#i’ve had tics in the past

[ikkan]

me @ me: can we uhhh never do that again????

[dollgxtz]

I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!

But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️

Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰

Edge Of Control

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end

AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!

It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.

Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.

Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.

You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.

That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.

You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.

Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.

You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.

The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.

Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.

“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.

You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.

“The one where I use you.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.

One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Yes.”

“Is the wine good, darling?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?

Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.

You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.

How had he gotten in without you noticing?

You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?

The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.

The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.

In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.

Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.

But you knew better.

He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.

Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.

But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.

Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.

Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.

Couldn’t look away.

And you almost didn’t want to.

You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.

Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.

“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”

Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.

He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.

His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.

His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.

Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.

"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…

His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.

The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 

“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.

You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.

Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.

His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.

Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.

Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.

You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.

His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.

His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.

Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.

You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.

Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.

Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.

With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.

The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.

Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 

“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.

 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.

Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 

He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.

“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 

“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 

“What?” 

“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 

You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?

You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 

“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?

He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 

“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 

“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 

“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 

“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.

You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.

“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 

You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Start crawling,” he suggests. 

You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 

You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.

“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.

“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 

With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.

"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.

The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.

Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.

You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.

For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.

He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.

“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 

It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 

“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 

Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 

“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"

Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 

“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 

“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 

“Please fuck me.” 

He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 

He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 

“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.

He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.

“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.

“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.

He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.

"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."

You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.

“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 

Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.

“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 

And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 

He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 

“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 

“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 

“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 

He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 

“Are you okay...?” 

“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 

Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.

When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.

When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.

“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.

Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.

He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.

You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

[thediaryofaurora]

General HCs

Ticci Toby/Tobias Rogers

Sorry this took so long!! I’ve been contemplating writing one shots, but I feel like I should get the head canons out first. If any of you have any ideas for one shots (x readers, char x char, nsfw), my request box is open! I’ll get around to them as soon as possible. :)

- 5’11! Sleeper build and scrawny, but extremely strong upper arms. He’s not as fast as Kate and Brian, but he makes up for it with how long he can run. He never gets tired and can chase victims for hours. Lots of freckles, too!

- White with mostly German heritage. He doesn’t know very much German, just baseline stuff he learned from his mom. (Connie grew up in Germany until she was 15.)

- Medium brown hair and dark brown eyes. He’s pretty pale, but being outside most of the time he does have a slight tan, lots of freckles too.

- His dad was extremely abusive and would beat him, his mom, and his sister, it was rare for him to not be drunk. Toby killed him only a few hours after his father beat his mom to the point she was unconscious. He’d rather his mom lose both of her children and her abusive husband than endure so much pain, he cared about her more than anything. He didn’t want to sit idly by as he loses his sister and mother.

- His fingers are TORN up. Bites and picks at his nails, cuticles, dry knuckles, all of it. His fingertips and palms are also super calloused.

- Hangs out with Jeff and Ben most of the time. He’s closer to Ben and thinks Jeff’s a douche, but he puts up with him since sometimes the three of them have fun.

- He can be a jerk, but if you’re able to break past his shell he’s super sweet. He’s still sarcastic and snarky, but not necessarily mean. VERY smug.

- Had Jeff do a tattoo of Lyra’s birthday on his shoulder. It turned out surprisingly good. He was originally going to do her death date, but he felt like it was better to honor the time she was alive.

- Halloween junkie. He has a massive sweet tooth and loves autumn, so it’s the perfect day ever in his eyes.

- This guy DESTROYS in poker and blackjack. The few times his dad would spend time with him they’d play together. Even though he hated him, it meant a lot to him when he was little. Has the teeny tiniest gambling addiction, makes a bunch of bets with other residents of the mansion and usually wins.

- MIDWESTERN EMO BOY!!!! I will die on this hill. Music taste, clothing, all of it.

- His tics are pretty rare now that he’s older, but when he’s anxious they get bad.

- Exclusively wears comfortable clothes. Not because he gets uncomfortable, he could (and does) sleep in jeans and not be bothered. When he was younger he would always be forced to wear slacks, dress shoes, button ups, and ties for church or family gatherings. He HATED it.

- Him, Tim, and Brian are usually put on missions together. They’re all pretty compatible, and it’s nice to talk to just some regular ass dudes. Sometimes all three of them will go to run down diner’s if they finished their mission early, it’s the most normality any of them have in their lives.

- He and Tim bicker a LOT, but he secretly find comfort in it. He sees Tim as a protective older brother, rather than someone who just hates him. With how his dad treated him growing up, he thought all arguing was yelling and being aggressive, but Tim’s is more disagreement or annoyance.

- Almost knows how to play the acoustic guitar. He’s a quick learner, but he doesn’t have a crazy strong desire to get better at it.

- Pretty much always wears a big bandaid over his cheek gash. He’s not necessarily insecure about it unless he has a crush on someone, but it’s hard to eat or drink when it’s just open.

- He’s actually not to bad at soccer! Sometimes when it’s nice out him and Cody find a ball and play.

- Anywho, I’m in love with him.

Feedback and requests are welcome! Thank you for reading. :)

✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

[tryingtofindava]

pls im begging for dating ticci toby headcanons 🙏🙏

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ‘𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢’ 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

tw: mention of manic episode.

: ̗̀➛ Back to source

My god.

This boy is full of so much love.

Y’all take FOREVER to actually get together.

It got to the point where Toby got frustrated and was all like “should I just kill them?” (Assuming you ain’t a proxy)

What I’m tryna say is he’s sorta oblivious to his feelings towards you.

But he’s so scared to get attached to you, cuz every time he’s ever gotten close to someone they die.

But when y’all (finally) get together after a long ahh slow burn.

YOU TWO ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST OMD.

He was so surprised that you said yes when he asked you out. Like- you? The pretty girl who he had the the pleasure of becoming friends with???? Says yes to him????

He’s so happy

Buttttttttttttttt.

So awkward it’s almost painful.

Onetime you kissed him on his cheek, bro was all like ‘🧍’

But when you guys get past that awkward stage? You guys are practically attached to the hip.

And I know most of the fandom hates the ‘soft Toby’ stereotype, but I feel like that’s just how he is w you (though he does have his moments…)

Lots of reassurance. It’s needed if y’all wanna last.

He isn’t used to have someone be so affectionate towards him. Since deadass the only person who’s showed him genuine love was Lyra.

When y’all first met, he’d always wear a massive ass bandage over the gash on his cheek.

Every time you saw it you gave him the ‘🤨’ look, which he’s just shrug it off. And when you’d ask him about it, he’d say something like:

“It’s ruh-rude to ask t-that.”

He’d even continue wearing it INTO your dating life, he’ll eventually cave in since it’s been around 8 months of him wearing it around you. And a wound would normally be healed by now.

He wasn’t at all surprised by your reaction of shock.

He’ll always have it on out of the apartment though. No exceptions.

He calls you ‘pretty thing’ sm it becomes a tic.

Eskimo kisses? Eskimo kisses.

He try’s his best to keep the whole murder part of his life away from you. But it’s obvious so… that was one long night of going over things.

Anywaysssss.

AQUARIUM DATES! Y’all get in your grandpa jumpers and walk around the aquarium holding hands and looking at all the cool fish n’ shit.

HE LOVES LOVES LOVES NECK KISSES.

He’s a slut for knowing he’s yours.

He loves teasing the shit outta you for being short. Even though he’s like 3 inches taller

“I’ve been b-breaking my buh-back k-k-kissing you, babe.”

“Piss off.”

He loves laying between your legs with his face flushed against your chest while you run your fingers through his hair and itch his scalp.

When you guys are sleeping, you’ll constantly have to make sure he doesn’t get too over headed or cold due to his CIPA.

Speaking of sleeping, he grinds his teeth while he’s dreaming. So just gently grab his chin to stop him. And he’s a deep ass sleeper so he won’t feel it lol.

He isn’t a big fan of PDA when you guys aren’t behind closed doors, but he’ll ALWAYS hold your hand.

On the less sappy note, when he’s having a tic attack he will not allow you to come near him. He’s so scared of hurting you.

And when he’s having an episode?

Make sure you stay calm. And maybe get to him before he gets to you. He’ll be so upset if he did hurt you while going through one of his schizophrenic like states.

To help him through his manic episode, stay as calm as you can, let him know that, although you don’t share the belief that it’s real, you understand that it is real to him. Try and keep focused on supporting him with how he’s feeling in that moment, rather than confirming or challenging his reality.

If he does snap at you, he’ll feel so guilty. He will think that he’s just like his dad.

He’ll probably disappear for a few days, but when he comes back he’s begging for you to not leave him. Like he’s full on sobbing.

Hold him.

He’s clingy. Like super clingy. Clingy to the point where it just becomes obnoxious. And gets a bit irritating but he means well :(

He loves you like a dog, and he’ll do anything for you. He trusts you with his whole being and hopes you feel the same.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Just curious in the prison AU how did the character yk react when being arrested? I’ve seen a few videos and some people like yk resist arrest or like make it difficult for the cops to load them into the car and others just kinda let it happen? I’m just curious on how much of a struggle did the cops have when trying to arrest the proxy’s/pastas

THIS MAY INCLUDE SPOILERS FOR FUTURE PARTD OF THE PRISON AU, IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE, SCROLL PAST.

I like to think the proxies got raided, so I'm going to take some inspo from my Insane Asylum AU

Maybe Toby left a piece of evidence that led the cops right to them. For this mission, the Proxies were staying in a motel. It was the middle of the night, Toby's watching lord knows what, Hoodie's looking at some photographs he took of the victims, and Masky's smoking outside. But, as Masky's smoking, he sees bunch of cop cars in the distance. He'd run inside and tell them that they gotta leave now.

However, they got caught. Hoodie would probably be the most willing. Hoodie's the most logical of the group and he knows damn well that he isn't going to get away unless they all have a plan. He'd have the most annoyed look on his face but he wouldn't do anything.

Toby almost gotta away. Toby's had so many run ins with the cops, starting back when he was a late teenager. He would've gotten away to if his tics didn't start to act up like crazy. He'd be screaming, maybe bite a cop or two, they wouldn't definitely put a muzzle on him because he'd been sent to jail before, as mentioned in Part 1.

Masky is similar to Hoodie where he's more so annoyed then anything. But, I can see him being extremely paranoid about what the Operator and Slenderman are going to react, not even Kate has gotten caught and she works alone. He'd curse out the cops, but during the car ride, he'd be mumbling to himself, and maybe even have a panic attack.

Now to everyone else!

Ben, Jeff, and EJ were also caught together. They were all hanging out in a cabin where Jeff killing the current residents. However, Jeff had left a piece of evidence at one of his old crime scenes that led the cops to them.

EJ was dissecting one of the people Jeff killed with Ben looming over him, smoking a blunt while asking him hundreds of questions. Jeff would come over and now all of them are looming over this dead guy's body, his stomach cut open with his kidneys ripped out.

I just wanna note that these guys were the hardest to find because they're not always together, EJ eats the evidence, Ben's killings rarely leave a mark on the real world, and Jeff is good at what he does.

When the door got kicked in, the cops stared at the three in horror.

Since Ben was high as hell, he'd start laughing while saying they were fucked. Might I add, if Ben wasn't high, the three of them deadass could've escaped no problem because the cabin had a TV.

Ben was caught first and he'd be laughing, yelling "Fuck the police" while spitting on the floor. The most unserious motherfucker.

EJ killed a good chunk of the cops, but then his hunger kicked in. He ended up eating a cop, but he was able to get knocked out because of it.

Jeff got carried away and got knocked out as well.

Liu's arrest was actually recorded on live TV.

After going on a minor killing spree in a city he was in, he was seen in the background of some guy's livestream.

Liu's identity was roughly unknown by the police, and they had a few sketches of what he might look like, and unfortunately for him, they had one that was really close.

When Liu realized he was being followed by a helicopter and a few police cars, he booked it. The entire chase was live, and in broad daylight too.

He ended up cornering himself after he ran into an abandoned building. When he realized he was caught, he just sat down and waited for the cops to catch up.

When the cops walked in, they saw him sitting on top of a crate, his head facing the floor as he spinned a knife in his hand, humming a lullaby to pass the time. Tbh with you, he let himself get caught. When Jeff found out, he was so fucking pissed off. When he saw him enter the inmates ward, he yelled and playfully hit him for 30 minutes straight, Liu couldn't care less tho.

[supernovafics]

your first shift at scoops ahoy with steve harrington

wc: 1.1k words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you didn’t know if you’d ever get used to the uniform. the blue and white sailor outfit made you feel like you were seven years old and being forced to be a part of a nautical family photoshoot. 

“you’re new, right?”

you stopped adjusting your hat— the final part of the uniform that only made you feel even more ridiculous— and looked at the guy that had just walked into the break room.  

“hi, yeah,” you said with a small smile. “you’re steve?”

when he nodded and said a quick “yeah,” you nodded back and then told him your name. 

you had expected to work your first real shift with robin. she had been the one training you for the past few days and although she had mentioned that there was another person that worked here, you never saw him so you started wondering if you ever would. 

steve simply looked at you for a bit, which reminded you of what you were wearing and you quickly felt ridiculous all over again. your hands went back up to your hat, which had a way too enthusiastic looking “ahoy” written across it, and started adjusting it. “will this uniform ever eventually not feel stupid to wear?”

steve was quick to shake his head. “no, but i’ve ditched the hat and it makes it feel a little less stupid.”

you immediately took yours off your head and left it on the table. “say no more.” 

it was slow in the morning, which made sense because who really wanted to have ice cream for breakfast? therefore, to help pass the time you suggested that you two play rock, paper, scissors. and when you both got bored of that, steve grabbed a napkin and a pen from behind the counter and the two of you started playing tic-tac-toe, and then moved onto hangman. the childish games you two played were just that, childish and a bit mindless, but they helped make the first handful of hours of the shift go by fast. 

it was when noon rolled around that things finally started to pick up and it almost became too much— the line full of overzealous kids that already seemed as if they had too much ice cream and the handful of people that you recognized from school; and of course, they were the people that you really didn’t want to see. 

you quickly found yourself starting to long for the quiet mundanity that the morning part of the shift brought. 

“you wanna take your break?” steve asked. you had just finished dealing with a middle aged man who sampled pretty much every flavor of ice cream you had and then proceeded to buy nothing. perhaps the most annoying ten minutes of your life.

“yes. please. thank you. you’re the best,” your words came out rushed as you quickly started making your way toward the small break room. 

it was nice to have somewhat of a breather for a bit. you hummed along to a random song that was playing on repeat in your head as you ate the sandwich that you brought from home because you refused to spend money in the food court— money you didn’t have, hence why you got a job in the first place. 

“you’re lucky,” steve said when you came back thirty minutes later, once again standing behind the counter with him. “you just missed the horde of moms that just finished their aerobics class and wanted to “treat themselves.””

you were grateful that you missed that rush. 

“if you want, you can go on your break now. i’ll handle the next swarm of kids or moms that show up,” you told him and he nodded at that before heading to the break room.

things actually didn’t become too insane when steve left. 

a group of kids walked up, but before you could ask them what they would like to get, one that had a “camp know where” hat on said, “hi, we’re friends of steve’s. is he here?”

it slightly confused you that steve would be friends with a group of kids who didn’t look like they were even in high school yet. but ultimately, you didn’t question it and instead shook your head at the kid’s question. “he’s on break right now, but he should be out in a few minutes.” 

“how many girls has he flirted with today?” the red-headed girl asked you. 

a confused look crossed your face. “um, none… is that something that usually happens?” 

she laughed a bit at your question. “uh, literally always.”

“oh, shit, he must like you,” the boy, who had been previously holding hands with the red-headed girl, told you. 

it was way too hard to hold back your laugh at that. “i just met him today.” 

the boy with the camp hat was the one to speak. “oh, trust us, that’s more than enough time for steve.”

before you could say anything in response to that, steve emerged from the break room. he talked to the kids for a bit before letting them go through the back so that they could sneak into a movie. 

“what embarrassing things about me did they say to you?” he asked when he returned next to you. 

you held back your laugh as you answered him. “according to them, you like me.” 

his eyes widened a bit and the redness that rose to his cheeks was almost immediate; just for a moment you thought that maybe there was actually some truth behind the kids’ words. 

he then let out a loud sigh. “i’m never letting them come here again.”  

the next few hours actually breezed by, with random rushes here and there but nothing too overwhelming, and before you knew it your first official day at scoops ahoy was done. 

you and steve cleaned up everything— wiping down tables, refilling napkin dispensers, etc.— and then started heading to the parking lot. somehow the emptiness of the mall felt weirdly calming.

“where are you parked?” you asked when the two of you exited the mall, immediately getting hit by the cool summer air.

steve gestured to the left side of the parking lot. “over there.”

“i’m this way,” you said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“oh, okay,” he said with a small nod. he then leaned in for what you thought would be a hug, but then he seemed to change his mind last second and instead held out his hand for you to shake, which you did after a brief second of hesitation and confusion. the entire chain of events felt insanely awkward, but you also couldn’t help but find it all a little funny. 

