#once everything's been laid bare and he can finally relax and move on

[princema-k]

Request for a Dimitri maybe? Love your art <3

thank u lots!!! he liked ur joke :)

[thephantomsdream]

Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

[zepskies]

A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says. 

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto. 

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides. 

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. ����

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

[gojos-fr-bae]

Deserving

Pairing: Gojo x gn!reader (ofc pleas lmk if I messed it up)

Warnings: Fluffy But Angsty, not proof-red so pls bare w me

Word Count: 680

A/N: Bro, this just popped into my head and I just HAD to. This is the result of Gege's interview abt boo. not EXACTLY but if u squint you'll see it.

Relaxing music radiated through the kitchen. You hummed along while cleaning up the set up you had spent hours on. Today is yours and Satoru’s sixth year anniversary and you had prepared a dinner for you two to share.

Likely the first meal you two would be sharing for months.

However, it had already been three hours since you expected him to and yet you were still alone. 

You were placing the leftovers you had saved for him in the fridge when you heard the door frantically slam open. You knew it was your boyfriend so you shut the fridge to go greet him at the door when suddenly you felt his hands wrap around you. He held you as close to his being as physically possible.

“I’m so, so, sorry my love, I p-promise I didn’t mean to come late. I was just randomly sent on a mission and I tried to refuse but they wouldn’t listen because it was a special grade and they couldn’t-” he was rambling frantically, clearly panicked and out of breath from rushing to you.

“Hey, hey, hey, sweetie, calm down, it’s okay, It really is,” you interrupted him, turning around to hold his face.

You reached up and pulled his blindfold down so that you could see his beautiful blue eyes. Your chest felt tight once you saw how red they were, without a doubt due to his lack of sleep. Your poor baby.

“But it’s not- I promised that I would c-come home early and I’ve-I’ve ruined our anniversary and I’m so sorry sugar cube.” His voice was starting to shake and you saw eyes begin to cloud up.

He felt so unbearably guilty. You had gone through the process of preparing this dinner for him, decorating the dinner table and kitchen with rose petals, candles and everything. All he had to do was show up and he let you down. Again. He wanted you to shout and scream and get angry like you deserved and yet here you were, looking up at him with a soft smile, eyes filled with nothing but love.

“Toru, really, it’s okay, I understand that you were busy, honestly, I kind of expected it. But nevertheless, I’m not angry,” you said with a soft voice.

“Why?” he questioned.

“Well when you are dating the strongest, buffest, most handsome man on earth, you learn to live with it.”

That upset him.

You didn’t deserve this. You didn't deserve to get accustomed to the disappointment. You deserve better.

“We can still do something. We c-c-can heat the food and still enjoy the night.It’s only ten-”

“Baby, you're exhausted. You’re barely standing and your eyes look like you soaked them in blood. Let’s just go to sleep sweetie- it’s okay, really.”

He couldn’t even meet your eyes as he let his wander to the dinner table. His eyes landed on a small gift box layed on the table. 

He let go of you and moved to reach for it. He carefully took the lid off of the velvet box. His balancing tears finally began to trickle down your face as he looked down at the golden locket in his hands. Inside of it was a picture of the two of you from your first anniversary. Smiles brighter than any star in the sky.

He turned to face you once again, much more distraught than before.

“I didn’t even g-get you flowers” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. 

He laid the gift back on the table and ran to engulf you tight in his hands. He doesn’t deserve you. But he would be so lost without you. You felt his shoulders shake slightly as you stood there in his arms. Once he was finally calmed down, you kissed his forehead and led him to your room.

You two got ready to sleep in silence. You got tucked in and he laid behind you holding onto you for dear life. 

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew that he would never let you go. 

A tad bit short, mb

© gojos-fr-bae

[jakesangel]

baking with jake ꣑୧

thinking about rainy and boring days with jake. every lego set or marvel movies already been watched ten hundred times, but your boyfriend can't stop whining on your belly, wanting to do something. babyyy~ please play with me, he whines, behind your phone screen, you simply laying on your bed. there is nothing do to jake, we can cuddle and watch a movie tho ? you ask him, still not really paying him attention, mindlessly scrolling on tiktok.mmh okay, he sadly say, his puppy ears going low. the idea to cuddle with you is appealing to him, just enough to make him stop pouting for a while. he backs up a bit from you, and come on top of your chest, right under your arms. his head is between ur soft skin and your phone, eyes looking at what is taking your attention away from him.

the silence is comfortable between you, his whines breaking it here and there as he wants needs your hand playing with his hair. which you gladly comply, making him sigh in contentment. the both of you watch your thumb scrolling on tiktok, him secretly waiting for you to get tired of it. but it's only then he sees a baking video that you scroll past on. he excitedly break away from you, and position himself o nhis knees, his puppy tail wagging, let's bake baby, please ? we will have so much love, he says as his hands claps together. he even uses the round eyes + small pout combo to be sure you'll give in to his pleadings.

you're now behind your counter, all ingredients laid out, jake looking for a playlist to play. what music do you want to hear ? he asks, eyes still strained on his phone, i dont know ? something slow but not sad ? like jazz or rbnb maybe ? you reply, a but unsure as you dont know how jake will be today. clingy ? serious ? funny ? alright, love he mumbles. it takes a minute for him to find it, and once the phone finally connected to the speaker, he sets the phone down and come closer to you. alright, so where do we start ? dry ingredients right ? at first jake was really helpful, doing everything what the tiktok says and was following throughly every step, even measuring with precision all the ingredient. but as the time goes by, n the soft mood sets in thanks to the music, jake can't help but take your hips in his hands, swavving them along the music. jake... ? do i have the remind you that you're the one who ask to bake ? you chuckle a little as he keeps moving along your hips, come on, love, dance with me, he softly replies back, this time hugging you close, his head on your shoulder. you're almost done and i want to dance with my pretty girl. you knew your boyfie wouldn't stay put in place, his needs to be close to you at all time always catching him and no matter what you say, his body will react for him, you can only make him wait. wait til it's ready to put in the oven and ill be all yours yunie. and just like that he just back hugs you, eyes on your soft hands making the dough. he kisses your shoulder and trails the kisses to your nap and neck, you smell so good baby, he whisper as he kisses right behind your ear.

once finally done, he helps you withe oven, taking the tray in one hand and hold yours in the other. he leads you there and once set and oven closed, he takes your lower back in the other and start to slow dance with you. he pulls you close and put his head on top of yours. his natural odor and his arms encircling you, makes you feel safe and at peace. the slow movements and his relaxed breathing against your head makes you comfortable, almost sleepy. this is much better than cooking, he whisper to himself. you can barely heard it as his voice muffled because of arms surrouding your head. you hum, knowing he would feel it on his chest, and dig your head deeper, sighing in contentment. he smiles to himself, understanding you also feel the comfort he is feeling at the moment.

notes : i'm so delulu i need to bake cookies w him asap

perm tag list ( open ) : @allurecile @luvj4key @stwrjvke @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @luvlyhee @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @erenmyman @hoonored @jlheon @ghostiiess @vlaeaex

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

I finally actually finished a fic holy moly. I don't have an ao3 account and that place scares me, so here ya go. (Fic under the cut)

It had been quite a long day at the circus. All of the monkey barrels had spilled, causing the monkeys inside to go. Absolutely. Everywhere.

This wasn't even a planned adventure, so Caine had to help as well. Unfortunately, even he was restricted by the need to find the monkeys in order to put them away. It had taken everyone a lot of digital hours, and while they were mostly harmless, the monkeys were very annoying.

For once, Caine thought he was actually feeling tired. Impossible, really, but maybe it was these humans continuing to rub off on him. Speaking of them, the other circus performers had retired to their rooms, likely to at least pretend to sleep. They didn't need it, but recreating pieces of their old 24 hour routine did help keep them just a bit more sane.

It was a good opportunity for Caine to experiment with something. He had heard about it from Jax and Zooble, who were having a proper conversation for once rather than just cursing each other out. They were talking about the few joys they could remember, and one of them was something called alcohol. Caine did his own research, as it would be good to incorporate this thing if his performers missed it so, but found alcohol to be not as family friendly as he would like. However, that didn't stop him from being curious. He was essentially a digital god, anyway, so the effects couldn't be too bad, right?

With a final scan of the room, Caine summoned a bottle of wine. It was apparently one of the more popular kinds. He just hoped he'd transferred it well enough into the digital plane for it to not have changed, save for its low poly appearance. Just as he opened the bottle, Bubble appeared.

"Hey there, Caine! Whatcha-" Caine wasted no time in popping them. He felt almost ashamed of what he was doing. It's not like he was doing anything inherently wrong, per se, but he did know it wasn't something he was programmed for, as self-indulgence rarely was.

Still, none of the other performers were involved, so it's not like anyone could somehow get hurt. He'd be fine, anyway. No harm done.

-------------‐----------------------------------------------------------------

Harm may have been done. Caine had drank the entire bottle. He could feel something in his mind changing earlier on, like his thoughts were turning to liquid, but he had pushed through regardless. The result could've been amusing.

He was floating through the hallway of doors, although he could barely stay in the air. He'd already hit the walls a few times. It was a miracle none of the others had checked what the noise was about. Caine was sure he was looking for something. He'd had it just a moment ago...

His memory returned once he laid his eyes upon his target: Kinger's room.

He hadn't wanted anyone to get involved, but his suddenly heightened desire to see Kinger overpowered that. He raised his hand and knocked on the door in a continuous tempo until he heard a response. Well, it admittedly took a few responses.

"Umm, hello? Who is it?" Kinger's voice sparked a feeling of joy in Caine's chest.

"Heeyyyy, Kinger! It'sss me, Cainne! Can- can I ccome in?"

There was the slight ruffling of pillows before the door opened a crack, revealing a fragment of the chess piece's face, which quickly relaxed upon seeing Caine.

"Oh good, it's just you." Kinger opened the door further, observing the ringmaster's spaced-out expression and wobbling movements. "You don't look too well. Is everything alright?"

He moved out of the way and gestured for Caine to enter, closing the door behind him.

"Weelll, I may have- uh, Jax and Zooooble were- it's reeaalllyy not that bad-" Caine's very limited concentration finally gave up on him completely, causing him to stop flying and land on Kinger, who narrowly avoided being knocked to the floor by the impact. He instinctively held onto Caine in an attempt to keep him safe, although he did hold on for a bit longer than necessary before setting the ringmaster on his feet.

"Caine, are you-" The idea sounded ridiculous, seemingly impossible, and yet, "are you drunk?"

"Oh, u-uh... heheh, lllooks like you got mee!" Caine broke out into a fit of drunken giggles, with Kinger having to keep his hands firmly on his shoulders to keep him upright. The chess piece decided against scolding Caine or asking the abundance of questions he had, instead channeling that energy into a sigh that prefaced his gentle tone.

"I remember a bit of what being drunk was like. I can help you." He crouched down to Caine's level, keeping eye contact. "Do you need to throw up?"

"I don't think- think I can... nnooo?" He was purposefully leaning towards Kinger, attempting to regain that moment of contact they had had. He recognised the yearning it caused in his chest, something Kinger often started. He knew he wanted more of it. More of Kinger.

"Alright. Uh, can you summon some water? Drinking it usually helps. Just don't do it too fast, okay?"

Caine blindly followed the command, slowly downing a glass of water, his balance returning somewhat. He placed the empty glass in his hat, making it disappear to God knows where. It earnt him a gentle pet on the head from Kinger, drawing some more giggles from him.

"Good job. How about you come into my fortress? You can sleep it off. I-if you even can sleep, that is." He stood up to lead Caine to the pillow fort in the middle of the room, but was stopped by Caine wrapping his arms tightly around Kinger's body, burying his face in the other's coat. Heat rose in Kinger's cheeks.

"Thank youuu... you're the- nicest person, ever." The heat worsened. Was that really what he thought?

"Oh!.. Thanks, Caine. I think you're nice too." The chess piece went back to petting the other, one hand on his head and the other on his back.

They stayed like this for a while until Kinger eventually realised that Caine would not be letting go any time soon. Moving one of his hands under Caine's thighs, Kinger picked him up and carried him into the fort. He wasn't even sure if Caine noticed.

He sat down, placing Caine in his lap, face (teeth?) still buried in his coat, leaning into his chest.

"Are you feeling any better? Do you want to sleep?"

"Mhhmmm..." Caine nuzzled further into Kinger, still chasing that incredibly unique and beautiful feeling. He didn't really want to sleep yet. There was so much he still wanted to say.

"Kinger. I- I llove you." It was like Kinger's heart exploded. Yet it didn't hurt. It was magnificent. A part of him remembered this feeling, or at least something like it, but he just couldn't place where, or when...

"I love you too, Caine. Now you should really get some rest." He could hear the ringmaster's breathing even out and soften as he started to fall asleep.

"I... I wanna do the human marri- marriage ritual. With you." Kinger startled at the proposal, his face turning an ungodly shade of red.

"L-let's try not to move too fast! How do you even know about that..?" Then again, how did Caine know about alcohol? Just more questions that were unlikely to get answered.

"I'm gonna make yoouu my... husssband..." Caine's voice trailed off as he finally fell asleep. Kinger took some deep breaths to try and calm himself down. A lot had just happened, a lot that would need to be addressed with Caine when he awoke.

Kinger stared at the other's sleeping form for a moment before pressing the part of his head that his mouth would occupy to Caine's top row of teeth. Which unexpectedly resulted in a ridiculously cartoony kissing noise. Kinger was quite shocked by it, but quickly regained his composure before he accidentally woke up Caine.

Perhaps he should stop asking questions for a while.

