#sorry for the lack of content but I was busy the last few days and yesterday I took the time to draw akcnfckamdalskandaixj

[ariesangelxo]

okay so i was thinking something like rafe always gives like reader butt pats and she’s gotten used to it so much that she can’t go a day without it. so one day rafe doesn’t do it and she automatically thinks he’s mad at her but rafes not he just does the but pats without thinking. so then their whole day goes along with them fighting abt small things till rafe asks her what’s wrong and they make up🤗

🌶️anon!

rafe cameron x fem reader

minors & ageless blogs dni

cw: a bit of angst, a lil bit of comfort in the end. some suggestive content, spanking, reader is an overthinker, reader also isn’t good about talking abt her feelings

a/n: i’m sorry this took so long! i hope i did this justice <33

being by rafe’s side was ninety percent of your daily routine. he’d asked you to move into tannyhill not long after ward passed, and being his loving girlfriend that doted on his every step, you did.

you couldn’t have been happier to spend nearly all of your time with him. rafe treated you like a princess. despite his rough reputation around outerbanks, you knew him to be the most loving man you’d ever met.

he could tell when you were upset, the small tells of you avoiding eye contact and biting down on your bottom lip made it obvious to him when you needed him most. he was usually able to get you back to your sweet and happy self with just focusing his attention on you. his touch, his voice, his presence, it comforted you in ways nothing else could.

rafe always gave you small pats on your ass throughout the day. it was something you’d grown accustomed to and you adored it. it was one of those little things he did that unknowingly made your heart swell. his casual dominance allowed you to turn your brain off, every thought in your pretty head revolved around him.

today, however, had been a bit different. it started with him not giving you the normal pat when you got out of bed this morning. you didn’t think too much of it, figuring he was probably concerned with work-related emails on his phone.

then it was the lack of attention while you made him breakfast. you enjoyed your small housewife-like duties. rafe walked into the kitchen, leaning his back against the granite countertop. but when he didn’t come up behind you and place a sweet kiss against your neck while aggressively claiming your ass as his, a slight pout formed on your lips. rafe was too engrossed in his phone to notice it though.

when you put a plate of food in front of him, he barely looked up to give you a half smile. you quickly went back to busying yourself in the kitchen, trying to keep your mind away from the anxious thoughts beginning to swirl around.

much to your dismay, washing the dishes wasn’t helping. did you do something wrong? could you have said something last night that, unintentionally of course, upset him? were you being too clingy? was it really just work?

you let out a deep sigh as you finished drying off a frying pan. “you okay?” rafe called out to you.

you turned to look at him, placing a small smile on your face that was definitely not genuine. “yeah, ‘m fine.”

he didn’t look satisfied with your answer, but he didn’t push any further. you didn’t want to share any of your current thoughts. if it was really only him being stressed with the business, you would feel bad for assuming otherwise. you didn’t want to overthink small things, but it was one of your unhealthy habits.

shortly after eating and cleaning up, you were upstairs in your shared room getting ready to go to the country club with rafe. he’d made plans a few days ago to go golfing with topper and kelce, naturally, you were going. rafe brought you with him almost everywhere.

you put on a short white tennis skirt, one that you knew drove him wild, along with a tight pink tank top. as you finished applying your layer of lip gloss, you looked yourself over in the mirror. there was no way rafe could resist giving you a firm slap on the ass when it looked so good in the tiny skirt.

“c’mon, kid. don’t have all day here.” he called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“‘m coming,” you responded, grabbing your small pink purse and heading down.

you walked out of the bedroom with a big smile on your face, nearly skipping down the hall. once you got to the top of the stairs, rafe looked up, giving you a quick smirk.

he held the door open for you on the way out of the house, and of course as you got into his truck, but still hadn’t given you a single pat today. you were genuinely beginning to grow concerned at this point. you could brush off not getting them when you got out of bed or while making breakfast, but when he didn’t give you one while you walked out of the front door, swaying your hips, or stepping up into his truck, purposely bending over so your mini skirt rode up? that was extremely unusual.

you buckled yourself in, leaning your knees closer to the door than him and stared out the window.

“you have an attitude?” he questioned you, his tone having a bit of edge to it.

“nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’, “‘m fine.”

you glanced over just in time to see rafe rolling his eyes. he didn’t verbally say anything, but his actions spoke loud enough for you.

you crossed your arms, childishly leaning further into the door to put what distance you could between the two of you. rafe let out a sigh, but still didn’t say anything.

the short drive to the country club was filled with tension. it was uncomfortably silent, neither of you speaking a word to each other.

rafe stepped out of the truck when you arrived, slamming his door shut a bit harder than usual. he still came to your side though, opening up the door for you to step out. he once again didn’t offer any touch to you. your heart sank, you truly didn’t know what was going on.

he grabbed his clubs from the back, walking ahead of you to go meet topper and kelce on the course. you followed behind, slow and stubbornly, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed with a pout on your lips.

you sat in the passenger seat, legs and arms crossed as your manicured nails tapped against your bicep in an irritated manner. you looked cranky, and you knew it based on the looks topper and kelce gave rafe when you initially followed behind him. you usually wore a bright smile and clung to rafe’s side, excitedly greeting the boys.

“what’s goin’ on with her?” you heard topper ask rafe. he attempted to keep his volume low so you wouldn’t hear, but with his naturally loud voice, he failed miserably.

your eyebrow quirked up. you were curious to hear rafe’s response.

“no fuckin’ clue.” rafe grumbled out, trying to focus on his swing. you rolled your eyes, it was his fault you were in a bad mood. he’s the one that’s been neglecting you since you woke up.

topper glanced over at you, letting out a slight laugh at your pouting. rafe’s eyes followed, he pinched his nose in annoyance.

he walked up to the cart where you were sitting, crossing his arms as he looked down at you.

“okay, kid. what’s goin’ on? why are you pouting?”

you let a small scoff out, furrowing your brows, “don’t act so interested now just because your friends noticed.”

rafe was taken aback at your tone. you never spoke to him with an attitude like that. his eyes narrowed, looking at you in a way that made you feel minuscule.

“you can lose that little attitude you’ve got goin’ on, now.” his voice was stern, dripping with annoyance. you wanted to disappear, you were so frustrated that he didn’t understand he was the reason for your attitude.

you looked away from him, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes as you said nothing and stared forward, not particularly focusing on anything.

rafe muttered a “whatever.” before walking back to where topper and kelce were.

you did feel bad for having an attitude, but the way you felt like you were being rejected by him made you want to shut down. it made you want to disappear from the face of the earth for a while. you felt embarrassed, upset, and now overwhelmed with your brain going into overthinking.

you didn’t say a word to any of the men as they played through the course. not even when rafe would get into the drivers seat and bring you two to the next hole.

you instead spent that time biting down harshly on the inside of your lip, fighting to keep the tears of frustration from falling past your eyes. you tried to focus on literally anything else, but the constant noise of thoughts swirling through your brain made it impossible.

they’d wrapped up the last hole. you heard rafe saying something about possibly meeting them around the country club after for lunch.

you refused to look up at him, even when he started heading your way. you missed the way he wore a half smirk as he looked at your pouting figure. he knew you were upset about something, but you weren’t great about vocalizing your feelings.

“d’you want to go back to the restaurant for lunch?”

“don’t care,” you muttered out, looking down at your nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“well, your options are either that or we can go home. your choice, kid.” he wasn’t feeding into your baiting tone, and that just irritated you further.

“said i don’t care, rafe.”

“s’okay. we can go home and you can take a nap, because you clearly need one.” he rounded the golf cart, hopping into the driver’s seat as he brought you back to the entrance.

you got out before he could, beginning to storm your way to his truck.

“hey! slow the fuck down. you know you don’t walk into a busy ass parking lot without me.” he called out to you.

you halted, but didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. you mumbled an “okay, asshole.” under your breath, not thinking he’d hear.

boy, were you wrong. it took a matter of seconds for rafe to be in front of you, one of his large hands squishing your cheeks as he moved jaw up to look at him, “wanna say that again, princess?” he said challengingly.

you didn’t respond. wrong answer. his nostrils flared as he squinted at you. he gripped your wrist, harshly dragging you to where the truck was parked. he brought you around to the passenger door where it blocked onlookers from the country club from seeing you.

“i don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on with you today. but i will not put up with this shit in front of others. you know i- i have a reputation to uphold here, right? you think it looks good on me for others to see my girl being a bitch towards me, huh?”

your lip wobbled as tears began to fill your eyes. you wanted to look away, to look anywhere besides his mean stare, but his rough hand on your face wouldn’t allow it.

“no!” you cried out, “just- just wanted your affection. dunno why you’re mad at me.” you whimpered out, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

“kid. why do you think i’m mad at you?” he quirked an eyebrow inquisitively.

“b-because you haven’t given me a single pat today! ‘nd you give me them everyday!”

he closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale to calm himself.

“you think i’m mad at you because i haven’t smacked your ass today?”

when he said it like that, it sounded stupid. but it felt like so much more than that to you.

he rolled his eyes, using his hands to wipe away the tears on your face. he made sure you were looking at him, “sweetheart, ‘m not mad at you. i’ve been busy with some clients that aren’t following through on their payments today.”

you looked at him hopefully, hiccuping as you brought your hands up on his.

“do you pinky promise you’re not mad at me?” you asked him softly, holding out one of your pinkies.

“pinky promise. but you’re not gonna be able to sit tomorrow with the spanking you’re getting when we get home.” he reached out his pinky, stifling back a smirk as he intertwined them.

“m’kay!” you responded happily, the tears stopping and a smile appearing on your face.

he opened up the passenger door, holding his hand out to help you get in before he gave your bottom a firm pat and buckled you in.

he chuckled to himself as he rounded the truck, “all that attitude because she didn’t get her ass smacked, huh?”

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

adjustments (paige x reader)

summary: you and paige just started dating but you’re not used to signs of affection

content warnings: none

You grew up in less than ideal circumstances. Moving from foster family to foster family, constantly changing schools, having to pack up and start life all over again in different states and cities. You lacked everything that your peers had. No best friends, no family, no stability. Nothing in your life was consistent, you used to try and fight it but as you got older you started to think maybe that’s how you would be forever, alone in this big world with no one to lean on when you needed them.

Going to college changed that though, you knew you’d be in one place for years, seeing the same people everyday, building routines and friendships and relationships. It scared you. It scared because it was new. It felt like you were learning to live again, learning to trust. You were experiencing things at eighteen for the first time that most people experienced when they were eight.

When you met Paige, you dreamed of her being your best friend. She showed you love and compassion and care. She asked you questions you’d never been asked before. She made time in her busy schedule to see you. She introduced you to her friends and they quickly became yours too. She was your best friend and then she wasn’t. She was confessing her feelings for you and you were confused. You didn’t understand. Paige was acting like what you imagined a best friend would but saying she wanted more.

You were forced to be honest with Paige because you liked her and didn’t want to lose her. She was understanding and said she was happy to take things slow, at a pace that was comfortable for you. But it didn’t take you long to realise you shared the same feelings for her and you’ll never forget the smile on her face when she asked you to be her girlfriend and you said yes.

You’ll also never forget the way she frowned and chewed on her bottom lip when she pulled you into a hug, pressing her lips to your forehead and you jumped away.

