#ready to pull back at the minute it goes sideways

[blindmagdalena]

Night Terrors

1.6k homelander x reader. established relationship. pure comfort fic. remaster of this old prompt. very mild spoilers for s4 if you squint. mostly just wanted to self-soothe with some comfort/cuddle fic. gif credit.

It's been decades since Homelander last stepped foot in The Bad Room, but when he wakes from a nightmare of it in your shared bed, it's as if he never left.

Most of the nights you spend with Homelander are peaceful. 

Tonight is not most nights.

The scream that wakes you from a dead sleep is guttural, barely human. Homelander is sitting upright, frenzied and wild-eyed, the ocean blue of them obscured by crimson glow. You're not even sure that he sees you through it when he looks at you. He's panting like he just ran a marathon, and the comforter is ripped cleanly in half, the two sides strewn on either side of him. "John," you call softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he jerks away from your hand like you've burned him. "Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, wrapping his arms around himself. Sometimes he is small during these fits, curled in on himself, begging you to make it stop. Not tonight. Tonight he is another self, spitting rage and violence through remembered agony. A cornered animal. "I'll fucking kill you!" "John," you say again, pleading. You know he isn't talking to you. He's speaking to the ghosts of his past. "You're in our bed. You're with me. I would never hurt you. I love you, John." His name is a double-edged sword. It cuts clean through to something at the core of him in a way that “Homelander” doesn’t. Each use of it acts like a shock to his irregulated system.

You keep your hands outstretched, but you don't touch him. You show him that you aren't holding anything. Not a pen, not a notepad, not a needle. You show that you don't mean him any harm. 

God knows he's suffered enough. With the sound of your voice, the red glow of his eyes gradually dims, flickers, and then finally it goes out entirely. He's still panting, hands moving slowly down his arms, his torso, checking himself for injury. Though his body bears no scars of the pain he’s endured, his mind knows exactly where each one of them would be. Bit by bit, you watch him come back to himself. He looks around the room, taking in the evidence of your truth. Framed photos, décor, the life you’ve built together. It isn't a concrete dungeon. It isn’t a lab. It isn’t an incinerator. It's home. "Fuck," he says quietly, hiccupping the word into his palm. He says it again, louder, screwing his glassy eyes shut. The third time he says it, it's nearly a sob. It’s agony to wait, but you don’t touch him before he’s ready. You fist the bedsheets, you don’t stop talking. I’m here. I’m right here. I love you. You’re safe. You’re not sure if it’s minutes or seconds before he reaches for you. All you know is you act immediately. You move swiftly up on your knees, climbing over the ruined blankets to take him into your arms, pulling his head to rest against your chest, bringing his ear close to the beat of your heart. You hush him while you work to unstick the words from your throat, unable to help the tears that well in your eyes.

The fear and misery in him is so palpable, you nearly feel as if it’s your own. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap as he weeps against you. It's taken a long time to reach this point. He used to swallow it back like bile, adamant for the longest time that you not see this side of him, this aspect of himself that he thinks ugly, imperfect, broken. You fought for this. As you hold him through these bone-deep sobs, it shatters you that it's taken him this long for him to find someone who would. "You're safe," you whisper, battling to keep the tears from your voice. "You're home. You're with me. You're safe. I love you so, so much." He rocks back and forth, choking on his sobs. “I could feel it,” he tells you, the words barely escaping the clench of his teeth. “It hurt. Every second of it, and they just–they all just watched.”

You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks and disappearing into the softness of his hair. You kiss the crown of his head again and again, combing your fingers through his hair where it’s damp with sweat and your own tears. “You’re safe now,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. It isn’t enough, but these words and touches are all you have to offer him against the torment of his childhood.

His grip on you tightens. It wouldn’t take much for him to snap you in half.

That scare you? He’d asked you once. How easily I could break you?”

No, you admitted. It makes me appreciate how hard you try not to. It takes time for his breathing to even out. His hold softens, but he doesn't relinquish you. For as terrible as the nightmares are, it's the shame he experiences in the aftermath that often requires the most care. 

You rub firm circles on his back with one hand while cradling the back of his head with the other, trailing butterfly kisses along his temple, his forehead, down to his cheek. Any part of him you can reach, you kiss, murmuring quiet assurances in between, as if to imbue him with each word. Eventually, the rocking stops. He's breathing more steadily now, arms encircled firmly around your waist. He gives a shaking sigh. "Sorry," he whispers, voice strained. That's a word in his vocabulary that rarely comes up, but when it does, it is always drenched in shame. He hates himself for this. "Don't," you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. You sniff back your tears, letting out a breath. "I asked for this. I begged you for this," you emphasize, earnest. You cup his face, angling him to look up at you. "Let me do this for you. Please. You have nothing to be ashamed of." He stares at you with large, watery blue eyes. The whites are red, strained by the force of his grief, his durability tested only by his own power. In his gaze you see damage done to him that may never heal, but your words settle over invisible scars like a soothing balm. It’s that very look of vulnerability that has driven you to this depth of love. You know his violence, his viciousness, but so too do you know the fragile man it protects.

Most of all, the scared boy beneath it all.

His grip on you flexes, his jaw clenched. The nature of your insight into him is both a blessing and a curse to him. He cannot hide from you. You know his shame, and despite how deeply he needs your compassion, your understanding, it’s something he has to bleed for every time. He’s perpetually torn between his desperation to be your perfect hero, and his soul-deep yearning to be safely vulnerable. 

If you have to, you'll spend the rest of your life convincing him that he can have both.

Finally, his shoulders sag. "I love you," he says, quietly defeated by your warmth. "I'll never hurt you. Ever." You recognize the plea in his words. He's terrified that someday it will be too much. You’ll see what everyone else sees, and your love will be tainted–destroyed–by your inevitable fear of him. You hope one day that he’ll understand why that will never happen. Someday the depths of your love will soak in as deep as the misery of his past, and he’ll be able to forgive himself for the human way his god’s heart bleeds. "I know. I know that.” You kiss the top of his head, still rubbing his back, taking your hand away only to swipe the tears from your face. “I love you, too. Every part of you."

Even the parts you hate. Gingerly, he lifts you just enough to lay you back down on the bed. He wastes no time cuddling back in against you, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. The bedding is ruined, but he runs warm enough that you hardly notice the absence of cover while he’s holding you. Your legs tangle with his, bodies slotting together easily. He nuzzles as if he can worm his way closer than skin to skin. If you could, you’d open your ribcage to welcome him inside. He could eat your heart if it kept his beating another day.

"Will you... talk me to sleep?" He asks, threads of shame lingering in the request. The tension has drained away, leaving him vulnerable and exhausted. His blinks are slow, the curve of his lips mournful. "Of course," you whisper, smoothing your hand up and down his back. This isn’t the first time you’ve talked him back to sleep, and you doubt it’ll be the last. Sometimes you tell him the plot of a book as best you can recall, other times it's random anecdotes from your life. Sometimes it's complete nonsense. To him, it doesn't matter what you say. All that matters is that when he does finally drift back into sleep, it's your voice that safeguards him there. 

Gladly, he rests his head back down on your chest, closing his eyes with a rumbling sigh while your nails drag along his scalp. You cradle him there, savoring the warmth of him as it seeps into the marrow of your bones, the weight of him grounding you.

You tell him stories until sleep finds him. Even then, you continue to speak until your voice frays and you can no longer keep your eyes open. You speak and speak and speak hoping that somehow, in some small way, you can help make up for the years he spent with only his own voice for comfort.

[luveline]

would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?

—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k

“Aaron?” 

He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone. 

“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?” 

He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”

“You don’t want me to explain why?” 

“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.” 

You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.” 

“You’re interested?” 

“In working there?” you ask. 

“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.” 

“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.” 

He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since. 

He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse. 

“Are you ready?” he asks them. 

“For what, the round table?” Emily asks. 

“Y/N’s coming into the office.” 

Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy. 

“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.” 

“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?” 

“It’s up there,” Spencer says. 

“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt. 

He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.” 

“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.” 

“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake. 

“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in. 

“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.” 

Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”

“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”

“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time. 

“Exactly.” 

“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant. 

When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.” 

“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing. 

No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride. 

“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.” 

You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.” 

“If she didn’t work so hard–”

“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.” 

“We know,” Emily says. 

“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.” 

You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say. 

He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise. 

“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor. 

He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?” 

Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers. 

He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.

“Sir?” Penelope says back. 

He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange. 

“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.” 

Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk. 

Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely. 

“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?” 

“Strong genetics?” he suggests. 

“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says. 

He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us. 

“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!” 

“I’m almost twenty three.” 

“So young,” Penelope fawns. 

[im-yn-suckers]

ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ? ✧˖° bf!riki x gf!reader ✧˖° tw: kissies, cuddles, mention of stress, reader is said to be short but that could literally js mean shorter than him, and only sorta maybe perhaps a little kinda self indulgent bc i want a riki ^^ a little disclaimer: idk if riki listens to all of these, as they just come off of my playlist !

your desk is covered in pens, pencils, sticky notes and other supplies. ah yes, another paper, but this time you finished in time. previously you were worrying about getting in on time and if you did it right. will the professor think its good? will i get a good grade? i hope i didnt mess up

all of these thoughts crowded your mind for days maybe even weeks. it brought you tears and pride. the final paper you so horridly dreaded now turned in as you leave your desk, not bothering to clean it up. you walk over to your bf, who was busy playing league on the couch, that filled up, almost, the entire room.

you plop down next to him, leaning on his shoulder. his scent intoxicating you, god, how you missed it for the last 3 hours. "you done pretty girl?" he asks, though not looking down, too focused on his game. you only nod. minutes pass and youre still cuddled up to him. soon enough, he turns the tv off and turns toward you, fully sideways. he lets himself fall back onto the couch, allowing you to fall w him.

a giggle leaves his pretty lips, as you fall on top of him. the couch cant fit the both of you so he improvised. you lay your head on his shoulder, almost his clavicle. you lightly peck the skin-exposed by his black hoodie-covered by pretty moles. "youre squishing me!" "shhh this was all you" he sighs in defeat. "lets go to the bed then" you sigh, not wanting to move.

on the bed, you two lay on your backs, close together. something about his calm presence when you two are in bed, ready to fall asleep, is so comforting. maybe it was his scent, as mentioned, its intoxicating, almost dizzying. or maybe his giant figure next to yours, offering a sense of protection. maybe his soft breaths as he lays down, scrolling tiktok, not quite ready to sleep, yet.

"baby, baby!" he perks up, seeing a video "hm?" you respond, on the verge of falling asleep. your eyelids droopy. "lets make a playlist and take turns adding songs!" you giggle as you hear the idea, finding it quite endearing. you nod in agreement. he opens his laptop and pulls up spotify.

tapping the plus, he creates a new playlist. "what should we name it?" he asks, trying to complete the first step. "mmmm idk, something short but cute" he types in your name to tease you. "hey!" "what?? you said short and cute!" he deletes the name, trying to think of a new one.

"wait! ki! yk the song tell my momma by kard?" you have an idea, hoping its a good one. "uhm i know OF it, why?" "how bout we put 'ill do anything to make our love last long'?" you suggest a long but sweet lyric "baby, thats corny" "so is making a playlist tgt" silence. "ugh ig ure right" you giggle and he puts down the lyric.

"ok songs, you add one first" he pushes the laptop your way and you think for a moment you add the first song, every kind of way by h.e.r, he smiles seeing the song. he takes his turn "where is love" by 3house. your turn again, "wa-r-r" by colde. his turn again, "someone like u" by lullaboy "infranumi" by steve lacy, "pink+white" by frank ocean. "seasons" by wave to earth, "3:00 am" by finding hope it goes back and forth adding songs and laughing

once you two finish, he shuts the laptop, reaching over to set it down. he turns to his side to grab you and pull you close to him. his arms wrapping around you. he presses a little kiss to your lips saying goodnight.

[playnextdoor]

Its okay to be vulnerable

summary: anxiety gets in the way of you and abbys love life

cw: mom!abby x mom!r, smut, fingering (r!recieving), crying after sex, anxiety, angsty, abby helps you feel better, slight proofread, idk very self indulgent.

When your baby girl first arrived, Abby was all over you. God forbid you were in a different room. Whether cleaning up the nursery, preparing dinner, or getting ready for bed, she had to be near you. Abby has always been protective, but after the baby was born, something seemed to flip inside her. Her affection and need to be close to you has her like she has a highschool crush again.

Sometimes, she’d slide her hands over you before your little one stirred awake, bodies pressed together under the blanket, on top of her, underwear gone. Kisses litter your face, and your lips, little puffs of air in agreement as you babble incoherent sentences of pleasure. The blonde has the cutest smile on her face, Everything felt messy, loud, and raw, but you didn’t care. Throwing your head back, you’d capture her lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing each other’s gasps as she scissored her fingers inside you. The cold metal of her wedding ring would brush your folds with every movement, adding a chill to the heat coursing through you.

“ ‘m? Gonna come?” she whispered breathlessly, fingers Everything was hot and sweaty, your legs tangled with hers. You nod, not trusting your voice. She hasn't gotten you like this since the baby, and never really has time to properly fuck you because both of you are constantly on your feet caring for your little one.

Her finger rubs against your clit, slow but with enough pressure it has you clenching her hand between your legs.  Abby didn’t let up, though. Instead, she flipped you onto your stomach, raising your hips and pressing your upper body into the bed, your face smushed into the sheets. Your pajama shirt bunched above your breasts, leaving you exposed, taking her time, moving between slow, torturous strokes and sudden, quick pumps of her fingers. Your moans grew louder, your legs kicking back at her, wordlessly begging her to slow down. She doesn't stop but takes the hint as you hear the beeping of your baby monitors going off.

Abby doesn’t mean to let you slip away, but she does, her grip loosening as she reaches over your slumped body to silence the monitor. The small red light flashes insistently, its rhythm cutting through the silence surrounding you both. Focus on steadying your breath, your face buried beneath your arms and tangled in the comforting press of pillows. Abby’s body half-drapes over yours, and you can feel the slight shake in her legs, either from the chill in the room or from the intensity of what she’s done to you over the last 15 minutes.

“Everything okay?” you whisper, voice hushed and tentative, as you glance sideways. Abby squints at the monitor’s light across her flushed face and swollen lips, bruised from kisses. When her eyes meet yours, her expression softens, and she nods, gently setting the monitor back onto the bedside table. Her lips find yours in a kiss, gentle, both of you savoring the shared afterglow. There's no need to hurry, the simple comfort of your caressing touches and kisses, calm one another in the quiet.

“She’s alright?” you ask again, breaking the kiss, your worry showing through. Abby chuckles softly, her heart clenching at how you still put your baby’s needs above your own, even in moments like this.

“Yes, baby,” she murmurs, pulling you close and maneuvering your tired body into a cuddle. The blanket covers your bare lower half; Abby never even took off her clothes, the urgency of you two fucking making it seem irrelevant. Her hand cradles the back of your neck, its familiar weight causing your eyes to close as a sense of safety envelops you.

“We don’t have to rush to the nursery every time it goes off,” she whispers after a pause. You stare at her, breathing finally even. The digital clock behind her reads 3:10 a.m., and you reach up to caress her cheek, feeling her exhaustion show in your own.

“I know, I just…” you begin, but your words catch, and you suck in a shaky breath, seeing the concern deepen in her eyes. “I can’t help but hear her little cries whenever that thing goes off.”

Abby’s lips form a pout as she hears the emotion swelling in your voice. She wraps her arms tighter around you, holding you close, sensing the depth of your love to your baby.

“I know,” she murmurs into your hair, rubbing your back with slow strokes. Her embrace grounding you as you nuzzle deeper into her chest. “I’m here, and you’re here. She’s safe. It’s okay to be vulnerable..”

You cling to her at these words, feeling her lips press a tender kiss against your hairline. Guilt twists inside you as you stifle your tears. Each time Abby tries to steer you away from your house responsibilities or the baby, your mind seems to wander. This time, the worry feels heavier as it all comes crashing down at you.  Abby then remembers the depth of this, understanding that maybe it’s the intensity of your orgasm, an overflow of emotions the past few days. It's not common for you to cry after sex, but it’s not the first time, either.

“Love you,” you mumble into her chest, eyes closing as her lips leave another gentle kiss on your head.