“so, um, i’ll… see you later,” steve said, his voice was softer and it sounded a little unsure. 

you smiled at him and his sudden nervousness right then. “yeah, see you later, steve.”

[automaticmercy]

Anyways something I’ve been musing for a while is ES Megatron being accidentally extremely charming. When he’s not his usual angry, tyrannical self, he’s so well spoken, and as of recent he’s been trying harder to be nicer, more patient, with the ones around him.

He’s even learning to be nice ! It’s a start.

It’s a rough idea where the former Decepticon prisoners and the Autobots call a temporary truce , and room together at the former Ghost headquarters - cue ridiculous harem-trope scenes ofc ofc.

Megatron , completely by accident , feeding into exactly what everyone needs - whether they know they need it or not.

Shockwave who is struggling with his feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty in, well, everything, vs Megatron who has been practicing giving out praise where it’s due.

“You made this? It’s brilliant, Shockwave.”

And Megatron doesn’t say it in that sappy, kiss-up tone, he means it when he says it , and Shockwave just kind of. Stares at him. Expressionless as he is , you wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance , but he is just SO pleased. And confused. He tries to ignore it and push the feelings down, but Megatron just /keeps/ complimenting him and praising him + Shockwave just slowly getting used to it and even seeking out his praise. Megatron is the first to see any new scientific discoveries he makes , and showers him with well earned praise. All the while Megatron just thinks he’s making up for old wounds, and being a good friend, meanwhile Shockwave is experiencing what the organics call ‘butterflies’ in his midsection.

Soundwave , all bitter and angry and doing his best to be detached vs Megatron who’s very patient and attentive etc. One time , Soundwave couldn’t find Ravage. He looked all over HQ and she was still nowhere to be found. Only for Megatron to appear with her in tow, explaining they were both eager to stretch their legs , and had gone for a walk. Soundwave who only glares and walks away with Ravage, not even sparing a word to his former leader.

But Megatron doesn’t take this as a deliberate insult - Soundwave has always been a less-than-talkative mech anyway. Anyways, he keeps going for walks with Ravage , and sometimes even Frenzy and Laserbeak join them . Soundwave who gets all possessive because who the hell is Megatron to be attending to /his/ cassette’s needs ?

Soundwave eventually joining them on their walks and finding he actually really enjoys them. For the first two outings, none of them say a word. The third time though, Megatron is the first to break the silence, and eventually Soundwave warms up to one word responses. Megatron, who is thrilled to have his former TIC talking to him again, begins to talk… a lot. And Soundwave just listens. Sometimes even offering up not one, not two, but three word responses ! Eventually their outings become a routine, and at some point, the little cassettes stop attending and it’s just Megatron and Soundwave, walking along a cement path as the sun sets in the distance. Megatron making some half-thought out comment that Soundwave is a lot like the moon, gleaming and silent - its usefulness and beauty often underappreciated. Etc. and Megatron spewing out an apology for underappreciating Soundwave in the past - being all sincere and genuinely sympathetic. Though, most of his words are unheard, seeing as Soundwave is short circuiting because Megatron just insinuated that he was beautiful.

And Starscream, too, will fall victim to these silly harem tropes. I’ve been thinking he takes way longer to even look Megatron in the optics - watching from afar as he ‘shamelessly flirts’ with the rest of the former Decepticons , insisting that he himself won’t fall for such obvious tricks and lies.

Anyways, Starscream who still gets all nervous in Megatron’s presence, though he swallows this all down and hides it with his impressive anger. Vs Megatron who just sighs and relents, keen to leave the little seeker to his lonesome etc. lest he invoke his wrath and ruin what little semblance of peace they harbored

Hashtag, just wanting to help ofc ofc , keeps setting up moments for Megatron and Starscream to meet ‘accidentally’. She’d seen it in a movie , when two friends are fighting and yet keep accidentally meeting, eventually learning to their reconciliation.

It doesn’t end so well the first few times, ofc, but they’re slowly getting somewhere!

One of the times, they end up in an elevator alone, and Starscream is glaring holes into the floor buttons. Hashtag had synced into the HQ’s WiFi and activated every button. Damn this place for having so many floors.

“So…” Megatron begins and Starscream holds up his servo in a ‘stop’ motion. Telling him not to even start. That he wont fall victim to his lies too, that he isn’t as much a fool as everyone else is.

“They may believe you’ve changed, but I know you - I know you haven’t changed a single thing, besides the insignia you bear.” And Megatron just stands there stupidly for a while, mulling over a thousand responses. His first instinct is to argue and defend himself but Starscream clearly doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to listen to that. When the elevator dings it’s on the second to last stop, Megatron sighs. “I’m sorry, Starscream.”

It’s a shitty apology, yeah, but it’s a start. “Save it.” Starscream would snap , and as soon as the doors slid open, he’d storm out of the elevator.

And from that moment on , every time Megatron runs into Starscream, he already has a speech of an apology ready. Starscream, at first, just gets angrier and angrier every time he hears that pathetic word drip from his former leader’s vocalizer. As if ‘sorry’ would fix anything !

But eventually , ofc , it starts to work. Starscream who lingers just long enough to hear the end of Megatron’s speech of atonement, but leaves without a word.

Around the fifth apology though, Starscream asks “how many times are you going to try and trick me with this ‘apology’?” And grumbles something about never, ever forgiving Megatron. That no mere apology would ever atone for everything. And Megatron just hums. “I dont seek your forgiveness, Starscream. I will apologize as many times as you like, for the rest of my life cycle if you’d like, and you dont ever have to forgive me even a little bit.”

Starscream just cant understand why his former leader would sink so low, this was a humiliating performance, and yet… it was charming in its own way.

Anyways, I have not fully fleshed it out but some stupid, cheesy scene where Starscream trips and falls next to Megatron but before he can kiss the floor with his pretty face, Megatron catches him - by the waist. And when he resettles Starscream on his pedes, his touch lingers, and Starscream's processor seems to fizzle out of coherency.

Agh, big, dumb, charming Megatron is my weakness I tell you. I want nice Earth spark Megatron. Someday, I'll get around to writing this hehe.

[literaryavenger]

Broken - part 2

Summary: You reach your breaking point and confront the team.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Hints to eating disorder. Language. Tony being an insensitive ass. Reader being very dramatic. A lot of yelling. Talk about Bucky's past and Tony's parent's murder. Innocent and broken Bucky. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.6K

Part 1

A/N: reader is absolutely dramatic in this and I love it. I can't say enough that this is my first work (second chapter, but still), I don't really know what I'm doing, but I'm trying. Also English is not my first language so pardon me for mistakes, I'm really trying not to be too repetitive in my writing and expand my vocabulary and just generally do better. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

After a morning of hanging out with Cassie and Scott, Cassie’s mom, Maggie, came to pick her up.

You chatted for a few minutes while Scott and Cassie gathered her stuff and, after you said your goodbye, they took off. 

"Thanks for inviting me to hang out with you guys, Cassie’s such an amazing kid." you say to Scott with a smile while you get in the elevator to the communal floor for lunch with the whole team.

"No need to thank me. Cassie loves you so much, you’re always welcome to join us." He says back as the elevator dings and you get off.

You smile at him and look around to see most of the team already at the table wrapped up in their own conversations.

You don’t have “assigned” seats, but Tony sits at the head of the table on the only side that has only one seat, while the other side has two.

It’s very important for Tony to have this seat as he thinks of himself as the head of your family, even if he doesn’t want to be the team leader.

The rest of you gather around him, usually next to the same people that you enjoy having conversations with.

Today Vision was sitting on Tony’s left side with Wanda next to him, then Pietro, whose other side was empty so Scott sat there.

On Tony’s right was Peter, then Nat and Clint, you sat on the far end leaving a seat empty between you and Clint on your left, and the two seats on the head of the table on your right, also empty, with Scott in front of you.

There are gonna be a few empty seats because Thor, Loki and Bruce were currently in New Asgard.

After a few minutes of conversation with Scott, which mostly consists on trying to come up with your next prank, Sam, Steve and Bucky join you, Sam sitting between you and Clint, Steve on your right at the head of the table with Bucky between Steve and Scott.

You notice Bucky briefly looking at Tony on the other end of the table before bowing his head and staring at the table without saying anything, while Tony stares daggers at Bucky, stopping as soon as he sees you looking.

You think it's weird, but then again you know Tony and Bucky had problems so you let it go.

"Hi, baby." Sam says to you when he sits down, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, Sammy." you say chuckling "how you doing?"

"Very good now." he says, putting his arm around you and making you laugh again. "Where have you been all day, I’ve missed you baby."

"I’ve been staying as far away from you as I could, baby." you say jokingly, to which he makes a pretend hurt face with a big gasp that makes both you and Steve laugh. "I was hanging out with my girls."

"But Nat was training and Wanda was hanging out with Vision." Steve points out, a little confused.

"Yeah, she means Tic tac and his daughter." Sam explains while you, him and Scott laugh.

Steve then join in on your laughter and you keep joking until Wanda uses her powers to put the plates full of food on the table, with some help from Vision.

As the lunch went on you all kind of talk to everybody, joking about stupid things mostly you and Scott have done lately.

You notice Bucky is quietly eating, not joining in in any conversations and keeping his eyes on his food.

Nobody is trying to talk to him either and you're about to when you feel Steve nudging you on the arm with his elbow.

you look at him and see him look from you to your plate a couple times.

You give him a small smile and a nod and you eat a couple of bites of your food before he lets himself concentrate on the conversation once more, but not before exchanging a bit of a worried and knowing look with Wanda, which you chose to ignore because you don't want to have that conversation right now.

You bring your attention back to Bucky "So, Bucky, what did you and Cap do after I left this morning?"

As soon as you ask the question the whole table goes quiet. You look around the room and everyone is looking weirdly from you to Steve to Bucky, which confuses you a lot.

You looked back at Bucky, who is about to answer but, after giving Tony a quick glance, he shuts his mouth, deciding against it.

You look at Tony who is giving Bucky a look that if it could kill, it definitely would.

At this point you're pretty fed up with this unspoken tension and, since nobody is saying anything, you decide to address the issue yourself.

"Okay, enough is enough." you say, getting everybody’s attention on you but keeping yours on Tony and Bucky "Will somebody explain to me what the fuck is going on?"

"Language!"

"Stick a sock in it, Rogers. I’m sick of this. I’ve been patient for three fucking months. I’m done with this. You have been treating me with child gloves and it ends now. First you all just disappear for a mission leaving only me behind, then half of you come back and nobody tells me anything about everyone else and when the rest of the team came back, all of you started acting like nothing even happened, barely acknowledging Steve’s absence unless I asked, and even then you just danced around my questions. Now he’s back with someone new and not only are you all still acting like nothing happened, but all of you are being extremely rude and deliberately ignoring the poor guy!"

You point at Bucky, who turns red at the attention and looks uncomfortable, but you go on. "AND Tony hasn’t stopped looking at him like he wants to murder him where he stands! Now, somebody tell me what the fuck happened then and what has been happening for the last three months."

you look at Tony who looks like he was about to explode, but doesn't say anything.

Bucky looks uncomfortable and like he's trying very hard not to look at you.

Steve looks at you with an apologetic face and you know he's not about to tell you anything.

You look around at everyone else and they all look either shocked at your little outburst or guilty because they know you're right.

Most of them avoid your gaze and the ones that are looking at you are silently asking you to let it go.

After a few minutes of no one saying anything, you lose the last chill you had.

"FINE!" you yell, getting up and slamming your hand on the table, startling almost everybody after the uncomfortable silence you’d been sitting in.

"If you’re gonna insist on treating me like a fucking child, keeping me out of these serious business, trusting a literal child more than me," you said pointing at Peter "then maybe I should start behaving like one. Or no, you know what, better yet, since none of you trust me anyway, I should just quit this fucking team and move out!"

Without giving anyone the chance to answer you storm off towards the stairs, going straight to the smallest training room to try and calm down a little, since it’s the one no one ever uses and no one’s gonna think of looking for you there.

You get on the treadmill and started running, not stopping until you see the light from outside dim and the gym lights turn on.

You turn the machine off and as soon as you stop you feel so dizzy that you almost fall over and have to hold on to the handles of the treadmill just to keep your balance.

After a few minutes you catch your breath, then stumble towards the punching bag and start throwing punches as hard as you can, still so angry that you don't even think about wrapping your hands.

After about half an hour of angry punching your knuckles are bleeding, but you only stop when your head starts spinning and you slip on the floor out of breath while you start seeing black spots.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and when you look up you see Bucky with a very worried look on his face.

He's saying something to you but his voice is so distant you could barely hear him. You look at him confused for a second before feeling yourself slipping away and then everything goes black.

You wake up to confused yelling and your head pounding, and it takes you a second to even realize where you are. You try to sit up but have an IV on your arm that stops you.

You look around the room confused, finding the source of all the noise: Tony is very intently yelling at Bucky who's just looking at his feet, his face covered by his long hair, while Steve is trying very hard to keep Tony away from Bucky while also yelling at him to calm down.

"Let go of me Rogers, it’s HIS fault she’s here!" Tony yells "and it’s your fault he’s here in the first place!"

"Tony, you don’t know what happened, you can’t just accuse Bucky everytime something happens!" Steve yells back, struggling to keep him away from Bucky.

"LOOK AT THEM! THEY’RE BOTH COVERED IN BLOOD AND HE WAS THE ONLY ONE TO SEE HER ALL AFTERNOON, WHAT ELSE DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?!" At this point you're sick of the screaming and especially of the random accusations against Bucky.

"Can you stop yelling for fuck’s sakes?" you say, even if it comes out lower and weaker than you’d like.

The three men all look at you, a little surprised and worried sick.

"Y/N! Are you ok? What did he do to you?" Tony says, getting angrier with every word, while you're just confused by his accusations.

"What are you talking about, Tony? Nobody did anything to me, I just passed out."

"You don’t have to cover for that murderer, just tell me what really happened!" murderer? What is he talking about?

You can tell he was trying not to yell too much at you since you're not the object of his anger, but his insults and his insinuating that you're lying are making you angry, a feeling that just grows when you see all the guilt and hurt in Bucky’s face at his words, which just breaks your heart.

"You want to know what happened, Stark?" you're the one yelling now "You, the whole team, pissed me off so much that I spent several hours running and hitting a punching bag so hard that I bled and then passed out from exhaustion and probably dehydration. And stop yelling at Bucky, if it wasn’t for him finding me and bringing me here I could’ve died in that gym, so you should be fucking thanking him!" you yell the last part so loudly that you think that's gonna be the end of that, but Tony has more to say.

"THANK HIM?!" he yells, his eyes open wide, almost in shock. "YOU THINK I SHOULD THANK THE MAN THAT MURDERED MY PARENTS?!" He yells so loudly that you're surprised he still had a voice to keep going.

But he did, a little quieter after seeing the shocked look on your face. "You have no idea who he is! Who he truly is… I know you love hearing stories about Steve and him in the 40s, but that’s not who he is now. It’s not who he’s been for the last 70 years!"

You're hanging on his every word, looking at Bucky’s general direction every now and then, scared to meet his eyes and have everything Tony was saying confirmed.

But that wasn’t a problem, since Bucky's back at looking at his feet, like a kid being yelled at by a parent for doing something wrong.

"He’s been under Hydra’s control all this time! He’s been taught how to be invisible, how to disappear and most importantly how to kill, in every way possible. He’s been killing people for decades, living as a ghost story, unstoppable and unbeatable. Three months ago Steve found him and set out to help him, and when half of us didn’t agree with him, we battled against each other. The half of the team that came back later had to spend some time on the Raft while we worked on their release. For Barnes it took longer, and Steve refused to leave his side. They were lucky enough to get them to release this monster, and if it was for me it never would’ve happened. So do not tell me to thank a murderer, a monster that broke my family in 1991 and almost broke it again a few months ago!"

You're shocked.

Not just because of Bucky’s past, but because of what happened three months ago.

Because of what everybody kept from you.

You feel absolutely betrayed by everybody. Everybody except Bucky, funnily enough. You're barely listening to what is being said.

You hear Steve’s "He was being mind controlled" and Tony’s "That’s all an excuse" but your attention is elsewhere.

You're looking at Bucky who is visibly trembling and, when he looks up at Steve for a few seconds because of something he says in his defense, you see his face clearly and it's wet with tears.

It absolutely breaks your heart and you make eye contact for a second before he quickly bows his head again and slowly backs away from the room, almost scared.

The two yelling men don’t even seem to notice the loss of a fourth person in the room and keep on yelling until they just keep repeating the same things, and you're done.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" you yell at the top of your lungs, leaving them instantly silent.

"I don’t care who you think he is. The man you seem to hate so much is absolutely nothing like the man that walked into the tower this morning. The man that’s been so scared to even just talk, that he keeps his head down and doesn’t make a sound unless spoken to. The man that saved my life today. The man that ran out of here is absolutely broken, and it’s 100% your fault!" you end, looking straight into Tony’s eyes.