“I’m sorry. No one- no ones ever done that to me before.” You had admitted.

Paige being Paige understood and reassured you that it didn’t make her feel any differently towards you. You guys could take things as slow as you wanted.

You had been dating for almost a month now and your heart still raced at the slightest of touches, your skin tingled every time she was close to you and you’d pulled away from every kiss after just a few seconds, the feeling being too much, too quickly.

Never in your life have you craved a hug, never have you wanted someone so close you almost mesh into one but you’d had a bad day and all you could think about was being in Paiges arms.

“Oh hi baby.” Paige smiles as she opens her apartment door to you.

You had come round unannounced, straight from your last class of the day.

“Hi.” You whisper, voice almost breaking as you do.

“What’s up?” Paige asks, brows furrowed as you walk inside.

“Bad day. Could I- could I have a hug?” You ask and your hands shake as you do, this was a foreign feeling for you but it would be for Paige too. She wasn’t used to you asking for hugs or even wanting to be touched.

“Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. C’mere.” She coos, arms opening immediately for you to walk into.

Paige encapsulates you in a tight hug, her arms firm and strong around your body, her chin rested on your head. It takes you a moment to hug her back but eventually your arms snake around her waist and you squeeze her, never wanting to let go.

“Is this OK?” Paige checks in.

“More than.” You reply, voice muffled from the way your face is buried in her chest.

“Let’s go to my room.” Paige says letting you go and you already want to feel her again so you slip your hand into hers as she leads you through her apartment.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but cuddles always help me after a bad day.” She says sitting on the edge of her bed, hand still linked in yours.

“I’ve never cuddled with anyone before.”

“Will you let me show you what it’s like?” She asks tenderly.

You nod and Paige shuffles back on her bed so she’s laying down, propped up slightly by a few pillows. She taps the space next to her and you slip your shoes off before climbing onto the bed.

“Here, shuffle down. Put your head on my chest.”

You do as she says and it takes you a second to find a comfortable position, nestled into Paige but once you do it feels like you’re two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly. One of her hands is running through your hair and the other trails up and down your arm and you feel as though you’re floating, the events of the day washing away with each stroke.

“That feels nice.” You murmur as you move your arm to rest over Paiges stomach.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She agrees.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me baby. You don’t need to earn my affection. Not now, not ever.” Your heart pangs at her words and suddenly you want to touch her. Every part of her. You want her skin under your fingertips, her lips on yours and you want it now.

You look up at Paige who’s already looking down at you and you bring your hand up to her face, gently stroking her jaw and her eyes flutter shut. Your finger traces up and over her brow bone, down her nose and across her lips, “You’re so beautiful.” You breathe out, heart racing.

Paige is quick to prop herself up and her hand finds your hip and positions you so you’re fully laying down. You gasp at the sudden movement, “Is this O-” Paige begins.

“How about I let you know when it’s not OK? Just keep going.”

Paige is straddling you now, knees at either side of your waist. Her hands start on your face, pushing your hair back, they trail down your neck and your breathing increases as they palm over your chest and down your stomach, “I’ve dreamed of this.” She rasps, her tongue running along her bottom lip as she looks down at you, eyes hooded and needy.

“Kiss me…please.” You practically beg, your hands now planted on Paiges thighs.

She leans down and kisses the tip of your nose and your eyes close as her lips find yours in a gentle, passionate kiss. Her lips are soft and plump against yours and you can’t hold back the throaty moan as her tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste her and it’s euphoric. She detaches her mouth from yours only to press kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Fuck…her lips on your neck feel so good. You hold her head in place as she sucks and nips at the sensitive skin before poking out her tongue to soothe the spot.

She moves down to kiss your collarbone, her hands are under your shirt and yours are in her hair, “You’re so perfect.” She groans, eyes flicking up to look at you and you let her head go, hands frantically pulling your shirt up and over your head tossing it onto the floor.

“Shit.” Paige hisses as her eyes trail down your exposed torso. She leans down, peppering kiss up your stomach and your head flies back at the feeling. “Don’t stop.” You plead and she doesn’t until you feel as though every inch of your skin has been touched by her lips.

Your hands are having a field day exploring your girlfriends body, you squeeze her flexed biceps as she hovers over you and you tug at the neckline of her shirt wanting it off. She removes it in one swift movement so you’re both left if your bras. Your fingers trace over her toned abs and she flops down next to you, taking your hand and guiding it over her stomach, “I love feeling your hands on me baby.” She tells you softly.

“I love having my hands on you. I can’t believe it took me this long.” You say pressing a kiss to Paiges shoulder.

“I would’ve waited longer. As long as you needed.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: bro 😔 starting to feel touch starved like reader. ive been single so long

[monarchberrysblog]

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭

18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.

Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)

Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)

Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.

To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.

Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.

You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?

"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"

The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.

"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.

Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.

As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.

/

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.

The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.

The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.

A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.

"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.

You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.

"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.

As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.

The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."

"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.

"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.

"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.

He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."

Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.

His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.

His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"

Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.

"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.

"I want it…"

"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.

"I want your cock… please."

After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.

Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"

"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"

You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.

"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."

It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"

He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.

"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.

/

The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.

Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"

The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."

It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.

His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.

“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”

“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”

The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.

The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”

With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.

“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…

“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.

“Pizza it is, then.”

[samkerrworshipper]

the lawn is dead. pt.2

hi! i wrote a part 2! i’m on a unofficial hiatus but had some inspiration the last few days and had to finish this. hope it provides a little bit more comfort then the last chapter .. sorry xo

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm themes, themes of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts. viewer discretion advised.

You can describe the carpet of this office better then most people can describe themselves.

It’s a rug, for the most part, except for the where it’s clear a person has chosen laziness in favour of lifting up the heavier furniture to place the rug down underneath it. Where the rug doesn’t cover, there is bleak grey carpet that feels more boring then the time you spend in this room.

Where the carpet lacks in literally everything, the rug makes up for it blindingly.

It’s a messy mixture of far too many colours, pinks, purples, blues, greens and neutrals. It doesn’t make any sense in your mind, why somebody would chose for the focal point of their room to be a rug that doesn’t match with any of the furniture. It’s another sign that the furniture came before the rug, all of the furniture is dark mahogany, beautiful pieces that look as if they’ve come from and English period piece, whereas the rug looks so modern it’s almost painful.

The rest of the furniture has been picked with similar taste.

The painting on the wall looks like what a child would vomit after going to a birthday party. Every time you’ve come here you’ve had a new analogy, but this week that is the one, it looks like stomach contents and you can’t get past it, to the point it’s made you physically nauseated.

From the painting moves onto the bookshelf, where there is a odd mix of medical textbooks, classics and selfawareness books, all stacked in such disarray that you have to keep your eyes away because it makes you uncomfortable.

Beyond the furniture is your psychologist, with her stupid fucking note pad, stupid glasses perched on the very tip of her nose and stupidly calm face that never really changed.

She was supposed to be a specialist, the best of the best, supposed to be the greatest and getting to the bottom of the most famous athletes problems and yet you found pride in alluding her.

One hour, every four days was what you were down to now, a couple of weeks ago it had been every other day and that had been fucking torture.

Sometimes all you wanted to do was rip her eyeballs out, or her brains, or something else. You swore she made your ears bleed and your will to live deteriorate with every second and it was already pretty low.

“You can’t avoid my question forever.”

It was also that annoying tone that sent you, the sort of tone that meant she knew that technically for the whole of the hour she could ask you whatever she pleased and you were technically supposed to answer her. Defiance on your end just ended up in you being suspended from something else that made your life just a tiny bit more liveable.

“No, I haven’t talked to Mapi yet.”

You’ve been avoiding it, there have bits and pieces of homework from your therapist, but this one is by far the hardest.

“How about Alexia, how does she feel about that.”

You don’t want to tell her that you and Alexia are in shambles as it is, add on the pressure of her best friend being psychologically destroyed because of you and just talking about any of it at all and it’s like dynamite.

“Supportive.”

Your therapist nods, but in the way that you know she doesn’t quite believe you.

“Have you started to reintegrate with the team? I know last time we talked you mentioned that before the incident you’d been feeling quite isolated because of your ankle injury. It’s important that you start to normalise your life again before you start to self isolate.”

You don’t call it self-isolation, you like to call it self protection. You protect yourself by pushing against the grain, by keeping to yourself. It’s a lot easier that way.

“I’ve been busy.”

It’s a lie and a blatant one, your days are filled with complete nothingness. You can’t play football, not until she clears you, and you know that it’s not going to happen anytime soon based on the trend of your current sessions. There has been the same amount of progress as there was two weeks ago when you started with her. You shut down at every attempt she makes to try and open you up, you talk when you have to. It’ll probably get you sent back to a ward. You don’t remember much from your transition from the hospital to home, but you do remember signing something that referred to you making significant process or else you would be sent back.

Progress for your therapist is getting more then two word responses from you. You’re aware she’s in kahoots with Alexia, that Alexia is probably providing her more information then you are.

“You’re giving me the look that means that you’re writing something down along the lines of ‘unncooperative’.”

She is also in kahoots with the staff at Barcelona, another thing you signed was that she would work in conjunction with the clubs doctors to get you back to where you were, or somewhere in the vicinity.

They know every time you have a bad session, you’re guaranteed a consolation call from one of the coaches or even sometimes a teammate check-in telling you how brave you are and how strong you are for doing this.

You don’t agree, you nearly took the cowards way out and you’re proud of it. You wish it had fucking worked, every single second, of every single day, you wish you’d succeeded, wished that this hadn’t all ended up how it did.

“That’s not what I wrote, I wrote a observation. Uncooperative would be you refusing to speak to me like you did for our first two sessions, even if you lie it’s still trying.”

You don’t want to be curious of her, you’ve tried to give her as little attention as possible.

You’ve adapted the act that you call, therapised you.

You do your best job of smiling here and there, or at least when you know that you’re supposed to. Therapised you extends to a few people, Alexia, coaches, physios, people on the street.

You believe you’ve become a seasoned liar.

The funniest part is that sometimes you start to believe your act, you start to believe that all the ash and embers in your chest is really alight with flames, like you’re truly alive.

But then, you would pause, sit down, lie down, dissasociate and you would be reminded that that wasn’t your body. Your body wasn’t a place of life and prosper, it was as dead as anywhere else.

“What was the observation?”

You try not to be curious over her, or curious in general, you keep everything to yourself.

“You’ve told me time and time again that you attempted because you believed that not a single person would care if you were gone. Yet you wrote a letter, you knew that somebody would care, somebody would miss you. Guilt is what kept you from doing it earlier and guilt was what kept you from vanishing without a trace. Your conscience was clean in your own words, but that’s not true, your conscience was anything but clean. So what pushed you over?”

You hate that therapists have a way of worming out weird bits of information that they can use against you to worm out more bits of information, like they know your brain inside to out.

“My conscience was clean.”

Your therapist pulls her glasses up from her nose and scribbles on her pad again.

“Why’d you write a note then, specifically why did you write a note to your ex girlfriend?”

There are so many things you could say to that, but you can’t quite find the words.