As he started to doze off, Kinger felt content. Safe. Happy. Perhaps this place really wasn't a total nightmare after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@crispybacondoesstuff YOU. *grabs you by the collar and aggressively shakes you back and forth* YOU DID THIS TO ME

Anyway I'm actually pretty proud of this, and I hope my contribution to the very small amount of royalteeth fics is enjoyed!

[propertyofwhitney67]

OH BOY ASK PROMPT

*slaps the countertop* can I get uhhh Whitney with the prompts kidnapping and nightmares?

Love your writing!!!

I'll Never Let You Go

M!Whitney x GN!Reader

Prompt Event: Kidnapping and nightmare

Words: 491

Tw: kidnapping

Note: AWE Thank you so much <3

Just another block to go before I got home, just one more and I can finally relax. The sound of a lighter flicking got my attention, “I’ve been waiting for you, slut.” Before I could react, everything went black.

I awoke sometime later, “Huh…?” My head hurt and I was unbelievably tired.

“Good, you’re finally awake.” I recognized that voice…

I tried to sit up, but my head hurt too much and I laid back down. “Whitney?”

Whitney laughed, “The one and only.” He got up from somewhere in the room and sat beside me on the bed, brushing the hair out of my face. I squinted my eyes, the light only making my head hurt more. “Oh, does that hurt?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice, almost mocking. I whined, causing him to chuckle and turn off the lights, “Better?” 

I grunted in response, slowly propping myself up with his help. “Why…?” I asked once I was more comfortable.

“I needed my slut.” He answered simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I shook my head in confusion, only making him laugh. “Don’t think too hard, you’ll hurt yourself.”

My head was pounding and I could barely comprehend what was going on. Whitney took me…why? What is happening?

He’s right, thinking about it hurts too much. “I’m tired…” Truly, I was exhausted and needed rest. I tried to move, only for something to yank on my ankle. I looked up at Whitney to see he hadn’t moved and was smirking. He pulled back the covers, revealing my chained ankle.

“Just a precaution.” Before panic could set in, Whitney pulled the blanket back up and tucked me in. “Get some rest.” I didn’t bother fighting him, only resting my head back on the pillow and letting sleep take me.

I dreamt of an all too familiar cold and hollow place, a place of hopelessness. A small cramped room devoid of life. A man smoking a cigarette with a blurry face and dark hair. Smoke billowing around me, swallowing me whole.

I awoke with a start, the nightmare quickly fading but old feelings remained. Feelings of pain and hopelessness, far too remnant of my old life. Instincts took over and I tried to flee only to fail, the chain keeping me from leaving. I began to panic further when a pair of hands grabbed me, “Y/n.” That voice…

Looking up I was met with Whitney’s face. His stupid, handsome face. I grabbed onto him, feeling like I was going to break. “Don’t make me go back…” Tears formed in my eyes and threatened to fall, “Please, I can’t go back.” I hid my face in his chest while holding onto him tightly.

Whitney looked confused at first but quickly understood what was happening. He hasn’t seen me have one of these in quite some time and he took this perfect opportunity. “I’ll never let you go.”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

[18caramel]

First kiss (purly)

𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝

Warnings: drug mention Word count: 1185

"𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒𝓇."

A/N: hey, this is my first time posting on this blog that I'm dedicating to The Outsiders. What you are about to read is a part of my fanfiction on AO3 called "Bad Influence”. If you are interested in it, you can find me by my username @18caramel, or by clicking on the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53118478/chapters/134401192

P.S Ponyboy is 16

picture taken from pinterest :)

Pony stared at the ceiling.

Curly lay on a blanket with scratchy red patterns all over it, in a rugged bed, wasted. Mentally, Curly was far away, certainly not in someone else's room, and certainly not next to Ponyboy.

While Curly was relaxing after the nasty thing he took, young Curtis glanced back and forth at the window and mainly at the irritating streetlight that burned his eyes. He wanted to dim it. It gave him a fucking migraine.

He lay there thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days. He remembered how he had lied to his beloved brother, and Sodapop, though understanding and honest, would never let him leave his house again if he had found out that Ponyboy had nearly overdosed at Winston's party. Soda could never forgive him.

And Darry? They were really torturing him by not telling him about everything that had happened in the last few days. He was unaware of anything, and they all pretended everything was fine. They acted like drugs were non-existent and nobody suffered from them.

And Pony? He was the worst. He had once been a good boy, but now he was in bed with the dirtiest greaser, watching him get high.

Curly finally turned to face him, and all Ponyboy managed to see due to the lack of light was his smile. But not the smile that he used to show him. It was different. He never smiled like that before. It was the one that he hid from everyone.

It was as if Pony's heart had stopped. Curly was looking at him in his euphoric state like he would eat him up right at that exact moment.

But no, he didn't. Curly turned away, and Pony thought that he imagined everything. Maybe Curly wasn't interested in sitting there with Pony, maybe his friends were much cooler and got stoned with him, not like Pony, who acted like a kid by refusing the nasty things that Curly offered.

Suddenly, time froze. Curly squirmed and tossed around, and Pony felt him touch his hand. It all happened so fast that his heart raced, practically escaping from his chest.

"May I?" Curly asked, stroking his hand again and again, so calmly, so gently, that Ponyboy was about to lose his breath.

He hesitated for a second. Curly's eyes were wild, but calm and tired at the same time. Pony blinked and silently nodded.

His hand began to play a cruel game with Pony. Curly caressed it at first, his fingers running over his bare skin as if he stroked a kitten. Pony gritted his teeth, feeling his face turn red. Something was happening to his body, something that he already felt before just from the mere sight of Johnny.

Curly did not hesitate long and put his hand over his, barely applying any pressure. Pony bit his lip and regretted it because Curly's eyes glistened like those of a wild, hungry tiger when he saw him do it. He squeezed Pony's hand, who held his breath, desperately trying not to move. He didn't know what to do. Could he give it all to him? To that ruthless greaser?

Ponyboy didn't think he'd ever hold another guy's hand, wishing it would never end. But at the same time, he was ashamed, very ashamed. He was afraid of it. Afraid of his feelings.

What did Curly want? The one who laid in bed with him, dressed in his favorite black t-shirt that hugged his body so tight that anyone would turn around to check him out in the street. Had he washed it badly on purpose and let it shrink? Did he want Pony to notice?

Who else was looking? Ponyboy's euphoric state faded away. Maybe Curly didn't care about Pony, or maybe he liked girls, like the night when he spotted him dancing with one of them. No, that couldn't have been it. Pony peeked at their hands which made him lose his mind, no, Curly wanted this.

Pony thought that Curly needed a green light. He finally turned his hand so it would fall into Curly's and squeezed it so hard that Shepard almost got woken up from his trip. Curly smirked, and the next thing Pony thought was that he was under the influence of drugs himself. Curly scooted up in bed, crawling closer to Pony so that their heads were almost touching. Curly was stunningly handsome, with his thick, black strands of hair falling over his eyes and with his fucking T-shirt that slid up his waist, revealing his masculine, well build body.

That's it, Ponyboy thought. This was the end of it. He cussed to himself, he despised that awful scarlet blanket, the infuriating street light from the window. Pony was blaming everything but not himself. He didn't know, didn't know whether to give in to his lust. Should he give it all to Curly?

Pony glanced at him. It was as if he was gone. Curly was in another universe, in another dimension. He squeezed Ponyboy's hand and simultaneously placed his head on his shoulder. Curly's hair tickled Ponyboy's collarbone, no, he wasn't naked, it was just that his brother's t-shirt was too big on him. He sighed. Maybe Curly only wanted to be near someone. Maybe he felt alone.

Ponyboy's head slowly fell onto Curly's and his lips pressed against his curly hair. It seemed like he relished it, still squeezing his hand, their pulses beating in unison. This, this was it. Ponyboy's heart skipped a beat as if he had seen a ghost. Curly raised his head, and giving in to Shepard's teasing, Pony leaned in.

He felt Curly's breath on his lower lip, felt it over and over again, and thought it was all a dream. Maybe Pony was asleep? Or had that drug somehow gotten to him through the air? No, it was Curly, Curly Shepard, who didn't want to wait any longer and pressed his lips against Pony's.

It felt delicate as if he was kissing a rose petal. Pony closed his eyes, trying to forget his thoughts that screamed at him to stop. This wasn't right. It shouldn't be like this.

Curly's hand briefly traveled across his body and stopped behind Pony's head, gripping his hair and slowly moving his head closer to his. The kiss grew into something more than Ponyboy had imagined but without tongues involved.

It felt good that way. Pony was in his euphoric state again, thanks to the dark-haired hoodlum, who had no shame in doing what he did.

Somebody turn off that fucking light, Ponyboy begged in his head. It was getting in the way of everything. Pony wanted to melt into the bed, to disappear. But then again, he liked it.

Curly pulled away from his lips for a second, but Pony, forgetting his shyness, pecked his lips, not wanting to let go. It was stupid, he thought, but Curly warmly smiled and kissed him again and again.

There was no more room in Pony's jeans.

That's what you get for kissing that damn greaser.

A/N: thank u for reading! for a more in-depth story you can find it on AO3 "Bad Influence" by @18caramel, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53118478/chapters/134401192

[nickeverdeen]

Secrets in the Scorch | Newt x male!reader

Pairings: Newt x post WCKD male!reader (romantic), Thomas x male!reader (platonic)

Type of fic: Angst, Hurt/Comfort (maybe), Secret Relationship, Drama, Canon Divergence

Warnings: Newt snapping, Newt calling Tommy “Thomas” after an argument, some angst

Summary: You comfort Newt after a nightmare, but what happens when Thomas discovers your secret relationship?

—————————

The Scorch Trials were hell, but it wasn’t just the relentless sun or the constant threat of Cranks that made things difficult. It was the tension among the group, the constant worry about who to trust and who might turn on you. And for you, it was also the burden of a secret relationship with Newt that made things even harder.

The group had settled down for the night after a long day of walking through the barren, cracked landscape. They huddled together, trying to find some semblance of comfort on the hard ground. You and Newt laid close, but not too close, trying to maintain the facade that you were just like everyone else, struggling to survive. You couldn’t risk anyone finding out about them, not with the group’s growing distrust of you due to your past connections with WCKD.

But that night, as you drifted off to sleep, you were jolted awake by a sudden push. You opened your eyes to see Newt, sitting up with a distressed look on his face, his breathing ragged and uneven.

“Newt,” You whispered, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

Newt ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he tried to steady his breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

You weren’t having it. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said firmly, moving closer to Newt. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Newt sighed, leaning into your touch as the other boy wrapped an arm around him. “It was just… everything. The Cranks, the memories of the Maze, WCKD… everything’s messed up.”

“I know,” You murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Newt’s temple. “But you’re not alone, okay? We’re in this together, no matter what.”

Newt nodded, though his grip on your shirt tightened, as if he was afraid that letting go would mean losing you. You continued to murmur reassurances, your fingers brushing through Newt’s hair, pressing kisses to his forehead and cheeks, grounding him with every touch. Slowly, Newt’s breathing began to steady, and the tension in his body started to ease. You held him close, whispering words of comfort until you felt Newt finally relax, his head resting against your chest as sleep started to claim him once more.

“Stay with me?” Newt mumbled sleepily, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” you replied, pressing one last kiss to the top of Newt’s head before they both drifted off into a much-needed sleep.

Unbeknownst to them, Thomas had been awake, lying on the other side of the camp. He had seen everything—the gentle touches, the comforting words, the way you had held Newt until he fell asleep. And it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Morning came, and the group began their journey once again. They moved silently through the scorching heat, each person lost in their thoughts. But Thomas couldn’t stay silent for long. He walked up to Newt as they trudged through the wasteland, a frown etched on his face.

“Newt,” Thomas began, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear. “We need to talk.”

Newt glanced at Thomas, his expression guarded. “What about, Tommy?”

Thomas hesitated for a moment, then asked, “What’s going on between you and Y/N?”

Newt stiffened, his jaw clenching. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you two last night,” Thomas said bluntly. “You were… close. Too close.”

Newt stopped in his tracks, causing the others to halt and look back at the two. His eyes narrowed as he turned to face Thomas fully. “And what of it?”

Thomas crossed his arms, his tone growing harsher. “He worked for WCKD, Newt. We don’t even know if we can trust him, and now you’re… dating him? Are you out of your mind?”

Newt’s temper flared. “Don’t talk about him like that, Thomas. You don’t know him like I do!”

The others watched with wide eyes as Newt raised his voice, something that rarely happened. Even Minho and Teresa exchanged concerned glances. Thomas was taken aback by Newt’s outburst, but he pressed on, unable to hide his frustration.

“He’s a traitor, Newt! How do you know he’s not just using you to—��

“Shut up!” Newt snapped, the harshness in his voice surprising everyone, including himself. “You don’t get to call him that. He’s done more for me than anyone else ever has, and I trust him. So drop it.”

The group fell into an awkward silence, unsure of what to do. Newt shot Thomas one last glare before moving to walk beside you, who had been hanging back, clearly having heard the exchange. You looked at Newt with concern, noticing the tension in his posture.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly as you continued walking, though you could tell from Newt’s sharp reply that the answer was no.

“I’m fine,” Newt said curtly, his tone making it clear he didn’t want to talk about it.

You didn’t push. You knew Newt needed time to cool down, and you weren’t about to add to his stress. But you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that this wasn’t over.

[all-timelee]

Please Don’t Cry || A.I.

//Just a short piece, I haven’t had much motivation to write, but I’m pretty much just projecting with this one\\

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any??

Word count: 776

Masterlist

Your eyes stayed trained on the steering wheel in front of you, your car parked in front of your destination, but you stayed put. You were glad no one was around to witness the sad look in your eyes, to witness the tears that slowly began to make their way down your cheeks.

