouth agape as he let your words sink in. They rattled him to the core.

He let his fears and insecurities of losing you warp into something malicious. He knew now that everything he had done to you was despicable.

But it was too late.

No amount of 'I'm sorry' could ever mend this.

"You want to let me go? Fine, so be it. But now you're the one who has to live with your choices. I hope that regret eats away at you for as long as you live."

You pulled your phone from your pocket. Calling the one person you knew could help you out of this situation.

"Wh- what are you doing? Who are you calling?"

Jouno crawled over toward you. Grabbing at your ankles as you continued your call. Refusing to waste your breath on answering his questions. Knowing he would recognize the voice coming from the other end regardless.

You tugged your legs away from Jouno's feeble grasp. You ended the call before making your way toward the bedroom. You were determined to get your things and get out as soon as possible.

"Wait! When I said I wanted to let you go, I didn't mean right now. You can't leave me just yet!"

He followed you into the bedroom like a lost puppy. All Jouno could do was listen as you grabbed a duffle, shoving all your belongings inside.

"Frankly, I don't care what you want anymore."

Your words were callous. Jouno could barely process how fast you were slipping through his fingers.

"Stop- please. I can't live without you."

Hearing Jouno's shaky voice as he sobbed out for you was startling. His desperation was something you never thought you would see, especially for your sake.

All Jouno ever did was make you feel worthless. He made you feel less than, that you weren't good enough for anyone. You were especially not good enough for Jouno, and he reminded you of that every time he could.

But now?

He's begging you not to leave, saying he can't live without you?

You felt beyond confused. You knew you needed to leave this apartment and get as far away from Jouno as humanly possible.

"You should have thought about that before you broke me down and hurt me. Time and time again. Teruko should be here soon. She'll get the rest of my things tomorrow."

Jouno grasped your shoulders with an iron grip. He halted your movements as he pleaded for you to stop.

"Please, Y/n! I know I fucked up. I'll be better, I promise. Just stay!"

You winced as his grip on you tightened further.

"Saigiku, let go of me!"

You could feel your blood vessels bursting from where the pads of his thumbs pressed into the sensitive flesh of your arms.

Even now, Jouno still tried to control you. Keep you complacent forever.

"Oi! They said let go, asshole!"

Teruko's voice sent a wave of relief through your whole being. You watched as she barged past the bedroom door, ripping Jouno's hands off you before grabbing your hand. Teruko dragged you behind her petite frame as she glared at Jouno up and down.

"Put your hands on them again, and I'll kill ya. Got that, asshole?"

Teruko solidified her threat with a swift punch to Jouno's jaw. You watched as he pathetically slumped down to the floor. He nursed his throbbing cheek as he listened to your and Teruko's footprints descend the hall.

Jouno's sobs wracked his entire being as he heard the apartment door slam shut.

You were gone for good.

No longer would Jouno hear your laughter or your heartbeat quicken as you read an excerpt from your favorite book.

He will never taste your magnificent meals again nor be greeted by you each night after a long day.

The reality of the situation caused aversion to course through his veins.

He would never see you again.

Jouno had to live with the fact that this was all his fault.

You reap what you sow after all, huh?

woohooo full circle! jouno got what was coming to him btw... hope you all enjoyed this series! thank you all so much for supporting me up til this point! xoxox

taglist: @samicamy-13 @anya-lautner @deadflycomputerlogs @mizu-san @canrdsf @keiaoi811 @budijojo @jdksnxks-hsbs

[munstysmind]

PEEL OFF - HENRY CAVILL

WARNING/S: nothing but fluff, a sprinkle of implied smut and a speck of pain, for like two seconds

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

"Hen please" you beg, clutching the small squeeze tube in your hands "please, please, please, please, please... just this once, I promise"

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and looks at you as you pout and give him your best puppy dog eyes, puppy dog eyes you know he can never say no to.

"OK... ok, just this once" he says, biting back a laugh as you let out an excited squeak and bounce on the spot.

"Have I ever told you you're the best boyfriend ever?" you ask as you take his hand and and all but drag him upstairs into the master ensuite.

"Not today" he tells you while you struggle to climb onto the vanity.

He can't help but chuckle as you let out a small huff and look up at him with a pout before he grips your hips and lifts you, gently setting you on the cold marble surface.

"You are the best boyfriend ever" you say, a smile spreading across your face as you wrap your arms around his neck.

You've never been more confident about a statement in your entire life, he's the best man you've ever known. You'll never understand what he sees in you.

"I love you" he whispers, brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

"I love you too" you whisper back before pressing your lips to his.

He lets out a soft hum and pulls you closer, your legs resting either side of his as the kiss deepens.

"Stop distracting me" you mumble against his lips as he runs his hands up the back of his your shirt, his fingers giving you goosebumps as they brush against your spine.

"You kissed me" he reminds you, nipping at your lower lip before pulling away.

"And you're trying to get in my pants. I'm a lady Mr Cavill" you say, trying and failing to look offended at his actions.

"You weren't a lady last night" he says with a smirk. You bite back a whimper, your face heating up as the memory of what he did to you the night before flashes in your mind.

"Let's get this over with then" he sighs, already regretting agreeing to let you torture him with your newest beauty product.

"You act like I'm about to do surgery on you" you chuckle, pecking the tip of his nose.

"You could be. I've seen you do all this beauty stuff, some of it’s scary" he says, eyeing the mysterious product in her hand.

"You're a big boy, you'll be ok" you tell him with a grin before opening the tube and peeling off the safety seal.

"Is that glitter?" he asks, watching you squeeze out some of the contents onto your fingers.

"Yep" you say, popping the p as you start applying the sticky, glitter filled gel across his face, the tip of your tongue poking out of the side of your mouth as you concentrate.

You've been wanting to do this for months, it has to be perfect.

Once you're satisfied with your work, you spin around and tie the lions mane you call your hair up on the top of your head before applying the gel to your own face, making sure to avoid the fresh piercing on your nose.

You finally got it done after wanting it for well over a year and you’re in love with it, unlike your mother who had a meltdown and proceeded to lecture you about how you’d made the biggest mistake of your life the second she saw the tiny diamond stud.

Thank God she doesn’t know about your tattoo.

After one final check to make sure everything is evenly applied, you close the cap tightly on the tube and put it away in your skin care cabinet behind the mirror before leaning back against Henry’s chest.

“How long until I can take this pixie vomit off my face?” he asks in a deadly serious tone that makes you look at him in the mirror with a frown, questioning what you just heard.

“Pixie vomit?” you ask confused. What the hell is he on about?

“Yeah, looks like a pixie threw up on my face. That or a unicorn shat on me” he tells you with a nod, followed by a grin as you let out a snort.

“Oh my god, Hen” you gasp between your laughter. You’ll never get tired of how he makes you laugh. It’s one of your favourite things about him.

“You didn’t answer my question” he says, pouting dramatically.