"Y/N, Bucky’s-" Tony started, but you cut him off.

"Bucky is the only one in this tower to not have lied to me. All of you kept me in the dark on this." You're now looking at Steve. "You’re no better, Rogers. Half of the team, half of my family was in, not just any prison, but the fucking Raft, and none of you told me. Why? Why just me?" you almost whisper the question you’ve been wanting to ask for the last three months, tears flooding your eyes.

"We didn’t want to put that on you..." Steve says.

"We knew how hard it would’ve been for you to choose a side…" Tony adds.

"BULLSHIT!" you yell, startling them. "Do not give me this 'we did this for you' bullshit. You did this for yourselves, because neither of you wanted to see me choose the other one. But you know what? I don’t want to choose either of you. Now you both lost me. So I hope you’re happy, because you brought this on yourselves for lying to me for so long. I’m done!"

You get up, tears streaming down my cheeks, take the IV out of your arm and walk right out of the room while the two men watch you leave, too stunned to say anything.

Part 3

[monowritestoomuch]

YuuriVoice Characters Reacting To You Having A Tic Spasm/Tic Attack:

Notes: 

I wish there were VA’s doing tic attack comfort audios, but I can never find any :(

I lowkey forgot what Faust calls his listener so someone please let me know in comments or reblogs. Also made a masterlist!

I wrote this because I actually want decent representation for tics in the modern day but sadly Hollywood sucks so might as well do it myself, as someone with tics. This took a really long time! If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the comments or reblogs!

And if you’re bald, I formally apologize.

Also, I’ve been super busy with a cosplay so this would’ve been done sooner but I’ve been busy so sue me. If I mix tenses, I tried, okay? Enjoy this as my ability to write and post is about to go down the drain.

Alphonse🍬:

Tic Spasm & Large Scale Tic Attack

You were laying on your bed in the morning, having just woken up. You were groggy and stiff. That’s all you thought you were. Stiff.

Alphonse lay by your side, sleeping soundly. He seemed to be so peaceful while he slept, a gentle smile creeping onto your face as you looked at his beautiful own, bathed in the morning light. 

You try to sit up, which would have been easy. Simple and easy, if it was a normal morning. 

You feel your muscles convulse and stiffen, panic overcoming you. You fall back on your mattress, head hitting your pillow. You start to shake as your tics overcome your body, vision blurring. Your neck started to twitch and snap in multiple directions, as your back froze up, shaking. 

You felt movement beside you, and a hand on your bicep, shaking you lightly. You could slightly hear a voice, but your hearing was going in and out, eyes shaking side to side and up and down. 

Your vision hazed back in as you turned your head to face. . .your loving boyfriend, brows knitted with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Hey, hey, Boo,” he said softly, cradling your arm. “You can hear me now, right? Yeah, yeah?” To that, you nodded. 

“The ticking thing you told me about? Tourette's? Tic spasm, right?” he asked, lips downturned as you attempted to nod before your neck snapped in the other direction. “Okay, okay. I get it you can’t really talk right now, so just try and breathe, like you usually do,” he attempted to reassure. “Deep breaths, okay. Here, I’ll breathe with you, okay?” 

The two of you took deep breaths, yours much shakier than his own as your body slowly stopped ticcing and shaking. Once it stopped completely, he spoke up again. 

“You feelin’ better, Boo?” he asked, an empathetic expression on his face. “Can I hug you?” he asked after you nodded in response to the previous question. He wrapped you in his arms, his lips in your hair, kissing the top of your head as he cradled you.

Seth🐺:

Collapsing/Wooziness with tic attacks (Cuddle comforting)

It was a normal day at your house, unpacking some old boxes with Seth’s help, which you very much appreciated. The two of you had cleared out so many boxes within the past few hours and it was going smoothly. 

That was until you started to feel a little woozy.

You’d had a slight headache for an hour at that point, and because it was dull, you didn’t think much of it when it started, but it only became worse.

A chill crawled up your spine as you picked up the next cardboard box, Seth carrying two boxes to the opposite side of the room.

Your head was swimming and your back was tingling. Your chest felt heavy. You shakily set down the box, although the weight wasn’t heavy, you felt yourself shaking. You felt slightly lighter when you put it down, deciding to sit down on the floor, resting your head against the wall, the coolness feeling like heaven on your forehead. 

Your head was still spinning as Seth slowly walked over, kneeling in front of you and looking you in the eyes as you twitched, head spinning. You looked up to face him, a pained expression on your face, seeing a concerned expression on his. 

“You okay, Sugar?” he asked, concern etching his features. You nodded absentmindedly, humming in response. 

“‘m ‘bit dizzy,” you muttered dizzily. “-felt like collapsing.”

Seth nodded, still evidently concerned. “You want me to get you some water?” he asked. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. He kissed your brow, leaving the room briefly, before returning a few minutes later with a cup of ice water.

He held it in front of you, handing it to you, your hands shaking as you held the glass up to your lips. He held his hands under the glass, just in case you dropped it. “Sip slowly,” he ordered, not sounding like much of an order, but more of an educated ask. 

You drank the water in gulps, the coolness of it a pleasant relief on your headache and chest. 

You had but a moment to set down the glass before your body started shaking harder and you forced yourself to swallow the last gulp of water before you started twitching uncontrollably. 

Seth backed up a foot, deciding to give you some space, as he knew you hated to be cramped.

He held his hands in your own, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of your hands. You didn’t understand why, but it helped, your ticcing calming down, albeit only slightly. 

He sat next to you, you placing your head on his shoulder as your shaking continued, legs outstretched. 

Once the shaking slowed and your breathing returned to a semi-normal state, he started to rub your back slowly, pressing a kiss into your hair. His hands were big and warm, a feeling of calmness washing over you.

“You feel a bit better now, Sugar?” he asked, concern still evident in his face. 

“Yeah,” you responded, speech still slightly slurred. “Less dizzy.”

“Good,” he answered, wrapping his arms around you, as if to both comfort you and himself. “I want you to be safe and happy, and I wish I could fix this whole thing and make it go away for you, but I can’t and I’m sorry,” he apologized. 

“It’s not your fault,” you responded almost instantly. “I’ve had this for a long time now, I know how to work around it, it just sometimes gets the better of me and–” you pause. “-sometimes I need to rest in someone’s big, strong arms,” you attempt to joke. 

Seth doesn’t laugh, but a small, gentle smile appears on his face. He kisses you on the cheek, laying down with you on the hardwood floor and cuddling with you until you felt well enough to stand up again.

Auron🩸:

Vocal and physical tic attack

Auron had been wondering where you were, as you weren’t in your cubicle in the law department and your co-workers had reported to have not seen you for over an hour, which concerned him. 

He walked past the breakroom, seeing you inside, shaking on one of the chairs. He could hear your rapid breathing and could see the panicked expression in your eyes. 

Your left hand was over your chest, your left hand practically tearing your hair out. Your pupils were blown wide and you were twitching every few seconds. 

You knew it got bad, but never this bad.

Auron sped into the breakroom, and right up to where you sat. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, hands in front of him, unsure whether he should touch you.

“T-wooooo-t-tic attack–” you attempt to say, stuttering and ticcing between words. “-’m sorry boss, I’ll get back to work soon, I just ‘ave to–”

“No, absolutely not,” he interrupted, shutting you down. “You are shaking, Rook,” he started. “And you can barely speak.”

Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment as you looked down, still shaking. 

He sighed. “You said that it would be this bad during the interview, and on your file, but-” he paused. “-I didn’t think it would hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” You responded quickly, fist waving wildly around you, trying to be cautious as to not hit your boss. “Just,” you pause, your voice cracking as you repeat the word. “-tense, just tense.”

Auron frowned at you, seemingly not believing in your explanations. “You’re panicking too, you know.”

You had noticed your breathing speeding up and becoming rapid and inconsistent.

“Sorry,” you apologized. Auron’s frown deepened. 

“Would you,” he paused, not knowing if it would help, or if it would make your ticcing worse. “Can I hug you?” he blurted out, eyes looking anywhere but yours. 

Your back was tense as you remembered how nice his hands felt when you two would spend nights together. Although he seemed tough, his large, warm hands would rub your back, sending you to a realm of comfort and sleepiness.

You thought for a moment before attempting a nod before your neck snapped in the other direction, continuing to twitch. 

He sat in the chair beside you, wrapping his muscular arms around you, his hands on your back, tracing shapes into it.

You were sent into a sense of calmness, his tracing feeling familiar and comfortable in the background of the rain pattering on the windows outside. 

You were still shaking, but the warmth that spread across your body relaxed you, lessening the flinching and twitching until you were barely shaking at all. 

Once your breathing was regular, Auron stopped tracing the shapes on your back, retracting his hands to his pockets. 

“Are you,” he stopped, taking a breath before he spoke again. “Do you feel better? And don’t spout apologies–you don’t have to apologize for this.”

You nodded, not feeling like talking anymore.

“Don’t worry,” he started, standing up. “Leave early today, don’t worry about the work, deadline extended,” he said, walking to the door, stopping as he opened it, a foot out the door. “If-if you ever need someone–just to talk to about this, come find me in my office.”

You silently thanked him, a slight smile on your face, as he walked out of the door. He seemed stoic, but underneath you knew, he cared. He cared about you.

Faust🥏:

Tic attack (+regular panicking)

“Hey,” Faust started, entering your streaming room. “You ended the stream abruptly, what the hell happe–oh shit.”

What he saw was you, lying on your back on your fluffy rug, shaking and twitching. Your head was twitching backwards every few seconds, hitting the fluffy rug, which didn’t help much as it was thin and the floors were hardwood. 

“So this is why you abruptly ended the stream,” he realized aloud, watching as you shook and flinched. 

You could barely talk, your hearing blurring in and out through your aching head. Tears streaked down your face, warm, salty and unending. 

Faust didn’t know how to help you, panic settling in his veins as your condition only got worse. 

The back of your head kept hitting the rug, the underlying floor giving you a headache. You could feel your arms moving without your brain telling them to, going in several different directions, freezing in the middle of the air for a minute before twitching back down at your sides.

“What-what do I do?” Faust asked, clearly more panicked than you were. You could tell he was on the edge of a minor panic attack with how he was acting. He seemed to be panicking about this whole thing even more than you were.

“I–” You try to say, repeating the vowel several times over due to your ticcing. “J-just a tic attack, ‘m gonna be fine–woooooo-” you pause, shaking terribly. “-just give me a-a minute-”

“Fuck! Should I call a doctor?” he shouted, pacing the room. “Should I call my brother, he might know what to do–no, no he wouldn’t even answer his phone!” You hear him ramble. He opens his phone, seemingly googling something. 

“How–no, what to do when your friend has a tic attack?” he mutters, typing the words into the search box on his phone. “Remain calm, don’t draw attention to it, and simply offer quiet support–do you want a hug or a shoulder pat or something?”

You smile at his attempt of assistance warmly. “Could I have the Disney themed w-woooo-weighted blanket?” You ask in-between tics.

“Ye-yeah, of course,” he responds, running out of the room for a moment before running back in and draping the Winnie the Pooh weighted blanket over your body, the weight helping with the tics.

Faust plops himself into a criss-cross-apple-sauce on the fluffy rug, eyes watching you intently as your ticcing calmed down. He sat beside you, hands in his lap until your ticcing stopped, making sure you were okay after and writing down a note to do some research on tics in the near future. 

Charlie🍕:

Zoning out, shaking and minor tics

“Hey Casp’, I’m back from my shift!” he shouted through the apartment, which was unusually silent. “Casper?” he called out, walking further into the apartment. 

He found you trying to make dinner in the kitchen, shaking and twitching as you held onto the dark-toned counters, eyes unfocused. 

He ran over to you, gently taking your forearms in his hands, feeling your arms shake. He walked you down to the couch to sit, your eyes still unfocused. 

Your hearing blurred, as did your vision. You could hear Charlie talking to you about something, seemingly ranting, as he held your shaking arms in his hands. Your eyes were unfocused, eyes facing a wall with a painting on it. 

As your vision blurred back in, you could see the painting clearer. It was one of the few that you’d brought when you moved in with Charlie. A sailboat amongst a calm water city port, several boats around it and in the distance of the painting, clouds gathering overhead. Some of the tiny people in the painting were waving, others sailing and others moving objects in the painting. But the big sailboat in the middle of the painting was the focal point. A woman, dressed in a Dolly Varden dress and a pirate captain’s hat stood sailing it, her long red hair blowing in what seemed to be a breeze, a wide smile on her face, eyes squinted. 

Focusing on the painting had cleared your mind a bit, allowing you to focus more. You remembered why you’d bought it. You’d bought it at a garage sale in your hometown, before you had moved to the city, finding it stunningly beautiful. It reminded you of life in a sort of way, beautiful and peaceful for but a moment. The approaching clouds symbolized the things that could go wrong, or would go wrong. The duality of life and man. The Approaching Storm, it was named. You’d been attached to the painting ever since, not understanding why, but just feeling like it was important enough to garner your spirit.

Your eyes focused, turning your head to face Charlie, who was facing you, concerned, until you faced him. 

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey,” he responded, looking at you warmly. “You feel any better?”

“Yeah,” you answered, tired. “I forgot to take my meds yesterday, and this happ-happened, sorry–”

“Don’t apologize, you can’t control these things sometimes,” he told you, drawing you into a hug. “I’ll make sure you take your meds tonight–and for the rest of the week if you need it?”

You nodded, smiling as you hugged him back, warmth pooling in your chest. 

“Wanna watch movies and eat the leftover Chinese food in the fridge?” he asked, a cheeky smile appearing on his face. 

“I th-thought you’d never ask,” You responded as he stood up from the couch, wrapping a fluffy blanket over you and going over to the kitchen and opening the fridge, grabbing a few containers and bringing them over to the coffee table as you turned on Deadpool.

Lucien😈:

Collapsing(minor), tic attack, absence of medication

“Human–I mean Angel! I’ve brought back some of that human food you like! I think you called it pizza? I got you the one with the cheesy crust, and the cheesy breadsticks!” Lucien called out into your apartment, smiling widely as he carried two boxes, one big pizza box and one smaller box, filled to the brim with cheesy breadsticks.

When he received no response, he called out again. “Angel?” 

Lucien walked around the apartment calling your name, until he found you collapsed on your bedroom floor. “Angel!” he shouted, rushing over to your shaking body, the boxes of food making a ‘thud’ sound as they hit the floor. 

“‘m fine Lucien,” You say, voice raspy and dry. 

“Like hell you are!” he exclaims, his face a cross between angry and concerned. “I know for a fact this is not normal human behavior! Humans don’t just collapse!” he shouted,  his voice ringing through the apartment, and your head. 

He was so loud, and your head was throbbing in your skull. 

“I ran out of meds, Luci–” You interrupted quietly, your voice slightly above a whisper. “-’nd I can’t get any more for another week, when I get my paycheck–” You continued, feeling drowsy. 

“Human medicine should be free,” he huffs. “We have free medication in Hell.”

How is Hell’s medicare system somehow better than the medicare system on Earth? You wondered. 

“We agr–wahhhh–we agree on th-that,” You say in-between tics, your body shaking. You felt colder since Fall was rolling in and you never had a good personal storage of body heat. You thought that might’ve been something that triggered a tic attack besides the absence of your meds.

“I’ve-I’ve lived with-without my meds before, Lucien,” You tell him, eyes blinking slowly as you felt exhaustion seeping into your bones. “I’ll survive without th-them for a we–eeee-ek,” You finish in-between tics, giving him a tired smile, as if to tell him not to worry. 

“But that’s not fair, that’s not how it should be,” Lucien huffed, furrowing his dark eyebrows. 

“Y-you and be both agree on that, buddy,” you laugh. “B-but sadly, life ain’t that w-wahhh-aay.”

“What can I do to help?” he asked, still hovering over you, concerned. 

You still felt practically freezing, shaking not only from the tics, but from the lack of body heat

“I am freezing,” You start, rubbing your hands together. “-and you are like a stove, Dear Luci,” you continue. 

“Human cuddles then?” he inquired, ignoring the ‘Dear Luci’ comment. You nodded as he scooped you up into his big, hairy, muscly, red arms. He carried you to the living room couch, cuddling you against his chest. 

He sat down on the couch with you on top of him, cuddled into his warm chest. He threw a blanket over the two of you, placing your head in the crook of his neck. He kissed your forehead, smiling into your hair as you drifted off to a well deserved sleep.

(CC: God, I love cheesy breadsticks dipped in garlic sauce. My favorite Pizza order is that, but with extra cheese. . .lmao pizza FORGOTTEN)

Finn🌻:

Collapsing and minor tics (Severe Tourette’s)

“Welcome to Talk Floral! What can I help you with toda–oh it’s you Sunflower!” he exclaims, originally thinking it was any old customer who walked into the shop, before realizing it was you. “It’s–it’s good to see you! Do you need an arrangement?”

You shook your head. “No, I just wanted to see my favorite florist!” 

“I’m your favorite florist?” he repeated, baffled. “You know other florists–wait, I’m the only florist you know!”

