#i read that for the first time and lost my mind

[earthchica]

Lady Love

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you and Terry have a cute, shy interaction in a library. He tries to ask you on a date but is nervous and slightly shy.

warning: fluff, shyness, use of y/n, kissing, errors, slight cussing, bookworm, wholesome, love at first sight & more.

note: let's get back active in this b*tch...this is something short and sweet. I hope you enjoy it. Spread some love and sweetness on here for y'all...we need to get back to good times and stop all this drama.

-

It was a quiet afternoon at the library. Sunlight streaming through the tall windows cast a warm glow over the rows of books.

You were tucked away in your usual corner, flipping through pages of your latest read, when you noticed a tall, muscular figure browsing nearby.

His light caramel skin perfectly caught the light, and his striking light eyes sparkled like two tiny stars.

As you tried to focus on your book, you couldn't help stealing glances at him. He looked so engrossed in a book on the shelf, his brow slightly furrowed as he combed through the titles.

After a few moments, he seemed to sense your gaze and turned to meet your eyes. Your eyes widened, and you quickly looked down, feeling warmth as embarrassment crept in.

"Uh, hey," he said, his voice low but friendly. A slight nervousness made his words almost stumble.

You looked up again, and he offered you a shy smile. "I’m Terry."

"Nice to meet you, Terry...I’m [Your Name]," You replied softly, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Both of you exchanged shy smiles, and for a moment, it felt like the world around you faded away.

Terry shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind as if he was gathering the courage for something big.

"So, um, do you come here often?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. A hint of an awkward chuckle escaped his plump lips. It was endearing how genuine he seemed, just a bit out of his element despite his confident appearance.

"Yeah, actually, I do. It’s one of my favorite spots," You admitted, feeling braver. "I love getting lost in a good book. What about you?"

"First time...I’m just over here trying to find some new reads,” he said, glancing back at the shelf. “But honestly, I kinda got distracted when I saw you."

Your heart skipped a beat. Did he really just say that? A shy smile crept onto your face, and you could feel the warmth rushing to your cheeks again.

Terry took a deep breath, his gaze steadying on you. "So, I was thinking…maybe we could grab a coffee or something? If you're free?"

His words tumbled out in a rush, and you could see the nervous flutter in his light eyes as he awaited your response.

You could see the genuine hope reflected in his gaze and the slight tremor in his hands as he waited for you to answer.

Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t help but feel that spark of excitement.

"I’d love that,” You said, your voice barely more than a whisper, but you could see the immediate relief wash over his face.

"Really? That's cool… I mean, great!" His smile widened, and suddenly, that nervousness seemed to melt away, replaced by a bright grin that made his eyes light up even more.

"How about this weekend?" Terry asked, his confidence growing with each passing second. “There’s this nice café not far from here."

"Yeah, that sounds perfect," You replied, your own smile growing wider as both of you exchanged numbers.

It felt like the start of something sweet and new, surrounded by the comforting quiet of books and the gentle hum of the library.

As you parted ways, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time. Terry stood there, staring at his phone with a triumphant smile.

-

The day of your date finally arrived, and excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepped for the afternoon.

You stood in front of the mirror, your fingers working through your hair, shaping your natural curls into a cute wash-and-go style.

The sunlight streamed through your window, illuminating your reflection and making you feel even more confident about your appearance.

Sliding into your favorite soft outfit—a cozy yet stylish oversized sweater paired with high-waisted jeans—you feel comfortable and cute.

You completed the look with fresh sneakers, just the right touch for a casual café date. After a final check in the mirror, you grabbed your bag and headed out, heart pounding in anticipation.

As you arrived at the café, you spotted Terry immediately. He was sitting outside, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted tee showcasing his toned arms and a pair of jeans that complimented him.

The sun's warm glow around him made everything about the moment feel perfect. You caught his eye, and his face broke into that bright, genuine smile that made your heart beat.

“Hey, you look amazing!” Terry called out, standing up and giving you a little wave. The nerves you’d both felt in the library were nowhere to be found now, replaced by a comfortable familiarity.

“Thanks, you too! That shirt looks good on you,” you said with a shy smile, feeling a little flutter at the compliment. You both settled into your seats, the chatter of the café blending with the gentle clinking of cups and saucers.

“Alright, what’s your drink?” Terry asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

“I’m all about that vanilla latte life,” you replied, grinning. “What about you?”

“I can’t resist a classic black coffee—keeps it simple,” he said confidently.

As you both placed your orders, the barista whipped them up quickly. With your drinks in hand, you settled into the cozy corner of the café.

The ambiance felt just right—soft music playing in the background and freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air.

You took a sip of your vanilla latte, and Terry’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as you set your cup down.

“So, what’s your favorite book?” he asked, leaning closer, his eyes keen and focused.

“Oh man, that’s a tough one! But I’d say I’m a sucker for anything by Toni Morrison. Her storytelling is just… next level. What about you?” You replied, feeling the conversation flow effortlessly.

Terry chuckled, his face lighting up. “I feel that! I just finished ‘Song of Solomon,’ and it hooked me. But don’t tell anyone, I lowkey love some graphic novels too—like, you ever read ‘Saga’? It’s wild!”

“Right? I love how it blends genres—sci-fi and fantasy. You get the best of both worlds,” you said, nodding enthusiastically.

“I know! Look at us, nerding out over books. You’d think we were at a damn book club or something,” Terry said, grinning, and you both laughed.

As the conversation flowed, you began to discover more about each other.

“So you mentioned working in a restaurant? What was that like?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, genuinely interested.

“Oh man, it was a crazy ride! I worked in a little diner back home. The rush during brunch was no joke! You know how it is—people can get wild when hungry. How about you?” you replied, leaning back comfortably.

“Same here! I was at this small restaurant, but we had some hilarious regulars. One guy would always order the same thing but ask for ‘extra everything.’ Like, bro, chill!” Terry laughed, mimicking the guy’s over-the-top enthusiasm.

“Right? We’d get some characters! I had this lady who insisted her eggs needed to be ‘sunny side up, but just on the sunny side.’ Like, what does that even mean?” You both erupted into laughter, reveling in the shared experiences.

“Man, I miss those days sometimes,” Terry said, sounding nostalgic.

"Yeah... so what do you do for fun?" you asked.

“I love hiking and camping too. Have you ever hit the trails?”

“Absolutely! Hiking is my thing. There’s nothing like being outdoors—exploring trails and soaking up the fresh air. Plus, camping? The vibes are unmatched.”

“Right? I recently tackled this intense trail. The views were unreal! There’s just something about it that makes ya feel alive,” he said, his enthusiasm infectious.

"Sounds cool! I’m all for climbing up to catch the sunrise. Nothing beats being on top of the world, you know?” You shared, and Terry nodded vigorously.

Then, a playful spark lit up the air between you.

“Alright, since we’re sharing secrets, what’s your go-to jam? I need to know if you vibe with my music taste,” Terry teased, leaning closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, I definitely have a thing for jazz. There’s something about those smooth saxophone notes that just hits differently,” you said, shooting him a mischievous grin.

“But rock music? That’s a whole other level. My heart is at classic rock—nothing can top that.”

“Okay, I see you. A rock and jazz lover, huh? We might just have to set up a little jam session, real talk,” Terry said, his tone playful, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Not gonna lie—I'm down! But just so you know, I might just rock some questionable dance moves on the side,” you joked, doing a little dance in your seat, which made him laugh.

“Please, don’t leave me hanging when you do! I’ll bring the popcorn to watch,” he shot back, grinning ear to ear.

The flirty banter kept rolling, and as your coffee cups emptied, you both felt the warm connection growing stronger. The light teasing and shy smiles turned to comfortable laughter and playful nudges.

When the café started to wind down, Terry leaned forward, the intensity in his gaze making your heart race. “You know, I really dig this vibe we’ve got going. It feels easy, right?”

You nodded, feeling an electric connection buzzing between you.

“Yeah, it really does. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much on a first date.”

Terry sighed, his eyes softening as he leaned in just slightly more.

“I’m glad we met at that library, [Your Name]. Feels like one of those movie moments, ya know?”

You laughed softly, a little shy but feeling bold at this moment. “Totally. A meet-cute for the ages.”

His gaze intensified, and the playful energy shifted into something more profound.

“Can I…” he started, trailing off momentarily as he gauged your reaction.

You held your breath, feeling the air between you thicken. “Yeah?”

And without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, closed the gap, and gently brushed his lips against yours.

The kiss was soft and hesitant but deepened as you melted into the moment, feeling the warmth and connection unfold.

As he pulled back, still lingering close, both of you were grinning. “Fuck...I mean, sorry...Wow. That was amazing,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah, it was,” you replied, your heart fluttering, knowing this was just the beginning of something special.

[dearmash1975project]

It was fitting that Brian was the first person I spoke to for this. It was his letter, after all, and the age written on it (age 11), that touched me so deeply that it sparked this whole project. I’ll keep my methods on how I tracked him down close to the vest, so as not to illustrate how easy it is to find anyone in this digital age; needless to say– getting an email back that read “Dear Lily, Yes I did!” was thrilling. We scheduled to speak on the phone and did on July 15th, 2024.

{Interview continued under the cut}

Brian Nores was no longer 11 when we spoke on the phone. Between the passage of time and the life that fills the mind since age 11, he didn’t remember writing the letter until my email.

An email, he told me, that his partner advised him not to answer as it was “probably a scam.” Thankfully for me, Brian is “always getting himself into trouble” and answered my inquiry about a letter he may or may not have sent while living at X address in 1975. In hindsight, his partner was definitely right for being wary.

Brian credited his late father for the letter’s existence and described memories flooding back after reading the words he wrote nearly 50 years earlier. Not long before he wrote the M*A*S*H letter, Brian was a boy scout who wanted to quit. His father instructed him that he could quit, but he had to write a letter to the scout master explaining why he wanted to leave the troop. His dad ‘never let him off the hook for that,’ and it was likely this instillation of values that gave Brian the confidence to speak his mind after the fateful episode aired. [In a fascinating ending to the boy scout anecdote– Brian, who still lives in the area, was at the local frame shop years later where the owner recognized his name and produced the letter, which the scout master was having framed.]

When I asked if he remembered the episode he responded how anyone who has seen it would; he remembered it very well. He recalled being “disturbed” and “shocked” by it. In a world before spoiler alerts, he explained, “the whole world saw that episode and reacted in real time.” As an 11-year-old, but also as an American youth raised on American narratives of war, he remembered expecting Henry to “go off into the sunset” and be okay.

“For me, M*A*S*H ended after that episode.”

Brian watched occasionally after season 3 but had no idea the series continued for as long as it did (M*A*S*H aired from 1972-1983). “It was never the same, certainly.”

Brian was in 5th grade in 1975, and at his young age he had never seen something on TV that disturbing. He told me he reached out to an old friend to discuss the letter, and they reminisced about their lives at that time. “Age of innocence” was the term he used with me. At that point in his life, he had never lost any relatives or experienced any hardships. “The most shocking thing that I had experienced prior to that was a large earthquake in ’71.” For Brian, this episode marked one of the first experiences he had had with death.

It's an extraordinary level of influence to have, that the simple ‘writing off’ of a character can have such an impact on a young life. We often characterize television as a sort of hobby, one that has less of a cachet than movies; but the mechanism by which media compels our emotions is the same.

Brian reflected more on this impact when telling me that The Mary Tyler Moore Show was his favorite series, and he recalled crying at the finale in 1977. He remembered thinking “How could they end this?”

To Brian, television was “taken a little more seriously then.” With one TV, there were fights over who got to hold the clicker when you sat around the set as a family. “You got one chance to watch it.” He explained. “What a different world we live in now.”

Brian still lives in the area where he grew up and drives past his old house and “down memory lane” often. He is still close to two of his childhood best friends. He shared with me some of his thoughts on aging, a topic that still feels “surreal” to him. “Only recently have I started to experience change. Restaurants etc. going away. Everything that we grew up with has changed. TV, movies, roads, politics. I don’t like this!” He laughed. “You look in the mirror and think.”

Brian had no idea that his letter ended up in the archives of our country’s National History Museum. “Really surprised” is how he described his reaction to the news; one of the aforementioned childhood friends was “blown away.”

“What it said to me (...) was that it reaffirmed/reinforced some of the things that my dad told me. Doing the right thing and following through.” Brian shared.