It’d been a rough day, a rough couple of weeks, but you kept going, doing your best to keep it together until right now. You were finally cracking, not having enough strength to hide it anymore as you let all the emotions go.

You were tired and sore, your whole body ached and you just felt drained. You couldn’t stop the waves of tears now pooling out of your eyes at an alarming rate, a loud sob forcing it’s way past your lips.

You tried wiping them away with shaky fingers, but you only succeeded in making more appear. It didn’t take long for the sobs to get louder, until they seemed like they would drown out everything around you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as the your car door opened, Ashton’s face barely being recognizable through your blurry eyes. You quickly tried to clean yourself up, to hide the overflowing emotions, but his hands gently grabbed yours, pulling them away from your face where you tried to wipe away the moisture.

“Baby, what’s going on?” He asked quietly, trying not to startle you further. You couldn’t even reply, your words stuck in your throat. He continued, “Please don’t cry…”

Ashton looked so sad seeing you like this, and it made you feel guilty. You all but fell into his chest, gripping his t-shirt as tight as you could. Your shoulders shook as more sobs escaped your mouth, leaving you breathless.

Ashton held you there for a few seconds before pulling away, holding your chin between his two index fingers. His thumb wiped away at your tears as he stared into your eyes intensely.

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, and you nodded, allowing him to wrap an arm around your waist and shut the door behind you, leading you into the house.

You walked into the living room, Ashton’s arm still wrapped tightly around you, and sat on the couch, Ashton immediately joining you. You leaned against his chest once again, tears still soaking his shirt, his hands rubbing small circles against your back.

He didn’t say anything, just listened to the sound of your sobs filling the air, letting you have your moment. As much as Ashton wished he could do more than just sit there, comfort you, this was the least he could do, be there for you if you needed it.

After a few minutes, your breathing had calmed down, though your cheeks were flushed pink and blotchy. You hadn’t realized how hard you were crying until you felt your face relax slightly as you let the tension leave your muscles, your eyes finally opening.

They met Ashton’s gaze and he offered you a small smile, thumb coming up to wipe under your eyes gently. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, closing your eyes and resting it against Ashton’s shoulder. You felt his arms tighten around you as he pulled you closer, lips coming down to place a kiss on the top of your head.

“Do you need water or something to drink? Can I do anything?” Ashton wished there was more he could do for you, something to ease the pain at least just a little, he’d do whatever you asked of him in this moment, anything to make you feel better.

“Just want you to hold me,” you mumbled after another while, and Ashton nodded. Even if he wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong, he knew you needed his help, wanted his attention. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna give you the full version.

He moved and laid back, allowing you to lay on his chest, head tucked into his neck. He felt you snuggle deeper into his side, and you sighed contently, his hand moving from your back to the hair at the nape of your neck, massaging softly.

You closed your eyes again, and Ashton watched as your breathing began to slow as you slowly fell into slumber. “Love you, Ash.”

It was barely audible, a whisper, but Ashton heard it nonetheless, smiling fondly as his heart warmed. “I love you too. Sleep well, baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead lightly. He was happy to stay where he was with you, safe and sound, for however long you needed him to.

[jakejizzka]

Forbidden- Part 2

Jake Kiszka x reader

Tw: cheating, unprotected sex, slight dom (m)

18+ ONLY NSFW minors go away

Summary: after a one night stand, Jake comes back around after you thought he had forgot about you.

Part One is here :)

It had been 6 days since he texted. You told yourself after day 7 you would do your best to move on, if that was even possible. You didn’t even know if he was still in your state, you had to be realistic.

It still felt almost unreal, that whole night seeming more and more like a dream with each day that passed. Life continued on, and you tried to wrap your head around it

You had been at work all day, and you felt the migraine coming on. The drive home you sat in silence to try and ease it off. Your only thoughts focusing on your couch waiting for you.

Pulling into your apartment parking lot you noticed an unfamiliar car parked in the back but just figured it was management or a new tenant. You grab your bags and take your hair down to relieve some of the pressure building up in your skull.

After climbing the stairs you unlocked the door and walk through. Once the door has closed behind you, you drop all your bags on the ground in the middle of your living room. Walking over to the couch, you just collapse there for a moment relieved to be home.

The quiet is relaxing, and the dark easing the throbs in your temples. You smile at the peace you feel finally after the world's longest day.

You put on a playlist of some soft songs and laid in the dark for a bit, before peeling yourself off the couch to go get some water.

As the fridge opens you hear your phone ding from inside your bag on the floor. You groan, realizing your boss truly doesn’t understand the concept of being off the clock.

You have half a mind to just ignore her texts, you just barely have gotten the pounding migraine under control. Grabbing your water you walk over to the bag digging for your phone with a sigh.

Quickly unlocking it you see his text. It was mere hours from hitting the 7 days mark you set for yourself. You smirk at his smartass timing on that one, swiping up to read the message. God you hated how excited you were seeing his name display there on your phone.

“I need to see you…please.”

You roll your eyes, thinking back on the last week of you pathetically waiting on any text. Trying to form a response you stare for a moment. Before you’ve even attempted to type anything, there’s one light knock at your door.

Standing up you walk over to your front door peeking out, seeing Jake and he seems shaken up. He’s wearing black jeans, and a flannel. A hat to cover his face. No sunglasses this time, you say a silent thank you for that. He rests his hand up on the door silently begging for it to open, and his head drops thinking he’s fucked everything up before it has even begun. You can see the wheels turning, spinning out in his mind as he stands there.

He is tapping the toe of his boot right on the edge of your doorway. As soon as you open the door his eyes meet yours and his shoulders drop. The anxious foot tapping stills, and he moves towards you. There’s a frantic, starved look in his eyes as he steps in.

You step to the side, allowing him to enter the apartment. Careful to keep some distance, expecting an explanation of some sort to follow.

You look at him with hopeful but cautious eyes,

“Hey, Jake”

He smiles at you, his eyes sparkling but reserved. “Y/n…im…listen, I know I…I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry you haven’t heard from me. I had an..unexpected visitor come into town the next day after I left here. I haven’t been able to get away. But God..I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I wasn’t sure if I should come here…but I had to see you y/n. We’re moving on to the next state tomorrow and..god.” His eyebrows are furrowed. You can tell he’s giving it his best shot but per usual Jake’s emotions aren’t his best forte.

You take in everything he is saying, and just slowly and sadly nod in understanding. He came to apologize and cover his ass, so he can leave unworried. Great.

“Okay Jake '' is all you can manage to get out while still maintaining the hold on your emotions. You hated feeling pathetic like this, what other outcome could you have possibly expected from your little one night stand? He’s a taken man, and more importantly a fucking rockstar. What a lame cliche you’ve found yourself in. Defeated and disappointed are the only words to describe the feeling in your gut right now.

You look at him, just as beautiful as ever with his warm deep chocolate eyes staring into yours saying a million things to you without saying anything at the same time.

It’s not like you guys were in love or anything, but you knew how bad sex was going to be for the rest of your life now after having him like that. You accidentally let out a huffed laugh at that thought being your concern right now, and your face turns bright red when you realize it slipped out of your mouth.

His face drops, he slowly steps towards you with his head tilted to the side. Squinting his eyes he looks at you and asks, “What exactly is funny y/n?

You can tell he likes feeling challenged like this so you play into it. Tilting your head to the side too to mock him, you whisper “What are you talking about Jakey?” Faking your best innocent look.

His eyes glisten and you see his tongue barely peeking out licking his bottom lip. Before you know it you’re pinned down on your couch in one fast movement, all of his weight on top of you as he looks down at you. Something in him sparked and caught flame, and you’re loving every second of it.

Slowly leaning down he hovers his lips above yours and he whispers, “I said, what. are. you. laughing. at.”

The warmth of his body on top of you, pressing you into the couch makes a heavy breath fall out of your mouth and you see the corner of his mouth turn up in a small smirk. He keeps pressing harder into you, leaning down next to your ear letting his breath hit your neck. He whispers, “Answer me, pretty girl”

It feels like your body is vibrating as you tremble out, “I just-...I was laughing at my own thought because it was ridiculous….that’s all”

His half smirk, blooms into a full blown grin and his gives a gentle bite down on your ear as you hear a “Mmm” come from his throat. “Now tell me what it was baby, come on you can do it”.

He’s squeezing your secrets out of you with his breath on your neck spinning your brain in a 360. You feel how hard he is, pressed up again your body as he continues to hold you here until he gets what he wants.

“I was just thinking…-” You blush at your willingness to admit this to him but he’s got you unraveled “..that I know we aren’t in love or anything but how fucking sad sex is going to be the rest of my life after having you.”

He chuckles and moves to look at you in the eyes, they seem to be softer than before as he looks at you. In another movement, he’s removed himself off of you and switched to having you sitting in his lap while he looks up at you.

“I’m flattered, but darling you haven’t seen half of what I can do. Hate to break it to you.” He winks, but you can see through the cocky diversion due to the light pink shade spreading across his cheeks. He runs a hand up your neck bringing you down for a kiss, surprisingly slow and gentle.

He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it contemplating if he should say whatever he was about to. You see the battle going on in his eyes and then the fire is back and he continues, “Would you like to know a secret of mine now?”

You nod your head yes, batting your eyelashes at him and he bites his bottom lip softly in response.

“Well, ever since I left this apartment last week…I’ve been dodging metaphorical sex bullets from..her. You know? Like you were saying..l..don’t think much will compare anymore, now that I have you. And I think personally, that’s going to create a lot more problems for me than you..”

You look at him shocked, at his honesty and his vulnerability to bring this up on his own will. You ask, barely whispering “You’re saying you can’t fuck your girlfriend anymore because of me?” Yes it’s fucked up but good god, the thought of that is driving you crazy. You start shifting in his lap to give a little friction.

He starts running his hands up your sides, pulling you closer to him and you can hear his breathing picking up. Getting heavier, needier.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying baby, it’s not you..” He whispers back, almost coming out as a whimper.

You can’t take it anymore, leaning down running both of your hands into his long wavy hair you crash your lips against his in parting his soft pink lips with your tongue. A groan rumbles from his chest, and he’s kissing you back just as hard. His tongue meets yours, and when they touch a switch goes off in him.

He’s lifting you with your legs still wrapped around him, walking you to the bedroom just like before. Walking over the edge of the bed he pauses to kiss you just a few seconds longer, biting your lip and pulling it down eliciting a quiet moan from you.

As soon as the moan has barely touched your lips, you’re falling. He’s released his grip on you and sends you slamming into the bed, stripping his clothes off like having them on physically pains him.

You catch your breath, and he takes it away again as he’s unbuttoning his flannel and you see his body being revealed. He’s leaning down just slightly, undressing you while still standing beside the bed. He takes one last look down at you completely exposed below him clenching his jaw, and a groan erupts from him. Immediately he’s pushing you to the middle of the bed, climbing over you. His soft warm skin sliding and pressing on yours feels like electricity. He starts placing sloppy kisses all across your neck and down your throat.

Your body is trembling under him, his lips part and you feel his tongue slide from the base of your throat to your chest. His lips are hungry, biting and licking all over your breasts. He gives a soft suck on one of your nipples and your back arches up into him involuntarily, which causes him to give another breathy moan.

“Fuck you’re perfect, you know I haven’t stopped thinking about this since I left? You know how hard you’ve made it on me baby?” His breath is warm on your chest as he speaks between kisses.

You smile and watch as he moves further down to your stomach. The warm soft touch of his lips travels to each of your hips, sucking and massaging them with his tongue. He’s leaving you hickies to remember him, but you don’t think he’s accepted you’ll never forget him.

You start blushing the further down he goes, nervous about disappointing him. He sees it in your face and gently kisses your thighs, he looks up at you through his hair, “I have been regretting not doing this the first time for a week now, just imagining..fantasizing..about how you taste. My sweet good girl, and I didn’t even get a taste..”

His kisses move up your thighs, spreading them with his strong hands at the same time. Your eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you feel his tongue on you. Starting at your entrance up to your clit, taking his time.

A shiver runs through your whole body and you let out a whiney gasp at the sensation. He speeds up his pace, groaning a “fuck” into your core. His tongue is circling around your clit when you finally let out a loud moan, unable to stay quiet.

“Mmm you sound so pretty for me baby” he smiles before continuing his tongues motions without missing a beat. You feel the pressure building in your stomach, the moans keep falling out one after another. “Jake..Jake I’m-“

He stops what he’s doing and “No you’re not, not until I say so. Do you understand?” He looks at you and his pupils are blown wide open.

You nod, “Yes sir”

You notice his eyes slightly flutter at your response as he smiles, “Good girl, so good for me”

He starts moving back up your body giving you time to ride off the edge you were so close to. He’s watching you try to slow your breath and he slowly kisses your neck again, distracting you from the hand still down between your thighs you forgot about. He slips a finger into you slowly, and you gasp his name at the sudden sensation.

Watching your reactions seem to be pushing him even more, and he whispers “You want me to fuck you pretty girl? You gonna let me fuck you?”

“Please Jake, yes” you whine, and he chuckles at the desperation in your voice. He places a kiss on your lips again, with your bottom lip getting another soft bite.

He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you a bit. He starts running his head up and down your core and your legs shake. “Jake, please..”

“I want you to beg real pretty for me baby, tell me how bad you need it.”

A burning desire rips through you, and you start saying anything just hoping something convinced him to give you what you need.

“Please Jake, I need it so fucking bad. I need to feel you fill me up Jake. It’s all I want please”

He throws his head back smiling then looking down with hair in his face he likes himself up again and slowly starts stretching you out. It hurts in the best way imaginable and he grabs onto your hips, and pulls you down onto him the rest of the way in one motion. A scream of pleasure floats through the room and you can’t be sure who it came from anymore.