“I love you too” Abby whispers after the kiss, settling you into the gentle quiet of the night as you bask in her overwhelming love.

a/n: not having the best of days so here we go. also happy 1 year anniversary and thanks for over 200 followers :)

[moonstruckme]

Would you pls write a tattoo artist Sirius x fem reader where it’s her first time getting a tattoo and she’s really nervous but he’s really hot idk sorry totally fine if not !!💗

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: mention of needle

modern au

tattoo artist!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

A bell rings as you enter the shop, and you cringe internally. It seems as though now you’re committed to being here. 

“Hi,” a blonde woman behind a desk greets you with a polite smile. “Do you have an appointment?” 

“Oh.” You hesitate, your footsteps stalling like you might back right out the door. “Um, no.” 

“That’s alright.” She waves you forward. “We have space for walk-ins today. I’ve got an appointment coming in a few, but go ahead and fill this out,” she slides a sheet of paper in front of you, “and Sirius will be out for you in a minute.” 

You take the pen she offers you with a terse smile, and even your name is hardly legible with the trembling in your fingers. Sirius, you think as you tick boxes while hardly looking at them. That’s a boy’s name. Isn’t it? You’re not sure how you feel about a boy doing your tattoo. You’d always pictured a cool, tatted-up girl with a throaty voice and a calming demeanor to set your nerves at ease. You’re tempted to ask this woman if you can just book an appointment with her for later, but when you look up she’s slipped behind the curtain to the back room. 

A few moments later, a different head pops out instead. 

“Hello,” this new man says, grinning whilst your stomach bottoms out. Fair skin, dark hair tied loosely behind his head, and tattoos from his neck going down as far as you can see before they disappear under the waist of his pants. His grin is sharp and welcoming at once, spreading over his fine features like it’s been well practiced. 

“Hi,” you manage. 

“You about done with that?” 

It takes him dropping his gaze to the paper under your hand before you realize what he’s talking about. 

“Oh.” You give a weak laugh, pushing it toward him. “Yeah.” 

“Beautiful.” He picks it up, looking it over briefly. “Ready to head back?”

You can feel your heartbeat in your mouth. “Mhm.” 

He holds the curtain open for you. You turn yourself a bit sideways to avoid brushing either him or the curtain as you go through, and he makes an amused face. 

“I’m Sirius,” he says, leading you towards the chairs in the back of the room. There’s music playing from a speaker in the corner, something quick and bass-heavy that’s probably meant to pump up more seasoned customers but makes your skin feel twitchy. Sirius gives you an expectant look. You blink in response. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry.” You tell him your name. The syllables feel new and awkward on your tongue. 

Sirius tosses you another winsome smile. “No worries,” he reassures you, and you wonder if he gets this reaction a lot. If everyone feels this way around him, like having his full attention directed at you is a little intoxicating and a lot overwhelming. “Is this your first tattoo?” 

“Yeah.” You sit in the chair he gestures to. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckles, the sound sharp and bright. “You’re a tad jumpy, love.” You feel heat rush to your face, but then Sirius gives your calf a little pat and it all goes there instead. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You usually have problems with needles?” 

“Not really.” You squirm a little, making sure your skirt isn’t riding up your thighs. “I just don’t have any idea how badly it’ll hurt.” 

“Oh, it’s not too bad usually. Do you have an idea of what you want?” 

“Um, yeah.” You get out your phone, showing him the picture you’d found. “Could you maybe do this, like, by my hip?” 

Sirius leans closer to see. “As little as that one?” You nod, and he grins. “Yeah, that’ll be easy! I can do that in five minutes, gorgeous, don’t you worry.” 

“Really?” you ask, hope inflating in your chest. 

“Yeah, let me just…” He turns around to a small desk, drawing a careful sketch before pulling on a pair of disposable gloves. “Alright, where do you want it?”

You pull down the waistband of your skirt, pointing to the bit of skin where your hip turns into your stomach. You hold your breath as he presses the paper to your skin. When he peels it back up, the design stays. 

“Like that?” 

Your reply comes out on an exhale, soft and a bit dizzy. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect.” 

“Brilliant.” Sirius looks down at his work, then back up at you. You can’t decide which makes your stomach hurt worse. “Then I think we’re ready to get started. You alright?” 

You ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips and force yourself to answer before you can think too hard. “Yeah.” 

Sirius looks like he can tell you’re faking it, but he blazes forward anyway, giving you a reassuring smile. “Great, just lie back for me. Like that, yeah. Cool if I roll the top of your skirt down so it doesn’t get in our way?”

You nod. He’s careful and professional as he takes the waistband of your skirt, folding it over itself until it sits beneath your hips, but still a gloved knuckle brushes up against the skin of your lower abdomen. Your heart hiccups.

“Okay, love, here’s what we’re going to do.” You look up to find Sirius’ eyes already waiting for yours. They’re lighter than you’d thought from a distance, a grayish blue like the ocean during a storm. His one hand is resting on the temporary tattoo, and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat bumping through your skin. You certainly can. “I’m going to touch the machine to you for just a second so you know how it feels, and then I’ll take it off. Sound good?” 

You nod again, bracing yourself. “Okay.” 

“Alright.” 

The machine buzzes to life, and it’s an effort not to flinch. You press your lips together in case you make a sound. Sirius’ brow pinches concentratedly as he touches the needle to the stencil he’s made on your skin. It’s over before you can process it. 

“How was that?” he asks you.

You look up at him in surprise. “Fine,” you say honestly. It stung, but not nearly as bad as you’d expected, and only for as long as he was touching the needle to you. 

“Beautiful.” Sirius seems as relieved as you are, his grin flashing canines. “In that case, you’re golden. Just sit pretty for me, yeah?”

You feel like he has to be intentionally flustering you now, but you don’t have time to dwell upon it before he sets back to work. The sting really is negligible, especially with Sirius’ fingers pressing into your skin to steady his touch and his elbow resting lightly against your thigh. You feel hot in all sorts of places. 

Those gray-blue eyes flicker up to check on you when he pauses every now and then. “You’re amazing,” he praises. “Doing so well, love.” 

It doesn’t help.

[luxaofhesperides]

for the Ghost Lights prompt thingy(if you’re still doing it)…

Fish?

Danny doesn't mean to witness a fight, but it's taken up the entire road and he's been stuck hiding in an alley for the past ten minutes, watching the Signal take out gang members.

More keep coming to fight, and Danny can tell that the Signal is flagging, his energy waning as he's forced to defend himself against the countless gangsters rushing him. Part of him wants to jump in and help, but being kidnapped and nearly trafficked after the wrong person caught sight of him using his powers has Danny hesitating, fearful of being caught again.

The Signal's a hero, he tells himself, If anyone can handle this, it's him.

And, to be fair, the Signal is handling it pretty well. He takes people down quickly with hard hits and pressure point strikes, his shadow rearing up behind him to crash down on people. But it's still one versus too many, and Danny watches, barely breathing, as the Signal is pushed back to the edge of the road. There's only a small iron rail separating him from the ocean and Danny tenses, ready to spring into action despite his apprehension if things go sideways.

Sure enough, a few lucky hits disorient the Signal, leave him off balance, and all it takes is one strong push to have him toppling over the railing and into the dark waters below.

The gangsters wait to see if the vigilante will resurface. No sign of his signature yellow appears from beneath the waves. They cheer and walk off, congratulating each other, groaning about bruises and broken bones. Danny doesn't bother paying any attention to them as he goes invisible and sprints for the railing, jumping over it to dive in.

Using his powers in Gotham is always dangerous, and going full ghost even more so. He hasn't transformed since he first arrived, too focused on keeping his head down and getting out of the city alive once he graduates from university.

But saving a hero is a good reason to throw away all his caution and common sense. Danny pulls on his power, goes ghost just as the waves swallow him whole, and he flies down through the water in search of the Signal.

The water is dark and brackish, polluted and full of filth. He's sure if he looks closer to the bottom, he'd only find bodies from people who's names only appear in cold cases. He's all too aware of the time ticking away as he searching, desperate to catch a glimpse of the yellow armor the Signal is so known for. He almost misses it when he does spot it, just a small flash closer to the edge of the city than he expected. Danny aims for it, cutting through the waters with ease.

The Signal is struggling weakly as he tries to swim up to the surface. His armor is weighing him down and Danny can see small wisps of blood rising into the water around him.

Danny doesn't hesitate. He can't afford to, not with the Signal's life on the line.

He grabs the Signal's arms and flies them up. He stops when their heads are above the water to give the Signal a moment to breathe, then he warps his arms around the Signal's waist and flies them out of the water.

"Do you have someplace safe to go to?" Danny asks, taking them to the top of an apartment building a few streets over.

The Signal collapses once Danny lets go of him, coughing up water. Danny hovers nearby, offering what little comfort he could by rubbing small circles onto the vigilante's back.

"Is there someone I can call? Someone who can help you?"

The Signal shakes his head. He curls into himself, taking deep breaths. A hand goes to his wrist and grips it for a moment, then he slumps over, rolling onto his back. He definitely shouldn't be alone right now, so Danny sits next him, staying in ghost form just in case he has to fly them away, and wonders if he should try shouting for Batman. That would get his attention right? A glowing ghost boy yelling for him above the streets of Gotham?

Of course, he's rather not do that, but this isn't about him. This is about getting the Signal the help he needs to recover from almost drowning.

Batman would be lenient on him once he hears that Danny fished the Signal out of the ocean, right?

"Thanks," the Signal rasps, turning his head to face Danny. Water still trails down his face, no doubt trapped under his helmet.

"No problem," Danny replies. "You should probably take that off, you know. I'll look away, so don't worry."

He turns and closes his eyes for good measure, and is glad to hear Signal mutter a weak thanks. It's followed by a deep sigh and the sound of something being dropped onto the roof of the apartment. They stay in silence for many long minutes and Danny keeps his eyes closed, the back of his neck itching. The Signal must be looking at him, and the thought makes Danny want to hide away.

So much for hiding his powers.

"Seriously, thank you," the Signal says again. His voice is much steadier now, stronger.

"It's really no problem. I wasn't about to just leave you to drown when I could do something about it."

Behind him, Danny hears the Signal moving and tenses, worried about what happens next.

"You can look now."

Slowly, Danny turns and opens his eyes. The Signal is sitting up now, helmet back on, looking much better. "I'll need to finish dealing with that gang later, but for right now, I'm going to get someplace safe to crash. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean, you were in the water too. You should probably take a shower as soon as possible," the Signal adds. "Who knows what's in the water we swam in?"

Danny grimaces, imagining all the pollution and bodies that contaminate the bay. "Good point. You'll be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, man, don't worry about me. I'll be right as rain in no time."

He takes a step back, glancing around to make sure no other Bats are going to pop out of nowhere to get him. "Cool. I'll just go now so you can do... whatever it is you need to do now. Bye!"

Danny flies away before the Signal can say anything else, going invisible to avoid any curious eyes looking up from the streets. He circles around the block just to make sure none of the gang members are still lingering outside, then heads to his and Jazz's apartment as soon as he determines that the coast is clear. He goes straight to his bedroom, goes back to being a normal human, and collapses face first into his bed. The stress of the day hits him all at once and Danny can only hope that the Signal forgets about him and they can go on without their paths ever crossing again. The last thing he needs is attention from a vigilante; getting mixed up in the hero business will only endanger Jazz, and Danny will do anything to make sure she has a peaceful, normal college experience in Gotham.

Yeah, surely there are better things that will keep the Signal preoccupied. Danny will be fine.

(A week later, Danny curses his past self for jinxing him when he turns down an alley to take a shortcut from the library home and finds the Signal leaning against a wall.

"Hey," the vigilante greets, "Mind if we chat for a sec? I still need to thank you for saving me."

He'd really rather not, but the Signal would probably just come back if Danny ran away. He sighs and agrees, following after the Signal as he leads them somewhere quieter.

He's expecting a light interrogation on his powers, what he's doing in Gotham, his reasons for saving the Signal. What he gets instead is a few worried questions about his safety and the promise of a lunch date.

...Maybe he can hold off cursing his past self. When else is he going to get a date with a hero?)

[atinysunbaby]

⌛Ateez Matz unit reaction to skinship⌛

- Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong

Warnings : Suggestive, don't read if uncomfortable.

💖Park Seonghwa💖

Since the first day of your relationship, Seonghwa has always been the one to initiate skinship and he's even the one who asked you out. It makes him feel a bit insecure sometimes, because endless worries go through his mind. He wishes you would be clingy and show your love in a way that makes him feel special. He's scared that you don't love him as much as you let it appear and that it's never going to change.

You're shocked to find him outside your apartment during one of his work days, but the first thing he mentions while entering is that he took a day off to come see you. You lead the way inside, getting him a drink and laying out a few of his favorite snacks on the coffee table for him to enjoy.

He starts the conversation and you can see his eyes brimming with tears, voice unsteady. The moment the words come out of his mouth, he bursts out crying. He wanted to confront you and admit that he wants more physical affection from you, but he must be too overwhelmed. It surprises the both of you, but Seonghwa is confused more than anything.

"I don't know why I'm crying." You can't resist his adorable scrunched up face, eyes shining with salty waterfalls and pouty lips. Your instincts take over and you hurry to straddle his laps, tightening your arms around his neck and kissing away his tears before pecking the rest of his face and he starts humming contentedly.

"You must have been so worried. You didn't even know how much it affected you. My poor baby." Seonghwa beams with delight, eyes closing in satisfaction as you continue your ravage on his skin. You hear a few whimpers while leaving hickeys all over his jaw, neck and collarbone. The more you touch him, the redder he gets.

When you finally pull away, admiring your artwork, you fail to notice the flustered expression on your boyfriend's face, but you can't help giggling as you look up. His eyes are dazed and he looks absolutely gone in his own world, it seems almost too complicated for him to gain back his senses.

"Are you with me baby?" He nods dumbly, watching you with adoration, but not being able to utter a word. From then on, you always take the time to show him how much he means to you and he certainly loves every second of it.

💙Kim Hongjoong💙

Hongjoong doesn't like skinship. No, actually he does, but only when it's you. He won't admit it though, especially not in front of other people. At first you figured he would prefer if you didn't try anything, but still make sure to get a few hugs and kisses here and there, because you personally like it.

When you don't give him any type of physical affection, it almost pains him. Until one day he can't take it and ends up accidentally admitting that he craves for your touch. "Come sit here."

Getting ready to watch a movie with him and the rest of ateez, he pat his thighs for you to sit on and it doesn't even register in his mind that he is 'supposed' to hate it. You hesitate for a minute, wondering if he really means it or if he made a joke, but you see the realization on his face and notice that he doesn't back down from his request.

"You comfortable?" You nod and turn sideways to analyse his expression. He wears a satisfied smirk and the hands squeezing your waist lets you know that he enjoys it as much as you do.

Some of the boys decide to start teasing him, swearing that they knew he was whore for your touch and Hongjoong retaliates, clearly bothered by their words. It goes on for a while and you get tired of them being little shits. "Hongjoong?"

His attention is on you almost at the speed of light and it only acts as gasoline on the fire, snickers filling the room followed by Seonghwa scolding his kids and Hongjoong flipping them off angrily.

You feel him shift underneath you and see how bothered he looks, which upsets you too. Hoping to make his mood better, with your hands on both sides of his jaw, you lift his head up and initiate a rather intense kiss.

The second your lips touch, it's dead silent and you can imagine the shock on their faces, the thought riling you up even more. You wanted them to be speechless and it worked, but your main priority is and always will be your boyfriend, who is getting more agitated as time passes.

He's getting bolder, forgetting about the small public you have and you hate to put a stop to his new found hunger, but it's better to continue somewhere else. Pulling away, a trail of saliva connects from your tongues and you press your lips one last time against his to break it.

He's breathing heavily and you both chuckle lightly before turning to face the seven dumbfounded men. There's a certain tension in the air and you feel proud to be the one who made it happen. "You coming Hongjoong? I want you inside of me."

Your boyfriend confidently stands up to grab your hand, leading the way to his room and ignoring the wide eyes and gapping mouths of his bandmates.