“What a difference it can make. That this moment is occurring because I spent a few minutes writing.”

~~~~

Thank you so much to Brian for granting me this interview.

Subject photos courtesy of Brian: Letter-era Brian/current-era Brian, Huntington Library Garden, California.

Accession information: Photo taken by me, 3 July 2024. “Letters from viewers regarding the death of Henry Blake.” Box 22, Folder 4. M*A*S*H Television Show Collection, 1950-1984, Archives Center, National Museum of American History. https://sova.si.edu/record/nmah.ac.0117/ref359?s=0&n=10&t=C&q=NMAH.AC.0117&i=0

[tiramissyoucake]

omgg i love how reader is trying to postpone having kids trying to act all casual while panicking from the inside so smart but now i’m curious about mark and reader having an actual kid!!

how mark would be as a father? especially during pregnancy and labour, i just know that reader will be mortified rip😭😭 i also imagine a kiddo being an absolute carbon copy of mark lol like reader is basically just a printer so baby and their dad are basically just twins (same eyes, nose and everything) OR WHAT ABOUT ACTUAL TWINS?? omg imagine having not one but two lil copies of mark running around i would’ve lost my mind fr

love ur works<33 i started watching invincible after reading one of your works about mark:)

anon is referring to this post ! thank you !! i appreciate it <3 Probably raises them in a way that doesn't shield them from the truth of Viltrum origins or nature. if he could, he wants as many as possible. he wants a legacy, most of them being close in age given he can't keep his hands off you especially after the first child, you gave him heirs, you may as well be his god. I imagine being pregnant with a Viltrumite of all things would be... yikes, luckily his word is law so you're catered to all the time, he stays with you way more. he could hear about you almost tripping and would go straight home from a business trip. you don't know if its genetics or anything of the sort but the child's powers kick in faster than expected, the baby you used to cradle and presume was just as helpless as you when it came to Mark now stands at the same pedestal as their father, Mark knows you'd feel left out so he plans a lot of family related things, bringing you to safe barren planets for flying practice or general training and letting you watch (he knows Viltrumite strength and resilience is high but he doesn't want to hurt them, he knows his own strength so he would hold back). I do agree that they would look more like Mark than reader, if those genetics make the powers appear faster then DEF they'd look more like him. Your child can't help but notice how sad you are, whenever you thought no one was looking, whenever you thought you were alone, there's a distant look in your eye that wanted something else. it always seeps away too quickly the moment you take note of someone else's presence, especially Mark's as for the amount of children, twins is such a good idea!! but I am thinking of an eldest son -> twins (idk gender yet) -> first daughter -> second son. as always, don't hesitate to tell me what ya'll think

[slutsareteacherstoo]

ME WISHING THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME BC WHAT?!?! You, like Kelvin, pulled out all the stops in this one like whattt

SABRINA?!🤣😭 oh i love her she’s funny

“For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game.”- i love how apt this is for like movement in the brain like a bee buzzing cuz its like that fr. Idk if that makes sense

Not the art hoe 🤣

NO IM JUST LIKE AUNTY FR WHATS THE LINK 🧐🫣👀

This description of Kelvin i feel like ive seen a picture or video of it before and if not damn your imagery is good

KELVIN IS A PREPARED MAN!!!! He had has spennadanight bag together during 101! He’s so true to this!!!!

They both got the shop in a tizzy 🤣

ALSOO NOT THE CHINA/ASIA MIX UP. Black people are so 🤣🤣i love us

Threatening to fuck up the fade over tea? I think about that tweet daily that go, “think of the messiest person you know…it’s a man isn’t it?” Bc 🤣🤣

“…Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only.  "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her." - oh he BEEN smitten. This the type of shit niggas need to say out loud more often. Like fuck nonchalance!!!

Wow Kel! 🥺I also liked his beeline of thought but fuck! Decisions to make 😫

And Brandon and Kelvin are real with each other. I like that. This aint no surface level friendship 😤😤

YEAH BE ORCHESTRATED ALLADAT!!! He said from your smile to God’s ears like wow! 😫 manifesting manifesting 🙏🏿

They are too cute!!! Asia is just as enchanting and smooth as Kelvin and I love seeing her in her element when she knocks him down a bit. Lmaoo not they got caught🤣and love 👀🫣 what they gon say??

“We’re enjoying our time together” 😩 and they support each other, support the other be better and move together as a unit like yes i love this trope!!!

"I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?"  - OMG 😱 THIS CONFESSION. VERY CHALANT!!! VERY CHALANT! I approve 🙂‍↕️🥹

Now Asia going the nonchalant but she did her thing she did her thing 🤪

Asia said we cool but we need to go home RIGHT NEOW!!!!😅😅 but yes all that boo😘

IM IN THE ROOM WHERE ITS HAPPENING *squeals* like im IN THE ROOM this set up and the headiness of moment like 😍

“But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder.” OH YOURE A GENIUS!!!!

"I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." - OH IM UP AND EYES WIDE OPEN FR!!!

Here at KHJ, we turn small ponds to great lakes🤝🏿😭

I meant it, dont make me regret. *plays Ambré’s I’m Baby*

AND DID AS SOON AS I READ THE LINE AND IT MADE RHE ENDING SO 👩🏿‍🍳💋🤌🏿

Chile let me manifest this as a first time - extended edition😅 like shit im giddy and excited like hmm 🤔 im ready for the challenge and confronting all these thoughts if this is on the other side of the reset.

I adored this chapter sooo much!!! Like they are really enjoying their time together even though Chicago got me scared but wow this build up to this moment. Asia’s confidence in saying exactly what she wants and succumbing to the feelings and being in her body and in the moment with Kelvin like yessss girl!!!!!

No but seriously thanks for this. You gave me hope and lit a spark that’s gonna stay alive about whats out there fr 😇🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️💜

Group Project

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.9k

MASTERLIST

"Okay. I think…I think I'm ready." 

For seven straight days, Asia moved through life, reliving her response to Kelvin and feeling like she'd just written a check her ass couldn't cash. The real thing. What the fuck had she agreed to?

As she sat next to Sabrina with her feet submerged in tepid, bubbling water, the reality of sex unspooling from a far away abstract thought into a tangible possibility with only hours separating her from facing her wildest fantasies smacked her so hard in the face she almost choked on the flat champagne sliding around her plastic cup. 

"Are you all right over there?" Sabrina asked without looking away from the laminated list of pedicure options. 

Asia attempted to take a steadying breath between coughs. "I think I'm dying," she sputtered. Another sip of the offending beverage helped force down residual mucus until she was able to speak without her throat burning. "Honestly, that might not be such a bad idea." 

"Oh, girl. You're losing your virginity, not going off to fight on the frontlines. Tighten up!" 

"Sabrina," Asia whisper-yelled before shooting a nervous grimace meant as a smile to a few older women thumping about in the massage chairs across from them. "You wanna tell everybody my business over the PA system or tap folks individually?" 

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina passed the laminated menu of pedicures to Asia before taking a sip of red wine. "I'm just sayin', friend. I came out today to help you loosen up, but you're stressin' me out. If you're having second thoughts, I'm sure your man will let you reschedule. I heard y'all on the phone earlier. He seems nice enough."

"I don't want to reschedule. I wanna do it tonight. I'm just…I don't know. I'm nervous about the before stuff. If that goes wrong, the whole night is ruined." 

Asia had spent the better part of a week trying to negotiate with the truth, only to realize that reality drove a hard bargain. She couldn't escape the rising tide of nascent romance threatening to wash away all her preconceived notions about her place in love land. He had to know their no-strings-attached suddenly developed enough strings to power a symphony.

For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game. 

Then came Kelvin, who, by all accounts, seemed to neatly pack each of her insecurities and hang-ups into a tiny box before chucking them into the wind. Asia couldn't understand why he hadn't dropped the entire experiment to canoodle, with women undoubtedly vying for his attention. She knew falling for your first, no matter what stage of life the experience found you, was a rookie mistake. But, the wrongs felt so right with him. How could she not at least try?

Sabrina paused her perusal of neon gel nail lacquer and smiled at her friend. "That boy likes you, Asia." Her matter-of-fact delivery came with a light chuckle as she pushed Asia's shoulder for emphasis. "He's not taking you on a date and sending flowers to the house because y'all are best pals. You can spend today worryin' yourself crazy, but I'm tellin' you it's for no reason. Get out of your head. Take it from somebody who is just now realizing her man never really liked her."

"Damn. I'm guessing you and Eric are back off?"

"Girl, yes. For good. But whatever, it's fine." Sabrina scoffed, waving Asia off as if her split second of vulnerability was nothing more than an observation about the weather, and smiled. "Today's about you! We gon' get these nails done, grab you something sexy for the art hoe, and teach you how to use lube. Condoms are being used, right?"

Asia's eyes darted around the room to catch horrified reactions from anyone who might've heard her business being openly discussed. "Bitch!" She lowered her voice before responding. "Yes, we are using condoms. I went and got them myself."

"That's what the fuck I'm talking about. I got this silicone-based lube that I know you'll love. Makes it feel like nothing's separating y'all. My girl is rubbing fronts tonight! Yesss!" 

"Oh God," Asia groaned as she slouched further into her chair, wishing she could poof into a thin layer of pixie dust if it meant she could escape embarrassment. "I'm gonna die."

Throat clearing and the grating squeak of leather under shifting weight stopped Sabrina's ongoing teasing mid-sentence to bring their attention to a greying black woman with curiosity etched in her barely wrinkled face. "Now, I know y'all weren't talking to me, but I need the name of that lube. Do I need to order it off the Amazon? I just got Prime from my son for Christmas." 

"Oop. I got you, Auntie. Let me see your phone." 

While Sabrina drew in a small crowd of elders looking to get back in the saddle with some slippery assistance, Asia found solace in another scroll of her favorite text thread. 

Can't wait to see you later Missed your face this week

Kelvin's last message included an air kiss gif that Asia would consider corny if not for the sender. Pitch decks, client meetings, and last-minute PTO set them on paths winding in different directions, stealing away all chances at a face-to-face meeting before they were body-to-body. 

If not for an impromptu call before the sun could fully take its rightful place in the sky, all communication would belong to iMessages full of jokes with no context and memes they considered fully fleshed-out thoughts. 

Asia read each message repeatedly just to feel the flutter of butterflies in every corner of her belly. He liked her. He had to. The sweet messages, the peach tulips bound in a pretty brown bow, and the early morning wake-up call couldn't all be kind gestures from a friend. Right? 

An internal battle between logic and wishful thinking played out in Asia's mental colosseum. She volleyed a million possible outcomes back and forth until stilted buzzing and a quiet trill against her wrist drew her attention to an incoming FaceTime call from the man of the hour. 

She slid in an earbud and then answered, instantly smiling as she watched his chain bob back and forth with every step while he kept the camera positioned below his face. Grown-out facial hair created the right amount of scruffiness to turn the heads of young and old women alike. His baseball cap cast a shadow across his cheeks. A cerulean sky boasting specks of fluffy white clouds and bright rays of flattering light highlighted the gleam in his earrings. It fanned outward, turning him into a walking, talking work of art. 

When he finally realized the call had connected and he had the rapt attention of his lone audience member, he looked down and grinned. "What's all that about?" 

"All what?" 

"That little smile," he chuckled. "You showin' teeth and everything, girl. Must be happy to see me." 

Caught. Asia tried to return to a neutral expression but found her face ignoring mental orders to accommodate more and more cheek burning as her smile grew wider. "Whatever! This is your second time calling. You need something, or you just like to hear me talk?" 

"Both," he answered, splitting his attention between an incoming crosswalk and the screen. The usual playfulness in his tone abruptly dissipated, leaving behind a seriousness Asia hadn't experienced. He looked down at her and licked his lips before speaking again. "I just, um…I wanted you to know that I'm cool with not staying the night. That was one of your rules, so don't think you have to change it on account of me. I'll leave in the middle of the night if that means you're comfortable." 

"I want you to stay, Kel. But only if you want to." 

"I already got my bag packed with extra pajamas and my laptop just in case this turns into a whole weekend. C'mon, now. This me you talking to!" 

Asia lifted a brow, shocked by his eagerness to spend days on end in her cramped apartment. "My bad! Didn't know you'd be so excited for a sleepover with little 'ol me." 

"I'm always excited to be with you," he answered. Dual smiles radiating from opposite ends of the city held steady over the phone until Kelvin pulled open a door and ushered in a harsh mix of sounds. "I gotta go. My boy's already on my ass for being late. He about to lose his tip, to be honest."

Asia's laughter drew attention, forcing her to shoo Sabrina away before she could interrupt. "Go ahead and get your haircut. Let me see when you're – girl, go away!"  

"Tell your girl I said 'hey,'" Kelvin chuckled as he eased his way into an empty barber chair. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer, trying to commit her scrunched nose and knitted brows to memory in case their time together was winding down. "I gotta go. I'll see you later, pretty." 

Her farewell was lost to petty arguments with her best friend on her end and a groundswell of hooping and hollering behind an offending opinion amongst a shop full of men on his side. A huff of air pushed past his lips in a short laugh as he slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. 

His barber and friend, Brandon, shook his head and tapped his foot on the pedal to lift Kelvin to the right height. "That's shorty from the bar that night? China?" 

"Asia," Kelvin corrected, a miffed frown deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth. "And, yeah. That's her." 

"My fault. You be way too secretive though, bro. How did y'all meet? Do you like her? Y'all just kickin' it? Tell me something, or I'm fuckin' up the fade."

Black nylon cascading in front of his face gave Kelvin a split second to decide how much information he could share with his notoriously talkative right-hand man without opening the door to prying questions and needless revelations. 

He scratched at the itching hair on his jawline, trying to appear nonchalant. "We met at work. She was new, I showed her around, and now we cool. Simple." An instant smile betrayed his forced tough-guy act. 

"Nah, you cheesin'! Tell the real story!"

The poker face he'd tried to maintain continued to slip into a full display of all thirty-plus teeth. 

"Alright, alright," Kelvin conceded. For months, he kept the truth relegated to his personal journal and mental interviews with Jimmy Kimmel while he practiced for superstardom in the shower. At least one other person should hear how he willingly tangled himself in Asia Scott's web. "I actually saw her when she interviewed. Bad, bro. I'm talkin' make you stop in your tracks just to watch her walk by type fine. Had me stuck at the coffee bar looking stupid." 

Brandon hummed as he pushed Kelvin's head down to start his cut. "Mhmm. That's how it starts, for real. She said something to you first, or what?" 

"Nah, I approached her. Not even trying to cross that line, really. I was supposed to just say what's up and keep it professional, but I couldn't stop talking after that. Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only.  "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her."

"Sound like you got it bad, my boy."

Kelvin released an air he didn't know he was holding through his nose. "Yeah, man. I like her. A lot, actually. I'm thinkin' about saying something when we go out tonight, but…I don't know. It might not be the right time considering what I got goin' on."

"They must be talkin' 'bout some money in Chicago." 

"And then some," Kelvin added. "Crazy perks, revenue share, development plans. My whole life might change."

A loose connection from portfolio school and an expensive cold brew on a rainy weekday afternoon turned Kelvin's professional world upside down in less than two weeks. Initially, he wasn't interested in a move, even if the current work was no longer challenging and forward motion had stalled. His job was easy, flexible, and enough to pay the bills with a little extra on the side. But, a half-hour chemistry meeting with two creative leads over Zoom ran fifteen minutes too long from vibes alone. Then, solid chemistry turned into a first-round interview with a few department heads ogling over his professional and personal work for almost an hour before promising to keep in touch. Radio silence on their end for over a week convinced Kelvin that the circus was over, and he was free to go back to his life of easy money for even easier work. Hell, he didn't want to live in cold-ass Chicago anyway. 

Then the phone rang. And the inbox blew up. Flights got booked. Hotel arrangements were made. Hasty, last-minute PTO requests were granted in good faith. Tired eyes shielded by blue light lenses watched clouds part over a glittering city from thousands of feet in the air. A non-traditional second-round interview over piping hot pizza turned him into the center of attention. Corporate banter while he sipped freezing cold beer in lower-level seats at a Bulls game ended with a handshake and Kelvin sensing that he'd have a decision on his hands in the coming weeks. 

Asia. She popped into his mind more than a few times while too-cool advertising types wined and dined him in hopes his talent would fill out their roster. All of the progress, all of the accidentally tender moments and slip-ups he knew in his heart were more than happy accidents flooded him with ceaseless anxiety. Sure, he could see them planning weekend trips back and forth to keep the flame alive in a budding relationship. Long-distance courtship wasn't ideal, but he'd manage for her. However, his feelings about the matter were inconsequential. One false move, and he'd be out of a friend and potential lover. The thought alone threatened to upend a night he'd carefully planned since they agreed to their unconventional arrangement. 

The soft buzz of clippers near his right ear rescued Kelvin from spiraling as chunks of dead hair fell around him. 

"Aye, man, I ain't no love expert or nothing, but," Brandon started, his attention far off while he focused on his money-making blend. "You like her. I could tell when you brought her over to us that night, but I ain't wanna blow up your spot. Might as well say something. Why you wanna go to Chicago with regrets? You already 'bout to be up there with a slaw ass haircut because I ain't givin' up no contacts. Lose my number after this, nigga." 

Kelvin kissed his teeth and waved Brandon off. "I deleted your contact this morning if we being honest. Been tired of your ass." 

Shared laughter between two men who'd seen each other, from the naivety of boyhood to the hurdles and joys on the journey to becoming a man, added levity to a bitter inner storm. Kelvin tried to savor the moment and advice without dwelling on impending decisions but found the task harrowing once he popped the bubble they'd created to re-enter the real world. 

Regrets. Kelvin had a lot of them. Skipping out on senior prom, not answering his sister's FaceTime call for free Kendrick Lamar tickets, choosing that sketchy roommate to make ends meet in his first year out of school – the list went on and on. Asia couldn't be one of them. Not knowing if there could've been more would gnaw at him til kingdom come, and he didn't have room to harbor more what-ifs.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Asia, half listening to instructions with sweaty palms and a heart nearly cracking ribs in his chest, Kelvin resolved to use his last bits of nerve to step out on a limb. 

Sax heavy jazz selections wrapped a rented test kitchen and the couples within its walls in a sensual embrace under dim yellow light. Kelvin had TikTok and a favor to thank for snagging the final spot in Shawn and Terricka's coveted Couples Night In cooking course. In one night, he and Asia would take a culinary trip to Italy, complete with expert wine pairings and handmade pasta to bring them together as two parts of a whole. Kelvin couldn't say he was much of a fettuccine, linguini, bow tie, rigatoni guy. Still, he'd never forget how Asia's face lit up when she showed him videos of young women making noodles from scratch. He went to the ends of the Earth and his wallet to orchestrate an experience she wouldn't forget on a night when every detail down to the minute required perfection.

"Are you listening?" Asia asked with a teasing smile as she adjusted the complementary apron, shielding her from what was sure to be a mess if she had anything to do with it. 

He puffed his chest and straightened before clapping his hands and looking around their station at the ingredients in front of them. "Y-yeah. I heard everything she said. Eggs, flour, this thing…" He paused to satisfy his curiosity with a single crank of the pasta roller's handle before continuing. "It's, uh…all here." 

Asia watched him search the depths of his mind for any crumb of retained information, enjoying the way his lips shifted back and forth in pensive silence. 

Overhead light bathed Kelvin in a flattering glow, making the small stud in his ear and the watch on his wrist shine each time he moved his head. A soft black cashmere cardigan cradled strong arms, while his signature crisp white T-shirt displayed his broadening chest. His fresh haircut and trimmed facial hair sent tingles to all the right places, reminding Asia of the first time she noticed he was fine. 

"You're cute when you pretend you know what you're doing." 

Kelvin gave her a half smile without tearing his eyes away from the short list of step-by-step instructions in his hand. "Oh yeah? Only then?" 

"Well, all the time. But especially when you're thinking. Like how you're trying to remember Terricka's instructions when she hasn't even given us any yet. She was introducing the class and telling us we'd be sharing a little about ourselves in a bit.”

A sheepish grin preceded a gentle bump against Asia's forearm before Kelvin's shoulders bounced in quiet laughter. "Why you doin' me like that? If you didn't look so damn good in this dress, we'd have a problem." 

"Oh, so it's the dress?" Asia quipped as Kelvin leaned back for a better look. 

He nodded and reached out to pull her closer by the waist. His lips quickly found a home on her ear to keep their conversation private in a room full of chattering adults. "It's more than the dress. You're gorgeous, baby." 

Sweet compliments mumbled against soft, brown skin drowned out couple after couple sharing their names, length of relationship, and fun facts until a loud hand clap snapped Asia and Kelvin's attention to the center of the room. 

"And you two," Shawn questioned with all eyes directed toward the youngest two in attendance. "Tell us about your love." 

Kelvin gripped Asia tighter and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm Kelvin, and this is Asia."

"Hey, y'all," Asia chimed with a quick wave. 

"And we're…" Kelvin looked at Asia, smiling at her while she smiled back at him, to find an explanation for what they'd been doing for a month. "We're enjoying our time together." His gaze remained steadfast on Asia's bashful grin. "Maybe we'll finish tonight on a different note, though." 

Red wine, teamwork, and a stack of questions printed on thick white note cards would ensure that the pair at least ended their first date with a greater understanding of each other. Asia learned Kelvin was an artist in every sense of the word. He preferred freestyling the tedious pasta recipe when directions called for specificity in every regard. Asia kept them on task, but not without redirecting her excitable companion along the way. 

Kelvin quickly discovered that all of Asia's know-how completely disappeared when faced with kitchen matters. She didn't know a ¼ cup from a half and didn't have any intentions of learning. Her forte was delegating tasks, not sullying her painted fingernails and oiled cuticles with egg yolks and wet dough. 

Separately, they were a clusterfuck of missing parts trying to navigate an arduous task. Together, though, they crafted the best mafaldine their instructors for the night had ever seen from amateurs. 

Tucked in a corner at the far end of the space's makeshift eating area, Kelvin and Asia plucked cards one after the other in a back-and-forth Q&A over flavorful mafaldine pasta bolognese. 

"Mm, this is a good one," Asia said after a sip of cabernet. "What is your favorite thing about your partner? What's one thing you would change?" 

Kelvin twirled pasta around his fork and thought for a moment. "You don't take a lot of shit. I like that you're very direct and in charge of what you want." 

"And something you would change?" 

"That's easy," he answered through a chew. "You're too hard on yourself. I wish you could see yourself how everyone else sees you. I know you think we're all just being nice, but you really are incredible. I love watching you blossom." Kelvin watched Asia digest his words over her glass, the wheels churning in her active mind. He reached across the table to grab another card. "What's one thing you want me to know about our relationship?" 

That I'm falling for you, and I don't want this to end. One hundred answers flooded in at once, but Asia settled on one. "I want you to know how appreciative I am for…all this. You've been kind when you could've called me a loser and left me in that bar to be with your friends." 

"I wouldn't have done that, Asia. Not to you." 

"I know," Asia assured as she dragged the last vowel. "But, you could've. So, thank you for being so kind and patient. By tomorrow, that'll all be done, and we'll go back to our lives, so I didn't wanna miss the chance to let you know how I feel." 

Confusion made Kelvin tilt his head to one side, studying her face under the haze of full-bodied wine and growing affection. "Go back to my life? Where's that coming from?"

"I just mean, it seems like we're coming to the natural end of this thing we're doing. We'll still be friends, but you'll be free to fly. Maybe sweep somebody off their feet. You're good at that," Asia clarified, her smile lingering as the familiar bloom of feelings coursing through her veins made her stomach flutter.

Kelvin placed his fork against his plate before pulling the napkin from his lap and depositing it on the table. No regrets. Now or never. A short laugh brought with it a charming grin aimed at his favorite girl. 

"Asia, I guess haven't been super clear with you from the start,"  He started while motioning for her hand in the center of the table. Asia answered his wordless call and placed her fingers in the center of his warm palm. He leaned closer, hoping she could detect his eyes' sincerity when he finally breathed out, "I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?" 

Asia sat stone still and unblinking for a moment, mulling over words she had only dreamt of hearing from another. An explicit declaration of intent – feeling foreign in her ears but familiar to a heart that longed for reciprocation. 

Her thumb caressed the back of Kelvin's hand as a smile spread her cheeks to their limit and deepened dimples she almost forgot existed. "Guess I'm a better kisser than I thought, huh?"

"Actually, I don't know. Let me check real quick." Metal dragging across stained concrete brought Kelvin's chair closer to Asia until their knees touched, transferring heat between their bodies. His fingers grazed her jawline, never averting his attention from her equally unwavering gaze. "Come here." 

Asia's favorite command, delivered in a sultry mumble, made hair all over her body stand straight up as they moved to meet each other in the middle. 

One tentative peck introduced a slow progression of deep, passionate kisses, translating latent feelings into a language only bodies could speak. A barely audible moan slipped out of Asia's mouth when Kelvin nipped at her lip, reminding them an audience wasn't far away. They pulled away slowly with equally glazed-over eyes and goofy grins.

Kelvin smiled and swiped at Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Way better." He listened to her sweet giggle, grinning back until the sound reminded him of the question left unanswered. "Look, four weeks didn't spark how I feel about you. They helped, don't get me wrong, but I knew I wanted you as more than a friend the second you strolled into that office. If we're not on the same page, I understand. But if there's any chance we are, any chance –" 

"We're on the same page, same sentence, same word. But we can talk about what all that means tomorrow, okay?" Carnal desire propelled Asia forward for another slow kiss and feather-soft caress that threatened to bring Kelvin to his knees. She inched away to keep her lips on his as she spoke. "Right now, take me home. I don't wanna wait anymore."

------

Hopefully, Alister liked SZA. 

As barely intelligible love songs oozed from her Bluetooth speaker, Asia attempted to stifle sounds of pleasure with her forearm pressed against her mouth and one leg draped lazily over her lover's shoulder. Languid, thorough oral affection kept her lower back levitated off the mattress. Soft moaning melding with subtle slurping and smacking treated her ears to a beautiful symphony catered to her. 

Kelvin's fingers pressed into Asia's flesh to keep her steady while he lapped at the beginning of what he hoped was only her first orgasm for the night. Nervousness had him self-conscious. Skills he'd practiced and mastered long before she stepped into his life felt foreign. Was he doing it right? Did she like it? Was she happy? He suppressed the urge to question her satisfaction, instead leaning on every wanton sigh and muffled moan as proof he was on the right path. 

"Oh my God," Asia whispered to the ceiling. "Don't stop!" 

Immeasurable euphoria washed over her naked body as her hips bucked to accommodate electric shocks from head to toe. Hey, eyes crossed behind closed lids. Her toes curled while all ten fingers gripped the sheets. 

"One down," Kelvin thought to himself as he smiled against thighs pressed tight to his face. 