“Let me rephrase to make it easier. When you were in the hospital, and Alexia reacted so viscerally, you weren’t surprised. You expected her to feel something about what happened, you didn’t seem surprised at all by her words or actions. You knew that she was going to be hurt by what you did. So, how was your conscience truly clean?”

Thinking about Alexia in the hospital makes you feel as nauseous as the furniture does.

Your still mad at her, still mad at yourself for never changing her as your medical contact and medical proxy. It had all been a clusterfuck.

“I didn’t know Alexia was going to be there, I though that she’d washed her hands of me. I left her a note because I thought there had been things left unsaid between us and I didn’t want to leave that way.”

Your therapist nods, she doesn’t scribble this time and that makes the itchy feeling all over you die down a little bit.

“Alright, let’s move on. Your ankle injury, how’s that going?”

You look to the window, it’s a horrible day outside, just your luck when you’d chosen to walk to your therapists office on what was supposed to be a 20 degree day with sunny skies. It was the epitome of your life, high expectations, low realities.

“Well three weeks between a hospital and psychiatric facility are probably the best thing anybody can do for a injury.”

You let out a self-deprecating chuckle and your therapist does nothing but scribble.

“So you’ve been doing your rehab as advised then?”

Rehab, both kinds, is mind-bogglingly boring. You go to your therapist and she tells you all the ways you have to work to rehab your brain, she gives you medication after medication and exercise after exercise. The same happens every time you see your physio, test after test, exercise after exercise.

Your stuck in the same cycle of boredom, it makes you wonder how people ever expect you to get better when all you are doing is living in a constant state of suffering.

“The physios are happy with me, say that if I continue on the track that I am I should be back on the pitch in a few weeks, with psychological clearance.”

At the current therapeutic rate your going at, you don’t think you’ll see a psychological clearance until your 50th birthday, if you’re lucky.

“How does it feel coming back from that injury, especially considering how the decline in your physical health simulatenously resulted in the decrease in your mental health?”

You keep silent, because you know that if you talk then it’s doing to be something emotional. When you don’t know how to answer questions without exposing yourself you opt to keep quiet, it’s a obvious tell that you feel uncomfortable with the question. But giving away a tell is a whole lot better then starting an emotional downpour.

“Y/n?”

You look at your shoes. You only were allowed to start wearing one on your bad foot a week ago, and you’d forgotten how hard it was to coordinate shoes with your clothes. This morning you’d thought that they matched with your pants but now they look much darker then they truly are against the grey carpet. The mix of your navy adidas that you might have stolen from Mapi’s wardrobe a couple of months ago when she was complaining about the amount of shoes she’d been sent with your grey wide leg pants was a interesting choice but therapy wasn’t a fashion parade. The shoes don’t quite fit your feet, that’sc how you remembered they weren’t yours. When you’d taken them, it had been during some kind of team bonding night at Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment. Life had been so good, Alexia and you had been so good and for once you’d kind of felt like you were beginning to fit in.You’d never felt that way before that era of your life.

But like most things, it was now a far distant memory.

“The injury wasn’t what made me depressed.”

It’s a half truth, you suppose. Yes, the injury definitely contributed to the factors that trigger your depression, but it wasn’t a sole cause.

“I disagree.”

More scribbling on her note pad, in your opinion it must be some psychological form of torture. You’ll google it when you get home, check to make sure that this isn’t a form of manipulation to somehow convince you to say the things that she wants you to.

“If you disagree then tell me why you think that.”

It’s daring of you to say, there is nearly a 99.99 percent chance that whatever she says you are going to deny vehemently. Even if she hits it right on the nail.

“I think that you don’t give yourself enough grace for the challenges that you’ve gone through. You came to Barcelona because you were running from things, from your past. You’ve never stopped running, truly. Everytime somebody gets close enough to begin to try and worm their feet into your shoes to try and relive some of it with you, you shut them down and stop it. For most people, shoes are a means of getting to where they want, for you, you keep running because if you stop you feel like you’ll suffocate, like your feet will be wrapped up in barb wire and you’ll be stuck. For whatever reason, you don’t think anybody will ever be able to empathise with that. You think that if you ever let anybody in for long enough that they learn what you’ve been running from that they’ll try and stop you, that you’ll be faced with everything that you’ve ever struggled with. So, you keep running, and running, you’ve always been in a state of escape. With your relationship, you finally stopped running, you slowed to a jog. Then, you got injured. All of a sudden you felt like you were stuck and instead of letting yourself finally come to a stop and accepting help and complete love for once in your life, and being vulnerable. You chose to start running again, running from your friends, running from your team, running from every single good thing that you’d gotten in your life until you were so consumed with all the running that you just wanted it all to stop. But you didn’t know how to stop parts of your life without stopping other parts, so you chose to stop it all.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds. You’ve never had the feeling that you’ve been experiencing your whole life summed up, you don’t know how to feel about it.

You look at your psychologist, and somehow she looks back at you in a way that you somehow feel like she understands, you’ve never really felt that way about her.

It’s always felt like she’s judging you, like it’s her job to judge every single thing you say. Or at least that’s the way you’ve always seen it. It’s her job to make sure you don’t fall of the rails again, to make decisions about what you can and can’t do. It’s never been a possibility for you that maybe she’s here for a little bit more then just the business side of it all.

“Is that it? Did you come to a point where it felt like you had no other option but to just make it all stop?”

You bite your lip so hard you think it might just bleed, it’s a mission to try and stop the tears that have begun to cling to the back of your eyes at bay. You’ve never cried during a therapy session, and there is no reason why today should be different. The amount of people you’ve cried in front of is limited to a very, very short list of people and you don’t intend for your psychologist to be added.

“It would be okay if that was it. It’s okay to admit that for you at that time it felt like there was no other option but to make it all stop.”

You feel muzzled, like you can’t speak without admitting to something that you don’t want to.

“I thought it would make it all better.”

Your therapist puts down her notepad, and you feel a whole load of anxiety rush out of you.

“You thought it would make what better?”

You keep your tooth pinned to your lip, if it draws blood, it draws blood. The pain helps to take your focus off of the word vomit you can feel coming up.

“Everyone else’s lives.”

Your response is croaky, and when your therapist points to the glass of water you don’t shake your head like normal, you find yourself reaching for it and taking a few tentative sips.

“What about your life, what about making your own life better?”

You take a few more sips, because it stalls the conversation for long enough that you can think up an answer that doesn’t make it sound like you are completely insane.

“I was never really thinking about it like that.”

You look at her, eye to eye again, and there is this weird understanding between the two of you. You can feel it, whether or not it’s real, for the first time you feel like you aren’t crazy for thinking the way that you do. It’s a weird kind of safety that you’ve never had.

“For a minute, I want you to close your eyes and think about exactly what you want, whether it’s the future, it’s right now. Not football, not other people, nobody else. Just you.”

You humour her, and close your eyes.

For a few seconds, you can’t think of much. You’ve never been a future thinker, not beyond emergency plans and second options.

You think about death for a few seconds, a couple of weeks ago it was all you could think of. Permanent, irreversible disappearance. Even then though, it wasn’t what you were actually yearning for, not truly, it was just an easy solution to complex problems, problems that still haven’t been solved.

You think long and hard, and eventually you find a pleasantness.

You want to resolve things with Alexia, you know that for sure. It’s been impossible trying to navigate your relationship in your new reality. You want to get to a place where it’s less impossible. You want happiness with her, pure happiness. You also want some kind of return to football, you don’t know how. You’ve never really played football because it’s what you love, you’ve never loved your sport, it’s more been about having something that could take you places when inevitable wherever you had been was no longer an option because you’d somehow fucked it up.

You want a better relationship with yourself, you want to understand why you think the way you do and why you can’t think the same way and be the same way as everyone. You want to get past the fear you have that you will never be the same.

When you have nothing else to think about, you open your eyes, to your psychologist smiling at you.

“That’s our hour, I’m really happy to leave this here and circle back to some of it in a couple of days. The progress you’re making is definitely getting bigger and I’m happy to sign off on you getting some hours in the gym if your physios are happy with it. I’ll call the team tonight and we can work out a plan that works best.”

You’re in slight disbelief as she speaks.

“You’re sure?”

You stay seated for the sake of making sure that you haven’t somehow dreamt up what she’s just said.

“If you try and make some progress with your homework. I want you to try and talk to Mapi, a text message, coffee, something. I want you to talk to Alexia beyond her being a caregiver for you and I want you to make progress with your teammates, don’t avoid the gym if you know they are going to be there, don’t avoid team events, dip a toe in the water with them and I can guarantee you will have a very different outcome then what you think.”

Contingencies. One thing you’ve learnt about therapy is that there are always contingencies, it’s always a give and take, never one or the other.

You nod your head anyways, somehow, with her weird manipulation games you’ve managed to agree to something that the version of you from and hour ago never would have.

“I’ll try.”

Your therapist smiles and stands up, for whatever reason there is always a part of you that loves the end of your sessions but also never wants to leave.

Whether it seems like it or not, you actually do want to get better, you just don’t know what better looks like for you and that’s scary. You’ve never met the version of yourself that is ‘better’ or ‘normal’. You can’t say that you want to be your old self because there hasn’t ever been a version of yourself that feels better. You’ve always been in the slums, always been dragging yourself through the thickest mud to try and make it to the end of a day or month or year. You don’t actually want to survive like that, you want to live your life properly, or whatever non-sluggish life looks like for you.

Your still desperately trying to work that out.

Alexia is waiting in the carpark as usual, it’s always the same carpark, always the same consolation hot chocolate in her hands afterwards.

Once you’ve sat down in her passenger seat, put on your seatbelt and the takeaway cup is settled in your hands she broaches the topic of your session.

“How was it?”

There is always an awkwardness around your sessions, Alexia picks your up from every one, on the odd occasion she’ll join in if your therapist thinks it would be good. Otherwise, she spends the time sitting in her car and picking up hot drinks.

It’s infinitely awkward between the two of you, but Alexia in your opinion is mostly to blame for that.

She’d been the first person to put her hand up to be your carer, your glorified babysitter.

You know it’s a guilt thing, she feels guilty that part of your pain could have been because of her, even though you’ve insisted time and time again that it wasn’t.

“Fine.”

Therapy is a tough topic for you, mostly because you’ve never wanted to be there in the first place. You’d been tricked into going from the beginning, Alexia insisting that she was taking you to a appointment to check up on your scars when really it had been to your psychologists office. You’d yelled and screamed and insisted that she take you home, but at the end of the day if you ever wanted to play football again it was obvious you were going to have to suck it up.

You hadn’t talked to Alexia for days after that, which is funny because that was less then three weeks ago and now you’re here.

“Fine?”

You nod your head, it’s hard to find words after a normal session, but after this one it’s ever harder.

“I made some progress.”

Alexia nods, you know there are probably a hundred questions going through her head right now, but she won’t ask them. She’s too scared that if she asks them, she’ll get an answer that will terrify her. One that will restart all of the problems, even if that isn’t really how it works. Alexia doesn’t understand mental health, that’s become frighteningly obvious over the past few weeks. She doesn’t understand your struggles because she’s never experienced them. She’s never had self hatred or depression or overwhelming anxiety. It’s what makes you feel so alienated and so out of place amongst your peers. You feel like a shark amongst a sea of dolphins, like you look the same but when it comes down to it you are completely different.