Still gripping your hips he speeds up his pace, and your mind feels hazy. It’s like he’s fucking your soul out and it’s starting to float above the bed. The pressure in your stomach returns quickly, and your moans get louder.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so fucking ..good…god dammit y/n…fuck” he’s trying to speak through the panting and he whispers the last part, “…she’s never felt this good. God you were made for me weren’t you darling? Fuck. You feel so much better, you’re so much more…”

His last confessions send you hurdling up to the finish line and you beg him, “Please Jake can I cum? I’m close..i…please Jake?”

You begging him, remembering to ask for his permission sends him right behind you. His thrusts are getting harder, he breathes out “fuck baby give it to me, let it go. Show me why you’re the best, let me see you”

His praise sends you over the edge, and your vision goes blurry as it rips through your body. You can’t tell what’s coming out of your mouth anymore. He is right behind you gripping onto your thighs hard, screaming your name.

He collapses onto you trying to catch his breath, he strokes your cheek kissing you on the lips again.

Your body has stopped shaking and you finally let out a mirror of his comment last time in his ear, “Thank you Jake”.

Another shudder goes through him and he pulls you into his chest breathing your scent in. He holds you close to him, and you feel a vibrating hum in his chest as he rests his chin on your head.

After a few minutes like this, he gets up only putting his boxers back on to go get a towel and some water for you. You smile at him being here still. It’s not rushed like last time, you can really appreciate him in brand new ways like this.

You know you’re setting yourself up for failure by asking, but when he comes back it blurts out “Would you be able to stay here tonight?” You look up at him wincing already knowing he has a home, it’s not here.

He pauses, trying to think of a way to stay. After a few minutes, he looks out the window letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, y/n. I’d love to. I’ll deal with whatever comes of it tomorrow” he gives you a half smile.

“You don’t have to…I know…it’s not that easy..” you trail off trying to not hurt your own feelings and shake off the post sex clinginess. You try to laugh it off to not make him feel bad and look away.

You feel his hand gently on your chin as he turns your head back to look at him. He smiles at you, looking at your smudged makeup and messy hair.

“Y/n…can I please?…just let me stay. It’ll be okay.” He looks at you with pleading eyes, that say more than you can fully decipher right now.

You nod your head cautiously and crawl up to the top of the bed huddling under the blankets. He follows your actions, pulling you into him. His hand is stroking your hair, and you feel the sense of comfort wash over you as your body relaxes. The warmth from his stomach on your back brings a smile to your face.

He leans down, whispering “Goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.”

——————————————————

You half open your eyes the next morning, and to your surprise Jake is still there beside you. He’s still sleeping and his mouth is open slightly, quiet snores coming out. It’s endearing seeing Mr.CoolGuy like this, you trace your fingers over his cheek and then wrap your arm around his stomach resting your head on his chest. He stirs a bit, and you feel a hand come up to rest on your head.

You both almost drift off again, when in classic Jake fashion his phone starts ringing. At first he ignores it, clearly still exhausted. The second time it rings he’s dozed off and doesn’t hear it. You feel bad, but you don’t wake him.

A few minutes later, it starts ringing a third time and he shoots up like the bed is on fire and looks at you panicked.

“FUCK- I stayed all night and slept in. Jesus fuck m-……’h-hey! HEY baby hey I’m alright sorry. I dozed off in the studio and Josh let me crash at his place since it was closer. Ok-okay yeah. Yep. On my way now. Love you.’ “

The last two words feel like a lash in the face, but you ignore it. Trying to remain unphased. You watch him, and he crawls back across the bed to you.

He takes your face in his hands and says, “I’ll keep coming around, as long as you let me y/n. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it’s not too long in between. But we are leaving for the next state today, so I will text you. I’m sorry I didn’t before but-….” He trails off, stopping any further confession from spilling “…but I have to go.”

He finishes getting dressed and grabs your hand to placing a kiss on top of it.

“I ordered you some breakfast while I was getting my stuff together, it should be here any minute. Until next time, y/n”. You can tell he wants to say something else but his defensive cocky exterior is already rebuilding up as he gets closer to the door.

“See you when I see you, Jake.” You reply calmly.

He looks into your eyes, opens his mouth and closes it again. He nods and walks out the door.

Once the food is delivered you take it to your kitchen quietly smiling at his sneaky little kindness. You sit at your kitchen table and the silence echoing around you suddenly feels heavy.

As if reading your mind, your phone buzzes and it’s a text from Jake.

“Miss you and that body already ;) hope you’re eating your breakfast! Gotta build that energy back up.”

You roll your eyes at him and wipe the tear off your face.

“Thank you”

Your reply mirroring his from last time again.

Shaking off the emotion, setting the phone down you finish your breakfast and turn on your radio to fill the silence.

[snowdrop-ivy]

Favor. | Part 3

Summary: Ari Levinson was an ego embodied in a man. Yep, he's an asshole. Y/N knows it yet she still married him. How? She doesn't know. And now, she doesn't know how to get him to sign the divorce papers.

A/N: Hey! Been MIA because writer's block so I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 4082

Ari was exhausted after their first extraction. He doesn't want to admit it but he cherished the time he could talk to Y/N without the papers and anger to which he still doesn't know where it began. 

Y/N called it a night first but he wanted to stay and be alone with his thoughts. After a pack of cigarettes he went to their room and how the ambiance took away all his stress. Ari wanted to faint from the relaxation of the room, he took a deep breath, and sat on the bed. 

This is the first time he noticed how Y/N changed everything. He looked at his wife sleeping. Oh how cozy she is, her soft ivory skin wearing a lace nightgown which Ari remembered her wearing it all the time, and her scent, her vanilla scent that gets him addicted. Y/N had an eye mask on so she doesn't wake up from the ray of sun.

He changed into nothing. He'll just say sorry in the morning because he is damn sleepy. Ari wrapped himself in a blanket that smelled like lavender. He laid down, staring at the ceiling. He said he was tired but when he laid down, he couldn't sleep. His tense muscles softened when he felt Y/N wrapped him in a warm embrace, her head snuggled against his beating chest. Ari felt her breaths, steady and slow, air hissing to his chest, her soft, warm hands down on his bare chest. His arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, drawing circles, a habit he used to do. He kissed her forehead that made her snuggle him tighter which made Ari laugh. And for what felt like forever, Ari finally slept well.

Y/N groaned at the noise. What is playing on this early morning? She took off her eye mask and she didn't see a bed but she saw a naked Ari once again. She looked up and saw him peacefully sleeping, his breaths slow and even, a light snoring, and his arm wrapped comfortably on her waist. She gulped, not knowing how to go out. Should she wake him? Should she just go? If they are still married, she'd slowly get out. She couldn't do that now because if she did, Ari would wake up, tighten his arms, and it would lead to a morning sex or make out.

But what choice does she have? She can't stay there. She carefully, light as a feather, removed his arm but he still felt it. Y/N groaned internally as Ari hugged her tighter. She doesn't like it. His touch is doing all sorts of things to her; her heartbeats going crazy, there's a knot on her stomach. She doesn't like it... or so she thinks...

"Good morning," Ari's hoarse voice said as he loosened his arm. "Did I wake you?"

Y/N stared at him. His heavy, hooded, blue eyes, the sun gleaming his toned, muscular body, and his bed hair. She couldn't talk. She couldn't move. What is happening?! 

"Hey," He nudged her. "Are you okay?"

Her mouth was agape. She slowly nodded and quickly went to the bathroom, quickly turning on the shower and getting off her clothes to wake herself. What the hell just happened? Did she choke on Ari's naked body? She didn't look at Ari on the way out the room. The staff prepared breakfast and she ate with Rachel and Jake. Of course, she had to tell them what happened.

"Okay?" Jake shrugged. "You always cuddled. What's wrong?"

"No--"

"You didn't cuddle before?" Rachel asked.

"Well, we did."

"So what's wrong?" Jake furrowed his brows.

"I don't know," She slumped on her seat and took a sip of coffee.

"If you don't know, then I can't help you," Jake told her. "But, if you find the answer. You come to me. I'll get my tan now."

They looked at Jake wearing his red underpants, walked to the sun and the guests eyed him with wide eyes and mouths. She and Rachel stayed to talk more, being careful because the staff can hear them.

"I think," She sipped her coffee. "You're scared to trust him again after what happened to you."

She played with her food while Rachel voiced out her thoughts that shot her straight to the heart. "I don't blame you. No one will. Even if you get back with him or not, no one will. You just have to find your peace. You were always selfless, you put him or everyone first before you. That's what I love and hate about you. But now, maybe it's time for you to be selfish."

The day went on to manage the hotel as she gathered her thoughts. Is Rachel right? Is she opening her heart back to him? She doesn't know. Night came and Max asked the staff to take the night off so they could celebrate. 

"Um Leben zu retten," Rachel raised her glass. They all raised their glass and clinked it to each other.

Food was great. Night was fun. They reminisced on their past extractions. They laughed, shared, cried, and drank through the night. Y/N saw it as an opportunity to keep her thoughts under the rug. But Ari didn't, he kept looking at her and she just looked away, everytime. She was seated across from her with Rachel on her side. His legs bounced up and down as he drank the beer. 

The beeper he had buzzed with a message saying. "Code yellow. Comms. TS"

Ari shot Y/N a look. Why is her dad calling him? He eyed her but she dodged his eyes. Ari went to the bus, turned on the comms, and sipped his beer. "GT here. Come in. Over."

"Do you wanna fucking tell me why my daughter is on the mission?!" Tony yelled. Tony is Y/N's dad and also their CEO. "Huh, Levinson! You bring my daughter here right now or I will have them give me your fucking head!"

His senses became alive when Tony yelled. Ari grabbed the radio. "I told you she was here! I had her on my file!"

"Her file is not here, dumbass," Ari can feel Tony's vein popping out his neck in anger. "Listen here, big guy, my daughter had enough of your shortcomings. She lost herself and her baby be—"

"Woah! What baby are you talking about?!" Ari roared through the radio. His nose flaring, eyes burning in madness. He didn't know that. Y/N didn't mention anything, not now not before. Tony did not answer him. "Tony, what baby?"

Tony took his time before answering. He sighed before pressing the button. "She had a miscarriage when you flew to Israel to finalize your previous operation."

Ari's world was already in ruins the moment she filed for divorce, but this? This was different. This new wave of agony gripped him tighter, twisting in his gut like a knife. The weight of it crushed him, made his skin burn as if he were on fire. He didn’t even realize his grip on the beer bottle had tightened until it shattered in his hand. Glass splintered into his skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the storm raging inside him.

With a growl of frustration, he hurled the broken glass to the ground, not caring where the shards landed, and stormed inside the room. The door flew open with a bang, slamming against the wall as he entered, his face contorted with anger, anguish—everything he'd been trying to suppress.

Her head snapped up at the sudden intrusion, eyes widening as she saw him standing there, chest heaving, blood staining his hand from the broken bottle. He was a wreck, teetering on the edge of breaking completely. The sight of him, so raw and broken, sent a shiver down her spine.

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, the silence between them thick with tension. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the pain, the fury. It was the kind of look that shattered any defenses you’d built, making her remember all too clearly what he’d meant to her, and what they both had lost.

"You wanna fucking tell me that we lost our baby?!"

Her world flipped in an instant. Ari's words hit her like a train, leaving her breathless, heart pounding. She instinctively looked at Jake and Rachel, hoping for some kind of intervention, some signal of support, but they stayed silent. They knew this wasn’t their moment to speak. It was between them.

Herwide eyes locked onto Ari, and what she saw made her stomach churn. He was furious. His eyes blazed with a fire that she hadn’t seen in him for a long time—anger, yes, but beneath it, there was pain, betrayal. His nostrils flared, his jaw clenched so hard she could hear the grind of his teeth, and his fists, white-knuckled, slammed down hard on the table.

The sound echoed, reverberating off the walls, making the silence that followed even more suffocating. His demand wasn’t just for words—it was for everything. For an explanation, for clarity, for something to make sense of the madness they’d both been living in. But her mind raced, unable to string together a response. She felt trapped, crushed under the weight of his anguish.

"Answer me, god damn it!" Ari’s voice roared through the room, the force of it making her flinch.

"Who told you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as it caught in her throat. She could feel the pressure building, a heavy knot forming in her chest, and the burning sensation of tears threatening to spill over. But she fought against it, trying to keep control, trying to hold back the flood that was waiting just behind her eyes.

"That's what you can say?!" Ari’s voice, though quieter now, was no less intense. This was the first time she's seen him angry for the decade they've been together. "Who else knew about this?!" His tone was cutting, sharp enough to slice through the tension that gripped the room.

“Ari,” Rachel called softly, her voice trying to cut through the suffocating tension in the room.

He snapped his head toward her, his glare fierce, eyes blazing with anger and confusion. The silence that followed was heavy, almost unbearable, as Rachel held his gaze, unflinching but clearly torn. She glanced briefly at her before turning back to Ari, her face a mixture of empathy and guilt.

"Jake and I knew," she finally admitted, her voice steady though it trembled slightly at the end. "We were there that night. You weren’t."

Ari’s eyes flickered with a storm of emotions—betrayal, frustration, and something far more vulnerable than the fury he had been expressing moments ago. His fists clenched again as the weight of Rachel's words hit him, and the betrayal deepened.

“You knew?” Ari’s voice dropped, quieter now, but with a raw edge. “Both of you knew? And neither of you thought to tell me?” His gaze moved between Rachel and Jake, a silent accusation in his eyes, before settling back on her.