If not for her hand prying his face away after she'd exhausted herself from cumming, he'd start from scratch and bring her to the mountaintop until his jaws locked. But, he relented under her breathless pleas for a break. 

Slowly, Kelvin kissed his way up Asia's belly, making pit stops at both breasts and his favorite spot beneath her right ear before connecting their lips. They groaned at her taste intermingling with remnants of alcohol while their tongues reacquainted in a waltz too perfect to be a sin. He could feel his rational thoughts running south to stiffen his neglected member against briefs, growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

Kelvin shifted his attention back to Asia's neck so he could speak against the spot. "You feel ready or need more?" His tongue sliding across the pulsing stretch of hot skin made Asia shiver under his body weight. He smiled and pulled back to get a better look at Asia's face. "You feel ready. Talk to me, pretty." 

"Okay," she answered as her arms encircled his neck. "Promise you'll go slow?" 

He nodded before dipping his head to peck her lips. "As slow as you need. I'll take care of you."

Years of waiting for someone to cherish her enough to take the plunge had culminated in undergarments discarded across the room and a single sleeve of thin latex covered in expensive lube separating her from the only man to see her in her most vulnerable form. 

This was it. This was the moment. She'd dreamed about it plenty of times, imagining the most minute details, from the weather to how she'd sound at the height of her climax. Mirages filled with rose petals on the floor and a soft breeze coming through the window made up a scenario better suited for a romance novel than the reality of finally releasing pent-up sexual tension.

Asia expected pain for the first time. She'd heard the horror stories and done enough research to know what was waiting on the other side of first-time penetration. Breathing recommendations and practiced facial expressions to mask her true feelings came flooding back to the front of her mind as Kelvin ran his palms up and down her hips to soothe her while he positioned himself at her entrance. She held her breath. Waiting, anticipating limb-splitting fire to consume her body.

But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder. 

Asia gripped Kelvin's tensed bicep while he stilled deep in her heat, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. "You okay," He questioned through shallow pants.

"Mhmm," she hummed before reaching to bring his face closer. "You feel so good already." Kelvin closed his eyes to will away premature release while she pulsed around him. Asia stroked his cheek and arched into his chest to beg him to move inside her. "Please. I trust you, Kel. It's okay." 

As promised, Kelvin started slow, rolling his hips into her for shallow strokes that made Asia's voice hoarse and her head spin. He reveled in the feel of ridged walls greeting his arrival as they tugged and released him according to pace. He lowered himself into the crook of her neck and felt instant relief when she cradled him close. The bed creaked in time to every measured back and forth, adding another layer to the duet their individual moaning created. 

Hot, slick skin on crumpled cold sheets wouldn't allow Asia to drift too far into La La Land. She feasted on Kelvin digging deeper and gripping her tighter while her body did the work to accommodate inch after glorious inch. 

Kelvin tried to remain quiet, tempering each grunt and unidentifiable sound as his hips loosened to find a rhythm perfect enough to elicit high-pitched mewls from the apple of his eye while she dug her fingernails into his back. 

"Look at you," Kelvin cooed as he pushed back up onto his forearms to get the full experience of Asia's face twisting in pleasure. "You're so fucking pretty. Open your eyes." 

"Kel…" 

He moved to bring one leg up to his waist for a new angle. "I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." He waited patiently for Asia to force her sagging lids open enough to reveal the punchdrunk haze of a methodical fucking. He smiled down at her. "There she is. How you feelin'?" 

"So…oh my God…so good." 

"That's what I like to hear. I feel you getting close. You feel that?" 

A long, choppy moan came out before Asia's slurred response. "Mhmm. I think I'm…. mmm, I think I'm… I'm close." 

"Yeah, you are. Relax for me. Breathe deep." Asia tried to keep track of instructions but lost the plot and her sense of hearing the moment Kelvin slipped his hand between them to rub her clit with his thumb. 

The barely familiar coil of release tightened in her lower abdomen as Kelvin rocked into her while whispering sweet everything onto the corner of her mouth. Asia wrapped her arms around his shoulders for stability, anticipating the first wave of heat trying to prepare her body for something more intense. 

Her breathing grew rigid. The world slipped away pixel by pixel. Thoughts turned into mush. Kelvin's instructions returned as fleeting anecdotes. Asia tried to breathe through it but found the task playing second fiddle to the natural tense and release of her thighs around his waist. 

In through your nose, Asia. The reminder pinged around the empty corners of her mind until they found a way to burrow into the only functioning part of her brain. 

Kelvin watched her cycle through a range of all too familiar feelings from overhead, pride, and a competitive spirit he thought he left in high school, convincing him to go above and beyond. He drove his hips a little harder to hear the headboard thumb against paper-thin drywall. Added pressure on her sensitive button was the magic key to turning a small pond into one of the great lakes. 

Asia's jaw dropped to force out a throaty, "Fuck, baby…yes!" before he eased up to allow her to experience all the joy of post-coital bliss without the overstimulation. He'd save that for another time if the universe allowed. 

Sabrina was so wrong about what to expect. All Asia's hang-ups about ending the night unsatisfied or unimpressed were washed away as sensation returned to her fingers and toes. 

"Kiss me." It's all she wanted – Kelvin's lips on hers until her oxygen became his. 

They lay there, hot, sweaty, and still connected at the waist while Kelvin pressed tender kisses on Asia's lips. He nuzzled his nose against hers. "You called me 'baby.'" 

"I know," she answered as she brought her hand up to rub a spot at the base of his neck. "I meant to. Don't make me regret it." 

Guilt smacked into Kelvin like an 18-wheeler, but he maintained his composure to maintain the hopeful smile on Asia's face. "I won't." 

"Good. Don't hold back on me this time. I want all of you." 

"This time" turned into another, a short break and a few more for good measure while SZA sang them into the wee hours of the morning. Kelvin poured himself into making every minute worth Asia's while as a reward for trusting him with her body. 

Chicago and its host of budding issues belonged to another day. He wasn't leaving the room, her apartment, or the city with any regrets. Not while he still had so many more lessons to teach.

-------

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[yandere-daydreams]

exhibit #4 - tickling.

an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.

pairing: yandere!dick grayson x reader (dc).

length: 1.6k.

warnings: non/con touching, mentions of kidnapping, explicit disregard of consent, tickling, prolonged captivity, and obsessive/delusional behavior. dead dove: do not eat.

You weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this position.

Being held in an underground facility for an indeterminable amount of time, you were starting to grapple with. It helped to think of it as a kind of witness protection program – the city’s ever-expanding network of criminals wanted you dead and buried, Gotham’s most prolific gang of vigilantes wanted you alive and able to provide testimony at an upcoming trial, and the best place to keep you in the meantime was one of the many tucked-away safe-havens they apparently had, where only the damp chill and occasional lost sewer rat would be able to find you. It wasn’t that bad. Your temporary living space was more similar to a high-end apartment than a war bunker, and someone was almost always around to keep you company (even if you could survive without the taller, angsty-er Robin’s board games).  If there’d been a few more windows, you might’ve been able to get used to it. You were still looking forward to getting home, of course, but you knew why you were here.

How you’d ended up tucked against Nightwing’s chest, his arms locked around your midriff and his face buried in the back of your shoulder was… less comprehensible.

‘Bonding time’, he called it. There was a movie playing in the background – some b-rated flick meant to make you scream and flinch and melt further into him – and he’d cornered you in the bedroom, insisted that both of you would be more than comfortable on your twin-sized mattress. Of all the bats, he was the most determined to treat you more like a little sibling than an endangered civilian. Part of it (most of it, even) was guilt. He’d been the one to find you in the back of that big, white van; the one to suggest putting you into hiding to the others. Of course he wanted to make you feel comfortable. If you didn’t, he would be the reason why.

You just wished his bids for your forgiveness were a little less tactile.

The leading lady let out a cartoonishly high-pitched scream as the killer’s axe broke through the ridiculously thin door of her bathroom, and you felt Nightwing’s hand flatten against your stomach, prepared for you to startle and shrink, ready to draw you closer at the first sign of a reaction. It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. A shirt that read ‘Sorry I got you sort of kidnapped, please tell me I’m a good hero!’ would’ve been more subtle.

Sighing, you started to push yourself up. He was quick to stop you, of course, drawing back without loosening his grip. “Going somewhere?”

“Mhm. I just need to—” A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat on your bedside table, an untouched glass of water next to it. You could say you needed to use the bathroom, but you’d already used that excuse, too. Less than ten minutes ago, in fact. “—stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a second.”

He hummed, one of his hands falling to your side, where your oversized shirt had ridden up to expose skin. “If you’re feeling restless, you can say so. I’ll talk to B about moving some gym equipment in – let you burn off some steam while I’m gone.” He paused, laughed. “Or I could be your personal trainer. Promise I’ll go easy on you n’ everything.”

Your tense smile faltered. Great.Then he’d have yet another reason to put his hands on you. “Mr. Nightwing, sir, I’m really just—”

“I’ve told you,” he cut in, tone light and saccharine and so incredibly grating. “You can call me Dick.”

“I really don’t think I should know your real—”

“I don’t mind. It’s only fair, since I know yours.”

“That’s different.” It really wasn’t. You hadn’t wanted him to know yours, either. “I’m sorry, but I really just need a couple of minutes to—”

Again, you tried to pull away, and again, he stopped you. This time, though, the effort was hasty, sloppy, and his fingertips brushed against the tender skin just above your hip in just the wrong way. Before you could swallow it back, an airy giggling slipped past your lips – more reflex than anything. Immediately, you stopped moving, and Dick did the same – his hand clamping down around your waist.

You tried to speak, but he was faster, his delight blatant enough to be audible. “You’re ticklish?”

“I’m not.” And then, more defensively, “It hurts and I hate it.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t let you go, either. His hold on you shifted, one arm wrapping around your diaphragm while skirting his freehand along your lower stomach, his touch nearly too light to be felt. Your reaction was instantaneous, humiliatingly so. A crooked smile, a fractured laugh followed shortly by an awkward, painful wheezing sound. You threw your elbow into his chest, but he ignored you, only nuzzling into the nape of your neck. “Yeah, I can tell how much you hate it.”

He was practically dripping with that self-congratulatory, faux-sympathetic confidence. You grit your teeth, biting back a comment about Gotham’s heroes and their faulty sense of mortality, but it was a waste of breath. He was already moving onto his next target – the inside of your thighs, clamped shut as soon as his hand started veering in that direction. That didn’t matter. All it took was the pads of his fingertips grazing over that hyper-sensitive junction for you to lose your composure, kicking out blindly as you coughed up a sound that swung closer to death gasps than laughter.

Dick didn’t seem to mind. When he laughed, it was light, chiming, genuine. He propped his chin on your shoulder, watching your expression as his hands moved over your stomach, your sides, your midriff. “It’s cute,” he muttered, only half-focused on what he was saying. Most of his attention was dedicated to touching you, tickling you, making sure you didn’t have time to breath in-between thrashing fits – let alone resist. “And it’s good to see you lighten up. I don’t think you’ve smiled since the day we met.” Your recollection was swift, spotty. Darkness, adrenaline, terror, and then, relief, light, a smiling face. You couldn’t remember anything beyond that, not beyond what’d been told to you later on. You couldn’t remember whether you’d been happy to find yourself in Dick’s arms, or devastated that you were still being held at all. “You could afford to let your guard down a little, you know. It’s not like any bad guys are gonna be able to find you here – not with me looking out for you.”

 “I don’t—” It was awful, not being able to spit out a coherent string of words without your own dysfunctional body cutting you off. It was awful, knowing he wouldn’t listen even if you could. “I’m not afraid of any—”

“Of course you aren’t. Not when I’m here to keep you safe.” His voice had taken on a strange drawl, blurring around the edges. You felt him shift against your back, his hands leaving your body for one merciful second before finding your shoulders and jerking you onto your back, the motion forceful enough to knock the air out of your lungs. You were never going to get used to it; the freakish strength, the inhuman speed, the bizarre flexibility that meant he was on top of you long before you’d had the chance to catch your breath. His knees dug into the mattress on either side of your waist, his hips slotted against yours. Against your will, you felt something stiff and warm press into your lower stomach, and choose not to put a name to it.

Your chest throbbed, like it was at risk of splitting open. Your body ached, too little oxygen in too many placed, and it took you seconds to remember how to make any sound other than short, pitchy whines. Dick took it all in from above, only partially cast in shadow. Unlike the others, he never wore his mask around you – something about ‘letting his guard down’ or ‘proving you can trust him’, you were sure. Still, you wished he cared more about his secret identity. Even blank anonymity would’ve been better than being able to make out the deep, scarlet blush spread over his cheeks as he loomed over you, to recognize the raggedness of his own breathing and force yourself not to acknowledge why he seemed so strained.

“You’re not smiling.” It was true. You weren’t. Your expression had fallen into a distinct, pathetic grimace – only a touch less strained than the alternative. “Are you going to fix that, or do you need my help?”

In your own defense, you tried. You did your best to force it, to contort your lips into something that could pass for an easy smile, but whatever mangled offering you managed to pull together wasn’t up to Dick’s standards. He sighed, bowing his head and raising his hands. For a brief, terrible second, you pictured his fingers curled around your throat, your body convulsing as you suffocated, but his intentions were elsewhere. The hem of your shirt was caught and drawn up to your chin, far past anything that could ever be considered appropriate. You felt his fingertips drag over the curve of your rip cage once, twice before it kicked in – a searing, full-body laugh tearing out of your chest while you thrashed, your back arching and your hips inadvertently crashing against his. Immediately, Dick buckled – falling against you, hiding his face in your shirt. A second later, you felt something damp start to soak into your shorts, so hot it could’ve burnt.

The minutes passed, but Dick didn’t move, content to keep his body pressed into yours. Teary-eyed and dizzy, you let your head roll to the side, staring blankly at the television just as the credits started to roll.

At least he couldn’t keep you here forever, right?

[pankielovesfan]

The Prime Shimmer breaks Fan's code and that's really cool

I've recently thought more about just how incredibly important The Prime Shimmer IS to Fan's entire story and character, and about breaking apart from the show and helping him put in effort to improve. Even if this was already established and said countless times, I've started to understand it even deeper when I think about it more sooo I wanted to write this out

As the core part of Fan, he loves the show and all its characters. Everything he's ever known and been surrounded with has been related to it and he loves Inanimate Insanity very much and is practically made of that admiration. However, the first time he comes in contact with something from outside the show, it's the shimmer egg. Something he clings to desperately.

The fact that the egg is the first thing he's interacted with that isn't part of the show means a lot to his character, considering how he immediately attaches to it, takes care of it, and values it so deeply. As said by Fan himself on his blog - before he had the shimmer egg with him, he didn't even know how to care. It shows just how significant the egg is for Fan's development in so, so many different ways for representing his path in life. Not sure how to work this into it, but he's mentioned how the egg also helped him feel less lonely.

When he meets them, the way Fan treats The Prime Shimmer in the show is very unique to his character and has always been... so different. He's typically very disconnected from other people, especially with how he's supposed to be a "viewer" for the show, and experiences little to no empathy or care for others because of his love for inanimate insanity as a show, and how he claims to not even know how to care at first. The finale really highlights his feelings for the aliens. He immediately seeks to help them find their other lost child, prioritizing them over his own interests. He really really cares for them, for Fan standards.

All of The Prime Shimmer is so incredibly influential for him to recognize in this way. He actually puts in effort for others instead of sticking to old habits like he does, and I think his general feelings for them are what drives Fan toward progress since what he feels for them is outside of Inanimate Insanity. It's the main hope for Fan's improvement as a person, and I'm very glad Test Tube can still represent that feeling of "being outside of the show" because she came to save him from the ship if that makes sense, she's a part of this to some extent for him. Its lovely.

There's something so beautiful about Fan feeling so much love and protection for the entirety of The Prime Shimmer, creatures that are so removed from the show, something he wasn't made to love or care for. It makes it feel very genuine, caring for it in a way he doesn't care for the other contestants. Through caring about something outside the show, he also learned how to care about Test Tube and recognize her as separated from it, seeing her as an actual person which he rarely can do for many.

It's so fun how Fan can just always tie back to themes of change. Fan, notoriously inflexible and stubborn, allows himself to perceive change and opens his mind to that development to protect the lives he's learned to care for. Starts crying. i think this guy will be the end of me

anyway thanks for reading my insanity.. Fan is willing to try for the prime shimmer which can extend to other people he cares for yay

[gnohomotho]

Hello you treasure ❤️❤️ can you pleaaasseeee write something (fluff/angst/cute) about the recruiter and a plus size reader or a reader struggling with her body? 😭 You write inner thoughts AMAZINGLY and I reeaaaaally relate this would mean so much to me thank you!!

Of course! That is such a lovely idea!

You’re Not Pretty. You’re Unreal. ❦✞

Pairing: The Salesman // The Recruiter x fem!reader Summary: As the prompt says, but I added a little backstory and a nice barman. c: You go through remembering your first encounter to the present, and oh, the salesman intends to show you exactly how beautiful you are to him. ♥ (Right after some light murder.) ˙ᵕ˙ Warnings: Look, it's a very enamoured salesman and some death. I would, in my old age, classify it as erotica but I am still far behind the best of the best. 18+ MDNI, touching, fondling, kissing, grabbing, pushing, lustful making out, implied sexual contact and oral sex, very fowl language and death. (❀´ ˘ `❀) Word count: 4.3k A/N: I have no excuse, and you'll know exactly what I mean the further you read. 𓆩♡𓆪 Gorgeous gif by @phantom-evil Taglist: @storytellers-randomshortstorys @ingstadstarlight @aashleyxjimin @aesthetic-winchesters જ⁀➴ If you like my works, I appreciate every like // reblog // follow // message; it keeps the blog going! ♥ Masterlist ฅ^._.^ฅ

You were sat at the bar, to the side of the corner, so you could watch all the newcomers. The barman knew you by now. You came here often, alone. And he was your anchor in times you both knew to be some very troubled waters.

You studied his features, as you always did. A sweet fellow with a face far harsher than his heart, and arms to match. Each inch of rough freckled skin told its own story. Sometimes, when the night was slow and you had nowhere to go, he'd tell you one.

As he washed pint glasses under the chasms of his watchful dark eyes, red hair shaved on the sides and running down the hem of his ears in neat chops, never intruding on the concentration, he gave you that small knowing smile from the corner of his chapped mouth - "you're safe, lass, don't you worry" - it seemed to say.

You always found his presence comforting. And purely platonically, the way he looked up from a pint with foam stuck in his ginger beard made you laugh.

He never minded that you always asked for the worst possible drink in a dark, smoky bar (tea with some milk - "at least it's not the yuppy shite wi' feckin' sprinkles and a brolly" was the answer to your worry the first time you inquired) and he never minded taking care of those who bothered you.

Though you were rather sure he just enjoyed beating the shit out of people with a good excuse.

Unless...

Your eyes fell a little, memories knocking on your mind's heavy door.

You wandered through your thoughts as you stirred the lightening liquid. The first time his watchful eyes saw you, you had wandered in soaked wearing a dress that barely held, gripping a packet of matches and a single card with a spade motif on it.

He had said, once, at 3 a.m. before closing between just the two of you and some very drunk patrons, that you were such a striking vision - like that of his own folklore. You hated yourself less then, knowing it was nothing but respectful, but you stuck your thighs together and covered your chest.

You hadn't eaten a thing and were still feeling like your presence spilled over.

Back then, the first time...as he was leaning in that stained white tank top tucked into a cut off leather belt, eyes almost caressing yours. That was the first time you felt genuine care for you, asking for nothing in return. He was never intruding, never tried anything.

He said you looked like you were about to announce someone's death or pull them into a river, and they would be thankful to their last breaths. But then, his smile froze a little and his eyes lost their spark. As he looked at the matches, he slid the card into his calloused hands as though it was soaked in poison, and frowned.

"Oh lassie, ye' poor wee thing. Getting yerself caught wi' someone like that."

You remember the way he shook his head, like a man watching a moth fly directly into a candle flame, unable to stop her gentle wings. Wistful and calm, because he'd watched ten moths burn already the exact same way. Even his mouth fell sadly into the ginger storm as he laid a strong scarred hand on the bar, letting his knuckles fall one by one close to your outstretched fingers.

One eye glinted as he chewed on the corner of an unlit cigarette, shifting it to the other side of his mouth. Eyeing the bar patron by patron, watching the door. But he wasn't scanning anymore, he was searching.

"If I touch yer hand, bonnie hen," he hummed to the room, "I might as well get me own epitaph signed, but it need be held tight or get a stiff drink stuffed in it."

You remember the noise as he lifted his head, and the door moved as if on cue. Perhaps a drunk who can't read. Perhaps not.

"Get out ye daft prick, didn't I tell ye already? Closing time! Jist fucking braw, this is." He lifted and flung a rag over his shoulder, straightening to his truly foreboding height to get ready to throw out whoever just tried to get in. But in the commotion, he slid you the card back and momentarily touched the tip of your finger, eyes never leaving the door. Through the gnawed cigarette his lifted mouth corner whispered to you:

"Darlin', go fix yer face to the wee ladies room. Take yer time."

You got the message. Though as you got up, you heard a whisper under his breath as he gave you his harsh but heavy coat to keep warm, eyes positively bludgeoning the door:

"Long time deid ye are, ye scunner."

❥❥❥

The dim yellow lights shone onto your wet hair. You held that one card under them, watching it glisten. Quite the commotion going on outside, you couldn't make out the shouts. Or the amount of hits. Then the voice of the barman, deep and level. Then softer. As if he were...bargaining. You wondered what for, he seemed disinterested in earthly bullshit and you didn't think him one to ask nor beg. You pushed the thought away and examined the card under the orange light.

A playing card, seven of spades. Corners worn from your pockets as you traversed the city.

You remember standing in front of the sink. Hating the reflection. Tired. Cold. You felt your body didn't belong in the clothes and each surface stung. Clung. Revealed too much.

Flesh. You could not get rid of it. It seemed to morph in front of you. Bigger, wider, then momentarily normal. Before morphing into a reflection like that of a funhouse mirror. You huddled into the coat and covered your chest, barely concealed by a soaked dress.

You were lightheaded.

You thought about being sick.

You held your stomach, your hips, your chest, and felt empty. So much flesh. So little spirit. You'd almost scoff.

When did it get so bad? When did it creep up on you, like the numbers of every gram and millilitre? When did your worth become the amount of flesh gone? Hollow cheeks a mark of repaying a never ending invisible debt to exist?

You focused on the other item before the mirror made you actually cry.

The matchbox had a little spade symbol drawn on it. You had found it on the bridge as you gazed at the river below, thinking much the same thoughts.

You took out a single match and watched it burn. Then fall. Then disappear.

Another.

Another.

Life and...nothing.

Heat and...nothing.

A fire to burn down a church and...nothing.

Lighting your eyes momentarily in the mirror before dying once more.

You knew what you were doing - and how wrong it was. You knew the trap you were walking into, the details didn't stir you.

And the bar you found after hours of searching in the rain...had an eight of spades neatly tucked into the flowerpot right outside.

He knew. You knew.

He knew you would come.

❥❥❥

Back to present.

You sat at the bar, and the barman smiled gently once more, cigarette playing in one mouth corner. Eyes growing softer as he watched you stir your drink. He slid a small shot glass your way, and you smiled wide - he knew you don't partake, he knew you had your own issues that prevented it - but he also knew some of the good highland herbs in combination with sharp liquor soothed your mind and soothed the innergoingson.

A man sat next to you, pulling up close. You feel like the both of you are too old for this shit. The barman seemed to read your thoughts.

"Wouldn't do that if I were yerself, lad."

The man didn't look away from you, you could feel him lifting each layer of cloth off you in his mind.

"Is the seat taken?" The stranger mused, giving you a little wink. He wasn't even slurring, not even a good excuse.

The barman said nothing, only eyed him through a pair of hazel coinslots.

And you, against your better judgement, downed the shot and stirred your tea. It stung your throat and laid warmth in your chest, the herbs softly tickling your lips. You saw a glad glint in the barman's face and went back to your tea, smiling in thanks.

Just as you were checking your phone to make sure your...acquaintance...was alright, you hear him lean into you.

The cheap cologne stung.

"Such a pretty girl all alone, waiting for someone?"

You lean back and send off a quick message. If looks could kill...but you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"I don't want to be impolite, but you really should leave that seat."

You hear the barman barely contain a snicker as he pulled another beer and sent it the other way.

The man wasn't giving up. Eyes pinned to your neck, leaning closer in what he surely imagined to be subtlety. Your phone lit up and your gaze softened instantly.

Oh...you sweetheart.

Looking up, you grew cold again. The stranger lifted a hand to touch your hair and you shot away.

"Don't be like that, tell you what...if I go, will you leave with me?"

He was positively speaking to your chest, eyeing you up and down with the motion of a broken elevator. The groan from the barman wasn't lost on you, nor the subtle crack of his knuckles on the glass.

"I'd listen to the lady, if I were half as dimwitted as ye look."

You felt the calming presence return to you, now replaced with an air of something colder. Though he wasn't intervening. And you knew exactly why.

Never disturb a snake about to take its meal.

The barman leaned onto the surface of the bar with folded red-haired arms, smiling a tad too sweetly.

"Unless yer aff yer heid for a game."

❥❥❥

You went back to your tea, eyeing the little maelstrom, adjusting your dress. You really weren't feeling too good today. About yourself, about the evening, about the glint in the eye of the man you knew would come any minute.

You weren't in the mood for an argument. But you knew it had to come. He never did like the things he cherished disrespected. Even less so if they were doing the disrespecting.

The message you sent was only a heart - a black heart, meaning, thinking of you but wary.

He sent back a white one, meaning safe, all good, darling.

Like two crows, gliding on the wind. You smiled into your phone. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe...maybe he would be kind.

Of all the times to wear a white dress, you thought as the sleazy voice disturbed you again.

"I don't mind a good game, if this is the prize," the man dragged you from fonder thoughts and touched your leg. The barman's eyebrows shot up instantly, hand gripping the glass. But he only shook his head, getting up with a sigh, eyes firmly on the door ahead.