“That’s good, no?”

You nod your head, disguising the grimace on your face by the mouth of the lid on your hot chocolate.

“She says I can start doing some hours in the gym.”

Alexia smiles, big and wide, like it’s her whose been given the good news.

“That’s good bebita, you’ll be on the pitch in no time.”

The pitch. It’s all Alexia cares about.

When you can be back, how she can get you to the point you can be back. Because when Alexia is injured, it’s all she cares about. What she can do to get herself back on the pitch, how she can make the rehab process faster, she thinks of every single logistic and possibility.

You want to make it back to the pitch, or you think you do. But it’s not your priority. It’s become abundantly clear that your main priority has to be yourself, figuring yourself out.

“Mhm.”

You focus your energy on counting how many bike riders pass Alexia’s car as she navigates through peak city traffic. You get to 38 before she interrupts your intense search for every person on two wheels.

“Vicky’s supposed to be coming over later, I promised I’d help her with a school project. I can go to her house instead if you’d prefer?”

Every time Alexia’s broached the topic of teammates you’ve immediately refused any contact, and your immediate reaction is to say no. but you think about what your therapist said.

“I might text Mapi and see if she wants to talk to me.”

You hear the sound of Alexia’s shock in the form of a choken sort of cough, she tries to cover it up by slapping her hand against the wheel of her car, but it doesn’t do much.

“I think that would be a really good idea, bebita, I think she would be really happy to see you.”

You don’t look at Alexia, you don’t want to see the look of perplexion or shock or whatever emotion she’s going through. You haven’t seen Mapi since the hospital, and as little as you remember from then, you remember Mapi very clearly.

She had been just as out of it as you’d been, refusing to leave your bedside but Ingrid having to do everything for her to keep her alive. Every time she visited you, she looked like she’d seen a ghost, or something worse. You weren’t sure what was worse, seeing somebody dead or seeing somebody who was hanging on the cliff of life and death and having to save their life, knowing that if action hadn’t of been taken they would be dead.

Definitely the latter.

“I’ll text her, see if she can come and pick you up before Vicky comes over?”

You nod your head, allowing yourself to focus back on counting your tally, except moving over to motorcycles this time.

You shower with the bathroom door halfway open. There are no sharps anywhere in your apartment, knives, razors, scissors, nail clippers, vegetable peelers, glasses, anything that could cause any kind of bodily harm. For now, you aren’t allowed to be left alone for longer then an hour. You sleep with your bedroom door open and Alexia sleeping in the guest room next door. You eat a set meal plan, you do two hours of rehab every single day, you live on a schedule that is so carefully planned that you have no time to yourself and yet every single moment feels lonely.

It’s a process, you’ve been told. It’s crucial to your recovery that there are measurements in place to assure your ‘success’.

Alexia knocks on your door every five minutes whilst you shower, you yell back every time.

It had become a rule after the first time you’d showered with the door open you’d made a joke about using the shower curtain to harm yourself, because what did they really expect you to be doing?

It hadn’t gone well, Alexia going silent for a few days and a very heated conversation with your psychologist about the inappropriateness of making jokes about suicide.

It was your trauma, it was your fucking story, and everyone was acting like it was their most sensitive issue.

Bathrooms are a bit of a touchy subject, you don’t shower in your ensuite bathroom anymore, you can’t. The room has permanently been blocked off, completely forgotten about.

The first thing you want to do once you’ve ‘recovered’ is leave this apartment, there are to many bad memories, it feels like you’ll never be able to recover if your stuck in the same place that you were in when it all went bad.

It’s a problem for when you can deal with the stress of packing up your whole life and moving it to somewhere.

When you shut the water off and step out of the warm stream you let yourself breathe, showers are the only real alone time you get. Everywhere else you are supervised, watched like a hawk to make sure that you don’t try anything else that could jeopardise your return to football. The reality is that Barca can’t afford to have you sit on the sideline for a whole season, they need you back, they can’t risk another slip up.

Alexia at least gives you the privacy of getting dressed in your own wardrobe, all of your wired bras have been removed, but for the most part it’s all normal.

You get dressed in another sweat suit, it’s become your new uniform over the last few weeks, no draw strings of course.

Your hair gets swept into a messy bun, it’s too much effort to deal with the brushing and braiding and tying that you would have normally gone through with a couple of weeks ago. You aren’t allowed to wear jewellery anymore so your accessories consist of pretty much nothing. You’re bare from the bones to your clothes, your soul feels as bare as the rest of your body.

You’re allowed to wear laced shoes, but you often opt not to, slip on birkenstocks or uggs are just easier. The Barcelona January chill has been getting to you recently, so you upt for your ugg boots.

Your outfit choice is the most choice you get in your day, so you try and put as little thinking into it as possible, it’s easier for you to just succumb to the reality that everything in your life is controlled by other people.

By the time you’ve finished, you’re towing very close to the time Mapi had told Alexia she’d come and meet you. You collect the things that you might need from your vanity and shove them in your pocket, before making your way out to your living room.

It’s unofficially become Alexia’s office, her laptop and books cover your dining table now. She lives out of your apartment, leaves only for training and barcelona commitments, so it’s fair to say that she’s made herself at home.

When you were living together before, it had bothered you more, having her things everywhere. Alexia is a organiser, of everything and everybody but herself. You’d spend hours telling her to pick up her shoes from random spots around the apartment floor or getting her to pick up random clothing items laying on top of pieces of furniture. This mess is different, it reflects how the situation is different. There is nothing comfortable about your predicament, it’s not the same kind of comfortable coexistence you had when you were dating Alexia.

There is a boundary between the two of you now and it makes it all so much more confusing.

Alexia isn’t just your friend or your teammate, she’s you caregiver, the person who holds you accountable, unofficially the person who is supposed to keep you from doing anything to yourself. It adds a whole layer of stress to the situation, you can’t relax around her the same way you used to.

Your relationship is never going to be the same, but parts of you wished that Alexia hadn’t taken over the burden of caring for you, because maybe the two of you could work on rebuilding yourselves as a couple instead of Alexia trying to rebuild you as a person, as if you are a broken lego set that needed to be put back together.

She spends most of her time in your living room, doesn’t push the boundary of your bedroom unless it’s needed.

She’s sat at the kitchen table, preparing herself to help with whatever project it is that Vicky needs help with.

“Shouldn’t Vicky have maybe asked one of the younger girls? You’re practically ancient now, they probably teach the kids these days history from when you were growing up.”

Whatever Alexia looks like she’s going to be helping with looks like something she’s definitely not qualified in, although Alexia’s never the person to say no.

“You’re acting like I’m a dinosaur, I’m only four years older then you.”

She rolls her eyes at you and it feels so normal, for a second you feel so much more normal. Life would be so much easier if everybody stopped treating you like a fine fucking piece of china. An eye roll here or there, a yell here or there, some kind of emotion beyond sympathy would be nice.

“I mean, in comparison to Vicky you’re pretty much from the stone ages.”

Alexia rolls her eyes again, she looks like she’s about to fight back against you but a knock at the door silences you both.

All of a sudden the little smile is gone and the air goes thick again, thick with the reminder that you can’t just exist in a bubble of nothingness were nobody else exists and you can just be free from everything.

Alexia gets up to open the door, and you let her, allowing yourself to loiter around the table and enjoy the moment for just a little bit longer. It’s that moment that might just get you through what is about to happen.

Alexia calls for you and you know it’s Mapi, you know it’s Mapi because Mapi won’t step foot in your apartment.

Ingrid had come to visit when you’d come home, along with a handful of other people, but Mapi hadn’t been one of them. Ingrid had explained that it had been to hard for her, that she’d made it to the door but couldn’t come in, and you couldn’t find it in you to blame her.

Mapi smiles at you when she sees you, it’s the first time you’ve seen her since the hospital and the both of you look very different since then.

She looks less dead, that’s the first thing you take notice of. She doesn’t look like she would blow away into a puff of smoke if a gust of wind came past. She looks good, she looks healed.

Mapi and you don’t talk, for whatever reason, you take the normal walk you would every sunday morning before it happened.

Down from your apartment, onto the main street, up to the mouth of the road, across the street and then onto the boardwalk.

It’s the main reason you chose your apartment, it’s right next to the beach. Perfect for post matchday swims and a morning walk on the beach. It used to be yours and Mapi’s pregame routine and it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of your feet moving down the sidewalk.

No words are spoken until the two of you are seated on the sand, a wordless agreement that you both come to when your toes hit the beach.

You’re both seated, your eyes looking over the horizon. Your too scared to break the silence, so you wait for Mapi.

“You look good, chica.”

You nod your head, you feel better, you must look better then how you did.

“I feel better.”

Mapi nods, when her hand reaches out to sit on top of your own on the sand, you don’t flinch away, it feels good to have a physical connection with a person who isn’t Alexia.

The silence falls over the two of you again, except this time it feels less uncomfortable. You let it linger for a little bit, before you feel in a place to speak.

“I need to say thank you. I know I said some things in the hospital, I meant it in the moment but I want to take it back now. You saved me, you did something so brave and amazing and the version of me now is so grateful that you did.”

Mapi stops your rant, before you can say something else.

“I would have done it for anybody else.”

The problem is you think, that you aren’t anybody else. It would be so much easier to give cpr to a random person on the street and never see them again, never have to be worried that you would see them again and there would be some kind of problem.

“But you did it for me. You saved me from myself, and I want you to know that I genuinely am so thankful for you. You didn’t choose the easy option and I put you in a extremely hard position. If anything had of happened to me, you would have blamed yourself and it wouldn’t have been your fault but you would have felt like it was.”

Mapi nods, and then you hear a sniffle and it makes you feel horrible.

Mapi’s crying, she’s crying and you don’t know what to do.

“You begged me to reverse it, in the hospital, you didn’t say some things. You begged me to stab you or do something. You told me it was my fault you were alive and that it was my responsibility to undo what I’d done.”

You take a deep breath, you didn’t remember it being that bad, but you remember Alexia telling you that some of the things you’d said had been unrepeatable.

“I can’t reverse what I said, in that moment I was in so much pain Maps. I actually can’t tell you how much pain i was in, all I wanted was to disappear. I’m working through not feeling that way and that starts by apologising. You did not deserve to experience what you did. You did not deserve to see what you did. You did not deserve to hear what I said to you. I am sorry. There is nothing I can say that will make any of it okay, I am sorry that for whatever reason god chose you to be the person burdened with this. I am so sorry.”

Mapi sniffles again. You knew that the possibility of no reconciliation was possible, that Mapi would reject any offer of apologies you had, you’d just really hoped it wouldn’t be like that.

“You’ve been like a little sister to me. I know you didn’t feel like we were that close, but I saw so much of me in you from when I was younger, and that was part of the reason I ended up at your apartment that night. Because I was worried, more then anybody else. I had this weird feeling, and I hated that I was right about it. You were like my little sister, and I watched as they strapped you onto a gurney and wheeled you off whilst telling me that they would try their hardest. I don’t blame you, there is no blame for something like this. But I need you to understand that I can’t just get over what I www, I’m working through it, I’m trying. My therapist has really been helping me, but it’s not going to disappear.”