“About twenty minutes, give or take” you tell him, pressing a quick kiss to his pout.

“Peaky Blinders?” he asks as he lifts you off the counter and sets you down.

You don’t know why it’s taken you so long to watch it, but you’re hooked. Both of you are.

“Always” you reply, looking up at him with a cheeky grin as you slip off his your tee to reveal your new lingerie piece before walking into your shared master bedroom.

He quickly follows you, hugging you from behind and pulling you flush against his chest.

“You little minx” he whispers in your ear before pressing a few kisses down the side of your neck, making you whimper quietly as you tilt your head to the side.

“You don’t like it? That’s a shame, it was rather pricy. I guess I can return it” you say with a pout, feigning disappointment.

“I didn’t say that!” he blurts out, almost choking on air. You have to bite your lip hard to keep yourself from laughing. He’s so adorable when he’s flustered.

“So, you do like it?” you ask, grinning at him.

“I fucking love it. But I think it’ll look better on the floor though. Much, much better” he says with a smirk before taking your hand and guiding you to do a spin, showing off the lacy emerald green teddy that hugs ever curve of your body perfectly.

You let out a squeal when his hand connects with your bare ass, stinging and turning red as the sound of skin on skin rings in your ears.

“Excuse you, hands you yourself Mr Cavill” you playfully scold, slapping his hand away from you.

He just smirks at you, at least you think it’s a smirk, he can’t really move his face with the mask starting to dry.

“Come on, we’ve got some Birmingham gangsters to watch” he says before getting on the bed and crawling over to his side.

You take the opportunity while he’s in the compromising position to get some payback and slap his ass, hard.

He lets out a yelp and quickly sits on his ass before glaring at you while you let out an evil laugh.

“What’s wrong, Bear?” you ask innocently, biting back a smirk as you climb onto the bed next to him.

“Nothing” he mumbles, making you chuckle quietly as he clears his throat and turns his attention to the TV.

You snuggle into his side as he starts up Netflix, letting out a content hum when he puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer.

You’ll take this, cuddling on the bed and watching TV with your man while your face mask dries, over partying every single day.

Two episodes later and you’ve both forgotten about the glitter filled pixie unicorn concoction that’s well and truly dried on your faces as you watch Tommy offer to flip a coin with Aberama Gold.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @aussieez @rookiemartin @babeyyemor @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @chickensarentcheap @dhoruwolfie @themaradwrites @cali-nyc5 @darsynia @birminghamshelbyboys @wewannasaygoodnight @sweetbunnyliddle @kingliam2019 @sillyrabbit81 @angelcavill66 @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @secretdream2 @livesinfantasyland @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @ktficworld @juliaorplI78 @henry-cavs-tudor @red-write-hand @ladyzee27

[nameis-kj]

Cheater Childe x Reader

This is the alternative to this. In this version, you don't forgive Childe. I prefer this version to be honest. Feedback is highly accepted, just don't straight up hate.

"Please, believe me." He said, reaching for your hand to hold. His eyes were filled with sincerity, his brows not furrowed by anger, but by love. "I want to show you just how much I love you. I've never felt this way before, ever, for any woman as much as I love you. I never want to be with another woman, ever. As long as we're together." He promised, his voice was full of hope.

"I want our marriage to work, genuinely. Please, just... Believe me. I want to believe you. I want to believe that you want to make this work but I just can't. I want to think that you can change your ways and magically make everything better. I want this to work but I can't. I'm sorry Childe. I will be going to our parents and asking for a divorce so we can be separated,” You reply. You just can't trust him anymore. After everything he’s done, you can't be with him.

He felt like his heart had been shattered into pieces by your words. His shoulders slumped as he listened further, all the promises he gave you fell flat. Every effort he made just for you was never enough. He had failed, again.

"No." He said quickly, turning to face you again with pained eyes. "Don't..." He paused. "Just give me one more chance..." He murmured, not wanting to hear any more words from you. "Please." He begs. He wants a second chance, he’s desperate for you to change your mind. 

“I’m sorry, Childe. I need to go see my mother. I need approval by the people who started this hell,” You told him and walked away. 

"Y/n, wait, don't-" He shouted, and reached out for your arm.He was too desperate. He wanted to show you how much he loved you, how he cared. Yet he was too late. You had already been hurt beyond repair. He failed to show you that he truly loved you, and now that was the punishment he must endure; the loss of your love, for it had never been a genuine love. He couldn't even be angry at you for the divorce anymore; after all, he deserved it.

He could do nothing more but to wait, to wait for your parents to arrive, and to agree with your request. He dreaded their response, and the conversation that came with it. He didn't want to be divorced from the person he loved the most, yet there was another reason as well. It was his ego. He didn't want to be the reason for divorce. He had always flaunted to everyone how he's never failed a relationship before.

Perhaps this was all karma for how he treated women in his past?

You go to call my mother, you tell her how and that you want to schedule a meeting between everyone that agrees with the arranged marriage. Your mother hears your side of the story and understands why you want a divorce. She gathers everyone for a meeting and they all hear your story and Childe’s sorry- I mean Childe’s story which is basically yours just more miserable. 

Not everyone takes your side. Some are on Childe's side and some are on yours. Most of Childe's family don't understand why you would divorce such a lovely and beautiful boy.

"Well, would you look at that..." Childe muttered, looking at the formal papers of your divorce. He sighed, and his eyes fell on an empty photograph album. It was an album of the time spent together. Memories and pictures of him and yourself, in marriage. He felt bitter, yet there were faint traces of hope within him.

As he flipped through the pictures and read your texts before they were both married, he realized, slowly and painfully, just how big of a fool he had been in the past. How he let go of something precious.

TIME SKIP

Time passed by, and the days turned into months, and the months turned into years. You both lived your separate lives as if the marriage had never happened. You never heard from him again, and despite some lingering feelings inside you, you still didn't regret the divorce at all.

You went on with your life, finding a job, friends, and other fun activities that brought joy into your life. Your friends told you that you seemed happier than ever - and they were right, you were.

One day, just casually having coffee with your current boyfriend, you heard a familiar voice. You didn't look, but you recognized that voice. Your ex.

The familiar and almost comforting voice made you feel strange, yet you ignored it. You and your lover sat down at the coffee shop, sipping on your coffee and sharing a conversation together. Your lover was listening intently, as you shared the tale of your first love, and how that love had never worked out in the end. He just sighs in annoyance at how stupid Childe was to lose such an amazing person. Suddenly he gets a call, he gets up and goes outside of the Cafe to take the call. 

Suddenly, you felt a warm touch on your back.You turn around and see your first ‘love’. 

“Hello you…” 

You turned around, and it was him. He looked the same as he had always looked - tall, ginger hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a handsome face. His presence almost made the entire café stop and stare, but you didn't want to make a scene.

He looked at you and smiled - it was a sad and bittersweet smile.