Usually, he'd take care of the nuisance for you, but he merely chewed his cigarette and slid it to the other corner of his mouth. A puff of smoke worth a thousand words left his lips as he walked a safe distance, though you heard the mutter.

"Yer well fucked, mate."

❥❥❥

The door closed with a polite tap, no one really looked up. You didn't either, too enthralled by your tea and moving your leg away. The man returned to it from another angle, but you crossed it with the other.

So he tried to catch your wrist with the excuse of examining your life lines.

He didn't get so close as to touch a single finger before a perfectly cuffed hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Do excuse me, but this seat is taken."

You didn't look up, merely smiled into your little swirls. Oh, that soft voice laced with cyanide.

"And so is the young lady."

You closed your eyes and waited for the noise that would make you wince - and you shook as you heard the snap preceding the scream.

An absolute theatrical pitious tone followed, dripping with overplayed regret and care.

"Oh, sir! What an unfortunate accident. It seems you would very much be in need of some medical attention."

The voice you knew so well but still sent ice down your spine when using this tone cooed, circling your ears.

"Let's go take care of it."

The man got up, stunned, nearly sobbing, likely in shock and you noticed the glint of something metallic digging into his back. You were wondering how he became so compliant so fast and sigh into your tea. Does he always have to be so dramatic? Yes, when it comes to you, he does.

"Now, let's get out of the nice man's hair and talk it out outside. If you have any complaints, I would be delighted to hear them."

You exhaled, watching the tall figure drag the man out half limping, holding onto his broken wrist. What a vision that figure was, an imposing presence in elegant clothing draping an arm around the stranger, with the other politely behind his back.

It only took less than a minute after the door tapped shut to hear the muffled screams and sudden shot silencing all else.

As the figure entered once more, he adjusted his tie and smiled your way, charcoal eyes fully falling into you. Nonchalantly he walked up to you, then nodded at the barman. As he sat next to you, pulling you close, you noticed a speckle of red on his round cheek. He caressed your hip, your back, and planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. His hand squeezed you and you recoiled a bit.

You narrow your eyes and gaze into his, tone growing dry:

"You didn't even let him play, did you?"

He cocked his head and blinked slowly, momentarily zoning on the place he gripped, likely taken aback by your lack of warmth.

"Some players aren't worth the ink on the cards."

He adjusts his hair but zones back at you, face so close you can tell quite well the speckle isn't alone. You lean in, nudging his forehead. You cannot stay mad at him, nor ignore how lovely you feel next to him.

"You've a little something on your face, darling."

He raises his eyebrows, strong finger lifting to caress your cheek down to your chin and softly glide to your neck. The tender light touch makes you sigh in gratitude, he could read you like a book.

And...he actually took note of each passage.

He lulled with your head and mumbled softly, closing his eyes.

"We should go somewhere more private to take care of it then. I think you deserve some cleanliness too - I loathe the feeling of my beautiful flower stained with such filth."

You giggle, entirely honestly, and cup his cheek. He smiles into it and rests his head against you.

"Git a fookin' room ye twa," you hear behind you and laugh, acknowledging the warmth in the feigned exasperation of the barman's voice.

You pull away apologetically and try to keep yourself from blushing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just...haven't seen him in so long and I was worried."

The dark eyes from behind the bar positively spin in their sockets as both arms shoot up.

"Aboot him?! Lass, yer off yer rocker. Git out. Git out and have a lovely time far away from me bar."

He walked over to the figure that was still caressing you, half watching the movement, half engulfed in your touch and your presence. Enthralled by your features. As he always was. Like touching a gorgeous flower for the very first time.

"And ye be nice to the young lady. She could use it."

The finger brushing your jaw momentarily stops and your companion gets up, giving a small bow and a smile as he provides the barman with a little something from his wallet.

"Thank you. But I'm always nice to my young lady." He lifts an arm to you, and you take it.

"Shall we?"

You don't have to drown in those beautiful eyes to see the adoration and just a glint of something darker, far more animalistic, far more excited just behind the warmth.

❥❥❥

“What’s the matter?”

The door hadn’t even closed and he was already on you, hands laying on your waist. You didn’t answer, only pulled away from his grip as gently and elegantly as possible so as not to startle nor offend.

“Nothing, it’s nothing…”

His charcoal eyes watched you, travelling around your body, examining, looking for a single clue.

“We both know that’s a lie…” His voice was colder, but he didn’t try to return his touch. You could see his watchful eyes travel up your stomach, up your chest, to each shoulder, then the middle, up your neck.

Checking.

“Did someone hurt you?”

You scoffed.

“No. Your property is as shiny as ever.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Oh. Of course not. You looked away, arms crossed. He didn't move away.

“I could see it the moment I laid eyes on you, darling. Disconnected from the creep. I know your body, I know your language, it was positively screaming at me.”

He zoned in closer, carefully lifting a finger to your cheek again. When you didn’t pull away, he brushed it with his knuckle, humming to you.

“Still is. But you won’t let it speak.”

He turned his head to catch your gaze, but you didn’t look. You were shivering, hating yourself more as he was so kind. Surely he was pretending. Just to get what he wants.

But he didn’t stop. He laid his face to yours, cheek on cheek, as if you were to start a slow dance – and didn’t force you to look. Merely brushed his lips across your skin, letting you feel his presence, his warmth, his reassurance…asking for nothing. Oh, he knew you quite well. Quite well to pretend.

“And you know I despise lying…” he mumbled slowly, lips forming a small round shape on your cheekbone and travelling to your mouth. Softly he used his knuckle to turn your head and find your lips.

“I’m not lying…” you hush into his lips and let him plant the kiss, momentarily letting your guard down and lifting your hand up to cup his cheek. You could feel him smile again and the thoughts torturously let you have a moment before returning to you and burning you alive.

“Oh yes you are, my little dishonest girl.”

His soft lips took yours and you felt the pressure, the tenderness in the warmth and heat of his mouth, tongue gently tasting your upper, then lower lip, before pulling away. You felt a hand on your stomach and practically jumped.

“Is it…?”

“No!” You almost shouted, clearly offended, and threw your hands up stepping away. You couldn't look at him as your thoughts got the better of you.

“If that’s all I’m good for…is that what you want? I must be so stupid...so blind. I can't even look at myself, but at least I'm good enough for that?”

Your left eye was beginning to sparkle. You felt like you were being strangled, and he was offering you air you couldn’t breathe. It hurt even more than being actively deprived of it.

“Good enough to throw against a wall, not good enough to be human. Or even barely human, when it comes to you. Good enough to sleep with, not good enough to love. God knows if that were ever true. A connoisseur going for a cheap imitation with peeling paint and rusted edges, falling apart from its weight alone? God, I am so stupid. I’m sorry. I must have been more dishonest than even you could have thought.”

The tear fell and you looked away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry and I will leave now.”

He blinked, expression frozen and utterly unreadable. His body was unmoving, his hands showing not a hint of motion. You clearly said too much and the gears were turning slowly, meticulously, and you fully expected him to either walk out or forget he ever cared. Or simply nod and clear the way.

But he didn’t speak. He only slowly approached you, straightened to his full height and calculated in each step. As if you were a wounded crow about to use its last bastion of strength to peck his eyes out. Slowly an arm moved around you and pulled you close by the small of your back.

Avoiding your hips, gently laying his chest on yours, the salesman exhaled softly into your hair. Feeling no resistance from you, he used one strong palm to push your head under his chin so you could hear his heartbeat.

Rapid, fast, utterly betraying the cold stance he was projecting.

He wanted you to know.

He wanted you safe – and he wanted you to know his heart was as true as his demeanour was not.

As he caressed your head and hair, repeating a slow, gentle motion, he swayed with you almost unnoticeably. Just enough to not let you freeze, not let the paralysis in. Dancing you to the end of love, you bitterly thought. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you closed your eyes.

“That bad?”

And you knew there was a whole world of understanding in those two words alone.

You placed a single nod into his chest.

“Have I ever told you you’re the most beautiful flower I have ever laid eyes upon?”

You nodded again.

“And have I ever told you that the garden pales in comparison so much that the flower has learnt to hide her petals?”

You don’t move.

“And when she first opened up to me, like a lily to the heat, I could not believe my eyes. Nor my mind. Nor my luck.”

You gently allowed yourself to smile and swayed with him. His voice was strong, but the little hops in intonation you could feel bobbing against your head and chest gave it away.

“And there was so much briar growing around her, so many thorns and filth, strangling her tender stem…every day I vowed to pluck it. To keep it safe. But I wanted to let her grow. Now I see the briar strangled my rose and she’s barely here with me. Barely opening to me, loathing her own petals."

A little pause and...

"I’m sorry.”

He pulled your head up just a tad, just so you could meet his lips.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to tend to you.”

His expression momentarily softened, frowning a little too theatrically.

“Poor thing. You thought I’d let you go just like that?”

There he is.

He kissed your forehead.

“Just let you walk out?”

He kissed your cheeks, one by one.

“I don’t leave the game until the dealer is dead.”

Suddenly, you could feel his hands grip yours – not gripping your body but keeping you from moving an inch and holding you down. One foot slid between yours, nudging them and keeping them apart. Oh, he listened to you, heard you, understood you – and he’s still playing the game by your own terrible rules.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or give a standing ovation.

“A true gambler, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He nudged your feet apart further and pushed his body against you, still not overstepping yet playfully towing the line like it was as thin as a spider’s web.

You could feel his excitement, you could feel his need – and you could feel his restraint, which melted you entirely.

“Let me play for you.”

His breath was faster now, hot on your ear. His whispers made you shiver in the warmest of ways as the suit brushed your skin in its closeness.

“If I make you believe what I see each time I look at you, I win a favour.”

You smiled, the hint of sadness still in the corner, but melting...melting slowly.

“Deal.”

“Are you sure?”

He purred in your ear, a hint of breathlessness to the heat, hand leaving yours to stop just before your ribs, hovering above your hips and playing with the air around.

Teasing. Smiling. Waiting.

A subtle nod that he caught sent his hand to your side, and you tried not to flinch. The strong fingers grip your flesh and you wince. His breath nearly stops as his hand fully connects with your skin.

“God, you are ethereal...I almost forgot my own rule. Every win is non-rescindable. Each part you give me is mine to do with as I please.”

He pulled you close now, and slowly began to push you, step by step, into the cold wall behind you. As he leaned you against it and bent to kiss your neck, he mumbled into your skin.

“Still want to play, little lady?”

You gasped as he bit your neck, suckling on your skin and traveling lower. Trailing your collarbones with kisses. Your chest heaved towards him, half from the cold of the wall behind you, half for reasons that don't belong in polite company.

You gasp and whimper, bestowing the air with sounds that send him straight into overdrive. His hands grip you so hard you twist, his body thrusts into yours and his lips claim every place he brushed with a fierce appetite.

One hand finds your head, your hair, and pulls – pulls hard enough to force your head to crane back and your neck to expose before him. As a single finger hooks itself in the hem of your neckline, he pulls away, breath fast, eyes wild. Beads of sweat forming on his perfect forehead.

“I’m waiting.”

“Make me feel…like what you see…? I don’t…believe that’s…possible.”

You try to sound as assertive as you can and fail miserably, your body quivering under him – begging for him wordlessly. And you know he knows you know. Oh, he revels in it.

A single hand ghosting the air around your neck was enough to make you half close your eyes and exhale that soft, skipped breath that he loved so much. The breath he loved to turn into a barely breathing moan for him – and his hand almost gripped your neck, forcing you to look up, forcing you to drown in those beautiful dark eyes while gasping for air.

And you do what you know is exactly what your red-haired protector warned you about. Precisely what your body was quivering for yet fearing.

You nudged your head forward, turning a nod into a neck placed right between his fluttering fingers.

And he gripped.

He gripped and pushed his lips against yours, fully tasting you, fully gorging on your every molecule, every touch, every drop. His tongue explored your mouth and his lips took yours in fully, forcing himself down your mouth and exploring every crevice. His hand slid down and found your hip, squeezing freely now, caressing every inch and sliding down, further down the curve, laying his entire palm against your beating stomach.

Each touch so sincere and possessive he could be imprinting it into his mind.

Between hurried breaths and tears at your clothing as he took you and flung you into the other side of the wall, travelling down with his mouth, kissing each breast and revering you like a man suckling on the first drop of water after dying of thirst, you could hear him gasp.

“My absolute…beauty of a woman.”

And you moved into him, parting your legs and he took the invitation with gusto – hand sliding up your thigh, circling the outside than forcing itself between your legs, once more sliding them apart with his own. Firmly placing his foot between yours and not giving you an inch to glide back into yourself.

And oh, you feel his excitement. You feel his reverence. It’s positively pushing into you. You blush into the hurried gasps and level yourself against the wall, but he catches you and pushes you down again. His body pinning you right against it, nowhere to even think to move, only his face and eyes to run to. Only his lips ready to devour you whole.

“Tell me,” he whispers and kisses the spiral of your ear as the hot breath makes your head spin, “tell me little flower…do you feel how much I love you?”

His hips push into your body, firmly guiding themselves to your navel and lower, lower still…you look away and moan softly, twitching in his grip, shivering for him but still…

“Do you feel how fucking beautiful you are, how I cannot even think to stop if I wanted to? I’m yours, entirely yours, and I don’t regret a single second. I would play a losing hand just to be in this moment a second longer.”

As he lays a single kiss between your breasts, leaving your form only to give each the care he cannot contain, you melt.

“You silly, gorgeous girl…I would lay down a royal flush just to taste you one last time.”

To underline his words, he finds each breast and kisses it between his gripping fingers. Circling you with his tongue and tenderly biting down just to hear you gasp. As he sees your lips quiver, he hungrily travels up your neck, biting and kissing every inch, until your moans and whimpers drive him even madder and force him to claim your mouth. Inching away just a moment to mumble before sinking into you again.

“Oh, my Y/N, if you knew how perfect you are to me…” he kisses you hungrily as if he cannot stand to even finish the sentence, “you would force every mirror to crack in reverence for its inability to show such beauty.”

Again his tongue is invading your mouth and you reply in tune, exploring his warmth, his lips, biting down just to feel him tense up. Just to drive him madder. As he pulls away and gazes at you, eyes flicking from yours to your mouth, your chest, your shoulders, his eyes momentarily soften.

“Every inch of you is my own blessing, Y/N. My winning card. My luck personified."

If he didn't look like he was about to eat you alive and make you beg for more, you'd almost cry at the unfitting monologue. You momentarily relax in his arms, letting the last of your guard down. Oh, that sweet cyanide voice.

"You silly, silly little girl, all mine, quivering like a little bird in the rain just for me – it’s taking everything I have not to take you right now.”

A flash of darkness you’ve known to both fear and yearn for glides across his charcoal eyes and betrays the warmth in his smile and the softness of his words.

“Then do it,” you whisper, pushing yourself against him, hips first, laying your hands on his cheeks and kissing him fully. His body replies instantly and you cannot tell which part belongs to who, the way he’s both in motion and so close to you. Pressing into you with all the love he just spoke of. Even his words come out low, fast, as if he cannot afford to be away from you that long.

“Oh, but I laid down the game, flower, I told you I’d make you feel exactly what I see each time I look at you. And I don’t skirt my games.”

He gripped your chin between his index finger and thumb and kissed you deeply once more before resting both hands against your shoulders, brushing against your collarbones like he was unveiling a painting.

He took his time to slide down to kiss your neck, your sternum, each breast, and lower, lower still, dragging the remnants of clothing out of the way. As he kissed your stomach and held your hips, he laid his cheek upon you and simply rested, revelling in the closeness. Revelling in his closeness to you.

“So utterly perfect. In every way.”

His hot whispers kissed your navel, fingers softly travelling down the curve of your hips. He then let the other hand repeat the motion as the tingles positively ate you alive and travelled around the back of your neck all the way down your spine. He began to pull your panties down, slowly, each side taking its time before kissing you even lower.

And even lower.

Lower still.

One last look up at you told you exactly how much he intends to change your mind. And as his hands gently pushed your thighs apart, he would very much imprint each and every syllable of his words into you until you couldn't moan anything else.

[saltcxrcle]

girls i've never tried ── . ✶ jo harvelle

summary: the two of you were just best friends, right? but then why did jo want to kiss you every time she saw you?

pairings: bi! jo harvelle x bi! reader, jo harvelle x fem!reader, mentioned prev dean x reader, slight implied deanjoノ wc: 4.4k warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', best friends to lovers, jealousy, making out, smut, lots of praise, oral (both receiving), fingering, slightly dom!reader and sub!jo, pet names (baby, honey, pretty girl, good girl, baby girl)<- mostly used by reader, title is a lyric from naked in manhattan by chappell roan which the fic is loosely based on, kinda edited; all mistakes my own a/n: its a crime that there isn't more gay fics for jo so here i am doing my due diligence and providing you guys some jo smut for all of my bi girlies (gn) and lesbians that love jo lol also idk how not yap in my fics lmao but enjoy! jo harvelle masterlist

JO WANTED TO KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE BEING WITH A GIRL. 

More specifically, she wanted to know what it would be like to be with her best friend, you. It was a thought that always crossed her mind, even when she was younger, and the two of you were messing around in her room, giggling at something you guys were reading in a magazine. 

You were her best friend ever since her father died, and your parents had shown up at the Roadhouse to offer their condolences to Ellen when they heard the news. You were a bit older than her but shot her a kind smile that made her stomach flip when you told her that you liked her Sleeping Beauty shirt. 

You practically grew up with Jo and Ellen, and your parents would leave you with her as they went on hunts, so the two of you stuck by each other like glue. Ellen called the pair of you “two peas in a pod.” 

Jo loved how quick-witted you were and how willing you were to teach her about hunting (even if her mom hated that your parents started taking you on hunts when you were just sixteen). But she saw less of you as you went on hunts with your parents before you started to go on your hunts after they had retired. 

You would stop by the Roadhouse occasionally when you could or when you were passing by, never failing to fill Jo in on the hunts you went on or which monsters you had killed in the time that you hadn’t seen her or Ellen. 

She remembers the time right before you stopped coming by as often, telling her how you lost your virginity to this guy named Dean, who had these bright green eyes and plush lips that felt so soft against yours. You mentioned that he was another hunter, and Jo had to bury the little green monster that she felt clawing at her chest as you detailed the experience. 

Jo didn’t know why she was jealous that guy got to be your first, but she chalked it up to not having been able to lose her virginity yet since everyone else around her was, including her best friend. 

But her jealousy almost always took center stage when you came around the Roadhouse and slept over, telling her about the men and women that you would hook up with on the road. Jo would have a fake smile plastered on her face because, apparently, she was a masochist when it came to you and asked you if you had met someone while on a hunt. 

It was only when she saw you flirting with a girl at the bar when you were helping Ellen and Jo out for the night—pouring and serving drinks to the patrons in the Roadhouse. 

God, I wish I was her. Jo thought as she saw you send the girl you were flirting with a sultry smile before the realization hit her like a bolt of lighting, 

Jo knew that she liked men. She just didn’t realize that she also liked women until she saw you wrap your arm around the girl’s waist, sending Jo a wink before the two of you sauntered out of the place once it was closing time. 

Now, it had been a couple of months since she had seen you, and the Winchesters were like a tornado, storming into the Roadhouse and effectively taking you off of her mind. Jo thought she was getting somewhere with Dean even though something about him seemed familiar to her, but she ignored it as she talked to him and refilled his whiskey. 

The door opened to the Roadhouse, and Jo didn’t look up from wiping down the bar, but Dean did, a smile appearing on his face as he saw you walk through the entrance. 

“Well, I’ll be damned, Winchester, didn’t think you knew this place.” You smirked at the sight of the Winchester brothers as you walked over to the bar. 

Jo’s eyes snapped up from what she was doing, her gaze trained on you as you gave Sam a quick side hug as a greeting. 

Dean grabbed your waist and tucked you into his side.  “It’s a small world for us hunters isn’t it?.” Dean joked as he squeezed your arm. “The only reason we come back is because the service is great here.” Dean winked at Jo. 

Jo’s eyes were lasered in on Dean’s arm around you. The familiarity of the gesture wasn’t lost on her. 

You chuckled at Dean’s words.“ You aren’t wrong there Dean.” 

You turned to face your best friend. “Hi Joey!” You greeted Jo with a bright smile. 

“You know the Winchesters?” Jo asked instead of saying hi back to you. 

You nodded, noting the bluntness of her tone, but you would talk to her later. “Yep, ran into Dean a long time ago, but ran into these two on that hunt with the revenant I told you about a while back.” 

Something clicked in Jo’s brain. This was the Dean that had taken your virginity all those years ago. The same Dean she thought she was interested in. Fuck. Of course, out of all people, it had to be him. God must hate me. She thought as she swallowed hard. 

“Ah, I remember now.” She sent you a tight smile. “Did you want your usual?” 

You looked down at your watch. “Not all that into day drinking, I’ll take a root beer though.” 

Jo nodded and went to the mini fridge below the bar to grab the root beer that you only drank when you weren’t feeling up to alcohol. She ignored the rush of relief that went through her when you finally pulled away from Dean’s side as you sat on the barstool in between Sam and Dean. Jo also ignored how her heart rate picked up when your fingers brushed against hers as she handed you your drink. 

The four of you fell into a conversation, but Jo barely participated. Witnessing the rapport between you and the Winchesters made her skin crawl as comfortable exchanges of touches between you and Dean made her burn with jealousy. Jealous of who? Jo could barely tell anymore. 

Sam noticed how quiet Jo was and how she was staring intently at you and Dean. He didn’t know what her problem was today. Still, regardless of her sudden silence, he tried to involve her in the conversation as best he could. Still, she gave short answers, which made you raise an eyebrow at her. 

But before you could question her attitude, customers started to file in, and the evening rush began for the Roadhouse. You decided to help out, hopping behind the bar and making drinks for the boys and other patrons. You had tried to talk to Jo in between serving and making drinks, but she managed to avoid you by going around, taking orders, and going to the kitchen. 

You huffed but let it go, figuring that something else earlier in the day had set her off. Sam and Dean left right before closing, promising you that they would text you if they needed help on their next hunt. Soon after they left, you made the last call before the Roadhouse closed. 

Once everything was cleaned up, Jo was nowhere to be seen, and you sighed. That girl was moody, and you were going to find out why. 

You quickly made your way to Jo’s room and found her sitting at her vanity, already dressed for bed and beginning to pull her hair up. 

“So, are you going to tell me what crawled up your ass and died?” You asked Jo as you leaned against her door frame. 

You heard her scoff. “It’s nothing.” 

“It doesn’t sound like “nothing”.” You kicked off of her door frame, toeing your boots off before walking further into her room and sitting on her bed. “Come on Jo, talk to me! You barely spoke to me today.” 

Jo said your name tiredly. “It’s just been a long day.” 

“Then it’s the perfect time to talk about it.” 

“I’d rather not right now.” Jo’s words came out clipped as she stood up from her vanity, aiming to go to the other side of her room to pull out socks from her dresser. 

But before she could, you grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. You stood up from the bed and tried to meet her eyes. 

“Jo, please, talk to me.” You pleaded softly. You could tell something was bothering her, and you just wanted to know what it was. “Is it because I didn’t check for a while?”

She shook her head, looking away from you. Jo debated on what to tell you. “Why didn’t you tell me that Dean Winchester was the guy that took your virginity?” 

“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other until today. Besides, why does that matter? That happened so long ago.” 

Jo couldn’t look at you, biting her bottom lip. She didn’t want to admit to anything she wasn’t ready to face head-on. She ripped her wrist from your grip. 

“I told you it’s nothing. Can you just leave it?” Jo went back on her path towards her dresser, but you blocked her from even taking a step. 

“No, because I’m trying to talk to my best friend but she won’t even give me the time of day right now.” 

“And that’s my problem!” Jo’s outburst shocked you, your stomach dropping to your ass. 

A tense silence settled between you and her. 

“What do you mean?” You whispered. 

Jo sighed. “You’ve always been my best friend. But seeing you with Dean today, set me off.” 

“I-i do you like Dean? Is that why you’ve been acting short with me?” You swallowed thickly. 

You’ve always liked Jo ever since you realized that you like both girls and boys but kept that hidden from her—never once getting the vibe that she swung both ways. You liked Dean, but he was like your best friend, and you both had agreed that the first time was fun, but that time would be the only time the two of you would hook up. 

“No. I don’t think I do. All I know is that I was jealous that Dean got to have you and I-” Jo shut her mouth before she admitted her feelings for you. But the damage was already done. 

“And you what?” Your heart started to pound in your chest. “You cannot leave me hanging here Jo.” 

Jo bit her bottom lip, your gaze straying to her lips before you met her brown eyes once more. 

“I wished that I could have you in the same way Dean did.” Jo’s words were quiet, but they sounded deafening to your ears. 

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. “You could, you know?” 

“What?” Jo’s head was spinning at your words but also at the sight of the sly smile on your face. Her breath hitched as you stepped closer to her, your warm hands landing on her waist. 

“I’ve liked you for a long time Jo. If you wanted to sleep with me, you could have just asked, you know?” 

Jo’s heart felt like it could escape from out of her chest cavity. “I like you too. I wasn’t sure if it was in a friendly way or not.” 

You smiled at her as you leaned closer to Jo. “Well I’m glad it isn’t. Can I kiss you pretty girl?” Your breath was fanning over her lips, rubbing your nose against her as you saw her pretty brown eyes flutter. 

“Yes.” Her voice was breathy and filled with want. 

You wasted no time pressing your lips against Jo’s. Her lips were so soft and pliant as they moved against yours. You couldn’t help but push your lips against hers harder, pouring all of the years of secret yearning into it. 

Jo moaned against your lips, wrapping her arms around your neck as you pushed her backward until her knees hit the edge of her bed. Jo fell backward, breaking the kiss the two of you were sharing. She shuddered at the sight of your dark eyes, filled with desire, as you drank in the sight of her slightly swollen lips. 

Jo was dressed in some pajama shorts with a tight, long-sleeve shirt, and you could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples showing through the thin fabric. You internally groaned at the sight, but you crawled on top of the bed, making her crawl up it until her head hit her pillows. 

You hovered over her, cupping Jo’s face with one of your hands as you took in how the warm lighting from her lamp highlighted her features. “You’re so pretty.” You breathed out. 