Ateez masterlist

[shadow4-1]

Got You! - Ghost x Reader Oneshot (NSFW)

please mind the tags on this one! this one is especially dark! tags: heavy noncon, slight dubcon, some torture, predator/prey dynamics

Summary: Being on the frontline as a Kortac hacker is just another job for you. But after a mission goes sideways, you find yourself in the clutches of a broken yet monstrous man they call Ghost.

You typed quickly and quietly on your tablet. A thick cord wormed its way from a port in its back all the way into a wall of servo units. The wall blinked and hummed, some lights flickering as you did your job and did it well.

"I can't believe they're paying so much for such little data." You murmured to yourself, eyeing the storage left on your removable drives. It was less than a couple gigabytes of intel. Off in the distance, you heard a few pops of gunfire, your fellow Kortac members keeping the area secure for you in particular.

"What a weird place to put this shit." You murmured again, glancing around at the room.

You couldn't remember where, in what country you were exactly. This was your third intel op for the week, it was all beginning to blend together. First time had been Russia, and then Spain, and then...Morroco? You were in Morroco, right? Based on the soft rug beneath your knees, the cotton drapes, and the casual color scheme, you supposed so.

All that mattered was getting the hell out of dodge. You half glanced back down at your tablet, another five minutes to completion. Most of the lights on the racks of servers had turned red, a sure sign you were doing your job correctly. Although, the more you looked around the stranger it all felt. Yes, you were a talented hacker. You'd worked hard to get where you were, but your instincts had never let you down either. Something about a server room being in the living room of a Moroccan household didn't seem right.

You heard some more insistent pops of gunfire. They weren't as far away as before. Your heart began to thump with the beginnings of anxiety. Leo, your main escort, was sure to be just outside of the cinderblock house. A part of you wanted to run to him, but you had to stop yourself. Three minutes, and you'd be able to get the hell out of there.

The pops of gunfire quickly became sprays. You heard something shatter across the street. Fuck.

"Leo!" You hissed out, grabbing your tablet, readying to rip the cord out of the back. "I almost got it!"

Thirty seconds. Come on. Come on!

Leo burst through the door, slamming it behind him. He huffed with adrenaline, forcing the door to lock and slamming a nearby bookcase against it. The gunfire was outside. You heard some yelling and returning fire. A man cried out in pain, you guessed one of yours. The glass of the living room window exploded.

Luckily for you, the servo units blocked your body from the main impact. Unluckily for your tablet, it was knocked from your grip. It skidded across the floor, screen shattered with a hole in the center.

A sniper.

You tried to reach out for your trusty tablet, but Leo had other ideas. With one of his large, tan arms, he hooked it around your center and yanked you upwards. Before you could even question him, he began to pull you towards the direction of the back of the house. Sprigs of his usually neat, slicked back hair fell across his forehead. He looked worried, an expression you were not used to seeing on the normally jubilant man.

"Leo, wha-"

You were cut off by the sound of the front door and bookcase splintering inwards. Daylight streamed into the dark house, making it harder to see. Leo practically picked you up and carried you as he ran. There was a long hallway with multiple doors that he locked behind you until finally, your path ended in a bedroom. The layout of this house was strange, but you hoped that it would help throw off your pursuers for just long enough that you could escape. It seemed Leo was thinking the same thing.

"Come on, girlie! The window, quick!" He huffed out through his thick, Australian accent. You happily obeyed, trying desperately to lift up the sill of the nearest window.

"It won't move!" You cried, throwing your entire shoulder against the small ledge. You yelped out in pain, multiple nails had pricked your palm. "It's nailed shut!"

There was a sickening crash from somewhere on the other side of the door. Leo stood tall, his rifle in hand, ready to blast a hole through whoever was planning on coming through. He looked over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in determination. Somehow, his energy was what you needed to keep from falling into a pure panic.

"Try the other one, girl! Kick it out 'f ya 'ave to!" He commanded, his low voice like a spell.

You climbed up onto the bed in the corner of the room. Sure enough, there was a skylight within reaching distance. You threw your body up the wall, the metal bed frame squeaking and shaking beneath you. You clawed and scratched, your fingertips barely making it to the ledge.

"I can't reach!" You cried. "M' too short!"

Leo made an aggravated noise in his throat, but it wasn't directed towards you. Out in the hall, there was the unmistakable sound of a door being kicked open. You glanced down at Leo, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

So this was it, huh?

Fucking weeks, months, of being stationed with this random man, and this was how both of you were to die. Cornered and helpless in a foreign country. A part of you supposed that maybe it was meant to be. Leo had always been kind of sweet to you in comparison to the rest of the men you worked with. Hopefully, your shared end would be quick.

Leo's eyes quickly swapped between you, the skylight, and the door. He blinked and then jumped up onto the bed with one stride. You squeaked as he pushed you to the wall, lifted the butt of his rifle, and knocked the glass out with a singular, smooth motion.

"Leo wai-"

He didn't wait. He dropped his rifle on the bed, hooked his hands underneath your thighs, and lifted you easily. Despite his help, you only managed to be tall enough to get your arms through the windowsill, but it was enough.

The door to the bedroom was thrown open with so much force that it caused the plaster of the wall to crack. Leo turned his back to the wall, letting your legs kick off his shoulders.

"It was a pleasure!" He called up to you, voice cracking.

"LEO!" You cried.

A folley of shots flashed from a muzzle in the doorway. Leo let out a garbled growl, reaching for his knife in its holster. He surged forward with his weapon, blood spots leaking into the back of his canvas vest. Leo was dying, and yet he kept fighting.

Fighting for you.

You refused to let his sacrifice be in vain. You turned your attention back to the roof beneath your fingers. The skylight was part of the floor of the flat roof of the house. If you managed to get your body through the sill, you could potentially be able to run from rooftop to rooftop to safety.

You used what little leverage you had in your arms and legs to push yourself up. It hurt, the glass dug into your fatigues and was no doubt embedding itself into your skin, but you hardly felt it.

Leo called out your name in a gritted scream.

You had to keep going.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You kept squirming and clawing your way up, pulling your right knee through the window. That was the final amount of leverage you needed. With a hard kick, you threw yourself a couple feet away from the skylight. You sucked in a well needed breath and turned over to fall on your knees.

You'd made it.

All you had to do was stand up and make a running jump to the next banister. You presumed it couldn't have been more than five feet away. Totally doable, even for your smaller stature. You got your right foot underneath you, using your hands to push up from the floor.

Something wrapped around your right ankle, squeezing so impossibly tight you felt the joints squeak. You cried out in pain, trying to right yourself, but falling onto your left side. You looked down at your legs to see what had ahold of you.

Fear froze you in place.

Through the darkened hole of the skylight, surrounded by broken glass, was the dark figure of a man's head. He was covered in all black, save for the bleached white skull he stared at you through. His eyes were so dark and smothered in kohl that only the whites of his eyes were truly visible.

He looked alien.

And he had a terrifyingly casual hold of your ankle with only one hand.

"Got you..." He hummed, his voice deep and dark and dangerous.

The panic finally kicked in, in full force. You screamed and threw your entire body weight away from the strange monster of a man. It seemed he anticipated your move because he tugged back at the same time you tried to surge forward. You gained absolutely no ground.

Tears began to blind your vision and you clawed and kicked with your free foot. You miscalculated. The extra foot was his next target. With his other hand, he snatched your free ankle into his grip.

You fell to the ground, kicking and screaming. Your leg muscles burned, your heart felt like it was about to explode with panic. You tried so desperately to use what was last of your strength to wiggle free, but it was no use.

With one very hard yank, he pulled you backward. In what felt like slow motion you watched as you were torn away from the sunny afternoon, the terracotta bricks and laundry clotheslines of freedom. You fell down and down and down into the darkness of the bedroom prison that was sure to be your tomb. Your nails caught on the texture of the wall as you belly flopped onto the bed below.

All of the air was forced out of your lungs. The fall had only been a few feet, but the impact of hitting your ribcage on the metal bedsprings of the mattress was enough to wind you. You sputtered and coughed, subconsciously curling up on yourself. The blankets tangled into the soles of your boots as you tried to put distance between yourself and your attacker.

A beat passed, and you gasped out, finally getting a lung full of air. You panted hard, putting your arms over your face, expecting a flurry of blows or a knife in your ribs.

"Who do you work for?" The man asked as he slowly stepped off the bed with heavy, measured footsteps.

Hysterically, you sobbed, refusing to look at his masked face. Despite your fear, you felt him come around the side of the bed to lean over your face. In a complete panic move, you kicked yourself backward, only serving to push yourself deeper into the corner of the bed against the wall.

It seemed the masked man's patience was dwindling. He roughly grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you with enough force to slam the back of your head against the wall. The pain, luckily, did clear your head enough to actually answer the question he asked.

"K-KORTAC!" You stammered out. "I-I work for K-Kortac! C-cyber tech o-operator!"

The man looked down at you with an odd sort of interest. He looked down at your legs, seemingly off in thought. The light that filtered down from the broken window cast him half in shadow and half in light. Behind him, on the floor, lay a body in a growing pool of blood.

"Leo..." You hiccuped out in recognition, feeling an intense pull of hysteria.

The man didn't even glance back at your fallen comrade. Instead, slowly, his eyes panned up your body until his gaze landed right on the Kortac chest insigna of your kit. Tears plinked down your lashes and into the canvas material.

The mystery man clicked a button on a comm unit tacked to the front of his vest. A man on the other end yelled out a callsign through static.

"Ghost! Ghost! How copy?" The voice had an accent you couldn't make out in your addled state.

"Copy, Soap." The masked man (Ghost, you presumed) spoke back. "Get to exfil now. Don't wait for me."

"But Ghost-"

"I said don't wait for me, sergeant." Ghost nearly yelled in annoyance. "Exfil in 40, out."

He stopped pressing the button on his comm unit and looked down at you once more. His expression was unreadable. You tried to make yourself seem as small as possible before him.

Ghost slowly glanced over his shoulder with only his eyes. He seemed to give Leo's dead body a short once over before he focused his attention on you again.

"You shag 'im?" He asked.

"Wh-...what?"

"You shag 'im?" He asked again, this time using your name to make the question somehow even more personal.

You looked up at him in a mix of horror and revulsion. What kind of question was that? This man had pursued you like an animal, murdered one of the few men you respected in cold blood, and now wanted to know if you'd been fucking that man while his dead body was still warm?

"F-fuck you." You choked out. Despite feeling drained off all your physical strength, you still had some mental fortitude left.

Ghost let out a soft huff. Whether or not it was a noise of amusement or annoyance, you couldn't tell.

You screeched as he grabbed the front of your kit with one hand. He lifted you out of the corner and slammed you back down in the center of the bed. The metal base squeaked and groaned but held up beneath the impact of your body again. You yelped out as he took his other hand and pulled out a wicked looking knife from his belt. The edges glinted with red, drying blood.

You tried to bat away his hand but he was significantly stronger than you. Even with all your might, he didn't budge. Running on pure fear and self-preservation, you dipped your head down towards his wrist. You clamped your teeth down hard against his gloves. He brought the knife up to your kit but stopped.

He made that noise again. And this time, it seemed to border on amusement.

The world turned black for a second.

When you came to, you could taste copper in your mouth. It ran hot down your nose and out the corners of your lips like drool. You groaned out pitifully, your body giving up any and all fight.

The bastard had knocked your lights out.

Despite all of your senses swimming in pain, you could feel your body physically lightening up in weight. With a bloody gurgle, you glanced down. Your kit and utility belt had been cut away, leaving you in just your fatigues.

"There we go. Good girl." He grumbled, putting his knife away. Something about the tenderness of his voice did not match up with his actions.

You whined out a cry, and he let you. He made no move to deck you again. Instead, unzipped your pants, hooked his fingers into the waistband, and yanked down.

You tried to pull your legs up and away but barely managed to twitch them. Your pants grew tangled around your still boot clad ankles. Ghost took absolutely no time in ripping it all off your body, making you sob as he twisted your already sore ankles.

"Stop..." You hiccuped weakly. "Please."

Roughly, he pushed the hem of your longsleeve up and over your breasts. He jerked it up over your shoulders so hard the fabric snapped and ripped. He threw the ruined garment to the side, seemingly too enraptured by the sight of your near naked body.

Weakly, you put a hand up to his chest as he put his knee up on the bed. There was no strength behind your push, and it seemed to amuse him. He let out a cruel chuckle and pinned your hand over your head as he positioned his entire body between your thighs.

Tears spilled so freely down your cheeks and neck that they soaked the bedsheets beneath your head. This was wrong. He had to know this was wrong. He couldn't do this. Could he?

"Please...no..." You whispered.

He didn't say anything, just breathed in slowly and steadily, eyes roaming over your entire body. He didn't move to touch you, or rip off your panties, or do anything else as monstrous as he'd done before. He just stared at you with an odd sort of fondness.

With his gloved hand he cupped at your face. You whimpered and cowered in his touch, but it was sweet, almost lover like. He wiped as much tears and blood from your face as he could, even taking the corner of a blanket to dab the excess body fluids away.

You were so confused and scared. What the hell was wrong with this guy? If he wasn't going to kill or rape you what did he want?

The hysteria finally set in.

How fucking funny was this? You couldn't find a decent man for years. Leo was the only one to come close, and even then, he was dead. And the two of you had barely been considered acquaintances. This big, fucking hulk of a monster knocked you out, ripped off your clothes, and now wanted to be tender with you all of a sudden?

You giggled once. Then that giggle turned into a chuckle. Soon enough, you were laughing softly against the hand cupping your face.

"I...what do you want?" You managed out between hysterical pants.

He didn't answer, just leaned his body down low over you. The bed protested hard beneath you both but stayed together. Slowly, he began to put his entire weight down on you.

At first, you wheezed, your beaten body unable to handle the load on top of it. Eventually, after enough time, you began to melt beneath him. Despite the discomfort of everything, his body felt warm and solid... and almost safe in a fucked up way you couldn't explain.

Ghost slid his other hand between you, cracking your legs apart. His still clothed core pressed up against yours. You knew that the too hard lump straining against the fabric was definitely not a gun.

"Why?" You asked meekly. "Why are you doing this?"

The man buried his mask clad face into the crook of your neck. He inhaled sharply before slowly breathing out.

"Mine." He admitted, giving your body an experimental thrust.

He groaned low in his throat. Again and again he thrust hard against your center, his cock grinding into your panty clad entrance.

What did he mean he "mine"? He was trying to fuck your forcefully pliant body. This man was a fucking lunatic. What in the godforsaken world di-

The head of his cock brushed up against the mound of your cunt. Despite the layers of clothes between them the head found its way just deep enough between your lips that he brushed up against your clit. Tears pricked in your eyes. Again and again and again, he pleasured you with each cant of his hips. You cried at the feeling. He wiped the tears away sweetly.

Why didn't he just rape you hard? Why did he have to drag this out, make it sweet? If he wanted your body so bad why didn't he just take it? He obviously had no qualms about using force.

"Thas' it, love." He murmured softly. "Just like that."

Was this some kind of sick fantasy? Did he truly believe you were into this? Or was he just pretending you were to fulfill some kind of fucked up need for human closeness?

He kept rutting against you, mumbling quietly against your neck. Most of it was filthy name calling, the rest was too damn sweet for the act he was committing.

"Fuckin' pretty thing you are. Not getting away from me." He muttered, seemingly half out of his mind. "Never getting away from me. Ever again."

You were so confused. Since when had you ever met this man before? You were certain you would've remembered him and all of his monstrous qualities. You tried hard to squirm away from his touch, but he kept you right where he wanted you to be.

"Never again, love. Not letting you slip through m' fingertips again." With his free hand, he pulled the front of your sports bra down. One of your breasts popped free of its confines and into his view.

"No please..." You begged.

"Should've thought of that before you ran off." He growled.

Words relaying your confusion immediately died in your throat. Ghost tugged the bottom portion of his mask up and then proceeded to pull your nipple into his mouth. He bit you hard, making you scream before letting up. He lapped at the aching bud, forcing it to harden into a throbbing peak. As if just to spite you, he traced your areola with his tongue, making your entire body shake with whiplash from the pleasure.

"Stop please!" You begged. "You're hurting me."

Ghost made that huffing noise again, his breath cooling the saliva against your nipple. He pulled your other breast out and pressed the two together. He swiped the flat of his tongue over both buds. You squeaked and tossed your head back.

