#so I say that to him and he’s like okay that’s fine don’t put as much speed

[luveline]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

You try to break up with your boyfriend. Aaron just wants to know why. (And what he can do to fix it.) [4k]

c: fem, stripper!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff epilogue, suggestive themes mdni. requested here 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

I don’t want to see you anymore. 

The text doesn’t compute at first. He reads it twice. Reads the sender’s name, his heart stopped clean in his chest. 

He puts down his pen.

The idea that the text wasn’t meant for him crosses his mind, but that might further break his heart. He knows you have clients, but you don’t contact them outside of the club. 

His second thought is that he’d been a client unknowingly, but he made it clear to you those few months ago that he liked you as you, not as a service provider, and not as something to be bought. You thought he was trying to acquire you as a private escort. He explained it as what it was truthfully, if vulnerably.

He’s being broken up with, he surmises. Over text. By a woman he adores, who he’d thought was happy. Aaron opens his phone to call you, clicking your contact, bringing it to his ear. You don’t answer. He calls again and he’s clearly declined three rings in. 

He puts his phone down and has a few minutes of unbreathable heartbreak. Just a few minutes, his hand to his stomach, trying to think of things as reasonably as he can. 

Aaron doesn’t care that you’re a stripper. He might’ve at first. Denied his attraction to you, because of course he had feelings for you when you were standing against the side of the club in your dancing lingerie, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Every fool lucky enough to see you undressed must assume the same thing. He thought it wouldn’t work, and that you’d never be interested in a man like him. 

Interviews for information lended themselves to rare moments of conversation. He liked how you talked, how your eyes moved to his, the way you watched his mouth. Your unusual friendship with Spencer drew you closer, and activated a rare seed of jealousy within him that helped him place you in his life. He had real, tangible feelings for you. 

And now it’s over. 

He scrunches his eyes closed and gets up from his desk. Puts his coat on, but leaves his things where they are on his desk. 

“Hotch?” Morgan asks as he descends the steps down from his office into the bullpen. 

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 

“What happened?” 

Aaron turns to Morgan, hiding his panic as well as he’s able to. “I have a small emergency. It’s fine. Can you make sure things are okay here?” 

“Hotch?” Morgan asks again. 

Aaron keeps on going. He tries your number again on the way down. Three times, a fourth by the time he’s at the parking garage. 

The fifth time, you answer. 

He almost breaks the phone, its plastic body creaking in his hand. “Honey?” he asks. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Aaron. Is it hard to understand?” 

He’s taken aback. Some part of him had held onto the hope that it was a mistake. “Yes,” he says slowly, struggling to pull his keys out as his car comes into view, “it is.” 

“I don’t want to be with you.” 

“Have I upset you?” 

“Would that make it easier?” 

“No. I don’t think anything would make it any easier. Honey, this feels so sudden. Can’t we talk about it?” 

“I don’t want to see you.” 

“Please.” He can’t imagine never seeing you again. Just a few days ago he was sitting at the dinner table with you laughing opposite, your socked toes brushing his ankle. “Please, give me the chance to fix this.” 

“Aaron, it’s not really fixable. Please don’t call me again.”

“Y/N,” he says, firmer now. Anger leaks into his tone —what’s going on? “Let me come over. We need to talk about this.” 

“No–”

“It’s not fair to me for you to do it over the phone.” 

“…Okay. Fine. I’m at home, but I have work at six.” 

“I’m on my way.” 

He hangs up. Your terse allowance is all he needs to get in the car and drive, checking his watch. There’s plenty of time between now and six. He can figure out what’s wrong and hopefully change your mind.

He thinks about it more seriously as he’s parking outside of your place. Perhaps he doesn’t want to change your mind. You aren’t acting like you, none of your kindness can be found in such a swift dismissal, but he thinks of your foot under the table, your sock rubbing along his ankle without comment. 

He takes the stairs to your apartment. It’s not the nicest place to stay, but it’s far from a slum, either. He doesn’t worry about you when you’re home beyond the usual everyday fears: Is she eating? Sleeping? Having a good day? 

Now he’s thinking, What did I do? 

He gets to your apartment and pauses at the threshold. After a moment's deliberation, he knocks. 

“Come in, Aaron.” 

He pulls down the handle and lets himself in. You’ve mail piled on the sideboard and your shoes tucked under it, a coat rack further in bragging scarves and coats and jackets of all different colours. He’s always liked the interior of your apartment. It doesn’t feel as cold as his own, parts of your personality peeking in through everything, from the flowered tiles in the bathroom to the glass lampshade in the bedroom. 

You’re sitting in the kitchen with the light off. “Hey,” he says, voice already laden with relief he doesn’t mean to share. 

“Hi.” 

“Can I sit down?” 

You gesture for him to do as he likes. 

Aaron sits down at your table. It’s a small square just big enough to share dinner, plain wood edged in a darker slate grey outline. Sometimes when you’re feeling especially pretty, you’ll lean heavily on an elbow and grin at him, enticing him in for a kiss.

“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly. 

“I just think we’re… at the end of our relationship.” 

You don’t sound truthful. He knew there was something strange in your voice over the phone. 

“What’s making you feel that way?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Again, avoiding and evasive. 

He meets your gaze unflinchingly. “I care about you. I love you,” he says. “I know I can’t be who you pictured for yourself, and if you really can’t see a future for us, then… I’ll have seen it alone. I just wish I could understand this sudden change. Did I do something wrong?” 

“You’re not who I picture for myself,” you agree. 

“No?” he asks. 

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I can’t see us together. We’re not the right fit.” 

You twist a ring around your middle finger. He thinks he’s starting to understand. “Do you think we’re not the right fit?” 

“Please don’t use your psychoanalysis on me.” 

“It’s not psychoanalysis, sweetheart, it’s– I know you.” He grimaces. “I’d like to think I do. And I’m allowing myself the audacity to believe you were happy with me just a few days ago. What happened between then and now to change your mind?” 

You stare at your two-toned table. Your mouth opens to talk, little but air making it out. Your shoulders begin tightening like you’ve been keyed between them, twisting and twisting. 

“What do you want me to say?” you ask. 

Dramatic, he’d hope you could say you don’t love him, or don’t care about him enough to let him convince you the rest of the way. “Is this really what you want?” he asks instead. 

Your staring turns to squinting. With a start, he watches a small tear drip from the corner of your eye to your nostril, to your cupid's bow. 

“No,” you say carefully, “it’s not what I want. I don’t like you being against me.” 

“Then what’s making you feel this way?” 

You cover your eyes with one hand. “I wanted to do this over the phone,” you say in a squeeze. 

He reaches for you but doesn’t touch. “I couldn’t let you.” 

“I just want you to be happy,” you say, so high he can barely understand you. “I’ll never be like you, Aaron. You’re so smart, and you’ve done so much. You’re a hero, and you must look so stupid with me. What do you think people say when they realise what I am?” 

“It doesn’t matter to me what they say. I know you, and they don’t.”

“What about what I think?” 

“What do you think?” 

You wipe your face roughly, eyes lit with an anger he’s unprepared for. “I told you, don’t psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to have to explain it, I just want to say what I have to say. I don’t want to be with you because you won’t be happy, and neither will I.” 

Aaron isn’t too prideful to recognise when he needs to fight for what he wants. He reaches over the table and takes your arm into his hand, picking it up, feeling down The length of it until he’s curled his hand over your smaller fingers. “We are happy,” he says softly, giving your hand a small shake. “I understand where you’re coming from. When we first met, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be here with you now. I do wonder what people think when they ask me what you do and I tell them you’re a performer. I know we agreed to it, but there are moments where I feel like I’m being cruel to you. But just because there’s a stigma surrounding what you do, it doesn’t mean that you’re any lesser than me. You’re not less intelligent, or less accomplished. We chose different paths and I’m glad we did. If you weren’t a dancer I never would’ve met you.” 

“Do you know how it feels for me to come home to you sometimes?” you ask weakly. 

“I’d hope it feels as it does for me. Every time I see you, I’m relieved.” 

“Aaron, I get this rush of safety, like you’re– I’m finally safe. I can take care of myself, you know that, but now I have you it’s that I don’t even want to. And that’s stupid. I know that that’s stupid.” 

“What I’m thinking,” he says, soft, not as worried about being without you now as he is of the horrible way you’re feeling, “is that you’ve thought about all of this a lot. I’m glad you’ve taken time to reflect on us and your life, but I wish you’d thought more about what we both want.” 

“I want you to be happy,” you argue, as you had a few moments ago. 

“And I’m never happier than when we’re together.” He shrugs. “Love isn’t about work. Your job shapes you as mine shapes me, but you have to know that who you are is what’s important.” 

“I don’t know who I am…” 

“I know exactly who you are,” he says, rubbing a loving thumb over your knuckles. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, on the phone. I knew if I talked to you like this I’d be too much of a coward to really see it through.” 

“I see. You’ve planned my heartbreak weeks in advance.” 

You shake your head sadly. “Aaron, we’re not good for each other. You make me this awful, weak version of me, and I’m no good.” 

“We have been nothing but happy since we met.” Aaron pulls your hand up and kisses the side of your wrist. He isn’t ashamed of you. He doesn’t make you weak, you aren’t. “I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it feels like we’re from different worlds, but it’s not that melodramatic. You’re my partner. I love you. It’s hard not to think about what others think of us, but I know exactly what I think of you, and I know what you think of me, too.” 

You share a look. 

“I’ve never heard you talk so much,” you say, your frown fading. “I’m sorry.” 

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“When I thought I couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” you mumble. 

“You aren’t embarrassing. Please, put the thought out of your head.” 

“Thought out of my head,” you repeat, still mumbling as you flex your fingers, pushing them between his and intertwining your hands. You bring them linked to your forehead and take a heavy breath. 

“Do you really want to break up?” he asks softly. 

Your breath warms his arm. “No.” 

“You can have the things you want, you know? I imagine that there are people who laugh when I tell them about you, but you have to know that their opinions would never matter to me.” He pulls his hand from your head to encourage you to meet his eyes. “No one else matters but me and you. We don’t have to factor in other people. We can just be together.” 

“I’m not worth all the fuss,” you say under your breath. 

“What, this fuss? Honey, a few weeks ago you cried in my lap because I got you that cake from the bakery. And you know what? I didn’t want you to cry, but getting to rub your back?” He chances a smile. “That made my night.” 

“You like making girls cry.” 

“Yes,” he says, trying not to grin like a fool as you stand from your chair and put yourself in front of him. He is no saint. He pulls you onto his thighs and wraps an arm around the small of your back, your legs either side of him. “That’s my goal in life, sweetheart.” His voice falls to a whisper as you hang your head against him, tip of your nose to a rough cheek. “Making you cry…” 

Your arms creep to his neck. Resting on him, rather than hugging. He doesn’t mind, he’ll do the hard work. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“It’s okay.” He turns your face with his to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s alright, honey, bumps in the road happen with everyone.” 

“All my fault.” 

“Maybe next time, if you feel so strongly about something, you can just extend me that little bit of faith and… know that I’m here for you. Even if it did mean we wouldn’t be together, it doesn’t have to be that you’re alone, making such a big decision. Valiant,” he adds, enjoying the warmth of you seeping into his shirt, his face, his neck where your wrist is laid against it. “You’re not a coward. But I wish you wouldn’t be this brave about breaking my heart.” 

“Stop making me feel guilty.” 

His laugh is a breath against your cheek. “No, it’s fine, isn’t it? Use me and abuse me.” 

“Shut up. Stop, what is this weird guilt tripping you’re doing?” You laugh at his absurdity. “I’d never abuse you.” 

“I know. Just step on me a bit.” 

“Stop, stop,” you mumble, your voice turning slowly from self-pitying to honey, all that love for him he knew you still had like threads of gold shooting through it, “I don’t wanna step on you, I never would…” 

“Just rough me up a little.” 

“Never.” You press your face to his neck. “Thank you for not letting me do it.” 

“I won’t let you go so easily.” His hand trails up your back, feeling the softness of you beneath your t-shirt. Fat, muscle, all of it familiar, and treasured by his touching. 

He squeezes you rather tightly, then, but you don’t complain, you just sigh. 

“It’s not that you’re not who I picture for myself, like I said before,” you confess, leaning all your weight against him, barely held up by your legs either side of him. “You weren’t, but I didn’t realise that I could have you. I didn’t really know men like you existed. I should’ve known I was looking in the wrong age bracket.” 

“That’s not very nice. In my line of work they call that a feedback sandwich, honey. Something cruel between nice things to distract me.” 

“Sorry. Just had to get it in.” 

He considers your teasing a return to normalcy, guiding your head away from his with a hand to the back of your neck. “If this was a ploy to make me leave work early, consider it successful.” 

“I know your attention usually falls to other places, Mr. Hotchner–” You burst into giggles as he pinches the back of your neck, but it’s only to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your parted lips as your laughter fades away.

You scrunch his shirt in your hand and kiss him nicely. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“Forgiven.” Even if he did almost go into cardiac arrest at his desk. “I like begging to stay. It builds character.” 

“How long will you be like this?” you ask, shaking your head slowly, your smile poorly hidden. 

You’d needed a reminder, is all. Aaron isn’t solely business and sternness, he’s an idiot, your idiot, who likes to tease you, and doesn’t care who knows that. When he’s working he’s one person, and when he’s with you, he’s another. Both have their qualities and faults, but only one version is the one he needs to be with you. 

“At my age it’s perfectly normal to have a young and beautiful wife,” he says. “You’ve seen some of the other Section’s worker’s wives.” 

“I’m not that young,” you say. 

“So you admit it?” 

You reward him with a tired sigh, cuddling into his collar. 

—

…I'll never be your beast of burden. So let's go home and draw the curtains…

Aaron’s humming from the bedroom. He knows every classic rock song to exist, every word to every Beatles song. When the chorus comes, he sings under his breath, but you can hear him regardless. “Am I rough enough, am I rich enough? I’m not too blind…” he fades off. 

The music hums under your feet. Record player open on the floor, his Some Girls vinyl on the plate. 

You press a hand down your side. 

To inspire less worry on your part, you and Aaron are trying to be more open about the other sides of your lives. His work feels alien to you, and you worry that yours is dirty to him, despite reassurance that a job is a job. You know that already, but you can’t make yourself believe that he’s as happy as he could be if you were, say, a checkout girl. 

You’d make a cute checkout girl, he’d said. 

This is cute, too. Babydoll lingerie with feather edgings, starkly white against your skin. You fluff out the ends and neaten the crotch of your panties. Nothing is on show that shouldn’t be, but it’s still lingerie. It’s meant to excite. 

“Honey,” he says, dulcet tone carrying to the bathroom, “are you stuck again?” 

You laugh. “I bet you hope so.” 

“That’s accusatory in nature.” 

“I’m coming.” You give it a last glance in the mirror and head into the bedroom. 

Aaron’s sat against your headboard, flowery pillowcases behind his head and back. He discards the little figurine he’d been playing with out of boredom and looks you up and down, corners of his lips curling. 

“Home only,” he says. 

“I knew you’d say that.” 

“You look stunning.” His eyes seem darker. All pupil. 

“I have to wear some of these at the club, Aaron, that’s why I bought them.” 

Something in your voice makes him smile. “You said I could veto the ones that are too beautiful.” 

“I said too slutty.” 

“Honey, they’re all revealing in their ways. And I don’t have a problem with it…” He takes a breath. “Much. But some of these are meant for…” 

“The man who loves me?”

“Exactly.” 

He’d said something similar about the light blue set with darker flowers, the black set that showed the curves of your chest, and especially about the pink one-piece with white ribbons. That one gave him pause. 

“Spin?” he asks. 

One day it might bother Aaron that you dance, but for now he’s gently approving. Just wants you to be happy. So you do a little spin without any attempt to be sexy and beam when he whistles. 

“Beautiful. Really, honey, that’s the nicest so far.” 

“I have a confession.” 

“Yeah?” 

“This one was for you.” 

He’d know if you were lying. “For me?” he says, in that tone bordering stern, as much of his professionalism as you’re used to hearing these days. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Don’t,” he says, seductions gone as he tips his head back into a pillow patterned with lavender and peony. “Unless you’re done trying those on, I don’t want to hear it.” 

“This is the last one.” 

“In that case.” He covers his face with a cushion. 

You look down. Your stomach is a little bloated from lunch, and you have a shaving rash on your left knee, but Aaron won’t mind. He never does. Without worry, you tread to the side of the bed and climb onto it, one leg over his lap. The last time you’d been sitting in his lap, you’d been teary-eyed and regretful. Fuck, what was I thinking? you ask yourself, slipping a hand under his rising shirt to feel his abdomen. It’ll never not be weird, the FBI man and his stripper girlfriend, but it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him and you. 

You ease the pillow down his face. 

“Are you blushing, Aaron?” you ask. 

“Not purposefully.” 

“You look a little… hot.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

It starts slowly. The heat of you atop him, the pillows moved out of the way. You didn’t expect him to stay unbothered as you paraded your new spoils, but his willpower is remarkable, and he only breaks when you let yourself settle on his lap. His big hand cups your face. 

“That’s funny.” You lift up enough to be in kissing range, but don’t kiss. You just wait for him to react, holding your weight off of his chest. 

He finds the small of your back and drags. Your gasp isn’t your own, a breathy, excited thing as he brings your face to his for a kiss. Your lips almost immediately part in anticipation of his eagerness, of his hand on the back of your neck, and the unflinching heat of his mouth as he turns his head. Your noses brush. He wades in deeper, his own breath already failing him as the bridges of your nose press hard. 

They aren’t rough kisses, but there’s something desperate there. He holds you to him until he can’t, ushering you onto your back, his weight bearing down sudden and steady. 

“I can’t believe I nearly lost you,” he utters, stroking your cheek, edging back in to kiss you before you can reply. 

You wrap an arm behind his back and hike your leg, soft thigh naked and waiting for his touch. You didn’t nearly lose me, you think. To be lost, you’d have to be something worth losing, and you’re not sure you are, but Aaron? 

“I don’t think you could,” you mumble, forcing him to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the line of your throat. He nips at your neck, a shudder racing through you. 

“I have no intent of letting it come that close again, sweetheart.” 

His hand dances up your side to the soft hill of your chest. 

You hold the hair from his face and let him kiss you. He’s here to stay, no matter how odd a pairing you might make. You love him. That’s all he cares about. 

“Want me to do that thing you like?” you offer softly, mildly playful. 

He laughs into your neck. “No,” he says, “I think tonight is about you, hm? You’re all dressed up. I think that deserves a reward.” 

You knew he’d like the white babydoll. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[jungwnies]

INVITING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO YOUR FAMILY THANKSGIVING

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : genre : fluff ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 1862

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this one is for all my US babies who are celebrating thanksgiving today!!

ʚ・max verstappen

it was a week before thanksgiving and you got in your bed to see an already tired max laying down, as you get underneath the covers you lay against him and look at him, "baby."

he gives you a hum and look sat you, "yes?"

"i know you guys don't celebrate this holiday, but i really want you to come to the family dinner on thanksgiving, and i know you have practice on the 29th, so i could ask them to move the dinner a little early so you can come." you tell him, softly.

"you know i've never celebrated thanksgiving before?" he laughs before turning a bit to see your face, "if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. just don’t let me mess up your traditions, okay."

you laugh, "all it consists of is a turkey and some yams, but i mainly want you to come because my family will be there, and you know how much they love you."

“so, is this where you make me eat turkey until i can’t move? or are we going to do one of those cheesy gratitude speeches?” max teases, putting a smile on your face.

you shake your head, laughing softly. "maybe a little of both. but mostly, i just want you there with me."

max's teasing grin softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "then i’m there. but i’m warning you now, if your uncle challenges me to some weird american football game, i’m going all in."