Jo blushed at your praise, making you grin at the sight of her reddening cheeks. You leaned down and kissed her again—wanting to feel her soft lips against yours once more. Her kisses were addictive, and you were so sure that the taste of her would have you hooked on her indefinitely. 

You took the lead, swiping your tongue at the seam of Jo’s lips and groaning softly when you felt her tongue shyly dance with yours. Shit, she was so sweet, and you were going to have fun with her. 

Your free hand started to roam, cupping her breast through her shirt, squeezing it slightly. She let out the cutest squeak against your mouth, making you chuckle. 

“Is this okay?” You asked when you pulled away from her now swollen lips. 

“Yeah.” Jo answered with a small pant to her words. 

You ducked your head down, planting small kisses on her jaw before trailing down and nipping at the soft skin of her neck. Jo’s hands grabbed your biceps, squeezing as she let out the softest moan like she was afraid to be loud. The sound sent a wave of arousal through you and made you nip harder at her neck. 

“Don’t be afraid to be loud. Wanna hear you, honey.” You murmured into her skin, and you made your way to her collarbone, moving your hand from her breast and pulling the collar of her already low-cut shirt to suck at her chest. 

Jo continued to let out breathy moans, but they were louder this time around, and it was like music to your ears. The hand that was on her cheek moved to play with the hem of her shorts, but she grabbed your wrist. 

You looked at Jo, pulling away from her chest to look at her, her eyes wide and filled with nerves. 

“I-I’ve never been with a girl before.” 

Something inside of you purred at her words. This was a little archaic, but you were glad that you were going to be the first girl that she’d have sex with. 

“S’fine. Just relax, I’ll take care of you pretty girl.” You promised. 

Jo swallowed thickly before nodding. You kissed her softly, your hands tugging at the hem of her shirt. She got the memo and raised her arms up as you took off her shirt, exposing her bare chest to you. 

She resisted the urge to hide from your reverent stare. “God, you’re gorgeous Jo. So, so pretty.” You couldn’t help but praise her—pressing soft kisses down her chest and stomach before your lips hit the hem of her shorts. 

“Can I take these off?” Your fingers were hooked on the waistband of her shorts. 

She nodded again. But you shook your head. 

“I need words baby.” 

“Yes, you can take them off.” Jo’s words were rushed, clearly eager—any previous shyness dissipated as arousal flooded her veins. 

“Good girl.” You said before pulling her shorts, along with her underwear, down her legs, exposing her cunt to the cool air of the room. 

“Fuck.” You cursed at the sight of Jo’s bare center. There was a small patch of dark blonde hair at her pubic bone, and it was the most amazing sight you’ve ever seen. 

You settled between her open legs, your gaze on Jo’s cunt. Jo saw the hunger in your eyes, and she felt like you could devour her whole. She shivered in anticipation as your hands gripped her thighs. 

“Always knew you were going to have a pretty pussy. Bet it looks as good as it tastes.” You pressed teasing kisses to Jo’s inner thighs. She almost squirmed at the feeling—her hands grabbing at her sheets, wanting to feel your mouth on her. 

You leaned in closer to her pussy—it was practically glistening in the low light as you blew cool air on it, making Jo’s cunt clench around nothing. You laughed lightly at the small squeak that Jo made. Her hips canted forward—Jo wanted, no, needed to feel your mouth devouring her. 

“Did you need something baby?” You looked up from her wet slit to meet the pleading brown gaze of Jo. God, you hadn’t done anything, and she already looked fucked out. 

Jo whined. “Please.” She whispered. 

“Please what?” You knew you were being a bit mean, teasing her like this but it was too hard not to. “I need to hear you say it baby.” 

“Please put your mouth on me.” 

You grinned against her inner thigh, planting another kiss there. “My mouth is on you baby. You gotta be more specific.” 

Jo almost growled in frustration, her hand moving from the bed to grab the back of your head and shove you closer to her leaking cunt. “Need your mouth on my pussy.” 

“Wasn’t that easy?” You said before licking a wide strip from her slit to her clit. 

Jo let out a pleasured sigh from the feeling of your tongue finally on her aching cunt. You softly licked at her, swirling your tongue around her sensitive clit before wrapping your lips around it, suckling at the bundle of nerves softly. 

Moans left her pretty mouth, her noises spurring you on to continue your mission to get her to come around your mouth. You ate her out messily, uncaring of her slick getting all over your chin and mouth. She tasted so good. A mix of tang and musk flooded your senses as you licked at her slit, your nose buried in the soft hair at the top of her mound. 

Your dominant hand left her thigh as you pulled away from her. A little whine left her mouth in the midst of her moans. Your hand made its way to run through her wet fold, slicking up your fingers. 

“That feels good honey?” You nipped at her thigh, rubbing at her clit with your slicked-covered fingertips.  

“Uh huh.” Jo nodded furiously, her hair mussing up from the action. 

You slapped at her clit lightly, making her hip twitch at the sensation. “Words.” You reminded Jo before prodding at her entrance with your middle finger. 

“Yes! Feels so good, please.” Jo didn’t know what she was pleading for. All she knew was that she wanted to come. 

You didn’t respond, letting your finger slip into her warm pussy and feeling her gummy walls contract around it. Your mouth sealed around her clit again as your finger slowly moved in her. It didn’t take long for Jo’s moans to fill the room again. You could feel your underwear sticking to your absolutely drenched cunt, but you kept your focus on Jo, wanting to wring any and all bit of pleasure out of her. 

Your middle finger was soon joined by your ring finger. “S’tight baby. Can barely move my fingers with how hard you’re clenching around them.” 

Your words filled Jo’s lower belly with heat as her hips moved in tandem with your fingers, meeting your slow thrusts. 

Jo could feel the familiar burn building through her body when she thought of this very moment with her own fingers buried in her pussy alone in her room. 

“You’re close aren’t you? Can feel you clench around my fingers, you gonna come for me?” Your fingers found the spongy spot that she could never find herself and made a come hither motion, brushing against the spot each time your fingers moved in and out of her. 

Jo’s moans became higher and more frequent, and she was so close to cumming. But she was still missing something, and you could tell. You sealed your lips against her swollen clit and sucked hard. Jo let out a moan that almost sounded like a wail as she clenched around your fingers, gushing all over them and your face as heat filled her body and stars danced behind her eyes. 

You worked her through her orgasm, removing your fingers when her walls stopped clenching around them, and your tongue gently moved through her sensitive folds. You pressed one last kiss to her clit before trailing your lips up her soft skin, hovering over her and petting at her hair. 

“There she is.” You said before dipping down and kissing her tenderly. Jo thought it would be weird to taste herself on her lips, but if anything, it spurred her on. She pressed her lips hard against yours as her hands pawed at your shirt, wanting it off. You laughed at her eagerness and broke the kiss to help her take it off. 

Soon enough, you found yourself naked and in Jo’s position—on your back as she was hovering over you and squeezing at your breasts as she kissed you. You moaned in her mouth as she pinched at your nipples before she tore her mouth away from you and moved down your neck and chest. 

Jo made her way down your body, the lust-fueled confidence slowly ebbing away when she was in between your legs and staring at your bare center. There was a hunger in her brown gaze, but it was overshadowed by nerves and hesitancy. 

“Hey.” You called at her softly, sitting up and cupping her face. “Do whatever feels right.” 

“But what if-” 

“You’ll do fine, baby.” You cut her off. “I’ll guide you if you need it okay?” Your thumb swiped at her cheek before kissing her softly as reassurance. 

Jo melted into the kiss before you broke it. You sent her a tender smile before laying back and moving your hands to her hair, pushing the blonde strands out of her face. 

Jo took a deep breath before settling in between your legs. She decided to mirror what you did to her, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before reaching your clit and kissing it. A quiet moan left your lips, spurring Jo on. 

She pressed a more demanding kiss to your clit before her tongue darted out and licked at it. Another moan left your lips, and Jo decided to go for it, using her tongue to swipe through your slit and taste you fully. 

“Ah, doing so well Jo.” You praised as she sucked at your clit, her doe-like eyes looking up at you sent another bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy. 

You could tell that she was inexperienced with her tongue, but she made up for it in eagerness. Your hands were wound in her hair, nails scratching at her scalp—making her moan against your cunt. The vibrations felt delicious against your cunt, and you couldn’t help but grind against her face. 

“Jo baby, use your fingers like I did.” You ordered breathlessly. 

Jo complied, bringing her slender fingers to your spit–slicked entrance and slipped one of them in. 

“Another one baby, please.” You were wet enough that you didn’t need to be prepped. Jo slipped another one in you, and you sighed at the feeling of being filled by her fingers. 

“Okay, use your pretty mouth on my clit and move your fingers like this,” You directed Jo, simulating the motion you did for her. 

Jo nodded and started to put your instructions to use. She sucked and licked at your swollen clit and moved her fingers inside of you. You were letting out moans and whines, praises spilling from your lips. 

Jo keened at the praise, doubling down on your pussy. Her ministrations were enthusiastic, a little uncoordinated, but it was still bringing you closer to the edge. You would let Jo practice on you whenever she wanted. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me come.” 

Jo really wanted to make you feel good as you made her feel. She shook her head, moving her fingers faster, brushing against your g-spot. 

“Shit! Doing so well f’me baby girl, keep going. So so close.” You moaned out, pushing her face further into your cunt. Jo kept at her pace, feeling your walls clenching and twitching around her fingers. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You came hard around Jo’s fingers and mouth. Jo continued at her pace, working you through your orgasm, and you had to push Jo away from you as she continued to move her fingers inside of you and licking at your pussy, bordering overstimulation. 

“Come here.” You beckoned, sitting up and meeting Jo in the middle, pulling her into a filthy kiss. 

“Did so well baby girl, haven’t come that hard in a while.” You praised her as you pulled away and caressed her sides. 

Jo flushed at your praise and smiled at you. She kissed you again before worry flared up inside of her. 

“This isn’t a one time thing for you is it?” Jo asked as she broke the kiss. 

You pulled her down to lay beside you. You were facing her, your hand resting on the side of her neck. “No it’s not.” You reassured her. “M’not letting you go now that I have you. Is it for you?” 

Jo breathed out a sigh of relief before shaking her head. “No, never was.” 

You sent her a dazzling smile, making her heart almost skip a beat. Jo couldn’t help but smile back at you before you kissed her, but the two of you were still smiling so wide that it could barely qualify as a kiss. 

The two of you never wanted to leave the blissful bubble of her room. The rest of the night was filled with soft caresses and quiet conversation about your hunts—a warmth settled in both yours and Jo’s chest. Everything felt right. and Jo couldn’t help but think she wanted to stay like this with you forever. Little did she know you were thinking the exact same thing. 

[vettelsvee]

lewis hamilton + lawyer + enemies to lovers for city of stars au

LET'S CALL IT A CASE CLOSED | Lewis Hamilton Lawyer AU

Part of City of Stars Universe game (active until May 14th so join us!) Read until the very end to find out if you guessed right Lewis' plot 🔮 Become a beta reader of City of Stars F1 AU Universe 🏎️🏁✨

⋆ PAIRING: Lawyer!Lewis Hamilton x Lawyer Female!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: Daniel Ricciardo, famous actor, gets involved in too much trouble. Lewis Hamilton, his lawyer, needs to help him... but you're the main problem and what will be making him difficult to win the case ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it anon 💖 ⋆ WARNINGS: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, public arguments and fights. A few of undercover spoilers from my upcoming F1 AU Universe, City of Stars hehe ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2647 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: It's been a long time but I'm finally back! Honestly, I procrastinated today everything I had uni related just to write and post this, so I hope you liked it! Also, let's call it a celebration for Lewis' first ever Ferrari win (I don't mind it's a sprint race you guys). Hope you're all doing great and better than I am, as well as I hope you like this a lot (and please take part in the City of Stars game!) <3 ↳ TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

If there was one thing Lewis Hamilton was proud of, it was the lawyer he had become.  

Years of studying, effort, and above all, sacrifice, losing more than one relationship along the way for "spending too much time studying" or "never leaving the courtroom", had led him to where he was now.  

After several years working in London, the city that had shaped him as a lawyer, he decided to leave it all behind and move abroad, settling in Geneva, Switzerland. It was the city that had earned him the reputation he had fought so hard for, the one he had dreamed of, whether he admitted it or not.  

He had lost more than he ever imagined when he first decided to study law. But did he regret any of it?  

Not the slightest.  

Lewis was used to high-stakes cases, the kind that kept him up at night not just because of the endless hours of work they required, but because the sheer adrenaline coursing through him wouldn't allow sleep to take over. Cases that were more about strategy than law were his specialty, the ones he thrived on. But this one? This one was proving more difficult than he would have liked.  

Daniel Ricciardo, one of Hollywood’s most renowned actors, had turned his life into a disaster. Wild nights, substance use, and questionable company had drawn attention, but it was the public altercations with paparazzi and even a few fans that had truly damaged his reputation.  

The media had already judged and condemned him. And while the upcoming trial had been kept as private as possible, everyone knew exactly when and where the Australian actor would stand before the court, perhaps to be saved by his trusted lawyer, Mr. Hamilton, as many already speculated.  

Lewis, however, cared little for the headlines. He couldn't care less about the relentless criticism for taking on such a controversial, high-profile case with little chance of walking away unscathed.  

What truly bothered him was the woman sitting across from him in the courtroom: Y/N Y/L/N.  

You were brilliant, ruthless, and willing to win at any cost, no matter what it took. While Hamilton had won most of his trials, the few he had lost had been against you. Your rivalry was legendary; even judges and courtroom regulars were familiar with your dynamic: pure, unfiltered hatred, and nothing more.  

"You look like you've been up all night, Hamilton," you remarked, your voice smooth yet laced with that infuriatingly smug tone. "I hope you’re not planning on making this easy for me, like you always do. It would be such a shame to see you fall so easily." 

"You’re not getting away with anything, and you know it, Y/L/N."

You smirked in satisfaction, leaning back into your seat before turning your attention back to your client’s defense, one of the paparazzi, and the one who had suffered the worst of it. Yet, despite your focus, you couldn't help but steal a few glances at Lewis whenever he was deep in the case files. Unfortunately for you, one of those times, he caught you in the act.  

To your surprise, though, he said nothing. Not until the trial began.  

Two hours later, the courtroom erupted into a theatrical spectacle, as expected from a case of such media frenzy. Stepping outside for air had barely been an option. The press swarmed the courthouse, desperate to capture any moment that could make them enough money to never work again. Even Ricciardo’s arrival had been a disaster; he had to sneak in, and once inside, you had almost been ambushed yourself, accompanied by a chorus of shouts and insults from those who had already condemned him.  

The battlefield had been set long before the trial had even begun, and despite facing worse cases in the past, neither you nor Lewis felt particularly confident.  

When Lewis started presenting flimsy arguments about Ricciardo’s alleged drug use—insisting he hadn't consumed any at the party, nor had he been excessively drunk—and claiming the attacks on the press were nothing more than social media manipulation, it was your turn to present your case.  

You always maintained a sense of ease, carrying the unwavering confidence that you had already won before even setting foot in the courtroom. Your ability to remain composed in moments like these was both infuriating and, to some, downright inspiring. The key wasn’t just to win: it was to make your opponent doubt themselves.  

Today, however, things felt different.  

Your legs trembled as you stood, and as you began to speak, the nervous fidgeting with your hands became painfully obvious. Lewis noticed, of course he did. And, as expected, he used it to his advantage, keeping his gaze locked on you, unsettling you even more.  

"Your Honor," you began, taking a quick breath before continuing, "this case is not what the media or social networks want the public to see. I believe in facts, and there is overwhelming evidence that cannot be ignored. Mr. Ricciardo has not only been involved in incidents related to excessive drug and alcohol use, but also in acts of physical violence against individuals who were simply doing their jobs."

Lewis clenched his jaw. He held his tongue at first, but he couldn't stop himself. He wasn’t going to lose another case, not to you. He stood abruptly, his eyes locking onto yours.  

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started, his voice sharp, almost venomous, "we are not here to entertain or speculate, as Ms. Y/L/N seems to believe. We are here to present facts. The so-called evidence the opposing side has presented is, at best, weak. And if anything, this trial has only proven how the media has painted Mr. Ricciardo as a criminal before the truth has even been brought to light."

The room fell into an eerie silence as you exchanged words, your arguments clashing like poisoned daggers, not just in an effort to win the case, but to defeat each other.  

It had become personal. Too personal. And the inconclusive trial verdict was proof of that.  

In the days that followed, your rivalry only escalated, if that was even possible. Every glance exchanged in the courtroom grew sharper, every objection felt like a personal challenge. Neither of you backed down. The tension between you two had become so unbearable that you were even threatened with case reassignment, to be replaced by lawyers who were, in the court’s words, "more professional than the both of you."

Tired and, let’s be honest, afraid that the legal career you had worked so hard to build was slipping away, you decided to call Lewis at the very least, to try and put things in order.

When he saw your name light up on his phone screen, he had no desire to answer. But a small, nagging fear that it might be something important, something crucial to tipping the scales in his favor and winning the case, made him take a deep breath before picking up.

"Y/L/N."

"I need to talk to you." Your voice was calm. Too calm, in fact. It was a stark contrast to the one he was used to, and that alone unsettled him. "About the case, of course."

"What about the case?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "Are we finally going to agree on something?"

You had no idea how to respond to that. The silence that followed was uncomfortable, enough to put the Brit on edge.

"I'm not sure anymore, to be honest." You exhaled slowly, struggling to find the right words. "The more I look at this case, the more I wonder if we’re just playing a game. Is this really about justice, or just about how much attention it gets? About what winning means for either of us?"

Lewis remained silent for a moment. He hadn’t expected your call in the first place, but what he expected even less was hearing that. Hearing you doubt yourself.

"I don’t play games, Y/L/N," he finally said, his voice firm, authoritative. "I don’t lose. Not in court, not in anything."

"I never said you were playing." You corrected yourself, your tone measured. "I just think… maybe you should ask yourself if this case really matters to you. It’s not about Daniel anymore, is it? It’s about proving something. To yourself. To me."

The truth in your words hit harder than he’d like to admit.

Because deep down, you were right. Taking this case had never been just about defending Daniel. At least, not entirely. If there hadn’t been a fortune involved, would he even be here?

No.

Now, it was personal. A way to be close to you. A way to prove himself to you.

A desperate attempt to make you see him as something more than just a rival. To make you realize he was someone worth fighting for, not just against.

"Why the hell do you care?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every time we've faced each other, you’ve won. So why the hell does sentimentality matter to you now?"

A long, heavy pause stretched between you.

For a second, he thought you had hung up. But then, your voice came through soft, trembling.

"I don’t know." You hesitated, as if saying it out loud made it all the more real. "Maybe I’m just tired of being what everyone expects me to be. I’m tired of being the villain."

Of being your villain.

Of you seeing me as nothing more than an opponent, when all I’ve ever done is try to be the best at my job.

But you couldn’t say that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be that vulnerable with him.

Lewis didn’t say anything else either. Instead, he ended the call. And in that silence, he realized something… Something neither of you were ready to admit.

At least, not yet.

The next day, the trial reached its boiling point. The media frenzy had escalated, and the pressure was mounting from both sides. Daniel, exhausted by it all, was ready to end it, even if it meant things wouldn’t go in his favor.

By the time closing arguments began, the tension between you and Lewis was unbearable.

"Your Honor, this case has been nothing but a web of lies and excuses," you said, your voice cold, authoritative. "Mr. Ricciardo must be found guilty of every charge brought against him. And it’s time for his fans, his family, and even his legal team—" you paused, looking directly at Lewis, "to stop covering up the damage he has caused. Not just to others, but to himself. Dragging this on will only make things worse. His career is already in ruins. Let’s not pretend otherwise."

The weight of your words hung in the air.

Lewis met your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it was as if you were speaking in a language only the two of you understood.

He was about to respond, but before he could, the judge called for a recess.

As you both stepped outside, Lewis exchanged a few words with Daniel just as you did with Mark, the only photographer who had dared to press charges. But eventually, you found yourselves alone in the hallway, the weight of the case pressing down on both of you.

"I never wanted this to get personal," Lewis admitted, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, calm. It was the first time you’d ever heard him sound like that.

"But it did," you replied simply. "From the very beginning, it always has."

You studied him, searching for what he wasn’t saying because if there was one thing you knew about Lewis Hamilton, it was that his words always held truth.

But right now, with you, that wasn’t the case.

"I know." You nodded. "But that doesn’t change anything. At least, not yet."

As the trial neared its conclusion, the outcome remained uncertain. The jury deliberated for hours, longer than either of you had anticipated, before finally delivering their verdict.

Daniel Ricciardo was acquitted on all charges, provided he paid 500,000 francs in damages to the photographer.

It wasn’t the victory either of you had expected.

Outside the courthouse, Lewis stood, staring at his phone, feeling the weight of the case lift, but not the pressure in his chest.

There was still something unresolved.

You walked down the courthouse steps, stopping beside him. Your presence was as cold as ever. You didn’t speak right away, instead crossing your arms and alternating your gaze between the journalists still hovering nearby and Lewis, who was engrossed in a conversation on his phone.

A conversation with an Amelie and with a Sebastian, a name you knew all too well.

"You won. You must be happy now," you remarked calmly.

"I didn’t win," he replied in a low voice, somewhat disappointed. "At least, not fairly. You know Ricciardo has a lot of influence as an actor, and..."

You simply watched him, your gaze filled with a tenderness you had never allowed yourself before, letting him speak.

"I didn’t win either, so I guess we’ll just have to take what we can get."

For the first time, there were no grudges between you. No rivalry. At that moment, you were simply two professionals who had done their best, caught in a media storm so overwhelming that you weren’t sure how to turn the page now that the Ricciardo case had come to an end.

But if there was one thing you were both fully aware of, it was that more than needing closure, you longed for it.

"You know, I think you’re right," Lewis said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "And I think our colleagues might be right, too. You know what they say…"

"What do you mean?" You turned to face him, your expression as unreadable as his.

"That it was never just about the cases we were up against each other in," Hamilton murmured, almost embarrassed.

"It never was, and I think you know that just as well as I do."

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Maybe we always knew, and we just refused to admit it. But… what are we going to do about it?"

You lowered your gaze, considering the endless possibilities, until he pulled you from your thoughts.

"Let me take you to have dinner."

The words caught you completely off guard. For the first time, Lewis saw you hesitate—and he took it as a small victory, one he couldn’t deny he was proud of.

"Dinner… as in a date?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Your voice told him there was something more there. Something, luckily, different from rejection.

"Call it whatever you want," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, clearly nervous. "I just think it’s about time we had the conversation we keep avoiding… without trying to kill each other in the process."

"So that’s your strategy now? Take me to dinner and hope I suddenly start liking you?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

"I don’t need you to like me. I just need you to admit that you’re curious about me."

Lewis took a step closer. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning in as well. Then, despite your best efforts to resist, you smiled.

"Fine," you said, feigning indifference. "One dinner. And don’t get any ideas. This changes nothing between us, Hamilton."

"I wouldn’t dream of it, Y/L/N."

As he walked away, already pulling out his phone to book the best restaurant in town, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something you both had been searching for far longer than you had ever dared to admit.

And for the first time, neither of you minded losing to the other.

I'm sad to announce that you didn't get it right, anon, and Lewis won't be a lawyer in City of Stars Universe! But no worries: keep trying please! ✨

Also, if you like my content, and would like to support me, you can do it here <3 Thank you so much for reading until the very end! <3

[fiber-optic-alligator]

CHAPTER 3 IS HERE WOWOWOWOWOW

Here it is, chapter 3 of A New Safe Haven (This Family Needs You)! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Word Count: 4687

You can read chapter 2 here!

You spend the rest of the night hiding within the Counselor’s Office, curled up in Stella Greyber’s frayed chair, your head resting on your arm while the other is covering your head. It’s a position that has every bone in your body aching, yet you hardly find it within yourself to care. With the office’s door barricaded shut and the room completely dark, you hope nothing finds you, and simply lie by your lonesome with grief and guilt alike swirling through you. Sleep is fitful; you see nothing but teeth and claws when you close your eyes, and Kevin’s words echo like whispers from the walls. You feel helpless, alone, and afraid. You just want to remain here forever, never to see the light of day again.

  No one mourns traitors.

  I will never love you.

  You squeeze your eyes so tight you see black spots behind your lids and clench your hands around your biceps to the point of pain. The physical discomfort distracts you from the inner turmoil.

  “You know, they’re gonna get rid of you eventually.”

  You topple out of the chair, falling onto your back with a low yelp. The voice snickers. “Geez, you startle easily, dont’cha?”

  Your head flies up, searching the dark for the unknown presence. You can see no one. “Who are you?” you yell. “Where are you?” You instinctively reach to prepare your flare hand for fire, but remember you don’t have your grabpack on you; you lost it in your chase with Jack. “Show yourself!”

  “Up here, dimwit.” There’s a shuffle from above; you look up and see a twin pair of glowing white eyes staring at you from behind a vent cover. “You see me?”

  “What…what do you want from me?” you ask. “How did you know I was in here?”

  A scoff. “I could practically smell your tears from the vents. Imagine me, minding my own business while searchin’ for some food, when allofasudden I hear you blubberin’ and sobbin.’ Are you really crying over what that dumb red kid said to you?”

  “You…you were eavesdropping on us?” you exclaim.

  “Listen, nothing ever happens down here. I’m not gonna pass up on some drama! Let me live my life, okay?” The voice pauses, as if its owner is observing you. “It’s my first time seeing you up close. You, the big bad employee who took out CatNap. I gotta say, I’m…not really impressed.”

  You wipe your nose and lean against Stella’s desk. “Gee. Thanks.”

  “I’m just telling the truth. You’re kinda pathetic. Are you gonna keep sticking with those kids?”

  “…They need me.”

  “No they don’t! Look at them! They’re giant monsters! You think they care about you? Sooner or later, they’re gonna get tired of you and rip ya to-”