"Thought you could hide behind your lil' computer, love?" He growled out, his drool leaking between your tits. "Thought I'd never find you?"

"Wha-?"

"Thought you could just drop off the face of th' Earth n' I'd never find you again?" He nearly yelled. "Should've known a slag like you was just in it for a paycheck."

"I don't...what?" You tried. "What do you mean?"

Ghost sat up to glower over your face. His jaw was set hard. You could see the veins in his neck since he'd pulled his mask up to his nose. You blinked tears out of your eyes. What you thought was the shadow of his jugular turned out to be the corner of a neck tattoo. One you immediately recognized.

"S-Simon?"

Despite his obviously bad mood he still managed to crack a smile. It was genuine and yet still so full of malice. His grin was still as beautiful as the night you'd met him. And the night you'd chosen to run away.

"I was scared!" You cried out in admittance.

"You were scared?" He chuckled. "When every night you were in my bed n' cummin' on me?"

It had been years since you'd seen him. You'd been mere weeks out of university, adrift and broke, but with a shiny new certificate in computer science. Just to get a free meal here and there, you'd found yourself going out on dates with random men. You'd never had much luck with men, and so it was easy to forget their many faces.

But Simon's you could never forget.

He'd been quiet, almost too quiet. He'd exclusively asked you questions about yourself in a much meeker voice. Come to think of it, he'd sounded like a different person the whole time. Did he do it on purpose so as not to intimidate you? Or was it a side effect of the pills he was taking while he'd been on medical leave?

He'd made it clear the two of you weren't going to be long term. And you were okay with that. It wasn't until you got a job at a programming firm that he started getting leery. When you made it clear your fling of a relationship wasn't going to work he'd retreated. And then he came back...lurking in the shadows.

"I-you were stalking me!"

"You still have no idea what I've done for you."

For a moment the two of you looked at each other. The pure terror of a moment ago was starting to wash away. This man was no longer a complete, deranged stranger willing to murder you in cold blood. He was still unhinged and dangerous, but he'd shown he wasn't going to kill you immediately. Your chances of getting out of this situation were much more likely. You appreciated those odds.

"What did you-"

"Y' think i' was a coincidence?" He hummed, cocking his head slightly. "Getting that job. N' endin' up here?"

"Simon-"

"You were meant for me." Ghost said with pure conviction. "You were meant to be next to me...under me."

The egoistical side of you wanted to fight, to scream, to make it clear you'd never want him ever again. The other side was absolutely certain that to live through this encounter was to appeal to him. You'd done it before and it'd worked. It was partially why you'd slept with him so much back then. And why you'd forced yourself to cuddle into his iron grip afterwards.

"On your back. On your knees..." He kept trailed off, eyes drooping in arousal. You felt a hard twitch between your legs.

Your stomach lurched at the thought of your dead, fucked out body being haphazardly tossed on top of Leo's. You needed to live. You'd do whatever you had too. And you knew what'd it take.

"S-Simon...I-look I'm sorry." You swallowed hard, tasting nothing but copper. "You scare me sometimes, but I-I still really care about you."

"Don't lie to me, lovie." He scoffed. The usage of his old nickname made you shudder.

"Simon...I've never stopped thinking about y-you." You sighed out, feeling your skin flush with embarrassment for admitting such a thing. It was marginally a lie since you mostly thought about him with fear in your heart. But there was a part of you who missed his body, his hands, and how'd he'd fuck you apart night after night.

"Please....I-" You slowly moved to sit up on your elbows. As you did your core inadvertently brushed against him. A warm jolt of pleasure shot up through your spine and you couldn't help but bite your lip.

There was a new tension in the air.

"Always such a fuckin' minx." Ghost growled.

"J-just for you." You admitted, forcing your gaze away from Leo's body. "I swear..."

"I know." Ghost hummed, cupping your face in his palm. The sweet gesture made your lashes flutter.

"You're a good girl." He said, as if off in thought. "Just needed a break. N' now you're back, back w' me."

"I..." You blinked, feeling tears well in your eyes. You were playing right into his hand. You knew it, and yet...a part of you didn't care.

He'd pulled strings, murdered and God knows what else just to give you a life outside of him. It'd all been one big, nasty lie just to make you feel good. Just so your inevitable fall back into his arms would feel earned. Because you didn't earn anything. Your entire life trajectory had been an unearned lie. But somehow, someway, you'd earned his affections. And that was all that seemingly mattered in your life.

"Mm...missed you, love." He sighed.

With that he kissed you softly. He was too sweet, too loving. It made your heart ache. You couldn't stop the few sobs that escaped. He didn't seem to care as he licked over your blood tinged tongue. He tasted like he'd always had. Like fresh cigarettes and bitter pine. Your head swam.

"Fuck. M' missed the way you taste." Ghost sighed, licking his lips.

He roughly tugged your panties, making the stitching pop, forcing the elastic to dig into your flushed skin.

"W-wait I-" You squeaked.

It didn't matter. With an easy flick of his wrist the entire garment came off with a rip. The amount of strength and tension used on the cotton practically burned your skin as it was forced off of you. You cried out in discomfort, trying desperately to close your legs, but it was of no use.

Without another second to lose, Ghost hooked his arms up beneath your legs and forced them up. He pushed them back so hard and so quickly he forced the air out of your lungs. You gasped, trying to right yourself.

"There w' go." He growled, staring at your now bare cunt, your knees up to your ears. He kissed your mound, nuzzling his nose into the dusting of hair, breathing you in.

A part of you felt disgusted. You'd been sweating out in the desert, sweating in fear of him, and it seemed he was drinking it all in. Truly a beast he was.

"See you haven't shaved." He hummed, giving a few broad laps to your folds. With each lick, a bit of his thick saliva grew matted into the light dusting of hair. You whimpered.

"Good." He chuckled.

You yelped when he slipped his tongue into you. It was thick and wide and he'd never had any issues getting you open this way. He much preferred to lick your cunt lips apart to accommodate him than sully his fingers. You hated this despite how good it felt. His fingers were always a bit less personal. This way? You had no choice but to watch as he devoured you like a starving man.

You supposed he was.

He'd made it clear you were his and his alone. And if that was the case, then he was only yours too. At least, you'd hoped so. You hoped no other woman would ever be subjected to this torment.

You cried out, legs shaking from the stress but also the pleasure. You tried so hard not to watch him drill his fat tongue right between your lips. He was drooling, his saliva spilling down and down over your neglected clit and onto your squashed tits. He wiggled his tongue in a way that brushed over that rough spot he liked torment. He bullied the tip of his tongue as deep as he could, letting it point right between the gummy ridges of your g-spot. You couldn't help yourself.

It'd been years.

Every man you'd ever talked to had scorned you or disgusted you. You'd never wanted to touch one until Leo had come into your life. And even then, he was untouchable. You'd been too nervous to flirt. At the time you didn't know why, but now, you'd subconsciously known you'd had a skull on your back. Perhaps you were getting a slight kindness for staying untouched all this time.

You cried as you came. Your hips bucked and writhed. Your spine protested, your head swam from the lack of blood flow. Everything floated away for a gorgeous second before your soul slammed back into your addled body.

"Fuckin' 'ell..." Ghost purred. As he talked a wetness spilled out of his mouth. For a brief second you wondered if he was really drooling that much. "C'mon, lovie. Give it to me."

"Wha-"

Ghost latched onto your clit and sucked so hard you screamed. You felt two of his fingers slip inside you with no resistance. They bullied that spot again while he forced pleasure out of your nub. The first orgasm didn't have a chance to fade into an afterglow. The second orgasm came quickly. It burned. Your belly muscles didn't even have a chance to relax.

"Simon!" You mewled, absolutely lost.

He wouldn't stop. He kept taking and taking and taking. He let his teeth graze at the sensitive flesh of your clit. You saw stars again. This time, the orgasm was so violent you screamed. Every bone in your body shook. Your eyes rolled up into the back of your head.

You came to with the warm splashes of wetness against your breasts. A familiar and yet foreign pressure in your belly was being released. More warm wetness dripped quickly onto your neck and chin. You let out a weak cry.

When you finally managed to open your bleary eyes you realized what'd happened. The entire bottom half of Ghost's face was shiny with slick. He huffed against you with pure excitement in his eyes. Your cum coated the inside of his mouth with the telltale sheen of cream.

"Knew you were a squirter." He grinned at you.

It was as if your orgasm was a feast for him. He hungrily lapped every ounce of your relief off of your body. To get to your cummy chest he released your legs. They fell apart, and you groaned in relief. Fresh blood finally flowed to your head, and you grew dizzy.

"Ah ah, no goin' soft in th' head on me now, lovie." Simon hummed as he laved his big tongue over your wet breasts. He slapped your cheek. Not enough to really hurt you, but certainly enough to clear up the stars in your eyes.

"Simon..." You hiccuped.

"Only got a few minutes left." He mused, eyes scouring over your entirely bare body.

Despite wanting to fight him, your extremities felt like jelly. You couldn't even catch your breath. All you could do was lay there in complete submission.

Without a warning, Ghost used his strength to flip you completely over. He forced you up onto your knees and pressed your face into the now tainted sheets.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, but there wasn't much of a point anymore. No one was coming to help, and even if they did they'd be dead before they could process what was even happening to you. Ghost was going to take you. And you'd asked for it.

It beat death, right?

He entered you roughly from behind. Luckily, he'd prepped you well, so there wasn't any pain. Just the warm, muted burn of him stretching you open for the first time in years. You'd forgotten what the feeling of sex was like. You couldn't help the low groan that escaped your lungs.

Ghost was right there with you. He hissed loudly, gritting his teeth as he sunk right into you. His big, gloved hands palmed roughly at your ass. He forced your cheeks apart to no doubt give him an excellent view of where you joined together. You squeaked when you felt a couple of his thick fingers spread your lips apart even further.

"Fuckin' 'ell." He groaned. "Missed this tight lil' cunt o' yours."

You whimpered.

"Next time I'll make sure you get the fuck you deserve, lovie." He growled. "But m' runnin' short on time."

"Si-."

A hand roughly grabbed your throat and squeezed. You opened your mouth in shock but nothing came out. No words, no air, just a silent shock.

Ghost began to move, fucking you roughly. He wasted no time in forcing his fat cock back into those parts of yourself you didn't know existed. He kept his grip tight. You couldn't breathe in or out. Tears and panic began to well in your chest.

With the smallest amount of energy you had left, you tried to claw his hands away, but he just choked you tighter. The mix of fear, lack of oxygen, and pleasure was too much for your brain. Black spots began to form in your vision.

"There we...ngh-go." He huffed. Every thrust was punishing. You could feel his sharp hipbones and hefty balls slap into your core. Your only saving grace from the stinging contact was the cushion of your innate softness.

You began to choke. The pressure building in your chest and behind your eyes was immense. The entire room was spinning. Drool spilled past your open, air hungry lips. The black spots began to completely fill your vision. Everything started to float away into that dark, sleepy place.

"Fuck." Ghost panted, his thrusts becoming uneven. "Fuck!"

The moment he came, he let up on your airway.

Everything had turned black for you. When you finally came to, completely out of it, the entire act was over. It hurt to much to move, but you could feel the wet cream between your legs. It had been awhile but you could never forget the feeling of being stuffed with Simon's seed.

His comm unit made a static-y noise and he answered it.

"M' on m' way. Five minutes to exfil." He hummed. "N' I managed to catch a lil' bird."

Ghost didn't wait for his teammate to respond, instead he lazily got off the bed. He eyed your body, smirked, then pulled his mask back down.

"I hope you learned your lesson, lovie." He said, lovingly rubbing your cheek. "Time t' come home."

You couldn't make any noise, your voice stolen from you. You couldn't even swallow. All you could do was lay there and look at him as he took to work getting you dressed again. He was haphazard and rough. Anything he couldn't put back on you, he didn't. The last thing he adorned you with were ziptie handcuffs to your hands and feet.

Ghost then threw you over his shoulder and headed back out the way he came. He didn't even bother to walk over Leo's corpse. Instead, he opted to step directly onto the dead man's head. You closed your eyes and desperately tried to block out the sickening, wet sound.

The sunlight burned but its blinding, white rays were welcoming. You'd never thought you'd see the light of day again, and so the blistering heat of it was welcome. Something told you to relish in it, as it might be awhile before you'd get to see it again.

The position over Ghost's shoulder made it impossible to look up. The only thing you could see were the back of his legs and feet. However, you could hear the sound of men yelling and running around. They began to get washed out by a helicopter whirring, it's blades cutting the air and cooling the sweat on your skin.

Ghost stepped onto the helicopter and unceremoniously dropped you to the metal plated floor. You couldn't even groan in pain as your leg took the brunt of the fall. All you could do was lay there, restrained and in so many different versions of pain.

The small grouping of men in tactical gear hungrily eyed your body. Each one was more distinctive than the last. One of them slow whistled and when he spoke you recognized him as the man over the comm unit.

All of the men, including Ghost, stood around you. They discussed your fate, each one getting more and more creative as they went on. The one in charge, the one with the beard smiled sweetly down at you. He wiped a stray tear away from your face with the back of his curled index finger.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Simon. We'll get 'er to sing for us."

In that moment, you realized you should've asked Leo to shoot you when you had the chance.

[willalove75]

Could you write something where Rebecca and reader are fake dating and in one instance (for whatever reason) they have to kiss and because they both secretly enjoyed it they proceed to make up excuses to kiss each other more? Then maybe something happens that causes Rebecca to get jealous and make a public display which kind of forces them to confront their true feelings?

🥰🥰🥰

Love your work so much!

Oooh yes I love this! Thanks so much for the request!!💕

And thank you SO MUCH!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff! If you have any more requests feel free to send them my way! 💕

You and Keeley walk into Rebecca's office carrying bags of takeout.

"Hello!" Rebecca says happily.

Keeley runs over to Rebecca and gives her a big hug.

"Oh I haven't seen you in so long!" Keeley says.

"I know, now that you have your own PR firm you're too busy for me!"

Keeley gives Rebecca a pouty face and you walk over.

"Hi y/n!" Rebecca says as she goes to hug you.

"Hi Rebecca!" You say as she pulls you in for a hug.

"Let's eat, I'm starving!" She says.

The three of you make yourselves at home on her couch and have lunch.

"So what are you two up to this weekend?" Rebecca asks.

"Well, tomorrow night we're meeting up with some of my friends, including my ex and his crazy pretty new girlfriend." You say.

"Oh shit, that's tomorrow?" Keeley asks.

"Oh no," You say.

"Shit! I have a shoot tomorrow night! Oh y/n I'm SO sorry I totally forgot that was tomorrow!!" She says with disappointment.

"Keeleyyyyyy" you groan. "Fuck I can't go alone!"

"Why not?" Rebecca asks.

"Because her ex's new girlfriend is hot as fuck and she doesn't want to look like a total loser showing up to this big shindig alone." Keeley says.

"Pretty much. We still have a lot of friends in common and last time I saw the two of them I was alone and it was horrible!" You say. "Keeley was going to be my fake girlfriend for the night." You look over at her.

"I'm so sorry I feel so horrid!" She exclaims. "Wait! I have an idea! Rebecca, do you want to take my place and be y/n's fake girlfriend tomorrow?"

"Oh god you don't have to- I mean if you want to you can but I'd feel terrible dragging you into this." You say.

"Pleaseee take my place tomorrow night!" Keeley begs Rebecca donning puppy dog eyes.

Rebecca thinks about it for a minute and finally says

"Fuck it, why not! I have nothing going on tomorrow night anyway.”

"Really?" You ask with wide eyes. "You know she meant like girlfriend girlfriend, not just like a friend who's a girl, right? I just want to make sure before you agree and then realize it's not what you expected."

"Yeah why not, I think it'll be fun!" She says.

"Oh it's gonna be so good!!" Keeley says. "Ugh now I really wish I was going just to see his stupid face when you walk in with one of the hottest women in London!"

The three of you laugh and you give Rebecca some details and continue your lunch. You guys pack up and get ready to head out and say your goodbyes.

"Byeee!" Keeley says hugging Rebecca.

"By love." She says back.

"Bye, thank you so much, seriously, I really owe you for this!" You say giving her a hug.

"Not a problem at all! But drinks are on you." She says with a laugh.

"That's totally fair." You say.