"Hello." His voice wasn't harsh or brash today. It was soft, and caring. "How have you been all these years?"

You smile and reply, “I'm good actually. My life has been good, I've gotten a lover, and I have enough money to survive.”

"I'm glad to hear that." He nodded, his eyes lingering for a moment. "I'm doing good, too - I'm in a job that I really enjoy, and I have made tons of good friends." Suddenly, he paused. The coffee shop seemed so quiet for a while, as if just hearing him talk caused time to freeze. "I wanted to talk with you alone," he said, turning back to you. "Can I... Can I sit next to you for a second?" He asked politely, gesturing at the open seat beside you.

“Well not really. That seat is preserved for my boyfriend,” you responded.  Childe looks shocked hearing the word boyfriend. He's upset with that word.  He tensed, his brows furrowing and eyes widening. He didn't think that you would have a boyfriend, because you never really expressed any real affection towards him before - and now she had a lover?

"Your boyfriend?" He asked, clearly hurt. "May I ask who this lovely person is?" He paused. His curiosity got the best out of him.

“He's outside right now! Wow... my first love, which is you, meeting my new man I wonder how this will turn out” you know exactly what you’re doing. You want Childe to suffer. 

He cleared his throat and straightened his back.

"But... Can.. Can you break up with your current lover?" He asked, his voice quivering just a little bit. His eyes darted towards the door of the café, where your supposed "Lover" was standing. "I don't want to compete." He finally spoke, the words barely heard. "Can I have one last chance... for us, to love each other in earnest? I promise I will be your ideal lover, I will make you happy, I will be the love of your life..." He mumbled.

You standing up from the seat made all the heads turn towards Childe. He seemed shocked by your sudden outburst, he could see the anger in your eyes and the way you stood up to face him. However, he remained unfazed.

"I just want you. I want you to give me the love I crave from you. I want to be loved in return, it's not fair." He spoke in a voice that was loud enough for the entire café to hear. "Please, love me," he said, tears welling up in his eyes.

“No. You lost that chance when you kept cheating on me during our arranged marriage. Goodbye Childe. You're ridiculous,” you yelled at him. You tried to walk away. But…

"No!" He shouted, and grabbed your wrist. "Don't walk away! I can change! It can work this time!" He pleaded. "Please." He paused.

His heart was beating rapidly, and his grip was tight. "Give me a second chance to prove to you, how great of a marriage we can have!"

“You would do anything to get back with me huh? Then leave me alone. I'm happy with my current boyfriend. I don't love you anymore. I am free and I'm so happy. I'm proud of how far I have come. I have so much I can do. You need to get your life together instead of waiting for me to come back to you. You're pathetic.” Your voice plays over and over in Childe’s mind.  His grip loosened on your wrist, and he stepped back, but not before he softly whispered.

"Please..." He didn't want you to think of him as pathetic, as a person who was worthless and deserving of nothing. He wanted you to acknowledge that he could be a great man, that he could be the love of your life.

He wanted you, and he wanted to chase that feeling once more. He was so desperate that it almost bordered on obsession. He was pathetic, and he was aware of it. He hated himself for losing you.

“Go get your life together. I can't love you anymore Childe. I bid you adieu,” you say goodbye to Childe and walk away with your lover.  His face morphed into a frown, and he stood there, unsure of what to do.

It hurt to see you happy when he was so miserable. He hated that you were living your life without acknowledging what he had always felt for you. In fact, he loathed the fact that you felt nothing for him - not even a shred of anger, hatred, sadness, or remorse. He wanted to feel loved by you, for you to be desperate for him like he was desperate over you.

He hated it. He hated you for never having cared. How pathetic… 

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 17

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein had finally settled into his new apartment and had just gotten off the phone with his dad about the last payment for the record shop. He had decided to step away from focusing on making the next record to follow another one of his passions. Helvete was his new baby and his record label would be working out of the shop to expand the Black Metal genre to as many people as he possibly could.

He sat at his typewriter and placed the photo Y/n had left him with the day they last spoke on the desk to the left. He kept the old photo of himself, Y/n and Pelle just next to that one. The day she slugged him and wrote him off, she probably would have been surprised to know that he kept that photo in the inside pocket of his jacket.

He stared at the photo for a few moments before putting a piece of paper into the type writer.

"Y/n, Please read what I have to say before you toss this into the garbage. I know it's selfish of me to ask for anymore of your time but you have to know that what we had, in the beginning, that was real. All of the moments we shared where I could be myself with you- if I could have lived in those moments again, I wouldn't change a thing. You were right though, we were always doomed to fail. Our paths are just too different. I want to apologize for how I treated you the night you came to the show. I know the first time I watched Dea-"

Oystein pulls a bit of white out from the drawer and covers the beginning of his name before resuming.

"I know the first time I watched Pelle cut his arms, it was fucked up. I had no idea what to do or how to respond to that. Honestly, I've never really experienced anything like that before Pelle. I knew I couldn't let him know that because I feared it would only make him retreat more. Your response to it was normal and I'm sorry I treated you like it wasn't. I also want to apologize for how I reacted to you in the bar that night. I can't pretend I wasn't caught off guard by the guy you walked in with but that is no excuse for how I came at you. In the time that I spent not hearing your voice or seeing your face, I tried to block out all the things you made me feel. I tried to chalk it up to us being too different or this life scaring you away but that day after Pelle killed himself...I know I fucked up Y/n. I regret everything I've ever said or done that has hurt you even for a second because the only hurt you ever caused me was my own fault."

Oystein sat back in the chair, reading over what he had already written and felt incredibly vulnerable. A part of him really hopes she just trashes the letter and doesn't even bother reading it.

"I've decided to take a step back to focus more on other passions. I have started my own record label and will be operating it out of that corner shop down from Hammed's shop. I know you probably think I've done this to torment you but I've had my eye on that store for years. I want to take the creation of Black Metal and show people what it can truly be. Not all that extra, commercialized bullshit that people think it is now. I've always wanted to do this but I want to show people what we worked so hard on, what Pelle and I worked so hard on."

Oystein looked at the photo again and wished Pelle could have been here for the birth of Helvete. He thinks that a safe haven where he would never be alone is something that could have saved him.

"I know I'm just saying a lot of things that don't really mean shit to you but you were a big part of what kept me believing in myself. I hope maybe you'll give it a second chance and stop by the shop. I would love for you to see what I've created and give you a new look at what I love so much instead of wishing for its demise. I know it will never be what it was before but I feel a piece of me will always be tethered to wanting what could have been between us."

Oystein hated everything he wrote almost immediately but he couldn't just keep starting over. He wanted to send this letter before the shop actually opened in case she decided to show up and put him on blast.

"I know you'll probably always hate me and I understand why you do. I just hope you'll find a small place for me in your heart to at least try and be a better person in your eyes. Please, give me a chance to prove to you that I'm not the heartless monster you think I am."