“My favorite is the one I know,” You say, giggling. “He’s also my amazing boyfriend,” You teased. He laughed and grinned, blushing.

“So what’d you come fo–” Finn started to ask. 

That was when your hearing tuned out, your vision becoming blurry. You feel your legs shake as you hold onto the table at the front of the store. You hear a voice becoming eerily closer to you. A blob of yellow and green appeared in front of you just as your legs gave way, causing you to collapse in someone’s arms.

You feel yourself shaking, your vision unfocused. You felt your head being laid in someone’s lap. 

“-ey, hey! You okay Sunflower–oh sorry, clearly you're not okay–I’m so sorry for asking-” You heard your boyfriend, Finn say, running a hand through his hair. “What do you need? I can get you something? I can get some of the candy from the back–or I can just stay here, with you–” 

“I’m–eeeeee-I’m good Finney,” You start, in-between tics. “Love, it-it’s just a bad tic day. J-just a bad day, Finn. I-I’ll be fine–”

“You’re not fine!” he shouted, raising his voice and his shoulders. “Sorry for yelling, Sunflower,” he apologized. “I’m just worried for you, a-and for your wellbeing, be-because I care for you, because I love you.”

“I-I love you too, Finney,” You responded, smiling as your vision returned. “I guess, if-if it’s not a bother, *hic* could you get me some candy from the back–and th-then– *heee* hug me?” 

Finn smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss into your hair and standing up. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said, walking to the back and then back out with a bag of sour patch kids. 

“Here, have some,” he told you, propping your head up on his lap and putting a few watermelon sour patch kids in your mouth. You chewed them slowly and swallowed them, feeling a slight rush of energy to stave the growing exhaustion.

Once you did, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the back, gently placing you on the couch before snuggling in beside you and kissing your forehead. 

Your vision was slowly returning, as was your hearing while Finn cuddled you putting his head in the crook of your neck and smiling into the nape of your neck. 

“Love you,” You whispered to him, wrapping your shaking arms around his body. 

“I love you too, My Sunflower,” he told you admiringly, pressing one final kiss to your forehead before you two fell asleep in each others arms

Taglist: (None yet, let me know if you’d like to be added.) =)

[creative-caramel-coffee]

TIME FOR AN UPDATE

Ok I think it’s time I did some explaining…

Basically over the past few months I have been posting a lot less as many of you noticed. Now I am not leaving tumblr and probably won’t ever, but I was taking a break. On one hand I’ve had a lot of work for uni and some health issues.

As I’ve mentioned on here before I was recently diagnosed with POTS. In the months following my diagnosis we believed I had started to have non-epileptic seizures. Anywhere from 2-5+ a day sometimes more than 10. It was making it very hard to get work done let alone write fic and there were days I was unable to do anything due to me being extremely tired which isn’t normal for me.

When I first went to the hospital the doctor didn’t know what POTS was and as a result I was sent for test after test only to get no results. After I did some research on it myself after months of no answers. I realised POTS may explain it better than any theory the doctors had.

I also begun getting tics and it took me a while to be comfortable out in public again and in my classes which means I had fallen behind.

Now I’m booked in with my POTS specialist again for an appointment in a few weeks where I will hopefully get some answers.

Whilst it is rare to have seizure-like episodes with POTS it’s not unheard of.

What I guess the main point I have is, until I am able to manage my studies and health again and I have some ways to manage my POTS it’s unlikely I’ll be posting fic in the next few weeks. HOWEVER… I will be back to my writing once uni is done and I feel a bit better. I have only about one assignment left before I have to move out of my apartment and back home. So I’ll have more time then.

The other thing I want you guys to take away from this is that even though doctors know a lot they don’t always know everything and it’s important to do your own research and advocate for yourself because the person who knows what your going through best is yourself.

(Also the doctor was a major asshole who treated me like a child and kept implying I was just trying to get out of uni work)

Take care everyone and I should be back to my usual fics and shenanigans soon. Thank you to everyone who has stuck around despite my absence on here lately.

Again I’m NOT giving up writing I’m just trying to get my life back in order before I come back.

Drink water and take breaks my lovely people

-ccc

[stray-kaz]

Between a Tree and a Lockwood : an Anthony Lockwood x f!reader oneshot

The Gist of This: Lockwood and reader are on a very human mission, but humans can be even more dangerous than ghosts. A criminal right around the corner makes the perfect time to make out, right? In other words, “Oh, shoot, we’re about to get caught, you’d better kiss me now.”

A tiny smidge of 18+

“You ready?”

You glanced up from the book you were reading to see Lockwood in the doorway, dressed down for a change. You raised your eyebrows at his soft hoodie and dark jeans, his ever present Converse in place on his feet. He was watching you expectantly, as if you had any idea what he was talking about.

“What am I supposed to be ready for?” you asked, swinging your feet down onto the floor.

Lockwood sighed and rolled his eyes.

“We have a relic to steal, remember? Flo’s paying us for it. I did tell you about it this morning, you know.”

You scoffed and stood up, leaving your book on the chair behind you.

“If you didn’t say my name, I probably didn’t hear you” you told him, coming to a stop in front of him, toe to toe.

You reached out a hand and lightly traced a finger down the front of his hoodie, from his chest to his abdomen, curious about how it felt.

“This is nice” you said, glancing up at his face in time to catch the tic in his jaw as he clenched it. “Soft. Why don’t you wear it more often?”

“It’s hardly work attire, sunshine” Lockwood muttered, lightly taking your hand to place it back down by your side.

“Then why are you wearing it now?” you asked, sunshine looping in your mind.

He shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

“Because my suit and rapier are a little too obvious.”

“Ah, so we’re undercover today” you mused, looking down at your oversized cardigan and soft woolly leggings. “Is this okay then?”

You propped your hands on your hips and spun in a dramatic circle, flinging your arms out at the end.

“Ta-da!”

When you looked back at him, Lockwood’s lips were pursed as he tried to hide a smile, his warm gaze travelling the length of you.

“More than okay” he told you. “Perfect, as always.”

That took you by surprise and you stumbled slightly, coming up short with Lockwood’s hands holding your shoulders, keeping you steady.

“Whoa, there” he murmured. “I think we had better go before you knock yourself out.”

You nodded, followed him out and collected your boots by the door, hopping down the steps as you pulled them on. Lockwood watched you with a sigh, shaking his head fondly.

“How did you ever end up as an agent?” he asked you. “You can barely put your own shoes on without falling over.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and fell into step by his side; you hardly noticed, but he always slowed his strides to make it easier for your shorter legs to keep up, his mind always one move ahead. You kind of loved him for all the care he took.

“So what is this relic we’re appropriating?” you asked. “And what happens if we find ourselves in a spot of trouble and we don’t have weapons?”

Lockwood glanced at you, reading your face; you looked completely at ease with the situation. Apparently you trusted him so innately that even the possibility of weaponless danger didn’t faze you. The notion of this simultaneously soothed and terrified him.

“I’ve seen you” he replied. “You’re pretty handy with your fists. And, besides, me, myself and my silver tongue have talked us out of many a scrape in the past.”

You rolled your eyes at his ego and bumped against him gently.

“Fond of yourself, eh, Anthony?”

Fonder of you, sunshine.

He didn’t say anything else. The weak autumn sun chose that moment to strike you and you turned your face up towards it, smiling with your eyes closed. Lockwood took his chance, pivoting so he could walk backwards and study your face at the same time. He couldn’t help but smile at the peace in your expression, black lashes sweeping over your cheekbones. Sunshine, indeed.

“You didn’t answer my first question” you said, suddenly opening your eyes to find him staring at you with something like awe.

“Oh, um, right” Lockwood mumbled, falling in next to you again. “What is the relic? A glass eye.”

You pulled a face, disgusted.

“A glass eye? That’s foul! Whose is it?”

“Probably some unfortunate shuffled off this mortal coil before their time” Lockwood answered, shrugging again. 

“And why are we getting it for Flo?”

“Because the buyer she has lined up for it is paying four grand for it and she’s only taking a small cut. We have bills to pay, you know.”

“Yes, boss.”

He glanced at you again to see if you were bothered, but your expression had smoothed and you were smiling slightly.

“Do you miss your family?” Lockwood blurted out suddenly.

You glanced up at him, surprised by the question. Was he feeling insecure about something? Did he think you were going to leave? Leave George and Lucy? Leave Anthony bloody Lockwood? Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

“You’re my family” you said.

“Yes, I know, but -”

“No buts” you said quietly. “You’re my family. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

The ease with which you said it hit him with the force of a hammer and he stared at you, brown eyes wide. You stared stoically ahead, refusing to meet his eye, biting your lip hard enough to taste copper. You had confessed your feelings about Lockwood to George, but to the boss himself? You didn’t think you could ever be so stupid.

The sun was at its highest peak in the sky when you arrived at the small Sunday market Flo had told you about. You shook your head as you looked around at the tight pods of people moving from stall to stall, picking up death relics and listening to the stall owners spout chapter and verse.

“This happens on Sundays?” you said, incredulous. “That’s awful. On the Lord’s day?”

Lockwood laughed and grinned down at you.

“Relic men never sleep” he said, amused. “Not even on the Lord’s day. Come on, sunshine.”

There it was again.

The two of you wandered around, trying your best to look like everybody else’s version of normal, until Lockwood grabbed your hand all of a sudden and dragged you over to one particular kiosk, his palm a little rough and calloused against yours.

“Look” he whispered, pointing.

Pulse hammering in your ears, you followed the direction of his pointing finger and saw the rounded glass eye settled in a small bed of crushed black velvet. The iris was bright blue and it spun as you looked at it.

“Oh, yuck” you gasped, and turned your face into Lockwood’s chest, your cheek brushing the soft front of his hoodie.

As you did so, your free hand snuck out and slid the velvet casing off the edge of the table, tucking it swiftly into one of Lockwood’s jeans pockets. He jumped a little as your fingers brushed the inner seam of the pocket, but he did his best to hide it by burying his face in your hair and pretending to hush you, his other arm rising to wrap around your shoulders and anchor you to him.

“She’s fine, really” you heard him say to the vendor, who was watching you a little anxiously. “Just a weak stomach.”

Hidden by his arm, you pinched him through his hoodie and he jumped a little again, knowing there’d likely be a bruise later.

“Come along” he muttered in your ear, guiding you away from the stall and watchful eyes.

When you were a safe distance away, you took a step back from Lockwood and beamed up at him.

“I got it!” you said, dancing from foot to foot. “Yes!”

He covered your mouth with his hand as his eyes widened. Yours did, too, your lips burning against his skin.

“Shh!” he whispered frantically. “Someone’s coming!”

He glanced around and then dragged you over to a wide trunked tree, the only cover there was anywhere nearby. He pressed you against it, the bark digging into you through the thick material of your cardigan. You gazed up at Lockwood with wide eyes, his hands on either side of your head, his stomach pressed to yours.

You couldn’t think your way out of a paper bag; his closeness was dizzying, the scents of bergamot and sharp aftershave invading your senses and spinning your mind in a circle.

He looked down at you, realising for the first time just how close he was to you, his body pinning yours to the tree, your hips starting to squirm a little bit.

“Hey” he said softly, the brown of his eyes swallowed by onyx. “If we’re about to die right now, then I think it would be severely remiss of you not to kiss me first. What do you think, sunshine?”

You still couldn’t think, so you did, instead. You tugged him down to you by the silver zip on his hoodie, his lips colliding with yours, as a hitched gasp was pulled from your throat. You fisted the soft fabric of his hoodie and Lockwood melted against you, his whole body turning to heat and pressure on yours.

The creature of want that had been quietly feeding off the little soft moments with Anthony Lockwood stretched languorously and showed its teeth.

You arched against him, soft where he was angular, and slid your hands up from his chest to his hair, opening up for him and feeling your knees turn to liquid as his tongue touched yours.

He sighed into you and tucked a leg in between yours, strengthening your position. You moaned softly as the rough denim of his jeans caught and dragged between your legs and Lockwood echoed you as he started to rock slowly up into you, having by now completely forgotten how this had begun in the first place.

Footsteps rounded the tree and there was a gruff scoff and a heavily accented male voice.

“It’s just a couple of randy teenagers. Keep lookin’, it’ll be around here somewhere.”

You heard the words, but barely registered them, too engrossed in the sensation of Lockwood slipping a hand underneath your t-shirt and onto the soft skin of your tummy, slowly questing up and up. 

Before he could reach what he wanted, another, much more familiar voice, interrupted.

“Seriously, Locky? There are more comfortable places to cop a feel than against a tree. Try a bed. Can I at least have the relic?”

Lockwood rummaged in his pocket and thrust the velvet wrapped glass eye in the direction of Flo’s voice, not bothering to look. She took it and pressed a wad of cash into his hand, which he then stuffed into his pocket, not breaking eye contact with you.

“What do you think?” he asked you, face flushed pink and his gaze on you like molten lava. “Shall we try a bed?”

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 7

Pairings: Slow Burn Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NS/FW, f!reader, language, reader thinks Bucky’s name is Nick, fake names (for now, coming to an end soon, I promise), reader is referred to by her stage name, everybody has secrets, reader is insecure, Bucky is a lovable menace, reader is an ex*tic dancer, conversation about int!mate details, D/$ dynamic and talk, d@ddy k!nk, slight reference to 0r/al, slow burn relationship. There will be many, many more warnings for future chapters including maf!a and all the stuff that comes with that.

A/N- this is a long one...but we’re here >:D

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NS/FW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated.

Previous- Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“Truth or dare,” he teased, the ever-present challenging grin on his lips. 

That damn challenge in his smile again....it was the fire igniting underneath the rocket before take off; awesome, a little frightening... explosive. 

You smoothed your hands down the lush purple silk resting against your thighs, trying to appear cool and not at all like you were wiping your sweaty palms off. You’d sort of not expected Nick to have a driver, but realized after everything he’d told you this week, it made sense. He was always on the go, always busy with work, so why wouldn’t he have one so he could keep working instead of driving? One night this past week, he was actually on the phone when you walked into the Champagne Room, then had forgotten to put it on airplane mode after he ended the call. You swore that damn thing buzzed ten times in the next fifteen seconds. He was a busy, busy man.

As if he was reading your mind, or maybe your eyes had given you away again, who knows, Nick nodded to the driver. “This is Steve,” he said, by way of an introduction. “He’s my right hand man. He’s my own personal Amex card- never leave home without him.” Nick grinned at the man cheekily. 

You caught a fleeting glimpse of Steve’s eyes shooting Nick a slightly annoyed look in the rearview mirror, before his eyes returned to the road. “Miss,” he said by way of an introduction in a low, respectful tone. 

“Pleased to meet you, Steve. I’m...” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nick perk up slightly. “...Angel,” you finished promptly, letting your lips curve into your own secretive smile. You almost giggled out loud when Nick gave a slight huff, pouting and dropping back against the seat. A muscle twitched in Steve’s cheek. 

“Well, I have to say that I’m glad you didn’t tell him your real name,” Nick said pompously, making it even harder for you to control your giggle. “If you’d given it up to him immediately after all the hard work I’ve done, my feelings would be...just so hurt.” He placed one of his gloved hands on his chest dramatically, pretending to hold back the tears. You couldn’t help it. The silliness and the sweetness of the moment made you burst out with the giggles you’d been holding back. He rewarded you with that heartbeat altering smile and a chuckle of his own. 

You pulled up in front of an innocuous building, a simple sign bearing the word ‘Saporito’ over the double doors and heavily tinted windows. Nick chivalrously took your hand, helping you to step out of the car. His hand gently rested on the small of your back as you two made your way to the door. A thrill zinged through your blood at the feeling of his small moment of dominance and you inhaled just the tiniest bit at it. A host opened the door as you approached, nodding respectfully at Nick. Clearly, he knew the guy. You tucked that information away for later. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve exchanging a quick word with the valet, then following you both at a distance. 

The moment you got through the doors, you instantly realized that you were in the most upscale restaurant that you’d ever been in before. The front desk was a cream marble half round, being manned by a lovely hostess with a slick blonde updo. A thick, luxurious, deep gray carpet with a silver swirling details spread out before you, which surprised you- you’d never seen carpet in a restaurant before. The softness under your feet was surprisingly soothing, and after taking two steps in your wedge heels, you understood. It absorbed sound, letting the sweet lilt of classical piano music fill the air instead of the click of heels and dress shoes. A softly glowing magnificent chandelier lit the entry way, and the light ricocheted off the rich dark silver and mahogany walls. It was so simple yet so elegant that it took your breath away. And you paused, only for a heartbeat. 

But of course, Nick picked up on it. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Do you not like this restaurant?”

You shook your head slightly, not really sure how to say this, but finally just settled on the truth. “Um, I don’t think...I’m fancy enough to be here,” you whispered to him, your cheeks flushing crimson. Sure you were wearing the fanciest dress you owned- that you’d gotten super lucky at in the clearance section. Your shoes were in good condition even though they were at least 6 years old because you didn’t have much cause to wear them. How the hell were you supposed to fit in in such an upscale place like this? 