The next day comes around and your nerves start to kick in, it was one thing when it was Keeley that was going to be your fake girlfriend, she's one of your best friends. Even though you've gotten to know Rebecca really well, you still don't know her as well as you know Keeley and you hope it doesn't go sideways.

You get ready for the night and the group chat with all of your friends that will be there starts exploding with "I'm so excited to see you all!" "I can't wait for you to meet my new boyfriend!" and the like. One of your best friends, Callie, sends a message to the group chat.

"I heard y/n has a new friend she's bringing tonight 👀😜"

The group chat goes nuts, thank god you didn't tell anyone who you were taking with you before Keeley canceled or this would get real weird real fast. You reply to the chat

"Mayybeeee 😉"

A bunch of your friends heart react to it and you notice one person give it a thumbs up, you check to see who it was and it was from your ex, Brian.

"Well, here goes nothing." You think to yourself.

You get a text from Rebecca saying that she's here and you walk out of your flat and get into her car.

"Hi! You look beautiful!" She says as she leans over the center console to give you a hug.

"Hi! Thank you so much for doing this, seriously you really didn't have to."

"Of course! I couldn't let my girl go alone!" She says as she playfully nudges you.

You talk about who's going to be at the restaurant and giving Rebecca cliff notes of who each person is. You pull up and you both get out of the car. She looks stunning, a tight red dress that hugs her body perfectly. It looks like it was made custom to show off every amazing curve on her body, you actually wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

Before you walk into the restaurant you pause and take a deep breath, Rebecca looks over at you, sensing your nerves.

"We're gonna kill it." She says with a smile.

You smile back at her and she holds her hand out, you grab it and you walk hand-in-hand into the restaurant.

You walk to the back room where everyone has gathered and you hear cheering and excitement when you walk in.

"Y/n!!" Callie says as she runs over to hug you. "Oh I missed you so much oh my god!!" She squeezes you tighter.

"I missed you so much too!" You squeeze her back.

Callie looks over at Rebecca and back at you and gives you a nod of approval.

"Cal, this is Rebecca. Rebecca, this is my best friend Callie."

"It's so great to finally meet you!" Callie says.

"It's so great to finally meet you as well!" Rebecca says as they shake hands.

Another friend calls Callie over and she excuses herself, as she walks past you she says with a smirk

"Damn girl, look at you."

You give her a look as she continues to walk away.

"Sorry," you say to Rebecca as you blush.

"Oh don't be, at least we know it's working." She says with a giggle. "Come on, I want to meet the rest of my girlfriends friends." She says with a wink.

You go around the room and introduce her to your friends and their partners, no one can seem to keep their eyes off of Rebecca. You hear whispers of "no way", "damn, good for her" and so on.

You feel really awkward interacting with your friends, worried about doing something that would make Rebecca uncomfortable. As you're talking to some friends you feel her slide her arm around your waist and you look up at her. She can feel your nervousness and gives you a comforting look, you relax a little and lean into her as she pulls you closer.

You start feeling more comfortable, you and Rebecca start flirting like a real couple would, sometimes you have to remind yourself that it's not real and you're both just playing a part.

About 30 minutes after you arrive you hear more cheering as someone else walks in and you hear someone yell

"Brian's finally here! Now the party can really start!"

You freeze when you hear his name and you're flooded with nerves. Rebecca must have picked up on your anxiousness because she turns you towards her and holds your hands as she looks into your eyes.

"You're okay," she says with a comforting smile. "We got this." She pulls you in for a hug. You relax into her arms and you feel her place a kiss on the top of your head as she holds you. Your anxiousness turns into butterflies in your stomach and you try to ignore them.

"It's not real." You think to yourself.

You take her hand and lead her towards the front of the room. Through the crowd you see Brian, looking as handsome as ever, with his obnoxiously gorgeous girlfriend Olivia.

"Wow, she is beautiful." Rebecca whispers to you.

"Yeah I wasn't kidding, it all makes much more sense now doesn't it?" You say with a small laugh.

"It sure does." She looks down at you. "But we look hotter than them anyway." She gives you a wink and a playful smile.

You feel your cheeks blush and the butterflies flutter in your belly again as you hear someone calling your name.

"Y/n!" You look up to see Brian calling you over.

You shake off the butterflies and walk over with Rebecca.

"Hey Brian! How are you?"

He pulls you in for a hug and you get a whiff of his cologne. You immediately notice that it's the one you bought him, your favorite scent. You feel the pain in your heart and try to ignore it.

"Good, you remember Olivia, right?" He asks.

"Of course," you turn to her. "Hey, how have you been?" You give her a hug.

"I've been well! How about you?"

"Good," you turn to Rebecca. "Brian, Olivia, this is Rebecca," you pause for a moment and look at her, she looks down at you and her eyes sparkle. "My girlfriend." You look at her proudly. "Rebecca, this is Brian and Olivia."

"It's so lovely to meet you both." Rebecca says shaking their hands.

She pulls her hand back and places it on the small of your back.

"Nice to meet you." Brian says. "You know I was surprised when you said you were bringing someone y/n. I didn't know you were seeing everyone."

"Yeah," you say, unsure of how to respond.

"We've been together for a few months now, but I was the one who wanted to keep quiet about it for a bit," Rebecca interjects. "And y/n was so patient with me, so as soon as she told me about this event, I figured it was the perfect time to officially meet everyone."

"Damn she's good at this." You think to yourself.

You think you see a hint of jealousy on Brian's face when Rebecca speaks, he puts his hand around Olivia's waist and pulls her in closer as they chat.

"Well love," Rebecca says, looking down at you. She gently pushes a stray hair out of your face and her thumb caresses your cheek. "I think it's time for a drink, what do you think?"

"I think so." You say, looking up into her eyes.

You both maintain eye contact for an extra second as you get lost in her gorgeous green eyes. The butterflies in your stomach get riled up again as you look at her, you look away back at Brian and you can clearly see, he's jealous.

You say goodbye to Brian and Olivia and lead Rebecca to the bar. You both order drinks and as promised, you pay for them. You find some empty chairs and take a seat at one of the tables filled with people you know, including Callie, and start chatting.

"So Rebecca, how did you two meet?" Callie asks with a raised eyebrow.

You look over at Rebecca, she sees the worry in your eyes. You just realized you guys never discussed this and you're terrified your cover is going to be blown. Rebecca looks back into your eyes and smiles and looks over at Callie.

"Well, y/n is great friends with one of my best friends, Keeley Jones," the table is a little star struck at the name drop, everyone knows who Keeley Jones is. "And we all went out for dinner one night and we got on really well. I thought she was beautiful and asked for her number and from there we spent more and more time together and we decided to give this a shot." She holds your hand and looks at you lovingly.

The table "aw's" at the two of you and you lean in closer to her, still holding hands.

The night goes on, you order more drinks and chat and have fun with your friends. You end up at a table with James, Brian's best friend, Brian, Olivia, Callie, her boyfriend and a few others. James is pretty wasted and starts to question your relationships.

“Y/n, I don’t fuckin believe for a second that you’re actually dating the owner of AFC Richmond. Can you fuckin’ believe that mate?” He says to Brian.

"How do you-" You begin to ask.

"How the fuck do I not?! Richmond is in my blood!" He says as he turns around, pulls his shirt off and shows off a Greyhounds tattoo on his shoulder.

Brian definitely doesn’t look thrilled, but shrugs him off.

“Shut up James, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say defensively.

“You’re fuckin’ lying, I bet she’s a fake date.”

Your face gets red, both with embarrassment and anger and look over at Rebecca. She looks calm and unbothered, she holds your hand and strokes the back of it with her thumb.

“James what the fuck do they have to do to prove to you they’re together, make out in front of you? You're ridiculous.” Callie argues back.

“Actually,” James says with a smirk “that’s exactly what they’d have to do.”

“Oh fuck off James. I don’t even know why you were invited. No one here besides Brian even fucking likes you.” You say.

“If you were a real couple, you wouldn’t fight it.” He says back.

You look over at Rebecca with fear in your eyes. She smiles at you as the rest of the table chimes in.

“I mean he’s not wrong!” “Just kiss her she’s your girlfriend.” "James shut the fuck up."

You look over at Callie, she senses your nervousness, but only thinks it’s because of them hounding you both to kiss.

“You don’t have to and I wouldn't blame you because he's an absolute knobhead, but it will shut him up and he won’t keep saying this shit for the rest of the night. It's up to you.” Callie says.

You turn back to Rebecca, you have no idea what to do, she can tell immediately that you’re freezing. She adjusts her chair to face you more and tucks a piece of hair gently behind your ear, leaving her hand resting on your cheek, and looks into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” she says gently with a smile.

“Are you sure?” You ask back.

She nods and you study her face for a minute, trying to find any sense of hesitation or discomfort. You find neither, she's either one of the best actresses you've ever seen, or she's genuinely okay with this.

You take a deep breath in and she pulls you into her. You don't think you've ever been this nervous before as you lean into the kiss. Your lips meet and the first thing you notice is how soft and warm her lips are. The sounds of the restaurant are suddenly muffled, you feel your body relax as a warmth runs through you and the butterflies in your belly go crazy. You're not sure if it's the butterflies or nerves, or maybe something else entirely, but you feel sparks between your lips as they meet. The scent of her perfume fills your nostrils as you kiss, so elegant and heavenly. The façade you two have built crumbles as your bottom lips slides between hers. You bring your hand up to her face, your fingers resting on her smooth skin, you pull her in closer and she puts her other hand on your leg. She gently licks your lips and you part yours, your tongues quickly caress each other and you feel like you're floating . She gently sucks on your bottom lip as you part and you feel like the air in your lungs was stolen from you for a moment.

You notice your heart is beating so fast you think it's going to explode, you're a little afraid to open your eyes as you part and see her upset or turned off. You gain up the courage and open your eyes and meet her gaze. She's looks a little surprised, but her lips are curved into a satisfied smile.

"Is this real?" You ask yourself.

The entire world around you vanished for a moment and you're suddenly jolted back when you hear the commotion from your kiss.

You look back to the table and you look over at Callie, who has the biggest smile on her face, James looks shocked, and Brian isn't even looking at the two of you, he doesn't look happy.

Rebecca glares at James and he says nothing as he slinks away, you and Rebecca look at each other and laugh.

"Holy shit." Callie says looking wide-eyed at the both of you. "That was the hottest kiss I think I've ever see in my entire life."

You and Rebecca laugh and you rest your head on her shoulder.

With James taken care of, everyone's convinced that you two are together without a doubt and the night continues.

You notice that the flirting between you and Rebecca becomes effortless, you both putting your arms around each other, your hand rests on her leg, she touches your arm occasionally, like you're really a couple.

You get up to go to the bathroom and she pulls you in for a quick kiss before you walk away. You're definitely surprised, but very much into it. You feel the sparks again as your lips meet and the butterflies go nuts. You gently bite your lower lip after you part and you head off.

You make your way back and walk up to Rebecca sitting at the bar.

"There she is!" Rebecca says with a smile.

"I hope you didn't miss me too much!" You playfully respond.

You put your hands on her hips as she drapes her arms around your shoulders, you look into each others eyes and you get lost in hers for a minute. You're brought back to Earth when the bartender puts two drinks down on the bar. You hop into your seat and you both enjoy your drinks.

Callie runs up to you and pulls you off of the stool towards the dance floor.

"Come on!" You say to Rebecca, grabbing at her hand.

"Oh no, I don't dance. But go! I'll hang out here." She replies with a smile.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely!"

You kiss her again before you head off and like the previous kisses, sparks ignite when your lips land on hers. You smile as you look into her eyes and she looks like she's beaming. At this point, you're really not sure if you're pretending anymore. You head off to the dance floor and dance with your friends.

A slow song comes on and Callie's boyfriend steals her away and you go to walk off of the dancefloor. Brian slides in front of you and grabs you to dance, his movements as smooth as butter.

"What are you doing?" You ask with a laugh.

"What, I can't dance with my ex?"

"Usually that's pretty frowned upon."

"Ah, well, I was never one to follow the status quo."

"I'm sure your girlfriend would beg to differ."

He laughs and you're immediately transported back to when you were dating. You loved his laugh, it never failed to make you smile even when you didn't want to.

"So how you doin' y/n?" He asks.

"I've been good, how have you been?"

"Not bad, not bad at all."

He spins you and pulls you back into him. You catch a glimpse of Rebecca sitting at the bar and you can tell something changed.

"How's your girlfriend? You know I was surprised when I heard you had a girlfriend."

"She's wonderful, and I don't know why, you knew I liked girls." You say, rolling your eyes. "Speaking of girlfriends Brian, your girlfriend Olivia is going to kill the both of us if she sees us dancing. What's going on?"

"And your girlfriend won't?" He asks with a smirk.

You look over his shoulder and Rebecca has turned her back to you both, leaning on the bar.

"She very well might." You give him a look.

"Nothings going on, I just wanted a chance to talk to you by ourselves for a minute, I miss our talks." He says sincerely.

You sigh and give him a look.

"I do too, but, we broke up, we've both moved on,"

"Why can't we be friends?" He says cutting you off.

"I'm not saying we can't, but I am saying we cannot slow dance alone. Go get your girlfriend and bring her out here before she leaves you too." You give him a playful smirk and twirl away from him and head towards Rebecca.

"Hey," you say, sitting next to her.

"Hi."

You notice she's looking down into her drink, slowly swirling it in her glass, she doesn't look up at you.

"Hey, are you okay?" You ask concerned.

"Yeah," she says and pauses for a moment, watching the mixed drink swirl around. "Actually, I don't know."

"What happened?" You put your hand on her arm, worried that something happened when you were with Brian.

She looks up at you, there's a sadness in her eyes you immediately pick up on.

"Rebecca," you look into her eyes, worried about her. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she says shaking her head. "Nothing, I'm fine actually."

"You're definitely not."

"Ohhh trouble in paradise!" James says a little too loudly.

"Shut up James, Jesus, don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope." He says, keen on watching this play out.

You push him away and Rebecca gets up and goes to walk away. You grab her arm and gently pull her towards you as you stand.

"Rebecca," you look up into her eyes, desperate to know why she's upset.

She looks away from your gaze, you see her looking over at Brian dancing with a visibly unhappy Olivia and you realize why she's upset. You know she's not acting, she's not playing the "jealous girlfriend" part, seeing you two together genuinely upset her and your heart breaks when you realize what's going on.

"Oh god," you pull her closer to you and your hand slides up to her cheek. She looks back at you, the hurt in her eyes makes you want to cry. "Honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't realize-" You're lost for words, tears well up in your eyes, the guilt eats away at you, even though you didn't know for sure that she had feelings for you.

"I know," she says and looks away. "I didn't either but- when I saw you- when we-" She looks back into your eyes and takes a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore." She says quietly, her eyes becoming glassy.

"I'm so sorry, I never would have- I didn't- fuck!" You look away as a tear rolls down your cheek. You look up into her eyes, a few tears fall onto her cheeks and you wipe them away. "It's okay."

You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her in for a hug, she hesitates for a second, but tightly wraps her arms around your waist. You place on hand on the back of her head and hold her close.

"I don't want to pretend anymore." She whispers into your ear as you hold each other.

"Me either." You whisper back. "I feel like I stopped pretending hours ago. I just didn't know that you- I'm so sorry."

"I stopped pretending after that first kiss."

You pull back and look into her eyes.

"I thought I was crazy, that I thought there was- I just told myself it was nerves."

She shakes her head, you wipe away a few more tears and hold her face in your hand. You see sadness and fear in her eyes, neither of you expected this to happen when you agreed to come here as fake girlfriends.

You pull her into you and kiss her, you feel her wrap one had around your waist and the other slides up your shoulder blades as you hold her face. Her lips salty from her tears, you gently lick her bottom lip and she opens just enough for your tongue to slide in. She caresses your tongue with hers and kisses you harder, you've never felt so connected to someone else when you kissed them. She pulls away, the tears on her face dried, you look into her eyes and the fear and sadness is gone. You let out a sigh of relief and notice that a lot of the people around you stopped and watched. You feel your cheeks get red and Rebecca whispers into your ear

"Come with me."

She grabs your hand and leads you away without saying another word. She takes you outside and brings you to her car in the carpark. She opens the back door and gets in and pulls you in after her. You shut the door, as soon as you turn to face her she kisses you again. She pulls away, holding your face in her hands and looks into your eyes.