He read it one last time before pulling it from the typewriter and signing the bottom of it. He would never admit that he actually followed her home one night just to have her address to send her this letter. He would take that to the grave. He knew this was a bad idea but he desperately needed something to keep him grounded. The nightmares he had after Pelle were unbearable. He had never been afraid of dwelling in the darkness until Pelle killed himself. Now he was worried he would sink into the darkness never to be found again. He wanted Y/n to be the one who kept him from losing himself entirely.

yours, Øystein 

[hyxnjnlvs]

Confessions

warnings: kookmin, smut (not too much in this one), stepbrothers trope, possessiveness, jealousy, homophobic parents, offensive words towards LGBTQ+, i think that's all.

Pairing: Jungkook × Jimin

POV: Jimin

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Kisses flew here and there, the smacking sounds our lips created were audible and surprisingly hot, his hands roamed all over my body, and he probably knew every single one of my features by memory, I lost count of how many times we've done this, kissing and doing it behind our parents' backs, and don't get me wrong, we're not siblings... at least not by blood, and because I'm sure siblings wouldn't do what we do, although well... some might... but I'm not going to judge when Jungkook, my mother's husband's son is in my room kissing me and with his hands roaming my body.

I'm going to stop with those details there, because the context of everything is necessary.

About two years ago, my father left my mother, why? She cheated on him, yes, with Jungkook's father, after the divorce, my father left without looking back, without even remembering that he was leaving me too... because they never asked me if I wanted to go with one of them, no, they just decided that I didn't exist in that problem, which left me with my mother, a few months later she married Jungkook's father, who by the way, had a good social status, he wasn't a millionaire, but he had money to waste, something that his dear son did, because he went out partying every Friday without fail and came back early in the morning as drunk as possible, one time he even came home high, something that I witnessed by accident, and I didn't say anything because honestly I wasn't interested in the slightest about what Jeon Jungkook did, we didn't get along, not at all, we just ignored each other and that was it, until my mother had the great idea of ​​going on a trip with Jungkook's father, and they left us alone.

Problem? none, just that Jeon Idiot Jungkook ended up that same day at the police station, why? it was Friday, he was partying and because he was groping and kissing a bitch with a boyfriend, he started a fight, which ended with the 3 of them at the police station and me going for him at fucking 2:00 a.m that same day, Jungkook was angry, and so was I, we fought because of what he did and how he was obsessed with partying and somehow we ended up kissing and having sex, and by the way it was the best sex I've ever had.

So the next day everything was awkward, more than it could have been, again, we ignored each other all day, until at night, he appeared in my room with an unfriendly face while telling me that it had been enough that we ignored each other all day after what had happened, so again, we ended up the same, a crazy and heated night, with the difference that the next day we didn't ignore each other, we spent the day like rabbits without rest or to eat, after all... our parents had left for a week, and although it was the most unexpected thing that could happen, it happened, and I don't regret anything.

Since then it was like that, and we have almost a year of doing it in secret while they are not there, and we usually see each other at university, because he has been there for 2 years, and I am just entering, Jungkook was 2 years older than me...

and that is how we got to the present, and how our "relationship" started...

And this was one of those days when our parents left us alone, because they went on a two-days trip, so here was Jungkook on my room, hands roaming through my body while his lips are on mine, his tongue exploring my mouth with desire, his hands letting behind a hot path on my body which I felt vividly.

"Jungkook..." I said between the kiss, and he answered with a hum while going down to my neck, placing wet kisses. "Don't you dare on doing a hickey or another mark... you know i don't like them."

"You're boring, i like doing marks on you." Jungkook protested while he stopped and looked at me.

"But I do not, i hate using turtle necks just to hide what you did! We're in summer, im not going to use turtle necks." I protested too, because c'mon, who uses turtle necks in summer? Literally no one with self-love.

"So when it's finally winter I can do marks? Because you can use turtle necks in winter." He spoke even with illusion, to which i sighed, rolled my eyes and nodded. "Don't roll your eyes, you make me want to be the one responsible for you rolling your eyes, but out of pure pleasure"

"Blah blah blah, is all I hear, if you want me to roll my eyes, make me do it, you just talk but I want actions, no words" I crossed my arms and smirked, knowing that my words will affect Jungkook.

And I know i did it when just threw me to my bed and started taking off my own clothes to take his own after, so he started kissing my chest, and i felt how his lips went right to my nipples. "Ah... n-no..." he cutted me off. "Shh" and while he was playing and sucking my nipples, my hands were through his hair, messing with it and gripping it, even pulling it when i felt so much pleasure.

His kisses went down and down until he reached the waistline of my boxers, he took them off, a shiver went through my spine when i felt the air which made me arch my back, just right then, Jungkook kissed my legs, thighs and inner thighs, all i could do was moaning at the feeling of his lips, when I suddenly felt his lips around my dick. "Ah! Jungkook-!" He was sucking, his head hoing up and down, my hands gripping his hair and pulling it out of pure pleasure when he stopped and a 'pop' sounded around the room.

I looked at how he stood up and kissed me again, I wrapped my arms aeound his neck to pull him closer, i could feel how he was teasing my hole with his fingers until he finally introduced one, which made me whimper. My hips rocked back and forth to feel more of him, after some minutes i felt how he started introducing one more, he teased me with just two fingers until it was not enough for me, i wanted more, i needed more of him.

"Fuck... i need you inside..."

"What do you need inside, Jimin-ah?" His nonchalant olne and as if he didn't know what I was referring to made me whine. "Tell me specifically what do you want..."

"Ah... damnit..." I didnt want to say ot out loud, but seeing how he refused to do something i did what he wanted, i said it out loud. "I want your dick, Jungkook! Inside, now!" I was desperated, in need of him.

A smirk spread through his face until he finally centrated his dick qith my entrance, introducing the tip and i moaned when he went deeper until he was totally inside. "Ah... fuck... you're always so tight..." He mumbled and stayed still a bit until i moved my hips so he could start.

And of course he did, he fucked me so good always, each thrust was making me see stars, and while he got faster my moans became louder, almost screams, it was me moaning his name and incoherent things. Suddenly he slowed the pace, now it was slowly but harsh thrusts right in that place, a few thrusts made me cum all over my stomach and chest, and some more for Jungkook to cum too, inside of me, because we forgot the condom this time.

He stayed a few minutes like that, inside of me, when he finally went out and I felt the emptiness inside of me, he took a towel from my nightstand and cleaned me and himself, then he went with me inside my bed and we cuddled, we stayed like that until both of us fell asleep.

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A/N: kay, so this is my first fanfic, im sorry if there are wrong things in grammar, engliah is not my first language, also I really like kookmin so yeah, most of my fanfics will be about them, if y'all have another ideas, give thwm to me, or ships, im always open to new ships and i dont think this one will be too long, maybe 3 or 4 parts and an extra like super short and thats all. 🫶

[youvegotrpmemes]

LOOM - Imagine Dragons lyric pack

Everybody's comin' for you, wake up

Bring 'em all together, can you stack 'em in a line?