  “Stop.” You punch a fist against the floor. The pain is a welcome sensation. You’ll take it over the idea of Matthew, Kevin, and Jack killing you. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Alright, alright. But just listen to what I gotta say, okay? You wanna get out of this factory? So do we. You won’t get far with those boys weighing you down. It’s either they’re gonna get you more lost, or they’re gonna eat ya. So, why not come join me and my crew? If you can help us escape to the outside…I’ll ensure your safety among our ranks.”

  “Who the hell even are you?” you ask, glaring at the vent. “Do you work for the Prototype?”

  “The Prototype? Ha!” The voice barks a rough laugh. “Of course not! The Prototype is who’s keepin’ us here. Nah, we’re our own leaders. We work for ourselves and ourselves only.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel the least bit better.”

  “Didn’t expect it to. Ah, well, looks like I gotta get going. But just consider my offer, yeah? If you wanna accept it, I’ll be around.” With that, the eyes disappear. You hear a skittering going down the vent, and then the stranger is gone.

  You don’t know what to think. It’s expected for you to be watched by others. You always have eyes on you: hungry eyes, angry eyes, sad eyes. Yet, you’ve never had a monster ask for you to join them, except for Poppy. Just who was that? You wrack your brain for any possible suspects, but none come to mind.

  You can’t abandon the boys even if a part of you feels that removing yourself from their lives is the best outcome for them. Kevin aside, Matthew and Jack wouldn’t know what to do without you. You can’t hurt them like that. You refuse to hurt them more than you already have.

  You look around Stella’s office. You remember her; you remember what she did for you, what she did for your career at Playtime Co. The memories of your past arise like flowers in spring, long locked away due to the survivor’s guilt plaguing you for years. This place has haunted you long before you received that fateful letter in the mail. You wish you never opened it. God, why couldn’t they just let you stay away?

  The waterworks come quickly. You feel the familiar tightening behind your eyes, tears working their way down the corners and down your cheeks. “Damnit,” you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm against your head. You bang it a few times, the throb in your skull only adding to the breakdown. “I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

  Home isn’t here. You fear you will never see it again.

  When you emerge from the Counselor’s Office, you can hear familiar voices booming through PlayCare. Kevin and Matthew are by the fountain, with the red giant throwing his hands into the air while he yells. “I don’t know what you think I did! I don’t know where they went! What, you think I killed them or something?”

  Matthew, ever the saint, is being extremely patient. “I never said that. All I’m asking is where you think they are. You were the last one to see them, you said it yourself. So just point in the direction you saw them go.”

  “I don’t know! I saw them at the duck pond last night, then they disappeared! I’m not going to go sniffing around for them like a damn dog!”

  “Kevin-”

  “Stop accusing me!”

  “I’m not accusing you, I just-”

  “Guys! I found them!” You hear Jack’s voice from above. Craning your neck, you see him perching atop the building’s roof, claws digging into the tiles. “Mommy! There you are!”

  “Hi Ja-” You cut yourself off when he stretches his arm and easily reaches you, picking you up and retracting the appendage to normal length. “Woah, okay, okay, dough arms act like dough. Um, m-maybe give me a little warning when you’re about to do that next time?”

  “S-Sorry!” Jack nuzzles you apologetically. “I was just so worried! We’ve been looking for you all over! Why were you hiding in the Counselor’s Office?” His tongue flicks across your cheek. “Have…have you been crying? I taste tears!”

  Shit. You shake your head, giving him a forced smile. “I’m okay, I promise. I just…I had another nightmare, and I needed some time to be alone.”

  “But Mommy,” Jack says, mournful. “You shouldn’t have to feel like you need to hide yourself away when you’re sad. Next time, you come to me! I’ll tuck you away and keep you warm and safe! No nightmares while I’m hugging you!” He pats his stomach approvingly.

  God, he is so cute. You absolutely adore this kid. Your smile turns genuine, and you give his thumb a squeeze. “Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate that.” I think we’ll skip the eating part, though.

  Jack climbs down and returns to his brothers, presenting you. “Look, here they are! They’re okay!”

  “Thank goodness.” Matthew looks relieved. “Mom, what were you thinking, running off like that? I panicked when I woke up and found you gone!” He sounds like he’s the parent, and you’re the child. You have a feeling he’s given this talk to countless other children in days gone. “What happened?”

  You notice Kevin has himself slightly turned away, with his gaze straying elsewhere. For a moment, you hesitate, wondering if you should expose his threats from last night. It would be best to tell Matthew, so it won’t happen again. You know the eldest won’t stand for any sort of violence towards you, especially from one of his brothers. Yet, you seem to know that if you do, your chances of earning Kevin’s trust will drop drastically. He did hurt you…but if you tattle, it will only push him away.

  “I had a nightmare,” you say. “When I woke up, I panicked, so…so I ran away and hid for a while. I-I’m sorry.”

  Matthew sighs, running a hand through his hair. His gentle indignation melts into acceptance. “It’s okay. We aren’t mad. But please, next time you’re feeling scared or vulnerable…tell us. We can help you. You aren’t alone anymore. You have people to support you. So no more handling your nightmare on your own, alright?”

  He’s asking for a lot, and he knows it. Your nightmares are brought about through creatures like him. Just being around the boys is enough to spark the anxiety within you. Looking for respite in the arms of what you fear won’t be easy. But he’s offering you a chance. Little steps lead to big ones, and big steps lead to healing. If you can learn to trust these giants, maybe the pieces of yourself that crumbled in Playtime Co. can be rebuilt again.

  “Okay,” you say quietly. “Okay. No more running. From now on, I’ll stay with you.”

  Matthew smiles and nods. “Thank you. Don’t worry. We’re going to get through this. All four of us, together…as a family.”

  “Matthew,” Kevin says. He gruffly points towards Home Sweet Home. “Look.”

  You, Matthew, and Jack turn towards the orphanage. At first, you can’t see what Kevin is noticing. Then, there’s a glint of reflection against a pair of beady eyes. Then another. And another. Soon, at least fifty gazes are staring at you, little chitters and growls echoing across PlayCare. Little bodies scurry like ants, waiting on the precipice of the darkness, only holding back due to the presence of the fake moonlight.

  A shiver goes down your spine.

  PlayCare’s bout of peacefulness has ended. The scavengers have arrived to pick off what CatNap left behind.

  “Kevin, go get the peach boxes,” Matthew orders. He doesn’t look away from the feral toys. “Jack, don’t let Mom go. I guess our stay here is being cut short.”

  It’s only when Jack presses you to his chest and completely covers you with his hands that you realize you forgot to tell them about the mysterious voice from the vent. At this point, you don’t even know if you should. Perhaps it’s best for all of you that you forget.

  Jack gives you space to breathe only when the four of you are at a safe distance from PlayCare, now traversing through the outskirts of No Man’s Land. Unlike Matthew, who lets you ride on your shoulder, he plops you right atop his head and manipulates his hair to keep your legs secure. It's terrifying at first, to be so high up. Yet Jack is careful, and his cheery attitude calms you down. “Look, Mommy, isn’t this fun? It’s like you're a dragon rider, and I’m your dragon! Rooooaaar!” He sprouts sharp claws and even molds tiny wings from his back, surging forward to run ahead while continuing his game.

  “Jack, slow down! T-Too fast!” you beg, hanging onto his hair for dear life.

  “It’s okay! I won’t let you fall!” Tendrils of dough wrap around your waist for added measure. “Fly with me, my rider! We’re going to defeat the evil wizard!”

  “Jack, be careful!” Matthew calls. “Don’t run too far ahead!”

  “Or do,” Kevin grumbles. “We won’t miss your loud noise.”

  “ROAR! The great dragon Jack does NOT LIKE KEVIN’S ATTITUDE!” Jack bares his teeth and lets out a playful hiss. “Imma EAT ya!”

  “Oh, yeah?” Kevin grins. “Not before I eat you first. Dragons eat dragons.” With that, he launches himself forward. Jack squeals with joy and expertly avoids the faux attack, flapping his wings while he runs, giggling. “Oh no! The dragon Kevin wants to devour us, rider Mommy! We gotta get out of here!”

  “JAAAAAAACK!” you scream, feeling very much like you are on a real dragon right now.

  Jack jumps and claws his way up a supporting beam, perching at the top like a cat and sticking his tongue out. While Matthew watches from afar with a clearly panicked expression, you lean forward a little and observe how Kevin slowly follows after your mount. “Oh, you think climbing is going to save you? I’m the king of climbing. Don’t try to challenge me!”

  “Mommy, hold on tight!” You feel Jack tense, dough rippling. “We’re going to fly!” With that, he leaps, little wings outstretched. You absolutely lose it and howl at the very top of your lungs while the two of you dive straight for Kevin. It’s a stomach-dropping moment of pure terror as you instinctively press yourself against Jack’s head and wait for contact to be made between the two boys.

  Jack tackles Kevin and sends him rolling. Both boys laugh, growling and snarling like playful wolf pups, while you feel very queasy from the amount of flips your body is being put through.

  Suddenly, Jack’s grip on you begins to loosen. You startle, scrabbling for contact, panic rising as your legs slowly begin to slip free. “Jack! Jack, wait! I-I’m going to fall-!”

  He doesn’t hear you. You can’t hold on; your grip isn’t strong enough, and in what feels like painful slow motion, you slip and go careening off of his head. “Nononono! JACK!”

  You hit the floor and slide backwards, pitching straight through a crack in the grounding, plummeting through air like a stone, wind whistling past your ears while you flail for some impossible way to break your fall. Agony screams through your battered body when you slam into the ground.

  It’s a good moment before you move. Your mind catches up with what just happened, and you groan in pain.. When you slowly push yourself into a kneeling position, you look up and see that the crack you fell through brought you a bit from where you originally were. You think you can hear Jack screaming your name, but you aren’t totally sure if it’s real or due to a possible concussion.

  “Urgh…” You stand, wobbling. Flinging an arm out to steady yourself, your fingers connect with jagged indents which cause you to quickly snatch your hand away. Blinking, you stumble closer to get a better look.

  There’s a huge hole running straight through the wall. The jagged edges you touched are…bite marks.

  “Oh, fuck,” you say, stepping back. None of this is due to the factory’s erosion. Something literally gnashed its way through, and then left the area in a similar way. What creature has a strong enough bite force and teeth to chew through solid concrete?

  You don’t want to find out. Somehow, you have to get out of here. This is completely uncharted territory for you, and you aren’t even sure you’re in the same area of the factory you just fell from. Looking back up, your heart sinks. Will Jack even notice you are gone? Will him, Kevin, and Matthew be too far away by the time they do realize you are missing? Will they come back for you? Will they even care?

  A treacherous part of your mind whispers to you that no, they won’t. Perhaps they’ll even be happy you are gone. Kevin certainly will. Maybe he’ll convince Matthew and Jack that you are dead. Helplessness crawls through your ribs and slowly starts sinking its teeth into your heart. You don’t have your grabpack. You have no way to defend yourself. Fuck. Fuck. I’m screwed. I am utterly, entirely screwed.

  Something moves behind you.

  You snap to attention, all of your senses focusing on the large shape shifting towards you from the darkness. Slow, steady thumps-footsteps-get closer. There’s a noise which sounds like distorted music coming out of a broken radio. You back up until you hit a wall, unable to do anything but stare as the figure reveals itself in the barely-there light.

  Your jaw drops.

  It’s…It’s Pianosaurus. Intact. Alive.

  The bigger body regards you with a tilt of the head. Dropping to a quadrupedal stance, it speaks to you in a broken voice constantly interrupted by the clattering of piano keys. “H…H…Hello…”

  It quickly dawns on you that this is not the Pianosaurus you watched Doey kill and consume. It’s smaller, with less grime sticking to its plastic, and not a speck of blood dotting its wide face. You work your dry tongue for a response to give. “...Hi?”

  “You…fell. I-I-I saw.” It swishes its tail. “H-Hurt?”

  “Um. No, not really. I have some bangs and bruises, but I don’t think I fell super far.” You rub your neck. “Why aren’t you killing me?”

  The dinosaur reels back, a horrified tune flying across its keyboard. “K-K-Kill? No, no kill! “I…cannot! Will not! No…no killing!”

  Well. This isn’t what you expected. But you are happy for it. You allow yourself to relax, if only a little. “Well, that’s good to hear. I…I’m Y/N. Do…you have a name?” Can you remember who you used to be?

  The Pianosaurus bends its neck down in a greeting. “C-C-Cassie,” it responds. “I…I am…girl. Before…this.” It plays a mournful song while looking at its paws.

  Your gut churns. “I…I’m sorry Cassie. I don’t know what else to say other than…thank you for not hurting me.”

  “No t-t-thanks. Not needed.” Cassie settles, at ease, and looks towards the hole. “B-B-Bad kid made that h-hole. How did…you fall through?”

  “Huh? Bad kid? What do you-?”

  “Mom? Are you there? Mom?!” Orange dough suddenly gushes down above. Cassie reacts immediately, flinching into the cover of the shadows. When Matthew forms, he is noticeably shorter than usual, yet still tall enough for his head to bonk against the ceiling. He yelps, rubbing his head, then frantically searches the small area. When he sees you, he lets out a cry of relief and embraces you in a desperate hug. “Mom! Oh goodness, I’m so sorry! Jack, he was playing too rough! He didn’t mean to let you fall! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Let me make sure you are okay!” He turns you over, gently bending your arms and legs, checking your eyes and your head. “Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? How many fingers am I holding up?” He holds four digits so close to your face, you go crosseyed.

  “Matthew, Matthew, I’m fine.” You take his index finger and hold it over your heart, allowing him to feel it beat. “I’m not hurt. I’m okay. See?”

  Matthew’s bottom lip quivers. It’s the first time you’ve seen him this close to crying. “We thought we lost you. Jack didn’t mean it. He’d never hurt you, never.” He shakes his head and draws you towards his mouth. “I-I’m going to keep you inside for a little bit. Don’t be scared, it’ll just be until we reach another safe area. Please don’t fight me on this, it’s-it’s the best way to keep you protected right now.”

  “N-N-NO!” Cassie bursts forth. She stabs her claws into Matthew’s leg. “Stop! D-Don’t e-eat them!”

  Matthew hisses and looks down. His eyes narrow, and he raises his foot, easily flinging her away. Cassie crashes into a wall and slumps with a squawk.

  “Matthew, wait! Don’t hurt her, she’s harmless!” you cry with a desperate wave of your hands.

  The dough boy pauses. “She?”

  “Please…” Cassie struggles to stand. “No…no more…killing…”

  “Oh…you can talk.” Matthew bends down on one knee. “You aren’t feral. Where…where did you come from?”

  “S-S-Sanctuary…” Cassie’s head twitches. “G-Gone...Bad kids took it. Lots of b-blood. I…ran. Didn’t want to die. Found them.” She nods to you. “You…are their son?”

  “Yes, I am.” Matthew adjusts you in his hands, rubbing his thumb up and down your back. “This sanctuary, is it your safe haven? And you’re telling me it’s gone?”

  “Not gone. Taken. Bad kids.”

  “Who are the bad kids?” you ask.

  “They…not nice. Mean. Bad. Eat others. E-Eat each other.” Cassie whines. “Took my friends. Can’t save them…”

  You and Matthew exchange glances. “The Prototype?” you say.

  “Could be.” Matthew releases a breath. “We should stay clear. If he’s already taken over another safe haven, we can’t go there. It’s not safe for you.”

  “But…but what if they aren’t? What about her?” You nod to Cassie. “We can’t just leave her here.”

  Cassie curls in on herself, her tail resting atop her feet. She looks absolutely miserable, despite not having an expression to show for it. Matthew sighs again. “If we bring her with us, she might bring him with her.”

  “But if we don’t she’ll die. Look at her. She’s in no mental state to survive on her own.”

  “...Alright. Fine.” Matthew relents. He looks back at Cassie, and his gaze softens. “If their safe haven is still salvageable, maybe we’ll be able to get rid of these…bad kids, whoever they are, and save the toys that are trapped.”

  Part of you does not want to do any sort of thing. You want to escape this godforsaken factory and go home. But there are still children here, children who will continue to face terrible fates if you don’t do something about it. Plus, you won’t leave the boys. So you nod. “Alright. Let’s go.”

  Jack is a blubbering mess. The moment Matthew sets you down safely away from the hole you fell through, he’s all over you, hugging you tight, sobbing blue dough tears. “Mommy! Mommy, I’m so sorry!” he wails. “I got too excited! I could have hurt you!”

  “Jack, Jack,” you soothe. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not hurt, and I’m not upset with you. I promise.”

  “R-Really?” Jack sniffles. “You mean it? You still trust me?”

  “I’m…on track to trusting you,” you admit. His expression is a heartbreaking sight, and you are quick to continue. “But I know you don’t want to hurt me.” Not right now. “You were having fun, and…I’m happy you were playing with Kevin. I’m happy you were playing with me. Let’s try and play more often, alright? I like seeing you smiling rather than seeing you sad.”

  Jack wipes away his tears. You try not to get splattered. “Y-Yeah. I’d like to play more! Dragon and rider is super fun! And when we escape, we-we can play tag! And hide-and-seek! Would you do that with me, Mommy?”

  “Absolutely,” you say. “We’ll go to the park. You’ll love the grass, and the sun, and-and everything.” You begin to get excited just thinking about it. “We can take walks, and I can teach you how to play soccer! You could join the little league! And-”

  “Stop getting ahead of yourself,” Kevin snaps. You jump, completely unaware of his presence until now. He’s watching you, sitting down with his arms folded and his head low. “Dough can’t play soccer. Monsters aren’t allowed to go to parks.”

  Jack wilts. You feel frustration build within you. “Kevin-”

  “What, got something to say?” Kevin snaps his teeth. You flinch, and Jack quickly shields you, murmuring a soft “It’s okay, Mommy, you’re okay.” Any sort of reprimand you started preparing instantly dies.

  “Kevin.” Matthew walks over. “Now is not the time. We have some serious issues happening at the moment.”

  “Oh, really? Worse than what’s already going on?” Kevin groans. “Lay it on us.”

  Cassie peeks her head out from behind Matthew’s leg. She timidly steps forward. “H-H-Hello.”

  “Oh! A Pianosaurus!” Jack exclaims, delighted.

  Kevin licks his lips. “Can we eat it?”

  “No!” Matthew says. “Absolutely not! She’s not feral. Mom found her when they fell. Apparently, she’s come from another safe haven that’s been…taken over by some less-than-kind toys.”

  “Bad kids,” Cassie adds.

  “Bad kids?” Jack says nervously. “Like…like bullies?”

  “Yes, yes! Bullies, bad kids! They hurt, they eat!”

  You wonder if the bite marks you saw came from one of these ‘bad kids.’ “How did you get away from them?” you ask.

  “T-T-Tunnels. Quick travel. Ran away to f-f-find help.” She points a claw down. “H-Hotel.”

  “Hotel?” You are confused. “What do you mean, hotel? Playtime Co. doesn’t have a hotel.”

  Cassie clicks and whirrs. “I-Is real,” she insists. “Big. F-F-Fancy. Bad kids l-l-like.”

  “Have you guys heard of there being a hotel here?” you ask the boys.

  Kevin and Jack shrug. Matthew looks lost. “Never. We didn’t know much of what was happening outside of PlayCare, but I’m sure we would’ve known if there was a hotel.”

  “Secret.” Cassie stomps a foot. “Secret.”

  “You keep saying that, but it’s not helping,” Kevin says.

  “Cassie.” You step closer to her. “Can you bring us to this hotel? If there’s a chance we can help save your friends, I want to take it.” You pause, then look at the boys. “Is…is that what you want?”

  “Absolutely,” Matthew immediately says. “That’s what I’ve wanted from the beginning. If there’s any chance to save as many kids as possible and get them out of the factory, I want to take it.”

  “But what about us?” Kevin argues. “What if we get hurt, huh? Who’s gonna come to our rescue?”

  “I-I will!” you answer. “I’m here! I can help lead you guys to safety! I’m smaller, and I’m fast, and I’m pretty good at hiding. Plus-”

  “Oh, come on, you think you’ll be any help to us?” Kevin throws his hands up, exasperated. “You don’t even have your grabpack anymore! How can you protect us from enemies?”

  You feel your self-confidence wither. His words make sense; you’re just a tiny little human, and they’re three massive monsters. They’re powerful, dangerous, yet vulnerable too. What can you do to protect them? Without your grabpack, how are you supposed to have any sort of effect on the factory’s experiments?

  “Don’t say that, Kevin!” Jack says. “Mommy may be small, and not as strong as we are, but that doesn’t mean they’re defenseless! They’re fast, and resourceful, and smart! If anyone can help us-” He gives you a dazzling grin. “They can!”

  Kevin makes an annoyed sound. “You have too much faith in them. Remember the last time we trusted them with the lives of kids.”

  “Kevin.” Matthew’s voice grows dangerous. “Don’t you dare go there.”

  “No.” You hold a hand up to him, imploring him to be silent. “He’s right. I…really haven’t given you three very many reasons to trust me.” You sigh. “For all the time I’ve known you, I’ve been the scared one. And I don’t think I’ll ever stop being scared. But you guys…you guys are scared, too. You’re just kids, and this place is terrifying. It’s hell. You need someone to protect you from that. So, even if I don’t have my grabpack, and I’m not strong, or intimidating…” You fixate your gaze on Kevin, giving him as assertive a stare as possible. “I can still help. I will help. I-I’m your mom. And moms protect their kids.”

  Kevin doesn’t say anything. You think he may be baffled.

  “Mom…” Matthew whispers, voice thick with emotion.

  “Awww, Mommy!” Jack cheers. “I knew you’d believe in yourself soon! You’re the best protector! Nothing bad is going to happen to us while you’re here!”

  You aren’t so sure you can promise him that. Your rush of positivity is already wearing thin, bringing you back to a more realistic viewpoint: you are powerless without your grabpack. As far as you know, your original one is lost within the rubble of the prison, knocked away during your first encounter with Jack.

  You know there are more to be found in the factory. You’ve seen them.

  Maybe…the kids won’t mind a little side quest.

[kamisobsessed]

Skittles

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x actress!reader

Warnings: Implied age gap (legal though duh), sexual innuendo obviously, Jensen is single in this world

Summary: You're on the cast of Gen V and you're going to be working in a scene with your childhood celebrity crush, Jensen Ackles. The sexual innuendos in the scene make you feel both amused, and something else.

A/N: I finished writing this super fast, not sure if I like it but I am terrible at finishing writing, so I sat down and forced myself to finish this on my lunch break💀. Not edited/proof read.

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Being on the cast of Gen V, hell being on the cast for anything within The Boys universe is a wild time. The shit that gets done and said on these shows; one thing is for sure, better not let your mother catch you watching.

Not only are you on the cast, this is your first big acting job, you're the most inexperienced person here. And the worst best part about today, you'll be working in a scene today with Jensen Ackles, someone you used to, and maybe still do, have a huge celebrity crush on.

When you read the script for the first time, you were not expecting to see that Jensen will have to say such things like "diddle that skittle" or "find that man in the canoe" but there the words were. You make sure to highlight that part, putting a winky face by it. You'll definitely be remembering that and saving this script.

You chuckle to yourself as you walk around on set reading over the script. You got so caught up reading it, your clumsy self walked right into someone, knocking their coffee all over yourself.

"Oh, hey, you okay?" the man says "that wasn't hot was it?"

"No, I'm fine...not hot..." you say wiping yourself off some, and when you gaze up, you're met with none other than Jensen Ackles himself.

"God, I'm sorry, Jensen, I wasn't watching, I can get you a new coffee." You feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"No, don't worry about it. Sure that wasn't hot, it was a new cup," he says looking you over to make sure you're not burned.

"No, it's just warm. But it's okay. I'm okay. Are you okay? I didn't mean to run into you I'm so sorry, I was reading the script and then got distracted and-" You begin nervously rambling but he cuts you off,

"All is good, as long as you're not burned from the coffee, it's okay" he smiles reassuringly, his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he clears his throat,

"Well, you better go change or you might smell like coffee the rest of the day," he says with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Right yeah, I should go do that, um, sorry again..." you say refocusing yourself on the present moment instead of gazing into his eyes any longer.

Damn he has nice eyes. And lips. And hands. And arms. Okay, stop daydreaming, time to go get changed.

You head off to your trailer to change, thankfully not in your costume yet. You glance over the script another time while in your trailer. You read over the lines Jensen has again, this time blushing a little as your mind wanders places it probably shouldn't wander.

No, he's your colleague. Snap out of it. But you'd be damned if you didn't want him to diddle your skittle...oh god. What is wrong with you.

When it's time to film, you and your costars are standing on the set when Jensen enters the scene. You're completely lost in the sight of him in the Soldier Boy costume, and then when he says his lines, you have to avoid melting into a puddle right then and there. Stay in character, focus. Now is not the time.

When Soldier Boy winked, he looked directly at you when he did it, as if he could sense how much you were reacting to this. Your body tenses and you try your best to hide your blush creeping on your cheeks.

After the scene is done following a few takes, you b-line to get some water. After downing a cup or two, you still feel warm inside and you just head to your trailer.

"Calm down, this is so wrong. Just breath, relax" you tell yourself as you pace around the floor.

There's a knock on the door and you take another deep breath and open the door, finding Jensen on the other side.

"Jensen-" you say quickly.

"Hey, can I, uh, can I come in?" He replies, a small smirk plastered on his face.

"Um yeah, okay, come in" you open the door more to let him into your trailer.

He looks around your trailer before his gaze falls back on you, "Just wanted to check in, make sure you were still okay after the coffee incident earlier"

"Oh? Yeah, I'm fine. No issues. Just some coffee smelling clothes to wash," you try to be as nonchalant as possible but you're failing miserably.

"Well, I got you something. I know you ran into me but I feel bad for spilling my coffee in you, and I have a feeking you'll like what I got you" he cheekily grins and he pulls out a packet of skittles, gently tossing them to you.

Your eyes widen, "W-what?" you say as your face practically turns as red as a tomato.

"Caught a glimpse of your script earlier and you made sure to really emphasize my lines" he winks at you, "Don't worry, I think it's cute. a little funny even" he grins.

You hide your face in your hands "oh my god, that's so embarrassing" you chuckle behind your hands

He chuckles as he walks up to you taking your wrists and pulling your hands down from your face. "It's cute. You're cute." he smiles as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

Your cheeks flush again "you really know how to make a girl blush" you say trying to hide the redness of your cheeks.

"Hey, don't hide that pretty face, sweetheart" he smiles, using his fingers to guide your chin to face him.

"I gotta go, but just wanted to make sure you were still okay, and give you that present" he grins.

"Well thank you" you chuckle lightly looking at the skittles in your hand.

"Anytime, sweetheart" he smiles as he walks out the door, but he stops before closing the door, "oh and maybe later, if you'll be here, maybe I can come back and, you know, diddle that skittle," he winks at you before closing the door leaving you wide-eyed, flustered, and alone in your trailer with nothing but your thoughts, and a bag of skittles.

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A/N: sooo should I do a smutty part 2?🫢

tags: @cevansbaby-dove @justwhisperingfantasies @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @mostlymarvelgirl @multiversefanfics

[dilfykovich]

welcome home (f. colapinto)

summary: after months of being away from races, he finally came back to your shared buenos aires apartment unannounced. words: 2.4k warnings: female (or has female anatomy/female presenting) reader, mentions of infidelity, porn without plot, detailed sex, unprotected sex, the authors crass attempt at dirty talk. note: this is my first official work. this is a work that i left unfinished back in december (left unfinshed due to uni and all) and only worked it today. and since it IS my first official work, my writing isn't still polished as many authors, but i made an attempt and i am very confident posting. so yeah, i hope you like my work, any feedbacks are welcome :)))))))

Days without Franco might be one of the most boring days in my life. It was all but monotonous, you spend your whole day dedicated to passing the days until he’s home again; reading every book you got in your hands, trying out the video games he used to play with his mates, or talking to your friends and family to the phone. Franco’s absence in your shared apartment in Buenos Aires felt that you’ve lost something in you, albeit temporarily.

‘I’ll be there soon, cariño, I love you,’ you’ve read that text Franco had sent you yesterday for over a thousand times now. Persistent thoughts have been lingering in your mind after his inaction ever since. Was his flight delayed? What if Williams gave him extra duties before winter break? Did he found out something terrible about you that he decided to ghost on you? Or is he cheating on you? These questions are left unanswered until he finally comes home.