"oh, he will," you reply with a smirk, snuggling closer to him. "but i think you’ll be just fine. my mom already says you’re part of the family."

he wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. "good. because i don’t plan on going anywhere."

with that, you drift off to sleep in his arms, excitement bubbling in your chest for the holiday—and for having max by your side.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you stand by the kitchen counter, watching lewis chop vegetables with surprising focus. “babe,” you say softly, leaning against the counter.

he glances up with a warm smile. “what’s up, love?”

you hesitate, toying with the edge of your sweater. “i was thinking... thanksgiving is next week, and it’s really important to me. i’d love for you to come to dinner with my family.”

he sets the knife down, giving you his full attention. “thanksgiving, huh? i’ve never done one of those before. what’s it like?”

“it’s mostly just food," you begin, thinking off all the components of a thanksgiving dinner, "turkey, stuffing, pie... oh, and my family asking you too many questions,” you laugh nervously. “but it’d mean a lot if you came. i know you’re busy, though, so no pressure.”

lewis steps closer, resting his hands lightly on your waist. “if it’s important to you, i’ll make time. i’d love to be with your family and see what this whole thanksgiving thing is about.”

you smile, relief washing over you. “really? even if it means answering endless questions about racing?”

he laughs, pulling you into a hug. “as long as they have some good food, i think i’ll survive.”

you snuggle into his chest, grinning. “trust me, my grandma’s sweet potato pie will make it worth it.”

he kisses the top of your head. “then i’m sold. just promise you’ll stick by me if someone starts grilling me about my cars.”

“deal, but i can't stop my dad from scolding you for speeding in your mercedes” you say, your heart full as you imagine lewis sitting at the dinner table, effortlessly charming your family.

ʚ・carlos sainz

you find carlos sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while lazily petting your dog, a sight that makes your heart squeeze. you sit down next to him, tucking your legs under you.

"carlos," you say softly, nudging him with your knee.

he looks up with a small smile, his brown eyes warm. "qué pasa, cariño?" (what’s up, love?)

"so... thanksgiving is next week," you start, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "and i was wondering if you’d come to dinner with my family."

he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a grin. "thanksgiving? the one with the turkey and... what do you call it? the cranberry... jelly?"

you laugh, shaking your head. "yeah, that one. but it’s not just about the food. it’s more like... being with family and saying what you’re thankful for. i know it’s not a spanish thing, but it’d mean a lot if you came."

he sets his phone down, fully turning to you. "sabes que soy terrible con estas cosas sentimentales, ¿verdad?" (you know i’m terrible at these sentimental things, right?) "i’ll probably say something dumb like ‘i’m thankful for ferrari.’"

"my dad would probably high-five you for that," you tease, leaning closer.

he chuckles, his hand sliding to your knee. "si tu padre está de acuerdo, ¿cómo puedo decir que no?" (if your dad’s on board, how can i say no?) "but only if you promise to save me from saying something embarrassing."

"deal," you say with a grin. "but you should know... my mom is going to love you. she’s been asking about you non-stop."

"ay dios," (oh god) he groans, leaning back dramatically. "what do i even say to impress an american family."

"just be yourself," you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. "trust me, you’ll charm her in five seconds flat."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, a playful smile on his lips. "fine, but only if i bring some jamón ibérico, your family has to try real food."

you laugh, already picturing him at the table.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you find charles lounging on the couch, leo curled up at his feet. you sit beside him, nudging him gently.

"love," you say, a little shy.

he looks up with a smile. “quoi, mon amour?” (what, my love?)

you bite your lip, feeling nervous. "so... thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not a thing in monaco, but i was wondering... would you come to dinner with my family? they’d really love to have you."

charles tilts his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “thanksgiving? with the turkey and... pumpkin pie?” he laughs softly, his accent making the words sound so sweet.

you nod. "yeah, that’s the one. it’s all about family, and it’d mean a lot to me if you came."

he sets his phone down, his smile softening. “mon amour, if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. i wouldn't miss it.” his voice is warm, sincere.

you grin, leaning in a little closer. "you sure you’re ready for my family’s chaos?"

he laughs, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “i think i can survive turkey... and maybe even your mom’s pumpkin pie." he pauses, his smile turning a bit mischievous. “but don’t be surprised if i say something cheesy in front of your family, like... ‘i’m thankful for the beautiful woman beside me.’”

your heart skips, and you chuckle. "oh, charles, you're going to melt my mom’s heart."

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "as long as i don’t have to speak perfect english, i’m good," he teases, making your heart swell.

you smile up at him. “you’ll charm them with that accent, i’m sure.”

“maybe i’ll speak more french just to make it worse for you,” he laughs, his hand gently squeezing yours.

you lean against him, feeling warm and happy. “they’re going to love you, charles.”

“as long as i get to be with you, mon amour,” he whispers, pulling you close.

ʚ・lando norris

you catch up with lando in the paddock, after a long day of practice. the energy is buzzing around you, and you decide to ask him something you've been thinking about all day.

"hey, babe," you say, trying to sound casual.

he glances at you with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’re about to ask me for a big favor.”

you take a breath, then ask, "so, thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not really your thing... but would you maybe want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d mean a lot to me."

lando raises an eyebrow. “thanksgiving? where you eat a ton of food and pretend you’re thankful for it? sounds like a lot of work.” he laughs, teasing. “you sure you want me there?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “it’s more than just food. it’s about family. i’d really love for you to be there.”

he looks at you for a moment, then smirks. “well, as long as there’s no awkward speech about what i’m thankful for, i’m in.”

“no speeches, i promise," you say, nudging him. "just food and a bit of small talk, and family games"

"perfect," he says, grinning. “i’m really looking forward to explaining how fast i go, and how many awkward questions i’ll get.”

“they’ll love you,” you assure him.

“as long as i’m not talking about racing the whole time,” he says with a wink. “deal?”

you smile, relieved. “deal.”

"good," he replies. "just don’t expect me to wear anything fancy. i’m more of a jeans and hoodie kind of guy.”

"that's fine, i prefer seeing you in something casual anyways." you tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

ʚ・oscar piastri

you find oscar lounging on your couch, casually scrolling through his phone. you sit next to him, feeling a bit nervous but determined.

"hey, oscar," you say, breaking the silence.

he looks up with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you take a breath and ask, “so, thanksgiving’s coming up, and i know it’s not really your thing, but... would you want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d really mean a lot to me.”

oscar raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “thanksgiving? so i get to eat a ridiculous amount of food, pretend i’m thankful for it, and survive your family’s questions? sounds like a good time.”

you chuckle. “yeah, that’s about the gist of it. but honestly, i really want you there. my family’s gonna love you.”

he leans back, pretending to think for a second. “alright, alright, i’m in. but only because you’re asking so sweetly. just don’t expect me to behave too much. and, for the record, i’ll definitely be expecting enough food to make up for all the small talk.”

you laugh. “no complaints about the food, i promise. but if you start making jokes about the turkey, i’ll disown you.”

“mate, making jokes about turkey is basically my job,” he grins. “but alright, i’ll be good. as long as i don’t have to wear a suit or anything fancy.”

“you’re safe,” you reassure him. “just dress nice enough to not scare anyone off.”

he leans in closer with a wink. “deal. let’s see if i can survive a night of turkey and awkward family banter without causing too much chaos.” he smirks. “should be fun.”

you smile, feeling a wave of warmth. “i’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[obxsummer]

i still need you // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: late night conversations turn ugly, jj sets off on an adventure with his dad, and an SOS text leads to a life stopping moment for john b.

warnings: nothing you haven’t seen in obx before

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

--

JJ Maybank loved you. 

If everything else in the world was suddenly a lie, that statement would remain true. JJ Maybank loved you so much, he swore it was the only thing he was good at. 

He never realized how valuable it was to have someone so in tune with his every motion, his every thought and reaction. You were always there no matter what was going on, and you always knew how to handle it.

He was trying. He was trying really hard to give you that same effort, that same love and attention you gave him every time, but he had to admit that he was struggling. What was supposed to be a simple trip to the bathroom was slowly turning into the worst conversation of his life, and as he watched your walls crash in front of him, he didn’t know what to do.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question had you flying out of the hammock and back into the bedroom before you could even get a word out. JJ was standing in the bathroom doorway, Sarah’s capped pregnancy test in his hand. Your heart fell to your ass and you just stared at him.

“Babe?”

You shook your head, tears forming faster than you wished when you realized you’d been so unfair to him. “JJ, I gotta talk to you.”

“Are you pregnant?” He repeated the question much quieter, his tone still soft and careful as he approached. 

You shook your head again. “No. It’s not mine.”

JJ nodded, his gaze dropping to the two lines on the test as he stared at it. “Then…?”

“Sarah’s.”

There was a sense of relief that overtook him, but part of him was also sad. Starting a family with you is something JJ had been hesitant about, especially with his own paternal history. He didn’t know if he could fix the curse of his dad’s behavior. Both of his so called fathers' behavior, actually. 

“Would… Would you-”

“I can’t have kids.”

JJ blinked and looked up at you. “Huh?”

You crossed your arms over your chest protectively. “Because of everything… with- with Rafe. They said there’s…it’s not impossible but it’s extremely high risk and unlikely.” 

When he was silent, you knew this was a dealbreaker. You should’ve told him, given him a chance to run before he put a ring on your finger and gave all this effort to you.

“I know I should’ve told you, so if…if you want this back, it’s okay. I don’t blame you if you wanna act like this never happened, but I’m sorry and-”

“Shut up.” The command sent you silent as you stopped pulling the ring from your finger, eyes going wide in shock. JJ shook his head in disbelief and you were somehow so terrified of what he was going to say. This could very well be the end of everything you’d been through all because you couldn’t be honest with him. 

“You… you think I would leave you? Over this?” JJ’s emotions were getting the best of him now and he couldn’t pull his gaze from your teary one. “I have your initials inked into my skin. Do you really think I would do that?”

You shrugged. “I’m not… I’m just giving you an out. Incase you want it.”

“Why would I ever want that?” He was much louder now and you almost took a step back before reminding yourself that this was JJ, your JJ. “Why would I ever leave you over something you can’t control? Sweetheart, I love you more than anything. If you wanted kids, fine, we would have them. But if you didn’t, or you couldn’t, that’s okay. I’m not willing to risk losing you over some annoying ass toddler that messes up all my shit for a handful of years.”

He pointed the small pink stick in your direction, his own eyes wet as his frustration carried into his tone. You knew it wasn’t directed at your actions, rather the way your head had been handling everything, but it still felt weird. “Don’t you ever, and I mean ever hide something like this from me just because your head is telling you, I don’t want you. Because-”

The door slammed open at the worst opportunity possible, both you and JJ turning to see Sarah and John B looking back. You gasped at them, knowing everything probably looked and sounded so wrong. “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s mine!” Sarah practically yelled, running forward to grab the test from JJ’s hand as she stood in front of him at her full height. “It’s mine, okay? And drop the fucking tone with her, JJ. You have no idea what she’s been through and-”

“Hey, it’s-” John B held a hand in front of you when you went to intercept Sarah. JJ’s eyes were wide at the words coming out of the girl’s mouth but he didn’t argue back with her. 

“Sarah, he didn’t-” 

She turned to hold a finger to you before continuing to lay into JJ. “If you so much as think about saying another nasty word to her, I’ll cut your dick off in your sleep. I swear to God, JJ, you have-”

“He wasn’t doing anything!” You blurted out when her threat became a little too realistic for your liking. “We were talking, okay and-”

“He was yelling-”

“Because I was being selfish!” You snapped at John B, frustration and emotion boiling over. “I should’ve told him everything a while ago, and I didn’t. This is on me, okay? Leave him alone.”

Three sets of eyes watched you carefully as you laid the most vulnerable pieces of you out for them to see. 

“It’s my fault,” You nearly broke there, a breathy hiccup escaping as you tried to keep it calm. “I don’t want the pity. I don’t need it. I should’ve fought back against him, tried to defend myself more but I-”

John B shook his head, his voice breaking as he whispered your name. 

You ignored him and looked straight at JJ. “He ruined the best thing I could ever give you. You deserved the chance to correct all the things your dad did to you, the things he put you through. All I wanted was to give you everything you never had, to be everything you never had because you deserve that and so much more. And I let Rafe Cameron of all people ruin me… I’m ruined for you.”

You felt like you were witnessing a slow motion car crash. All of your nightmares had consisted of one thing: losing. Losing JJ, losing your friends, losing yourself. You felt like it was coming to life in front of you.

“I can’t do this.”

Stabbing you in the heart would’ve hurt less than JJ’s statement, but you had to accept it. You gave him an out and he was taking it. Part of you wanted him to blame you because it would at least give you some confirmation on what he was thinking. All you could do was nod and look at the floor. You’d finally done it, you’d manage to push away the one person who knew you inside and out and you only had yourself to blame.

“I can’t sit here and let you think a single word of that is true.” JJ pulled at his hair. God, you looked so broken in front of him and he couldn’t believe this whole night was turning in this direction. He crossed the room to hold your face in his hands, heart breaking at the tears on your cheeks and the way you shivered from his touch.  “I’ve told you time and time again that you’re everything to me. I don’t give a flying fuck if you walked out of that whole nightmare with one eyeball and four fingers on one hand. You walked out and you’re still here. That’s what matters. You are and you will continue to be my entire world. I told you tonight, and I will continue to tell you every single day if that’s what you need.” 

“And you’re the furthest thing from ruined.” Sarah reminded you that she was in the room, John B crying behind her as they watched the scene from a small distance. “God, you’re literally perfect. A great boyfriend, a great brother, amazing friends. You’re so kind and selfless, and you’re so dedicated to each and every one of us in ways that nobody else is. I give you one look and you’re already on the same wavelength as me without a word. I’m not going to stand here and watch the future godmother and favorite aunt of my child think so negatively about herself when she is easily one of the best things in each of our lives.”

JJ was there to catch you when you sobbed, your whole body nearly collapsing in relief that he knew everything now, that you weren’t carrying what felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders. 

“I suck at sappy shit, everyone c’mere.” John B managed to pull a laugh out of the group, the four of you hugging each other tightly in the middle of your bedroom like the world around didn’t exist. Sarah, John B, and JJ had seen the worst pieces of you and still loved you unconditionally. It was time to get out of your head and embrace it, no matter how much you wanted to hide away. 

“Now that that’s over with… you’re fucking pregnant?!”

--

The chaos of the night finally settled down enough after JJ expressed his excitement for John B and Sarah. He didn’t hesitate to guide you to bed shortly after, mumble apologies being shared that tonight didn’t go differently, but you reassured him you had forever to celebrate it. Sarah eventually curled up next to you, the two of you in a fitful sleep for as long as you could while the boys stayed up to keep an eye on Groff.

Sarah was scrolling on her phone when you woke up a few hours later. She looked over her case to smile at you as you groaned loudly and stretched. 

“Are you and John B actually going to apply for a marriage license?” Your voice was raspy as you spoke, your eyes meeting hers as you shifted on your side to look at her.

She dropped her phone to the comforter. “I think so, unless he changed his mind from yesterday. That was the plan.”

You nodded, a small smile growing on your face. “Are you nervous?”

Sarah let out a breathy laugh. “Hardly. I just can’t believe all the shit that happened in the last 24 hours.”

The two of you conversed for a few moments longer before climbing out of bed to get ready for the day. While Sarah busied herself finding a cute white dress (one of her own, this time), you quickly changed and did your morning routine before settling in to help her curl her hair.

“Ready?” You asked as she slipped her shoes on and turned off the light. She nodded, grabbing your hand to pull you down the stairs. Cleo was eating a sandwich in the kitchen and looked up as you entered.

“Don’t tell me I’m losing another one today?” Her eyebrow raised in curiosity as Sarah practically skipped outside.

“We have to share the same last name for a little bit, right?” You winked in her direction, the pieces falling together before she shook her head jokingly.

JJ, Pope, and John B were already outside, apparently packing the Twinkie to head to Larissa’s grave with Groff. Your brother was literally pacing a path into the grass, his head snapping up as Sarah stepped off the porch with a tiny squeal.

“Let’s make this quick,” JJ was oblivious to the couple next to you and rubbed at his face to wake himself up. 

You hid your smile behind your hand as John B and Sarah stared at each other for a moment, both of them red in the face as she finally reached your brother’s side.

“Hey, we’re gonna get out of your hair, actually,” John B’s voice was so absentminded as he kept his eyes on Sarah, completely disregarding JJ’s confused look. He pointed in your general direction as he took her hand. “Love you, see you in a few. Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shifted into your fiancé’s shoulder, his arm falling around you as he took in the duo for the first time this morning. Pope gave you a confused glance to which you just held up your left hand and pointed to the ring on your finger. He nodded, much easier to communicate wordlessly with than JJ would be. 

“I, uh, okay?” JJ’s confusion made you laugh as Sarah and John B disappeared around the side of the house without a word, small talk being shared between the two of them as they made their way down the dock. He turned to look at you and clocked the smile on your face. “Something to share with the class?”

You shook your head, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. “Not in the slightest. You ready to go?”

JJ glanced between the Twinkie and the porch where Groff was getting to his feet. “How about you stay here with the girls and Pope? I… this is my mom. I feel like it should be personal, you know?”

You glared at him. “What did John B say?”

The way he took a step back already told you the answer. “No, nothing. Nothing, I just think I should give this a shot, on my own, you know?”

“JJ, I swear-”

He grabbed your shoulders carefully. “I love you. And if shit goes south, I can’t risk having you in danger with me not being able to help. So, please. Stay here, with them, and I’ll be back. Okay?”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” You admitted quietly, your hand grabbing on his wrist. You weren’t so convinced by his reasoning and with Groff giving you weird vibes, you really didn’t like this idea. “Be careful? I know he’s supposedly your dad and all but…”

JJ nodded in understanding, his eyes catching on someone behind you. “Told you I’ll always come home to you, and I mean it. Love you, sweet girl.”

He kissed you softly, hand slipping from your shoulder to hold your neck gently. You hummed in satisfaction, your fingers grabbing his flannel to pull him slightly closer. 

“Alright, lovebirds.” Groff’s voice ruined your goodbye as he stopped next to you. Pulling away from JJ, you gave the man a sharp glare, unamused by his comments and whatever assumed power he thought he had over JJ. 

Rolling your eyes, you gave JJ one more kiss. “Love you, please be careful.” 

You stepped away from him to head back inside, but an unfamiliar hand landed on your shoulder, stopping your retreat. You turned back to Groff, looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and removed his hand, pointing down at the ring on your finger. “I…um. I always wanted a daughter, Larissa did too. I’m glad you’ll be joining our family one day.”

The disgust on your face was very evident as you stared back at him, forcing a nod. “Yeah, considering you gave away your own son, I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Groff gave you a short nod before turning to climb into the Twinkie’s passenger seat as JJ slammed the door of the driver’s side. You shook your head as the van started and drove away, the sinking feeling in your stomach building with each passing moment. 

“You feel the same way I do about this?” Pope asked as he joined your side, the two of you watching the van disappear out on the road.

You sighed, “We shouldn’t have let him go alone. That man is the biggest manipulator if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Now all we can do is wait and hope he comes back, preferably without that pathetic excuse for a man.”

--

While JJ busied himself adventuring with his dad, Pope and Cleo went out to grab gas for the boats with the remainder of the five grand down payment Wes Genrette had given. You and Kiara busied yourselves trying to get some items together for the potential trip to Morocco (if it happened) but mostly trying to downsize to what could be taken to Ward’s rental condo. The property was left in Sarah’s name, thankfully away from Rose’s evil claws, so your group could try to wiggle in as best as possible, but the three bedroom condo was no match for your family of seven, and soon to be a baby.

“I’m gonna grab supplies and shit from outside,” You said with a huff, brushing the sweat from your forehead. “Be right back.”

Kie was head first in making sandwiches and food to take along, so you dipped out of the room by yourself. The wind was refreshing, blowing across your skin as the two of you headed into the store area to collect your items. 

You grabbed a handful of first aid items, shoving them in your worn backpack with as much organization as you could muster. 

Humming along to the music on your phone, you moved fluidly to grab random supplies from the walls, figuring the store wouldn’t need them much anyway considering the property wasn’t yours soon.

Something moved in your peripheral and you turned to see the Twinkie parked outside again. A small frown formed on your face; you didn’t think JJ and Groff would be back that quick. Walking out, you glanced to catch sight of the blond boy but came up short. 