Jealousy is gonna be your failure, not mine

Got a case of take-or-leave-it

Spit your words, and I'll watch you eat it

What are you to do?

I was wonderin' how your weekend's been

Your girlfriend's gonna be leavin' soon or not?

What could ever go wrong?

Anyway, it's nice to meet ya

She was jealous of our relationship

Prayin' that we make it through the weekend

I hope we meet again

I could do this with my eyes closed

Been takin' every whip and word, I've never been spared

They say tomorrow's never promised

They say that angels are among us

I was born, I was raised for this

Don't worry 'bout me

I've been broken down and beat up but I still get ahead

Killed and resurrected 'cause I'll never be dead

I can no longer stand it

Gonna spend my days tellin' them to can it

No, I don't wanna hear the down low

If you want it, come and get it

And I'm tellin' you I never spare a minute

Can't nobody tell you how to live it

I'm better off alone

Just give me some space

I don't have no friends, ask anyone

How can it feel so good and be so bad?

Misunderstood, and I can't take it back now

Just like I knew you would, you turn your back

Tell me I'm right, tell me I'm wrong

But you know I've been here all along in your corner

You know I've been here all along

No turnin' back, you know I've seen too much

Now I'm here to stsy

I've won, I've lost, I've paid the cost

Gods don't pray

Save it for somebody that cares

You've done your wrongs, and now you feel so right

Fortune is unfortunately volatile

Trust me that the future's looking futile

Try to forget you, but can't find the way

Guess that's just life, I suppose

But I miss you when you're gone

And I know that life moves on

But I can't just replace you with this much regret

Please, don't forget about me

Remember when all that we had was your car?

Even when it's gone, can we just hold on?

I won't forget you

You gotta get yourself together, kid

You got to keep it together

So keep that chin up, young one, you'll bloom

You gotta take your losses as a win

All in time, you will take flight

I don't think I'm strong enough

I don't think I'm enough

And I know you think about everything that I did wrong, but I do, too

I got nothing without you

I fear I might die alone

I fear I might knock and no one's home

Stayin' up these nights, thinkin' everything that I did wrong to you

I'm never enough

And I think I've lost the will

The more we try, the more we fail

But after everything, you're here with me still

I'm so tired, can I please come home?

[crossdressingdeath]

Rook: [Solas] sees a problem, and he thinks of a solution that has huge, horrible knock-on effects. And then he does it anyway, because there's no way anyone else could come up with something better! And it's okay that he did incalculable damage to the world, because he's really sad, you see?

I love it when Rook calls Solas out on his shit. Even when he's not actually there. This is what I've been saying! What a lot of people have been saying in fact!

And I think this dialogue really encapsulates the main difference between Rook and Solas that allows Rook to accept their failures and move on where Solas can't, because... yeah, Solas is really sad about all the damage he's done! But that's all he is, and being sad about hurting people doesn't mean anything if you don't strive to do better. When Rook gets people killed they stop, they grieve, they wish things had ended differently, but then they accept that it's done and resolve to do better in the future. They learn from their mistakes, because doing good is more important to them than being the best. Solas, meanwhile, insists that his plans are the best and never considers the consequences in the future (or the immediate consequences for people who aren't him), and then when those plans inevitably go horrifically wrong for everyone because he just goes with whatever sounds like a good idea to him at the moment he doesn't think about why that happened. He just sits and wallows in how bad he feels and finds ways to blame those idiots who refused to just do what he said because he said so and never for a moment considers that maybe there was another way because obviously his plan was the best plan because he's just so goddamn smart and poor him, if only those stupid mortals could see that he was better than them everything would be fine. He can talk a good game about how he's just a man and he makes mistakes if you give him the opportunity to show off how humble he is, but he never actually internalises that maybe his plans were deeply flawed from the start and trying to do the same thing but from a slightly different angle is doomed to failure (seriously, if you call him on his shit instead of giving him opportunities to play the humble hero he makes it so obvious that he thinks he's better than everyone. It's actually kind of funny given how consistently he fucks up every plan). And so when the next big, awful decision comes around Rook considers what happened before and relies on the expertise of the people around them to avoid the mistakes they made in the past while Solas does the same shit all over again because he's convinced no one could ever do better than him. Accepting your regrets isn't just about feeling bad, which is the mistake I think a lot of people make when it comes to Solas. It's about doing better, which Rook makes a real effort to do and Solas actively avoids because it would mean admitting not only that he failed but that his plans sucked—and frequently were morally bankrupt—to begin with. It's much easier to sit there and wallow than it is to try to be better than you were; Rook recognises that the effort is worth it, and Solas doesn't.

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking, light bondage, blindfolds, shitty parents, nightmares, arguing

Summary: You and Jake work through the details that make marriage work and deal with a few bumps in the road. News from your Dad doesn't help.

Word Count: 5.0k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

A Rose By Any Other Name

You're walking home, (and still in constant awe and adoration of your engagement ring) from the ferry terminal towards your house. When your phone rings, the display showing "Dad". You keep walking and answer the call.

"Elsa, Congratulations on your engagement," your dad practically shouts on the phone.

"Thank you, Dad," you reply cautiously, "Is Mom there?"

"No, she isn't."

You're not sure how to continue the conversation, so you go with the 'running away' tactic.

"Well, I'm almost home, so anything else you want to talk about?" you ask, hoping he says no. The awkwardness palpable even from 2,000 miles away.

Your Dad takes a deep breath,

"Yeah, Elsa, I have a few things to talk about with you, if you want to."

You reach the front porch of your house and sit down on it.

"Umm, yeah, I'm listening."

"I've been doing a lot of thinking about what happened at Christmas. I heard everything; I apologize for being a coward and staying in the kitchen."

You give a small hum of assurance that you're listening. He continues,

"I'm so sorry that I failed you for so long. I know now I should have done more to balance out your mom. It's not an excuse, it's a regret."

He pauses and takes another breath, "I was checked out, should have been there more."

"Dad, what's done is done. This is feeling a little like Cat's in the Cradle," you answer, finally having something to say.

He laughs,

"There's that wicked sense of humor," he pauses, "I want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you and what you've become."

"It's good to hear you say it, Dad, but all our family dysfunction isn't going to be solved in one day."

"I get that, Elsa, I really do. But it's a starting point."

"There's something else I need to tell you, your mother and I are separating."

You croak out a very surprised, "What?"

"Christmas was a wake up call, that I haven't been happy in our relationship for a long time, but I stayed because it was comfortable and familiar."

Jake pokes his head out just as you say,

"It seems like a drastic step to separate, did you guys try couples therapy?"

Jake looks at you and mouths

"Who is that?" to you.