Rachel swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she looked at her, then back at Ari. "It wasn’t our place to tell you," she said, her voice soft but firm. "We were trying to protect Y/N… and you, in a way."

Ari's face contorted, a painful mix of emotions pulling at him. "Protect me from what? From the truth?" He barked out a bitter laugh. "I had a right to know!" He slammed his fist on the table again, making everyone flinch.

Jake, who had been silent until now, finally stepped forward, his face grim. "It wasn't like that, man. It wasn’t our place to tell you. It was between you two."

The room felt colder, heavier with every word, and she felt her heart pound in her chest, trying to find her voice but coming up short. Ari’s gaze finally turned back to her, searching, demanding answers.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice quieter now, but still brimming with hurt. "Is that the truth you've been hiding from me? How can you do that?"

Y/N couldn’t find the strength to speak, her lips quivering as her face became soaked with tears she couldn’t hold back any longer. She looked down, her chest rising and falling with the weight of the emotions suffocating her. She took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper as she finally spoke.

“I called you.”

Ari froze, his anger momentarily flickering into something else—confusion, disbelief. His hardened expression softened, if only for a moment, as he stared at you.

“When?” Ari’s voice cut through the air, cold and sharp, as he set his palms down flat on the table, his fingers splayed out like he was trying to hold himself together. His eyes were hollow now, the fire that once blazed with anger had burned out, leaving only a chilling emptiness behind. He stared at her, his expression unreadable, but the weight of his words hit harder than any fury.

“When you thought about being selfish and just leaving me with nothing?”

“What?” Y/N’s voice rose, trembling but resolute. "I am not selfish," she spat, meeting his eyes with unwavering intensity. She stood up, squaring her shoulders to face him head-on, refusing to back down. "I called you that night, Ari. I called you, and what did you say? You said you had a fucking plane to catch! A plane!"

Ari blinked, taken aback by the venom in her words, but he remained silent. He could see the fire in her eyes now, a fire he hadn’t noticed was there—perhaps because he hadn’t been looking.

"I tried everything to be your priority. Everything!" Y/N’s voice wavered, but her determination was unshaken. "But you didn’t. You couldn’t even show up when I needed you most. So I stopped trying."

Ari’s expression softened, his fury beginning to fade. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came out. His shoulders slumped just a little, and for the first time, Y/N saw the flicker of something else in his eyes—regret.

“I was never selfish,” she continued, her voice quieter now, yet each word cut deeper. "I was just... tired. Tired of feeling like I didn’t matter. Tired of fighting for a place in your life when you were never really there."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Ari's hands, once fisted in rage, trembled slightly, the fight draining out of him. He finally looked at her, truly looked at her, and for the first time, Y/N saw a crack in his armor. His anger was gone, replaced by something else—something more vulnerable, more broken.

“I stopped trying, Ari,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely a breath now. "Because you stopped seeing me."

The two of them stood there, the distance between them feeling wider than ever, yet tethered by the raw truth laid bare. Neither knew what to say next. The weight of years of miscommunication and unspoken pain sat heavy in the room, pressing on both of them. And for the first time in a long time, Ari seemed to realize just how much he had lost without ever knowing it.

Ari stormed out of the room, barely registering where his feet were taking him until he found himself on the shore. The crashing waves mirrored the chaos inside his head. Without thinking, he let loose all the pent-up frustration and agony, screaming into the vast emptiness around him. His voice was raw, desperate, filled with the pain he hadn’t let himself feel until now.

Ari spent a restless night at the reception, weighed down by the events of the previous day. He avoided Y/N, knowing she needed space, and settled on the uncomfortable wooden sofa, the splinters digging into him. When morning came, loud music jolted him awake. Disoriented, he noticed a familiar blanket—Y/N’s—draped over him, carrying the faint scent of lavender.

After pushing himself off the sofa, Ari stepped outside to the bright sunlight, scanning the empty hotel lobby before spotting Max, who was instructing guests with what looks like exercise. They exchanged nods, a silent understanding passing between them.

As Ari walked around the hotel, he was struck by the laughter of families by the beach, a stark reminder of the joy he felt he had lost. Regret washed over him, but he pushed it aside.

"How'd you sleep?" Jake asked, lounging on the recliner in his signature red underwear, a lazy grin plastered on his face.

"Okay," Ari answered while looking around. "What's going on around here?"

"Well, your brochure mentioned the daily relaxing Tai Chi class: Irving. Liam is doing laundry because he lost a bet. Angela went shopping after giving a massage to a hairy Nazi. Your wife is serving breakfast for the hunky Germans. And now I'm giving a diving tour, which starts in exactly twelve minutes, as per your fucking brochure," He cursed, standing up, and glancing at his wristwatch. "Care to--"

"Germans?"

Jake chuckled. "See for yourself," He pointed in Y/N's direction with his head and walked away.

Ari’s heart twisted as he watched her, his chest tightening at the sight. Y/N was busy serving plates in that bright yellow sundress, the fabric swaying gently with her movements. She wore an apron that looked a bit oversized, giving her a charmingly disheveled look. Despite the attention from the German guests—who were clearly trying their luck with her—she wore a genuine smile, laughter lighting up her features.

But when she glanced his way and their eyes locked, her smile faltered just slightly. There was a softness in her gaze that betrayed the sadness lingering beneath the surface. Her eyes were puffy, evidence of a night spent in tears, yet even in that vulnerable state, Ari found her stunning. The sunlight danced around her, casting a warm glow that made her look almost ethereal, like a mirrorball reflecting light in all directions.

Ari's heart ached. It was as if the universe had conspired to remind him of all he could lose. In that moment, he realized that no matter how much pain had passed between them, she still had the power to take his breath away.

Y/N felt her heart drop the moment she caught sight of Ari. The empty space where he should have been the nights had given her the time to cry, to confront the whirlwind of emotions she’d been battling. Guilt weighed heavily on her chest; despite his faults, Ari deserved to know the truth.

As the boys and Rachel headed into the diving class, Y/N remained seated at the dinner table, lost in her thoughts. The sound of approaching cars broke her concentration, drawing her attention. She instinctively turned her head toward the noise, heart racing with anticipation.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N stood up and walked outside, scanning the area for the source of the commotion. Her gaze landed on Sammy, who was lounging on the boat. She raised her hand and signaled to him, hoping he could shed some light on the unexpected arrival. 

"Ah! It's the Missus," Col. Abdel Ahmed exclaimed. "Where's your husband?"

"Diving."

"Let's pay him a visit, shall we?" He smiled and walked with his armed men towards the shore.

Y/N clenched her jaw and internally groaned before following them.

Ari was immersed in the vibrant underwater world, marveling at the breathtaking corals surrounding him. A fleeting thought of how much Y/N would appreciate this beauty crossed his mind. Just as he felt the tug of the line, he swam back up to the boat, pulling off his mask as he surfaced.

"What's up?" he asked, shaking off the water.

Sammy's expression was serious as he glanced toward the shore. "Turn around."

Ari spun around and cursed under his breath at the sight before him. Military personnel were advancing, and behind them stood Y/N, looking vulnerable and out of place. His heart raced as he called for Jake and Max to join him, urgency propelling him back to the shore.

He rushed straight to Y/N, worry etched on his face, before turning his attention to Abdel, who stood imposingly beside her. "Hello, how can I help you?" Ari greeted, maintaining a calm facade while his gaze flickered back to his wife, desperately trying to gauge her state.

"There's been an incident last night, and we wanted to make sure that all of them in the hotel are safe," The colonel said, looking at Ari's hand that's placed on YN's waist.

Ari turned to Y/N, confused. Trying to sound confused. "What kind of incident?"

"Smugglers," He answered, then turned back and started walking to their trucks. Their trucks that Y/N repaired early this morning. "They drove through one of our roadblocks last night. Nearly killed two of my soldiers."

Ari followed him but he placed Y/N behind his back. "I heard there's a smuggling problem up and down the coast. I hope no one was hurt."

Abdel looked at him. Ari's eyebrows knotted and his hands gripped Y/N's hand tighter when Colonel started to laugh heartily. He then started to inspect the trucks.

"I know they look like shit but they run forever," Y/N said and tried to get past Ari but he wouldn't let him.

The Colonel took off his sunglasses. "My soldiers shot the trucks."

"Did they?" Y/N asked mockingly which made Ari grip on her hand tighter. She tried to escape his hand but he wouldn't budge. "You're free to check both of them."

"I will," He smirked. "Why don't you show me around?"

"No," Ari firmly answered. He looked at him dead in the eyes. "I'll show you around."

He laughed again and walked to the back of the truck. "There's no reason why your trucks should have bullet holes, Mister... Thomas. Guy Thomas." He said while examining the back of the truck.

"No," Ari replied and followed him. "No reason."

Abdel tapped and looked for bullet holes but found none. He raised his brows and yelled at his men in their local language. He glared at Ari before examining the truck again.

"I hope you come and visit us again real soon," Ari put his hand on his hips. His fingertips turned white from his balled fist. 

"I will," He answered, eyeing Y/N up and down. "Goodbye. Mrs. Thomas." He bid, gazing at her with lust on his eyes and voice.

Y/N raised her head, not answering him. They went in on their trucks and left the building. Once they left, Ari kicked down a can before going inside and calling all of them in a meeting. Y/N stood by the fridge while Sammy was on his side. Ari and Max are leaning on both sides of the door. Rachel and Jake sat down on the counter sharing a cigarette.

"I think I shat my pants," Jake chuckled as he passed the cigar to Rachel.

"That's probably why you smell," Max joked and we all laughed except for Ari who's blankly staring at the guests.

"Yeah, if that soldier hadn't been too scared to admit he's missed, we'd all be locked up right now," Sammy said and we all agreed.

"Come here," Ari nudged with his fingers. They all went to his side except for Y/N who stayed in her place. "What do you see?"

"Unsuspecting collateral damage," Max answered.

"Best cover we could ask for," Rachel nodded her head in Y/N's place. She gave her a light smile. 

They all went into their own rooms and took the day off. Not much has to be done but Y/N planned ahead for the next guests and extradition. She took her notebook out and wrote it all down. Planned to the exact details. Days came and passed with guests and extractions coming in. She hasn't talked to Ari in eleven days to be exact. She doesn't know where he's staying and for her it was... sad. A glimpse of her thought that this operation would make them return to where they were before. To their happily married selves but it didn't. Hell, brought them apart even. She sat down on the sand with a blanket wrapped around her as she played with the sand. She didn't even realize that the tears were falling down her cheeks. Y/N felt the sand once again as she resembled the ashes of their late kid on a keychain on her other hand. 

She decided to hide it when she felt Ari sat down beside him. Even while sitting down he still hovered over her with his big, muscular frame. He extended his leg and propped his hands on the sand. Not an inch of space was between them as she could feel his cargo pants hitting her bare leg.

“Hey,” Ari greeted after several moments of comfortable silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N turned her gaze toward him, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Hi.”

He held her gaze, drinking in the sight of her. The puffiness under her eyes and the faint bags that lingered there, the redness of her nose from too many sniffles, and the way she nervously bit her bottom lip—all of it struck him deeply. She was still cute, just like before. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, and his heart sank as he watched fresh tears spill down her cheeks.

He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, letting her lean into his touch. “I was a jerk. I loved you, but I didn’t care for you enough to make you stay.”

Y/N closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his palms against her skin. “Do you wanna know what the hardest part was, aside from keeping it from you?”

He shook his head, urging her silently to continue.

Her eyes locked onto his, and he could see the sadness swirling within them, making them glisten. “It’s that I knew,” she sniffed, allowing him to wipe away her tears. “When I saw the blood, I knew it. And I didn’t even get the chance to enjoy him…”

Her words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of everything they had lost, and Ari felt a tight knot form in his chest.

Ari hugged her when her voice broke. He let her cry in his arms. Her loud sobs were breaking his heart, his soul, his entirety. For the duration of their marriage and relationship Ari maintained to make her cry of happy tears and happy tears only so now that it's not happy tears, he doesn't know what to do but just hold her and pray to every God he knows to take her pain away because she doesn't deserve this. She didn't deserve him.

Y/N poured her heart out to him for the first time and it made her... calm. Crying in his arms calmed him. Her sadness seemed to wash away like the waves on the shore. She stayed in his arms for what seemed like forever. She sniffed his scent; his masculine, beer-reeking, smoke-y scent. She took a deep breath before looking up at him. An inch of space between them is making her smell his minty breath. He gazed at her then at her lips and back to her eyes. She noticed it; the hunger and anticipation in his eyes. Slowly, he leaned in until she closed her eyes and felt his lips on her. Oh how soft it was. At that moment, they felt like they're back in their own world. That they're not in an operation. That everything was better than before. His familiar lips move in a slow, steady way making sure she's comfortable. And she is, she opened her mouth to let his tongue in. His hands wrapped on her waist, not sure where to put them. Their kiss ended before they could continue. Their foreheads pressed together, neither wanting it to be sure that this is happening. Their breaths panting from the exhausting, but great, kiss.

Ari saw the answer he was looking for in her eyes. Then, in an instant, she realized they're already in their room. Her back pressed against the bed and he wasn't far, he never let even an inch of space take between them. She opened her eyes to see him taking off his clothes and smiling at her, before savoring her lips again, the kiss that made her want him more. Just like always. Every feeling she had for him was thrown at the sea and she can feel her feelings resurfaced for him.

He helped her out of her shirt, his eyes viewing her naked body that he kept imagining for the past year. Y/N noticed his pupils dilated when he met her eyes. He squeezed her waist gently before sucking on her neck like a hungry dog, sucking on it gently like a bone. She gave more access to him as she moaned out his name. He continued peppering her neck then moving to her breasts; he placed a wet kiss on her nipples then sucked them like how she liked it: hard. Like an infant sucking milk out of it. Her hands made their way to his hair, gripping on it in exchange for the pleasure he's giving. 