But for now, you decided it’s one of those boring days again. You were at the kitchen, leaning on the counter, silently reading an erotic novel that you bought in the used bookstore a while ago. The blazing summer of Argentina had forced you to wear that yellow sundress your mother bought to you before moving in with him, without wearing your underwear to minimize the heat in your body.

You were fully immersed in the novel you were reading. You relate to the female lead, an unsatisfied woman unable to release her carnal desires and frustrations to her sailor husband. It hit home to you, although compared to her, you will never cheat on Franco and he swore he never would never cheat on you, despite his reputation being a Ladies’ Man.

You sipped a glass of water, letting the cold liquid flow down to your throat. Your eyes travelling along the words of the book when suddenly, a knock was heard through the front door.  All of your senses had now awakened, you gathered your excitement in a smile. You cannot help but to sprint to the door as fast as possible, in the hopes of seeing him again.

You turned the doorknob and saw Franco in the doorstep, with months’ worth of luggage with him. It was not long that he greets you with a hungry kiss, filled with longing and desire. Of course, you returned the kiss in the same intensity as his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his body closer to you.

After a few moments of making out, both your lips reluctantly let each other go due to lack of oxygen. But it will not be the last instance that he will kiss you again. “I miss you so much,” he muttered as he pants through the words.

You scanned his eyes as you stabilize your breathing before asking the inevitable question, a hand caressing to his cheeks. “Why didn’t you respond to my texts or calls yesterday and today? I was damn worried about you.”

He drew another sigh before speaking. “Williams thought it would be a nice idea to give me extra duties before the winter break. And also, my flight got delayed and my phone is dead.”

You gave him a sighed of relief with his answer, “Thank God, I thought you were ditching me.”

You both let out a chuckle at your overthinking, Franco’s hands cupping your flushed cheeks. “I won’t ditch you, I’m yours.” He purred which made your spine shiver.

You smiled at the response, still staring deep at his green eyes. “Anyways, Welcome Home, Franco…” You muttered, almost a whisper. “Let’s get your bags inside.”

After you both leave the luggage in the living room. You both went to the kitchen. He sat on the stool next to the counter whilst you to pick up some alfajores and some mate.

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked, concern etching to your face, your eyes focused on placing the snacks at a plate. Airplane food is not known to be savory and appetizing. With this, paired with a long flight to Buenos Aires, it wasn’t surprising that he hasn’t ate decently. But only response that Franco gave to you was an agreeing hum.

“Franco, here’s your plate—” But as you turn your head around to hand him the plate, you widen your eyes and can’t help but blush as you saw him skimming the book you were reading. His smirked to himself, enjoying the snippets of the erotic scenes printed through the pages. You turned your body around in embarrassment.

He chuckled and stood up. “Is this what you were reading when I’m away?”

After a moment of awkward silence, you let out a sigh of defeat. “Y-yes.” You replied uneased. Your fingers fidgeting your dress. “I’ve been reading it. But you can’t blame me, I’m bored.”

“Is that so?” He lets out a low laugh, amused on the effect he was inflicting on you. He makes slow calculating steps towards you, stopping inches away from you. His hot breath in your ear making you shiver.

“Now we’re alone together again. I’m going to make you real satisfied.” He whispered, making you incapable of breathing properly.

And with that, you felt nibbling on your neck, arms wrapping around your waist, and a hard clothed crotch touching your ass, making you slightly jump in shock. Although you badly needed it after weeks of not being together.

“Fran…” You whispered to him, managing some composure in the midst of pleasure, although you were stammering. “W-what are you doing?”

“Relax…” He gave you a reassuring look, his smirk widening. “I just miss you. You left me hanging with that make out session earlier” And he continues kissing and nipping your neck, leaving red marks on the right places.

“I suppose…” You mumbled, going silent for a moment, as in finding the right words. “… I suppose you’re right.”

Unable to fight in the pleasure you’ve longed for so long anymore, you turned around and meet his with the same fervor and hunger as before. You both interlocked your lips before you set your mouth slightly agape to his exploring tongue, making you let out a whimper.

His mouth descended again to your neck and collarbone. Peppering you with kisses and hickeys that will certainly leave an obvious mark in these areas for a while. And when you were pre-occupied with the sensations he was giving to you, his fingers interlocked with the lace of your sundress.

“That sundress of yours,” he commented, “It’s hard not to

You gasped at his fingers and lowered your gaze at his, whose hands giving a trail of fire into your eyes. Looking deep into his eyes, you smiled, caressing his cheek, a non-verbal agreement to continue.

So, he proceeded with his ministrations. His mouth between your cleavage. His right hand tugging down the straps of your sundress. And his body leading you to the kitchen counter. You obliged, making small backward steps to it.

As you both reach the kitchen counter, you lie down in front of him. You catch your breath. Red flushes your skin. The straps of the sundress have pulled down. You felt the clenching of your cunt; slick starting to lubricate and stain your panties. It is certain that arousal had overtaken your senses.

“God, I want you so bad.” You said through the panting of your breath. “I need you.”

And just as that, you pulled down the collar of his shirt to kiss him. Franco was surprised at your eagerness but he obliged, kissing you back at the same level of fervor as yours. Pulling down the sundress down to your breast.

You returned the favor to Franco, trying to pull up his shirt. Noticing your actions, he reluctantly pulled back to your body and starting undress, revealing his toned torso. His boxers was the only article of clothing that he has on left, but there was his angry cock forming into a tent.

His gaze wandered to admire your exposed breasts. His hand gently cupping one of it. “May I?” He asked rather politely. Knowing the implications of his question, you smiled and nodded.

Immediately, he puts his mouth at your hardened nipples. Sucking, pinching, and licking your sensitive buds in intervals. You can’t help but to spill curses and moans, appreciating the pleasure he’s inflicting to you.

“Fuck, Franco...” you whimpered as he continues worshiping your breasts, his tongue flickered your nipple. “Yes… yes!” You whimpered in pleasure, your fingers tugging to his brown curly hair, as you teetering in pleasure.

Eventually, he fully discarded your sundress to the floor, fully exposing your torso to his. Then, his mouth makes a slow descend from your stomach and to your thighs, occasionally leaving hickeys in some spots.

At your thighs, he noticed a stain at your panties. “God, wet already?” He chuckled as he gently traced your wet, clothed folds with his thumb. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“Isn’t it obvious? After months of no sex?” You sarcastically remarked, chuckling at it after. “Me and my pussy miss you.”

He laughed lowly at your statement as his gaze on his fingers playing the waistband of your panties. “You have no idea how it’s torture when away with you.” He murmured, his hands slid down to your panties, rubbing your dripping clit in a soft. You have no choice but wail at his touch.

“Mi amor, you are so eager for me.” He whispered as his left hand slowly pull down the panties. “I can’t wait to bury my cock inside of you and fill that pretty little pussy with my cock.”

Without hesitation, his face goes down on you to graze on your aching pussy. He licked and sucked on your clit like man having his meal after being starved for days. “You taste sweet, cariño. I could eat your pussy all day.”

Eventually, Franco entered his two fingers inside of you, making you cry in pleasure. He quickly thrusted it in and out of you. The sensations are overwhelming. You only choice was to moan and curse his name in a mantra-like manner. Your hand clutching to his hair once more.

It wasn’t long until you were on edge. With a flicker of his tongue, you finally came undone. Your body shudders. Toes curled up. Eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your pussy clenches on his fingers, squirt gushing into the marble countertop and his face. He stupidly grinned at your orgasm, slowly pulled out his drenched fingers and savored your juices.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

Without letting you catch your breath; he finally spoke up. “Bend over the counter,” he sternly ordered. And despite your legs still reeling from the orgasm, you had before, you obliged. Coming down to the countertop, your body bending over on your stomach, presenting your ass to Franco.

Franco’s breath hitched and bit his lips when he saw you following his orders. “Good… girl.” He praised you. His right hand groped and slapped one of your cheeks, making you cry in a cocktail of pain and pleasure.

“Hurry up, mi amor,” you wailed, begging to be fucked by his cock. “Give it to me now, please.”

His smirked widened at my pleas. Initially, he wanted to prolong the teasing until you were a begging mess. But now, he was merciful at you, considering you were both away for months.

He leans down close and whispered in your ear. “Mhm,” he hums in approval. “Since I missed you so much, I’ll going to give you what you want cariño. I’m going to fuck your pussy until you can’t properly walk tomorrow.”

You let out the ragged moan in his filthy words. Although he always talks dirty during sex, his utters always has an effect on you, like a drug that you will take over and over again that it can be the death of you.

Finally, Franco slid down his boxers, his cock finally sprang in liberation. His hand guides it to your entrance. His tip rubbing your clit, bracing on what he will do to you.

He slowly enters his cock inside of you, getting used in the cunt he didn’t fucked in months. “Fuck! You’re so tight!” He grunted as he goes deep into you.

Slowly but surely, he started to move in and out of you. And when the time was right, he picks up the pace, thrusting relentlessly within you.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” You screamed, your voice almost breaking to the sensations. It was the only words you can form in your throat as his cock continues to ravage you. Your back arched and rolled as you meet Franco’s flesh into yours. His pounces on your g-spot were brutal and almost animalistic.

Franco leans down to ear to mutter sweet nothings, “Fuck, this pussy is insatiable. No, you’re insatiable. I don’t know when I will be done with you. Oh God, the way it clenches to my cock…” The rest was a just a collection of murmurs as you were too overwhelmed to hear the rest of it.

But he knew that he won’t last long—no, you both knew you wouldn’t last long. His thrusts have become sloppier but it he wasn’t going to slow down.

“Fran,” you murmured, your voice low and almost. “I’m gonna—”

“M-me too,” he cuts you off as he continues his ministrations, stammering between. “L-let’s c-cum… together.”

The pouncing of his cock in you progresses until the inevitable happens. With one last thrust he made; you finally came in a wail. Your body convulsed and shattered below him. Despite having sex with him multiple times, this one was mind-shattering and euphoric. It was never you felt before.

Franco came immediately after. His hot cum poured inside of you, filling you up with ease. He grunts and shuddered as waves of pleasure crashes into him.

After moments (might be even minutes) of you both catching your breaths, you finally collected your composure and spoke.

“That was…” You panted in between the words, trying to catch your breath.

“Amazing.” Franco finished what you want to say. His arms wrapped around you, as if he never wants to let go of you.

“Yeah,’ you nodded, your voice tired and ragged. “Amazing.”

You slowly turned around to meet him on front. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Your eyes interlock with his.

“I love you, Franco.” You muttered, almost a swan song to you. “I missed you. Welcome Home.”

Instead of omitting his response verbally, he leans into you, your lips meeting together. After a few moments, he reluctantly pulled away.

“I missed you too. I loved you too.”

dilfykovich │ 2025

[bianotbia]

— 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 [ 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧 ]

main masterlist

˗ˏˋ you promised yourself to never fall for jeonghan, but when new feelings bloom inside you have to make a very painful decision ˎˊ˗

⤷ a/n : this was actually the first ever fanfic I wrote and, after I lost my previous account, I swore to myself I would try to rewrite it. even though I spent months in it and used a little bit of help from chat gpt to help me rewrite some parts, I couldn't be happier with how it turned out ^_^

⤷ contains : office crush!jeonghan x gn!reader, office au, hanahaki disease, full angst because I'm sad, mentions of blood and bruises [ wc : 2.6k ]

⤷ now playing : daisy by pentagon

Spring arrived in a hush of pink petals, drifting weightlessly through the air before settling on the pavement like forgotten confessions. A warm breeze carried the scent of earth and blossoms, yet all I could focus on was Jeonghan—his head tilted back, eyes half-lidded as if caught between daydreams and reality.

“Jeonghan,” I nudged him lightly, pretending not to notice the way my chest tightened at his absentminded smile. “Did you read the report I sent you this morning?”

He turned to me, lips curling at the corners in that easy, unshaken way of his. “I will,” he promised. “After lunch.” And just like that, I let myself believe, if only for this fleeting moment, that we existed in a world where he would look at me the same way he looked at the cherry blossoms—like something worth pausing for.

Half an hour later, we made our way back to the office after the lunch break ended, walking alongside the blooming cherry blossoms that painted the path towards it. He nudged closer with a spark in his eyes, as if he just came up with a brilliant idea. “Why don't we go out for some drinks tonight? We can celebrate spring and you can take your head off work for a bit.”

The pounding inside my chest echoed in my ears after hearing those words, feeling a flush painting my face almost the same color as the pink rain falling around us. It wasn't unusual for us to meet each other for drinks after work. Sometimes our other colleagues at the office would come along and other times we would go on by ourselves, but lately he hadn't been going out much.

I slightly nodded my head, trying to brush away the sharp pain that stung my heart as I wished I had never met Jeonghan, just so that the heartbreak of knowing he would never return my feelings for him wouldn’t make me slowly wither every day.

A dark shade of blue covered the sky, gracing it with stars invisible to our eyes blinded by the city lights. The scent of alcohol took over the streets along with the sound of slurred voices laughing over nothing. Already on our third glass, the conversation barely consisted of meaningless giggles and words that surely would get lost into the night.

“What’s your favorite flower?” He asked, a confused frown settled in my face which made him laugh at my reaction. “C’mon…it’s spring! Get in the vibes.” His body felt warmer—closer than it had ever been—as if one faint touch could send me on a maddening spiral of passion.

“Cherry blossoms…I think.” He hummed, a low sound that traveled through my body and made it even more limp thanks to the empty glasses spread around our table.

“What about you, Han?” I gazed at him, searching for the slightest slip of any hidden emotion that might only show when someone is drunk. He giggled and downed the remains of his beer, and from that moment on the only thing I could remember on the following day was the one word that came from his teasing smile.

“Daisies.”

The weekend faded into a grayish and gloomy monday morning, as if an incoming storm was getting closer at each second. Flashes of last friday night still swirled inside my mind and his laugh still echoed in my heart along with a conversation that seemed to go on all night long. There wasn't anything not to love about him—pretty face, smart comebacks, mischievous smile—how could I not fall in love?

Yet something always tightened inside my chest whenever he was around, something that drowned out any kind of words that conceived how much I liked him, how much I longed to have him close to me.

“Hey, did you see it?” I heard as soon as I arrived at my desk, mindlessly turning to my grinning colleague, Yena, who leaned over her own desk, “Mr. Yoon brought flowers to Haerin today.” She tried to cover a growing smile that quickly turned into a pout “They are so cute together! Oh, now I want a boyfriend to give me flowers too.”

“Boyfriend?” That word played over and over in my mind as I still tried to process everything she just said.

“Yeah! Apparently they just started going out in the past few weeks.” For a second, sitting in that cold office, all of the air inside my lungs seemed to vanish.

“Wh–what flowers did he give her?” I couldn’t keep my voice non-chalant, but she didn't notice anyway, just humming to herself while trying to remember what she saw.

“I think they were pink” cheerfully nodding her head, “Uh-hum, I'm pretty sure they were cherry blossoms.”

In the corner of my eyes I saw a shadow approaching us, Yena glanced up with a sparkling smile, one I tried to imitate as I realized who came over.

“Hi Mr. Yoon! We were just talking about you and Haerin. We're so happy for both of you!” He gave her a polite smirk, but quickly turned to me with a worried look. “Are you feeling alright? You seem quite pale.”

Any words I had to say to him got caught on the back of my throat. I felt my head nodding and could only hope that the tears pooling in my eyes wouldn't cross my cheeks in front of him.

That evening, my apartment was eerily quiet, the air cold and the room dimly lit. The only sounds were the relentless storm that had been pouring since lunchtime and the steady rush of water filling my bathtub. As I sank into its warmth, the sensation faintly reminded me of the rain dripping over my coat as I waited for Jeonghan at our usual meeting spot in front of the building. Only, this time, he didn’t show up.

As I neared the restaurant we often went to, my eyes caught a glimpse of him and Haerin. They laughed together, his usually sleepy eyes shining with a liveliness I had never seen before. I kept walking, eventually settling on another place to eat. Yet, even as the rain soaked through my clothes, the thing that bothered me most wasn’t the cold creeping into my bones—it was a strange itch at the back of my throat.

I heated up some soup after the bath, hoping to fend off this possible spring fever. But the itch remained, growing worse at every second and every cough that came out of me. Finally, something emerged from my mouth—a single daisy petal resting on my lips. It felt like a cruel joke while I forced myself to finish my meal.

Later, as I lay in bed and my thoughts slowly drifted away to dreamland, I could only cling to one desperate hope—that by morning, the delicate white petal would have disappeared, as if it had never been there—just like a bittersweet memory.

Unfortunately, the flower was still sitting at my nightstand as I woke up, alongside the annoying scratch that came from within my throat. I hurried to get dressed trying to ignore the suffocating sensation that made me feel even more ill while riding the crowded train, its constant rhythmic movement barely matching my ragged breaths.

The bitter feeling faded by the time I walked into the building, leaving just that unbearable sensation of something lodged in my throat. An itch I couldn’t scratch. A weight I needed to expel, as if letting it go was the only way to keep moving forward.

I ran into Haerin as I arrived at the office. The concern in her eyes told me I must have looked as awful as I felt. Time dragged mercilessly, stretching an hour into what felt like days. Had I already gone to lunch? Caught the train? Made it home? Or was I still lost, wandering through the remnants of a forgotten memory?

Then, once again, that suffocating feeling clawed its way up from my lungs to my throat—the desperate urge to rid myself of whatever was trapped inside. Not wanting to draw attention or fuel office gossip, I bolted to the restroom on the other floor.

Alone at last, my lungs felt like they were being filled with a hundred thorns, my throat suddenly surrounded by weeds that choked every airway. The coughing worsened and didn’t stop—not until flowers slipped through my fingers just as the tears that dripped from my eyes. The amount of them could probably make the decoration of a small wedding–their wedding.

By the end of that painful episode I was sitting on the cold tiled floor surrounded by white petals, a tear stained face and a bouquet full of daisies hanging on my shaky hands.

Everyday I saw Jeonghan mildly flirting with Haerin at the office, everyday I feigned a smile, and everyday I got home and felt flowers and more flowers coming from inside me. However, something started to worry me more than having to clean the white petals off my bathroom—was that daisies weren’t thorny flowers—yet as blood stained my hands and pain settled in the back of my throat, I knew this wasn’t some uncanny spring fever I could just brush off.

I couldn’t keep living like this—pretending that nothing had changed. I couldn’t keep going out with everyone after work and seeing both of them laugh at an inside joke they shared with each other, knowing that I wasn’t the one he looked at with such loving eyes.

The rain had poured relentlessly all day, a dull gray sky stretching endlessly above. That evening, Jeonghan invited me out for some drinks, just like old times, insisting I had been too distant lately. I only hoped the dim bar lights would be enough to hide the exhaustion in my eyes and the bruises in my lips.

“It’s been so long since we’ve gone out together. Feels like we’re not even friends anymore,” he said, nudging me playfully. I forced out a tired laugh, but it faded almost as soon as it escaped my lips.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Han.” My voice wavered as I met his gaze.

He frowned slightly. “That sounds serious—are you okay? You don’t look like yourself these past few weeks.”

A deep sigh left me as I looked away, the weight of everything I had been carrying pressing down on me. “I’m leaving the company. I found… something better. The people are nice, and the pay is good too.”

His face froze. He blinked once—twice—before finally speaking. “Oh…well…why are you saying it as if it’s something bad? You should be happy about it, right? Let's drink up to that.” We clinked our glasses while his gaze still lingered on me, a fading laughter from a night far away still echoed in the night.

As we got out of the bar the rain hadn't stopped and a sudden wave of longing rushed right through me. “There's…something else I wanted to say to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. But I couldn’t speak. The words were caught in my throat, tangled in the thorns tightening around it, suffocating any attempt to express what I truly felt.

“Actually, never mind. It wasn’t that important.” He chuckled softly, the sound light and effortless, and we continued walking along the pink-strewn path of fallen cherry blossoms.

The next few days passed in a blur, an empty void where time moved, but I remained still. I saw them together at the office—smiling, happy—and let all my unsaid words spill out only when I was alone at home. As my last days at work dwindled, I barely managed to say proper goodbyes to my colleagues, promising to keep in touch with everyone, even Jeonghan—but deep down, I knew that was a lie I couldn’t keep telling myself.

The moment my final paycheck hit my account, I made the call. A hospital I found online—one that specialized in Hanahaki disease. They told me the procedure to remove the flowers from my lungs was costly and could have irreversible effects on my mind. But after everything that I went through, it didn’t feel like the worst idea.

As a single tear traced down my cheek while I entered the surgery room, the doctor assured me it was a simple procedure. That when I woke up the next morning, everything would feel just the same. Everything—except for one thing. He would be gone. Every memory, every moment we had shared—erased as if they had never existed at all, like a forgotten dream.

As the voices in the room faded into the background and the bright lights dissolved into darkness, the last thing I heard was Jeonghan’s laughter—followed by a sharp, piercing white noise.

When I opened my eyes, sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I took a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on my chest was gone. My lungs, once suffocated, now welcomed the air freely—light, empty, and unburdened.

Slightly sore from the surgery, I listened to the soft sounds coming through the window. Outside, summer was in its final stretch, clinging to its last few scorching days before making way for autumn. The pink trees swayed gently in the warm breeze, like a distant, faded memory fluttering somewhere in the depths of my heart.

As I looked to the side, something caught my eye—a vase of white daisies. A small note from the doctor rested beside it: “As much as it might hurt to see them, these were too beautiful to throw away.”

Something deep inside me stirred. I knew what he meant by it. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite grasp who I was trying to remember. Only the distant echo of a familiar voice lingered—faint, unreachable, already slipping away.

Summer’s final days passed in a golden haze as I settled into my new job, adjusting to the unfamiliar faces and surroundings. This weekend, I had plans to meet up with Yena, just a casual get-together, a chance to catch up on all the latest gossip.

I stepped out of the chocolate shop, a small bag of gifts in hand, when I accidentally bumped into a young man. He took a long look at me before his face lit up with a bright smile. “Oh my god, how long has it been? It feels like ages! How have you been?”

For a brief moment, I furrowed my brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, sir, but I think you have the wrong person.”

He chuckled at my puzzled expression, reaching slightly for my hand, but I instinctively pulled away. “What are you talking about? It hasn’t even been that long... It’s me, Jeonghan.” His once cheerful expression wavered, slowly shifting into something more uncertain, almost desperate.

There was something in his eyes, something pleading, as if silently begging me to remember. But I had nothing else to say to him.

“Sorry, I really don’t think I’m who you’re looking for,” I said, my voice polite but distant. “I should get going. I hope you find them again. Have a great day.” With a quick bow, I muttered another apology and walked away, leaving the stranger standing there.

Jeonghan remained frozen in place, his breath hitching as he watched me disappear down the tree-lined path. His vision blurred, the world around him smearing into shades of green and pink as tears welled in his eyes. A tightness coiled around his throat, sharp and suffocating. And then, finally, he felt it—a strange itch clawing its way up from deep inside him. Coughing lightly, he reached up, and from his lips, he pulled a single delicate petal.

A sakura blossom. Resting on his trembling palm.

the images aren't mine! all rights reserved to © bianotbia 2025. please do not claim, translate, copy or modify any of my works as your own. reblogs are appreciated! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Crimson Ties ~ 6

CRIMSON TIES MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,525ish

Summary: You play the piano and Tony hears. Maria invites you over for lunch.

Warning(s): unwanted touching, Brock Rumlow

Notes: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write anything. I'm working on it. Please send in reactions!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Days pass with no issues. You and Tony stick to your respective sides of the house and barely see each other, even in passing. You didn’t mind. You were left to do your own thing for a long span of time for the first time in basically your entire life. It was nice. A freedom that you hadn’t felt.

One day, as you waited for some of your current pottery projects to dry, you found yourself in the living area. Your eyes scanned the large built-in bookshelves for something interesting to read. Nothing was catching your eye until you turned and caught sight of the nice piano near the windows. You walked over to the piano and ran your hand lightly over the keys. Glancing around, you made sure the coast was clear before you sat down and began playing. Fur Elise by Ludwig van Beethoven was the first piece of music to come to mind. As you played, you got lost in the music, letting the world around you drown out.

Tony was working in his office when the sound of piano began filtering in. He looked up curiously.

“Rogers, did you turn on music?” Tony asked.

“Nope,” Steve responded with a slight smirk. He had been watching you carefully and knew it was you at the piano.

Tony huffed, getting out of his seat and heading out of his office. The piano playing grew louder as he crept towards the living area. He peeked his head around the corner and saw you sitting at the piano. Tony couldn’t help but stand there and listen. You were playing so effortlessly and with a grace that he had only witnessed when his mother was at the piano. His mother had forced Tony to take lessons when he was younger. Did he remember anything? He actually didn’t know.

Steve watched curiously as Tony leaned against the wall and focused on you playing. A small seed of hope planted in Steve’s heart that maybe good could come from the union, even if just friendship. When you were finished with your third song, Tony stepped out into the living room, clapping. You jumped from the seat, scared and embarrassed. You stood beside the piano, hands clasped in front of you with your head down. 

“I’m sorry,” you immediately said. “I’ll quiet down.”

Tony shook his head. “I’m clapping. That means it’s good.”

You nodded, muttering a soft “thank you”. 

Tony studied you, noting how nervous and uncomfortable you looked. “I was working when—“

“I’m sorry. I won’t disturb you again.” Your father had gotten after you time and time again to not play the piano while he was working.

“God, do you ever not apologize?” You bit your bottom lip, wishing you could disappear. “I am just trying to tell you that I enjoyed it. It was beautiful, but whatever.” Tony spun around and waved his hand. “You can go back to it or not. I don’t care.” Then headed back to his office.

“Sorry,” Steve apologized. “He’s terrible at giving compliments.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled. “I should have known better.”

“Y/N—“

“I’ll be in my studio.” You rushed off before Steve could stop you.