"My dad," you cover the phone and whisper back. Jake's eyes narrow and his brows furrow together. He goes to say something, but heads back into the house.

Your dad has taken his time in responding, he sighs,

"I invited her to go with me, I've been going on my own since Christmas, or find a new one, but she didn't want to go, or try."

Your dad's voice cracks on the word try. He is starting to cry and for the first time in a long time you wish you were in Michigan to give him a hug, this is the most vulnerable moment you've ever experienced with him.

Jake has reappeared and hands you a gin and tonic and squeezes your shoulder as he gives you space to talk.

Your dad draws in a deep breath to settle him and starts to talk again.

"My time left on earth is a diminishing resource,"

you interrupt him, "That's a little grim." He huffs out a soft laugh.

"I had the epiphany that I want to spend it with the people that make me happy, not just out of habit. A big part of it is how she never let go of the argument from Christmas. I won't be with someone who is driving away our children chasing the past. You kind of inspired this, by the way."

"That kind of sounds like I caused your separation when you say it that way," you try to joke.

He laughs on the other end, the tight band around your heart loosens a little.

"That's not what I mean exactly, just you've built this world of people who love you for just being you. Every time you've faced something that would decimate most people, you jumped back up and kept going to do what made you happy. Like you know that the love you share with Jake is worth fighting for, even if it means a fucked up relationship with your mother. I need to do what makes me happy and loved, and right now that's not being with her."

You laugh a bit darkly, trying to keep the tears at bay that threaten to spill,

"Dad, don't know if you didn't notice, my relationship with Mom has always been a bit fucked up."

"Yet another thing I ignored, I've missed so much, Elsa, I'm so sorry for that."

"It's okay Dad, you're at least self aware now, plus it's another thing you can add to your therapy list, you know in case you run out of stuff to talk about. Want to use every minute of that hour, get your money's worth."

"Did you just make a cheap dad joke about therapy?"

He's laughing and you can feel him lightening even over the phone.

"Yes, I did. You're the only person I've ever known to cut open the toothpaste tube to get that last little bit."

"Hey, it works. There's at least two more tooth brushings in there," he's at least joking a bit.

"Well, I'll let you go Elsa, you probably want to eat dinner with your fiance and not talk about an old man's laments. I want you to know how proud and amazed I am at what you've done with your life. I think Jake loves you deeply and he's good for you."

"It's really good to hear that," you pause,

"You might want to consider a trip out here, alone, actually get that visit in. I love you, Dad."

"I love you so much, Elsa."

"Bye."

You hang up the phone and hold the cold drink to your forehead as though the coolness could soothe your inner turmoil. When you go inside Jake is sitting on the couch, pretending to read a magazine. He chose his spot on the couch because he could keep watch over you outside on the porch. A wave of warmth rolls over you to know how protective and loving he is. He starts to get up and you motion for him to stay. Putting your drink on the coffee table, you flop down on the couch next to him. He waits patiently for you to talk and pulls you into his arms.

You break the silence,

"I didn't think I'd have to add 'Parents Getting Separated Likely Divorced' to my Matthews Family Dysfunction bingo card, but here we are."

Jake is visibly surprised,

"That's out of left field, you were talking to your Dad, right?"

"Yeah, he called to congratulate us on getting engaged and decided to let me know about them separating at the same time. You know for efficiency reasons, couldn't have those be two different phone calls," you snort thinking of the range of emotions in one phone call.

"So, they're separated. Any particular reason why?"

Jake is cautiously wading into the emotional quagmire.

"He said he's been doing a lot of thinking and therapy since Christmas, and realized he wasn't happy in their relationship and hadn't been for a long time."

"Wow, you'd think that he'd just run the last mile of the marathon and stay with her and not start over so late in life."

You laugh,

"I got the impression it was more of a 'I'll be damned if I'm going to run my last mile with you.'"

Jake at least rewards you with a light smirk.

"Part of it was my mom's insistence on holding onto the past, he said he wouldn't be with someone who would drive his kids away for something that could have been."

"So, how do you feel about this?"

He pulls you closer for a hug as he kisses the top of your head.

"Surprised and not at the same time, my parents have always been together but I don't know that I ever saw them in love with each other. I remember Dad as a little kid being really bright, laughing, and funny. Always smiling, that started to fade over time, I don't know if that was the toll of a strained relationship or if it was him kind of checking out trying to cope with it."

"I'm glad he's going to therapy, that's pretty smart of him," Jake offers.

"He said he has regrets from my childhood and how he let my mom dominate my life, so he's at least aware of that. He also said he is really happy for us and thinks you love me deeply and am good for me, which I'd have to agree."

You lean over to give him a peck on the cheek. Jake can tell you're still processing the conversation and will likely talk to him again about it.

"You ready for some dinner? I made a stir fry," he asks quietly.

"That sounds lovely," you stand up and wrap your arms around Jake's torso.

"I love you so much, Jake Seresin."

He replies,

"I love you very much, Elsa Matthews, soon to be Seresin."

You know you have to talk about some of the details of married life like keeping your last name, but you're emotionally spent for the day.

–

It turns out that conversation happens very soon on the next sunny Saturday afternoon. You and Jake have convened at the dining table to discuss “Life Stuff” as you called it. A file folder of your financial stuff, your laptop open to your financial tracking software, and Jake's tablet are laid out on the table. He keeps all his financial info electronic so that he can access it from anywhere the Navy sent him.

You start,

"So, I want to get married sooner than later, I don't want a really long engagement because we're trying to plan the 'perfect wedding.'"

"I agree, we'll have to see what's available for locations and work from there," Jake nods.

"Okay, that's good, that's probably a whole nother day of effort, but I thought we'd tackle the hard things first before picking wedding colors, you know the things that actually make marriages work."

Jake is smiling his panty dropper smile,

"God, I love it when you get all engineer on me, planning stuff, solving problems. It's kind of hot."

He smirks as he slides his hand up your thighs under your dress.

"Jake," you stop his hand and pull it off your leg,

"This is important stuff and you doing that is highly distracting and you're not going to get me all wet and bothered to discuss whether we do a prenup or combine bank accounts."

"Okay, I'll behave for now," he raises one eyebrow and gives you that smirk again.

"So, I came up with these things to discuss from my research. Not that this is the only time we'll talk about it."

You look down at your list,

"First, what debt do you have? I'll start, I have," you scroll through your accounts on the laptop,

"$367 on a credit card that is paid automatically each month from my checking account. You?"

He scrolls,

"Credit card only, $582. Also paid automatically each month."

"Okay, that was stupidly simple, by some stroke of luck, we have no student loans, car loans, mortgage, or a crippling gambling problem."

Jake laughs,

"You know this might be easier if we just swap the laptop and tablet with each other."

"Okay," you shuffle the tech around and scroll through Jake's accounts. Checking, savings, credit card, investment account, and what looks like a retirement account. All of which are healthy and reasonable.