You nod, Mapi and you have been through two mirroring experiences, and oddly you feel the same way about your own therapy. You’re working through it, you’re trying, but nothing that has happened is ever going to disappear, with yourself or with your peers.

“Maps, you’re allowed to experience however you want. If you never want to see me again I won’t hate you.”

Mapi shakes her head.

“I don’t know how I feel yet, I just need you to know that I understand that the you right now is different to the you from weeks ago, and you are entitled to separate yourself from that person. You don’t have to be that person if you don’t want to be. Let yourself live in the new version of you, the old version died back then.”

You bite your lip, there is beginning to become a permanent divet from your front teeth, you like it in a weird way.

“I’m trying, I’m really trying.”

Mapi nods, raising her arm from your hand, to your shoulders, bringing you into her side.

“We’ll try together then, huh? You try for me and I’ll try for you?”

You nod your head, and for the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re totally alone in the battle that you’re fighting. It’s still very much your battle, but it feels like you have somebody in your corner letting you know that you are going to be okay.

—————————————

well aware it’s not edited… if u have an issue with that such my dick xoxo

hope you enjoyed !!!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[leaentries]

let them eat cake | nico hischier

SUMMARY: when mrs.cap learns that cake can serve more than one purpose

WARNINGS: food play, slight boob worship, slight nipple play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, swearing, not proofread

WC: 2.97k

A/N: guess who’s back from the dead ! i hope you will take this nico fic as a form of apology for my lack of content recently !

the captain’s girl masterlist!

The familiar blaring of an alarm broke through the warm, golden atmosphere of the bedroom. Sunlight bounced amongst the beige walls, as the air slightly blew against them. Realizing Nico must have left the balcony door open, you managed to peel an eye open to gaze at the sleeping man beside you. 

His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, signaling he was still locked in his restful slumber. You took a moment to admire the youthful lines of his shaven face, taking note of every mark he had. The straight swoop of his nose, or the curve of his eyebrows; you swore to commit them to memory. Your eyes trailed down to his neck, where his chain dangled loosely to the side. A sweet smile found home on your lips as you watched his nose scrunch slightly in his sleep. 

However, your morning bliss was interrupted by Nico’s phone, which, once again, began to scream with that god-forsaken alarm. 

Very carefully, you lifted your body onto your left arm, maneuvering yourself to grab his phone and hit the “stop” button. As it would be, you didn’t quite make it that far before collapsing halfway onto the sleeping boy.

Nico’s body jolted at the sudden weight, hands immediately going to hold your hip and the arm that now lay limp across his chest. 

“Jesus, schatzi,” His voice rumbled with sleep, “What are you doing?” 

You sheepishly grinned at him, “‘M sorry, Neeks. I was trying to turn off your alarm so it wouldn’t make you cranky this morning.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Cranky? I’m never cranky in the mornings. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else, baby.” 

“Ah, so you're not the guy who almost chucks his phone at the wall every morning because his alarm is so obnoxiously loud?” 

Nico gave you a deadpan look. 

You shrugged at him, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Yeah, yeah” He quickly flipped you over, his heavy body now pressing into yours, “I’d be careful with what you say.” 

His lips placed slow, hot kisses down your jaw, only stopping once he met your earlobe. He bit lightly, drawing a sharp gasp from you. 

Nico’s voice came out in a rough whisper, “After all, I’m very cranky in the mornings.” 

Nico removed himself from you, taking away the warmth of his thick muscle. Making his way to the bathroom, he gave you a quick wink and a smug smile. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to control the ache that now resided in your core. 

“You suck, Hischier!” 

Well, happy birthday to you.

  -

While Nico took his time in the shower getting ready for the day, you took it upon yourself to start making a big breakfast for the two of you. 

Although it was your birthday, you still wanted to do something sweet for the both of you to enjoy. You had been looking forward to sharing an intimate meal with him first thing in the morning. Yet, if you were being honest, you never cared to make a fuss over your birthday. 

It just never occurred to you to care so much. 

As you scraped the last bits of your breakfast out of the pan, you heard Nico’s heavy steps approaching the kitchen. 

“Mmmm,” He sniffed the air with a dog-like fervor, “Something smells good.” 

You nodded towards the two plates, that now sat full, on the island top. “I made us a big breakfast this morning. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together today. Especially since you’ve been busy with all the away games the past few weeks.” 

Nico walked up behind you, hands circling your full waist with a squeeze. 

“That sounds perfect, schatzi.” 

Grabbing your hand, Nico helped you make your way into the high-top seat, carefully pushing you in before finding his way next to you. He gave you a quick peck, reaching to pull your legs to drape across his lap. 

Your stomach argued with hunger, prompting you to finally satisfy your morning needs. You closed your eyes in bliss at the warm taste of your favorite breakfast. Ever since you were a child, you had this same meal every year. Yet, it never failed to bring back the same excitement and nostalgia as it did when you were little.

“Fuck,” Nico mumbled under his breath, “Don’t make that face, baby. It’s too early for me to be hard.” 

You fluttered your eyes innocently, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

However, you most certainly did. And the evidence was currently pressing into your calf. 

A low groan escaped his mouth as you dragged your legs slowly from his lap. Grabbing the empty plates, you made a show of your hips in the short walk to the sink. Carefully placing them in the metal confinement, rough hands came to pull you back. 

“Oh!” A squeal echoed into the kitchen as Nico walked your body back to the counter. His large fingers gripped your wrists, pinning them to the cabinet above you. Nico’s face dangled teasingly too far for your aching lips. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, schatzi.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, “Swaying that pretty ass in my face.”

Nico shook his head in disapproval, “‘S not fair to me, baby.” His deep eyes only seemed to grow bigger, “Why are you being mean to me?”

You furrowed your brows in a pout, “‘M not being mean.”

“Oh yeah, you are.” He moved one of your hands back down to cup his heavy length straining against the fabric of his sweats. “Think just because you’re the birthday girl, you get to be a brat? Is that it?”

You huffed in annoyance. You should have known Nico wouldn’t give in to you so easily, even if it was your special day. Deciding to continue your ploy, you gave him your best puppy eyes, “No, Neeks.” You bit your lip, “I just want my favorite birthday present.”

Nico didn’t miss the way your eyes scanned his body, your orbs lingering on his throbbing erection. He could feel his resolve faltering at your sultry gaze, his body naturally leaning in to press against yours.

Although, just as Nico’s lips were about to finally slot on your awaiting ones, his phone blared loudly for the umpteenth time that morning. Nico’s forehead dropped to your shoulder in defeat.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He mumbled, “Gotta go to morning skate.”

Even though you knew he had to leave, you couldn’t help but feel slightly dejected. You nodded understandably, acknowledging his predicament.

Nico picked his head up, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, “I promise, I’ll make it up to you when I get back, birthday girl.”

-

As soon as Nico had left and the remnants from breakfast had been cleaned up, you easily found yourself falling into a peaceful nap on the couch. Yet, as quickly as your eyes shut, they opened again at the feeling of warm lips trailing your shoulder. 

“Wake up, schatzi,” Nico’s warm voice soothed your sleepy mind, “I brought you something.” 

Intrigued, you lifted your head to meet his gaze. 

‘Wha’dya bring?”

Nico’s mouth quirked up, “Come with me to the kitchen and find out.” 

Giving in to the curiosity, you rose from the couch and followed your boyfriend into the homey room. You felt your breath stop for a moment at the lopsided cake that now sat center on your island. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most shapely, but you didn’t care. With the icing slightly running down the sides and the half-cut strawberries, it was perfect. 

“You made me a cake?” 

Nico shuffled bashfully, “Yeah, I tried to, at least. I-I know it’s not the best, but-” You cut him off before he could finish. 

“It’s perfect, Neeks.” You looked at him with sparkling eyes, “Thank you.” 

“Anything for my birthday girl.” 

You turned back to admire the pink cake once more. Nico’s warm body came to lean against your back, his arms wrapping around to cage you in. You watched as his right hand moved to swipe some of the fluffy icing from the side onto his finger. 

“Open up, baby.” 

You obliged gratefully, taking in his sugar-covered digit. You swirled your tongue to gather as much of the sweetness as possible, sucking lightly. 

“Fuck..” Nico’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. 

You could feel his hardening length pressed snuggly against your cheeks, taking the opportunity to tease him a bit. Jutting your hips backward, Nico groaned at the pressure. He pulled his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva still attached. His hand moved to grasp onto your heavy breast through the material of your t-shirt.

Nico’s fingers danced across your peaked nipple, before quickly turning your body in place. He swiped another bit of the icing, letting your mouth eagerly accept his offer. His eyes grew with dark lust at the sight. Nico’s cock twitched with desire at the feeling of your tongue. 

He removed his finger suddenly, drawing a whine from your lips. However, you were quickly cut off by Nico grabbing your thighs to hoist you onto the countertop. The cool sensation of the marble ignites goosebumps all over your skin. His mouth immediately found your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down the supple skin. His hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, before managing to discard it completely. 

“Look at these, baby” His eyes were glued to your breasts, “Been thinking about my girls all day. Always sit so pretty for me.” 

His fingers were cold as they grazed over your bare nipples. Nico didn’t waste any time as he lowered his mouth to take one into his mouth. You bit your lip to suppress a squeal. His teeth bit the pebbled bud lightly, sending shocks of pleasure to your core. You leaned your head back as a whine echoed into the kitchen. 

“Mmm, fuck,” You panted with arousal, “Missed this so much.” 

Nico raised a brow, “Yeah?” He mumbled as he took in the other nipple, “Missed me sucking on these gorgeous tits?” 

His accent grew thicker as the pure need for you flooded his senses. Your body felt like it was on fire with each lick and suck Nico gave to your swollen breasts. You could have sworn you’d cum from just that alone. 

Nico pulled up, his own chest heaving with desire while he ripped off his shirt. As if a lightbulb went off in his mind, his lips grew into a wicked grin. He gripped the backs of your legs, yanking you forward on the counter. You sucked in a breath, undeniably hot and bothered by his manhandling. Nico kept his hand on your leg, while he reached to pull the platter of cake closer to the both of you. 

You watched him quizzically as he, once again, dipped his first two fingers into the icing. Nico looked back at you, smirking at your questioning face. He answered with a sly wink, before smearing the icing down the length of your chest and abdomen.

“Nico!” You exclaimed with a laugh, “What the hell?” 

“It’s okay, schatzi. I’ll clean you up.” He gave you another smirk, before bending down to trail his tongue along the stripe of frosting. “Always taste so sweet.”

 He took his time, making sure not a single bit of the sticky substance was left. The air ran cool against your skin as Nico’s tongue traveled further down your body. You found yourself panting with arousal. He pushed your shoulder slightly as he signaled you to lay back. 

You gasped, back arching against the cold countertop. He took the time while you adjusted to the temperature to rub some more icing along the insides of your thighs. Your legs parted subconsciously, letting Nico slot his body in between them. 

A whimper escaped into the air as you felt his warm muscle flex against the plush fat of your thigh. He ran his tounge teasingly closer to your throbbing core, but only to trail it back down. Your chest heaved with anticipation, the tension overbearing, and raising a sheen layer of sweat over your skin as he continued his mistrations around where you needed him most. 