~~~

“Hello, Maria,” you greeted, answering your phone the next day. You were in your studio, setting up to paint.

“Hello, my dear,” Maria replied. “I was wondering if you would like to come over and have lunch with Natasha, Peggy, and I?”

“Oh, I, uh…”

“I’m sure Happy could take you. Just ask Tony.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll see you soon then, okay? Bye.”

Anxiety bubbled in your chest as you through about asking Tony for permission to leave. Would he allow you to? Your father and Brock would never allow it, so why would Tony be any different? But this was his mother that you were going to go visit, so perhaps he would let you. 

You cleaned up before heading to Tony’s office. Your hand shook as rose it to knock on the door.

~~~

Tony’s head rose in confusion as he heard a knock sound at the door. He looked at Steve.

“Do I have a meeting that you didn’t tell me about?” He questioned.

“Not that I know if,” Steve responded, moving to open the door. “Oh, hello, Y/N.” He opened the door wider, taking in your nervousness. He looked back at Tony. “It’s your wife.”

“What do you want?” Tony asked, going back to work.

“I, uh,” you didn’t know how to ask for this. It seemed stupid, but you were never allowed to do anything yourself before. “I was just… Well…”

Tony sighed. “Just spit it out. I have things to do.”

“Your, uh, your mother invited me over for lunch. I was… I was wondering if I could be allowed to go?”

“I don’t know why you’re wasting my time in asking.” You began to brace yourself for a negative answer. “You’re allowed to do what you want. I don’t need to know where you are going or what you’re doing every second. I don’t care enough.”

You were taken back by the fact that he was just letting you go. “Thank you.”

Tony waved her off. “Just go. Happy can drive you there.”

You nodded and turned around.

“Happy will be you in the front,” Steve told you, having quickly gotten a hold of the man.

“Thank you,” you whispered and headed back towards your side of the house. 

You got cleaned up and headed outside, where Happy was waiting next to the car. He smiled at you as you walked up.

“Y/N,” he greeted. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Thank you for taking me, Happy,” you said. “I’m sorry if I threw off your plans for the day.”

Happy shook his head. “My job is to drive you and Tony around, wherever that may be.” He opened the door for you. “You ready to go?”

You nodded and slipped into the car.

~~~

The Stark Mansion was much bigger than your new home and your father’s. It didn’t shock you. They had a statement to make. As Happy pulled the car up, you noticed that Rhodey, the head of security, was already outside waiting for you. He got to your door as the car stopped and opened it.

“It’s nice to see you, Y/N,” Rhodey greeted. “I hope living with Tony hasn’t been too bad.”

“It’s been good,” you responded, allowing him to help you out of the car.

“Really?” Rhodey looked unconvinced. “You sure?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Well, Howard would like to see you before you join Maria for lunch.”

You immediately grew nervous. “O—Okay,” you stammered. 

Rhodey led you into the mansion and down one of the many halls to Howard’s office. There was a large man standing outside the door, guarding.

“Bucky, this is Y/N,” Rhodey introduced. “Y/N, this is Howard’s guard, Bucky Barnes.”

“Nice to met you,” Bucky said with a nod. You gave a nod back, opting to stay silent due to your nerves. “He’s waiting for you.” Bucky opened the door to reveal Howard sitting at his desk. “Y/N’s here, boss.”

Howard looked up and gave her a small smile. “Come on in, Y/N.” You entered the office. “Welcome.” He stood up and motioned to the chair across from his desk. “Please, have a seat.” You quickly obeyed, eyes scanning the room nervously. “Leave us,” he told the other men, who quickly exited. Howard sat back down. “I realized that the two of us haven’t had the opportunity to talk. How are you?”

“I’m good,” you responded quickly.

“You seem nervous. There’s no need to. You’re not in trouble and I’m not going to hurt you.”

You nodded, trying to push down your nerves. 

“Is Tony hurting you? Is that why you’re scared?”

“No!” You shook your head. “No! He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Is your father the reason your nervous?” Howard immediately noticed the way you tensed. “You don’t need to worry about Obadiah anymore, sweetheart. I know that he is a harsh man, but you are a Stark now. No one can mess with you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“You can always come to me. Whatever you need. You are my daughter now.”

Howard calling you his daughter felt different than when your own father did. It felt less possessive and more protective. 

“My wife tells me that you create pottery,” he changed the subject, clearly trying to make you comfortable.

“I do,” you responded quietly.

“Maria says it’s amazing. I’m going to have to come over and see your work sometime.”

“It’s not that good. You don’t—“

“My wife only brings what she finds to be very important to my attention. And she found your work important. Don’t downplay yourself. Alright?”

All you could do was nod. You had never had a male figure tell you off in this way before. You didn’t know how to react to it.

“Well, my wife is probably wondering where you are,” Howard continued, “so I should let you go.” He stood up and you followed. “Thank you for meeting with me, Y/N, and please don’t ever be afraid to come to me.”

“Thank you.”

“Rhodey will show you the way.” Likely listening in, Rhodey entered the room at the mention of his name.

“Follow me,” he told you and you didn’t hesitate.

As Rhodey guided you through the halls, you thought back to your meeting with Howard. It was much different than you thought it would be. He’s different than you thought. With the information that you have, Howard is not your father. But you know that men in their business can turn on a dime. Rhodey led you to a beautiful glass sunroom at the back of the house, where Maria, Peggy, and Natasha are already sitting around a table, waiting for you.

“There you are, my dear!” Maria greeted with an excited smile. She immediately came over and wrapped you in a hug. “I hope that my husband didn’t scare you too much.”

“No,” you shook your head, “he was fine.”

“Good.” She pulled back to look you over. “Come and sit.” She led you to a chair between her and Natasha, with Peggy across from you.

It takes you a few moments to relax into their easy conversation, but you eventually do. The four of you chatted and laughed as the Stark Chef’s brought out platters of food. Time went by with great ease and for the first time in your life, you felt like you had friends. 

“Thank you for this invitation,” you said with an easy smile on your lips. “I…” You thought of a moment, how vulnerable do you be with these ladies? Glancing around, you see that they are all patiently waiting for you to continue. Genuinely wanting to know what you have to say. “I’ve never had friends before…”

Peggy inhales sharply across from you while Maria places a hand just above your knee. You look over to see a sad smile across her face.

“You don’t need to worry about having no friends—“

“Or family,” Natasha added.

“Yes, or family,” Maria continued. “You have us. Always.”

~~~

You came home happier than you had been, perhaps ever. Happy was glad to see you that way as he drove you home. Steve immediately noted your change when you walked in and couldn’t help but smile to himself. He could only hope that Tony didn’t ruin it. You headed into the kitchen where Tony was standing at the island, drinking a green smoothie.

“Oh, you’re home,” Tony noted, barely glancing your way. “How were my parents?”

“They were good,” you responded. “Your father and I had a nice talk.”

Tony scoffed. “My father? You’re kidding.” You shook your head. “Let me guess, my father brought you to his office before allowing you to see my mother and told you that we are all family and that you could come to him with anything?” 

You swallowed nervously before you replied, “yes.”

Tony laughed. “He’s playing you. Trying to butter you up in order to make sure that you’re ready to do anything he asks of you when the time comes. I would be careful if I were you and definitely less trustworthy.”

Tony turned around and left, leaving you in a state of internal emotional war. Howard seemed to truly care about you, much more than even Tony. He said that you were his daughter, but he knew some of what your own father had done to you. Was he just trying to get in your head like Tony said? 

You headed to your room, barely paying attention to your surroundings. You didn’t bother flipping the lights on immediately as you entered your room. You closed the doors and began to head through the dark room towards the bathroom. 

The lamp beside your bed flickering on, causing you to jump in fright. Lounging on the bed, clad in all black down to his muddy boots, was Brock Rumlow. His smirk was sinister as his eyes took you in.

“Hello, Y/N,” he smiled. “Miss me?”

“What— What are you doing here, Brock?” You mumbled, heart harming against your chest.

“Well, obviously, I missed you.” He slipped off the bed and headed for you. His hands found your arms, rubbing up and down them. “They’ve been keeping us separated. Stark wouldn’t allow me to be a part of your team. So I had to find another way in to see my future wife.” 

You felt like you were going to puke. Brock quickly pulled you into a sickening kiss. You didn’t realize that he was moving you further away from the bedroom door and towards the glass doors that mirrored the ones from Tony’s room across the porch. Your arms remained at your side with your fists clenched. Brock’s lips began to moved down your neck.

“Tell me,” he muttered between kisses. “Has your idiot husband touched you yet? Has he broke you in for me?”

“N-N-No,” you stammer, scared of what could happen in this moment.

“Shame.” He pecks your lips. “I was hoping that he would have handled on your crying and stretched you out.”

“Brock—“

He quickly silenced you with his hand against your mouth. “Shush, my pet.” Bile jumped up your throat at the nickname. “I won’t do anything tonight. I just want to hold you.”

Brock pulled you closer and kissed you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You couldn’t fight back, couldn’t yell. Who would even come to save you?

What you didn’t know was that Tony caught sight of the scene through the glass doors of his room. He was watching, studying the way the man in your room handled you. Was he your Pepper? He didn’t think you would have one, just the way you were.

Before Tony could question it further, arms wrapped around his waist and a kiss was pressed to his neck.

“Come on, Tony,” Pepper whined. “I’m ready.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he shook away his thoughts. “Let’s go.” And he pulled the curtains closed.

next chapter >

[sadcupcake]

Mikaelson's Gilbert

Part 3

Walking into the Grill I can see Elena sitting with Damon, Stefan and Caroline. I knew Elena left the house but she wouldn’t tell me where she was going, she knew I wanted to head to the Grill to get some lunch, why wouldn’t she just tell me everyone was meeting up here? I ignore them and go and order my food and find a quiet booth to sit in, I can see Damon spare me a singular glance before he returns to their conversation. Damon is the only one who always notices me, only because he makes it a habit to know who is in every room. I suppose after almost 200 years you tend to pick up some paranoid habits. 

Once my food comes I block everyone around me out and do what I came here to do, eat my lunch in peace and read my book. Always being alone you find ways to entertain yourself, books have been a favourite of mine since I was a kid. I should feel embarrassed sitting on my own knowing my sister and almost all of my friends are a few tables over but won’t extend me an invitation to sit, but I don’t if anyone wants to judge me for sitting by myself and not with Elena and her little cult then they can judge her for all she’s put me through our whole lives. 

Just as I’m about to really get lost in my book, food long gone, I see them walk in. Elijah and the eyes that I must have felt that day at the Mikaelson mansion. They haven’t seen me yet and I take the chance to look at them. Each time my eyes pass over one of them a sense of calm and belonging washed over me. I don’t know why I’m feeling this and if I’m being really honest with myself I don’t really care. This is the first time in years that I’ve had a break from the constant state of anxiety my life has been. I’ve learned to cope and manage it, but this, this is the first time I’ve been completely free of it. I quickly look away when I see Elijah catch my eye.

I look back into my book and try to pretend I didn’t see them. My attention is completely back into the book and my mind is consumed by images coming to life off the page when I feel someone standing beside me. Looking up I can see Elijah standing over me seemingly reading whats in my book. I quickly close it before he can read any more, not wanting him to know what kind of books I read. I look up at him, slight blush on my face from the thought of him having read quicker than I could close a book.

“Elijah, what can I do for you” I say hoping he’s just here to ask a question about my sister so he can leave me to my embarrassment. While I’m waiting for him to answer I can see his brothers behind him trying to act like they aren’t watching, but they most definitely are. I try to catch the chuckle before it escapes but I fail. The look on their faces when they realise I see them watching is priceless.

“ I just came to see how you are after our conversation the other day, and to extend an invitation: he says as calmly as ever, making me believe he didn’t read any further into my book.

“I’m fine I suppose, and an invitation? To what?” I am confused. What could he possibly invite me too of all people.

“I’m glad you are well Elskan, and my family and I would like to invite you to a ball we are hosting” he says while handing me a card with all the details of said ball on it.

“ your family?” I say confused why his family would be inviting me after what I said about their mother.

“My brothers and I wish for you to join us, think about it Elskan” he says walking off before I can even respond.

His brothers and him wish for me to join them at the ball? Last I knew Klaus had a thing for Caroline. She was always complaining about his gifts and drawings he left for her, but then she displayed them in her room. Most of the time I just wish she’d make up her mind and stop stringing him along. I would have thought Klaus would ask Caroline. Perhaps he is still planning on it and they just want me there to find out what I know about their mother. For some reason the thought of Klaus still asking Caroline to the ball hurts. I try to ignore it, it’s not my place to feel hurt by it. 

As I’m getting ready to leave the Grill I can see Damon looking at me. He looks pissed, like he wants to kill me. I never know what I’ve done wrong with him, he always finds any way to be angry at me for something.

[anotherjheastan]

This Will Be Our Year - A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

CW: suggestive

Chapter 12 | Chapter List

Epilogue: Love You a Little Bit

March 11, 2025 

Rhea glanced at Jey. He was driving them to Dave and Buster’s for a day date. They liked to go as soon as they opened because no one was there. They could hog their favorite machines. And today would be a great way to blow off steam before they headed out for the European tour.

She reached out and touched his hair. He was growing it out a little, getting back into crash out mode. She was considering crashing out herself. She had lost her title to Iyo and Bianca was calling her childish and crazy for being mad at her for cheering on Iyo. Rhea had just wanted her dream WrestleMania match. And now it was gone. She wasn’t sure if she would participate in any matches at WrestleMania. But she would be there to cheer on Jey.

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, glancing at her. She smiled and pushed all her negative thoughts out of her mind. The past five months have been overall wonderful. Of course, they had their ups and downs, but they had worked through them.

January 27, 2025

During rehearsal, Naomi came and got Rhea before her call time. 

“Yeah, they need you now. Come on,” Naomi said.

Rhea sighed and put down her colored pencils. She closed her coloring book and walked out with Naomi. They ran into Bianca in gorilla. She waved, looking extra excited. Rhea smiled and waved back even though she had seen her earlier. 

She walked down the ramp and looked around the empty arena. She got into the ring and was surprised to see a heart. 

“Are those rose petals?” she asked. She stood in the middle of the heart and picked up a note. She unfolded it. 

“Look up?” she read, turning the statement into a question. 

She looked up and gasped. Jey was in the audience, close to the ring. He was holding up a sign that said, “Will You Be My Valentine?” in red letters. 

She laughed. “Yes, of course.”

He looked like he bent down to get something. He put the sign down and hopped over the barrier. He made his way into the ring with a gift bag. It was black and had an anatomical heart on the outside. 

She hugged and kissed him. 

“I have one more question to ask you,” he said. The serious tone in his voice unsettled her a little.

“What is it?” she asked, holding her hands tightly. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?” 

Rhea smiled, relieved. “Yes.” 

She heard screams erupt from down the ramp and saw Naomi and Bianca cheering. She laughed. Jey shook his head at them. 

“Here, I got you something,” he said, handing her the bag. 

“Ooo a girlfriend gift?” Rhea said, taking it and reaching into the bag. 

“Oh wow, Jey,” she said, her voice full of awe. She pulled out a charm bracelet with some of her favorite horror movie characters. 

She slipped on the bracelet. She had joked saying she’d only wear a charm bracelet if she could get horror charms on them, not even believing that was a thing. He had asked her what kind of jewelry she liked some time after her birthday. 

“Thank you, babe,” Rhea said, gently grabbing his face and kissing him. “I can’t believe you remembered that.” 

Jey smiled and shrugged. “No big deal. I got you something you’d like.” 

“False. Big deal. Huge deal!” 

She hugged him tightly. He squeezed her back and kissed her forehead. 

“Alright lovebirds,” Naomi said. “We’ve gotta clean this up now.”

“Yeah, time’s up,” Bianca said. 

Rhea looked over them as they climbed into the ring. 

“No, you guys don’t have to do that,” Rhea said. 

“It’s okay. We wanna help,” Naomi said. 

“Thanks y’all,” Jey said. “Come on, boo.”

“Aww boo!” Naomi gushed. 

“Ugh they’re so cute,” Bianca said. 

Rhea blushed and followed Jey out of the ring. 

On February 1st, she made a video titled “POV when your boyfriend wins the Royal Rumble.”  Kayden had recorded her reaction. And it was the first public mention of them being together. She had to turn her phone off. 

Valentine’s Day weekend had been fun…even if it did include a late night delivery of Plan B.

And March didn’t have a great start. Jey’s confidence about beating Gunther at Mania was floundering; especially with Gunther jumping him every week. And Rhea had been his rock, but losing her title to Iyo was a dropkick to her confidence. But they still managed to lean on each other. Jey suggested they go to a rage room. It was more fun than either of them could have imagined. They worked out together more often and pushed each other, reminding themselves that they would both be holding gold soon.

Jey parked at Dave and Buster’s and leaned over for a kiss. She kissed him, touching his face. He started to rub noses with her and she pulled away, gagging. He laughed and they got out of the car. They walked hand in hand. Jey checked their cards when they got inside and they went straight to their favorite game: The Walking Dead.

They bounced all around the arcade for a few hours. Jey used his points to get Rhea a plush Jack Skellington and Rhea got him a ukulele.  

“Don’t be mad when I learn to play this forreal,” he said, strumming on it. 

Rhea smiled and shook her head. She watched him as they sat down to eat. He had opened the menu and glanced at it, strumming his ukulele. A warm feeling settled in her chest. She smiled. She had gotten this feeling a few times, just watching him be himself around her. She wasn’t sure if it was comfort or affection…

He looked at her, their eyes meeting. She felt her heart skip a beat. 

Or love. Maybe it was love. 

“Why you watching me?” Jey asked, smiling. 

“I’m just so impressed with your ukulele skills,” Rhea said, enthusiasm laced with sarcasm.

Jey burst out laughing and Rhea joined him. And as their laughter died down and they redirected their attention back to the menus, Rhea actually looking this time, she felt that warm feeling again. She looked up and met his eyes. He winked at her and smiled. 

Yeah, now she was sure. That feeling was love.

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