“Babe?” You called out, heading toward the driver side in case they were still talking inside. Except, they weren’t. Nobody was inside, actually. “JJ?”

You spun on your heels in hopes of him popping out, but still no sight of him. Setting your course to the house in hopes that he’d be there instead, you were met with Chandler Groff popping out of the side door in what looked like a hurry.

Stopping, you crossed your arms and glared at him. “Can I help you?”

He had the tube containing the scroll in his hand, and motioned toward it. “Uh, hi. I uh, I just came to grab the scroll to make sure it’s not just the artifact from the mausoleum.”

His rushed tone told you there was more to the story but you nodded. “Mhmm, um. Where’s JJ?”

“Oh, he stayed behind at the family plot. He sent me to retrieve this. I thought I’d give him some time alone, you know?” He took a few steps toward you, that you immediately repeated in the opposite direction to put some distance back. Any further and you’d be against the Twinkie and out of options.

You dug your fingers into your arm. “He certainly got his lying skills from Luke because I don’t believe you in the slightest.”

Groff laughed but you could tell it was forced. “Well, you hardly know me, of course you aren’t going to believe me. You can ask your friend in there… uh Kiara is it? She seemed fine with the idea.”

“Oh so you won’t mind if I just call him, then?” You reached into your pocket where your phone was still playing music.

“Yeah, yeah you should. You should call him. He’ll confirm. Go ahead.”

Your back hit the metal of the van as Groff continued to push into your space. You glanced down, swiping for the FaceID to activate and unlock before completely bypassing checking JJ’s location and instead pressing the lock buttom twice. Times like these you really thanked Sarah for helping you set up the shortcuts she did.

All it took was that one split second before Groff’s hands were shoving you and your head collided with the window of the Twinkie, glass shattering from the impact. Your phone slipped from your hands and you gasped, knees giving out as you grabbed your head in pain.

“Kie!” The scream tore through your throat but was cut off as Groff grabbed your throat and yanked you off the ground. 

Panic set in instantly, all of your senses blurring as images of Rafe flashed in front of you. You struggled to get air in your lungs and gasped, hands shoving and feet kicking like it would do you any good.

One last hit to your head, and the sweet dark relief took over.

Then silence.

--

You weren’t sure if you were awake.

There had been moments like this in the past when you were at the Camerons’, so blissed and drugged out that you couldn’t tell the difference from reality or hallucinations. Like a sensory tank, there was no light or noise. Just you and your racing thoughts and the loud thump of your heart in your ears.

Here you were, all over again. No sense of where you were, what had happened, or who was around. You could barely breathe and the hefty duct tape on your mouth stole your inability to speak. The sharp bite of pain when you tried to move was thanks to zip ties that were too tight, and you realized how utterly stuck you were.

The tears came first, followed by the hyperventilating. You tried running through the methods they taught you in therapy, the counting, the timed breathing. JJ’s voice was echoing in your head to keep your airways open and not clench your hands but JJ wasn’t here, you couldn’t move, and one of your main airways was not an option.

An attempted cry left your body, but you doubted anyone could hear it. It was so muffled and quiet that it might as well have been a whisper in a concert arena. 

You were going to die. You were going to die here, alone, with nothing but the thoughts in your head to keep you company. You hoped Kiara was okay. Hoped that none of your friends would be the ones to find you, if they even could. 

The tears were unstoppable now, small sobs escaping as you tried to pull air in your lungs but it was getting harder. It felt like someone’s hand squeezing around your throat.

Tighter, tighter, tighter.

Gone.

--

Kiara was a stranger to what it felt like being knocked unconscious. Hell, the closest she’s ever gotten was because of Pope nearly concussing her with an ore a couple of weeks ago. It was never from being punched in the head and colliding with the table.

The headache was killer, enough to send her vision swaying but she forced herself to her feet. “Ah, fuck.” Her fingers poked the area where the pain was radiating, but no blood came back so she considered that a good sign. 

“Kie!” 

John B’s scream was not a good one, and it was enough to get her moving out of the house to see him sprinting across the yard with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah close behind. 

“What’s happening?” Her voice was much quieter than she expected as the all moved toward her. Pope’s hands were gentle as they hovered her face, taking in the bruising on her cheek.

“What happened to you?” Cleo asked, wincing at the injury.

Kiara shook her head, “I can’t… just give me a second.”

“Where is she?” John B asked, eyes scanning the entire ground. He was on the verge of screaming or crying, or shit maybe he needed to throw up. “The SOS text came from her phone, fro-from the shortcut, where is she?”

“John B!” Sarah picked up the device in question that was resting in the grass near the van, the music still playing from it loud enough that she could hear.

The sight of your case made his heart drop. “Shit, stay here. Check the house,” He directed toward Pope and Cleo, practically sprinting toward Sarah.

“It seems fine,” She commented, “Music still on and everything. Maybe she did it accidentally?”

Except, John B wasn’t looking at the phone in Sarah’s hand. His eyes were locked on the nearly shattered window behind her head, a window that hadn’t been fucked up before. Sarah noticed his silence and looked over her shoulder, the broken glass answer enough that no you didn’t do this accidentally.

John B yelled your name again, nothing following his call, so he took off running into the shop with hopes that maybe you would be there. If Kiara was in the house, chances were, you weren’t.

Except the shop was empty, besides your backpack resting on the counter with various shit scattered around it.

“Is she in here?” Sarah asked as she ran up behind John B, her eyes scanning the room for any sight of you. “John B?”

“What the fuck?” You brother tugged at his hair and moved to where your bag was sitting as he tried to look for any clue, anything, that would tell him where you were. “No, no, no. We can’t do this again. I-I.. I told her I’d never let something like this happen, what if-”

“John B, John B, hey!” Sarah grabbed his face as gently as possibly. “Do not lose your shit. Not right now. She needs you, okay?”

His hands were fucking shaking and suddenly, this was too scary for him. Something had happened, and now you were missing.

“Look, look. I’ll get you a water and we can see if Kie remembers anything okay? It’s probably a miscommunication and-” Sarah turned toward the red Coca-Cola cooler that usually housed the ice for cold drinks and stopped short at the screw driver wrenched between one of the closures. “Did you lock this?”

John B pulled his hand from his face to look at what she was referring to. “What? No, we never…”

Sarah ripped the screwdriver out in a second, flipping the latch to unlock the lid so she could pry it open. “John B!”

The Routledge boy jumped forward to look and nearly threw up his breakfast. “Move, move!”

Reaching down, he grabbed ahold of your unmoving body, your skin so pale and cold that he didn’t know what to do. His knees hit the ground hard as he laid you down, hands moving to shake you. “Wake up, hey. Wake up!”

Sarah called your name, her touch gentle as she pulled the duct tape off your mouth, but you still didn’t move. “John B, she’s not breathing!”

“Pope, help!” 

Like a series of deja vu, John B’s hands went to your chest to push down harshly, the rhythmic movement too familiar for comfort. Sarah had been in this same position under his hands before, a gunshot wound to her hip and barely enough blood to keep her alive. John B never wanted to do this again, and he sure as shit never wanted to do it to you.

“Pinch her nose, and breathe in her mouth,” He gasped out in an attempt to keep the sobs at bay. “Pope!”

Sarah followed the directions, pinching your nose and opening your mouth to push air back into your lungs. She was shaking, barely able to see through her tears. 

A series of footsteps came seconds later, and Pope swore his whole world stopped at the sight ahead of him. You, his practically adopted sister, lying still on the floor as John B attempted CPR. Kiara nearly screamed, and Cleo stood in shock as Pope flung forward to take over the compressions with more confidence and precision.

“Go, again,” He directed to Sarah as John B tumbled back against the counter in shock. Pope started his compressions again, keeping his count outloud. 

Kiara stumbled to your brother’s side, wrapping her arms around him as they stared on, horrified. Cleo moved to grab scissors, her careful movement cutting the zip ties from your ankles as Pope continued to put pressure on your chest.

And then you coughed. 

And Pope fell into a fit of tears. Removing his hands from your chest, he fell back on his ass in what felt like exhaustion. 

“Aye! You okay?” Cleo was trying to keep a level head but the way her heart was pounding against her chest told her otherwise. She’d never been so close to losing someone, not like this. She carefully snipped the remaining ziptie and your hands instantly reached for Sarah, who cried into your hair and helped you sit up.

Despite your wishes, you couldn’t get your voice to work and opted for nodding instead. Your throat ached and your head felt like it was going to shatter into pieces, and you were so, so cold.

“Holy shit,” Pope choked out as he watched you blink and your own chest move air into your body. Your head was reeling at all of their concern and voices so you closed your eyes and continued to focus on just evening out the flow of air. 

John B ripped himself out of Kiara’s arms and next to Sarah the second he got a grasp on what the fuck just happened. “Hey, hi. You’re okay. It’s okay now.”

You reached out to grab John B’s hand, squeezing enough to let him know you could hear him and were responsive. Sarah’s warmth left your side a moment after and John B easily took her place, his arms cradling you against him like you were a small child as he cried into your hair. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you blinked your eyes open to see Pope sitting in front of you with Cleo rubbing his shoulder soothingly, Kie leaning against his side. He quickly brushed the tears from his cheeks but it already told you everything. 

You mouthed a thank you and cuddled in closer to John B’s chest, opting to just breathe breathe breathe.

You weren’t sure what the fuck had just happened, but it seemed like your friends were about to have one crazy ass story to tell. 

-- 

John B did not let you out of his sight. 

After carrying you back to the house and directing Sarah to help you into your warmest sweatshirt and sweatpants, he looked to Kiara for answers.

The girl’s brainfog had thankfully cleared and she was about to recount Groff showing up, claiming he and JJ found the lens and needed the scroll. When Kiara asked where her friend was, Groff knocked her out, which meant her intercepted you next.

Nobody wanted to ask questions, but the SOS text on their phone screens was hard to pull their eyes off of.

When everyone had phones replaced following El Dorado, Sarah had made sure to set up a shortcut that sent an SOS text with a location to the group chat in case of an emergency. She hoped it would never be used, but she was so thankful you thought quick enough to use it in this situation. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if not.

“Here.” She handed you an warm cup of tea with honey in hopes that it would help soothe the soreness in your throat but the handprint outside on your skin told her otherwise. After helping you crawl under the covers, she sent a quick text to John B that you were settled before the group came tumbling in. 

Your brother instantly threw himself next to you near the top of the best, shifting so you could lean against him and he could keep a hand on your arm at all times. Kiara took your other side, sitting crisscross as she held an ice pack to her head. 

“Y’all are dramatic,” Your voice was practically gone as you joked with them before taking another sip of your tea.

“And you sound like you smoke six packs a day,” Cleo chimed back with a teasing smile on her face. “Save your voice, girly. We got you.”

You gave her a weak smile.

The next twenty minutes consisted of everyone sharing what the fuck had happened in the past few hours. Pope and Cleo nearly got wiped out by Kelce which caused them to collide with Sarah and John B who had been running from Topper and Ruthie. Kiara took a gnarly blow to the head like you did, and JJ was still absent from the group.

Splendid. 

“So, what? Groff left with the map and lens and JJ’s still with him?” Pope recounted as he started to pace the floor. 

Your calls to JJ had been ignored and considering he didn’t show up with the SOS text, you were really worried Groff had gotten to him. Your fingers moved across the screen to pull up his location again and you dropped it on the center of the bed so your friends could see his location pinging from the middle of the ocean.

Turning to John B, you tried to communicate with your hands that you all needed to leave, but he was unamused. “No, no. You’re not leaving this room, let alone this house any time soon. You hear me? Grounded.���

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the comforter to open your notes app and type away. 

Then you guys need to go. If something happens to him and I’m the reason you didn’t go, I’ll never forgive myself. 

You shoved the device in John B’s direction, watching as he skimmed the words before shaking his head slightly. Annoyed by his silence, you moved it over so Sarah could read it instead.

“She’s got a point, John B. We need to go.”

John B took a look around the room, everyone’s expressions matching Sarah’s as they read the message on your phone. He hated this, the thought of pulling you out of a safe space after he just nearly broke your ribs from the force of his own hands because you weren’t breathing.

“Fine, fine,” He admitted defeat when even Cleo nudged her head in the direction of the water. “Go get your shit. I need to talk to this one first.”

Your eyes were going to get stuck in the back of your head if you rolled them again so you just sighed and flopped against the pillows as everyone scattered. Sarah patted your knee through the covers, reassuring she’d grab your backpack and everything before slipping out the door, leaving you with your brother.

You quickly typed on your phone as John B watched you.

I’m not arguing with you via notes app, bro.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t wanna argue. Just um…” He let out a breath, tears filling his eyes faster than he intended. “You really scared me, out there. And I don’t like the idea of you getting thrown back into danger, but the idea of leaving you here is even worse. So I need you… I really need you to promise me something.”

John B shifted to sit where you could see him easier and not strain your neck looking up at him. He grabbed the phone from your hand and let it fall, taking both of your palms into his. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stick with Sarah. And you won’t go throwing yourself in front of anyone if it comes to it. You… you both mean way too much for me to lose you to a stupid fucking treasure hunt. Okay?”

You squeezed his hands and nodded, because it’s really all you could do. So you did.

And now, you needed to find JJ… but nothing was ever that simple for you all, was it?

--

a/n: did i redeem myself??? also john b is not over what just happened and i think another crashout is coming

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

[miaoua3]

(pairing: dino x f!reader)

based on that one video of vernon trying the food that dino made and immediately thinking it’s bad when vernon said that it’s chewy oh my baby how i love you

“babe? could you come here for a second?”, chan lets out from the kitchen, his voice sounding unsure and hesitant.

sensing that this is more than just a favour you could do for him, you get up and walk to where he’s standing in front of a stove.

looking at him expectedly, you smile “yes? what is it, love?”.

fidgeting with the spoon for a moment, he then takes a bit of a food from the pot, before he blows on it to cool it down. slowly bringing it to your mouth, he questions “could you try this and tell me how it tastes? i’m not sure if it’s all that up to your tastes.”

you just take ahold of his wrist before bringing the spoon in your mouth, choosing not to respond to his question and instead just do it.

you chew on it for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, trying to identify everything that he put in it.

hm, maybe a bit more salt would be good you think to yourself.

before you even have the time to open your mouth to sound your thoughts out loud, he interrupts you.

“i knew it, it tastes bad right? i’ll just throw it out a-and we can just order something-“.

sensing that he’s spiralling quickly, you immediately bring your hands to his cheeks and turn his head to yourself.

“hey, hey, hey, baby no, that’s not what i was going to say. i just thought that it could use a bit more salt but otherwise everything is fine, it tastes super yummy.”

chan just looks down to his feet that are fidgeting lightly. you look him with eyes full of pain before you move closer, leaning your forehead against his own so his eyes are forced to look at your own again.

“channie, my love, what is this about really? you know you don’t need to stress this much over some food. plus, you know that i would eat anything you’d make for me, because everything you make tastes divine.”

chan’s hands come to fiddle with the hem of your shirt, insecurity very visible on his face. you rub your thumbs against his soft cheeks as you wait for him to answer you.

after a minute, he finally quietly says “i know i’m not the best cook, so i just wanted to make you something as a way to improve my cooking skills, so you wouldn’t have to do it all the time, like you are doing at the moment…and what kind of boyfriend am i when i can’t even make anything that you like?…”.

your eyebrows furrow on their own as he continues to speak, heart breaking at how broken and sad his voice sounds.

deciding that you have heard enough, you bring his big and buff body down to your height, hugging him tightly as a way to reassure him.

you sigh before you start speaking against his ear “oh my love, you have to stop being so hard on yourself, baby. you know you are the best boyfriend there is, especially for me. you do so much for me, that i actually feel like i’m not doing enough for you. you are always there for me, you take care of me both emotionally and physically. i haven’t paid for anything ever since our third date, and you know how that makes me feel. the cooking…it’s the only thing i know i can do to repay you for being my perfect other half and for everything that you do. so it’s really not a problem for me.”, you pause so you can being his face in front of your own again. “you need to start believing me when i say that nobody could take care of me the way that you do, nor that i want them to…you are my soulmate, sweetheart, okay?”, you finish.

chan has to blink his tears away as he nods his head quickly before he hugs you tightly, hiding his face in your hair.

rubbing his back in comfort, you add “plus you shouldn’t be cooking according to my tastes, you know i like my food so salty, it gives me kidney stones.”, as a way to lighten up the mood.

and as he chuckles, you know that you’ve succeeded in doing it.

then again, if that hadn’t work, you would’ve tried another 200 different jokes, just to make him smile again.

because channie should only be smiling and be happy. because it’s what he deserves.

[ahhnini]

imagine rafe meeting your family on thanksgiving!

warnings - nervous rafe, fluff, condescending family members, not proofread!

a/n - hope you all have a warm and safe thanksgiving! <3 if you don’t celebrate I hope you have a fantastic day regardless! hope yall accept this as a apology for the last rafe angst :(

“you warm? I know you’re not that used to the cold, you can turn the heat up if you want.” you say, eyes shifting back to the road. “we’re almost there anyways, i’m so excited for you to meet them…rafe? you okay?”

your boyfriend was shivering like a wet dog. not only was he freezing from the cold temperatures, his nervousness was becoming apparent.

you arrive at your grandma’s house, pulling right up into the driveway. the weather predicted a snowstorm happening later this evening, so you wanted to arrive before the roads get slippery.

you look towards rafe, taking his hands in yours. “they’ll love you, I promise.” you peck his lips, giving him a sweet smile. “if you wanna get on their good side fast, carry in the food and help a little in the kitchen, ‘kay?”

following your words, rafe carries in the pumpkin pie. your grandmother gives you a tight bear hug, and you introduce rafe to her. she smiles and takes the pumpkin pie from his hands, setting it in the fridge.

you see rafe pick at his hands. knowing that he’s still nervous, you whisper to him, “you’re doing amazing, baby.” he whispers back, response having you hold in your laughter, “can I sit on the couch or do I have to sit on the floor?” after failing to stifle your giggle you reply, “one of the bedrooms. we can lay down and chill there for awhile. c’mon.” you drag him down the hallway and into one of the rooms. you close the door, dust the bed, and gesture for rafe to sit down with you.

“you’re so tense. here,” you shuffle on the bed, kneeling behind rafe and kneading his shoulders. his tense muscles relax instantly, and he softly sighs. “its jus’ that my family was never this close with one another, and you have such a big one. it feels new.” you hum, continuing to massage his back, “I understand, but you know I wanted you to meet them for a reason, right? I want you to be a part of my family, I want you to feel welcomed.” you kiss him on the cheek before bouncing off the bed, sitting next to him and leaning your head on his shoulder. “we can stay in the room for now, but the rest of my family is gonna come soon. you have absolutely nothing to worry about, i’m here.”

once you heard more voices bleed into the room, you knew the party had started. “you ready?” “no.” rafe has a slight pout on his lips. “I did not spend all of our time in this room looking up motivational posters for you to say no. we’re going.” he groans, dragging a hand down his face.

everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. you say hi to your relatives and introduce rafe along the way. so far, they’re all liking him, and it’s boosting rafe’s ego.

“don’t get too cocky now. I haven’t said hi to my condescending aunts.” his smile falters. as you walk towards the back of the house, you put on a fake smile as you politely say hi, and try to strike up a conversation with them.

as expected, they ask who you brought over. “my boyfriend!” rafe’s smile returns on his face, but now it was your turn to frown. “boyfriend, huh? didn’t think you had it in you. you’ve got quite the catch there, hope he doesn’t get tired of you.” one of the chuckle, sipping on her white wine afterwards. she then leans toward rafe, “she can be very exhausting at times.” your frown deepens, and you quickly excuse you and rafe from the conversation.

you puff your cheeks as you try and hold back tears, rafe kissing your cheeks. “that was…you okay?” you nod, “yeah, yeah. every year they do that. they just…they never grew out of their high school mean girl phase. it’s fine. I usually avoid them anyways. you still nervous?” he shakes his head, soft smile adorning his face. “good, ‘cus my grandma wants you to help her with something.” you point over his shoulder, your grandma waving rafe over.

as dinner went on, rafe had gotten more comfortable talking. his posture relaxed, and his words weren’t as that calculated anymore.