"We needed to talk without anyone else around. And I just needed to know that it wasn't-"

"It wasn't." You say, looking back into her eyes.

"I can't pretend that I like you, not when I care about you so much. I'm so sorry I got upset but watching you dance with him, it did something to me that I wasn't expecting and it terrified me."

"I don't want to pretend anymore either, I thought I was crazy for thinking that there was something between us after that first kiss so I had to convince myself it was just nerves. But I kept forgetting we were pretending, it felt so real. I wanted it to be real."

Rebecca pulls you into her and your lips meet again, the sparks more intense now than they have ever been. She pulls you into her lap and you straddle her in the backseat of her car. She gently digs her nails into you as she grabs handfuls of your dress, you slide one hand to the back of her head, you run your fingers through her soft blond hair and hold onto it. You feel your heartbeats become one as your tongues explore each others mouths. Small moans escape as both of you gasp for air between kisses, the moment becomes more and more intense the longer you kiss.

The kiss slows as you both hold each other close, both of you panting trying to catch your breath. You feel her soft lips brush against yours, her eyelashes gently caressing your cheek when she closes her eyes. You feel her warm breath on your face, she loosens her grip on you but still firmly holds onto your hips. You pull back and look into her eyes, glimmering in the dimly lit carpark and you can't help but smile as you look at her for a minute.

"So, no more pretending." You say breaking the silence. "It's for real this time, right?"

She gently kisses you again and looks into your eyes.

"Right."

You kiss her once more before you get out of the car. You two walk hand-in-hand back into the restaurant and reclaim your seats at the bar.

"Is everything okay?" Callie slides up next to you and quietly asks.

"Yeah, everything is fine." You say back.

"Are you sure? Because it didn't look fine five minutes ago." She glances over at Rebecca.

"Yes, it was just a misunderstanding, but we got it sorted, I promise. Everything is good now, probably better than it was before honestly." You say with a smile.

"Okay, just wanted to make sure."

You give her a hug and turn your attention back to Rebecca. You grab her hand and kiss the back of it, holding it against your cheek. She smiles at you and nuzzles into you, a newfound sense of peace washing over you both.

Another slow song comes on and Rebecca's attention is immediately grabbed.

"Oh I love this song!" She says.

You get up out of your chair to guide her to the dance floor, she hesitates for a minute.

"Come on baby, dance with me, just this one." You say with a smile.

She gets up and pulls you into her and kisses you.

"I love hearing you call me that."

You both head to the dance floor, your hand around her waist, hers around yours and your other hands gently clasped together, you sway to the beat of the song. You lay your head on her chest while you move as one and listen to her steady heartbeat. The room around you vanishes as you close your eyes, letting the rhythm guide you. You open your eyes and look up at her, her green eyes shining as the lights reflect off of them. She looks down at you with a smile, looking deeply into your eyes. Before you know it your lips are interlocked, you bring your hands up to her face and she places her hands on your hips. Your lips part and you rest your head against hers, letting the music continue to guide your movements. The song comes to and end and Rebecca gently twirls you and you spin back into her arms, your lips meeting hers once again.

You head back to the bar and close out your tab as the night comes to an end. You say your goodbyes to your friends and you see Brian, he gives you a nod and you return the action. You and Rebecca walk back to the car, hand-in-hand, your fingers interlocked and your arms gently swaying as you walk through the carpark.

You get into the car and she looks over at you.

"So, babe," she says with a smile. "Would you like to come back to my place?"

"I would love to, my beautiful girlfriend."

You both giggle as you lean in for a kiss. Rebecca puts the car in drive and pulls away.

Walking into the restaurant tonight, you never would have guessed that this is how your night would end, but you're more than happy about it.

[sl-walker]

Preview...

...from the next yet-unposted chapter of Stardust.

--

“I could eat at least three horses right now,” Booster said, looking over his array of plates and bowls, completely undeterred by the fact that it wasn’t even seven in the morning yet and the only people as awake and ready to go as him were the various geriatrics in the IHOP getting an early-bird special.  The way he saw it, caffeine existed for a glorious purpose and while he hadn’t needed any to get moving today, he had been in an insomnia-hangover himself a worrying number of times and therefore he held no mercy (and only conditional compassion) for those who were dawdling on waking up. “Maybe three and a half.”

“Oh no, Secretariat goes cannibal and destroys his brethren in his haste to fill the empty pit of his stomach,” Ted fired back, though it was with laughter in his voice as he clutched his mug of coffee like he’d shank whoever might try to take it. “Thoroughbreds everywhere react to the scandal tonight on CLTV in a stunning exposé!”

Brenda, Paco and Jaime were all nodding over their plates, looking like they hadn’t even actually woken up to roll out of bed.  Even then, Brenda picked her head up and squinted blearily at Ted. “Aren’t thoroughbreds the high-strung horses that keel over if you look at them cross-eyed?” she asked.

“I literally just asked that myself yesterday!” Booster said, pointing at her with his fork and well-speared sausage.  “Gotta say, I’m not sure how I feel about being compared to a critter that dies so easily.”  He was, however, a little more worried that the ‘high-strung’ part might be too on-target for his comfort.

“S’okay, I might have to kill you for being so awake right now,” Jaime mumbled, teetering over sideways until he was tucked halfway between Booster’s shoulder and the back of the curved booth. “And so happy about it.”

“It’s not my fault you stayed out so late.”  Still, Booster set his fork down long enough to reach across himself and lightly ruffle Jaime’s hair in something like a mixed apology and commiseration. “C’mon, today’s gonna be great.”

“You were out running by 5:30, ese, humans don’t do that,” Paco said, before shoving his plate of bacon and eggs away so he could fold his arms on the table and drop his head down onto them.  “Not normal, sane humans.”

All things being equal, Booster was an early-riser by nature, if not always factually; that he’d slept as well as he had the night before meant he felt pretty amazing right now, though. “In fairness, Paco, you were still awake when I left to go running.”

Paco groaned and shook his head against his arms. “Only ‘cause you were channeling Maria von Trapp in the kitchen.”

Booster opened his mouth to ask who the hell that was, but Ted shook his head with a grin and held up a finger before pulling his phone out and aiming at them.  When Booster raised his eyebrows in question, Ted mouthed, ‘Bianca,’ then took a shot of him and Jaime, the latter of whom might have fallen back asleep in the less-than-a-minute since he’d last spoken.  Booster made sure to beam for the camera, though, because he knew it would make a funny contrast to the probably-asleep teenager using him as a blackout blind and pillow.

Whatever Bianca texted back must have made Ted happy, because he smiled.

“Who’s Maria von Trapp?” Booster asked, before diving back into his breakfast.

Brenda finally managed to rally enough to drag her coffee close and start into her pancakes. “Who hasn’t seen the Sound of Music?”

“I don’t think they have whimsical anti-Nazi musicals in his time,” Ted said, sliding his phone over, presumably so Booster could both see the picture and Bianca’s response.

Booster dropped his fork again just to snatch it; the picture was admittedly very cute.  Bianca’s string of emojis in answer was every bit as cute.  Booster quickly sent the picture to his own phone and then slid Ted’s back to him. “I wouldn’t be against watching some whimsical anti-Nazi musical,” he said, on a delay.

“If you show him that, we are never, ever, ever getting back together,” Paco said, rolling his head to the side towards his-- maybe girlfriend?  Ex?  Who even knew, Booster couldn’t keep up with it, it seemed to change by the day.  “We would never stop hearing it.”

“Oooh, incentive,” Brenda snarked back.  Then, casual as can be, she wet a fingertip in her mouth and stuck it, wiggling, into Paco’s ear.

The subsequent shriek made every single person in the vicinity -- regardless of their hearing aids or lack thereof -- jump half out of their skin.  A line cook in the back swore something that sounded Eastern European in origin.  Jaime jolted out of his hiding spot and Booster was certain the reason the kid didn’t armor up and have a cannon cycling, ready to go, was because both Booster and Ted immediately reassured him that it was safe.

Brenda had turned fire-engine red.  Paco was glaring at her while swiping at his ear.  Jaime was looking around with his mouth hanging open, clearly having lost the plot.

Ted chewed his bottom lip, obviously about to bust up, even as someone managerial-looking started in their direction, IHOP nametag glinting menacingly in the sun.

Booster put on his most charming smile and said, “Perfect timing!  Can we get the check?  And some boxes?”

[svechnikovvv]

father figure

pairing: quinn hughes x single mom!fem!reader

warnings: profanity, deadbeat father

summary: you realize that quinn is the one for you and your son

a/n: dad quinn 🙏

masterlist: here

quinn and i have been neighbors for a few years and he was always helpful whenever i needed someone to help me with flynn.

a knock on the door sounds through my small apartment and i hear flynn’s footsteps run over.

“flynn l/n! don’t you open that door!” i walk over to where he is and he’s looking up at me with his doe eyes.

“let the adult answer it, okay?” he nods and i look through the peep-hole and see quinn standing there. unlocking the door, i open it and he smiles when he sees me and his smile grows even more when he sees flynn.

“quinn!” flynn hugs quinn’s long legs and quinn let’s out a laugh, ruffling his hair.

“hey little man.”

“guess what today is!” flynn jumps around

“what is today?”

“my birthday!” quinn gasps, feigning shock

“it is?” flynn nods. “how old are you today? 24?” he laughs and shakes his head, holding up four fingers.

“i’m four!”

“wow, you’re getting old.”

“noooo, mommy’s old!” he points at me and i gasp. the two of them are laughing and i shake my head, a smile on my face.

“alright kiddo, let’s move so quinn can come in. i think aunt scar & uncle reece will be here soon.” he jumps up and down excitedly.

“are they bringing baby ellie?” i nod and he cheers, running into the living room. quinn steps inside, shutting the door behind him.

“where do i set his birthday present?”

“i can take it,” he hands me the bag and it’s a bit heavy. i give him a sideways glance and he smiles.

“you’ll see when he opens it.” i playfully roll my eyes

ten minutes later, scarlett, reece and baby ellie arrive and flynn’s focus is only on them.

“can i hold her?” he asks, looking between the two of them. scarlett nods

“but you’ll need to sit down first little man.” flynn climbs up on the couch and holds out his arms. we all laugh and scarlett instructs him the right way to hold a baby. she then gently places ellie in his arms and he just watches her. she opens her eyes and looks up at him, starting to giggle. he laughs with her and i feel a presence beside me.

“he’d make an amazing older brother.” quinn. i nod in agreement to his statement.

“he definitely would. it’s like—he’s chaotic. but as soon as he sees ellie, he’s a bull in a china shop.” quinn softly laughs as we watch flynn just stare at ellie.

“okay kiddo, ready for presents?” he looks up at me and excitedly nods. scarlett takes the baby back into her arms and flynn scoots off the couch, sitting on the floor.

“okay, the first one is from aunt scar and uncle reece.” i place a bag in front of him and he opens it. he pulls out a spider-man lego set. he lets out a gasp, looking at his aunt and uncle.

“legos! thank you aunt scar and uncle reece!” he then looks at me. “can we build this now, mommy?” i laugh, shaking my head

“open your other presents and you and i will build it later, okay?” he nods. he then goes for the big box i had wrapped for him. i watch anxiously as he tears away at the paper. a gasp then comes from his mouth and he looks back at me, getting up and running over to me. i bend down and engulf him in a hug.

“i love it so much!” i smile and then he pulls back, running over to the mini indoor hockey kit i bought him.

“i can be like quinn now!”

“maybe we’ll do a little one on one sometime.” he says, making flynn get excited. he then proceeds to open all the bags of clothes i bought him and then he finally gets to quinn’s gift. he pulls out a youth hughes jersey, and some candy. then he pulls out a blue envelope. he tears it open and two pieces of paper fall out.

“what’s that, kiddo?”

“hockey tickets!” he cheers and my mouth slightly drops, looking at quinn.

“quinn you didn’t have to.” he shrugs and walks over to me.

“figured he was overdue to see his favorite hockey player on the ice.” i give him a soft smile and once all the gifts have been opened, it’s cake time. quinn turns off the lights and i light the four candles on the spider-man cake. the four of us then sing happy birthday to flynn and when we’re done, i tell him to make a wish and blow out the candles. he closes his eyes and blows them out.

everyone is at the small dining room table eating a piece of cake and ice cream when i slip off into my thoughts. flynn was growing up right in front of my eyes. soon he’ll be starting school, then before i know it, he’ll be in college.

i’m snapped out of my thoughts at the sound of a knock on the door. my brows furrow and i get up, excusing myself. it slips my mind to check the peep-hole, so when i open the door to see drew, flynn’s father, i’m shocked.

“what the hell are you doing here?” i harshly whisper to him.

“what? i can’t see my son on his birthday?”

“you mean your son that you left me to raise on my own? you mean the son that you’ve missed every milestone for? you mean the son that you decided to ditch when you found out i was pregnant with him? don’t act like father of the year, now, drew. and he has a name, you conceited dick.” i go to shut the door, but he stops it with his hand.

“y/n, come on, don’t be so uptight.” i step out of the apartment and shut the door behind me. i point a finger at him.

“you have no right to come here and call me uptight and request to see your son that you weren’t bothered to know in the first place.”

“well i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“that’s not the damn point. what the hell am i supposed to tell him when he starts going to school and asks why he doesn’t have a dad like the other kids in his class? what do i do then, drew? since you’re full of bright fucking ideas today, tell me.”

“look, y/n, it was a mistake-” i cut him off.

“took you four years to notice!” a door then opens and i hear my name.

“y/n?” i turn and see quinn standing there. he looks between drew and i and i see his jaw clench.

“oh this is cute. who’s your little friend?” i slap him across his face.

“get the hell away from flynn and i and don’t ever show your face here again.” i turn on my heel and walk over to quinn as he places a hand on my back, ushering me back inside. he closes and locks the door behind us and i lean against the wall, letting out a shaky breath. quinn pulls me to him and i quietly cry into his chest.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” he whispers and runs my back soothingly. i cry a little more before quinn pulls apart.

“hey, look at me.” i manage to look up at him and he softly smiles when his eyes meet mine. he wipes the tears from under my eyes and leaves his hands on my cheeks.

“i’ll take you to the police first thing tomorrow and we’ll file a restraining order against him, okay?” i nod and he places a kiss on my forehead.

“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you two.” he whispers and it’s as if a switch flips in my head. who was there to help me with flynn at 12 in the morning? quinn. who was there to watch him when scarlett and i had a girls night out? quinn. who was there to let me cry about how my parents wouldn’t help me with flynn? quinn was.

it’s always been quinn.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks me and without thinking, i connect our lips together. he freezes a bit before he melts into it, removing one of his hands off my face and onto my hip. he pulls me closer to him and he deepens the kiss. we then pull apart and he’s breathing heavily.

“it’s always been you, quinn.” he smiles and then we’re cut off by a voice.

“mommy kissed quinn!” flynn runs off to the kitchen and quinn and i laugh.

“busted.” he wraps an arm around my waist and we walk back to the kitchen just in time to see reece handing scarlett fifty dollars.

“you guys bet on us?”

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @woodruff-edwards @marsthehockeywhore @samosmackie @hughesx3 @jayda12 @theywantedplayer @austinbutlerscaresme @jackhues @jackhughesily @babydollmarauders @equallyshaw @astars-things @akengii

a/n: hope you all liked this one (:

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 10

word count - 866

warnings - none

Summary: Lina's made it to the end of her first week of work.

Friday morning arrives, overcast and a little cold. Stretching, I turn off my alarm and get out of bed. Yawning, I take my shower and get ready for work, thankful that I've figured out a quicker way of doing my hair. Leaving Val a note telling her to have fun this weekend, I finish getting dressed.

In what feels like no time at all, I'm walking briskly down the sidewalk to get to the station quickly. Making it with several minutes to spare until the Metro is due to arrive, I sit back and take a deep breath, then reach into my purse to grab my book.

After reading about a chapter, the Metro pulls in, and I put my book away and stand up, waiting till the vehicle comes to a stop. Stepping on, I scan the nearby rows, looking for Spencer.

Finding where he is, I make my way over, sitting in a seat near him. "Hey, Doc. How're you this morning?" I ask, turning sideways to face him. 