Determined to have you begging, Nico pulled away completely. Watching your flushed breasts rise and fall at the pace of your rapid breathing. He had to suppress a groan at the sight of your perked nipples still covered in his spit. His eyes met yours as you looked at him desperately. 

“Nico,” You whined, “Why’d you stop?” 

He smirked at you, “I want you to beg for it, schatzi.” 

A fire lit inside of your stomach at the authority in his tone, yet you couldn’t help the bubble of stubbornness that arose with it. 

“Why should I?” You inquired, propping yourself up onto your elbows, “I mean, it is my birthday. Don’t I deserve a present?” 

Nico almost smiled at your rebuttal, but he also needed to make sure you knew who was in charge. He leaned forward, his rigid abdomen pressing into your soft one. His mouth latched onto your nipples one more, this time sucking harshly. 

You cried out through the mixture of pain and pleasure, your slick practically dripping onto the counter by now. Your hands moved to grip his shoulder roughly, your nails leaving angry red marks in response. Nico only pulled away once he heard your needy cries and felt the way your hips bucked up into him. 

“Ready to stop being a brat?” 

Normally, you’d put up more of a fight, but with Nico’s relentless teasing all day, the thrumming need that pounded through every vein in your body had you complying with his wants. 

“Yes,” You breathed, “Please, Neeks.” Your body began to squirm as he dragged his clothed cock along the wetness pooling from your cunt, “Fuck, please do something.” 

His head tilted at you, hips still moving torturously slow, “But I am doing something, baby.” 

Your head fell haphazardly against the cool marble, an exasperated sigh leaving your throat. It was agonizing what he was doing to you, and he knew it. 

All you heard was a low chuckle before you felt Nico’s body lower and the sound of his knees thumping down against the hardwoods. Your eyes fluttered closed as Nico’s lips began to leave light kisses closer and closer to your clit. 

Nico’s right arm moved across your leg to gather some more icing before prodding at your closed mouth. Right as you opened to accept his fingers, Nico plunged his tongue deep into your soaked hole. 

Your body convulsed at the sensory overload. You felt your eyes roll back as the sweet strawberry cascaded over your taste buds and the surging pleasure Nico provided pulsed through your core. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, determined not to leave a single bit of the treat left.

Nico’s fingers fell from your mouth as you moaned almost pornographically at the intense sensation of him lapping at your velvet walls. His nose nudged against your clit with every pass he made, causing the onset of your orgasm to show its head. Your hands tangled themselves into his thick hair, tugging in an attempt to ground yourself further onto his face. 

Nico moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves up every limb. Your body felt as if it was floating, tingling with the utmost euphoric sensations. That familiar burning only increased as Nico replaced his tongue with two fingers. He plunged them brutally, not bothering to start slow. 

“Fuck!” You cried as your back arched off the counter. 

Nico’s mouth sucked skillfully on your clit, drawing fast circles. You could feel your climax approaching impossibly fast, your cunt beginning to spasm around your boyfriend’s fingers. 

“Close already, schatzi?” He mumbled against you.

You nodded helplessly, overwhelmed by the searing pleasure in your lower stomach. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you were hit with one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever had. Your hips bucked against Nico as he continued his abuse through the duration of your high. 

Your mind felt like it was spinning, the weight of your climax taking the breath from your lungs. Your vision went white as your eyes clenched shut. Nico’s finger slowed to a stop, his mouth now leaving gentle kisses to the side of your knee where he rested his head. Your jaw fell slightly, lungs burning from the lack of air. 

All you could feel was Nico carefully removing his fingers, and the weight of his body moving to now stand. His warm hands caressed your hips soothingly, coaxing you back to reality. 

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” 

You eventually managed to peel open your lids, eyes clouded with dreariness. 

“There’s those pretty eyes,” Nico smiled lovingly at your fucked out state, “Let’s go take a quick shower. You’re all sticky from the icing.”

A laugh bubbled up, “Yeah?” You started at him accusingly, “And whose fault is that?” 

Nico just rolled his eyes at your attitude, helping you off the counter and into the bathroom. 

Once you were situated under the scolding water, Nico slid in behind you, arms wrapping around to pull you into his front. 

“Today is my favorite day of the year,” Nico stated.

You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him questioningly, “Why?” 

“Because it’s the day you were born.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, a bashful smile turning up on your lips. You shoved your face back into his toned chest, hiding away from his gaze. 

“Neeks,” You whined with embarrassment. 

Nico just laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Happy birthday, schatzi.” 

[2kverrr]

SAM GIDDINGS - Dating Headcanons

UNTIL DAWN || Sam Giddings x Reader

sam had 0 time for drama, especially including that of her own friends'. And being one of emily davis' closest friends basically encased your life in her drama.

you didn't feel as close with sam as you were with the group. but you felt most drawn to her, her maturity, her nurture, her kindness. more or less everything your friends lacked.

she's kickass, not scared to put someone in their place, something you never quite found the confidence to do.

she hates fishing, loves gardening, tolerates publicly accessible nature reserves, enjoys outdoor activities, despises zoos and you're not so sure how you know all of this.

you doubt she knows a single thing about you. it's weird - you can be friends with the top dogs and have some sort of silly superiority over people, yet nobody really knows you.

you and sam had spoken numerous times before, each you could remember were rather enjoyable. the two of you got on really well, but it was rare either of you could get any time alone

that was until you were approximately 4 weeks away from winter break.

"for fuck's sake em, just call him." you groan, your left hand massaging the bridge of your nose, but the girl straight out refused aggressively shoving her hands onto her hips and socking her head, yelling, "how many times do i have to tell you. i? am. not. wanting. i. am. wanted. a girl like me doesn't chase after people, they cha-""emily i'm going to leave you with your problem, since it is yours, not mine. see you at lunch." and with that, you head out of the girls' bathroom and out into the busy corridor.

you catch a glimpse of sam leaning against a locker, scrolling through her phone. There’s an ease in her posture that draws you in despite the weight of your worries - well emily's. “hey, everything okay?” sam looks up, her hazel eyes sharp and assessing. it’s both intimidating and comforting at the same time. you take a breath, trying to shake off the frustration of the last few minutes. “just another day in the life of emily,” you say with a half-hearted chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood. sam arches an eyebrow, not buying the attempt at humour.

"mike? is she still hung up over him?" she asks, her voice laced with understanding. you nod, with a deep sigh and an eye roll. "well, at least you're not like that, that's what I like about you." but you're too caught up in staring at her moving mouth to actually respond, before you know it she's waving her hand in front of your face, "huh- sorry, what were you saying?" she giggles, picking up the books from her locker and beginning to make her leave, "I'll see you around."

that interaction definitely stuck with you, or maybe it didn't, but the fact that you continued to think about it for the rest of the day is a big giveaway.

you're almost certain the corner of your eye spotted a suspicious emily briefly witness the interaction and watch you stare giddings down as she walked away, but that's a conversation for later.

after that talk with the blonde, you both found yourselves in more situations on your own, bumping into each other in the hallway, finding yourselves bored at parties, fixing your makeup in the bathroom mirror and seeing a certain hazel-eyes blonde behind you.

the week of receiving the message from josh, you and sam became really close, almost replacing emily in some way. besides, emily was now happily married off to matt, a sweet boy, not the sharpest tool in the box though.

you'd manage to persuade her to let you give her a lift to josh's mountain getaway, despite her refusal she ended up in your passenger seat feeding you mints as you drive.

you get out of your car and begin to lug bags out, placing them on the floor, sam is busy checking out her surroundings quite contently. but she swiftly turns around to face you, "hey, i wanted to tell you something," you raise your head curiously along with a quirked eyebrow, "i know we've been hanging out a lot lately," she continued, her voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. "but it feels different, doesn't it? like, we've really clicked, and I really like it - so please expect me to follow you around like a puppy dog... i still can't look at all the guys the same after last year." her eyebrows furrow. you sigh softly, the gears in your mind turning as you contemplated her words, "i get it sam, i like it too," you smirk, ", now am i taking both of our bags up or are you gonna' lend a hand?" she chuckles, her tension breaking as a playful glimmer replaces her earlier seriousness. "ugh - i really thought i'd get away with that." "i'll take them up for you. just lead the way," you nod, "this place really freaks me out."

settling in was a bit of a cofuffle, sam bagsied our rooms and had already called dibs on a bath.

you'd barely made it up the mountain with yours and her bags before she'd waltzed in, beckoning you to hurry up. don't even start on the wall you had to hop.

"guys, guys, hold your horses. we can't get comfy yet - generators, boilers and locks. i've sent mike and jess off to the generator outdoors, em and matt are... um- somewhere," josh takes a long scan for the couple that weren't present, ", right! sam's bath, boiler's downstairs, switch it on then you can have your beloved bath." she firmly places her hands on her hips and tilts her head, "you think i know how to work those kin-" you're quick to cut her off, "i'll go, can't be that hard." shrugging your shoulders. "that's the spirit, amigo!" the dark-haired boy cheers, fussing up your hair. of course sam's protests began, and again you managed to butt in. "look, i know what i'm doing, trust me.” you say, trying to keep the tension in the room from rising. “it should be pretty straightforward. i'll check for the spark plug first—if it’s clean, just give it a gentle pull. worst-case, i might have to troubleshoot a bit more," there's a bit of a silence, confusion mostly, "yeah, um- my dad's a plumber.” you didn't exactly understand half the words you'd just said but if it gave you a chance at impressing sam, it was so worth it. she slowly smiles, "impressive..." biting her lip, looking you up and down with newfound admiration. "who knew you had all these hidden talents?" she teases, eyes sparkling with mischief. "maybe you can teach me a thing or two about plumbing after this bath fiasco." the playful banter felt like a breath of fresh air amidst the clamour of everyone scurrying around and arguing, and you couldn’t help but swell with pride. “alright, let’s see if I can live up to the expectation,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you felt. josh looks between the two of you, a devious grin slowly forming on my face, "is this- oh wow. this- this is great!" he turns around, presumably going to find chris and ash, you do the same, not at all looking forward to seeing this 20 year boiler in all it's glory.

fortunately, the boiler hadn't frozen over completely.

the basement was eerie enough, never mind all of the creepy shit happening around you: screams, shouts, smashes. something wasn't right.

like any stereotypical horror movie, you walk right into the danger to find out what was going on."

and as always, you were right. josh's basement was fucked up, led to some sort of mine, where you soon found a battered and bruised mike, stumbling his way through the caved area. his ankle didn't look so good, but he didn't complain

the next half hour you were trying to navigate your way, the poor guy was traumatised, jess had disappeared, dead or alive? not a single clue.

there's apparently somebody or something out there with her and they're in the mines, you're baffled to say the least, but you stayed put.

all until a scream was heard, female, it was far yet so close.