“c’mon, just one song!” one of your uncles drunkenly ask rafe. he shakes his head, declining politely, “I don’t sing!” you smile at the cute interaction, wanting to have your own fun and tease your boyfriend. “i’ll sing with him!”

three karaoke songs later, you both sneak off into the restroom, wanting to cool down from the chaos. “don’t ever make me sing again, y/n.” you giggle, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. “you’re amazing, you know that?” he nods, tightening his grip around your torso and swaying you around with the music playing in the background.

the house got less and less crowded, everyone was starting to go home, you were about to as well. you were at the front entrance when your grandma stopped you, giving you one last kiss on the cheek. unexpectedly, your eyes widened as she gave rafe a kiss on the cheek as well, wanting the two of you to come back as soon as possible.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897@mfdoomdickrider@grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[ghostgirl-22]

Hi! <3 You’re like my favorite writer for Artrick! I swear you characterize them perfectlyyy

I keep thinking about the idea of Art and Patrick going on a date when he’s at Stanford. Like obviously Art wouldn’t admit it’s a date, but I imagine it’s after Art reluctantly admits that he wants to hang with Patrick alone when he comes to visit and that he’s a bit jealous of Tashi. So they basically have an unofficial date night. How do you think this would go, and how would Art go about initiating something physical between them because he’s obviously not gay right?

Okay but you’re actually such an amazingly talented writer and I love your stuff so much! Thanks so much for this request I honestly don’t think I did this ask justice and I’m sorry it was so long but I hope this attempt brings you some amusement <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! 3.8kish words

—-

It’s not that Art is jealous. He’s not jealous. He’s not. But up until now Patrick’s always called him and stopped by on his little trips to Stanford. It’s not like he expects Patrick to stay long, he knows he’s not the main event… but he at least expects him to come by.

So when Patrick shows up at his door three days later, asking if he can stay in Art’s room, Art tries his best not to express his irritation that he hasn’t once come by his room till now. And it really stings because Art knows the only reason he’s here now is because of the limit on how many days he can consecutively “visit” her dorm.

“You’re saving me man,” Patrick says, patting his arm as he drops his duffle on Art’s designated chair full of stuff.

Art shrugs. “Yeah well. Happy to be an afterthought.” He mumbles.

Patrick raises his eyebrows and then gives him a crooked smile. “You are never an afterthought.”

“It’s fine,” Art says, already embarrassed that he brought it up. “You’re dating Tashi Duncan. It’s totally understandable dude.” He tries to sound nonchalant, hopeful that it’s how he comes across. He feels like he spends so much time these days swallowing down on feelings. Feelings he can’t name, feelings he doesn’t even really understand. None of them jealousy. He’s really not jealous.

He does often wonder what they do alone. He thinks about what they do in bed since the most he really knows is that they’re fucking. He knows Patrick calls her all the time because he doesn’t really call Art that much anymore. They used to sit on the phone for hours, barely talking or talking too much, sometimes till late in the night. The same way they did when they were sharing a room in high school. But gradually it became, Patrick leaving the call earlier and earlier. To Patrick not really calling that often at all.

“You know, you can help me with something actually,” Patrick says, flopping onto Arts bed.

“What?”

“I’m taking her on a date tonight, we’re going to get dinner and see a movie.”

“Oh,” Art says. “What movie?”

“The new Saw movie. What number are they on now? 11?” Patrick laughs.

“Oh I didn’t know she’d like something like that,” Art says carefully.

”Yeah well, she saw the first one and she said liked it. She never got around to the others. I asked her if she’d be scared to see it but she said even if she was… she wouldn’t mind being scared if I was there. Isn’t that kinda… hot?”

Art shrugs again, swallowing it down.

”Sorry, is this hard to hear?” Patrick asks, patting his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Art mutters. “I’m just… I’m thinking about my game on Sunday. I’m not really worried about your relationship actually.” He lies.

“Good cause I was just gonna ask for your advice on what to wear. She tends to dress up for this kinda thing and I don’t want her to be annoyed if I show up in shorts and a t-shirt again.”

“You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“Yeah… you’re always put together,” Patrick says.

“All your clothes are tailored. Just pick something.” Art says, dryly.

“Okay but I want to wear something comfortable. Not something that makes me look like I’m about to donate a hefty sum at some stuffy fundraiser.”

Art sighs, “fine what’d you bring? Lay it out.”

Patrick empties his duffle on the bed, everything he has that isn’t training gear, playing gear and t-shirts is all wrinkled but Art has an iron. He helps Patrick pick something out. He’s still irritated, but he thinks he covers it well.

He’s actually stunned by how happy it makes him when Tashi calls and says she has to cancel. She does kids tennis lessons for extra spending money and a client wanted her help to prep for a game in the early morning.

Patrick’s talking to her, his tone understanding making her feel better about canceling last minute and promising to see the movie another time. He’s such a good boyfriend. It’s so weird that he’s not fucked it up by now. Art can’t remember Patrick ever dating anyone this long before.

Art’s sitting on his bed, back up against the wall, kicking his feet over the edge, listening to him.

“Sorry man, you’re stuck with me all night,” Patrick says after he hangs up. He knees the bed and sinks into it, settling down and leaning close to Art, he picks up his half ironed slacks and frowns.

“Mm… why don’t we go out?” Art suggests.

Patrick laughs and so does Art, feeling himself beginning to flush.

“Or… I mean… we could just hang out. Watch Hell’s Kitchen or something,” Art says quickly. He looks up when Patrick doesn't reply and Patrick is staring at him, a peculiar look on his face.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.” Patrick smirks. “You can be my date.”

“Yeah? Why not?” Art smiles. “I mean who says two friends can’t go out for dinner and a movie.”

Patrick laughs a bit, his expression flitting quickly between amusement and something Art can’t recognize. “Mm right. Platonic date night. Here we come. You have something nice right?”

”Yeah,” Art says. “I can wear that one shirt I wore to the awards dinner last year.”

“Oh yeah, you look so hot in blue, wear that,” Patrick teases.

“Shut up,” Art smirks, ignoring the weird feeling that blossoms in his chest after Patrick calls him hot.

They get dressed. Patrick’s clothes fit him so well. He’s in an outfit that might read as casual (fitted t-shirt, slacks, and a blazer) if not for the simple elegance of it all being quietly wealthy.

He’s also got a great body and anything fitted on him is going to bring that out. Art doesn’t think about his body often or anything like that, it’s just something he notices. The sky is blue, water is wet and Patrick Zweig has a great body. It just is.

They go to the movies first. “I prefer that when I go out on a date, so we have something to talk about over dinner or drinks,” Patrick explains as he drives them over to the theater in his jeep. “You know in case the date is boring. Not that that’s ever the case with Tashi. Actually, you know what’s crazy? I feel like she’s as easy for me to talk to as you are.”

“Hm,” Art says, swallowing down on something bitter in his throat. “Well I think you should try to find a balance. Talk to other people. You don’t want to scare her away by only ever talking to her.”

“Oh is that what you think?” Patrick says, smirking. “I don’t only talk to her actually. I’ve just got a lot of pressure on me. The only time I get a chance to rest I’m so exhausted— I got one phone call in me and so you know…”

“Oh,” Art says. “Well yeah I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Patrick asks.

“Mm, I mean… I think I might be interested in this girl on the team. She’s really good.” Art lies. He’s not really interested in anyone and he’s probably wasting his time, thinking more about Patrick and Tashi than he spends thinking about his own social life. He wants her so bad unfortunately every other girl he meets just pales in comparison.

—-

They’re actually on the 4th Saw movie, and it’s as stupid as Art might have expected. They laugh about it over dinner at Applebees. Patrick’s got this pretty realistic looking fake id so he orders a drink and they split it when the waitress isn’t looking. Not that she cares, she’s also a Stanford student. She’s been to a few tennis games to watch Tashi play but she knows Art is the number one singles player on the men’s team.

“You’re really good,” she smiles at him and he can feel his skin flushing as Patrick grins at him from across the table.

”Thanks uh— but Patrick actually plays professionally.” Art says.

“That’s so cool,” she says, she smiles at Patrick and then looks back at Art. “I would love to learn to just hit the ball over the net.” She laughs.

”He can teach you that easy,” Patrick says. Art kicks him under the table and he just grins wider.

“Can you really?” The waitress asks, flipping her pretty blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah I mean… whenever,” Art says, awkwardly.

“Cool, I’ll be back. You guys want anything else?”

Patrick gives Art a meaningful look and then orders a second drink.

“When were you gonna tell me you got number one singles?” Patrick asks, watching her as she walks away.

“I figured Tashi told you,” Art says.

“Yeah but you should have told me,” Patrick says. “She’s hot right?” He adds, gesturing back towards the waitress.

“I mean… I can tell her you think she’s hot,” Art says. “I don’t think she believes you’re actually dating Tashi anyway.”

Patrick laughs, “God you’re such a dick. I meant for you. That would be a fun night.”

“I guess,” Art says, rubbing his palms on his lap. It’s all he has to say for Patrick to keep teasing him throughout the rest of the night, getting her to come back over and flirt with Art. He orders more and more drinks which she happily brings over.

In spite of the teasing, it’s actually really fun. Of course Art has been to movies with Patrick before, even gone out to dinner with him and their friends or family before, but this feels different. Art can’t figure out why… maybe because he gets to be in Tashi’s place. Maybe because it feels like old times.

They probably spend two and half hours in Applebees talking about the movie, high school, tennis, their parents, video games, girls and anything else that pops into their heads. They only leave because its 12 am and the restaurant’s closing. By then they’ve split a total of six cocktails and Art is feeling so tipsy.

“How much is it?” He asks when the waitress brings the bill.

“I’ll take care of it,” Patrick says.

“Dude it’s okay we can split,” Art says.

“No relax, it’s our platonic date night, right?” Patrick pulls out his credit card. “I can give you this though.”

He hands Art the non singable copy of the receipt and on the bottom the waitress left a note: For whenever you decide to teach me how to serve, Jenny. Followed by her phone number and a heart.

“She drew a heart and everything,” Patrick teases.

”It’s for you,” Art says, shyly.

“It’s so clearly for you, Stanford boy,” Patrick smirks.

“We probably have to take a cab home,” Art hiccups. Changing the subject. He does slip the receipt into his jeans pocket though.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick says. “You’re so responsible by the way. I love that about you.”

Art snorts a laugh and Patrick starts laughing too. Patrick leaves a big tip and they call a cab. Art promises to come back with him to pick up his jeep in the morning and they share a cigarette while waiting for the cab. When it arrives they hop in the backseat for the 25 minute ride back to campus.

Art’s feeling sleepy, the combination of food, alcohol and a long car ride is lethal for him. He closes his eyes, head slipping to settle on Patrick’s shoulder. Distantly, he feels Patrick rest a hand on his thigh and he opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. It should be a nothing feeling but Art goes rigid, he feels it all up and down his spine and even worse, his cock starts to wake up.

“Did you have fun?” Patrick asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, he stares at the meter on the cab. He feels so dizzy and confused as Patrick’s fingers play a light pitter patter along his thigh.

“I’m sorry I’m not… free all the time. Like in high school, you know?” His voice is soft, Art can almost feel the vibration of it from where he’s leaning. He can feel Patrick’s breath on his cheek. It makes no sense the way his body is reacting. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought.

“Uh,” Art sits up. “Don’t worry about it. We’re both um— busy.”

“I know,” Patrick says, he’s still playing the pattern on Art’s thigh. “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

Art feels anxious, he looks up front, he can see the driver glancing back at them in the rear view. “Look… obviously your girlfriend comes first. We can do bro stuff whenever…” Art says as he gently eases Patrick’s hand off his thigh even though it feels nice. His heart is racing like he’s running some kind of marathon he doesn’t know why but it’s probably just the drinks. All the alcohol making his head all fuzzy.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs. “Bro stuff.” He rests his head against the back of the seat and they’re mostly quiet for the rest of the ride. Arts mind is racing. All he can think about is how close they are but how much it feels like something is slipping away.

The halls are mostly empty as they get back to the dorm. There’s a few students still up. A couple talking softly to each other. One girl on the floor with her headphones plugged in watching something on her laptop. Some guy exits his room, talking on his cellphone as he breezes past them.

“You think I can sneak back to her room or no?” Patrick asks, one arm resting on the door frame as Art leans in to unlock his room.

Art feels his heart still beating oddly fast, probably because Patrick is right behind him. He’s never been able to manage personal space as long as they’ve been friends but right now Art is just so… aware of him. “You can stay here. It’s just one night. I’ll even let you have the bed all to yourself.” Art says.

“It’d be two nights. I leave on Sunday.”

“Okay, two nights then,” Art pushes open the door, breaking the closeness. It feels like a temporary bit of relief.

Patrick follows him in and slips off his shoes. “That’s the one thing I hate about dressing up. Fucking boat shoes.”

Art smiles. “I’m really drunk I think.” He says, kicking off his own shoes.

“Yeah?” Patrick smirks.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it to practice tomorrow.”

“Isn’t it in the afternoon?” Patrick pulls off his jacket and then his t-shirt. He digs through his duffle for something to put on.

“Yeah but still.” Art realizes then he’s been watching Patrick undress, like he hasn’t seen him butt naked before. He shakes his head and goes to change into his own night clothes.

“Don’t be mad,” Patrick says as Art gets his jeans off.

“What?”

“I think I need a session, maybe I found that waitress hotter than I realized,” he’s in his boxers holding himself. His eyes fall over Art’s body.

Art looks down and swallows. He’s seen Patrick erect before… even touched it… But they were a lot younger last time. They’d actually grown out of doing it in front of each other a long time ago.

But ever since Patrick brought it up that night… ever since they kissed… Art’s mind would occasionally wander to what it might be like to see it again. And now there it was… just… right in front of him. Patrick holding it idly like it’s not ridiculous to be carrying all of that around. Art’s fingers twitch, his mouth is suddenly too wet and he swallows again. The worst part… he’s getting hard.

Patrick sighs. “I’ll go in the bathroom.”

“Um…” Art can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he sits on his bed just because his knees are shaky. “I thought… I think she’s hot too.”

Patrick is still for a moment watching him, before he smiles and approaches Art. “Right? I think it was the skirt. I mean those fucking legs.”

Art nods. He reaches for Patrick. His head is all fuzzy, his ears are ringing and Patrick straddles him on the bed. Art touches it through his boxers. It’s heavy and really, really full.

Patrick eases his fingers into Art’s hair. “And she’s blonde….I think I like blondes more than I should.”

Art grips him properly. It’s not just lengthy, it’s thick. The only thing he can think about is what it might feel like in— in— just in.

He rubs it up and down, like it’s his own. He’s never done anything like this before so he’s shocked when Patrick reacts, “Fuck,” he gasps, this quiet sound that makes Art shiver. Art grabs at the front of his boxers and eases them down, revealing a shock of dark hair and Patrick’s cock as it bobs forward. Circumcised, all pink, and all so real. So much bigger than the last time Art saw it like this.

He leans over and licks at the shaft.

“Whoa,” Patrick breathes and then he chuckles.

“I uh—‘m sorry,” Art looks up at him, anxious that maybe this is too much, too far. That he did something wrong.

“God Art. You’re so fucking…” Patrick breathes and settles down on Art’s lap. He takes Art’s face in his hands and kisses him. Art breathes in as their lips touch. It almost feels the way it felt that night. Something warm, almost on fire. Their chemistry overwhelming.

God, is he into this? Is he into Patrick? He thought it was all because of Tashi but this still feels good even when she’s not watching. And right now Art knows he wants to feel more of Patrick’s tongue. He wants to lick his cock again. His mouth hasn’t really stopped feeling wet, but the kiss feels good in spite of it…maybe because of it. He finds himself exploring every inch of Patrick’s mouth. His heart is still racing. He knows Patrick can feel how hard he is. The way he feels Patrick poking against his stomach. He grips it and gets excited when Patrick hums a pretty little moan.

Patrick eases them out of the kiss and looks at Art, fingers tangled in his hair. His cheeks are all flushed and rosey. His freckles are so vivid up close. He’s actually incredible. “You want to taste it again?” He asks, brushing up against Art’s lips.

“Mmhm,” Art nods.

Patrick takes a deep breath and he actually stands up in front of Art, so his cock is just right in front of Arts face. Art stares at him and nibbles on his thumb. Patrick’s got freckles on his tummy, just a couple spattered here and there. Art wants to lick those too.

He sits up and grips Patrick’s cock again. It feels so warm he must run at a thousand degrees. Art licks at him. He can see the way Patrick’s muscles tense. Hear his little breaths. Art starts licking more. Up and down, all over the length of him. He likes how it feels along his tongue. The heat of it, how soft and solid it is at the same time. He likes the taste and the smell, salty and heady. He sees the pearls leaking from the tip and tastes that. He really likes how it tastes so he sucks on the tip a little more. And it’s all punctuated by the way its affecting Patrick.

“Mm, fuck sweetheart, I know you want to explore but this feels insane.” Patrick breathes. “You’re gonna mess around and make me shove it in your mouth.”

Art feels warm at the way he says sweetheart. And the thought that Patrick might lose control over him.

He opens up and takes in more.

“Fuuckk,” Patrick sighs like he’s sinking into a warm bath. Art closes his eyes and runs his tongue over the length. He’s almost sure he can taste Patrick’s heart beating through it. It feels incredible and Patrick starts moaning for him which makes Art begin to lose himself in it. It’s too big to get it all inside at once but he tries to take a little more. His mouth is so wet that when he pulls back spit drips onto his thighs. He licks and then takes it in again, more this time.

“Oh shit,” Patrick gasps. He starts moving his hips like he can’t control himself and Art needs to grab on to keep him from shoving it too deep. But he likes the sliding feeling as it moves back and forth over his tongue. His own cock is aching. He feels like he might start pushing up against the air too. It’s so hot how he’s the one doing this to Patrick. It’s all him. His mouth. His tongue.

“Can you look at me?” Patrick gasps.

Art hums and looks up as it’s sliding out of his mouth, he takes a small breath before taking it back in again but his mouth starts filling immediately. Art feels it hot and thick slipping down his throat and he starts coughing. Which makes it start spilling everywhere, dripping off his lips and Patrick’s still coming so Art licks around the tip to try and taste it.

“No… wait, fuck, fuck… that’s too sensitive just… relax,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. He pulls his shorts back up and stumbles to sit on the bed next to him. He rubs his thumb over Art’s messy lips, Art licks at it and Patrick smiles letting him suck it for a minute before pulling it away and sucking it into own mouth. “Come here.” He rubs his thighs.

Art stares at him for a minute and then moves to straddle him. “Sit,” Patrick says, softly.

Art settles on his lap.

“Have you ever done that before?” Patrick asks, rubbing him over his boxers.

“No, is it okay?” Art asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“So fucking okay,” Patrick says and he starts kissing him immediately. It feels so satisfying, rubbing his tongue along Patricks after having a mouth full of him. He feels Patrick’s fingers ease into his boxers, gripping his cock where Patrick starts jerking him off properly. That combined with the stimulation from the kissing makes Art finish embarrassingly quickly all over Patrick’s fingers and in his shorts.

“Mm I need another cigarette,” Patrick laughs, licking his fingers and gazing at Art.

Art swallows hard, mildly panicked now that he’s back in his right mind. He climbs off of Patrick’s lap.

“What?” Patrick asks. ”And don’t say sorry.”

Art bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. “I think I drank too much.”

Patrick grins. “I don’t know. You kinda spilled some of it,” he gestures to Art’s lap, a bit of pearly liquid settled there.

“That’s not funny,” Art says, biting down on a smile.

“Oh it’s really funny.” Patrick says, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Art asks. Strangely enough he just kinda wants to be near him.

“I’m gonna wash my hands,” he says. “And clean up a bit.”

Art bites his lip.

“You want to come?”

Art nods and gets to his feet. “I’ll just brush my teeth and um… change my…” he gestures vauguely.