Nick smiled gently at you, then took your hand and tucked it underneath his arm. “You are,” he said kindly but firmly. “You absolutely are ‘fancy’ enough to be here.” He led you right to the podium. “Evening, Yelena,” he said politely to the hostess.

“Good evening, sir,” she said with professional courtesy. A tiny part of you twinged with jealousy at hearing someone else call him ‘sir’. Oh my god get over yourself, you snarled inwardly. He’s not yours. Yet.

Completely oblivious to your self-mental castigation, Yelena continued. “Your room is ready for you.” From her tone, it was obvious they knew each other, or had some sort of professional relationship.

“Makkari?”

“Ready as requested, sir.”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

Yelena nodded back, and turned to you with a warm smile. She opened her mouth, but then shut it quickly, before stepping out from behind the podium. “Follow me, please,” she said courteously, then turned and began walking. 

Your insides quaked. There had been nothing judgmental in her smile at you, but it was obvious she had stopped herself from saying something. It had to be something about your appearance, the nasty voice in your head snarled at you. You were right- you had no place being here. You looked at the ground, calling upon your devil-may-care persona to get you through this moment. 

“She was about to ask to take your coat,” Nick whispered to you suddenly, shocking you back to normal. Your eyes darted to his smirking grin. Man, he really did notice everything. “She realized you didn’t have one.” Now he arched his eyebrow at you a bit. “Why don’t you have one?” he said calmly, but there was an undercurrent to it that made you shiver, just once. 

Completely thrown by the upheaval of your insecurities, Nick’s observation, and the feeling that you still didn’t belong, you couldn’t do anything other than stutter. “I don’t...need one?” you said, still flummoxed. To your surprise, Nick’s lips pinched at that, but he didn’t say anything. He just tucked your hand closer to his body and followed Yelena. 

You were led to a private room, small but not claustrophobia-inducing. A floaty silver silk tablecloth covered the small square table in the center, with a low glass bowl of freshly cut white gardenias gracing the top. Nick moved swiftly in front of you to pull the mahogany chair out for you. You sat down extremely carefully. The seat looked like it was covered in black silk, and even though you were a well coordinated dancer, your upheaving feelings could easily make you a klutz and you’d slide right off the damn thing. 

“Two glasses of the Montrachet Grand Cru, if you don’t mind,” he said offhandedly to Yelena as he sat himself. 

“Right away, sir,” she said with pleasant efficiency. “Makkari will bring them out momentarily.” She turned to you again, offering you her warm smile. “Enjoy,” she said, before shutting the door behind her. 

As the doorjamb clicked, it suddenly dawned on you. “You own this place, don’t you?” you asked, the penny dropping. 

Nick smiled and nodded. “One of my ventures is in the restaurant industry. Not the greatest money maker, but we’ve done alright.” You could sense something lurking behind his smile as he said it, but couldn’t tell what it might be. “That’s why I was worried that you didn’t like it at first. Can’t have my places carrying a bad rap.”

You laughed. “As if this place could be anything but amazing. Your staff is probably thinking you’re crazy for bringing someone like me here.”

Nick’s eyes iced over before locking onto yours. You suddenly felt like a little girl who had just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Why do you think that?” he said, in that low, silky tone that he’d used before when asking why you didn’t have a coat. “You’re absolutely stunning. You look incredible, you’re funny as hell, you’re sweet and kind, and besides- it’s MY place. They wouldn’t dare,” he said, in that mellifluous yet dangerous tone. “If they think anything like that, they’ll find themselves out on their asses. Got it?”

“Ye-yes sir,” you said without thinking. His gaze was still locked onto you, but the ice left his eyes. He tilted his head, studying you. 

“Why do you think so negatively about yourself, Angel?” he asked in a soft, calm tone- this time, without the undercurrent of tension. “This isn’t the first time it’s come up this past week. I don’t like it when you do that. I want you to stop.” You found yourself completely at a loss for words. You wanted to answer, to ask him a million questions (the biggest one being why he cared about how you thought about yourself), to find someway to laugh it off and change the subject, but your brain had completely abandoned you when you needed it the most just like it had been doing all week. “And that’s part of what I want to talk about tonight.”

Wait-what?

Just then, the door to the room opened, making you jump a mile. A beautiful young woman dressed entirely in black entered quickly, bearing a tray with two glasses of white wine. She beamed at the both of you as she set the wine in front of you. She turned to Nick with a flurry of her hands. You suddenly realized that she was signing to him. And even more to your surprise, Nick signed right back to her. That’s right- you’d forgotten that he told you he knew a bit of sign language when you two had talked about other languages you knew this past week. You watched, fascinated. He had been modest- he clearly knew more than a ‘bit’. There was something so subtly beautiful about the communication between their hands- it was mesmerizing. Makkari turned to you with that beaming smile and began signing to you. You panicked for a moment, before Nick began to translate. 

“Angel, this is Makkari. She says ‘welcome to Saporito’, and would like to know if you have any dietary restrictions.” You shook your head, smiling back at Makkari’s warmth. Makkari responded with a smile and another flurry of hand signs that Nick translated. “She says that chef’s specials tonight are Scallopine di Pollo Marsala, which is chicken scallopine in a cream of artichoke marsala sauce with roasted potatoes, Stinco Di Agnello Con Risotto, a braised lamb shank osso buco with parmesan risotto, and Linguine Nere Al Gamberi, which is house-made black linguine with shrimp in a spicy red sauce.”

“Um, the chicken dish, please,” you said softly, knowing there was no way you were going to remember the fancy name that came along with it, let alone how to try to sign it to her. She nodded at you with a wide smile, clearly able to read lips. Nick smiled that secretive smile of his, and confirmed your order, adding his own in the process. Makkari signed back to him, then turned and gave you a sassy thumbs up with a wink and a grin, making you giggle. That seemed to make the lovely server even happier, and she disappeared in a flash. Nick rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress his grin at her cheekiness. 

“Geez, can’t even get my own staff to be professional...” he complained, but it was obvious he was teasing. “I gotta visit this place more often and get them back into shape.”

“Did you know sign language before you hired Makkari?” you asked. 

“Only a little. Once she came on board, though, I took a course to refresh myself. I’m actually here quite often, and she always waits on me, so I stay pretty up to date with it.”

“It was impressive, you rattling off all those fancy Italian dishes like that.”

“Full disclosure, I called them earlier to find out what they’d be serving and I’ve been practicing all day so i could impress you. Glad to know it worked.” You tried to stifle your laughter, sure it wouldn’t be welcome in such a fancy place. Nick chuckled at your obvious squirming. “The room is sound proof. Laugh all you want to.” Which of course was all the permission it took, and you laughed out loud while Nick looked very smugly proud of himself. 

Once you settled down, you wiped your eyes daintily with the fine linen napkin. “Well, even with practice, it was still beautiful to watch. Certain words you both used reminded me of bharatanatyam.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a traditional Indian dance style. It originated in Tamil Nadu, and the word derives from their words meaning expression and dance. It’s thought to be one of the most communicative and expressive dance styles in the world.”

“And of course you’ve studied that one too.”

“A bit. I more enjoy watching it, it’s beyond brilliant and so engaging.”

“As are you when you dance.”

That sent a blush tearing through you again, and you looked down demurely. “Thank you,” you said, trying to hide your smile at how much that compliment meant to you. 

“Hmmm. Seems like we’ll need to work on that, too.”

“On what?”

“Trying to hide anytime someone compliments you.”

Don’t jump to conclusions. Don’t jump to conclusions. Don’t jump to conclusions.... “What...exactly do you mean?” you said carefully, knotting your hands together tightly in your lap. 

Nick sighed, reaching for his wine glass, but he didn’t pick it up. He twisted the stem back and forth, watching the white wine swirl in the glass as he answered you. “Look, tonight...tonight is going to be about...honesty,” he said in a low, carefully controlled voice. “I’m going to be honest with you, and I’ll need you to be honest with me. Do you understand?”

“Um...I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but...have I...given you any impression that I’ve not been honest with you this whole week?” you asked bravely, despite the stuttering it took to get the words out. “Because if I have, I’m sorry. I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”

Nick’s clear blue eyes met yours, and you were relieved to see that warm, shy smile there. “I know,” he said gently. “I know you’ve been honest with me. And it’s remarkably refreshing. That’s one of the reasons....that I feel so strongly for you already.” Every nerve in your body came alive again, firing all at once as the zing of ecstasy raced through your blood. Holy shit. He had feelings for you. And he just admitted it. IN PUBLIC. Okay, in a private sound proof room with no one else around but STILL. “I have things to tell you tonight. And I need your continued honesty with me. Can you give me that?”

“Ye-yes.”

“You hesitated.”

“Well, you have to admit that was a bit of a red-flag statement. Suddenly saying that you were going to be honest with me TONIGHT after spending a whole week telling me things,” you said bluntly. When his lips pinched together, you held up your hands in an innocent and surrendering gesture. “Hey, you said you wanted honesty.”

Nick’s lips suddenly turned up, and he gave a low, throaty laugh. “That I did. Well, good to know you’re being a good girl and listening.” And you couldn’t help it- when he said ‘good girl’, all the zing in your blood immediately centralized between your thighs. And you squirmed. And you knew in an instant he saw. You knew because those sinfully delicious lips of his cracked into that wicked, mischievous smile. It seemed to confirm something for him, and he plowed ahead. “So. It’s time to get honest about something that we’ve yet to discuss.”

“And...what’s that?” you asked nervously. 

Nick leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and locking his hands together, looking you dead in the eye. “All your life, you’ve been the one taking care of others. Haven’t you? Your parents, your friends, past partners, even to some extent your teachers and coaches.”

You thought of all the stories you’d told him this week about growing up (and about all the stories that you HADN’T told him) and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess I have,” you admitted softly.

“You are always the one picking up the pieces, setting things right, making everyone else happy and comfortable. You’re going above and beyond for everyone else except yourself.”

“Well, that’s a bit of a stretch. You’re making me out to be some kind of saint.”

“You are named ‘Angel’,” he replied with that damn cheeky grin. “A name you picked yourself, might I add.”

“Yeah, but that-”

“Shhh, I’m on a roll,” he said pompously, making you giggle again. “So you’ve spent your life always giving to others. And I think it’s because you don’t think you’re worthy of it yourself.” Your eyes could not have gotten any wider. Between the audacity of his statement, the annoying fact that he was right, and the fact that he somehow knew this about you, you were literally at a loss for words. “So I want a chance to flip the script on you.” His ocean blue eyes drank your face in as he continued. The honest intensity behind his words was darkly captivating. “I want you to be with me. I want to take care of you, to help you, to give you a chance to see that you’re worth it. I want you to be mine. Because there is something about you that absolutely fascinates me, and I want to know every part of it. It’s something I’ve never seen before. I need to know everything about you.” He leaned back again, taking a breath before smiling widely. “Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘colpo di fulmine’?” 

“No...is...is that...Italian?” was all you could get out, your mind somewhere between wild elation and Chernobyl as you struggled to stay in the moment. 

“It is. It’s a Sicilian expression meaning ‘struck by a thunderbolt’. And that’s how I felt the first time I met you. Like I’d been hit by a thunderbolt. And it was...incredible.” Nick leaned back, trying to figure out his next words and struggling. His eyes darted around as he got more and more agitated. You furrowed your brow- he normally was so smooth and he never struggled for words... 

“Look, I’m just gonna say it,” he finally spat out, clearly annoyed with himself. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Sorry if that’s not all politically correct and shit, but you need to know that’s how I feel before I say this next part. You’re hot as hell, don’t get me wrong, but there was something else that gave me the thunderbolt. There was something about the way you danced on that night that....well, frankly, I haven’t been able to think about anything else clearly since then,” he said bluntly. “And I NEED to be able to think and talk clearly in my line of work. With one dance, you’ve rendered me speechless. That has never happened to me before.” You suddenly remembered him tripping over his words on that first night and how mad he’d been at himself- he’d done a huge shot of bourbon just to get his thoughts back on track. His eyes finally settled back on you, now that he’d gotten his words out of the way. “You fascinate me. Something about you draws me in. I have never, not once, asked for a second night in the Champagne Room with anyone. And even after a week, it’s still not enough. I have to know. I have to know all about the world that you keep locked inside you, that only comes out when you dance for yourself.” He leaned back, reverting to the charmer. “So what do you say?”

The silence hung in the air between you as your brain pinged in a thousand directions like a malfunctioning pinball machine. You reminded yourself to breathe and blink, but that was all your were capable of doing at the moment. Which of course signaled the perfect moment for Makkari to enter with your entrees. 

As the door opened, you jumped a freaking mile again, turning Hooker Lipstick Red in the process. Makkari pretended not to notice, placing a dish in front of you that made your mouth immediately water from the look and smell of it. She placed Nick’s down as well. He put the tips of his fingers to his chin and then brought his hand forward, smiling at Makkari. “Is that thank you?” you blurted out, your brain finally deciding to work again. He smiled at you and nodded. You turned to Makkari, repeating the gesture. She gave you a huge smile, as if she’d been touched by your consideration. She signed the same gesture back, and shot Nick a quick grin before speeding off again. 

After watching her leave, you turned your attention back to Nick. “Did I do it wrong? Is that why she signed it back?” you asked worriedly. 

“No,” he said, chuckling. “That’s a common response to ‘thank you’ in ASL. It means she acknowledges your thanks and thanks you back.” He picked up his fork, still grinning. “See? This is what I’m talking about. I just told you that you’re gorgeous and that I want to be with you, that no one has ever made me feel this way, that you’ve hit me like a thunderbolt, and the only thing I can get out of you is to make sure that Makkari understood your thanks.”

“Oh god,” you suddenly said, panic gripping you again. “I don’t mean to make you think that I-”

“Relax,” he teased, chuckling. “It was a lot to drop on you all at once, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” you replied faintly, making him laugh again. He gestured to your wine. “Well, have a drink, and let me talk you into accepting my offer while we eat.” You reached for your glass and downed it in one, the hurricane in your brain still going full blast. Nick just laughed kindly at that. You ignored him and dug into your chicken as he requested. 

Oh my god. 

“This is the best thing I have ever had in my mouth in my life,” you said without thinking, completely blown away by the incredible taste. Suddenly realizing the unintentional double entredre, your eyes shot to his. Of course he caught it. He had that smarmy, shit eating grin on his face, which only got wider as you blushed deeper. Well, fuck. You willed the blood flushing your cheeks to return to the rest of your body as you ate and prayed he wouldn’t comment, otherwise your ovaries were goners. Thankfully, Makkari came back in to check on you two, refilling your glasses and giving you a much needed moment to breathe.

In between bites once she left, Nick kept the conversation going. “So. I suppose I should explain what I mean when I say I want to take care of you?” he asked, forthright. Your nervous gaze darted up to his. 

“Yeah, I’d...be interested to know what you mean,” you said, trying to appear brave. There was no way that he could possibly mean what you desperately hoped he meant. Dreams didn’t actually come true. 

Nick ran his gloved finger along his bottom lip as he thought, then carefully spoke. “I want to...take care of you in many ways. I want to financially provide for you, yes, but I want more than to just be a ‘sugar daddy’.” The way your thighs pressed together when he said ‘daddy’... “I want to help you get rid of all this negative garbage that’s in your head. I want to see what you would find yourself capable of if you weren’t standing in your own way. I want to give you instructions, and help you follow them. I want to set your mind free. I want to be the one to do it.”

You had slowly laid your fork down as he spoke. You hadn’t thought it could be true. But, reading between the lines, you heard what he was actually saying. “You’re a Dominant,” you said softly, but firmly. 

His eyebrows slowly rose to his hairline, but the twinkle sparked in his eye. “You’re familiar with the terms,” he said cautiously, gauging your reaction. 

“I am,” you said just as cautiously back. Steady now...

“Well then, that makes this a hell of a lot easier,” he said with his smug grin, very pleased. You laughed as the tension broke in the room, and tried to casually go on eating as he continued. “I’m not a typical Dominant, not in the sense most people think. I like rules, and I like to be obeyed. I like rewarding you when you behave, and punishing you when you don’t. But I don’t want to control every aspect of your life- that becomes really boring, really fast. But I KNOW I can get you to face whatever this is inside you that’s making you feel like shit. I hate watching you upset, I hate watching you take pot-shots at yourself. I want to change that. Call it...my own personal challenge,” he finished with a sudden cheeky grin. 

“Truth or dare,” you teased back, taking a sip of wine and praying he didn’t notice your hand shaking. “So...you’re a bit of a soft Dom who’s not into total power exchange.” At that, his eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise. 

“You DO know what you’re talking about,” he murmured, impressed. “How many Doms have you had before?”

Your eyes drifted to the table. It was your turn to roll the stem of your glass in your fingers as you thought about your answer. “This is a convoluted answer,” you began carefully, “You’re not going to get a number out of me, if that’s what you’re asking for. But if I’m being completely honest..none, as I’ve never really had a good one.” You took a sip of wine to wet your parched mouth before continuing. “I’ve had guys try, but they were either trying to placate me and they couldn’t do it, or they went too hard too fast and didn’t understand all the intricacies of the role-that it’s not about beating someone into submission and making them feel as much pain as possible.”