"mike! what was that noise?" the two of you pause your movements, and prick your heads up, faint cries could be heard and the occasional, "anyone! help!" you knew that voice, almost naturally you race over the source of the noise, struggling to find a door, "where's jess? is it her? oh, please say it's her." mike whiles up against the wall while you attempt to barge your way in. "sam! i'm here, mike too. i'm coming in." “almost there!” you shout back to mike, who is still positioned by the flimsy beam of light your flashlights provide. he looks torn between helping you and staying on guard, eyes darting nervously around the oppressive shadows. the urgency in your efforts intensifies, and you feel your fingers digging into the rough surface of the door. it shifts slightly, just enough to give you hope, and with one last shove, it creaks open. you stumble inside, breathless, and immediately the air feels thicker, charged with an unsettling energy. "fuck sam! what the fuck happened?" the girl was tied up in a chair, nothing but a towel. whoever did this must've been fucked in the head, sick. you take a cautious step forward, your eyes zeroing in on the girl’s wide, terrified gaze. “you’re alright now,” you whisper reassuringly, though your own insides are knotting up at the sight. "oh my god, you're here... i- he chased me! th- then-" the blonde leans forwards into you once you complete untying her ankle bounds, sore red marks forming over her pale skin. her arms completely wrap around you, she's freezing. sliding off your hoodie and body warmer, you begin to wrap them around the girl. "-sam, it's okay. you can explain everything later. you safe now we-" but before you can finish your sentence, the girl leans in, connecting your lips in a kiss, short and sweet due to their being a third presence in the room. as your lips part, you both freeze, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden surge of intimacy in the midst of chaos. sam's eyes are wide with surprise, glistening with unshed tears, but there’s a flicker of gratitude behind her fear. you clear your throat, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, but the urgency of the situation quickly pulls you back to reality. "i thought you were dead, y/n.”

after all police interrogation had been completed, those who survived were wasting away. josh dead. matt dead. jess dead. sam and yourself isolated yourselves from the rest.

after sam almost sacrificed herself to save you, you made an oath to yourself that you're forever indebted to her.

you were in love - even amongst the sick and twisted events that you two had to go through.

you both didn't go out as much anymore, your previous party-girl lifestyle completely left behind.

instead you both settled on movie nights or cooking sessions.

you immediately expanded her music taste, she's a great girl but her music taste could definitely do with some improving.

rock climbing dates, kayaking, surfing (which you absolutely smashed - sam could barely stand up on the bored)

sam always managed to convince you to go camping with her, bribing you with all sorts, despite your hatred for bugs.

she's the most peaceful sleeper, she looks like and angel when fast asleep. you're both early birds, which meant you really enjoy spening the morning in bed just admiring one another.

every month or so you'll pay a visit to the friends you lost together, paying respects. hell even josh - sam calls him mentally ill, whereas you call him batshit crazy. but he was your friend, one of our closest, you're still unsure to this day why you were apart of his cruel game but you couldn't keep dwelling on the past so you came to forgive him.

it's even rare to see the friends that made it out alive, you knew chris and ash moved away together, forgetting all that had happened. the last you heard off of mike was "i'm igniting some old flames - definitely going for drinks soon?"

it'd been 3 months and you never went to see him.

you and sam assumed that old flame is emily, your once best friend who you hadn't spoken to since before the disaster.

[otterneuvillette]

✧EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT LOVE✧

⋆🌊— Pairings: neuvillette x fem! reader

⋆🌊— Sypnosis: spending an day with your dear husband neuvillette.

⋆🌊 — content: fem! reader, slightly spicy and just fluffy all around.

*🌊 — A/N: lord I love this man so much and I really think that he would be the type of husband to call his wife, "wife." Idk maybe it's just me lol.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You were cleaning the living room, you woke up an hour ago to make breakfast for Neuvillette and yourself.

You were humming to yourself before a sound of the door opening interrupted your musings.

"That scent.”

Neuvillette approaches, his tall frame large enough to fill your entire field of vision.

With a gentle touch, he cupped your cheek and leans in, playfully nuzzling the top of your hair. "Were you using my shampoo, wife?”

He couldn’t deny it was nice. You smelled like him, his inner dragon was pleased. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer, his fingers delicately combing through your soft hair.

You used his shampoo when you took a shower last night, Neuvillette stayed in his office for a while longer, plus, you haven't properly had time with him the whole week and you missed him dearly so you decided to use his shampoo so that you could smell like him.

"But it smells really good.....and it makes my hair soft. I'll stop using it if you want me too?"

You said softly, leaning into his touch.

"No, no." He chuckled, his voice deep & velvety, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. He pulled you in close and gently tilted your chin toward him.

"I'm just pointing it out. I like how you smell like me, it makes me happy." he said, offering you a small smile

In that moment, you noticed how he seemed more loving and open, a stark contrast to the reserved persona he usually projected in court.

You smiled in reply.

"Hmm.. but I think I know something that smells even better." he smiled, seemingly Innocent. But you knew that look in his eyes.

He retracted his hand that was stroking your hair and reached up with both hands, holding your face, and brought his cheek to yours, leaning in as if he wanted to whisper something into your ear.

Before you could ask what he wanted to say, however, his lips were pressing against your ear, lightly nipping at it, followed by a few nibbles. They stayed there for a moment, before he pulled away with a slight chuckle.

"You taste just as good." he whispered.

"How is that relevant to smelling good?!" You whined, flustered.

You weren't expecting him to be like this at all, usually he's more.... subtle with his affection towards you, due to the lack of knowledge of human intimacy.

You suspect a certain man with a short black and grey hair to be the culprit.

Neuvillette chuckled, his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

"You're so cute." he whispered, leaning in again, this time his warm lips landing directly on yours.

The kiss wasn't deep or passionate, though it was filled with affection. An apology for being away for so long.

He pulled away after a moment, his eyes full of adoration. He reached up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear in a gesture of fondness.

"I think I want to taste you again, it has been a while, no? "

"I'm sorry for being so busy lately, mon chérie." he said sadly, yet his gaze falling to your neck as a low murmur escaped him.

In that instance, he seemed a bit more than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, as if the position had only served to restrain his true, more amorous persona.

He was now your husband, lover and your complete half.

"Let me make it up to you, wife." he whispered, his voice low, but his tone laced with a slight playful edge.

He lightly tilted his head downward, brushing your hair back to reveal your neck which became the focus of his kisses. His breaths were warm against your skin, his mouth pressed directly against it as he kissed and nibbled at the side of your neck.

"You taste better than I remembered." he whispered, his lips trailing lower before he placed another light kiss on the skin just below your collarbone.

Your mind was starting to fade into a state of pleasure but then a thought resurfaced.

"But my love, I have errands to do today."

You said with a sigh, you totally forgot about your plans today.

You ran a well-known boutique in Fontaine, and on some days, you'd stop by and see how your business was going, listening to your staff's reports or complaints about some customers or certain products sales.

"Is that so?" Neuvillette tilted his head back up to meet your gaze, now accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm not going to be denied my duty this time." He said, his tone was serious, he really meant it when he said that he was going to make it up to you.

You shuddered slightly at the memories of the last time you denied his "duty". You swear you could still feel it.

"Is something wrong, love?" Neuvillette softly grinned, his eyes shifting from your lips to your cheeks.

He knew that look. The slight tremble in your voice, the way your cheeks seemed to flush slightly under his attentions, the way you bit your lower lip as if to distract yourself in an attempt to control the arousal he knew you felt.

"Oh, mon chérie ..." he leaned in, his lips grazing your jaw and cheek as he spoke. "I can see you're enjoying this."

"My love....I really need to do my errands today, today is a very important day." You said softly, stroking his white locks gently.

You felt guilty for denying him.

"Very important, are they?" Neuvillette chuckled, his eyes wandering down to your neck.

He brought his lips to your skin again, kissing you once more, before leaning in close and whispering in your ear.

"Well...if you say that...." he said, his tone teasing as he brushed his fingertips down your cheek.

"Perhaps.. I should join you on these errands.." he continued, his lips again returning to your neck. "Surely you wouldn't mind the company..?"

"You're not going to work today?" You asked, eyes widened slightly. He rarely takes the day off, so this was a surprise to you.

Neuvillette nipped at your skin once more, his eyes darting back up to meet yours.

"I think I can afford to take a day away from my duties. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave you alone for too long."

His fingers lightly brushed your thigh, his free hand still running through your hair, the affection in his eyes apparent.

"It's not every day I get to spend time with my beloved wife." He said, eyes filled with so much adoration. You felt your heart beat faster.

After a moment, Neuvillette took a few steps back, his hands still running through your hair the whole time.

He smiled sweetly at your flustered expression, his tone teasing.

"And what, exactly are these errands, my love? You know I enjoy helping you with these things." he chuckled, he opted to caress your head instead, like you were a cat.

"Stocking up on our groceries, checking in on my store....hmm, what else...." You trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as you try to remember what else that you had planned on doing.

Neuvillette was smiling the whole time as he watched you think. His gaze softens, he truly misses you, he couldn't stop thinking about your well-being every time he pulls an all nighter at work. He felt like he had failed as your partner then.

And he'll try his hardest to make it up to you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

"Let us freshen up then we can go out." You said, giving Neuvillette a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom.

"I'll join you. I want to make sure you're dressed in something that properly highlights your beauty." he said, following you.

You already stripped and were heading in the shower before Neuvillette stopped you by gently wrapping his arms around your waist

"But, I'd like to get a proper look at that figure now that you're so close.." He thought.

He leaned down, brushing his lips along your bare shoulder as he smiled up at you. "You're so beautiful...would you be a dear and turn around for me."

You giggled as you turned. "You are an insatiable man, my love, how unbecoming of you, husband~" You teased.

Neuvillette chuckled, his lips coming to kiss your neck again. He let his lips linger against your skin, his fingers slowly trailing along your waist.

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing, my love? Can't a man appreciate his beloved's beauty?" he teased back.

"You're too irresistible, mon chéire."

As if to prove his point, he leaned down once more, placing an intimate nip just under the curve of your neck.

Neuvillette began nibbling at that same spot, his breath becoming warm as he blew gently against it, before his mouth trailed down to your ear once more.

“How does that feel, my love? Can I do that to other parts of your body..?” he whispered.

His free hand continued to gently explore your body, leaving your skin covered in light kisses and nibbles. “I can't wait to find out how other parts of you taste." he said, growling slightly.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

After both of you had freshened up a bit and gotten ready to go out, Neuvillette slipped on his suit, his white hair still slightly damp.

He straightened the collar of his jacket, seeming a bit more refined than he had when he first stepped out of bed. His face, though still a bit flushed from their morning fun, returned to his usual stern expression, the faintest smile playing across his lips.

“Ready, my love?” he asked as he took your hand, his eyes shifting to meet your own.

"Almost, would you be a dear and help me with this necklace?" You gestured to the necklace he bought for you during your anniversary.

"Of course, my love." Neuvillette took the necklace in one of his hands, his fingers finding the clasp that held it together.

He gave a little tug, which made the necklace unclasp and fall open in his other hand. He smiled sweetly at you as he brought the necklace to your neck, resting it along your bare skin.

"There we go..." he said softly, his fingertips resting lightly on your shoulders, he kissed the nape of neck.

"You look beautiful, my dear."

"Thank you, dear." You said, giving Neuvillette a kiss on the cheek.

Neuvillette returned your cheek kiss, his lips lingering for a moment on your skin. His free hand gently brushed through your hair, the gesture affectionate and tender.

"Let's be off to your errands, shall we?" he asked, as he opened the door for you to walk through. You nodded and the both of you exited the house.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Neuvillette held your hand the whole time, his head tilted down toward yours. Even though you did have things to do, he was in no hurry to finish them.