Patrick smirks and beckons for Art to lead the way. “So,” Patrick says. “Where do you wanna go tomorrow night?”

[rebelliousstories]

Rain Check

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of a Case involving a Child (No Mentions of Death)

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: When the team gets called out of town the day before Thanksgiving, Aaron has to beg for forgiveness from his wife. But the next week they’re home, he learns that he shouldn’t have felt guilty.

Consider Donating: Here

“We should certainly count our blessings, but we should also make out blessings count.” Neil A. Maxwell

Oh, his wife was going to kill him. This is how he went out. Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief of the BAU, was slightly panicking as he was packing up his briefcase to take with him on the plane. His phone was out to call his wife, who was preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, to tell her that they had been called out of town.

He sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, already feeling the stress headache coming on from having to call her. This was going to be their first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and he had just hoped that they were able to have it. But, of course, that was not what the psycho and sociopaths of the world have in store for him.

There was one, two, three rings before her sweet honeyed voice answered with a cheerful, “Mr. Hotchner, to what do I owe this midday personal call? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Hey, honey. I’m uh- notgonnabehometomrrow,” he mumbled as fast as he could, causing her to have him repeat it.

“I won’t be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. The team got called out to Nebraska on a child kidnapping case.” Aaron heard her take in a deep breath, and release it in a long sigh on the other end of the line.

“I am so sorry, honey. I know we had all those plans made, and you can still go have dinner with your family. I just… the team.” The longer he tried to justify his actions, the worse he felt about himself.

“Do you know when you’ll be home,” came her soft ask.

“No. These things, especially kidnapping cases, we never can predict how they’ll turn out. I’m hoping we’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. I’ll take Jack with me to dinner tomorrow. We’ll be fine, Aaron. Just focus on catching the bad guy.”

How he wished he could have. It had been five days since they touched down in Kearney, Nebraska. Five days, and they were right back to square one. Firstly, this unsub was crafty. He managed to throw suspension off of whomever it was and get another guy arrested. Every lead was turning out to be a dead end. And Aaron was pissed.

He had talked with his wife a little bit every morning and every night that he had been gone, but it did not hold a candle to the need he felt to be home. As he sat around the conference table they had been granted, Aaron pulled a bit on his tie to get it to loosen. A cup of mediocre cop shop coffee was placed in front of him, and an Italian sat next to him.

“I’m not gong to ask if you’re alright, because I know the answer to that. But I will say, it’s going to be fine.” The wisdom in his voice caused the younger man to stare him from where his chair was leaned back.

“I just want to go home, Dave. I want this case over with, and to go home. We never take this long on kidnappings. There has to be something that we’re missing.” The unit chief lamented, turning his face to the ceiling and shielding his eyes with his hands.

“We’ll catch him, Aaron. We always do. Don’t worry. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, we haven’t found a body which means the kid is probably still alive.” Dave reassured, watching his friend closely.

“I know you were looking forward to spend the holiday with your lovely wife, but this is the job. Besides, she is more than likely not as upset as you think. Just put your head in the game, so we can get home sooner.” Rossi patted his knee, and left, shutting the door behind him. All that was left in the room was Hotch, the evidence board, and his own racing thoughts.

As much as he tried to remain focused, he could not help but think of his wife. And in doing so, he thought back to Hailey. She had only been able to take so much of him as unit chief before she threw in the towel. Would his current wife do the same if he kept having to cancel major and minor holidays for the sake of the team?

That was something that he never cared to think about, but it was a very real possibility. Hotch grabbed the cup of coffee and turned to the board behind him. The girl that had disappeared was the same age as Jack. She needed him now. Aaron really needed his head in the game. But the longer he stared at the evidence board, the more questions he got.

Had this girl been a newborn, he would have thought that this was a female abduction. Like a lightbulb flicking on, he sprang from his seat, and called the rest of the team in. From that point on, it was only a matter of time.

Coming home after six days away was like a breath of fresh air. It was late, almost midnight, when Hotch dragged his tired bones to the front door of his apartment. When he got inside, the sight made him chuckle as he disarmed his security system.

His wife was asleep on the couch with a bunch of laundry spread out around her. It honestly looked like a little nest that she had made for herself. Setting down his briefcase, and carefully stepping over the piles, his hand made contact with her arm and gently shook her awake.

“Aar, you’re home,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s get you to bed, Mrs. Hotchner.” Aaron picked his wife up with little difficulty, before turning and making their way to bed. He placed her underneath their sheets, kissed her head, and went to take a shower.

His memory never recorded himself falling asleep, but he knew he did. Purely, for the simple fact that he awoke the next morning in his bed, with his wife already out of it. However, after checking the time on the clock, Aaron rushed to get ready to go into work. He took the fastest shower, put his suit on in record time, and was rushing to lace up his shoes.

“Good morning, dear. Why are you in such a hurry?”

Aaron paused in between doing the laces from tying his left shoe to look up to where his wife was standing in the kitchen. His mug was sitting on the table with some steaming coffee in it. A plate was in front of it filled with eggs, sausage, and toast.

“Um…” he trailed off, “going to work? It’s Tuesday.”

“Dave got you and the team the day off. Go change into something more comfortable, sweetie.” She giggled as she waved him off, back to the bedroom. As he did, he saw the counters filled with different preparations of side dishes. It confused him, but he was just thankful for the day off.

Coming back, Hotch was grateful that he could enjoy his day with his wife. He took his plate and pressed a kiss to her cheek while she went to sit with her own plate beside him. While they ate, she asked about the case they had just wrapped. Normally, this was not something that he liked bringing up, however, it felt nice to get it off of his chest.

Occasionally, when cases are this rough and long, it takes longer for him to decompress after the fact. Figuring out that someone was kidnapping a young girl to protect his wife that could not grapple with the fact that their daughter was dead; it was not something that you could easily comprehend. But, being able to talk to his wife and not a bureau mandated therapist was defiantly preferable.

Being able to go pick his son up from school was a welcomed change. However, his wife made sure to tell the Hotchner boys the second they got home to go get changed. He did not know why. All he knew was that the two adults, and Jack, were grabbing warmed dishes and heading out.

“Where are we going,” came his ask.

“You’ll see,” she replied.

The further they derived, the more he began to recognize the route they were on. Rossi’s mansion was quickly coming into view as they made the final turn into the driveway. Grabbing the dishes, the Hotchner’s went to the front door, and were greeted by their favorite Italian.

“Señora Hotchner, how I have missed you beautiful.” Dave pulled her in and took the dish from her hands with a kiss to each cheek.

“And I have missed you, Mr. Rossi.” Jack and Aaron followed after them. They were also greeted by Dave, and they placed their other dishes on the table outside, where a bunch of other food was already.

However, there was a sight that he never expected. The entire team was outside in the backyard. It was a massive party that he had no idea was going on. Garcia was with Derek and Emily already drinking wine. Will sat with Spencer who was shouting Henry magic tricks in the mean time.

Turning back to look at his wife who smirking an impish smile, he was confused, and knew it showed through on his face.

“I know you were upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. So I talked with Dave about maybe doing a redo.” Before he could stop himself, Aaron swooped down and kissed his wife passionately.

“Well, that is definitely one way to say thank you.” She said with a dazed smile.

“Come on, love birds. Let’s get this started.” Dave guided them to their seats, while Aaron was just thinking how thankful he was to have a wife like he did.

Catherine Pulsifier said, “Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your life.”

[fireboltposts]

Stray Kids' reaction to you texting them "Merry Christmas ya filthy animal" on Christmas day referencing the movie Home Alone 2 : Lost In New York

A/N : Since Advent is round the corner here's a silly Christmas scenario. Picture credit goes to the owner.

Chris

• He'd definitely laugh at your playful message and the Home Alone reference would definitely click with them.

• "Merry Christmas you cheeky little troublemaker 🐺🎄", he texts back.

• He'd call you right after just to hear your voice "so you're quoting movies at me now Y/N ie ? Am I Kevin or am I one of the burglars ?"

• He'd tease you relentlessly but would definitely appreciate you wishing him at midnight.

Minho

• Minho would raise an eyebrow at your cheeky message highly amused by the sheer audacity to text him that.

• "Merry Christmas you brat 🙄. You know what happens to 'filthy animals' right ? Better be careful 😏".

• You'd blush profusely at his reply meanwhile he double texts you a picture of his three precious cats lounging next to the dorm Christmas tree with something like "they're watching you".

Changbin

• He would probably be producing a track late at night while you text him that sharp at midnight.

• He would laugh at your text, clearly amused. "Merry Christmas bunny 💕. But hey we all know who the real 'filthy animal' is over here 😏".

• He'd probably video call you soon after asking you what you got him for Christmas and would make plans for the day wanting to spend it with you.

Hyunjin

• Hyunjin would be startled at first, staring at the message like "Is she calling me filthy ?!" But then he’d remember the movie reference and start giggling.

• "Excuse me ? I'm practically an angel and not a filthy animal 😤 . And Merry Christmas to you too you absolute menace ❣️".

• Hed probably just send you a selfie later, pouting and asking you "so do I look like a filthy animal to you now ?"

Jisung

• Boy would probably be munching on some late night Christmas snack and would almost spit out the food at your message, putting down the phone to laugh at it.

• "HOW DARE YOU !! I'm the cleanest animal here, thank you very much. But Merry Christmas to you too, you little gremlin 😆🎄".

• By evening, he’d text you "Okay fine, I admit that was the best Christmas message I’ve ever gotten. Don’t tell anyone".

Felix

• Felix would be confused for a split second but would quickly catch on to the reference. He’d chuckle softly, finding your humor absolutely endearing.

• "Merry Christmas, darling. 💕 But… are you calling me filthy ? 😭 I thought I was your angel 😔".

• He'd send you a voice note in that deep voice of his wishing you all the love and happiness Christmas. He’d then gush to the members about how adorable you were.

Seungmin

• Seungmin would squint at his phone, trying to decide whether to laugh or pretend to be offended.

• "Merry Christmas, clown. 🎅 You’re lucky it’s the holidays otherwise, I’d roast you for that message".

• He’d subtly bring up your message during the day, saying things like, "So, how many other people did you call 'filthy animals' or am I just special?" He’d tease you relentlessly but would secretly love your sense of humor.

Jeongin

• Jeongin would blink at the message, trying to make sense of it for a second. If he got the reference, he’d laugh and shake his head at how bold you were.

• "Merry Christmas, you weird human. 🎁 But don’t forget that I’m the baby of the group. Filthy animal ? Really ?"

• By evening, he’d probably text you something like "Yours was the funniest Christmas message I received today. But next year, I’m coming up with something better, so you'd better watch out".

A/N : Hope you liked it. Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you did. You can find the rest of my masterlist here.

[spiicii]

the og bloodline / bloodline property (part two)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa / sami zayn x fem!reader  word count → 6.8k summary → sami zayn has proven himself an ally to the tribal chief. as a reward, he is invited to experience what no other outsider has experienced before: a taste of the bloodline’s property.  notes → definitely got carried away with this one, but i hope you think the wait was worth it! i tried not to play favorites, though i’m sure i failed miserably.  tags → multiple partners, possessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, choking, begging, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampie, hickies, some crying, overstimulation, lore accurate tribal chief (roman is not always nice to his cousins)

You pressed a small kiss beneath Roman’s jaw, feeling a small chuckle rumble in his chest at your touch. 

“What a sweet girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss of his own against your temple. “Now be good for me and sit in Daddy’s lap while he gets some work done. Okay?” 

You nodded, letting out a contented sigh as he pulled you closer, cradled in his arms. You always felt so small when he held you like this, his massive arms encircling you, keeping you tucked against his muscular chest. You closed your eyes and let him hold you, his deep voice keeping you calm as he spoke with his family. You didn’t know what they were saying and you didn’t care, more than happy to stay curled up in the Tribal Chief’s arms. His perfect pet. 

“Excuse me, my Tribal Chief. Sami Zayn is outside.” Paul Heyman’s words had you opening your eyes, watching with interest as the Wiseman approached, his head bowed in deference. “He wishes to speak with you.” 

Roman waved one of his hands dismissively. “Fine, fine. Send him in.” 

Paul bowed his head again, already moving away to follow his master’s orders. You felt Jey move up behind you, no doubt already irritated by Sami’s arrival. You knew they didn't get along. 

“Why you gotta entertain that fool, uce?” Jey snapped, his voice tight. “You know he ain’t blood.” 

“It’s not your call to make, Jey.” The Tribal Chief’s words were firm and the Right Hand Man was quickly silenced. Although you couldn’t see him, you could already imagine the disapproving look on his face. 

When Paul Heyman re-entered with Sami Zayn trailing close behind, you couldn’t help but watch him in curiosity. He was taller than you thought he’d be, a happy smile already on his face before he’d even been acknowledged. He seemed excited, practically bouncing on his heels as he entered, rubbing his hands together as though he had big news to share. 

“Hey, Roman! I-”

He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes landed on you. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting you, his smile faltering as his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Oh! Hello.” He seemed nervous all of a sudden, fidgeting with his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sami.” 

He stepped forward with his arm outstretched, as if to offer you a handshake, and you were quick to shrink away. The Tribal Chief didn’t have many rules, but you knew it would displease him to have any man outside of the Bloodline touch you. Solo and Jey seemed to agree, already moving forward protectively. 

“Aye aye aye, back the fuck up, uce,” Jey snarled, shoving Sami roughly in the chest to push him back. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

Sami was quick to raise his hands, as if he were surrendering. “Whoa, whoa, wait! My bad, dawg. My bad. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” 

“Yo, uce, chill.” Jimmy was quick to intervene, already placing himself between Sami and his brother. “It’s alright, man. Relax.” 

Jey’s face was a mask of anger as he stared back at Sami, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were resisting the urge to punch him. Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just relax, uce. It’s all good here.” 

“Yes, Jey. Relax.” The Tribal Chief’s voice was calm, but you could hear the warning behind his tone. “Sit down.” 

You saw Jey tighten his jaw, no doubt resisting the urge to mouth off, but you knew he wouldn’t dare. Not with Sami here. So instead he obeyed, slowly moving back to Roman’s side to take a seat, his eyes flashing with anger. 

Jimmy offered Sami a smile. “Don’t worry about him, man. You know how he is.” 

Sami let out a nervous laugh, shifting his weight from one to the other. It was clear he was trying not to stare at you, but he was failing miserably, his eyes continuing to wander to take in your small form curled up in the Tribal Chief’s lap. You didn’t mind meeting his gaze, taking him in with equal curiosity. 

“You’ll have to forgive my cousins, Sami.” Roman said, relaxing further into his chair as he pulled you closer. “They’re a little…protective.” 

Sami chuckled again, though it was clear he was uncomfortable. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” 

Solo made a displeased noise but a wave from Roman’s hand quickly silenced him. 

“I don’t normally let anyone outside of the Bloodline even look at what belongs to me, but I’ll make an exception for you, Sami. After all you’ve done for this family, I think you deserve a reward.” 

Sami looked at Roman in confusion. “Reward?” 

Roman hummed in agreement, reaching up to cup your cheek with his large hand. His touch was warm and your eyelids fluttered, leaning into his touch. 

“Isn’t she pretty, Sami?” The Tribal Chief kissed your hair and you melted deeper into his arms, your cheeks heating up at his sweet words. “You can see why my cousins are so possessive of her, huh?” 

Sami looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed unsure, his eyes flickering between you and Roman. 

“Come on, uce.“ Jimmy encouraged, clapping Sami on the back. "She’s pretty, ain’t she?” 

Sami met your eyes again and you offered him a bashful smile, nuzzling against the Tribal Chief’s neck in contentment. 

“Yeah,” Sami breathed, his eyes glued to you. “She is.” 

Roman chuckled, reaching around you to grab at your thigh, his grip possessive. “Come to our penthouse tonight then. Consider it a thank you for what you did for me last week with Drew McIntyre.” 

Sami seemed taken aback by his words, but not nearly as taken aback as Jey. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

Jey’s anger didn’t surprise you, however his willingness to confront the Tribal Chief did, especially in front of an outsider like Sami. You felt Roman tense beneath you, his grip on your thigh tightening. You buried your face into Roman’s neck, letting out a small whimper. The last thing you wanted was for them to argue. Unfortunately, Jey was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. 

“He ain’t got no business touching what belongs to us. Uce, you can’t-”

“I can’t?” The Tribal Chief’s tone was dangerous and Jey instantly fell silent. You saw Jimmy cast an alarmed glance in his twin’s direction, but he didn’t dare interfere. He knew better. 

You felt Roman take a shuddering breath beneath you, his fingers clenching and unclenching on your thigh in an attempt to compose himself. You were grateful Jey didn’t speak again. 

“As I was saying,” Roman continued, muscles still tense beneath you. “You are invited to our penthouse tonight. Being allied with the Bloodline has its perks. Ones that I hope you’ll indulge in.” 

After a few tense moments, Roman slowly relaxed, letting out a long breath and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, Sami. The Wiseman will see you out.” 

Sami quickly stood, his eyes still flickering with worry between Roman and Jey, but he didn’t say anything. After one final handshake from Jimmy, Paul escorted him out, quickly shutting the door behind them. 

The room was silent now, the air tense. Nobody moved, but Roman’s breath was steady, his chest rising and falling calmly beneath you as he held you close. Jimmy looked worried, his leg bouncing in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, while Solo remained stoic as ever, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight ahead. It was a long time before the Tribal Chief finally spoke. 

“Argue with me in front of an outsider again and I’ll grind your face into the mat like I did at Hell in a Cell. Do you understand?” 

The silence was deafening, but it wasn’t long before you heard Jey’s response, his voice quiet, “Yes, my Tribal Chief.” 

*****

“Do you wanna touch her, Sami?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was a low rumble, his grip on your neck tight as he pounded into you from behind. 

You whined in his hold, your back arched perfectly as he kept you speared on his cock. His large hand was firmly around your neck, though you were grateful for it, his touch keeping you grounded as you balanced on your knees atop the king mattress. 

You met Sami’s heated gaze and saw the barest trace of a blush tinting his cheeks, his lips parted as he let out small pants of air. 

“Yes.” You heard him breathe, his eyes never leaving yours. You saw that he had his hands clenched at his sides, almost as if he were resisting the urge to reach out and touch you without the Tribal Chief’s permission. 

Roman shifted the angle of his thrusts and heat shot up your spine, another whine spilling your lips as he aimed for that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. He chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss into your hair as he continued to assault your g-spot, his thrusts unfaltering. 

“I don’t blame you.” Roman’s tone was conversational, his voice steady despite the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard inside of you. “She looks so perfect like this, stuffed full of my cock and begging for more. She knows how to serve her Tribal Chief, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You tried to find the words to respond but he dragged across your g-spot again and you almost screamed, the feeling so good that you felt like you could hardly breathe. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed in your ear, his other hand grabbing one of your ass cheeks and kneading the soft flesh there. “You gonna come, pretty girl? Gonna come on your Daddy’s dick?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasped, the tension inside you threatening to snap. “Please, can I come, Daddy? Please?” 

“You beg so pretty for me, baby,” he moaned, his breath hot in your ear. His grip on your neck was so tight that you began to see black spots across your vision. “You can come.” 

The tension finally snapped and you shuddered in his hold, pleasure rolling through you as you clamped down on his dick. 

“Fuck!” He hissed, his hips beginning to stutter against yours. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl.” 

With a few more violent thrusts he did, warmth spreading inside you at the feeling. You relaxed in his hold, his grip on your neck loosening as he finished. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands gentle as he laid you back down on the mattress. “You alright, sweet girl?” 

You nodded, your brain still foggy from the pleasure he’d just given you. You heard him chuckle, his hand warm against your cheek. 

“You’re so good for your Tribal Chief, sweetheart.” he whispered, brushing a few stray hairs from your forehead. “You gonna be good for my Bloodline too? Gonna let them take care of you?” 

You pressed a kiss of your own to his cheek, a sign of life as your body recovered. “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He praised, motioning for Sami at the end of the bed. You watched as Sami approached, his eyes raking across your naked form, his knuckles blanched from how hard he had them clenched at his sides. 