You look over to Jake and he looks shocked,

"El, I didn't realize how loaded you are, maybe I should have made you pay for dinner more often."

You laugh,

"Most of my net worth is in this house, I've been maxing out my 401k and Roth IRAs since I started working. That's a lot of it, but also I don't really live an extravagant lifestyle as you've noticed. I drive an 8 year old Honda, probably the second most expensive thing I've bought in the last few years has been my bike. I've been putting the equivalent of a monthly payment for a house, since I don't have one, into a money market account since I bought this place. That's all because I really do earn good money at my job, six figures."

Jake has been nodding the whole time,

"So, level with me, what was your gross salary last year?" he asks.

"$150,000," you answer, waiting for Jake's response.

He has a pleased look on his face, none of the insecurity or jealousy you've seen from guys before,

"Nice, beats my $85k a year."

"It doesn't matter who makes more money, because I think it's our money when we get married which leads me to the next question. How do you want to manage money? Combine accounts or keep separate accounts?"

Jake answers,

"I think that combining is the way to go, it seems complicated and kind of petty to have to balance out every transaction to make things even. If it's one account, it's our money that we use for our lives. You?"

"I'm in favor of the combined account, pretty much for the same reasons. I see you're a member of a military credit union, so that might be the place to have our accounts. We can compare that stuff and choose the best one."

"Sounds good, what's the next question?"

"What purchases can we make individually and what ones do we need to consult each other on?"

"Obviously the big ones, houses, cars, anything that you might consider taking out a loan for. I'm not sure if there's a dollar amount that would trigger it, because spending $500 on a couch is different than spending $500 on shoes. Not that you're the type to do that," he looks at the ratty Chaco flip flops you're wearing.

"Hey, they still work. I'll get a new pair when they break. It's just my Midwestern soul and the ingrained thriftiness. I think it's context dependent too. I'm going to go with the 'when in doubt ask' policy."

"Agreed, what's next? This feels like a job interview almost."

"We should discuss if we want a prenup."

Jake starts,

"I think it would be wise to protect your assets, Elsa."

You scoff,

"It feels really cynical. Like we're expecting this not to work. The big thing is the house, it's in my name obviously, I was considering adding you to it, so you'd get if anything happened to me, or we can set up a trust that automatically transfers it to you. A trust might not be a bad idea if we plan on having kids. Hah, that's the next question."

You look at Jake and he seems a little overwhelmed,

"Are you okay over there?"

"Who knew getting married would be so complicated. El, I don't want the appearance of me marrying for your money. Your mother has already made me paranoid about not being enough."

"Jake, if you wanted a sugar momma, you could have reached way higher. There's plenty of rich old ladies on Coronado Beach looking for a young buck like you."

He relaxes and laughs a little,

"Who says I'm not playing the long game for when you'll be a rich old lady?"

It's your turn to laugh now,

"Jake, this is our house, I need to set up a will anyway and we can discuss options with a lawyer if you want."

Jake looks satisfied with that answer. He looks at the list of questions,

"So, kids, yes or no, and how many?" he asks.

"I do want a family, not giant, but at least two kids. All the only children I know are kind of weird. Seeing you with Ellie and Gigi made something click on in my uterus, because I was definitely filled with the urge to give you babies."

"I'm sure I could help you with that primal urge," he jokes,

"I'd like a family, but as I said before you get to make the ultimate decisions on all of that because it's your body and you'll bear the brunt of it."

"Fair, would we both work if we had kids? I don't really think I'd like to be a stay-at-home mom, I'd like to keep building my career."

"While in an ideal world you or I could take a multi year sabbatical and raise some kids, I'd expect that we'd both want to work, and I'm okay with hiring a nanny or daycare, are you?"

"Yeah, I am. I was a daycare kid as my mom was a teacher. I went during the school year and I think there's some good to it, the socialization. It just depends on finding the solution that feels right."

"Alright, hit me, what's next?" Jake asks, rolling his shoulders.

“How do you feel about me keeping my last name? You've casually mentioned me changing my name."

Jake thinks for a moment,

"I just assumed you would, you know tradition and what not, why wouldn't you?"

"My whole professional life is under Matthews, my patents, licenses, and journal articles. All under Matthews, keeping that consistent is important to my professional reputation. Plus, it always felt a little patronizing and demeaning to me. It feels like a relic from the past when women were just traded around by fathers to husbands like property."

Jake's face twists into a disagreeable expression, his mouth pulled tight.

"I guess, I've always thought of it being a unifying thing, like 'Team Seresin'. Not you submitting to me like property."

He looks worried as he continues to speak,

"Do you not want to be Mrs. Lieutenant Seresin? Were you going to change it for Liam?"

"No, I wasn't and that's not what I'm saying, it's just arbitrary that it has to be the woman who changes her name, do you want to be Mr. Dr. Matthews?"

He shakes his head,

"Why would I change my name? It's not what people do."

"Jake, just because it's been done that way for a long time, doesn't mean we have to do it. We can be committed to each other without the same last name."

You sigh a little louder than you should.

"I just thought that it would be something that brings us together, being the Seresins, a family unit. What if we have kids, what is their last name going to be?" he asks and clenches his jaw waiting for the answer.

"I'm more than fine with them having Seresin as a last name. I wouldn't want to burden a kid with a hyphenated last name."

"You could hyphenate, what about being Elsa Seresin-Matthews?"

Jake raises his eyebrows like he's found the magic solution.

"That's a giant pain in the ass and you know it." you huff, feeling your cheeks heat up. Jake's eyebrows drop and furrow together as he considers what he's going to say next.

"Elsa," you're surprised he's using your full name and not just El,

"I can understand why you wouldn't want to change your name, but it just feels like you're bucking tradition just to do it."

"That's what you got from this discussion? I'm just being contrary for the fun of it? Please stop saying it's tradition, because sometimes tradition is a word for the stupid way we've always done things."

You wince internally at the last part, momentarily forgetting how much of Jake's life is ruled by tradition and the Navy.

Jake's mouth stretches into a thin flat line, his anger telegraphing across the room.

You and Jake are now staring each other down, obviously both angry. You're about ready to leap in for another round like the hot headed idiot you can be when Jake holds up his hands in a surrender motion.

"Let's hold up a second. You've said your piece and I've said mine. I think we need to cool off and separate for a bit before we make this nasty. I know how I can be a righteous asshole when I'm pissed off and I don't want to go there."

You take a deep breath,

"Fine, I'm going to go for a bike ride, might as well use this energy for something."

Jake nods curtly, acknowledging you.

You change into your workout gear and head out on your bicycle. As you round the corner of the block, your phone dings with a message from Jake,

"Went for a run."