“No one has ever taken care of you,” Nick said softly, leaning back in his chair. “I was right, wasn’t I?” Your only answer was your masked smile- to hear it said so bluntly yet with tenderness was bringing you to the point of tears. He leaned forward, reaching his hand across the table to you. As if you couldn’t help it, you placed your hand into his immediately. His gloved thumb brushed soothingly across the back of your hand. “I want to do that for you. You deserve that. You deserve so much more, but...I just want to start here. Let me. Accept my offer.” He swallowed hard. “Please.”

You looked into those spell-binding blue eyes. You already knew what your answer was, what your entire being was screaming for. But there was still one sticking point. And you had to know.

“Please tell me your name,” you almost whispered. 

He stilled, just for a moment. “Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” he said, echoing his offer from last night. His grip tightened on your hand, just a bit. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and told him your name. 

His face broke out with a dazzling smile. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Absolutely beautiful. But...I’m going to keep calling you Angel, because that’s what I see when I see you.” He brought your hand to his lips, effectively putting an end to the words you were going to say- whether it was to argue for or against him continuing to call you Angel, who could say. All you could think about was those electrifying lips that had captivated you last night pressing against your hand so lovingly. This had to be a dream. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, kissing your hand almost desperately, before letting you go with a sigh. He leaned back heavily into his chair, his eyes boring into yours. You didn’t understand the sudden spark of fear that you saw there, but you saw the moment it morphed into resolution. He removed the glove from his left hand and tossed it casually on the table, then let his hand rest on the table.

The first thing you caught was the flash of silver. Was it another glove, or some kind of unique jewelry? You suddenly realized his hand itself was silver as he twisted and turned it, not saying a word, watching your every move. You suddenly realized what exactly you were looking at. 

Colpo di fulmine. 

But in a very, very different way than his. Yours was terrifying.

It began coming together in your brain like one of those equations from A Beautiful Mind, the horror growing as each piece of the puzzle fell into place. “CEO” of “many companies”, all of various professions that didn’t make sense together. Sound proof rooms with deaf waiters- so no one could hear you. Exorbitant wealth. Business owner who took no shit. Never having to explain himself to anyone. Constantly busy, constantly in demand. Right hand man who he never left home without. Someone who could wave Fury away without a glance. And the disturbing rumors and whispers on the message boards in the darkest corners of the internet from last night, with what you assumed had to be an urban legend, because there was no way it could possibly be real. And you were right. This wasn’t a dream. It was turning into a nightmare. Every fiber of your being felt like it had been plunged into a bucket of ice water and you couldn’t move. You only had three words left. 

“You’re Bucky Barnes,” you whispered in terror.

Chapter 8

[me-sploh-rada-imas]

(in case tumblr ate it) jance, 17 🥰

yes it seems it did😔 here's what i was going to reply to you haha

tysm for your request jo 💜💜💜 i really enjoyed writing it!

also posted to ao3 here

He may not have known him for very long, but Jan has never seen Nace this nervous before. Yes, he had been shy when they first met (though Jan was shyer), yes he had been on edge before his first gig with them, yes he’d been quiet in the studio while they were recording Carpe Diem. Now, though, he isn’t tense and reticent, as he usually is when he’s anxious. No; he’s pacing up and down in the heavy silence of the RTV’s dressing room wringing his hands, jumping every time any of the others say or do anything, fiddling with the hem of his jacket, smoothing down his hair obsessively. These are nervous tics Jan has never seen from him before and it’s making him restless too. Watching Nace, he is filled with the urge to go over and wrap him in a crushing hug, as though he can leech away all his stress and anticipation with one touch.

Jan is used to taking comfort in Nace’s presence. He knows too that Nace takes comfort in him. They’ve been slowly exploring the something between them for the past few months, unable to hold back despite the knowledge that entering a relationship with a bandmate can get messy. He doesn’t want to rush things, doesn’t want to rock the boat, to overstep a boundary and cause an explosion. But he can’t sit here and watch Nace get more and more wound up with nerves just as they’re meant to go on stage.

Before he’s quite decided what the plan is, Jan suddenly finds himself standing. The other four all turn to face him and he almost shrinks under the combined weight of their attention, but he’s desperate for a moment alone with Nace, so he steels himself and gestures vaguely at Bojan, Kris, and Jure.

“You three, out,” he says abruptly, not quite able to make eye contact with any of them. He expects some kind of resistance, perhaps from Bojan, but they all obey him without a word, and he watches them leave in his peripheral vision from where he’s looking at the floor. There are a few brief moments after the door swings closed behind Kris in which neither Jan nor Nace say anything, and then Jan turns around. 

Nace looks somehow even more nervous now it’s just the two of them; he’s holding onto the back of the chair next to him as though he might fall over without its support. At the sight of him, Jan no longer has any qualms about what is needed and he crosses the floor without a word to gather Nace into his arms. Nace relaxes into him immediately, holding him tightly back, tipping his head down so his forehead is resting on Jan’s shoulder. They stand like this for several minutes, impossibly close and yet not close enough. Jan hopes that Nace is as calmed and reassured by the contact, by Jan’s warmth and familiar smell, as Jan is by him. He only loosens his grip when Nace stops shaking and steps back far enough that they can see each other’s faces, though he keeps his arms slung around Nace’s neck so he can’t pull too far away.

“Want to talk about it?”

Nace opens his mouth to answer but can’t find the words. Jan doesn’t interrupt, just gives Nace time to formulate what he’s trying to say. It takes a few long minutes, but eventually Nace is able to articulate himself. “It’s the first project I’ve worked on with you guys,” he says slowly, eyes downcast. “What if the fans don’t like my influence on your sound? What if they don’t think I fit your image?”

Jan leans in and bumps his forehead reassuringly against Nace’s. “Fuck the fans,” he says lowly, and it startles a laugh out of Nace. The sound makes something twist in Jan’s stomach. He loves hearing Nace laugh, loves the way he has so much joy to share and isn’t afraid of expressing it. “I mean it,” he repeats. “We like the way you create with us, we love this song. If our current fans don’t like it or don’t like you, then fuck them; we’ll make plenty of new fans through Eurovision.” 

Neither of them are as ambitious as Bojan and Kris are regarding fame or global exposure, but they all decided to go on this journey knowing that was the plan. Jan’s always been in it for the music; the unparalleled joy of creating music, those magical moments on stage when he becomes the music. But he can’t let Nace be afraid of their Eurovision journey before it’s even started.

Nace is still anxious and Jan can tell. He wants to address the other question Nace had posed, to reassure him, but now it’s his turn to be tongue tied and nervous. He wants to tell Nace how attractive he is, how his smile makes Jan’s heart skip a beat, that he wants to map Nace’s skin with his tongue and teeth, that he’s desperate to learn how to take him apart with just a few touches. But they’re taking it slow, trying not to rush into things, even though Jan knows his traitorous heart isn’t listening to reason.

So he does the only thing he can to ensure his tongue won’t betray his feelings; he steps back into Nace’s personal space and kisses him fiercely.

No matter how many times they kiss, Jan knows he will never tire of it. His entire universe at this moment is the heat of Nace’s mouth, the taste of him, the way he’s threading his fingers through Jan’s hair and sliding a hand down his back to pull him closer. Nace is pliant under Jan’s hands and tongue, willing to cede all control and let Jan do what he wants to him, and what Jan wants is to take him apart, to make him forget all traces of his nervousness for their upcoming performance. But they’re in their shared dressing room, where their bandmates or frankly anyone else could walk in, and as desperately as he wants to let go of all his inhibitions, he knows that would be far too reckless, and so, reluctantly, he pulls away. They’re both panting and a little unsteady on their feet, and Jan opens his eyes to take in Nace’s flushed cheeks and kiss-bruised lips. Willpower alone stops him from leaning back in to finish what they’ve started, and he can see clearly in Nace’s face the same desire.

“Was that a good enough distraction?” Jan asks, his voice unexpectedly husky.

“It wasn’t bad,” Nace admits breathlessly, and Jan can hear the smile in his voice. After a few long moments, Nace releases his tight grip on Jan’s shirt and steps back far enough that they can see themselves in the mirror. All Jan can think is that they’re lucky they haven’t gone to hair and make-up yet; they’re both so dishevelled that it’s obvious what they’ve been up to even without any telltale traces of smudged foundation. Nace reaches up to smooth down Jan’s hair again, and Jan leans instinctively into his touch. “I think we’ve got a different problem now,” Nace says wryly, and Jan is inclined to agree. Bojan, Kris, and Jure will surely be back any moment now and they’ll be sent off to hair and make-up; they can only hope their racing hearts will have time to slow before they’re called on stage.

[clearlydiamondz]

The Game

Erik!Stevens X Black!Reader

Part Seven

- - - - - - - - - -  

Erik being the most popular person at  Texas Southern University, he has his heart set on a particular girl.

Warnings: SMUT

- - - - - - - - - -    

At the next practice, she was more than ready to say what she had to say. All of her teammates heard about the talking Coach Ruby gave her, and they also knew about the meeting that she would be holding as co-captain. 

“Alright girls, huddle around!” The coach responded. The girls moved from their formations and sat in front of the mirror. “It has come to my attention that a couple of girls on the team are displeased with the drama going around the team. Rightfully so, you should have a moment to talk to your captain and co-captain about these issues so we can be united as a group. So, here is your co-captain to hear and talk to you guys about these concerns.

She walked to the front of the room as some girl’s posture changed in regards to being able to have a talk with her. 

“So, the coach has come to me with these concerns that the team is having and as co-captain, I promised that I will take each and every opinion and fact that you guys have to say about this situation.” she started as she looked around the room. “It’s no secret that Erik Stevens and I have started to date. And knowing the history and the past that was caused because of him, I would like to know what these concerns are face to face so we can have a team talk instead of talking among each other about me and my decisions.”

It was silent before Mirah raised her hand. “What’s up?”

“So, with all that you know what he did to not only me but Aliyah and some other girls, why would you think it would be appropriate as co-captain to date him?” she asked tilting her head. Obviously, she was trying to be smart, but (Y/N) was Einstein. 

“Thanks, Mirah. So, before we started dating, I told him that I didn’t want to date because of the drama. We chose to be friends until he spoke his truth and with my judgment, I declared he was telling the truth. The both of us had some conversations about not only the drama but the past relationships that were formed on this team. He stated that the ONLY relationship other than me was with Aliyah.” she responded confidently as Mirah scoffed and the girls laughed.

“Yeah, and he’s lying.”

“Can you prove it?” (Y/N) asked. 

“What?”

“Can you prove it? DM’s, messages, pictures, whatever proof you have. Can I see it? Because I promise you I can go tic for tac with you.” she said pulling out her phone. 

“Why would I keep old photos and messages of a nigga I used to mess with?” she snapped. 

“Language! Let’s keep it respectful, we are teammates remember?” Coach Ruby reminded her. 

“Oh no, I believe that you don’t have the messages. Like I said I can go tic for tac with you because he let me have access to his Instagram DM’s,” she said pulling up her Instagram. A couple of the girl’s faces dropped as some of them ooohed. 

“Yeah he’s not stupid enough to do that,” she said rolling her eyes as she shrugged. 

“Bet.” she pulled up the DM’s between Erik and her. 

“I think it’s really fucked up how you kissed me last weekend but have been ignoring my messages, especially after Aliyah and I fought. I’ve had feelings for you since last semester-”

“Okay, you know what-” she stood up looking at Coach Ruby. “Are you believing this right now?” she asked as Coach Ruby sighed. 

“I do. She showed me the DM’s... including the ones from two girls on the team who are in this room right now, who shall not be named.” Mirah looked back at her. 

“Real fucking classy co-captain. So much for being a team, reading personal DM’s between-”

“I’m gonna stop you there. You were not worried about being classy when you were taking pictures of us at a party minding our business. Not only that, you guys lied about this poor man and I have the proof that Y'all are lying.” (Y/N) said stuffing her phone in her back pocket. 

“Mirah.. you lied about dating Erik?“ one of the girls said laughing. “Girl, that’s weird.” 

“For real. Why are you so pressed on what (Y/N) is doing?” another teammate said.

“Because it’s trifling! We voted for you as co-captain because we thought you were responsible! And now here you go getting fooled up with him. Ever since you guys started dating you’ve been slacking as co-captain and I’m sick of it!” she snapped. (Y/N) looked at Coach Ruby then back to her. 

“So give me an estimate on when I started acting horribly as a co-captain,” she said crossing her shoulders. 

“For about a month! Around the same time y’all started talking!” she snapped. “Our routines have been offbeat, everyone instead of worrying about our competitions, they are sitting around gossiping about you!” (Y/N) looked again at Coach Ruby with an ‘I told you’ so look on her face. Coach Ruby sighed and then said, 

“That’s not true. Mirah sit down.” 

“No! You guys are sitting up here letting our team go to complete hell for what!? I’ll say it because everyone is afraid to say it. Ever since you and Erik have been fucking with each other, for the past month our team chemistry has been horrible and it’s your fault!” she snapped. 

“So I guess my theory was the right coach.” (Y/N) chuckled. 

“I’m afraid it was.” 

“What are you guys even talking about?” One of the girls spoke up. 

“How many other people think that for the past month since I and Erik have been dating that team chemistry has been down?” Five girls out of the rest of them raised their hands. Of course, they were friends of Mirah. Kia and Brandy started to laugh knowing what was about to come up.

“Kay, why do you think that?” she said picking one of the random girls with her hands up.

“I feel like since you got with Erik, our team has not been a priority for you in the past month.“

“And let me get this straight because I don’t want to miss interpret what you’re saying. So in August, September, and mid-October I’ve been focused and doing right by the team. Then Erik came along around mid-October and everything has been a, excuse my language, a shit show.” (Y/N) said as the collective of girls nodded.”And because Erik and I have started dating since last month, from then and now our team has been going down, because I am letting him influence me.” she clearly said. 

“Exactly! Thank you. At the beginning of the semester, we started off strong. Our dancing was great, we were damn near perfect.” Mirah exclaimed, which only made her chuckle. “I don’t see what’s funny since you are putting our team in jeopardy, (Y/N).” she snapped at her. 

“No, it’s funny because Erik and I have been talking since Mid august and made it official in September. We only made it public a week ago so I’m gonna assume you caught wind from a specific ex-member that I’ve been messing with her ex for the last month.” 

“Oh my god, why the fuck are you lying! You know damn fucking well y’all weren’t messing with each other. You’re only saying that to deflect what you’ve been doing to our team!” she yelled at her. 

“No, no. She’s telling the truth. They’ve slept at each other house, went on cute little dates and everything,” Brandy said matter-of-factly. “The two of them even came together for some of our movie nights” she finished.

“And unlike you, I have pictures and messages going back all the way to the night I had my first conversation with him and from then on. You felt upset and you ran to Coach because you thought she was going to get on me for dating him,” she replied as the team got quiet. 

“Yeah because I was worried about the team! He’s caused so much drama, which has affected our team negatively!”

“Okay Mirah but if you cared so much about our team and what he was doing to it, why were you in his DM’s complaining about him ignoring you?” she asked her. Everyone looked at her for an answer but she didn’t have one. 

“This what it seems to me. If this statement is true about our team slacking, it’s not because of you’re co-captain is messing with this boy, but because y’all are pressed on what they are doing to even focus on your own stuff.” Coach Ruby said defending her. “She has proven that she’s been doing great with balancing both the team and him because y’all didn’t even know they were dating within that time our team has been so-called perfect.” Coach Ruby shrugged. 

“Really what the problem is that y’all are lying, and keeping rumors up after finding out about this relationship.”

“Coach Ruby no one is worried about their little relationship. Trust and believe that. I only had my team in mind.” she snapped.

“Mirah.. just sit down. Stop embarrassing yourself. We will forget this happened.” The other teammate laughed. Knowing damn well they were going to talk about it for days. 

“No fuck y’all.” she stormed out of the hall before Coach Ruby came up. 

“Now, does anyone else feel like they have an issue with their co-captain dating Stevens.” no one raised their hand. “Alright, his name will not be discussed from here on out in this room. Y’all are dismissed.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

Erik was now home from the gym, waiting on a call back from (Y/N). He was proud of her for finally standing up for herself against everyone and not being afraid of the outcome. He noticed that ever since she got with him, she’s been more confident in standing up for herself.

Even Omariana noticed the change, and she was here for it. She considered (Y/N) her little sister. Whenever someone had an issue with (Y/N) or said anything disrespectful towards her, Omariana would be right there to check on anyone. She was happy that (Y/N) was finally finding her voice.  

As Erik was unpacking his gym bag, he heard a knock at his front door. No one that he knew texted him to tell him that he was on his way. He got up going to the peephole at the door to see (Y/N) standing there with two take-out plates, her book bag, a duffel bag, and a drink carrier with two milkshakes. 