He gives me a shy smile, saying, "Oh, I'm good. Here's your coffee." and hands me a medium-sized cup. 

"Ah, so nice and warm, thank you, Spence," I say, giving him a soft smile. 

I take a sip, and remembering our plans for tomorrow, I give a small hum and ask him, "Oh, um, where would you want to go tomorrow? We could go to a Starbucks. I know there's, like, a million of them, but there's one right across the street from my stop, so we wouldn't have to go too far."

"I'm only suggesting that one because I know we both know where my stop is, but if you wanted to go to a Starbucks closer to you, or a different one altogether, we could," I say quickly. I look at Spencer as he takes a drink of his coffee, a slightly amused look on his face. 

I start to babble again. "Or-or we could go to a different coffee shop if you want. I don't really have a preference. If-if you still wanted to, that is.." 

His eyes widen and he rushes to say, "Y-yeah! I still want to. I'm just...I don't want to make any plans too solid, you know?" 

Feeling a bit crestfallen, I just murmur an, "Oh, okay..." while nodding dumbly and looking down. Noticing my demeanor, he quickly continues. 

"N-no, it's just that we could get called in for a case at any time. It's happened before. On my last birthday, we got called in, just as we were about to have the cake. So, um, th-that's why. B-but, if we do get called in, we can always h-hang out after we get back. If-if you'd like." he finishes, blushing slightly.

I look at him, a small smile blooming on my face and I nod in understanding. "Yeah. Yeah, I would like that, Spencer." I say quietly, taking a small sip of my coffee. He gives me a shy smile and looks out the window, then signals for the Metro to stop for us to make our exit.

As we walk and sip our coffees, we talk and laugh about what we expect to happen tonight. "So, what questions should I be expecting from our colleagues tonight, Doc?" I ask Spencer. 

He groans and replies with, "Oh, if you can think of it, they'll probably ask."

He gives me an apologetic look and continues. "I, uh, hope you don't mind your personal life being put under a microscope." 

I snort and say, "They're gonna be inspecting a blank slide." 

He raises his eyebrows and asks, "Oh? How so?" 

I chuckle lightly and say, "Before starting on Monday, the only people I would spend time with on even a semi-regular basis were my classmates, my professors, my roommate, and her boyfriend. I'm...kinda hoping working here gives me more people to be friends with. Like, actual friends, not just, like, co-worker friends, you know?"

He nods slowly, and I continue. "I mean, I've got hope. Everyone's been really nice, and I get along ridiculously well with you and Penny. I haven't interacted much with anyone else yet, but I'm sure that'll change as time goes on."

Spencer chuckles and says, "Well, you've got Morgan wracking his brain for a nickname you'll like, so that's a good sign. The only other people he's given nicknames to are me and Garcia, so take what you will from that."

Walking into the building, we take the elevator up to the offices. As we head into the bullpen, we're greeted by Derek, who says, "Hey, you two. Another coffee run, huh?" 

"Before you start," Spencer says, digging into his satchel and pulling a bag out, tossing it to Derek. "I got you something, so I don't want to hear it today, got it, Morgan?" he finishes with a smile. 

Derek catches it and looks inside, then breaks out into a million-watt grin and says, "Thanks, man!"

Spencer smiles, then turns to me and asks, "I'll see you for lunch, right?" 

I smile and reply with, "Yeah, of course. I'll see you then, Spence." Then turn and make my way to Penny and the computers.

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Story Masterlist

[miikishii]

To Hold the Sea | Ch. 10

main masterlist

Series masterpost | previous chapter | next chapter

synopsis: Talking to a 3rd party clears your head.

warnings: none I can think of....

Everyone notices the tiredness in your eyes when you walk into the office that morning. Unfortunately, sleepless nights have been the usual lately in a way they haven't been for a long time. The work you had to complete with Ango is finished, so now you’re alone in your office again. The windows you have let in a cold light; it’s not rainy, just cloudy. 

Someone knocks on your door, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Come in.”

Atsushi walks in cautiously, holding a few papers.

“These are for you..”

“Thank you.”

“...”

He doesn’t leave just yet.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m fine, why?”

He gives you a sideways look,

“You seem upset. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You want to tell him, but you don’t want to worry him.

“It’s just… something a little upsetting happened is all.”

A healthy medium: admitting to being in poor spirits very vaguely.

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m taking my break in a few minutes.”

“That’s really sweet, but I don’t want you to spend your break on me.”

“I don’t mind, really!”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“Positive.” He smiles.

You laugh lightly.

“I just have to look through these and I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Atsushi.” He nods and takes his leave as you begin to skim through the papers he gave you.

You’re somehow a little nervous when you meet him downstairs. He doesn't know anything about your relationship with Ango, but everyone knows where Dazai goes after work most days. That considered, it’s not surprising when Atsushi asks,

“Did you and Dazai… have a fight?”

“I mean, it wasn’t a fight, it was an argument.”

“It’s… mostly the same.” He shrugs,

“Well- anyways. But, a fight sounds too violent! He just… We said some words and then he left. 

“Said some words?”

“I said I was upset and he was mad because-” he leans in eagerly,

“He just doesn’t like Ango and he was over at my apartment last night. I told him if he didn’t want to see him he should’ve just stayed at his dorm- I mean, it’s my apartment!”

“Why does he stay with you so often?”

“‘Says he’s bored.”

He grimaces,

“Well, that is very… him, isn’t it?” You give him an aggravated nod.

“Clearly, that’s not the real reason, but I don’t expect to get it out of him, you know? I was upset about that. We’re friends. He says it himself, but it’s so hard to believe him! He doesn’t tell me anything- EVER! It’s so frustrating.” Atsushi nods along apologetically to your complaints.

“I just wish he would talk to me, genuinely. Instead, he just gets mad over things he won’t tell me about! How am I supposed to deal with that?” You try to keep your calm but some residual emotions from the night before bubble up. At first, you were just sad, but the more you think about it, the more upset you become. 

“You should talk to him about it when you can, I’m sure he’s upset about it in his own way too. Just bring it up when you’re ready.” you nod thankfully.

“Thank you, Atsushi. Sorry you spent your lunch listening to my troubles.” You frown.

“It’s no problem, really!” he laughs. He’s always been too kind for his own good. You excuse yourself back to your office and pay his tab while he’s not paying attention, it’s the least you can do. Returning to your office, you find Dazai lying on the agency couch. He’s napping with his headphones on again, his eyes a little sunken. You’re relieved to know it must’ve affected him too, but at the same time, you’re ashamed of the feeling. He opens his eyes and is met with you staring at him. You walk off as soon as you lock eyes with him, and it almost makes you laugh how awkward it was. As you fix yourself a drink in the break room, he walks in and waits quietly for you to finish. When you’re about to go home he’s sitting on the couch again. Suspicious. So, you sit down across from him and wait for everyone else to leave, fiddling with things in your bag to look busy. When everyone is gone, you make the first move,

“Did you want to talk?” he lets his head hang down subtly.

“I’m not sure.” He’s surprisingly honest.

“Come over when you’re ready to talk. I want to talk to you, Osamu.” He looks up at you, a glint of surprise in his gaze. You get up and leave him to think. It’s a proud moment for you, walking away and leaving things to sit. 

Note: ehehehehehehehehe. Anyways I'm running out of pre written chapters very quickly but the one I just wrote (Maybe three or four ahead of this one) is verrrrryyyy fun.

[dozenssporks]

*the video opens with a distant shot of Vash laying in the shade of a sand dune making a ‘snow’ angel*

Wolfwood, speaking from behind the camera: there he is, ladies and gents, the most feared outlaw in the tri-state area

Vash: only that infamous? my ratings have dropped.

Wolfwood slowly zooms in until it’s a close up of Vash’s face as he stares at the sky: you’ve been laying there for, like, an hour. Don’tcha have anything to do, you lazy bum?

Vash: I am contemplating. The life. The Universe. The everything. That cloud looks like a jelly doughnut. Now shush.

the shot slowly zooms out again and wolfwood whispers: I am bored out of my mind so I am going to do something drastic. Ready? Okay. *raising his voice* Hey, needle-noggin! What’s your opinion of America’s public transport system?

Vash, sitting bolt upright in a shower of sand: it’s The Worst! It’s patchy, incomplete, inconsistent! There are hundreds and hundreds of desolate miles where the only option is a car because nobody bothered to put a train there. Do you know what that means when you can’t drive? It means you walk! My boots have racked up more miles than a soccer mom’s SUV--

Wolfwood, whispering again: and off he goes . . .

^Vash gets up and begins to march around, waving his arms dramatically to emphasize his points or express his frustration. The camera calmly follows him back and forth. There are several cuts so Vash’s ranting jumps from point to point and country to country, a timer in the corner of the screen records how long he’s been talking, more than twenty minutes. The smooth dune becomes a a churning sea of footprints*

Vash, pointing sharply: --and that’s why England’s railway--!

Wolfwood, suppressing giggles: what about, dunno, Italy?

Vash: Italy, well, I got pick-pocketed on public transport there actually

Wolfwood: for real? someone picked the humanoid typhoon’s pocket?

Vash: yeah--oh! That reminds me, hang on!

*Vash dives forward, sliding to a stop at his destination on his knees. He pulls open his bag and rifles through the contents. Odds and ends spill out and a couple odd shirt-sleeves are trailing in the sand before he pulls out a wallet*

Vash: so um *pulls an id card out of the wallet and glances at it* Drusilla Zuccaro if you are watching this I’m sorry I took your wallet and forgot to give it back and forgot I still had it until just now. It was going to be a great bit where you thought you’d got my wallet but I’d got yours and I’d give it back and we’d laugh and you’d turn over a new leaf and never pick-pocket again. I, uh, kinda had to hoof it due to various misunderstandings and it slipped my mind. I’d offer to send it back to you but it’s been, uuhhh, five months? You’ve probably got a new id and stuff by now . . .

Wolfwood, voice shaking with suppressed laughter: there wasn’t any cash?

Vash, looking sideways: . . . it was only maybe fourteen euros and a guy on the run has gotta eat, you know

Wolfwood: vash the stampede committing petty theft? you disgust me

Vash, on his knees, hands pressed together: Scusami tanto, ti chiedo scusa dal profondo del cuore. Sono mortificato, chiedo scusa.

Wolfwood: yeah, yeah, so what are you gonna do about it?

Vash, sadly and a little sulky: Ti rimborserei ma non ho soldi

Wolfwood: Imma take a wild guess and say you’re saying you’re broke

Vash, muttering and drawing circles in the sand:  sì

Wolfwood: you’re a total deadbeat you know that, spiky?

Vash, throwing himself down into the sand, tears streaming down his face: leave me and my deadbeat feelings to die

Wolfwood: want some absolution?

Vash: keep your stupid little confession box away from me! Didn’t you hear me? I have no money! I’m already in debt!

*Vash continues to weep noisily as the camera pans over the dunes and setting sun*

Wolfwood: that was fun. next time I’m gonna ask him about, um, types of socks maybe. This is where I’d ask you to like and subscribe but y’all know we don’t work like that. Otherwise we’d be scamming you for donations and ol’ needle-noggin here would have money for bus fare. Buh-bye.

*video ends*

[megan0013]

#25 dialogue prompt with dealer’s choice for the couple?

Dialogue, #25: “Well, it is a seance.” / “Good thing the person I want to see is already here.”

Without a doubt, this year’s Halloween festival is the biggest and best yet. There's more food, more games, more rides than ever before, and it feels like every single inch of the town’s square is packed with something spooky, or sweet, or covered in papier-mâché bats.

The dozens of gnomes and trolls strolling around out in the open really add a little extra oomph to the vibe, too.

Barbara is living for it.

“We should check out Claire’s thing next,” her son suggests, bounding back over to her with with a wide grin on his face and a ridiculously huge bag of kettle corn tucked under his arm. He looks so young in this moment, so carefree and full of wonder. Like a regular seventeen-year-old should, and it warms Barbara’s heart to know he can still find joy in the world after everything he’s been through. “We can stop by Stuart’s food truck on the way.”

Beside her, Walter snorts. “How can you still be hungry after eating all those fried oreos?”

“I’m a growing boy, Strickler.” Jim flashes a cheeky smirk and tears into his bag of kettle corn. “Better get used to it.”

Walter rolls his eyes, yet somehow manages to not slap the popcorn out of the growing boy’s hands even though he really, really wants to. Instead, he grumbles something about grocery bills and the rising cost of pizza rolls and lets a thoroughly entertained Barbara drag him across the festival grounds to, first, buy Jim a few tacos before moving on to the little clearing by Town Hall where Claire has her tent set up.

“Madame Clarita?” Barbara asks, squinting at the poster board displayed above the entrance flap. “Uh, Jim? What kind of booth is Claire running?”

“Tarot cards? And palm reading,” he shrugs, “I think?”

Barbara shoots Walter a look and receives a tired, resigned sigh in response from the changeling as he gestures for her to follow Jim into the tent where, apparently, a few familiar faces have been waiting for them.

“See?” Claire says, smiling smugly at the table’s other three occupants. “I told you they’d be here.”

“Oi,” comes NotEnrique’s obnoxious little voice. He waves a dirty sock in the air. “It don’t count if lover boy texted ya first, sis.”

“He’s not wrong, Claire,” Toby agrees with a click of his tongue as Aaarrrgghh nods vigorously from where he’s sat on the ground.

The witch ignores them and gestures to the empty folding chairs across from her. “Have a seat. We’re just about ready to begin.”

“Begin?” Barbara asks as Walter pulls a chair out for her before helping her scoot in. “What are we beginning?”

“Oh, well,” Claire grins, “it’s a séance.”

Walter fails to hold in a derisive snort as he leans sideways to whisper in Barbara’s ear, “It’s a good thing the person I want to see is already here.”

“What?” She whispers back, eyes sparkling as she watches him sit down next to her. “You think it’s all just bunch of hocus pocus?”

“Yes.”

Jim elbows him in the side at the same time Madame Clarita bellows, “Quiet! It is time to confer with the spirits! Now, please, hold hands.”

For the next five minutes or so, Claire puts on quite a show while Toby snickers and Aaarrrgghh smiles encouragingly and NotEnrique adds what he claims to be is ambience by moaning and groaning like a ‘ghost’ every ten seconds. Barbara enjoys every bit of it. Even with Jim and Walter trying their best to break each other’s fingers the whole time.

And then everything goes wrong…

[fxndom-multix]

Medicine (X Pedri)

Summary

 Somewhere in the midst of his quiet breakdown, Pedri felt grateful. Grateful that Gavi cantell exactly what he needs without having to ask, grateful that they can understand eachother like no one else can, grateful that he gets to love Gavi.He tries to hold onto that feeling of gratefulness as he mentally curses the boy destroyinghim.orPedri is anxious and Gavi takes him out of his head.

Vaguely, in the back of his hazy mind, Pedri knew he was shaking. 

He knew that tremors wracked his body, running down his spine with every relentless push andprod from Gavi's fingers. He knew that he hadn't lifted his face from where it had been pressedinto the pillow, damp with spit and sweat. He knew that his vision had been blurred at the edgessince Gavi had nipped at his jaw and whispered "Don't even think about coming," as his handsnaked below his waistband. 

He knew that this familiar dance between them would silence the rattling anxiety in his chest, erasethe unresolved adrenaline from a bad match. On the field, Pedri was always in control. Everydecision, every pass, every run was timed and calculated with sharp eyes and sharper movements. He was a playmaker, he controlled the game, and when things went sideways he forced himself tobear the burden of their loss. It wasn't often, but sometimes the stress could unravel him. 

They had lost 4-1 against Real Madrid— hadn't even managed to put up a proper fight. Pedri lostcount of how many times he was beat in the middle, unable to connect the necessary passes,unable to stop the frustration from bubbling up in his chest. Robert had managed to put them onthe score sheet in the 84th minute, but it was a consolation goal more than anything. 

The locker room was as demure as expected. Nobody said a word over the shuffle of jerseys beingtaken off and the click of cleats against the linoleum. Pedri could feels the eyes of his teammatesburning into back as he changed, knew they were looking at him with concern, some with pity. 

"Pedri," He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Robert looked at him with understanding eyes. "There will be other games." 