You snort that he's also expending angry energy in a physical way. Your conversation plays over and over in your head. Changing your name, beyond the professional reasons, just always felt off. Like you know intrinsically that you're Elsa S. Matthews, PE, PhD. The way Jake didn't really get the professional reasons why keeping your name the same was probably what hurt the most. He knows how important your career is to you. Changing names and not having that continuous professional history could undermine your career. Just another piece of bullshit female professionals have to deal with. Another mile and your white hot rage dims and your brain fixates on the rhythm of "Elsa S. Matthews". The syllables syncing up over and over in time with your legs pushing down the pedals as you try to burn this frantic electric energy.

You stop to look out over the bay and it occurs to you that there is a compromise here, the S standing for Samantha, a name you don't care about. You weren't named for anyone, your mom said she read it in a novel when she was pregnant and liked it. How easy would it be to change your middle name to Seresin? Elsa Seresin Matthews. You can keep your professional name the same, Elsa S. Matthews. That feels right to you, like the joining of names not obliterating one for the other or tacking on a clunky name at the end of a full name.

Your ride home is quick and you fall into the same rhythm as before except to Elsa Seresin Matthews. Desperate to find Jake and resolve this, you pick up your pace.

Arriving home and you put your bike away as fast as you can, desperate to see Jake. You walk in through the back door just as Jake walks in through the front door shirtless, sweaty, and wearing rather skimpy running shorts. His golden treasure trail just peeking out of the waistband. Your brain automatically wants you to wrap your legs around his waist and fuck him as soon as possible, but you know you and Jake need to talk.

You meet in the middle of the living room and start talking at the same time,

"El, I didn't–

"Jake, I was being–"

He cock his head when you laugh.

"This feels like a rom com where the characters fight over something to add a conflict to the plot. Like we both just enter the house at the same time and start talking over each other."

He cracks a smile and starts to talk, "El, I didn't think through all the professional implications of changing your name. I can see how that would upset you, given how hard you've worked and how much your career means to you. I was wrong to diminish that."

You swear you see a light bulb go on above Jake's head. Like he unlocked the Rosetta Stone, and figured out what bothered you most.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're a smart one?" you tell him. He smiles and shakes his head.

"You're right that's why I got upset. I don't fault you for assuming that I'd change my name, a lot of women do. I also can see how it looks like I'm rejecting your name and in a way you."

Jake looks away for a second.

"It stung, and I fixated on us having the same last name as something critical to being married, when it's not."

He takes your hands in his,

"Us being married and committed to each other whatever our names are is the important part."

"I have a proposition," he raises his eyebrow and takes a step toward you. You laugh at him as you stop him with your hands on his chest, his hands landing on your wrists,

"Not that kind of one, yet. Keeping my name as Elsa S. Matthews is important for me, but the S stands for Samantha. A name I have no affinity for, my mom got it from a trashy romance novel. I want to change my middle name to Seresin. A name that means a lot to me and to you. What do you think?"

The panty dropper smile blooms wide and open on his face,

"You're calling me smart, but you are the smart one. I would be very touched if you took my name as your middle name. I was at peace, okay, a grumbly peace," he slightly rolls his eyes, "With you keeping your name, but I really like this idea. Elsa Seresin Matthews, sounds good."

You lean up to kiss him,

"I'm glad. And we just had an honest to goodness fight, didn't we? I think we came through it all right, good communication skills, go us."

You wave a tiny pretend flag with your hand in celebration.

Jake pulls you close to him, and whispers in your ear, his voice low,

"Know what the best part of a fight is?"

A shiver rolls along your spine as Jake drops a light kiss just under your ear. His hands sliding down your back to grab your ass and pull you close to him.

You stutter a little as you answer,

"N-no, what's the best part?"

He smirks into your neck, stopping his efforts to give you a hickey he replies,

"The make-up sex."

A wave of arousal flushes down your body as you gaze into Jake's eyes, the green blown out by his pupils wide with desire. His hands slide from your ass to under your thighs. He lifts you up with ease and your legs finally wrap around his waist. You kiss him like you're both running out of oxygen and you're trying to steal it from each other's lungs. He backs you up to the nearest wall and pins you up against the wall, his legs supporting you and your hands around his neck. You are grinding at each other desperate for some friction. You whine because you're wearing padded bike shorts, and you can't feel Jake like you need to.

"Need more,” you pant against his lips,

“Need you,” he also pants against your neck, where his head had slipped down.

He unzips your bike jersey to get more of your skin against his, and he huffs,

"Stupid sports bra.”

"Put me down for a second."

He lets you down gently and you peel your clothing off as fast as you can. Jake has the same idea and pulls his running shorts and underwear off in one smooth motion. As soon as he can he pulls you back up to him, moaning at the contact of skin on skin. He steadies you against the wall again, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

"I didn't think you'd be able to rip through my bike shorts like you did my underwear," you gasp out as Jake enters you. Jake's only answer is a string of curse words and sex babble, "Fuck, god you feel so good, El. Love you so much."

“Love you so much, Jake.”

He starts a fast rhythm, your mutual need to be close and chase your highs spurring him on. The feeling of being completely surrounded by Jake and his hard wall of muscle, his scent, and the feeling of your sweat mixing as you slide against each other is amazingly overwhelming. Your brain is reduced to one thought as he pounds into you,

“Jake. Jake. Jake.”

Jake lifts you a little higher, grips your thighs a bit harder, and you are seeing stars as his cock hits the deepest spots in you.

"Love you, oh fuck, right there, so good. Don't stop," you plead with him.

The pleasure is overwhelming with each thrust, the room is filled with only your heavy breathing, moans, and the obscene sound of fucking and skin slapping on skin for the next few minutes.

"Touch yourself, El, make yourself come, so beautiful when you come on my cock,” Jake grits out as he grips your thighs and ass harder. You comply, and snake your hand down and start rubbing your clit frantically, trying to match the pace. You look Jake in the eyes and start talking,

"I wanted to wrap my legs around you the second I saw you come through the door, half naked, sweaty, and my god, your chest. Want to fuck you all the time."

Jake's reaction is to pound harder and faster, erasing your ability to form coherent sentences.

“Fuck, El. I want you all the fucking time. I can't believe this pussy is all mine.”

"Fuck, I'm so close, Jake, so close. Come with me, please."

Your climax slams through you like a car hitting a brick wall. Your eyes close involuntarily, and you can see stars dance across your eyelids.

“Fuck, El. Milking me so good, so fucking tight,” Jake grits out as comes, right on the heels of your orgasm. His hot come filling you up as you spasm around him on each wave of residual pleasure. Somehow Jake holds you up through the aftershocks, his head on your shoulder as you catch your breath. He kisses you sweetly on the lips, and says,

"I'm going to put you down now, you good to stand?"

You just nod and hum as he pulls out and sets you down. You wrap your arms around his torso to lay your head on his chest, only to realize how sweaty it is. I pull my face back and suggest,

"I think it's time for a shower, we both are sweaty and reek of sex."

"Excellent idea." He responds, and you can see from the look on Jake's face that he has more thoughts for later.

Chapter 20

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