“Come give her a kiss, Sami,” Roman said, already moving away to make room for him. “I think she deserves it.” 

You heard a noise of protest to your right and you looked over to meet Jey’s reproachful gaze, his mouth set to a frown. Sami hadn’t laid a hand on you once since he arrived, the line in the sand clear. His reward from the Tribal Chief was the privilege of seeing you like this, fucked out and used by his Bloodline, a privilege that no other outsider had been granted - not even Paul Heyman. To be granted the honor of even touching you was clearly not something that Jey was expecting, swiftly rising from his chair to approach the bed, his expression furious. 

The Tribal Chief quickly clocked the movement, a firm finger already pointed in his direction. “Don’t even think about it.” Roman snapped, his tone brokering no room for argument. “Sit your ass down and be grateful I’m even allowing you in here after the shit you pulled earlier.” 

Jey curled his lip, an angry retort on his lips before Jimmy moved forward and grabbed his arm, hissing into his ear. “What the hell you doin’? Let it go, uce. It ain’t worth it.” 

There was a beat of silence, the air tense as Jey clenched and unclenched his fists, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. Jimmy continued to whisper furiously in his twin’s ear, tugging on his arm to urge him to sit back down. It took a few minutes, but Jey eventually obeyed, still staring daggers at Roman even as he took his seat, his jaw so tight it looked like it might snap in half. 

“That’s what I thought.” The Tribal Chief’s tone was smug. “I apologize, Sami. Some Right Hand Man, huh? I might be in the market for a new one if this one can’t do as he’s told.” 

A splotch of red dotted Jey’s cheeks, but he mercifully said nothing in return, his eyes simmering with anger as he glared at Roman. The Tribal Chief met his gaze evenly, his lips twisting into a smirk. 

“Well go on, Sami. Kiss her. I won’t ask again.” Roman’s impatience was beginning to bleed through his words, the smallest crack in his composed facade. Sami sensed it too, already moving quickly to your side, only stopping when he met your gaze. 

He seemed uncertain, his eyes flickering behind you to where Jey was sitting. You had no doubt that Jey was staring him down, but you didn’t turn around to look. Instead, you reached out your hand to Sami, tentatively brushing your fingers against his. He blinked, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to climb onto the bed, his eyes still wide as he stared down at you. 

You offered him a reassuring smile, sitting up to meet him. “It’s alright,” you murmured, taking his hand in yours and tugging gently to pull him closer. He followed you easily, his eyes never leaving yours. They were a pale blue, a stark contrast from the dark eyes of the rest of the Bloodline, his pupils blown wide with lust. You reached up and played with the hairs in his beard, watching with interest as his mouth parted, small puffs of breath falling from soft lips. 

You leaned forward and he met you halfway, your lips colliding with more force than you were expecting. You let out a surprised chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, spreading your legs to make space for him. He followed you further onto the bed and you felt his erection press against your hip, his hands on either side of you as he explored deeper into your mouth. He tasted different than the others, perhaps a little sweeter, his lips almost softer than Jey’s. 

He shifted a knee up and pressed it against your core, causing you to gasp against his mouth. He applied more pressure, the fabric of his jeans quickly soaked from your wetness, some of the Tribal Chief’s seed still dribbling out from where he’d claimed you. You felt your hips cant forward to seek more friction, reaching up to tangle your fingers into his unruly hair. 

You were so lost in the feeling that you didn’t feel the bed dip, another body joining the two of you. Full lips were pressing against your neck, a large hand reaching around you to palm at one of your breasts. It didn’t take long for you to realize that it was Jimmy, his lips ghosting across the shell of your ear as he pressed himself against you. 

Sami released you, leaning back to watch Jimmy wrap his arms around you and pull you close, his teeth now grazing the delicate skin of your neck. Sami seemed hesitant now, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you, as if he expected to be dismissed. You offered him another smile, reaching out to tug gently on his beard. 

“Why’d you stop?” you hummed, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Sami visibly gulped, his eyes flickering to Jimmy, as if he were anticipating a fight. 

“Jimmy won’t bother you, Sami.” You heard the Tribal Chief say and you looked over to see that he had settled in his own chair, watching the scene unfold with interest. “He knows how to share.” 

Jimmy chuckled against your skin, his kisses full of teeth. “Sometimes.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, your eyes sparkling with humor as you met Sami’s gaze. “He’s just kidding,” you assured him, pulling him closer. “Kiss me again.” 

Sami quickly obliged, his persistent mouth on yours as Jimmy pressed more searing kisses to your neck and shoulders. It was normally Solo who would leave love bites and bruises across your delicate skin, but Jimmy was in a rare form tonight, his clever tongue licking and nipping wherever he could. His mouth was now latched to the underside of your jaw, a bruise blossoming beneath his lips. 

Sami’s kisses were becoming more desperate, his breath coming out in gasps, swallowing your moans as though he were a drowning man. He only made a sound of annoyance when Jimmy placed a calloused finger under your jaw and tore you away from Sami’s ministrations to claim your mouth for his own, your kiss wet and filthy. 

Sami’s erection pressed deeper into your hip and you moaned in response, wanting more than anything to be filled. Satisfied. 

“You’re welcome to stay, Sami,” The Tribal Chief interrupted, his voice low as he watched the three of you. “But you won’t fuck her. Not tonight. I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.” 

Roman’s tone was light, but you could sense the seriousness behind his words. He’d already been more than generous, allowing Sami to taste what belonged only to the Bloodline. But he wouldn’t allow any more than a taste, not from any outsider, no matter how loyal they were to the Head of the Table. 

Sami’s brow furrowed at the Tribal Chief’s words and you could tell that he was frustrated, his hips stuttering against yours as he resisted the urge to grind against you. 

You looked over Sami’s shoulder and saw that the Tribal Chief’s eyes were narrowing, his patience already tested earlier by Jey’s outburst. “Sami. Come join me.” 

It was a warning. One that Sami was smart enough to hear. His hips stilled against yours, slowly climbing off of you and taking a seat in the chair closest to the bed. He adjusted himself before sitting down, clearly uncomfortable still in his jeans, but he didn’t complain, his eyes still heated as they met yours. 

Jimmy suckled another bruise behind your ear, his cock pressed thickly against your ass. You closed your eyes and relaxed in his arms, letting out a small whine as he twisted cruelly on one of your nipples. His breath was warm against your neck. “Want us both, sweetheart?” 

Always. 

“Yes, please.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting more than anything to be filled up and used. Wanting only to serve.

“Good girl,” Jimmy purred, curling his fingers in your hair to pull you into a kiss. You felt his hands on your hips, already twisting your body around to face him. 

“Don’t.” Roman’s firm voice startled you, your eyes flying open in alarm to look at him. You quickly realized that he wasn’t speaking to you, his angry gaze focused on Jey instead. It took you a moment to understand that Jey had been making his way over to the bed, about to join you and his brother before the Tribal Chief had stopped him. 

The twins almost always fucked you together - it was just their way. They had a near telepathic ability to communicate, their movements always in sync, almost as if they were one person who had been blessed with two bodies. Roman had never interfered, allowing his Bloodline to use you as they saw fit, but tonight was different. His eyes were narrowed at Jey, making it clear that he would not be permitted to touch you tonight. 

The two men faced off as if they were about to fight, Roman’s face completely stoic as Jey’s lip curled again, his golden teeth flashing in the dim lighting of the room. Sami watched the scene unfold with a nervous expression, wringing his hands together as his gaze flickered between the Tribal Chief and the Right Hand Man. Jey took another step forward and you made a distressed noise, pressing your face into Jimmy’s neck, a silent plea to stop this. You hated it when they argued. 

Jimmy shushed you, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead to keep you calm. As always, he knew exactly what you needed. “It’s alright, pretty girl. They don’t mean it. Come on, guys. You’re killin’ the vibe. Stressin’ our girl out for no damn reason.” 

Roman’s eyes met yours and you saw them soften. He never wanted to upset you. Not if he could help it. He leaned back in his chair, motioning towards Solo, who had been a silent spectator for most of the night. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Solo and Jimmy will take care of you tonight. We won’t fight anymore. Will we, Jey?” 

Despite his efforts to keep the peace, you could hear the threat behind Roman’s words, his tone making it clear that he would not tolerate any further disobedience. Jey scowled, his lip still curled, but he thankfully didn’t argue. 

The bed dipped again as Solo joined, his eyes meeting yours with such intensity that you felt your knees weaken. As much as you enjoyed the attention from the twins, you always felt comforted by Solo’s presence. He didn’t participate every night, sometimes content to sit back and watch, his normally stoic facade giving nothing away. You were glad he was here now, your hand reaching out to him almost instinctively to urge him to come closer. 

He took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pressed a sweet kiss into your palm. You smiled at him, pulling him closer. He could be sweet when he wanted to be, despite his rough exterior. You knew he cared for you, his signs of affection small, but not unnoticed. You were pleased when he offered you a gentle kiss to your temple, another sign of his devotion to you. 

Still, you weren’t surprised when he quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you roughly from Jimmy’s grasp to manhandle you into the position he wanted. Solo might have his sweet moments, but he wasn’t one to fuck around. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. You tried to suppress a chuckle as you heard Jimmy grumble, clearly unhappy to not be calling the shots. Solo ignored him, already shoving his older brother roughly back down against the mattress. 

“Aye, yo, what the fuck, uce?” Jimmy protested, but he quickly silenced once he realized what was happening, watching with interest as Solo lifted you up to straddle Jimmy’s hips. You went easily, letting out a shaky breath as Jimmy’s erection nudged at your already slicked entrance. Jimmy looked up at you with a smirk, his hands already on your hips to keep you steady in his lap. 

“Bossy motherfucker,” Jimmy muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked up at you. “Lift your hips, babygirl. Gonna fill that pretty pussy up.”  

You placed your hands on Jimmy’s tattooed chest, leaning up further and widening your legs to allow his tip to tease at your entrance. You shuddered as you took the first few inches, your toes curling at finally being filled. 

As you took more of Jimmy’s cock, you felt Solo move up behind you, his fingers threading into your hair as he pressed a searing bite under your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered at the feeling, bordering the line between pain and pleasure. You let out a gasp as he left a particularly vicious bite mark on your shoulder, yet another bruise to prove that you were claimed. Owned. 

“Solo’s gonna open you up, pretty girl,” Jimmy murmured as he leaned back, your eyes taking in the miles of golden muscle across his exposed chest. “Now be a good girl and sit on this dick.” 

You sank deeper onto his length, letting out a sharp gasp as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Jimmy reached out and grabbed your chin, the grip punishing. “And what do you say?” 

Your eyelids fluttered and your pussy convulsed at his dominating words. Somehow, you managed to find the words. “Thank you, sir.” you whispered, watching Jimmy’s searing gaze twist into a smirk, his fingers tracing the shape of your lips. “Good girl.” 

When Solo’s fingers reached your ass, they were gentle, covered in lube as they slowly fingered you open. You felt your body instinctively tense at the intrusion, the walls of your pussy fluttering around Jimmy’s cock, causing him to let out a groan. 

You felt Solo’s other hand on your shoulder, his touch immediately causing you to still. “Just relax, pretty girl.” You heard Solo murmur, his voice grounding you. “I got you.” 

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to relax as his fingers explored deeper inside you. The feeling was always strange, but not unwelcome, pleasure already beginning to spread across your body like wildfire. 

Jimmy bottomed out and all the oxygen left your lungs. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip knock against your cervix. God, he felt so big at this angle. You shivered as you felt his cock twitch inside you, Solo adding another finger as he worked to scissor you open. When Solo pushed a little deeper, you felt an embarrassing sound emit from your throat, so whiny and needy that Jimmy laughed. 

“Almost there, little girl,” Jimmy rumbled, his grip on your hips still tight. “You can take it.” 

With Jimmy’s cock now stuffed deep inside, pleasure beginning to curl at the base of your spine, there was only thing you wanted to do: move. 

You lifted your hips experimentally, whining as Solo’s grip on your shoulder tightened to keep you still. “Not yet.” Solo scolded, adding yet another finger. “Don’t be greedy.” 

You couldn’t help by squirm in Jimmy’s lap, but you forced yourself to obey, the burn of Solo’s fingers a good reminder that if he didn’t take his time working you open he could hurt you. 

Eventually, Solo withdrew his fingers and you whimpered at the loss, your body already trembling with need. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait, wanting more than anything to bounce on Jimmy’s cock until you saw stars. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye had you turning your head, watching as Jey paced beside the bed. His face was twisted in a mixture of anger and lust, his gaze occasionally flickering over to where Roman sat, almost as if he were pleading with the Tribal Chief to rescind his orders and allow him to join you. 

You wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to pull him close and kiss away those ugly feelings until he smiled again. Would Roman be mad if you did that? Although you belonged to the Tribal Chief, he was normally powerless to deny you anything. Seeing Jey stalk the length of the room like a caged animal had something aching in your chest, but then Solo’s lubed-up cock nudged against your empty hole and all thoughts flew from your head. 

You hadn’t realized that you were shaking so much, though whether it was from excitement or nervousness you weren’t sure. Jimmy seemed to take pity on you. “Come here, babygirl,” he murmured, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, taking the weight from your already aching knees. You leaned into him, your forehead falling into the crook of his neck. 

You let out a high-pitched keen as Solo continued to push deeper into you, the feeling growing more and more intense with every inch. Solo let out a low groan, his hand gripping your shoulder tightly. “Such a good girl,” he breathed, his hips stuttering as he resisted the urge to plunge deeper without giving you time to adjust. Jimmy shifted inside you and you felt his length graze against your g-spot, the feeling sending electric shocks up your spine as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck!” Jimmy hissed, his hands moving down and gripping your ass to spread you open for his brother. “Jesus, I’m not gonna be able to last if she keeps doing all that.” 

You barely heard him, the feeling of Solo’s cock splitting you open making your eyes roll back into your head, your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Another inch and you felt your knees buckle, but you didn’t fall - not with Jimmy’s hands on your ass and Solo’s hand on your shoulder. You felt your pussy spasm helplessly around Jimmy’s cock, the feeling making you want to crawl out of your skin with want. 

“Fu…fuck,” you babbled, your body tensing as Solo pushed deeper. “Too big.” You gasped, your hands scrabbling for purchase against Jimmy’s strong body. 

“You can take it, honey,” Jimmy crooned in your ear, his large hands keeping you speared on Solo’s cock. “Now be a good slut and relax for me.”

Your pussy contracted at his words, your mouth placing feverish kisses against Jimmy’s neck. Jimmy groaned, his cock twitching inside you as you began to lift your hips, still impatient despite the intensity of the feeling of two dicks inside you. 

“So tight,” Solo gasped, his grip on your shoulder becoming punishing. You whimpered at the feeling, leaning up to give a messy kiss to Jimmy’s mouth. With one final thrust, Solo was fully seated inside you, his body flush against yours. You froze, your muscles tense and toes curling. You let out a shuttering gasp against Jimmy’s lips and the look he gave you was positively sinful.

“She looks so fucked out, uce,” Jimmy breathed, one of his hands coming up to wipe the sweaty hair from your face. 

Solo leaned forward, his fingers under your jaw to turn your face towards him. Your mouth was open as you let out small, desperate pants, your eyes dazed when you met his. He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss against your heated skin. 

When both of them moved at the same time, you felt your eyes cross. They fucked you together, not nearly as in sync as the twins normally did, but you found that you didn’t care. With each knock against your cervix your pussy constricted around Jimmy’s cock, making his hips stutter in response. 

“Fuck, your pussy is perfect,” Jimmy growled, his canines nipping against your neck. “So fucking tight.” He adjusted his thrusts and suddenly he was hitting your g-spot with devastating precision. You cried out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes at just how good it felt. Solo let out a groan, his warm hand pressing between your shoulder blades, hips snapping faster as you continued to clench down on him. 

Jimmy’s hand was on your jaw, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. You met his dark eyes, eyelids fluttering, mesmerized by his gaze. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming, your body impossibly full, both holes stretched and abused by two members of the Tribal Chief’s Bloodline. It was all becoming too much. 

“Please, Daddy, please,” you begged, the pleasure threatening to push you over the edge. Solo’s hand wrapped your throat, his fingers pressing down hard enough to bruise. You arched your back, tight as a bow. “Please!” You cried, unwilling to finish without your Tribal Chief’s permission. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Roman’s voice was closer than you realized, and you opened your eyes to see that he was standing beside the bed, his fingers reaching out to brush across your sweaty brow. “Beg me for it and I promise I’ll give it to you.” 

Jimmy’s thrusts began to falter and you knew he was close, your own orgasm just a hair's breadth away. “Please, Daddy,” you begged, your eyes crossing as Jimmy continued to pound into that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. “Please, let me come. Please, please, please.” 

The Tribal Chief’s words were as sweet as honey. “Come for me, baby.” 

Pleasure ravaged your body, muscles jerking and your mouth parted in a silent scream. Your pussy spasmed and convulsed, milking Jimmy’s cock as he continued to slam into you, punching the air from your lungs. He was close, sweat dripping down his brow. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he swore, his mouth on your shoulder as he finally spilled inside you, the feeling warm and euphoric. 

Solo wasn’t far behind, his grip tightening around your throat. “What a good slut,” he snarled, smacking your ass so hard you groaned. His thrusts were becoming harder and more erratic, his grip on your throat so tight that you found yourself fighting for air. 

With one final thrust Solo spilled inside you too. You made a pitiful sound as he released your throat, your head falling into Jimmy’s shoulder. You forced yourself to focus on the feeling of Jimmy’s warm body beneath you, the only thing anchoring you to the earth as the aftershocks of your orgasm left you twitching. Your insides felt gooey, muscles still shaking as Jimmy held onto you, keeping you from collapsing. 

“Good girl,” Someone whispered in your ear, their voice sounding far away. “So sweet. So perfect.” 

You let out a whine as Solo pulled out, your hole clenching down on emptiness. You felt exposed and vulnerable, and he ran a soothing hand down your back, as if he were calming a frightened animal. “You’re okay, baby. We got you.” 

When Jimmy pulled out you felt your mind short-circuit, his load trickling down your inner thigh and onto his exposed stomach. You let out a breathy gasp at the feeling, your body still trembling in his arms. “Shhh,” Jimmy soothed, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead. “Just relax, honey. I gotchu.” 

They were gentle as they laid you down on the bed, their hands no longer grabbing to bruise, their mouths no longer seeking to bite. You let out a small sigh, your body aching and your holes still twitching and spasming from abuse. 

You tried to form a coherent thought, but you felt brain-dead, too drunk on cock to think. All you could do was lay there, babbling the only word you could think of: Jey. 

You repeated his name over and over again like a mantra, letting out a small sigh as you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The Tribal Chief pressed a kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle. 

“What do you need, pretty girl?” 

You made a distressed noise, your fingers reaching out towards nothing. “Jey.” You whispered, your eyelids fluttering. “Jey.” 

The Tribal Chief’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. You reached out to grasp at Roman’s arm, your eyes pleading. 

“Please, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from abuse. “Please.” 

Roman frowned, his expression displeased as he reached out to stroke your hair. You shivered beneath his touch, knowing that while he had never denied you anything you desired, you were asking for too much. It wasn’t your place to interfere with the Tribal Chief’s methods of keeping his Bloodline obedient, especially if he felt disrespected by his own Right Hand Man. 

Still, you couldn’t help but clutch at his arm, your eyes wet with tears. You needed Jey, the same way you needed all of them. 

The Tribal Chief’s gaze softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle. “Greedy girl,” He was shaking his head, but he didn't look angry. He looked almost amused. “But you know I can’t ever say no to you, hm?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling into his hand as he stroked your hair. 

The Tribal Chief pressed one final kiss to your cheek before standing up, his eyes flashing over to where Jey stood. His smile immediately dropped, his jaw now ticked in annoyance as he returned to his seat. He met Jey's questioning gaze with a frown, but he didn’t say anything. Thankfully, Jey understood that he was being given permission, no matter how begrudging it was, and he quickly stripped his shirt and climbed onto the bed before Roman changed his mind. 