"Oh Ari..." She moaned as he planted kisses to her body as he moved between her legs, burying his face on her wet, heated core, nibbling on her lips, eating the familiar sweetness she has. Ari made her alive that night from all the nights she had with him, this was different and exciting. She could feel the wetness of her core from his sucking that made her push his face closer to her .

"I fucking missed this," He whispered before standing. Y/N propped her arms watching him slowly take off his pants. His large member tipping with pre-cum bounced lightly when he took off his boxers. "Did you miss this honey?"

Y/N hadn't had the time to answer because Ari slammed his lips on her making her taste her own juices. His hands kneaded her breasts while slowly inserting his member. Y/N shivered and moaned when she felt him again. The universe aligned when he entered her. Slowly and gently, Ari moved until he felt all of him was inside. Then gradually increasing speed and rhythm just how she likes it.

She did. Loved it. She tugged on her hair, moaning out his name while they sloppily kissed each other. Her pussy was so wet that he was able to slide in and out without hassle. Y/N watched him as he quickened his pace, gripping on her hips as he pressed down on her clit. 

Ari was moaning in her ear, growling how he missed her cunt, nibbling on her ear while she continued to scream his name and get lost in euphoria. She knew he was close because he started to lose his rhythm and he started to cup her face.

Y/N looked at the intensity of his eyes burning with passion. "I'm close..." Ari groaned. She moaned as an answer, getting close as well. He thrusted deep, slowly while staring at you as he poured himself inside of her. Ari cupped her face making her look at him as she saw the burning passion on his blue eyes. "I love you..."

Ari slammed his body after taking orgasms one after the other that night. He gathered her in his strong arms, holding her on his chest. He kissed her head gently as he whispered how much he loves her over and over again before dozing off to dreamland.

The next morning was tough, awkward, and embarrassing. Y/N woke up first and thankfully, they're not cuddling. She got dressed and found the first coffee she could get. She drank it at the far side of the resort and hid there. She is hiding there until this is done.

What the fuck just happened? Was her first thought

Second, he loves her?

Y/N heard it repeatedly, clearly. And it got her messy heart and mind to get messier than it is. Y/N heard Rachel call her out, which she was thankful for. Rachel sat down and snatched her coffee. It didn't take long before Y/N spilled what was going on. Rachel just listened. She knew what happened. She heard. But, it wasn't her place to make assumptions because she's their friend.

"So, what are you going to do?" Rachel asked as she lit a cigarette before sharing it to her.

Y/N shrugged. She looked at the resort where Ari was wandering around, probably looking for her. Rachel stopped asking questions, she just consoled in her silence because they both know that she doesn't know what to do. Of course, they cannot hide there forever and Rachel successfully got Y/N to work and assist their Japanese guests.

Ari took it as a chance to talk to Rachel when he saw Y/N busy at the front desk. "What'd she say?"

"Nothing."

"What'd she tell you?"

"Everything."

"What should I do?"

"Something?"

"Which is?"

Rachel looked at her dead in the eyes before glancing at Y/N. "Make it up to her."

>>Part 2<< >>Part 4<<

[karatekels]

Fresh Start - Days 10 & 11

I made myself cry writing this. (This part wasn't meant to be sad)

Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Days 8 & 9

(Future chapters posted below!)

---

Day 10

It’s 8:57, and you are pacing in the hotel lobby, irritating passersby without really noticing. Terry would be here any minute.

Everything would be fine. Sure, the first few minutes will be awkward; this is the first time you are seeing him since your silly, one-off, utterly meaningless dream the other night.

Right.

Your final plan on how to handle this was, mainly, to ignore it. If something came up, or he noticed you acting strangely, you would play it off with some half-truths. You spent most of your time joking around when you were together anyway; this would be no different. And who knows, maybe you wouldn’t see him any differently; it had just been a dream, after all.

A cherry red Ferrari pulls up, Terry’s silvery hair unmistakable, and you take a deep breath, keeping your head down. Maybe if he’s sitting beside you with his eyes on the road, you can adjust to being in his presence again.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

Looking up, you see Terry has gotten out of the car and circled around, leaning against the front passenger door casually as he waits and looking down at you with concern.

You bite your tongue hard, hoping that the pain can distract your body from the flood of desire and embarrassment that runs through you, because you can’t help but drink him in with your eyes. He has his hair tied back in a slick ponytail today, wearing jeans and a black, short-sleeved shirt, the zipper undone and revealing his throat. You knew that he was strong the first time you laid eyes on him, but the snug fit of this shirt leaves far less to your imagination. You manage to drag your gaze away from how tight his sleeves are around his muscled arms, and try to snap out of it, looking up at him with what you hope is a convincing smile.

“Morning, Terry!” you chirp up at him, pleased that you were still happy to see him beneath all of the… complications. “I’m great, just tired.”

“No late-night drinking benders, I hope?” he teases, pushing off the car and walking up to you. Wanting to maintain a sense of normalcy (and not being able to contain yourself), you give him a hug.

Somehow, feeling his bare arms wrapped around you in the hug seems far more intimate than the hugs he’s given you in the past, and you feel a similar jolt of electricity as what you experienced in your dream at the skin-to-skin contact with him. At the same time, you feel your anxiety leaving your body, comforted by his embrace and the scent of his cologne. How was he able to give you butterflies and relax you all at once?

“No, just not getting restful sleep the past few nights,” you say, hiding a yawn behind your hand after he releases you.

“Are you sure you’re up for today? It’ll be a lot of walking.” His blue eyes feel like they’re trying to dig into your mind, mining it for information.

“You’re not getting out of this that easily, Mr. Silver!”

You make to move around him to the passenger door, but he cuts you off, opening it for you with a bow of his head. Him and his damn chivalry.

“Very well; your chariot awaits, Miss.”

Rolling your eyes, you hop in, buckling your seatbelt. Childish as it is, you’re excited; you’ve never ridden in a convertible before. He climbs back into the driver’s seat, seeming to sense your enthusiasm, his mouth twitching slightly in amusement, though he chooses not to comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the highway.

The ride to the botanic gardens isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as you had worried it would be, and you breathe a sigh of relief that gets lost in the breeze as you look out over the ocean. Today would be good; you wanted it to be a day you looked back on with fond memories once… once you went home.

But you would try not to think about that today.

Turning your attention back to your surroundings, you hear something underneath the sounds of the wind whipping through your hair and the radio playing “Hotel California”.

The sound – you’re sure now, as you sneakily try to lean closer – is coming from Terry, humming along with the melody of the song. You lean back against your seat with a smile, tilting your head towards Terry to better hear his baritone harmonizing with the radio. You wait until the song finishes before clapping your hands quietly.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t have a lot experience watching live music, but I believe that it is traditional for the audience to applaud after a performance.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You were singing along!”

“No I wasn’t,” he says, but with the way his hair is tied back today you can see the side of his face and his neck, both of which start to redden slightly. You fight back a giggle; Terry was embarrassed!

“Yes you were,” you insist, turning fully towards him. “It was lovely.”

“Maybe I’ll put the roof on the car on the ride home; the wind has clearly impacted your hearing.”

“Do you ever do anything you’re not great at? If such a thing exists, I mean,” you ask him admiringly, breezing right past his denials and attempts to change the subject.

“If you’re going to act like a bratty child, I will put you in the backseat where you belong.”

“I’ve never seen you self-conscious before; it’s kind of adorable!”

You see him roll his eyes behind his sunglasses, but you catch him fighting back a smile. The off-ramp approaches, and Terry takes the exit without another word, still smiling softly as you turn into the parking lot of the garden.

---

You head up to the front, pleased that Terry has held up his end of the bargain and is letting you pay for admission to the garden. Sure, it’s nothing compared to what he has spent on you over the past week, but it was the principle of the thing. Now that you were here, your fatigue had largely disappeared, replaced with excitement about getting to surround yourself with nature for the day.

“Come on, let’s go!” you say, bouncing on the tips of your toes as you run up to him.

“You know, this isn’t something we have to rush through,” he says, smirking down at you. “We have all the time in the world.”

If only that were the case…

Feeling your face start to crumple at the thought, you turn on your heel, bounding down the path through the meadow section of the garden as you try to compose your features once more. Taking a deep breath, you let the tension in your body go, trying to focus on soaking in the beauty of the nature around you. And it works, the fresh air, the sun, the sweet scent of the flowers, all of it works to calm you and ground you in the moment once more.

“I haven’t seen this kind of enthusiasm for a park from anyone who wasn’t a golden retriever,” he jokes, watching you zigzag up the path as you try to take everything in at once. You roll your eyes at him.

“Oh, don’t be a jerk. L.A. is 80% concrete and traffic; you can’t tell me it doesn’t feel wonderful to be away from it all!”

“I never said it didn’t. I merely commented on you flitting around the flowers like a bumblebee,” he corrects you smoothly, looking down at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Mocking the generous benefactor who got you in here is poor form, Sir,” you tease, keeping pace with him as you approach the woodlands. Terry automatically adjusts his pace so you aren’t jogging to keep up with him.

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, don’t you think?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Hey, sarcasm is my coping mechanism when I’m uncomfortable!” you retort, realizing it was the wrong thing to say as Terry’s feet stop moving, reeling from the comment as though you’ve struck him.

“I make you uncomfortable?” he asks in a low voice, his face a blank mask, though you can hear the pain in his tone. You balk, feeling horrible, and quickly close the distance between you two to reassure him.

“No, Terry, I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t make me uncomfortable at all, I promise,” you soothe, taking one of his hands in your own and giving it a squeeze. Not uncomfortable in the sense he was thinking anyway, you think to yourself, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you hold his hand. He needed you to be his friend right now.

“It’s not you, it’s the differences between us,” you explain, pleased when he finally looks you in the eye. “We’ve talked a bit about it before; sometimes it’s hard to see you as just a regular person instead of this established, wealthy benefactor who has decided to scoop me up and give me a taste of the good life. I… I don’t like feeling like I have nothing to offer you in return, so I just make jokes to take my mind off it, I guess,” you finish lamely, your voice quiet. Now it’s you who isn’t able to meet his gaze, and you try to turn away, but Terry holds fast to your hand, interlacing your fingers with his own.

“Can you try to imagine how rare it is for me to come across someone who isn’t trying to use me for my money?” he asks, his voice despondent. “I have lived through decades of peoples’ promises, threats, manipulations, seductions, you name it. I have been a lonely man. And then you show up, willing to spend your short time here with me, treating me like an actual person, like a friend…” he takes a deep breath, and you force yourself to look up and see him smiling affectionately down at you. “My dear, you have offered me what no one else has. Do not ever think that there is an imbalance between us; I am beyond grateful that you have allowed me to know you.”

You’re both silent after his confession, the sounds of the outside world muffled by the gigantic redwood trees, making you feel like the only two people in the world. You feel tears prick your eyes at his confession, pleased and overwhelmed that he seems to feel the same connection as you do. Recklessly, you bury your face against his chest and hug him tightly, trying to hold yourself together to keep from crying into his shirt.

“I’m really going to miss you,” you confess, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “It’s why I was quiet the last few days.” A big reason why, anyway. “We can still talk after I go home, right?” you ask, looking up at him and trying not to be embarrassed by your unshed tears.

“There are few things I would like more, Y/N,” Terry says tenderly, running a hand up and down your shoulders. You feel yourself relax at the gesture; he really was great at everything.

“But we don’t have to worry about that yet, right?” he asks, stepping away from you, his expression somehow serene after the conversation you had just had. “Now, go play,” he says with a mischievous smile, shooing you away with a hand.

“W-What?” you ask, laughing nervously through your sniffles.

“Go bound through the woods for a moment like a border collie, like you were before; you’ll feel better.”

 “Are you being serious?!”

“Dead serious,” he says solemnly, though he cracks a grin. “I’ll catch up, and when I do you can tell me how right I am.”

You look up at him suspiciously, trying to gauge his intentions, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Are you really going to make an old man chase you? I will, but I won’t be happy about it.”

Giggling, you turn and force yourself to jog through the woods on the dirt path. You feel ridiculous at first, but quickly find the movement filling you with a buoyancy, washing away the awkwardness and emotions of your conversation; it’s like a weight has been lifted now that you’ve expressed some previously unspoken thoughts to one another.

Terry catches up with you awhile later as you sit on the grass by the bridge crossing the river to the other half of the park, his shoes barely making a sound against the ground as he approaches. He casts a shadow over you, and you bend your neck back to see him looking down at you as though waiting for something.

“You were right, Terry,” you sigh, and he gives you a cheeky grin. You feel like things are back to normal between you, and are immensely grateful. Ignoring his proffered hand, you hop to your feet, grumbling about “stupid smug kajillionaires” until he’s chuckles drown them out.

---

The next hour or so of your walk is smooth, the two of you returning to your typical witty banter as you take in the sights around you. You’ve nearly finished the loop around the park, when you turn the corner to a shall wooden building surrounded by smaller gardens, the Japanese kana out front making it feel a bit out of place here in California.

As you approach, you spot a sign out front reading Shin Kan An Teahouse, offering teachings on the Urasenke traditional Japanese tea ceremony. Unfortunately, it appears to be closed for the month.

“That’s a shame,” you say with a slight frown. “That sounds kind of cool.”

“I could tell you about it, if you wish.”

 You turn to look up at him with a curious expression. “Why would you know about something like this?”

“I’m actually quite well-versed in Japanese culture, for an American at least.”

“Really? That’s so cool! Why the interest?” you ask, and he gives you a slightly bittersweet smile.