“I know you see me, open up the door! I got a lot of shit in my hand!” she exclaimed. He immediately unlocked the door helping her by grabbing her duffel bag and the milkshakes as she let out a sigh of relief. 

“I ain’t know you were coming over here,” he said kissing her on the shoulder and placing her duffel bag right next to his gym bag. 

“Yeah, it was a last-minute decision. I stopped and grabbed us some wings for dinner and a milkshake at the food truck on campus,” she said taking off her Crocs. She walked to his counter placed all the other stuff and turned to look at him. He walked over and placed the items he grabbed off of her and placed them on the counter. 

“You don’t mind me coming right? I wasn’t sure if you were busy or not this weekend and I really need some alone time to study for my midterms and-” he stopped her rambling by reaching behind her and grabbing her ass, and grabbing a little bit of her pussy from the back. 

“You know I don’t care about you coming over here. When was the last time I had a taste of you?” he whispered in her as she bit her lip. 

“It’s been bout a week or two.” she moaned as he let her go, not before slapping her ass. 

“Yeah, I hope yo ass know what’s up,” he said taking off his tank top. His muscles were a lot more toned, her figuring that it was probably because he just got back from the gym. Which means his libido is through the roof. His hands traced the outside of her tights as she leaned against the counter. 

“And if I don’t?”

“You gonna figure it out real quick. Matter of fact-” he picked her up and placed her on the counter, catching her off guard as she squealed. 

“Wait, Erik, I need to take a shower. I just came from practice,” she said pushing his head away as he moved it. 

“Oh, would you look at that? I just came back from the gym and need a shower too,” he said picking her up. 

“Aht aht. I wanna eat my food before it gets cold nigga, damn.” she laughed as he placed her back on the floor kissing his teeth. 

“Don’t act like you don’t want my face between your legs,” he said walking passed her and grabbing both their bags as she grabbed her food and milkshake. 

“I wanna eat first. And take a shower,” she said grabbing a fry and eating it. 

“That’s fine. Just wait. I got something for your ass.” he said walking past the kitchen and into his room. It’s been damn near two weeks since they last touched each other. She wasn’t gonna lie and say that she didn’t want him. She needed him. With their busy schedules, it was almost impossible. With exams coming up, and the lack of competitions, practices, and events, she had a break this weekend. 

He eventually came out and started eating his dinner but she was done with hers. “Okay, I’ma jump in the shower now,” she said throwing her stuff in the trash. “Where did you put my bag, my soap and stuff are in there.” she said as he turned to look at her. Swallowing what he had in his mouth he said, 

“Yeah, I bought the same stuff you bring over here,” he said taking a drink from his milkshake. She looked at him shocked and said, 

“When?” 

“Like a week ago, I found it all on Amazon and just ordered it so you don’t have to bring that stuff from home,” he said taking another bite from his shoulder. 

“Oh,” she said looking him in his eyes. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” she didn’t know what to say, but she knew what she wanted to do. She was going to completely fuck the shit outta him. 

________

After Erik finished up his food, he decided to join her in the shower. He took off his clothes placing them in the dirty hamper, and also placing her clothes that he saw on the bathroom floor in there. Might as well wash them so she could have some clothes over here, he thought. 

He slid the shower door open as she turned around rinsing the soap off her body. “That was quick,” she said moving over so he could get some water. He lathered up with his rag and soap and started to move across his body as she leaned against the shower. 

“Yeah.. because there were some things I wanted to do before you got out,” he said placing the rag and bottle of soap on the shower rack. 

“What’s that?”

 He leaned into her, placing kisses a long her shoulder and neck, whispering in her ear. “Playing with this pussy for starters.” his hands slipped between her thighs as she slowly spread her legs for him to have more room. “Such a good slut, opening up your legs for daddy.” he whispered biting her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders looking him straight in the eyes. 

“I’m your slut.” she said as he smirked at her. He back away letting the water run down his dreads. She took a look at him, drinking him all in. The water running down his chest, to his abs, to his dick with water droplets falling off it. All she wanted to really do was just suck the water off then have it down her throat. 

So she grabbed his dick with one hand and his arm with the other pulling him closer to her as he tilted his head. She went into a squat position as his eyes followed her every movement. She stuck her tongue out, licking along his dick, letting the water hit her tongue as well before placing his who tip in her mouth slowly sucking it. 

“Fuck.. I love when you tease this dick baby.” he whispered as she moaned against it, making him throw his head back. “My dick belong all in the back of that nasty ass throat don’t it?” he asked her as she slowly took every inch of him. 

She moaned in agreement as he bought his bottom lip between his teeth. He grabbed her chin as she placed her mouth open for him to slowly fuck her throat. She gagged as spit covered his dick but he didn’t stop, it wasn’t like she wanted him to either. 

“That’s it...” he moaned out. “Nasty fucking bitch.” he went faster as she looked him in the eyes, as he looked back down at her. Her fingers played with her nipples, the sight alone making him harder if it was possible. 

She took matters into her own hands as she wrapped her hand around the base of his dick, sliding it up and down as he fucked her throat faster. 

He grabbed her throat bringing her up to her feet before giving her a tongue filled wet kiss. His hands trailed up her stomach to her breast, pinching her nipples as she gasped. 

“Go to the bed. Ima be with you in a minute.” Was all he said before she gave him one last look. She stepped out grabbing a towel and walking to his room. The cool air hit her wet skin as she dried off in his room, hearing the shower still going. Quickly, she dried herself then moisturized and oiled herself down. She heard the shower turn off and the shower door open. 

She got into the middle of his unmade bed, getting in a face down ass up position. She heard him come in, not being able to see him since she was facing the opposite way. “Yeah... I like that.” he said walking behind her. He softly traced his finger tips along her spread lips, slightly applying preasure when he came across her clit. “I barely touched you and your leaking on my fingers.” he said licking the wetness up. 

“Daddy can you please touch me?” she whimpered. The throbbing of her pussy was killing her, Erik on the other hand was enjoying it.

“I think seeing you like this is my new favorite thing. Look at that pussy begging to be touched.” he said grabbing one ass cheek, spreading it a little to see her pussy drip. “I can see it throbbing.” he chuckled before grabbing a fist full of her hair. “Beg me to touch you and I might just do it.” 

“Pretty please daddy. I miss cumming on your tongue and lips. You made my pussy feel so good and I want that again.” she pouted. He sat on his knees, pulling her to his face so looked up at him with her back facing his chest. With his other hand, he spread out her pussy lips rubbing circles around her clit. She moaned out, gripping the sheets as he went faster. 

“Ooh Erik...” she moaned as he bit her shoulder, then placed a kiss on it. 

“There you go.. give me that nut.” he whispered to her. “You so pretty. You know that? You look so fucking beautiful giving up this pussy like this.” he taunted her. 

“Damn, im cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” she repeated over and over as her climax lasted longer than expected. He kept rubbing the sensitive but at the same rate not stopping, even though both his sheets and hands was covered. “Okay daddy.. I get it.” she moaned as he stopped, smacking her ass. 

“What did I say? Didn’t I say I had something for your ass.” he stepped away as she fell onto her stomach into the bed. He stepped off the bed, pulling her ankles along with him. He then flipped her onto her back, yanking her till her bottom half was hanging off the bed, him having a grasp on her hips. She looked down and saw a towel barley hanging around his waist, and his dick pressed against her thigh. Without a second though, she grabbed it through the towel biting her lips. She saw his jaw clench as the grip on her thighs tighten. 

“Yeah you a hoe for the dick ain’t you.” he smirked at he stood up straight, his dick hitting her pussy a few times. 

“Mhmm.” she mumbled waiting for him to touch it as he slapped her clit. She winced at the pain, but soon after a moment of pleasure came. 

“Use your words mama.” he whispered. “I said you a hoe for this dick right?” he said rubbing his tip against her clip as she eagerly nodded. 

“Fuck, yes daddy.” she moaned out throwing her head back. 

“You know how I like eating this pussy. Get in position.” he said stepping back. She pulled her ankles to the side of her head, as he stared directly into her eyes. She sat there with her legs in a V shape, his eyes slowly trailing down her body, his eyes halting when he seen her pussy. Clit swollen, pussy lips spread, wetness spread all over. 

“Such a pretty pussy.” he said tracing the tip of his fingers on her lips. He saw her pussy clench, more wetness forming as he chuckled. 

“I’m barely touching and your pussy is getting wetter. She must want daddy to eat her.” he said kneeling down as she nodded with a bite of her lip. 

“She does daddy. She misses you.” He smirked licking her one time as she gasped at the sensation. He placed a kiss on her clit before sucking on it. She moaned at the new pressure, his tongue taking random licks to collect the wetness she was producing. 

“Erik..” she moaned as he looked up at her. Her legs were shaking as her eyes were closed towards the ceiling. He pulled away whispering a fuck to himself, as his fingers found their way to their entrance.He inserted his middle and ring finger curving upward in a come here motion before putting his lips back on her clit. 

“Eat my pussy just like that..” she whispered sitting up, her body bouncing with every movement Erik made. 

“Pussy gripping the fuck outta a nigga fingers.” he smirked pulling away from the clit but still fingering her.

“You gonna make me bust again daddy.” she mumbled, but he heard her. Her squirt went all over his hand and forearm, him catching what he could with his tongue licking her up. With his fingers still inside her pussy, he said, “Will you grip my dick with this pussy just like this?” he whispered tilting his head to the side. 

“If I do, I’m squirting again.” she said letting go of her legs. He stood up straight again before telling her, 

“Get back in the middle of the bed.” she crawled backwards onto the bed, still facing him as he followed her on to the bed. Getting between her legs, he pushed her knees to her chest as he rubbed his tip against her pussy. 

He let out a dragged out ,“Fuuuck”, as her pussy clenched around his inches as he pushed further.

“Oh my-” her voice broke off as his dick massaged her walls, slowly creeping up to her G-Spot. 

“Fuck, there you go. Just give up the pussy like this.” he whispered in her ear as she moaned. She moved her hand towards her clit, rubbing it in circles as her mouth shot open. He took the advantage to grab her throat, slightly choking her and kissing her in the mouth. Another sloppy kiss endured between the two, as his paced went a little faster. 

“Ooh ima nut..” she whispered, her juices splashing against the two of them as she moaned loudly. He continued fucking her till every single dropped came from her her entire body shook.

“Lemme get this shit from the back.” he said flipping her over. She got onto her knees, arching as best as she could. 

“This beautiful ass.” he whispered smacking her ass a few times, then spreading her cheeks, to see her pussy spread once again. “Beautiful pussy.” he whispered to himself as he put his face between her ass, licking up and down her ass to her pussy slowly. 

“Fuck daddy your so nasty..” she smiled, the nice sensation making her pussy wetter, another climax in need. 

“Let daddy clean up the mess you made. Taste so fucking good too.” he said pulling away and smacking her cheeks. He spat on her pussy, before licking it up, the action throwing her off guard but she knew she loved it. He got back on his knees, alighning himself up to her entrance. He slowly pushed himself onto her as she gripped the shit. 

“This pussy...” he sighed as she groaned.

“Big ass dick... you’re fucking stretching my pussy..” she whispered as he smacked her ass. 

“Work your ass on this dick. Show daddy how much of a nasty slut you can be bitch.” he said. She started to move her way on the dick as he sat there, letting her fuck him. She started to only fuck the tip as he threw his head back in pleasure. 

“C’mon... fuck that dick how you want it.”

That’s was all the motivation she needed. Within seconds she was throwing nothing but ass and pussy on him, the wet sounds turning them both on. 

“You like when I fuck this big dick daddy. My wet tight pussy on this big dick.” she moaned at him as he rolled his eyes shut. 

“Daddy loves this wet tight pussy. You know how to handle this big dick like a big girl.” he encouraged her. The talking mixed with her g-spot hitting the tip of his dick, she was squirting again. 

But she didn’t stop. She kept fucking him through her nut as he smacked her ass. “What the fuck? You just squirted all over my shit and you gonna keep fucking me?” he said smacking her ass as she gasped.

“I don’t want to stop fucking this dick.. Ooh I’m gonna squirt again.” This time it was a mixture of both squirt and cream as he looked down at their connection. Her ass was now covered in her squirt and her cream, as she just continued to fuck herself. 

“Such a desperate whore, no matter how many times you come on my dick you gonna make sure make daddy nut.” he said meeting her match. Her eyes shot open as her pace slowed down. “Aht aht, Don’t fucking stop now- GET YOUR ASS UP!” he snapped as her arch began to fall. 

“You were just fucking me with no regards to how many times you came, not let me fuck this pussy.” he said putting her back in position. He pushed his way into her as she gasped. 

“Oh my God, daddy cum please. My pussy!” 

“Fuuck I’m close.”

“I want your nut daddy..” she whispered as he threw his head back. 

“Fuuck don’t say that. Please don’t fucking say that.” he moaned going faster. 

“My pussy want that fat nut please.” she whimpered. 

“Oh shit I-”

“Cum in my pussy daddy.”

Right on cue, he painted her walls as he continued to fuck her. He pulled out roughly as she fell onto the bed. “That pussy looks so fucking...” he couldn’t phathom a sentence to say looking at his cum ooze out of her pretty little pussy. He jiggled ass before running to the bathroom and grabbing soap and water to clean her up. 

“I’ma need a nap.” she yawned crawling up the bed as he stopped her. 

“Damn I wore your ass out.” he laughed. He was still wide awake, “Lemme change the sheets out.” he said grabbing a pair of grey sweat shorts out of the drawers. He grabbed one of his black hoodies, placing it onto her before getting the bed prepared.

______________________

It was now 7 o’clock and they were both deep into their nap. (Y/N)’s phone rang waking the two of them up. She grabbed her phone pulling it up to her ear, not looking at the caller ID. “Hello..” she yawned. 

“Well it’s nice to know you are alive. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” she immediately knew it was her mother. She rolled her eyes not wanting to talk to her. 

“You already know why.”

“Just because I didn’t go to some foolish games to watch you shake your ass. No thank you. You knew I was against you on the damn team anyways, just embarrassing me in the church.” her mother snapped. 

“And you wonder why I don’t answer your phone calls.” she sat up, Erik looking at her get up out of the bed. She went into her duffel bag grabbing a pair of underwear and placing them on as Erik turned on his LED lights. 

“Don’t talk back to me. The hell is wrong with you. All I was going to ask is if you were coming home for Christmas break. CJ met a girl on this dating app, and I invited her for dinner.” she looked confused. A girl dating CJ was the last thing she was expecting. 

“Yeah.. I guess. I have to pick up some papers anyways.”

“And I want you to invite that boy you been messing around with.” her mother said, making her freeze. 

“I don’t think I can do that.” she said as her mom scoffed. 

“What? Y’all broke up? See I knew it wouldn’t last long-” 

“No we didn’t break up. We are together.” she rolled her eyes. Erik connected the two and figured that they were talking about him. He sat at the foot of the bed saying, 

“Who is that?”

“My mom.” she mouthed as he tilted his head in confusion. 

“So what can’t he come? You don’t want me to meet him or something?” she scratched her forehead before saying, 

“Have you thought that maybe he has a family of his own?” she said as Erik told her to put it on speaker. She placed the phone on speaker, 

“Well I just think it’s suspicious that you have a so called ‘boyfriend’ and I haven’t seen a picture of him. Seems to me like you're faking the-” 

“Actually hello ma’am. I’m right here.” Erik spoke up as she looked at him in shock. 

“Oh well ain’t this a surprise. And what is your name?”

“My name is Erik Stevens.” he said.

“Hmm, I think she told me about you before she rudely stopped answering my calls. You ain’t tired of her yet, are you? You can be honest because I know how it is around her.” he looked at the phone then to (Y/N) in confusion.

“No, actually. She’s been truly a blessing to know ma’am.” he said. The phone got quiet as her eyes went up in annoyance. 

“So is it true that you can’t come for dinner. I’d like to meet the boy my daughter is so called dating.” 

“Actually I would like to meet her family.” he said as she scoffed. 

“Wow, so she lied. Thought I’d raised her better but oh well. Well, I’ll be happy to meet you. Now you have a nice night.” Erik assumed that she would say bye to her daughter but she hang up the phone. 

“You don’t look happy that I’ma meet your parents.” he said as she threw the phone on the bed. 

“My father, sure. My mother and step-father, hell no.” she said sitting on the bed. 

“I moved in with my dad when they got divorced. Even at the age of 12, I could tell she was mean and manipulative.” she then looked at him. “No one told you to say anything by the way,” she said getting up as he grabbed her hand. 

“Aht, don’t walk away. I thought I was being nice.” he defended himself. She sighed grabbing his hand. 

“I know, it’s just you don’t know my mom. She will try to say and do anything for you not to like me. She has all that animosity till this day because I wanted to go live with my daddy.” she rolled her eyes. “And she’s always had this weird competition between the two of us. It’s fucking weird, and she wonders why I barely talk with her.”