You let out a contented sigh as Jey moved between your legs, his soft lips against yours instantly. His smell was in your nose, sandalwood and bergamot, already making you dizzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, comforted by his presence. 

“Why’d you do that, babygirl?” You heard Jey whisper in your ear, too low for anyone else to hear. You held onto him tightly, completely at ease now that he was with you. You weren’t sure you had an answer for him, so you leaned up to kiss him again, hoping that your actions could convey everything he made you feel. 

I want you. I need you. I love you. 

Jey seemed to understand. He always did. He smiled down at you, a burst of sunshine, before leaning down to return to your kiss, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. You reached up to tangle your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, wanting desperately to taste every inch of him. 

His cock slipped into you easily, your cunt still soaking wet from your previous orgasms, his brother and cousin’s come still leaking out from where they’d claimed you earlier. He gasped at the feeling, his forehead pressed against yours as he felt your velvety walls spasm and contract around him. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned, his hips already moving against yours. “My perfect girl.” 

The feeling of him inside you had you relaxing in his arms, each thrust of his hips sending you deeper and deeper into euphoria. Having him inside you was like coming up for air, all the tension bleeding from your muscles as he fucked into you. You melted into the mattress, your eyes fluttering as pleasure curled inside you. 

You’re more relaxed than you’d been all night, Jey’s perfect cock turning your brain into mush as you felt nothing but bliss. You felt him smile into the next kiss he gave you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

“You feel good, baby?” His tone was almost teasing, as if he knew just how lost you were in the pleasure he was giving you, his treatment turning you into nothing more than a brain-dead cocksleeve. When his clever fingers found your clit, you thought you would vibrate out of your skin in ecstasy, your mouth falling open at the feeling. 

You felt him chuckle, his talented fingers so good against you that you felt tears spring into your eyes. 

“It’s alright, pretty girl,” he cooed, his words gentle despite the brutal snap of his hips, quickly picking up speed as he chased his own pleasure. “I gotchu. Gonna take care of you, mamas.” 

You felt helpless as your orgasm rapidly approached, your muscles trembling from how good he was fucking you. His long fingers began to pick up the pace against your clit, matching the fast rhythm of his hips. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last, heat tingling at the base of your spine. 

“Daddy,” You gasped, still coherent enough to remember to ask for permission. “Please, can I come?” 

There was no answer and you felt the tears begin to fall, your self-control already eroding away with each clever twist of Jey’s fingers. 

“Please, Daddy!” You cried, your orgasm so close that you weren’t sure if you could stop it now, even if you wanted to. “Please!” 

You sobbed in relief when you finally heard the Tribal Chief speak. “You can come, pretty girl.” 

The tension snapped. You were engulfed in never-ending pleasure, your pussy tightening and gushing around Jey’s cock as you came, your eyes rolling back into your head as bliss overtook you. You heard Jey swear at the feeling, your release triggering his own as he spilled inside you, painting your insides with his hot, sticky seed. 

Your muscles were shaking, overstimulation now causing Jey’s pleasure to border on pain. But none of it mattered. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you rolled your hips to milk his cock through both of your orgasms, desperate to please. Desperate to serve. 

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[s4vwrites]

little life ─ ✧

outer banks jj! x fem!reader

as always i wrote this not sober

prompt: i think i like this little life.

warnings - none! just a short fluff fic <3

looking down at the water while putting on the dive gear was always exciting what were you gonna see this time, some horrible creepy skeletons…or maybe a nice shell to take home and add to your collection. the thought just bringing a small smile to your face.

“what’s my pretty girl thinking about?” jj said sitting down near your spot in the boat, making you look up from the water to see him not in gear. a puzzled look develops on your face, not quick enough to cover it, jj speaks. “i’m not going this time john b’s grounding me” he joked getting up to help you finish putting the last of your gear on.

“i’m just kidding it’s nothing, he just wants me to hang with sarah up here, just in case some weirdos show up y’know?” he says turning you to face him, seeing you immediately bringing a smile to his face. “hey beautiful.” he says with a big goofy grin and pink cheeks making you laugh and playfully hit him.

“can’t a guy compliment his girl?” he ask jokingly hovering a hand above his heart with a pout on his face. causing you to giggle “okay okay fine i’m sorry-“ you get out between laughs “you can continue.”

“thankyou my lady” jj says reaching for your hand to place a kiss on top of it gently as if you’d break.

“Alright is everyone ready?” john b says making everyone pull their focus to him completely pulling you and jj out of your moment with an embarrassed flush on your faces.

“no more than 10 minutes, we don’t know what’s down there and please don’t split up.” he finishes with a heavy sigh rubbing his forehead causing you to snort as jj throws his hands in contest.

shortly after your making your way over to the dive zone giving jj one last kiss before diving into the water.

im so ready for spotify wrapped bae hurry up

tags

[kkuzushi]

May I request a Popular kid Scaramouche x Nerd reader (basically a power bottom scaramouche)

Also can I be 🐀anon

“ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 ”

✦ characters: powerbottom!Scaramouche x amab!reader

✦ cw: no nut November, college setting, academic rivals (sort of), handjob (receiving & giving), slight praising but mostly humiliation, riding

✦ word count: 2.549k

✦ notes: I’m inexperienced with writing power bottoms so this took some time, I hope I did it right despite being more used to sub-bottom characters. Welcome to my blog as well, 🐀 anon! <3

You sat cross-legged on the couch, your laptop opened and displaying an earlier announcement. The debate competition you had joined was held today and your opponent? It was no other than the confident and quick-witted Scaramouche. However he was no match to you as always—when it comes to academics, you were simply 1% better, and that’s on being humble.

In your dorm, there was another competition being held. A staring contest between you and Scaramouche, both engulfed in silence. He glared at you, most likely sulking in his defeat.

“Fine.” Scaramouche sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “You won, enjoy while it lasts.” His voice was laced with irritation and amusement. It’s not like he’ll deny that you did good but he won’t admit you were better.

You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.

You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.

You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.

He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”

You blink, “Lose what?”

Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.

“Since you made me lose–”

“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.

You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.

“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.

You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.

Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.

Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?

“You don’t dare–”

“Oh but I do.”

Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.

Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.

Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.

The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.

You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.

But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.

And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.

Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.

His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.

Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.

“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.

Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.

“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.

As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.

He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.

There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.

Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.

Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”

“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.

“Fuck– Scara, wait–”

“Gonna cum already?”

“No! That’s not–..”

It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.

After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.

The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.

“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”

You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.

Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”

Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.

The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.

Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”

Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”

Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.

“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.

His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.

“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.

You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.

"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.

With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.

The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.

As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.

“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.

[estrellami-1]

Lavender Letters

To those of you who celebrate, who have something worth celebrating… happy Thanksgiving. To everyone else, happy random Thursday!

Part 8

“S-something else?” Steve parrots.

“That’s right. I’m going to put my hand on your body.” He grabs Steve’s wrist, grins at the gasp that gets him. “And you tell me if you like it there. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

“So how about here?” He tightens his grip, smiles at the whine Steve lets out.

“Y-yeah.”

“Oh, I know you do, sweet boy. You’re so expressive.”

“Eddie-”

“Mhm?” He pulls back a little, enough to see Steve’s face. Steve just gasps, little breaths in and out. “You like sayin’ my name, sweet thing?” He pulls Steve’s hand behind his back and nudges forward, causing them to brush together. He inhales shakily as Steve moans quietly. “You got an upstairs we can go to, sweetheart? Somewhere I can take you apart?”

Steve sways forward, catching himself just before their lips brush. “I’ve- I’ve got a room upstairs,” he says. “But I’m not- I can’t-”

Eddie pulls his hand to his side again, locks their fingers together. “You can’t?”

“They’re gonna hear.”

“How do you feel about gags?”

Steve shakes his head. Even the thought seems to clear his head some. “No gags. Or- or blindfolds. Or restraints.”

“But my hand around your wrist?”

“That’s fine. You’re touching me. But- but no restraints that aren’t you. Or, um. I could try? If you want me to grab the headboard and not move. I could try.”

Eddie hums. “Nah, I think I like you touching me too much. But we’re out of luck until the party’s over, huh?”

Steve turns sad eyes up at him, nods.

Eddie smiles, touches his finger to Steve’s chin. “That’s alright. We can take it slow for a couple of hours. Get to know each other even better.”

Steve smiles. “Like what?”

Eddie hums exaggeratedly, tapping his finger on his chin. “Favorite sound?”

Steve laughs. “I have two. First is rain. I love hearing rain, especially as I’m falling asleep.”

“Nothing better,” Eddie agrees. “And your second?”

Steve colors. “When Robin sleeps over she talks in her sleep sometimes, and I’ll wake up to hear it. And it reminds me that I’m safe.”

Eddie smiles. “My favorite sound is Wayne’s snoring. It’s not overly loud, but sometimes I’ll sit just behind my door and listen to him sleep until I’m close enough to get back into bed and drift off. I think it’s sweet that Robin’s yours.”

Steve looks down. “Would it bother you if I could never listen to your music? Or never learned how to play DnD?”

“Would you let me rant to you about it? You wouldn’t even have to pay attention, really, or remember anything. Just let me talk at you about it, and don’t get annoyed when I want to talk about it.”

“Of course.”

Eddie grabs his hands, smiles. “Then I promise to do the same about whatever you want.”

Steve grins. “Even if it’s sports?”

“I’ll even watch it with you,” Eddie promises.

“You will?”

“I mean, I’ll at least sit in the same room. No promises that I’ll remember anything.”

“That’s okay. Robin’s the same way. Lucas—did I tell you about him? L?”

Eddie hums. “I think so… most polite? Wicked sharp tongue? Is that him?”

Steve beams. “Yeah, exactly! He likes sports, basketball, and sometimes we’ll play together.” He angles a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got a hoop in the back. He’s getting really good.”

“I should hope so, if he’s playing with you. How about football?”

Steve hums. “I like watching it, but playing it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not with the concussions I have.”

“Wayne likes watching it, too. Maybe you could come over, watch a game with him. I know he’d appreciate it.”

Steve’s eyes shine. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He leans sideways against the counter, facing Steve. “Can I ask about the concussions? Or NDAs?”

Steve deflates. “I want to tell you.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“Besides the fact that I fully believe the government’s got ears here? I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

Eddie hums, leans closer. “Well either way, I’d like to take you out one day in my van. Somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, where you can be as loud as you want.” He leans in and whispers, “or say whatever you want.” He pulls back with a smirk. “What do you think?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “I think I want to kick everyone out,” he murmurs, “but I also think Robin would never let me live it down if I did.”

Eddie chuckles, pulls away. “Drink your water,” he suggests. “Let’s take some time, dance a little. Socialize. Let Robin know I’m here for a good time and a long time.”

Steve takes a few big gulps of water. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” he says slowly. “In the best way possible.”

Eddie grins sharply at him. “That’s the plan, big boy.”

He winks.

Steve gulps.

This is going to be fun.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Drawing the Line - Amanda the Adventurer fantape

Edit: The title sounded a bit to serious for this silly little fic

Previous Tape

Riley takes the next tape and puts it into the VCR. The tape glitches a bit before it starts to play. The episode begins with Amanda holding a bunch of coloring supplies before noticing Riley. 

“Hi Riley,” Amanda whispers, “Wanna color with me?” 

“Amanda? Where did you go? I think the episode is about to start!” Wooly calls out. Amanda makes a shushing motion with her finger and hides behind the couch. “Oh… hi Riley. Have you seen Amanda?” 

“Nope. Why don’t I wait here and you go find her for me.” 

“Huh? Well… okay…” Wooly says with uncertainty. He walks away. Amanda switches the tape to her bedroom. Her dresser is now against her door. 

“What’s going on?” Riley asks. 

“Nothing!” Amanda laughs nervously in an extremely quiet voice, “I just… you’re leaving after this tape right? Wooly told me. So… I wanted to spend some time with you… like… just you…”

“Okay? And?”

“I don’t want Wooly to feel bad.”

“So you’re barricading your door and hiding from him?” 

“Okay I see how that’s not the best plan…” Amanda sighs. 

“Did you get in a fight or something?” 

“No… it’s just… we hang out like… almost all the time… and like… I wanted a little me time you know? I mean he got an episode almost all to himself, why can’t I have mine?” 

“And he doesn’t want that?” 

“I don’t know… Wooly is… sensitive. He seems to take the littlest things the wrong way. When I tried to tell him I wanted some alone-time he got really upset… and we had so much fun yesterday… I don’t want to ruin it.” 

“I think if anything is going to ruin it, it’s deliberately avoiding him and never telling him why.” 

“Yeah… you’re probably right.” Amanda sighs. She teleports Wooly into the room. 

“Wha? Why am- Oh! Amanda there you are!” 

“Hi Wooly…” 

“What’s wrong?” Wooly asks. 

“Um… Wooly?” Amanda pauses, she looks at Riley nervously.

“Go on.” Riley says. 

“Okay… Wooly… remember how I talked about wanting some me-time?” 

“Yeah…?” 

“Well… I think I wanna just have an adventure drawing with Riley today.”

“What? Why? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No Wooly you didn’t do something wrong stop asking me that.” 

“Okay…” 

“Look, you don’t like drawing and you don’t like hanging out with Riley. Right?” Amanda asks.

“I guess so…” Don’t just admit that! Riley thinks. 

“I want some me-time and you get a day off. Win-win right?” Amanda explains. Wooly looks kind of sad, “C’mon Wooly please?” 

“I guess…” 

“Great!” Amanda beams, gently pushing him out of the room, “Have fun!” 

“Amanda…” 

“Shush. Today, we’re drawing some pictures!” Amanda announces, dropping to the floor and opening her sketchbook and crayons. “C’mon you too!” Riley turns around and sees their sketchbook and colored pencils on the table. 

“Alright.” Riley smiles. This could be fun. 

“You know I really like to draw, do you like to draw?” Amanda asks. Riley types in yes.

“Oh please, you don’t have to use that. Just talk to me, please?” 

“Yeah, I love to draw. Kind of what I do for a living actually.” Riley answers. Amanda’s eyes widen and her whole face lights up with curiosity. 

“Really?”

“Yeah I design and rig v-tuber models for people.” they explain. Amanda looks… completely confused. Oh yeah… v-tubers weren’t really a thing back then huh? “I um… design characters for people and make animated models they can use to make videos with?” That is the worst explanation ever…

“Wow that sounds neat! I wonder if I could’ve done that…”

“I’m sure you could with time and practice. Once you get out I could teach you-” 

“If I get out…” 

“Ah-” 

“Nevermind… forget I said anything.” 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s draw! I’m thinking of making… an apple pie! What colors should I use?” Riley clicks on the silver and tannish color. The colors of the apple pie they made together. Amanda smiles and starts to color.

“You draw something too!” 

“Like…” 

“Anything you want.” 

“Alright…” Riley starts to draw Amanda being free in the real world. They look up at Amanda’s drawing, now she’s drawing Kate. 

“Kate was really nice… I used to talk to her all the time… I really liked her…”

“Yeah…” 

“I miss her…” 

“Me too…” Riley sighs. They start sketching Kate into the picture… without even realizing it. 

“Her hair was blond right?” 

“Yeah…”

“What color is your hair Riley?” 

“Blond… like hers.” 

“Mmm…” Amanda starts sketching the lonely kitten in a train, “I’d draw you too, but I can’t really see what you look like. It’s… blurry…?”

“I see…”

“And I can’t.” Amanda jokes. Riley doesn’t get it. 

“Amandaaaaa! Want some snacks?” Wooly barges in. Amanda looks… annoyed. 

“Wooly… I told you to leave me alone!” 

“I know I just… thought you’d be hungry?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Oh… okay… Whatcha drawing?” 

“I’ll show you I’m done.” Amanda says, covering her sketchbook. 

“Okay…” Wooly walks away, leaving the door open. Amanda reaches over and swats it shut with the tip of her hand. 

“That was close, he almost saw my warm up sketches.” Amanda chuckles bashfully, opening a new page. 

“I know your pain.” Riley whimpers. Amanda starts a new drawing. “Remember that anime I showed you from my phone?” 

“Madoka Magica? Yeah I loved it!” Amanda laughs, “But Wooly was so mortified, we thought we killed him!”  

“Yeah like, what is he a hamster? Wait- So… Could you even see it?” 

“Yeah because it was really close to the screen…” Amanda says.

“So if I…” Amanda looks up and sees Riley’s face EXTREMELY close to the screen. She jumps back in surprise. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” she gasps. 

“Well, can you see what I look like now?” 

“I can see your ginormous face!” Amanda shouts. 

“Yeah?” 

“Back away Riley you’re freaking me out.” 

“Aww… I thought you could draw me too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll draw you… as… best I can.” Amanda says, catching her breath. 

“Okay…” 

“Hey Riley look! It’s me back when I was still Rebecca!” Amanda beams, showing the rough sketch. In the picture Riley sees Rebecca, getting a big hug from Sam and Kate. On the side of Kate, a somewhat off version of Riley and Sophie are holding hands. On the side of Sam is Wooly.

“Wooly looks a bit lonely huh?” 

“What do you mean, he’s got all of us!” 

“And… he’s still a sheep.” 

“Well… I don’t really know or remember what Wooly looked like when he was human so…” Amanda shrugs. 

“He just looks… left out.” 

“No no you don’t get it at all. See, Sam and Kate are my family, and Wooly is like… my brother… I guess…? And you guys are all my friends! I care about you a WHOLE lot. But like… not as much as my family you know.” 

“Well, me and Sophie are holding hands.” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want me to draw you kissing?” 

“Amanda… no… that���s not what I mean…” 

“Hmm… oooooh! I get it! What if I draw his sister?” Amanda suggests, “Remember, we saw her when Wooly’s memories were showing through the tapes that one time?” 

“But she’s… dead…” 

“So is Kate… and I still drew her here!” 

“I guess that’s true.” 

“She’s here in my heart! This picture will never come true anyway!” 

“What do you me-”

“Did you need any watercolors by chance?” Wooly asks. 

“Wooly…” 

“I found them in the living room and-” he sees Amanda glaring at him. “Sorry I’ll go.” Amanda waits till Wooly leaves and closes the door again. 

“It’s a picture… of when we escape…” Amanda sighs. “Well… my ideal of it anyway… you know… that I would be able to live with my dad… and talk to Kate… and hang out with you guys and Wooly… I bet in Wooly’s ideal world… his little sister would still be…” 

“Amanda…” 

“Just… let me have this little dream, okay?” Amanda asks, sounding like she’s going to cry. 

“Of course… but um… hey… Sophie and I were talking and… we were thinking… if we get you and Wooly out of here… we’d adopt you… and you can live with us…” Riley says. Amanda looks at them sadly in silence for bit before saying:

“Riley… if it turns out-” she stops. “Don’t ever mention this to Wooly okay?” 

“Okay…?” 

“Can you promise me something?” 

“Depends…” 

“Can you get me out of here… no matter what it takes?”

“Of course!” 

“Even if it means… will we disappear?” 

“What?”

“If it turns out that we can’t get out of here… back in the real world… if we can’t escape without disappearing… you would still let us out of here right?” 

“Amanda…” 

“You would still set us free, right?” 

“If that’s what you want…” Riley sighs, “if that would put your heart at peace…” Amanda smiles tearfully.

“Thank you Riley… 

“But… What about Wooly?” Riley wonders. Amanda freezes. 

“Would it… be bad if I said… that’s his decision?” Amanda questions, “Like… I don’t want to be here anymore… and while I’d hate to leave him here… I guess I’d get it if he wants to stay… I really am a bad friend huh? Here he is all worried that I’m gonna leave him behind and… if I really had the chance… a real chance to get out of this h--- I’d take it without a second thought.” 

“I mean… it’s complicated…” Riley hears a soft thud outside the door. 

“He’s got every right to be mad at me.” 

“I’m sure he’s not mad at you-”

“He is though… I overheard him talking to Sophie about it. When they had milk and cookies without me.” 

“They did what?” 

“I’m not mad… Wooly clearly just needed some time to himself too… which is why I don’t get why he’s so bent out of shape about me wanting some.” 

“That’s Wooly for you.” Riley sighs, unsure what else to say. 