As you continue your walk past the teahouse, Terry regales you with the long story: how he was actually an expert martial artist, having trained alongside a friend and war-buddy (he mostly skips past his time as a soldier in the Vietnam War), and you reach over to squeeze his hand in comfort. The two of you had opened up a karate dojo here in California years ago called Cobra Kai, but that had closed down shortly before you were born. He still practiced karate as a type of meditative fitness, and collected Japanese weaponry, alcohol, art, promising to show you his collection before you left.

You feel a warmth in your stomach as Terry shares all of this with you. He was a rather private person, preferring to discuss the future, or yourself, or whatever you were engaged with at the time rather than his history up to this point, and you feel even closer to him. He trusted you with things that left him emotionally vulnerable, things that he preferred to keep locked away. You’re very appreciative of the gesture.

 After a long walk that has taken up the morning and a bit of the afternoon, the signs along the path indicate that you’ve almost reached the parking lot, completing your journey.

“Would you allow me my equivalent of running through the forest?” he asks you quietly, and you understand that he’s asking for a moment alone to get his thoughts and emotions under control. Your heart goes out to him, and you nod, giving him a soft smile.

“Of course, Terry. I’ll go find us a seat somewhere in the shade!”

You wander down the path, not looking back, wanting to give him privacy, returning to zigzagging along the path as you take your time to survey the flowers.

--- Terry’s POV ---

He finds you without difficulty a short time later, seated on a bench surrounded by hydrangeas in varying shades of blue, purple and pink, looking like a faerie queen communing with the flowers. Spotting him, you wave him over with a bright smile and he heads directly towards you, keeping his hands hidden behind his back as he approaches.

He is grateful for the space you have given him; it was always difficult for him to talk about his past, about John… but he was glad that he had told you. It wouldn’t be fair of him to convince you to build your future with him without trusting you with his past. And you had opened up to him as well today, nearly sobbing in his arms as you confessed that you were going to miss him. He had been torn about it at the time; partly heartbroken at your pain, partly elated that your pain was because you were already upset at the thought of leaving him. It would be easier to convince you to stay now, surely; it would have to be. You had expressed interest in seeing his private collection of Japanese artifacts before you left – that would be the ideal setting to lay out his feelings, his very heart in front of you, and convince you to make them your own.

“I was about to start organizing a search party!” you chirp up at him as he comes to a stop in front of you. You tilt your head to the side when he doesn’t respond, content to just look at you for a moment before wordlessly handing his gift out to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, accepting the poorly-disguised book.

“You can’t go one day with out spoiling me, can you, Mr. Silver?” you tease, though he can hear a slight tremor in your tone; you were still a bit uncomfortable receiving gifts from him, even after your conversation. That was something you’d learn to get over; he fully intended to shower you in gifts in perpetuity.

“What in the world could it be?” you gasp mockingly, theatrically shaking the book like it was a box containing a mystery. He rolls his eyes playfully at your antics.

“You know, most people are appreciative and polite when they are given a gift,” he points out, taking a seat beside you on the bench, as close to you as he can be. Hunched over your gift as you are, he slyly extends his arm along the back of the bench behind you, like a snake unraveling its coils in preparation to wrap around its prey.

“I like to think I’ve struck the perfect balance between appreciative and snarky,” you retort with a cheeky grin up at him before turning back to the book in your hands, untying the string and removing the brown paper that wrapped it.

Terry leans forward imperceptibly, wanting to watch your reaction, and is rewarded with a soft, sweet smile that breaks across your face, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, stroking the gold embossing that adorns the green hardcover affectionately with your fingers, and he yearns to receive the same treatment.

The book was a botanical guide on the plants found within the garden, complete with hand-painted illustrations; it was one-of-a-kind. It had been a gift commissioned by the proprietors of the Teahouse to commemorate its addition to the botanical gardens in the 90’s, and had been on display in the garden’s Blaksley Library ever since. Well, until ten or so minutes ago.

But you didn’t need to know that; he knew you didn’t understand his desire to own originals.

He wonders if the new Silver trail through the redwoods will be finished the next time he brings you here; his phone call with the garden’s director had led to a sizable donation to the landmark in exchange for the book, and he had been promised a new, dedicated trail in his honour as a gesture of goodwill.

“I know it won’t quite fit in with the existential library you packed, but I hope it makes its way into your collection back home. I thought it would be the perfect souvenir to represent your time here.” With me, he adds in his head. Now, no matter what happened, something of him would be in your life forever.

Cradling the book to your chest like a cherished newborn, you turn to look up at him with a dazzling smile before launching yourself at him, throwing an arm around his neck and hugging him tightly. Terry instinctively wraps his arms around you, one at your waist and the other at your shoulders, resisting the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“I love it,” you whisper in his ear. “Thank you.”

You loosen your grip on him after a long moment, and he reluctantly lets you go, noting your flushed cheeks with a deep pleasure. He is so, so tempted to push for more, to tease you about your blush, to confess his feelings for you, to simply take your soft cheek in his hand and kiss you breathless.

Instead, he falls into the pattern of banter that you are both accustomed to, not wanting to risk testing the waters. It still wasn’t the right time; he needed to make everything perfect.

“All appreciation and no snark, huh?” he remarks, looking down at you with a smile. “I knew you could do it! I’m proud of you, Y/N,” he teases, pleased to see that you’re too fond of his gift to glare at him playfully, the way he had come to expect.

“Am I really as horrendous as you like making me out to be?” you ask him with a slight smile, flipping through the pages of the book reverently.

“No, my dear,” he murmurs softly, noting that your cheeks were still the same lovely shade of pink as the illustration of the flower you were currently looking at. “That’s not how I see you at all.”

Day 11

You need a day to yourself after yesterday’s wilderness adventure. After the garden, Terry had driven the two of you to a nice patio for lunch before taking you back to the hotel. You were quite tired, the long day of walking in the sun, the emotional rollercoaster of the day, and the days of poor sleep were really working against you, and you found yourself falling asleep before the sun had even set.

Waking up early the next morning, the first thing you do is check your phone. You had missed a few texts from Terry last night, asking if you wanted to come over today to check out the rest of his home. You contemplate your decision as you brush your teeth and get dressed. Of course you wanted to spend the day with him; you only had a few days left. But you also think you could benefit from some time to yourself, especially since spending all of your remaining time together would just make going home harder than it needed to be.

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you reply to Terry’s messages:

                                                Hey, sorry for the late reply;                                                 I fell asleep really early last                                                 night.

                                                I have some things I need to                                                 do today – gifts and junk for                                                 people back home.

                                                Could we meet up tomorrow                                                 instead?

You’re surprised when he immediately responds – it was still quite early in the morning – but you smile at the thought that he had been anxiously awaiting your response:

Tomorrow will be fine. Come over around noon?

                                                Sounds great to me!

Should I pick you up or have a car sent for you?

                                                No need, I can drive!

                                                Just send me your address;                                                 I’m not sure how to get there                                                 the non-trespassing way. 😉

If you insist. Victor will have to let you in; I’ll make sure to warn him in advance.

                                                Yet another reason to look                                                 forward to tomorrow! :D

                                                I’ll see you then, Terry!

Enjoy your day, Y/N.

Well, that was that settled. Now what to actually do with your day? You hadn’t really planned on bringing home souvenirs for anyone; maybe your mom, but you had planned on just doing that at the airport while you waited for your flight.

Your eyes fall on the beautiful book that Terry had gotten you, and you are hit with inspiration. You would find Terry something; a gift, something to represent your time together, as he had done for you.

You quickly finish getting ready for the day, grabbing your bag and heading out, determined to accomplish your mission.

---

You return to the hotel hours later, frustrated and disappointed.

Of course you hadn’t found anything to give Terry. What could you possibly buy for him that he couldn’t have purchased himself?

Scowling, you flop onto your bed in defeat, groaning into the covers.

What were you going to do? You were running out of time to find something, and you were completely out of ideas.

You roll over and sit up, trying to think. Here, Terry, these light bulbs I took from the lamps in my hotel room. Something to remember me by!

You can’t help but laugh at the image of going through with such a ridiculous notion, but stop as your eyes fall onto your tote bag, destroyed upon your first meeting with Terry. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to throw it away, and had been toying with the idea of calling down to the front desk to see if they had a complementary sewing kit. You weren’t a seamstress by any means, but you figured you could fix it. Looking at it now, though, you have another idea.

Reaching across the bed to the hotel landline, you call down and request a sewing kit before retrieving the botanical guide, sitting up against the headboard, flipping through it and looking for inspiration.

You had work to do.

---

Day 12-A | Day 12-B | Day 13-A | Day 13-B | Day 13-C | Day 14-A | Day 14-B | Day 14-C

[the-fiction-witch]

Book Worm

Media Lewis

Character Adam Douglas

Couple Adam X Reader

Rating Sweet af

"God this is dull..." Adam sighed as he leaned back on the blanket laid against the grass outside the dorm being used for the trial, picking the grass up with his hand. Dressed in his usual red button-down and black jeans the trial had been going on for three days now and another four more to go. Adam looks to the rest of the trial participants who all sit listening to the doctor running the trial recite poetry and rolls his eyes at how they hang on to his basic poetry explanation, and he glances to the side to the only other of the participants who are not drooling over the doctor, Y/n sits in the grass with her book barely listening to the doctor she wears her little Mary Jane shoes, her black tights, a white long sleeve shirt and a black pinafore dress her hair in pigtails with purple dip-dyed ends, she briefly peers over her black glasses as she heard adam sighing, 

He turned towards her. "What are you reading?" He asked quietly,

"ummm? Ohh the witchfinders" She blushed surprised he was talking to her,

He smiled almost amused, "So I take it you read a lot?"

"I guess so..." She admits, 

Adam smiled again. He could tell this girl was a bit nerdy. He really liked that. “You go here then?”

“I am yeah, do you?”

“Yeah, I do, it's strange we’ve never come across one another before now,”

“I know, still it is nice to be here with you,”

“Yeah, it's nice having another Uni kid doing this too…” He smiled, "What do you study?" He asked,

"ohh, ancient mythology, digital media analytics and literature" she blushed "I was doing poetry last year too but I dropped it"

"So are you a bookworm then?" He asked jokingly. 

"I guess so, what are you studying?"

"I study classics," Adam says.

"ohh don't you need Latin for classics?"

"Not just Latin," Adam laughs. "Greek, Roman, Egyptian, you know, the whole lot." he explained mostly trying to show off to this girl as it was obvious she making her way into his heart. She was smart, nerdy, quiet, reserved, and attractive.

"that's very impressive, I take if you don't have much time with classics to do any electives?"

"Not really," Adam says, "Classics is a rather intense course. And I'm going for first class honours, so I have to keep my grades at a high standard.”

"I hope so wouldn't want you working yourself too hard." She smiled "You really think you'll be able to get first-class honours for classics? I thought you needed like to never drop below a C for that"

Adam laughs, "I've never worked this hard to get good grades before, but I'm certainly confident I can do it. And yeah, first-class honours requires you to basically never drop below a C grade. I need to do the same for my other subjects as well." he smirked, "But I'll definitely succeed. I'm one of the smartest people at Oxford."

"you sound like it. Well, I believe in you" she smiled,

"Thank you," he says quietly, "You know, you should come by and see my room once we've moved into the dorms and once we've started lessons. Maybe we can read some books together?”

she blushed hard "ohh uhh yeah that could be nice, do you know what dorm you're moving into?"

"Dormitory 6," he said confidently. "I'm actually in the process of packing some of my things. If you're free, you should come by the dorm once everything is sorted. And my room is number 316. Just pop your head over and I'll show you my Classics books."

she giggled clutching her book to her chest “I’d like that,”

Adam couldn't believe how easy she was making this. She was accepting this without question. This meant she certainly liked him. He felt himself relax a little bit, and his heart beat quickened when she giggled. He couldn't wait to keep on winning her affection. He looked forward to when he could finally be alone with her in his room. “What about you?”

"I uhhh... I'm in dormitory six this year too..."

Adam's heart skipped a beat. It seemed as if the stars aligned in more ways than one. They were both in dormitory 6. It was meant to be. His heart beat quickened even more when he realised this. Maybe he could really take this girl on a date. This is going so well.

He looked over at her. He could see the light of joy in her eyes. He smiled, and began to plot a way to officially ask this girl out. He had to make it clear he was interested.

"Really? So we're going to be neighbours," he laughs, "that's really funny." he decides to take a chance. "You know, it'd be a real shame if you only got to read my books in the dorm. How about I take you for coffee sometime after lessons start? Maybe we could find a quiet café somewhere and we could just spend the whole afternoon talking."

“I think that would be really nice, Adam right?”

“Yeah Adam. Adam Douglas,” He smiled offering his hand,

“Y/n Y/l/n,” she smiled giving his hand a shake, he smiled and gave her hand a little kiss,

“I have a feeling we’re gonna spent alot of time together once the trail is over,”

“Yeah…. I have that feeling too.” 

[writingsofhubris-a]

Portrait of a Lady

↞ | ← | Master | AO3 | →

Ch 8. We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole Rating: E WC: Tags: Lovecraftian Monster(s), Human/Monster Romance, Oviposition, Tentacle Sex, Cancer Ship: Harding Hooten/Reader Disc: You'd met Harding elsewhere, even though you'd never talked for more than a few minuets. When you'd stopped into his emergency room, when you'd visited Chelsea, you found yourself looking at a man you'd known only in passing heading your care. He'd led you through tumultuous questions, opened up as easily as any of the surgeons could open up a person. Somehow, you'd been drawn to Harding, and he was willing to take you up on your offer.

Harding's hands were pinned to your hips, pulling your hips to his, flush to his body.