“Well how about this.. I’ll find us a nice hotel so we don’t have to stay anywhere, we can leave her house anytime we want, and hell if it calls for it we can spend Christmas together.” He reassured her as she smiled. 

“Wait, what about your family.” 

“It’s okay. They can miss out on a Christmas,” he whispered

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  _ _ _ 

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[elocinnicole]

Much Needed Break

Much Needed Break

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: 18+ SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected sex, foreplay)

Requested: No

Summary: Starting to feel burnt out and Reader gets a surprise from Daveed.

Note: I’ve been writing like crazy y’all. These past few fics have been WIP’s that have been collecting dust on my laptop. I took a sick day earlier this week and have been finishing up these WIPs I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3K

Whoever said being a Mom is a beautiful experience, fucking lied. Never in your life have you wanted to be more alone than this moment right now. Daniel had a meltdown in the middle of the store because they were sold out his favorite cereal and refused to pick a different one. Ari has been going through diapers like tic-tacs. The last pregnancy you couldn’t produce enough milk, now it seems like you had to pump every hour or you’ll start leaking through your clothes. You were still healing from your C-Section with Ari which made dealing with everything that much more painful. The plan was to have a home birth but Ari was breech which made you have the C-Section and pushed back you filming the newest season of Bridgerton.

“Maybe you need a break.” Jasmine suggested

“I mean Daveed’s movie premiere is tomorrow. We got a hotel for the night.”

“No, that is not a break. You need a getaway with your husband.”

“I don’t know, I don’t have the time and I feel like even if we do go on a trip, I’m gonna be too tired to do anything.” You’re finding it harder and harder to get up each morning, since Daveed is in the middle of filming his days were early and long. Meaning he wasn’t there to help you in the morning with the kids. You really didn’t want to hire anybody but maybe you need to, at least until you’ve finished filming.

“My Fenty came in today so I thought I could put it on and see what happens.”

“See what happens? Girl I ain’t know it was this bad. You need to get that back broke like a glow stick.”

“When do we have the time Jazz? Between the Bluey marathon or Gracie’s Corner?”

“That’s a start but I still think the two of you need a break. Mainly you.”

“We’re getting a hotel tomorrow.” You reasoned

“Girl, a break from the kids, LA, your house.”

“Maybe you’re right, I’ll talk to Daveed about it.”

“I am. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright girl, bye.”

You heard a car door shut, and eagerly ran downstairs to get ready. You’ve been missing, Daveed…a lot. Not only were you filming a show, but you’re also only four months postpartum, adjusting to being parents for two under the age of five, and Daveed filming his movie over seas, the time to be intimate was almost nonexistent. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself and Daveed a glass of wine before heading back upstairs to wait for him. The kids were asleep, candles were lit, you had a bath waiting for the two of you upstairs. You had everything planned.

You waited and waited for Daveed to come upstairs, but it’s already been ten minutes. You tried to stay awake but the exhaustion from your busy day took over and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, there was a blanket placed over you and the wine glasses from last night were gone. You got out of bed you glanced at the clock, and it was only 8:00 AM. You checked on Daniel and Ari, and they were already out of bed. Daveed must’ve taken them downstairs.

You walked into the kitchen, and you should’ve been grateful to see your husband making breakfast but the only thing you could think about is the mess he’s making while doing it.

“Morning! I didn’t want to walk you, Ari was fussy, so I gave her a bath. By then, Daniel was already up so I figured we’d get breakfast started.”

“We made you breakfast, Mommy.” Daniel smiled; face covered in syrup. Daveed smiled you tried to return it, but you walked over to the highchairs where your children were nestled safely, kissing their foreheads. You made yourself a cup of coffee and went to sit in the sunroom alone.

You were torn at your feelings; you’ve been waiting for the day when Daveed woke up with you and had breakfast as a family. The one thing you wanted to do right now had some peace and quiet to yourself. You’ve been in Mommy mode for the last three years and you were exhausted.  Not that Daveed wasn’t present, but you were the one who got the phone calls from daycare, took Daniel to the dentist and doctor. Ari was breastfed and since Daveed started filming soon after she was born, she was a “Mommy’s Girl”. Which left you very little time to be alone as Ari would refuse to go to anyone even sometimes Daveed.

“I made you a plate.” You turned to see Daveed standing in the doorway with a breakfast tray for you. You felt a pang of guilt, Daveed probably wanted to spend time with you but then you remembered that Daveed didn’t come to bed last night.

“Thanks.”    

“Babe—”

“What did you do last night when you came home?”

“I-I was uh…playing video games?”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a question, were you or weren’t you?”

“I was, it was a long day and I needed to unwind.”

“Okay, thanks for the breakfast.” You said, unsatisfied with his answer.

“Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t come to bed sooner. By the time I came up you were already sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know you had planned something—”

“It’s okay,” No it wasn’t. “Thanks for breakfast.” You grabbed the plate from Daveed.

“Babe,”

“Thanks for the breakfast.”

Daveed can admit it, his schedule has been busy for the past few weeks, to be honest, months. It’s taken time away from not only you but the kids. Not that you weren’t happy for him, his movie is expected to generate a lot of Oscar buzz and he has to do press. Daveed tried to make up for it by calling and facetiming you and the kids often, but that still doesn’t make you miss him any less or him feel less guilty. 

Today he was home, the official premier of his movie is tonight. The plan would be you and Daveed we get a hotel in the city with the kids. While you two were out, Nicolette and Jasmine were going to watch the kids. Then, back to the hotel for the night and check out the following morning. This would be the first night in a long time that you and Daveed were going out, just the two of you. You wished it wasn’t a LA movie premier but, nonetheless, it would be your fist night without the kids, sorta. You’ve never gotten dressed for an event with both Daniel and Ari though, you’ve done it plenty of times with Daniel but now you have him and Ari.

The easy going morning was short-lived as you stated getting ready to leave for the hotel. Daveed had gone to get something he needed from the store. You urged him to have it delivered but he just had to go. Leaving you with the kids. Alone. Again. You put both of them down for a nap so you could pack in peace. You were currently in Daniel’s room getting his bag together. A series of rapid knocks and the doorbell ringing pulled you out of your thoughts. You instantly groaned,

“Who the hell is that?” You mumbled to yourself. You dragged your feet down the hall and down the steps. You opened the door and weren’t ready to see your friends standing on the other side.

“What the hell?”

“Are you gonna invite us in or?” Nicolette asked.

“Uh, yeah come in. What are you guys doing we’re supposed to meet you at the hotel.”

“We know, Daveed called us last night.” Jasmine explained.

“Last night?”

“Yes, so go upstairs. Daveed’s gonna be here in like five minutes.” Jasmine urged.

“I’m not packed! I was getting the kids stuff together.”

“Daveed packed your bags for you. Put something on he’ll be here soon!”

You went upstairs to your bedroom and sure enough, Daveed had your bags packed you frowned at the luggage he used. Maybe he packed both of your things together. You threw on your favorite lounge set and some sneakers. You went back downstairs, luggage in tow to see Jasmine and Emmy playing with Daniel and Ari.

Not wanting to draw attention you waved silently left to meet Daveed outside. You smiled upon seeing your husband waiting outside the car for you. Forgetting about your luggage, you run up to Daveed and jumped into his arms.

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“Being a bitch this morning.”

“I’m to blame for that, I know I haven’t been around—”

“It’s not your fault,”

“It kinda is, so we’re flying to France for the premier there.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, also I want to show off the woman that’s been holding me down for the last six years.”

“What about the premiere tonight?”

“We’re not going, we’re going to the airport tonight. But we only have five hours so I’m gonna send you off to your nails and hair done and then we’re going to the airport.”

“Daveed—” he cut you off with a kiss

“I’ll see you later. I’ll finish up here.”

Right after your pamper session, you and Daveed were on a first-class plane ride to France.

You still don’t know how Daveed managed to get this all set up in a little bit of time he had. Daveed prepared a full afternoon for you as soon as you landed, a private couple massage in the hotel room he booked, lunch brought to the room and a facial. The premier wasn’t until the next day, but Daveed wanted to pamper you to the fullest. He was out doing some last-minute things so you took this time to call Jasmine and Nicolette.

“Girl I wish I had a husband like yours.” Jasmie joked

“I know I might have to let him get some ass tonight. He’s been asking since we got together.”

“Girl you gonna have to do a split on it.” Nicolette teased

“Make a whole movie.”

“What’s your new Porn Star name girl?”

“Shut up, how are my babies?”

“Ari’s been up since 7:30, Daniel’s still sleep. We’re about to wake him up and give them breakfast.”

“Is Ari okay?”

“She was fussy last night but we got her to lie down. Daniel’s been fine, girl he hasn’t even asked about you guys.”

“That sounds about right, well I was just calling to check on you guys. Thank y’all so much.”

“Of course! We got you girl, go get dicked down tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, bye!” As soon as you ended the call Daveed entered the room. A fresh bouquet in hand

“Are those for me? Babe, this is entirely too much.”

“I don’t think it’s enough.” Daveed pulled you into a kiss

“Daveed, really this is just…thank you babe.”

“You deserve it.”

“What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Dinner at Substance and then you’ll see after.”

You were amazed at the attention to detail that your husband put into making you feel loved and appreciated in this little bit of time. Some how the two of you had a private dinner a in room away from everyone else. You haven’t spent this much time as a couple since before you had Daniel. Not that you weren’t grateful for the little family that you’ve made but you miss just spending time as husband and wife, but with your growing popularity and life it’s been difficult.

“Promise me, that we won’t lose this when we go back home.” You said

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want the only time we have time together…just the two of us is when you plan these elaborate getaways. I want alone time with you back in LA too.”

“I know I’m partially to blame for that…we’ll do better. I’ll do better to make sure we don’t forget about us.”

“It’s not just you, it’s me too. I love being a mom, but I don’t want to forget how to be the person you fell in love with.”

“Me either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Daveed.” The two met in a loving deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around Daveed’s neck, he pressed his hand against the small of your back pulling you closer, as if that were possible. You pulled away first, breathing heavily.

“Make love to me, Daveed.”

Daveed’s lips never left your skin from time you left the restaurant to now laying against the bed while Daveed took his time undressing you. In the car leaving the restaurant, Daveed teased your clit over you lacy thong while sucking on your neck. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud in the car. It didn’t help in the elevator that Daveed was kneading your ass while waiting to arrive to your floor. His hands and moth were attached to you in some way, driving you crazy. He always stop just short of making you cum, edging you.

“Daveed,” you moaned impatiently

“Wait…” Daveed tenderly took the straps off your shoulders and shimmed the dress down your body happy to only see you wearing a black thong.

“Damn baby just a thong?”

“All for you.” Daveed attacked your neck before making his way to your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth gently biting and sucking in it while he tugs on the other. You cried out in ecstasy, arching your back off the bed. Daveed switched to the other breast offering the same treatment. Your lift your hips, hoping to feel something.

Daveed makes his way down your body, avoiding where you want his mouth the most, instead he kisses your inner thighs.

“I love you so fucking much. You deserve the whole world and if I could give it to you I would. So perfect, beautiful, my wife.” You moaned at the praises mind too foggy to say anything. Daveed opens your legs and moans at the sigh before him, your thong soaking wet from the foreplay. He mouths at your clothed pussy, and you let out the most pornographic moan that went straight to Daveed’s dick.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Daveed…please. I want you.” You breathed.

“You have me, baby.”

“Please…please.”

“Use your words, what do you want?”

“I want…I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“See, how hard was that?” Daveed moves your panties to the side and sucks on your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, pulling on it, causing him to groan.

“Oh, fuck Daveed.” He opens your folds and starts eating you out like it’s his last meal. Daveed could feel your walks squeezing around his tongue, he pulled his tongue away and plunged three fingers in you finding that spot and went back to sucking your clit.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You squealed as your juices flowed into Daveed’s awaiting mouth. You pulled him in for a passionate kiss, teeth clashing against each other. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Desperate for something, you began grinding your hips up against his to feel anything. You started tugging on his clothes, tired of being teased.

“Too many clothes.” Daveed smirked, he loved when you were fucked out and needy. He quickly took off his clothes and threw them to the floor. He hooked his hands under your legs and pulled you toward him. He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip on your folds, you were so wet he could’ve just slipped his dick in but he anted to tease you some more.

“Make love to me. No more teasing.”

“Since you asked me so nicely.” Daveed slowly pushed in until he bottomed out. You moaned at the stretch, it’s been a while since you and Daveed were intimate, but you welcomed the slight pain. Daveed had to compose himself before moving, your pussy hugging his dick so nicely that he almost came at that moment. He placed your legs over his shoulders for a deeper angle making you both groan. When he started thrusting it didn’t take long for. The squelching of his dick going in and out of you was music to your ears. Some days, it was rough and hard, sometimes you only have time for a quickie, but now Daveed wanted to take his time with you and live in this moment forever. There was no rush, no Zoom interview, no five-minute commercial break, just the two of you in this moment.

“Daveed, Daveed,” You clawed at his back as you reached your peak, quicker than you wanted to. Daveed kept the same pace not wanting this to end, holding his own release at bay. You closed your eyes overtaken by the immense pleasure your husband was giving.

“Look at me,” Daveed ordered you opened your eyes and was met with Daveed’s intense stare. “keep looking at me, okay.” You nodded your head gasping as he kept fucking you into your next orgasm.

“Daveed, it’s too much.” Daveed’s slow deep stroke were killing you. You chanted his name over and over like a mantra.

“One more, just give me one more baby. I know you can do it.” Daveed’s thrust were getting sloppy as he was reaching his peak. One more thrust and you came together, your walls squeezing him as he came inside you. You both breathed heavily as you were coming down from your high. After a few moments, Daveed pulled out of you and pulled you close to him.

“Hey,” He breathed, you smiled softly.

“Hey. That was amazing.” You could see the compliment go to your husband’s head and rolled your eyes. You drew lazy circle on his chest.

“Thank you everything.”

“I should be thanking you and I’m sorry for not making you feel appreciated. I love you and I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone else but you.”

“I love you too Daveed.” You shared one final kiss before drifting off to sleep in the arms of your husband.

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb @slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh

[grayox27]

Enamoured (Spencer Reid x gn!reader)🍬

Desc: reader wears their lip piercings to a dinner that Rossi hosts for the team. Spencer finds himself enamoured.

After a long day of work, Rossi had invited everyone over to his house to show everyone those cooking skills he is always bragging about.

You quickly ran home to get ready, debated if you should put in your lip rings, since technically, you weren’t at work. You decided, why the hell not?

Arriving at Rossi’s, you quickly fixed your hair as a nervous tic and knocked on the door, trying to resist the heavy urge to play with tour rings, another nervous habit you had developed.

You were immediately greeted with an already buzzed Garcia, and she giddily ushered you inside. “Ooh I love the new look!” She comments.

“How much have you had to drink already?” You tease. “Umm only a little bit?” She clearly lies. You playfully scoffed at her reply and allowed her to drag you to the kitchen, where the rest of the team were watching Rossi prepare Italian cuisine.

You excitedly took a seat next to Spencer, ignoring Morgan and JJ’s whistles at your current look.

When you turned to have a brief conversation with Spencer, you noticed that he could barely even look at you. When he did, his eyes kept bouncing between your lips and the counter. You frowned, wondering if you had done something wrong.

Before you could question him, Rossi had announced that it was time to dig in, and the delicious dish caused your worries to slip your mind for the moment.

Eventually, you all had migrated to the living room to watch a movie. You had ended up between Prentiss and Hotch.

“Since when have you had those?” Prentiss asked with a smile, gesturing to the jewelry. “Oh I’ve had these for a few years, I just don’t really wear them often anymore” you reply.

“You should, you look good” she compliments. You smile and thank her, before noticing that Spencer was literally across the room from you.

You felt your stomach dip at the thought of upsetting your best friend. You racked your brain over the course of the past few weeks to try to find what could’ve upset him, but you came up empty handed.

You made your way to the kitchen to grab another glass of wine, sighing audibly. “I know that sound” Rossi comments, leaning over the kitchen island. You laughed pitifully at that

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “It’s probably nothing, I’ve just noticed that Spencer has been sort of avoiding me all night” you reply.

He hums, “that is unusual” he comments. “I’m sure everything will be alright, kiddo” he says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before heading back to the living room.

Just as you were about to head out as well, Spencer entered the kitchen. “Hey Spence” you called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah?” He says, noticeably staring at your nose. “Can we talk?” You ask. You knew he hated that phrase but something needed to be done. He agreed and let you lead him outside.

“You’ve been avoiding me all night. I’m really sorry if I’ve done something to upset you” you apologize, your heart beating out of your chest.

“What? No, you didn’t do anything to upset me” he replies. “….But?” You press. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“This will sound weird…but you just look so attractive with so piercings” he admits. The admission caused you to laugh. “That’s why you have been avoiding me all night?”.

Your teasing made him flush in embarrassment. “….Yeah?”. You grasped his hands in yours in silence.

“I wonder if kissing feels different with piercings” Spencer bravely comments. “Wanna find out?”. As soon as you got your sentence out, his lips were against yours.