Pedri could only nod, couldn't swallow the jumble of emotions in his throat. He knew his veteranteammate meant well but it did little to stop the sick buzz of anxiety in his chest. Ansu and Ferranoffered similar assurances, promising future hat tricks against Madrid before leaving to let the boylick his wounds in private. Slowly, the rest of the players filtered out of the locker room until only ahandful remained. Pedri pretended his hands weren't shaking as he stuffed his clothes into his bag. 

Gavi hadn't said a word since they'd left the pitch, but his eyes stayed glued to Pedri's figure.Pedri still doesn't understand how Gavi can internalize it all. When they play, Gavi is all fire andemotion, blazing across the field with unbridled drive and aggression. He wears his heart on hissleeve, always ready to dispute a foul or defend himself from players who try to mistreat himbecause of his age. But after games like these, Gavi just goes quiet. He steeps in hisdisappointment for a bit, but eventually manages to shake it off and move on. 

Pedri feels enviousof his surprising maturity sometimes, when the pit in his stomach grows heavier and heavier andevery mistake he's ever made plays on repeat in his head. 

When Gavi finally approached him he didn't say anything- didn't have to, really. Pedri could see inhis eyes exactly what he was offering. This unspoken arrangement where Gavi would force Pedriout of his head, tear him to pieces and put him back together as a way to give them both asemblance of control. He squeezes Gavi's hand in affirmation, leans over and whispers make ithurt, before pulling away and slipping out of the locker room. 

Somewhere in the midst of his quiet breakdown, Pedri felt grateful. Grateful that Gavi can tell whathe needs without having to ask, grateful that they can understand each other like no one else can,grateful that he gets to love Gavi. 

He tries to hold onto that feeling of gratefulness as he mentally curses the boy destroying him. 

"Are you gonna cry?" Gavi's voice is thick with arousal. It's said with none of the inflection of aquestion. Pedri's face burns and he shakes his head, face still buried in the pillow. Gavi's handslides from its firm grip on his shoulder to squeeze his waist. "That's not an answer, Pedri." 

He's being cruel and he knows it. Pedri can barely think straight, torn between rocking back ontothe fingers that have been working him open for the past 30 minutes and squirming away from thedelicious pain-pleasure of denial. He turns his head to the side to try and catch a glimpse of the boybehind him through bleary eyes. Gavi looms over his back like a blanket, one hand still graspinghis waist like a vice and the other fucking in and out of him, the excessive amount of lube makingan obscene squelching noise with every thrust. His legs have Pedri's pinned to the bed, tangledtogether and forcing him to take everything Gavi gives him. Pedri opens his mouth to respond,licking his kissed-raw lips.

 "I-I'm not—" He just barely gets the words out as Gavi speeds up his movements. It's a bold facedlie and he knows it, can feel how wet his eyes are. Gavi lets out a soft laugh and it sounds mean.Pedri can only let his eyes flutter shut, frustrated by how easily Gavi can get to him, embarrassedby how easily he gives it up. 

Gavi's fingers dig in tighter around his waist, as if punishing him for trying to hide, trying toescape Gavi's demanding gaze. Pedri can't stop the keen that crawls up his throat. 

Gavi just circles his fingertips lazily around Pedri's opening and watches as the older boy squirms.He slides his fingers back in, drawing stifled moans out of Pedri with every thrust. Moans that curlinto sharp cries as Gavi's fingers stab into him at that spot that sends a jolt through his body.

 "Fuck" Pedri lifts his hips, trying to fuck himself harder on Gavi's fingers, as the pressure buildslow in Pedri's stomach again for uncountable time. His hands curl into the sheets as he tries to keepstill and not lose this perfect angle they've found. 

Suddenly he's staring up at the ceiling, maneuvered onto his back by insistent hands. In thisposition he can see how Gavi's caged him into the bed, eyes dark with lust. His fingers dive back into massage into his prostate again and Pedri's mind goes fuzzy at the edges. His cock twitches inGavi's hand. The pressure is too much to contain, heat spreading out from his inside him until hisentire body feels like it's on fire and his cock aches with the need to release, to fall over that edge. 

"Not yet," 

And Gavi's fingers are gone, hand clamping tight around Pedri's cock, uncomfortable andrestricting, pulling him back from the edge again and earning a frustrated groan.

 Once it's clear Pedri isn't about to come anymore, Gavi releases his cock. His hands skim alongPedri's sides, and even those simple touches send prickles of pleasure against his skin. One handsettles against Pedri's cheek, thumb pushing past his lower lip.

 "Are you gonna beg for it?" His voice is low and Pedri hates the way his body tells on him soeasily with the chill that rolls down his spine. "Such a slut for it aren't you Pedri, can't thinkstraight without a cock inside you?" 

A part of Pedri wants to fight it, wants to tell Gavi to fuck off and let him come but his mind goesblank when Gavi's mouth is on his, tongue practically fucking his mouth with the amount of forcehe puts into the kiss. 

His other hand teases at Pedri's cock again, and fuck, he really is weak forthis boy— he is going to beg. 

His voice sounds so unlike him when his mouth is freed and he finally finds the ability to speak.

 "Gavi, please, I—" He's cut off by a sharp slap against his cheek, hard enough that it forces him tosuck in a breath.

 "That's not what you call me." And Gavi says it so casually, as if it's the most obvious thing in theworld. Pedri can feel his dignity fizzling away with every word.

"Please," His voice comes out shaky, head still rattling from the shock. "Please, sir. I need it." 

Humiliation burns in his chest. 

"Need what Pedri?" Gavi sounds bored but the gleam in his eyes betrays him. "I'm not a mindreader."

 Need you to let me come. Need you to take me apart. Need you to make me feel whole again. Theconfessions float through Pedri's head and it makes him dizzy. 

"Need you inside me," He settles on, rocking his body against Gavi's, chasing the stimulation,"Need you to fuck me, please— Sir, please." 

Gavi pushes his hips back down against the bed. "Should've figured. Pretty sluts like you onlyneed one thing don't they?" 

And he knows it's not true, has only slept with enough people to count on one hand, but Gavi'swords make his throat burn and his eyes water. "Can't even wait for me to get my cock in youbefore you start grinding on me like you're in heat," 

Pedri can only let his eyes slip shut and nod. 

"Don't have to wait much longer, sweetheart." And even the pet name leaves an ache in Pedri'schest, the degrading saccharinity of it all. "I'll give you what you need." 

Gavi dips his head down to Pedri's collarbone, lets his hand tightly grip the cusp between his neckand shoulder until Pedri is sure there will be finger-shaped bruises in the morning. He shivers at thesensation of Gavi sucking and nipping at his skin, leaving marks that will just be barely concealedby his training kit. 

Once Gavi is satisfied with the dark red patch of skin, he grazes his teeth lower, scattering marksacross his chest. The sting makes Pedri hiss through his teeth, pain blossoming against his skinbefore Gavi licks at them possessively. Tomorrow, when he pulls himself out of bed, Pedri willclose the bathroom door with a quiet click. He'll lean in close to the mirror and trace his fingersover the angry marks, tinged purple at the edges. He'll press into them and let his eyes slip shut,and remember how Gavi made it clear who he belonged to. 

Satisfied with the constellation of hickeys left behind, Gavi pulls away. The room is dimly lit, butthe sheen of saliva still glimmers against Pedri's skin.

 "Ready for it, slut?" There's no malice behind the word— it's practically said with endearment andyet it hurts exactly how Pedri wants it to. He doesn't offer a response, knows that Gavi isn'tlooking for one. The younger rubs the head of his cock against Pedri's entrance, and the lewd slideagainst the lube echoes in the room. It makes Pedri bite his lip, makes him dizzy with how muchhe likes it, makes the humiliation seethe inside of him. 

Gavi sinks in hard and fast. Pedri keens a little. The stretch doesn't hurt, Gavi's torturous pace withhis fingers made sure of that, but a different, duller pain courses through him. A hurt that lives inhis throat, throbbing with every deliciously cruel word, reminding him of how he's owned. 

Gavi doesn't pause as he impales him, doesn't offer him the courtesy. Pedri lets himself drown inthe feeling, goes limp against the bed and lets Gavi fill the metaphorical pit in his stomach. 

"That's it, that's it," Gavi coaxes in that same airy tone. "You can take it." His hand tighten aroundPedri's middle and he rolls his hips back and drives them forward again until his hips are flushagainst Pedri's ass. 

"Just stay still and fucking take it." 

Gavi fucks back inside, grappling with Pedri's waist to pull him back harder, and Pedri makes thisbroken sound— raw, hoarse, something akin to Gavi's name. 

Deep thrust after deep thrust knocks the breath out of the older boy. When Gavi finds a particularlysweet angle Pedri can't stop the moans that spill out of his mouth. He can already feel the familiarcurl of an approaching orgasm. 

Pedri is already so overwhelmed, can't even string together a proper sentence and it doesn't escapeGavi's notice, like nothing ever seems to.

 "What's the matter?" Gavi doesn't even try to disguise it anymore, just lets the meanness creepinto his voice. "Fuck you so good you can't even speak?" His thrusts are quick and sharp, andPedri chokes on another noise when Gavi's grips his jaw tight. 

He keeps fucking Pedri at the same angle, hitting his prostate with every punctuated thrust untilPedri feels himself teetering over the edge. 

Pedri might be getting louder, he can't really tell. He's too absorbed in the quick, breathy noisesescaping from Gavi's lips, in the way that his fingers twitch against the curve of his jaw. He findsreprieve in the fact that Gavi is just as affected as he is. 

Without thinking, Pedri reaches down to wrap a hand around his cock. 

"Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?" Gavi spits, and it makes Pedri's head spin. He lickshis dry lips to try and speak for the first time since Gavi claimed the space between his thighs. 

"Fuck, Sir- please, I need-" 

Gavi pushes down hard on Pedri's lower stomach, cutting him off. He can feel the movement ofhis own cock as it moves in and out. "I told you to fucking take it." Pedri can't bite back hiswounded noise and let's go, overwhelmed by the sensation. Gavi keeps the harsh pace, and itmakes Pedri twist his body on the bedsheets, burying the side of his face in the pillow. He bites it,needs something to take the pressure off. 

"Stop that." Gavi hoists Pedri up by his torso, has him practically in his lap as he continues fuckinginto him. "Let me hear those pretty sounds you make." Pedri shivers, the new position forcingGavi's cock deeper inside. 

"Who do you belong to, Pedri?" He keens, lolling his head forward onto Gavi's shoulder, but Gavijust laces his fingers through his damp hair and yanks until Pedri is staring back into thosedemanding eyes. "Who's pretty slut are you?"

"Yours," he gasps, dry-throated and raw. Gavi just kisses him, drinking Pedri in like he's dying ofthirst. 

Gavi slams in again, and Pedri's eyes roll back, all of his whimpers swallowed by Gavi's mouth onhis. Gavi fucks him harder, a newfound urgency thrumming in his veins. They both losethemselves in it, exchanging moans and messy kisses. Gavi attaches his mouth to the bite onPedri's collarbone, swiping his tongue over the salt.

 "God, Pedri," Gavi groans, "You feel so good, being so good for me." Pedri moans brokenly,dizzy from the praise and cruelty and lack of air in his lungs. He still struggles with giving upcontrol, but trapped between a firm, unrelenting body and the creaking bed below him, he lets Gavitake what he wants from him. Even if he fights it at first, he always gives in, let's Gavi bite himand hurt him and fill him up so perfectly. 

Gavi's hands roam over his torso, dancing over the bruises and marks sucked into Pedri's skin.Pedri inhales at the slight pain, leaving crescent indents in Gavi's back as he struggles to keep hishands away from his cock. He just wants to be good, wants to hear Gavi whisper his vicious praiseinto his ear.

 "Touch yourself for me, sweetheart," Gavi lips are wet against Pedri's neck, and Pedri could sob inrelief as he wraps his hand around his aching cock after what feels like hours of denial. He tightensaround Gavi, who moans and digs his fingers harder into the marks littered across Pedri's chest. 

"Sir, I'm gonna come," he pleads. His entire body feels like a live wire, trembling from theanticipation of a repeatedly denied orgasm. 

"Then do it, come on my cock," Gavi urges him, picking up the pace even more, pushing Pedri tothe edge even faster. It hits him like a tidal wave, strong and sudden, and he gasps Gavi's name ashe cums. Gavi fucks him through it, not bothering to slow down. Pedri realizes what he's doingjust a second too late. His noises rise in pitch, his hands scramble, scratching Gavi's back as hecontinues pounding into him. 

"Wait, I-I can't— too much," Pedri struggles, his chest heaving. 

"I thought you wanted me to make it hurt," Gavi lilts. He pushes Pedri back until his torso hits thebedsheets and thrusts even deeper. The meanness is back in full force, and it's a special kind ofwhiplash. Pedri cries out, his face red and twisted in an expression of desperation, and a wolfishsmile that spreads across Gavi's face. Pedri's eyebrows furrow, his nose twitching ever-so-slightly,and Gavi knows exactly what thread he's going to pull on again.

 "Aww, Pedri, are you gonna cry for me?" Gavi purrs, just to throw salt in the wound. It's viciouslyeffective. Pedri's face flushes even further, shaking his head violently even as he starts to hiccup.He's almost there, Gavi can tell. Gavi slams into him harder, and in a moment of inspired cruelty,digs his thumbs harshly into the dark bruises on Pedri's hipbone. A scream rips from Pedri's throat,and a thrill rushes through Gavi as he sees tears begin to wet Pedri's cheeks. 

"Please, fuck, I can't— Gavi, fuck-" Pedri pants in between hiccups, his head thrashing from sideto side against the pillow. 

"So pretty like this," Gavi coos, his mockingly sweet tone completely at odds with the harshness ofhis thrusts. Pedri looks entirely ruined below him, tears welling in his eyes, sweat pooling in thecrevices between his neck and collarbones. Gavi just has to twist the knife again. 

"So fucking good, Pedri," and he watches with sick satisfaction as Pedri's sobs rise in pitch. "Sofucking perfect. Gonna cum, fuck, gonna fill your pretty little hole up." 

"Please," Pedri's voice cracks, "please." There's nothing else he can say, his nerves fried and hismind blissfully empty. Gavi looks down at Pedri, teary-eyed and cheeks red, and it's more than hecan take. The hot tension in his gut snaps, and he spills into Pedri, the world dissolving awayexcept for the waves of pleasure washing over him and the trembling body underneath him. 

Gavi comes down from it slowly, panting. Pedri's shaking all over, whimpering with each breath,tears steadily making their way down his cheeks. Gavi presses their foreheads together, cuppingthe side of Pedri's face in his hand.

 "Gonna pull out, okay?" Gavi speaks lowly, gently rubbing his thumb over Pedri's cheekbone as hemoves. 

"No," Pedri words meld together, he can barely make his mouth work. "Don't leave."

 "I'm not gonna leave," Gavi reassures him, watching the exhaustion flicker in Pedri's eyes. "I'mnot going anywhere." He presses soft kisses to Pedri's jaw and lets his body weight pin Pedri to thebed like a blanket. Slowly Pedri's whines fade into soft breaths, but his eyes stay glassy and far-away. Gavi is familiar with this part of their dance too, when Pedri goes all soft and pliant andthere's nothing in his head but Gavi. He knows that Pedri needs something to keep him groundedwhile his mind drifts through the haze of post-sex endorphins.

 For as much as Pedri needs to give up control every once in a while, Gavi can't deny he needs ittoo. The bone-deep satisfaction has dulled all of his own disappointments about the match. Splayedacross the bed, with Pedri cradled in his arms, he feels at ease. 

The minutes tick by as they lay tangled together, basking in the warm silence. Gavi rests a gentlehand on the back of Pedri's neck and caresses the spot just below his ear, content to let Pedri floatfor a while. Eventually he'll detangle their limbs and get a warm washcloth to clean them up.Eventually he'll bring Pedri a new pair of boxers and one of his hoodies to wear to bed and he'llwhisper soft assurances in his ear as they drift off. Eventually they'll wake up feeling whole again,heads clear and steady. But for now he's just continues petting and watching as Pedri's eyesgradually get less unfocused. 

"Are you back with me yet." Gavi murmurs. Pedri just exhales and tucks his head into the crook ofGavi's neck, settling into the warmth there. And laying there, silently enveloped in each other'sarms, they were going to be alright.