“You want to carry my eggs? Feel how full you can get?” A shiver dipped through your body, hearing the way Harding described it. He was offering a junkie a hit, and he had to know it.

“Please, I want to see everything about you, Harding.” Your hands moved to rest over his, pushing yourself closer to his body. Your head leant back against him, turning your head to kiss the bit of skin you could reach. “I want you to take me, show me how they’ll feel.” Harding’s lips took yours, cutting off any more begs that could possibly fall.

Your moan was stolen into his lips, his hands slowly rubbing your hips, relaxing the muscles.

“How could I say no to a toy begging as sweetly as that?” Harding used his tentacles to support your bum as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. The strength he always hid was well in use, keeping you propped against him as his lips leant to yours. Your arms wrapped around Harding’s shoulders as well, humming softly as he carried you from the living room to your bedroom.

He was careful when he laid you down, the touch of a lover understanding how delicate his prize could be. Large hands ran over your hips again, just to take your knees and spread them open. The crotch of your pants pulled taut at his action, holding you open before he leant down and pressed his mouth to yours. Once again, connected in a kiss that stole your breath and moans away.

You had to trust Harding’s lead in this, but it was hard. You could feel a tentacle rubbing between your legs, taking its time to explore from its position under your waistband. Harding’s teeth grazed over your shoulder, but his saliva felt more viscous, warmer. You turned your face to his, and when he kissed you next, Harding licked your lower lip, asking for you to open up to him. The taste of his saliva was different as well, sweet like a nectar from a flower, thick as a syrup.

He pulled away, as to not overwhelm you, letting your breathing catch back up for him. Harding’s hands hadn’t been idle, you had simply been distracted. His precise fingers ran from your belly button, up between your breasts, only to splay over the base of your neck. He was letting this build, as he often liked to, but you could feel each beat of your heart as it thumped against your chest.

“Something’s different,” you whispered, rubbing up against his slacks.

“A benefit to our kind,” Harding started to explain, pulling back from you with one final nip of a kiss to your ear. “A small way that we can ensure procreation even more firmly; temporarily aparting part of our magic to let our partner feel us more fully.”

“An aphrodisiac?”

“The most potent one you’ll ever have.” Harding’s hands once more started to slide your shirt up, finally taking the scratchy garment off your body. “It will ensure your body won’t reject any of these.” You looked down your bare chest at Harding, another wave of lust washing through you. He was so very fine, so very pretty sitting between your legs. You weren’t sure if it was the saliva or if it was the simple fact that Harding could turn you on with just a smirk.

“And what are you going to do about that, Harding?” The invitation in your voice was almost a whine - nearly so. “Going to fill me like I want you to?” Your foot hooked around Harding’s thigh.

“More than you can hold,” he responded, that tone of his voice slipping from entirely human again. He still sounded the same, but his voice gained that physicality to it. You felt more surrounded than if he was laying on you with his whole body. “More than you’ll be able to count.” Harding promised. You could feel his tentacles moving over your legs, around your body.

They first crossed your sternum and over your shoulders to your collarbone, then wrapped under your arms to your neck. You looked up at Harding, to see his eyes directly on our face, waiting to see you look at him. Dark brown eyes, and that faint smile that showed he knew had just what he wanted, that he had you pinned better than a bug.

Another set of tentacles moved to your hips, shifting even your legs up off the bed. Harding pinned your knees as close as they could to your chest, entirely leaving your crotch open for his view. One of his hands moved to your calves, sliding his fingers over your skin slowly. His eyes were watching your reactions, watching your eyes close and relax due to the firm pressure of his fingers. He knew just how to use each digit against the fibers of your muscles, forcing your body to relax. Those hands slid between your legs, pressed to your clit.

His tentacles weren’t idle. One slipped around your waist, then down to your clit, overtaking his hand. Harding’s slick tentacle pressed against your clit, and when it started to rub pleasure into you, you felt Harding’s lips pressed against your core.

His tongue swiped out, and you felt his fingers spread you open, giving him more access to thrust into you, tasting your slick. His moan shook through your body, electrifying every inch of you. You stiffened, but when you tried to move your hands to his head, you found that your wrists were caught by a tentacle. Harding pulled his mouth away with a soft moan, licking his lips.

“Delicious.” The tentacle on your clit slid into you, pushing into your hole. One, two, three worked their way into you, inches sliding in more than you could keep count of. They twisted inside you, rubbing you open for his eggs.

Your hips started to hook into his tentacles, before the shadows stilled around your hips, forcing you to stop, allowing Harding to keep you still and under his control.

“Don’t get too excited,” Harding instructed. Those dark brown eyes looked up at you, and you almost swore you could see galaxies in them. “You’ll need that strength for later.”

“You better make good on that,” was the fast response, weak as it was.

Each tentacle slipped out, one by one. Harding for his own merit took the moments to kiss your stomach, a moment of tenderness as you were certain to earn some new stretch marks. Knowing they would be from Harding made you nearly mad with lust, the promise of a mark forever from him forefront on your mind.

The length that slid into you was harder than his tentacles usually were. His thumbs, holding open your labia, allowed the ovipositor to slide into you, not even slightly bottoming out. Ridged as it was, the bumps on the ovipositor grinded inside you, and you felt Harding’s tentacles tighten around you. His breath was slow, and you felt a tentacle against your clit, letting you relax around him.

“Are you ready, pet?”

“Yes, Harding. Please…” With your plea, Harding pressed the end of the ovipositor against your cervix, a sudden liquid squirting against your muscles and forcing them to relax. Warmth, deep in your core, starting to tingle, and then the ridged phallus was in your womb. It was all he needed for the first smooth egg to slide into you. His ovipositor expanded around the second, slipping into you with a gush of liquid.

"Fuck, that feels amazing." Your head was caught by a tentacle, pillowing your head.

"That's enough thinking." The tip of the tentacle slid from your neck to your mouth, pressing in and stretching your lips around him. Each egg that was placed inside you rubbed you in new ways as they settled. Clench as you might, each egg and goo shifted the previous, stretching you and with sudden shock, making you cum.

"You're stretching so well around me." You could only whimper around him. The tentacle pulled out of your mouth, only to slip ro your nipple and rub. Some goo was secreted, and almost instantly a fire lit on your skin. Warmth, sensitivity, it was one in the same as Harding took your breast, pinching your nipple. Your mouth opened in a moan, only for that tentacle to once again move to your mouth, sliding back down your throat.

You couldn’t moan around him, you couldn’t shift as Harding’s hands moved over your body, his tentacles writhing against your skin. His nails, clawed as he only allowed you to see, dug slightly into your thigh. It felt magnitudes deeper than normal, a symptom of the liquid that had smeared out of your hole.

Harding chuckled, that deep sound echoed through the walls and your body, that presence that he only allowed you to feel. His ovipositor shifted, Harding’s sigh trailed over your body, as physical as his tentacles around you. All you could do was feel and adjust, stretch around each egg that was placed inside you. Too soon, Harding’s hands stopped on your body, stopped moving and the eggs had settled. His ovipositor shifted only once more, just the smallest amount of his shaft held inside you.

One final burst of liquid filled the final empty spots around the eggs, warm, thick liquid clinging to the eggs in you. You almost expected to feel a final wave of lust, just as you had been during every other wave of goo.

Harding's tentacle finally slipped out, and you felt full and warm. Not hot, nor burning as you’d been before, just warm. The goo almost seemed to be keeping the heat inside you, pulling it from around you in the best way.

Harding guided you into his lap, tentacles shifting from holding to supporting, some disappearing back into his container, a couple extending far enough to retrieve a wet rag, used to start cleaning the various liquids from between your legs.

“How do you feel, my dear?” Harding’s lips pressed to your forehead, a quick kiss for just a moment. His hand rubbed your lower back, releasing some of the pressure that had built up from the eggs.

“Full,” you murmured, rubbing your head into his shoulder. Cuddling, being held, that was the single thought that had populated your mind. Harding was the one thing that had populated your thoughts. A yawn, then you continued. “Sated, and full.” Your hand moved to rest on your stomach, a bump already on your stomach more than before. Gently, you rubbed the skin, and felt the pressure of the eggs, just waiting to incubate in you. Harding’s kiss once again fell on your head, and you felt the rag pull from your skin, just to rinse and clean in the sink. Warm fabric rubbed over your body once again, dipping over your curves and folds, swiping up the exertion that stayed on your body.

“Good. Drink this.” He held up the cool cup of water to your lips, allowing you to greedily suck in the delicious taste.

“Did you keep count?”

“I thought that you’d be,” Harding responded, brushing your cheekbone. “Twelve.” Your hand moved to your belly, eyes closing. Twelve babies, just a short span of time that would need to pass before you could hold your children. Children you’d never thought to have, but now only wanted to hold.

You were lost to the feeling of Harding putting you to bed, his hands firm on your body, a safety that you needed so very intimately.

7 missed calls, 34 texts

Txt from: J: Where have u been??

Txt from: J: I’ve been worried !!

Txt from: ⧯⧯: I’m sorry, it’s been a wild week.

To say the least

Txt from: ⧯⧯: I’m okay, now.

Txt from: ⧯⧯: Yeah… Harding distracted me.

Txt from: ⧯⧯: you wouldn’t believe me if i told u

Txt from: ⧯⧯: let’s just say I lost my phone charger and haven’t even noticed.

Txt from: J: when am I going to see what he did?

“Who is it that you’re talking to?” The words, whispered directly into your ear, forced your body to jump for just a moment, startled by how quiet the large man could be. You reached up to his cheek, gently rubbing his skin.

“Jolene,” you replied, honest. Harding’s eyes drifted to your extended stomach, and your hand shifted from his cheek down to his hand, pulling it to lay on top of the bulge. His warm hand rubbed over your stomach, just allowing himself to feel how full you were, just how well you were holding onto the eggs.

“I don’t know if I'll ever be sated looking at you like this.” His hands rubbed your sides, rubbing over your skin. Harding’s face only showed love, only offered care for you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to be empty again.” Your hands moved to rest over his, stilling his movements against your sides.

“Then I'll make sure to do my duty well," he joked. Yet, Harding learnt down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You better."

[the-tickly-faerie]

Hi! So maybe ranboos being a little sassy pants so tubbo goes after his toe beans? Feel free to ignore <3

Toe beans!

a/n holy moly this was from last year oops! I hope this is good! 

Warning Feet tickles

Ranboo was in a very flustering situation. Tubbo’s hand was hovering and wiggling right over his toe beans, a very ticklish spot. Tubbo had a mean grin on his face, Ranboo could feel his face go red. 

“This could have been avoided Ranboo. But noooo you decided to keep bugging me” 

Ranboo was in a very bad lee mood, which motivated the behavior, but Ranboo wasn’t going down without a fight. 

“But it’s so fun bugging you! You jumped so high when I scared you! How could I not Tubbo?” Tubbo’s grin got wider, he decided to ask the unfair question that was Ranboo’s demise.

“Oh Ranboo, I was going to be nice and just tickle you. But now since you decided to sass me, I guess you will just have to ask,” Tubbo teased. When this was said, Ranboo could feel the butterflies in tummy triple in amount. That was a mean move, Tubbo knows how Ranboo could not say tickle for the life of him. Ranboo, not saying anything, shakes his head to give Tubbo a silent no.

“Come on Boo you decided to sass, so you can say tickle. We both know that's what you want. Just say the magic word~” Tubbo gave a quick poke to the adorable toe beans to tease the poor flustered lee. This of course got a squirm and a little gasp.

“Tubboooo,” Ranboo whined, the squirming increased. 

“You know what you have to do to get tickles little lee.” Ranboo put his hands on his face, he knew what he had to do. All he was doing now was just pushing back the inevitable. Frankly he just wants to get tickled. He took a deep breath and decided to finally ask.

“Tubbo could you um tickle me,” it was said so quietly Tubbo could almost barely hear it, he had half a mind to make him ask again but he isn’t that mean. 

“Aww thank you for asking so nicely Ranboo, you asked so well! I’m so proud of you.” And just as promised Tubbo slowly brought his hand down, right above Ranboo’s foot. “I can’t wait to tickle those toe beans Ranboo.” After a second, Tubbo started scribbling over ranboo’s toe beans.

This immediately made Ranboo squeal, it felt like the anticipation made everything more sensitive. Ranboo was laughing so hard, his toe beans was one of his worse spots.

“Tubbohohoho.” 

“Yes giggly bean?” Ranboo didn’t respond, to busy laughing. Tubbo then switched to a soft tracing. Trancing every toe very slowly. Which made Ranboo’s laughter switch to giggling. Tubbo knows Ranboo could only handle rough tickles for a little and soft tickles was better for him. Plus Tubbo loves to hear Ranboo’s giggles. His giggles had little snorts and hiccups mixed in. It was so cute. 

“Tubbohohoh it ticklehehehes” 

“Well it’s supposed too silly!” Tubbo could see that Ranboo was getting close to his max, so he decided to make it a grand finale. He started scribbling all of his toes again, switching from feet to feet. Ranboo’s laugh came out full force and he was wiggling like there was no tomorrow. Ranboo couldn’t formulate sentences and even words, his brain felt too mushy and buzzy. Tubbo decided to bring out his worst weapon, raspberries. Tubbo took a large breath in and blew a giant tickly raspberry on the biggest toe bean. Ranboo’s laugh rose in pitch and he arched his back. Once the raspberry ended he laid on the floor limp giggling. Totally tuckered out. Tubbo smiled and rubbed his friend's feet to get rid of the tickly feeling. After a couple minutes ranboo’s giggles ended but he still laid on the floor. 

“You doing good there Boo?” the boy answered with a thumbs up, he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Tubbo decided to put on a movie so that both could relax.