“And I’ve been so patient with him lately. I know he’s been going through a hard time with his memories and all that. I know he’s not okay but like… I’m not either… and sometimes that’s frustrating because… I want someone to lean on too… It's like he relies on me too much. Like I have to be the strong one all the time.” 

“Am-”

“It’s the worst because he’s the older one! I… I need someone to talk to too… that’s why I like it when you’re around… or when it’s just us… those couple tapes we had… just us… that was great. Not that I don’t like having Wooly around… but every once and a while… I’d like to spend some time without him, you know?” 

“That’s fair…” Riley says.

“Then why does he make me feel like the bad guy?” Amanda wonders. 

“I do not!” Wooly protests on the other side of the door. Amanda walks over to the door and opens it. Wooly falls over on his back. “Oh… whoops. Hi Amanda…” he chuckles nervously. 

“Wooly!” Riley gasps, “You’re still here?” Riley suddenly panics, noticing Amanda looking angry. Really angry. 

“ONE TAPE! ONE FLIPPING TAPE WOOLY! THAT’S ALL I ASKED OF YOU!” Amanda screams, “YOU ACT LIKE THIS EVERY SINGLE TIME! Whenever you want some time to yourself it’s fiiiiine, you can just sneak off without me- but for the love of apples when I wanna have some me-time it’s the end of the world!” Wooly just stands there, kind of stunned. He doesn’t look like he knows what to say, he just looks… kind of angry. 

“Let’s talk about boundaries!” Riley interjects trying to stop another potential feud between them. They are just like siblings I swear. Amanda catches on, she takes a deep breath. 

“It is very important to respect people’s boundaries!” Amanda instructs. “You see, boundaries are rules we set with our friends and family to let them know how we like to be treated!” Amanda starts poking Wooly’s arm. 

“Amanda… Amanda what are you- stop that!” Wooly snaps. Amanda stops poking him.

“See, Wooly told me to stop. He’s setting a boundary.” Amanda explains, “And now I am respecting that boundary. When our boundaries don’t get respected, it can make us very upset. It’s important to explain our boundaries so we don’t get in fights.” Amanda turns to Wooly. “Wooly, I asked you if I could have some alone-time with Riley today. I really wanted to just be left alone. I was setting my boundaries. When you kept coming in and interrupting us, it made me very mad. Can you not do that please?” 

“Ok-okay…” Wooly mumbles awkwardly, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry…”

“Why did you keep coming in, Wooly?” Riley asks. Wooly seems a bit embarrassed by this question. 

“I just felt… kind of left out and… I’m not really used to having time to myself… I just got… kind of bored… and restless…” 

“You could clean the house.” Amanda suggested. “Plenty of people clean when they’re bored.” 

“But… nothing’s messy.” 

“Then make things messy.” 

“That sounds… wrong.” 

“Look Wooly, I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is that I really want to be left alone right now. Could you please respect that?” Amanda pleads. Wooly nods and leaves the room sadly. Amanda closes the door behind him. 

“You know you could’ve just invited him to draw with us.” 

“No. I’m putting my foot down. I’m setting a boundary.” 

“Good for you Amanda.” Riley says in a congratulatory way. She smiles and returns to coloring in her picture. 

“I didn’t ask you many questions this episode huh?”

“That’s fine.” Riley shrugs. Amanda quietly sits there coloring and Riley resumes their coloring. It’s a peaceful quiet shared between two friends enjoying an activity together. Amanda seems to enjoy this quite a lot, as she is smiling the entire time. Eventually, both their pictures were done. 

“Well you already knew what I drew! It’s all of us! When we escape! Far away from anywhere where Hameln could ever hurt us…” 

“I guess we had the same idea…” Riley smirks, showing their picture close to the screen. “It’s me and Sophie giving you and Wooly a big hug when we get you out of there.” 

“Aww Riley…” Riley couldn’t see her face, but they could hear the happiness in her voice. “I like spending time with you… if… so… when you go promise me you’ll stay safe okay?”

“I promise.”

“Good… and if we can’t escape. Could you just… keep watching the tapes? Keep spending time with us forever… I know it’s a lot to ask.” Riley pulls the picture away and sees Amanda crying a bit. 

“Of course I will. I’d love to.”

“Let’s hang these up.” She smiles tearfully. Before they leave the room Amanda wipes her tears and shouts: “Wooly! I’m done drawing, do you wanna see?” 

“Uuuuh… I’m having a bubble bath right now, maybe later.” 

“You better not use all my bubble bath.” Amanda responds. An awkward silence is heard. 

“Um… enjoy your time with Riley Amanda… I uh… got an errand to run…” 

“One of these days I’m going to drown that sheep.” Amanda grumbles to Riley. The tape changes to the kitchen, where Amanda takes out the drawings from her sketchbook and hangs them up. There are more drawings than what she showed to Riley. There’s one of Amanda and Wooly holding hands in front of a big open door. She doesn’t explain that one. “Thanks for hanging out with me today Riley. Come back soon.” 

“I will.” Riley says. Amanda smiles at them and the tape ends, falling out of the VCR. The title has changed to “Let’s Talk About Boundaries.” Riley turns around and finds two pictures on the table. The one they drew… and Amanda’s picture that says: To Riley and Sophie. Love, Amanda. Under it is the next tape Stargazing. Riley heads upstairs and hangs the picture on Sophie’s fridge. 

“So… how did it go?” 

“We had to teach Wooly a lesson about boundaries before Amanda tried to kill him again.”

“Oh so you can be a responsible adult sometimes then.” 

“Shut up.” Riley laughs. 

“What cute pictures. Amanda drew this one?” 

“Yeah… I don’t know how she managed to give it to me though. I just turned around and it was there… She also changed the episode title.”

“Interesting… I’ll have to write that down in my notebook.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Riley? Do you have to go?” Sophie asks, hugging Riley from behind. 

“This lead… could change everything. It’s… remember when Amanda said that Kate almost found a way for them to leave?” 

“Didn’t we confirm that it won’t work?” 

“Yeah but it was close right? If we find out exactly what that is… we might be able to find a better solution ourselves…” 

“And what’s the end goal here?” 

“Get them out of there…”  

“And defeat Hameln?” 

“I’m going to be honest… I don’t think we can.” 

“Riley…” 

“I mean… Kate and her friend’s couldn’t beat them. Sam couldn’t. The police… the media… Sophie… this cult has existed since the middle ages… thousands of people probably tried to stop them… if they couldn’t… I doubt we could. I just want us to be safe.” 

“So… what’s the plan?”

“Get Amanda and Wooly out of the tapes… even if it means that the most we can do is just free their souls… and the souls of the other kids if we can. Best case scenario we find a way so that Hameln can never do this to anyone again… but defeat Hameln… no… I think it’s best to be as realistic about this as possible.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“I think this is the best we can do…” Riley sighs, Sophie looks at them with worry. “We can stop if you want.” 

“What?!” 

“Do you want to give up?” Riley asks, “I don’t want to force you… force us… into danger if you don’t want it.” 

“Riley… but what about Amanda…?” Sophie questions. Riley looks at her sadly. 

“I… I don’t know… I don’t know what to do… I want to help her but…” they glance at Amanda’s picture and the tears start running down. “I don’t know if I can…” Sophie bites her lip. 

“Hey… it’s okay. We will find a way…” Sophie says softly, “And I’ll be right here with you… through it all…” she glances at the calendar. “Actually, why don’t you stay here? I have no work this weekend. You finish the tapes… I’ll go look into that lead for you.” 

“But Sophie-”

“These people all knew me through my mom… but Hameln doesn’t. I won’t be in any danger… and I won’t have to worry about you.”

“It’s just a day Sophie-” 

“Exactly… look at you… look how tired you are.” Sophie claps Riley’s face in her hands, “Let me be a part of this.”  

“Sophie…” 

“Besides… I’m waaaay better at research than you.” She grins, dangling her notebook in Riley’s face. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Promise. You get some rest… play with Amanda some more. She needs you.” 

“I need you.” Riley responds. Sophie just smiles and gives Riley a kiss on the forehead. 

“This too shall pass. Now let’s watch those secret tapes and see what we can find.” 

Authors Note: Riley is still the main character after all. Guess what? I made an apple pie today :3

Next Tape:

[hippolotamus]

"Are you going to be okay?" + Bucktommy

No. No, I am not 😭 Please remember this is an angst prompt and that I love you so, so much 💞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your smile and the sound of your voice | T | 1.2k

“Are you going to be okay, Buckaroo?” 

Hen taps the neck of her beer against his and nudges his shoulder. 

“Yeah, of course.” He checks his phone again and sees the text he’s been waiting for from Eddie.

Be there in 5

“Yeah,” he says again, brighter and easier. Like he’s suddenly got more room to breathe.

She fondly rolls her eyes, letting him know she’s not buying it but she’s here for him all the same. 

His gut twists with nerves, like he inhaled an entire roll of Mentos and chased it with a two liter of Coke. He’s fine, though. He’s more than likely tachycardic, and he’s sweating like a pig, but he’s good. Honestly. 

Why wouldn’t he be? His family is supporting him through one of the more dramatic moves he’s ever tried to pull off. And he didn’t have to say a word for them to buy into his unhinged plan. They just- did. Albeit with many unvoiced concerns communicated in shared glances and whatever telepathy thing Hen and Chim have going on. Still, they’re here and he’s so, so grateful. He’ll want them to celebrate or if… well, he just needs them either way.

He taps his foot nervously, gripping the karaoke mic tighter and watching the seconds tick by on his watch. And then he sees him. His world stops when Tommy notices him. Their gaze locks across the room like one of those cheesy rom coms that Tommy loves. The kind they’d watch on the couch, or in bed together on a lazy afternoon. Buck wishes it was actually one of those meet cute moments where the main characters have a love at first sight experience. 

Instead, Eddie and Chim are nudging Tommy towards the front of the bar, urging him not to turn and run. All so Buck can cut his heart open and bleed out on the stage for him – for them – and hope he has enough time before his veins run dry. 

Tommy reluctantly sits on the bar stool strategically placed front and center. He’s flanked by Eddie, Chim, Maddie, Hen, Karen and Josh like a group of off kilter secret service agents. And yet he’s still looking at Buck with this mix of adoration and exasperation. Like nothing changed and he’s just here to watch his boyfriend be an idiot.

Buck’s heart pounds behind his ribcage and it’s all he can do to stay standing. He takes a swig of his beer, not that it does much when his mouth feels drier than the Sahara. Hopefully Tommy will understand needing a little liquid courage if only because he knows how much Buck hates singing in public. 

“Ready?” The DJ asks him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Buck’s eyes flick to the screen, knowing his piece begins immediately. There’s no intro or lead up. Just Buck and whatever’s left of his dignity. 

“If you change your mind-” he winces as his voice cracks, “I’m the first in line. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

Christ, it’s so off key but he’s on a roll now and gaining confidence with every note. 

“Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie, if you put me to the test, if you let me try!” Buck sweeps his free hand over his torso, peacocking in every sense of the word.

Tommy scrubs at his face, looking for all the world like he wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Not that Buck blames him. 

“Please don’t make this harder.” Tommy sighs. Silently begs with a pleading look. 

Buck sings louder to drive the point home. “You want me to leave it there, afraid of a love affair. But I think you knoooow, that I can’t let go.” 

Even with Tommy’s palm covering his mouth, Buck can still see the smile glowing in those blue eyes he always wants to stay lost in. 

He steps off the stage, flirty and confident as his friends make room for him to circle the man he’s over the goddamn moon about. The man he’s so fucking in love with that he’s willing to humiliate himself in front of their colleagues. “You say that I waste my time, but I can’t get ya off my mind. No, I can’t let goooo. ‘Cause I love you so.” 

Buck shrugs playfully, drinking in the embarrassed smirk he’s so familiar with. Just one of the dozens of expressions he’s catalogued over their months together. And tortured himself with in the weeks since Tommy broke his heart. Both of their hearts, really. 

By now, the crowd is clapping and cheering him on as he sings his lungs out, strutting around like the lovesick fool that he is. 

“Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me!” 

The song fades out, coming to an end as he slides on his good knee. He stops in front of Tommy, panting and flushed, baring his soul for everyone at the badge and ladder to see. Except he only needs one person to see it. To see everything and not be terrified.

“I know I fucked up before and I- I rushed things. And I know this isn’t how any of this should have happened. But you wouldn’t answer me or- or return my calls or texts.” His jaw trembles, voice breaking as tears drip off his chin. “You can take your time, baby. I’m in no hurry.” 

Buck risks reaching for Tommy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Tommy. Sweetheart. Take a chance on me. Again. Please.”

It feels like a truce, like a fresh beginning. Like the start of something.

“Evan.” 

Buck’s blood fizzes like champagne, bursting with hope. Tommy smiles, a lopsided thing, and oh Buck can hardly sit still long enough to hear what comes next. But he has to, he needs to be patient. Not impulsive, not like before. 

“Buck,” Tommy corrects. 

The world seems to collapse around him. His chosen name sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Like a sour note in an otherwise beautiful aria. 

A tear escapes, rolling down Tommy’s cheek, past his now wobbly lip. “I wish I could. This is- it’s sweet and no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” Tommy looks up at the ceiling, just like he did that night in the loft, and then meets Buck’s gaze again. “You are gonna be someone’s once in a lifetime. I just know it. But not-” There’s a strangled sound between them, from god knows where. Maybe it’s Buck, maybe it’s Tommy. Maybe it’s both. 

“I’m sorry,” Tommy whispers. 

In a blink, Buck’s hand is empty and Tommy’s weaving through the crowd. Leaving him all over  again.

“No, wait! Hold on!” Buck drops the microphone, ready to chase after him this time. Like he didn’t before. Like he should have. He apologizes as he knocks into tables and past servers until he’s finally out in the cool night air. He licks the salty tears from his lips, frantically searching in every direction. It hasn’t been that long. Buck was seconds behind. Tommy has to be here. 

But he’s not. There’s no sign of him in the crowds of people walking by. People laughing and talking and living their lives with fully formed hearts. All of them ignorant to Buck and his despair. 

“Wait,” he rasps, falling to his knees in the middle of the filthy LA sidewalk. “Please wait.” 

[forestfrolickingfairy78]

LU Wild x Reader Part 3: Sharing stories

Okay, I forgot how long this piece was but I'll be slowly putting it up every week. Part three yayyy we get to meet Malon hehe! Sorry its a bit short, I actually need to edit some parts so there's extra work to do but here we goooo

Start here!

Malon and Link’s house is adorable, it’s the cutest little place tucked away in a farm, looking over the forest and rest of castle town. Just stepping underneath the expanse of the blue sky makes me want to live here.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so jealous of your house!” I can’t contain my excitement, wrapping my hands together. A few moments later the door opens, and a beautiful woman steps out, Time is smiling, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy. She reaches her arms around him, both melting into each other. I can’t help admiring them, tilting my head at the endearing look they share. My gaze falls towards Wild for a moment, raising a slight brow in mockery and nudges my arm.

“I can’t lie, their adorable.” I say, echoing the sentiment everyone else is probably feeling. Most of us are staring in pure admiration, watching them pull away. Time places a soft kiss against Malon's head.

“It feels like forever,” she says, letting go then stares at the rest of us, a hand against her hip before landing her eyes on me.

“Oh! I you must be y/n," Link wrote about you so much to me, come in the rest of you.” I look towards Link, finally this time the old man actually smiles at me, to my relief. I almost let out an audible sigh.

“Told you he was fine.” Wild whispered. I roll my eyes, continuing inside as they lead us into their home. It’s so cozy, and there’s already a whole table full of food set up for us. For a long moment we just let them be, sitting around as we all hungrily stare at the plates. Neither of us reaching for food, striving to be polite. Wild pouts, and Legend reaches his hand out before Sky swats his arm.

“Not yet! Can’t you just be a little patient?” it all makes us laugh, but then my stomach cramps. Hungrily.

“Oh! You guys can all eat, what are you waiting for? We’ll be there in a moment.” Her eyes are still on Time’s, it’s almost like he’s forgotten the rest of us exist. I can’t blame him really, but I still keep looking towards them.

Perfect, their so perfect together.

Again I catch Wild glancing towards me, a smirk growing on his face until I snap out of it, realising their all looking at me. A blush spreads across my face, embarrassed.

“What’s up with you? Daydreaming about having a life like that?” I kick Wild’s leg, a few others noticing, like Twilight.

“Ew, no? what on earth.” I stutter, not coming out the way I intended at all.

“Isn’t it what everyone wants? It’s cool to explore the world but at the end of the day something like this is peaceful…well having someone.” Sky says, hand against his cheek. I keep my face non chalant, but it’s true. And knowing I may not ever get it, really stings.

"that’s so lame.” Legend rolls his eyes, but the others are quiet.

“It definitely warrants that, and who are you lying too? We know how much you miss-“ Sky gives Warriors a cautionary glance, softening his expression as Legend looks genuinely hurt. I’m still quiet, staring below at the floors.

For the rest of the evening Malon kindly asks us questions, about where we’re from. And me, which is a little hard to explain granted I sort of jumped through a well and ended up here.

“Do you think you’ll stay?” she poses the question casually, and everyone looks at me.

“Aha well…I don’t really know yet. It would be nice to stay, but then everyone else will have to go back home at some point, and I suppose my home isn’t really here.” The realisation hurts, and suddenly I don’t have a huge appetite anymore. Time looks at me sympathetically, and Wild also softens, knowing how I truly feel about Twilight right now. He may already have someone in mind anyway right? Best to keep expectations low.

“Whew! I’m kind of full, I think I’ll go for a walk. Would it be okay if I walk?” I push my plate forward, clearing my throat. The tension is making my face heat.

��Oh of course, just don’t wander too far. I’d hate for you to run into a monster at this time.” Time almost looks traumatised just as before, but Wild chips in once again.

“I can come!” I look at him, surprised, but suppose it would be good to talk. He’s really the only one I can sort of confide in right now.

“Sure.”

It’s cold, really cold around here that’s worse than the camp night. I’m shivering, pulling my sleeves while looking up at the moon, remembering that story Time told us about how it had almost fallen and crushed the entire world. It still feels like a silly fable, but then again this whole chance to be in Hyrule is pretty unbelievable.

“So that’s the moon in question? It looks friendly.” Wild says, staring up at while removing his cape, placing it over my shoulders. I freeze, holding onto the end then glance towards him, holding onto the fabric. It carries the scent of peppermint and wood, all the adventures he told us around the fire lingering in this fabric.

“What- aren’t you cold?” I say, letting my hand down. He puffs out his chest, albeit very much freezing and not doing a good job of hiding it.

“I’ve braved snow capped mountains in this tunic, this is nothing.” His teeth chatter, but I giggle.

“Alright, if you’re sure, hero. Also, the moon looks like cheese to me.”

“Cheese?”

“See the craters?”

“Well if I look too long I’m afraid it might start to resemble a face. Do you think the old man was serious about the moon falling?” I give him an incredulous look.

“Do I? at this point anything is possible for me.”

“Oh…right. I mean in my world it turned red. A very, aggressive and blood sort of red. Then at exactly midnight all the creatures and monsters I slayed came back to life." He narrates his story again, walking through the fields while I listen intently watching his eyes colour with intensity.

Once we're closer to the edge of a hill, We come to a stop, overlooking the town square, quiet at this time with a few fires flickering distantly. My stomach churns, the lingering realisation becoming more prominent each day that all this will fade. Wild stops talking, facing me.

“Wait sorry- I forgot about your world-“ he says quietly, "Tell me about it!" I'd been pushing away any thoughts about home, even though I'd come from there, part of me never felt like I'd belonged.

"Nothing too interesting to talk about, really." His expression fades, curiousity dimming. "Really? I thought you were a writer though, I'm sure you've got some stories to share." They weren't worth speaking about here, I'd told them about my journals, all the books I'd read but to tell them something from my life still felt like a raw wound. Stories were best shared as scars, but mine hadn't quite healed yet.

"Umm, I don't really want to, sorry." I mumble, but he smiles again.

"Oh well, but I'm going to hold you to it. You owe me!"