His steps were slow and relaxed, and at one point he brought you in close and pulled you against him, letting his arm run along your waist as he did so.

"You're so precious, my love." he whispered, nuzzling against your neck.

"Husband....we're in public, what if a reporter sees us?" You whispered, panicking slightly.

Neuvillette chuckled softly when you mentioned that you were in public.

"I know, my love..." he said with a sly chuckle. "But I have a sudden urge to kiss my wife.." He leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a delicate kiss before he pulled away and glanced at you with a teasing smile.

"Besides, it's just a little show of affection between husband and wife.. right?" he asked teasingly.

You hid your face on his shoulder in embarrassment.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You made it to the store where you needed to restock on some groceries, and Neuvillette let go of your hand to help you shop. He took hold of the basket and was the one to grab the items you needed.

Once you were done, he took you by the hand once more, his other hand lightly squeezing your hip. You both managed to complete your errands, and as promised, Neuvillette made sure to show you some affection.

"Shall we be off to the other errand?" he asked playfully, gently kissing you on the cheek.

The both you headed towards the direction of your boutique, you hummed a tune you picked up from a nearby café.

You stopped by your boutique, giving it a quick check to make sure it was all in order. There wasn't much work you needed to do in there, as you had hired staff to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Neuvillette held onto your hand the whole time, gently gripping you as he nuzzled his face against your neck. "I love you." he softly whispered.

You whispered a soft "I love you too" back.

You both then headed back to the direction of your apartment, and as you walked, Neuvillette's hand shifted so it was draped across your shoulder.

The evening was pleasant, and it felt even better with Neuvillette by your side.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

[maldaptivedreamer]

From Afar P. 7

With your heart aching and your ego is bruised, can you bring yourself to forgive him? Will you give him the chance to fix what he broke?… Is he worth a second chance?

content: Errors and mistakes, not entirely accurate to alien universe, angst with happy ending, name calling (asshole, darling, etc.)

wc: ~2.9

a/n: I'm not sure about how I feel about the ending, but I did try to make it happy. Didn't wanna draw things out too much, but not sure if it landed. Feels kinda rushed. Anyway, thanks for reading!

Masterlist     

Work had been a shitshow. The lack of sleep was starting to take its toll on your body, and the constant ache in your muscles only worsened throughout the day.

You accidentally dropped your drill, and the loud clanging noise reverberated through the stuffy tunnel. Normally, everyone kept to themselves and ignored the sounds of their coworkers, focused on meeting their quota by the end of their shift. But this time, all eyes were on you. A nearby worker shouted over the deafening noises, “Damn, I feel sorry for that bastard.”

Finishing your shift and returning your drill, you couldn't help but agree with their sentiment. The attendant quickly noticed the damaged drill and tsked disapprovingly before adding more time to your work contract as compensation for the damage.

Ultimately, your shift ended with more time owed than less.

As you near your front door, all you can think about is a long shower and crawling into bed.

Lost in thought, you almost miss the figure sitting on your doorstep until you're only a few doors away. Gnawing on your lip, you sigh and begin to mentally prepare yourself.

Schooling your face into an expression of dry neutrality, you apprehensively approach the door. The figure stands up and brushes himself off, his voice shaking with fake enthusiasm, “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.”

Bjorn looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. Almost.

But you know him better than that. Have come to know him more intimately than, dare you say, anyone else ever had.

His stress is evident in the creases on his clothes, the headband he wears with little concern for its placement, and the fidgety movements of his hands as he twists his ring or wipes them on his jeans. It's also visible in the darker shade of pink on his bottom lip from constant biting.

He stands in front of your door, silently pleading for entry. You say nothing, and he swallows hard at your silence.

With a nod and a downward glance, he shuffles his feet in the dirt and speaks, “You, uh… You changed the code to your door, and I wasn’t really able to catch you…” His voice trails off and you simply watch him.

His chest puffs with a deep, audible breath, “Guess you’ve just been busy… I guess. Would you… may I come in?”

Silently, you gesture towards your door, and he quickly moves aside. Your body shields the keypad as you enter the code and unlock the door. Turning to face him, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

Finally speaking, you utter out a simple, “No.” You watch as the hope in his eyes is quickly replaced by desperation.

His voice is rushed as you move to shut the door, “Please! Please… I just want to talk. I want to… to apologize. To say I’m sorry.”

Your neutral expression drops into a frown as you respond with an unforgiving tone, “You just did, why should I let you in? … I’m tired and I’ve had a shit day at work. I’m really, really not in the mood, nor do I have the energy to have this conversation.”

Bjorn forces his anxious eyes to focus on yours as he speaks in a low, watery voice, “You’re right… You’re always right love. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… You’ve given me so many chances. So, so many. And-” His voice becomes choked, “and I fucked every single one of them up… But I’m asking, begging for one more love. Please- just, just to talk.”

You pause before giving him a forced nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your voice is blunt, “Okay, but I need to take a quick shower first, so… just go wait in the kitchen or something.”

Without waiting for his response, you swing open the door and retreat to your room.

As you turn on the faucets and gather a change of clothes, you can still feel his pleading eyes piercing into you from two rooms away.

You briefly lean on the counter with both hands and stretch your tense body. With a grimace, you strip off your clothes and step into the warm stream of water.

As the warm water cascades over you, you feel the strain in your muscles begin to relax. You take a deep breath and decide that this shower will, in fact, not be quick – He’d wasted your time before why not return the favor. Trying to disregard your spiteful thoughts, you focus on clearing your mind before what will surely be a draining conversation.

As you dry off and get dressed, your body pulses with adrenaline. The urge to run or fight is intense and your body tenses with restraint.

Making your way into the kitchen, you can see him sit awkwardly on the chair. Deciding to keep your distance, you force your shaking hands to still as you lean against the kitchen counter.

You roll your eyes and tiredly speak, “Go on then.”

There is a tense silence as Bjorn avoids looking at you. His voice is shaky and falters as he speaks, “I’m sorry.”

Another silence follows, and your grip on the counter tightens. Scoffing with disbelief, your voice sharp, “‘I’m sorry.’ That’s it?"

You push yourself off the counter, fists clenched and hissing with frustration. “You can’t even bother to look me in the fucking eye?… What? What did you think this was gonnna be, huh?” you seethe. You pause to let your question hang in the air before continuing.

You stare at him as your brows are furrowed in anger. Scoffing, you begin to pace on the kitchen floor, “Nothing to say? Is it because you thought that you’d come here… say sorry… and then everything would be, okay?”

Your pacing on the kitchen floor intensifies as Bjorn swallows, watching you rub your hands across your face. "No, I-" he begins.

Cutting him off, you continue with a bitter tone, “No? You didn’t come here expecting make up sex? Or better yet, angry sex? … You never really wanted to talk about any of this,” you gesture between you angrily, “That was the problem, but now that I’m done… You want to fix it…”

Your voice falters and you feel treacherous tears cloud your eyes, “You know… It hurt… It fucking hurt when you repeatedly, repeatedly kept putting the conversation off?

Dragging a harsh hand through your hair and chest heaving, you hiss, “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to be with someone everyone calls an asshole?”

Your voice turns mocking, “They were joking, sure. But I’m not finding the joke very funny right now… I have been soo patient with you. Why do you think that was?”

Not pausing for him to answer, your voice holds so much sorrow and anger, “Because I fucking liked you Bjorn.”

“Liked?”, he chokes out, pain evident on his face.

Slowly nodding, you give him a sarcastic smile, “Yeah liked… Did you think that I stayed and put up with your shit because of the sex? No," you scoff and laugh bitterly.

Leaning on the counter with your head down, your voice is now quiet, “I stayed because I started to fucking like you. The humiliating thing is I really, really liked you.”

Both of you remain silent as you process the weight of your words. The surge of anger and adrenaline may have given you a temporary boost, but now you feel completely drained. Your body slumps as all the emotions that you had been suppressing finally spill out. The argument has left you with an empty feeling in your chest.

When Bjorn finally speaks, his voice is laced with guilt. He stands up, gesturing with open hands as he apologizes, “I understand… and I am so, so sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, for hurting you. I’m sorry for how much I’ve put you through.” There is a pause as he gathers his thoughts, it gives you a chance to do the same. You allow yourself to slide down to the floor, your limbs feeling exhausted and useless.

His face is open and genuine, with gleaming eyes that never waver from your gaze. The pain in your chest intensifies as he lowers himself to the ground, settling a few feet away from you.

Bjorn lets out a wet laugh as he speaks, “You’re right. I’m an asshole, I can be one, but never to you. I never wanted to be that to you. I…”

He draws in a deep breath and licks his dry lips. His hands ball into fists as he struggles against the urge to reach out and touch yours. A few stray tears slide down his flushed cheeks, “I want a relationship with you. I want to be with you… I want to be your partner if you’ll still have me, and if not… then I would like to be a part of your life. I… care about you. I really, really like you. I don’t exactly know if what we have… had… was love, but it was the closest thing I’ve ever come to it. I’m not sure if you feel, or felt, the same but I am so fuckin’ sorry that I ruined it darling.”

Bringing himself closer to you, his tone soft and vulnerable, “I want to work on this, on me…” He licks his lips again, searching for the right words, “If not with you then for you. I want to be better.”

You sigh and reach out a trembling hand towards him. Bjorn immediately crawls closer and takes your hand in his. You study his face and shake your head, gently brushing his hair away back, “Bjorn, I don’t want you to change for me. I want you to do it for you… This won’t work if you do it for me. I accept your apology, but I don’t forgive you…”

You can see the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he tentatively reaches out to wipe away your tears. You force yourself to shake your head and raise a hand to do it yourself.

As his hand falls away, you steel yourself and speak firmly despite the heaviness in your chest, “We are not picking up where we left off… As much as I would really like to believe you, I don’t. I don’t trust you. We need to take things slow, to be friends. I just, just need time… I can’t be around you right now. I’m still so angry and I don’t want to start a friendship with you still angry.”

Licking your dry lips, your breaths come out in choppy bursts. A frown creases your face.

Bjorn swallows hard and gives you space. His voice is strained - it's hard to tell if it's from hurt or hope or both - when he speaks again, “Thank you lo-”

You quickly interrupt him, “And don’t, don’t call me love. It’s-”, you pause, “Nicknames need to be kept to a minimum, but don’t call me love. Please.”

A small part of you is hopeful, cautiously hopeful. Very cautiously hopeful.

“Easy darling, you’ll end up cuttin’ yourself if you keep on,” Bjorn’s teasing and stupidly annoying voice reaches your ears.

Groaning, you flip him off, “Then fucking help me asshat.”

He throws his head back in a laugh as he uncrosses his arms. Pushing himself from the wall he’d leant on, he makes his way toward you.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles, reaching out to you. Your face scrunches with one final attempt before begrudgingly handing the bottle to him. Sitting by you, his fingers brush yours as they grasp the neck of the bottle. You try to ignore the warmth that spreads through your body at his touch.

Bjorn effortlessly opens the beer, and he hands it to you. You purposefully brush your fingers against his as he speaks.

“There you are darling,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly low and serious. Feeling drawn to his blue eyes, you meet his intense gaze. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

Shaking yourself out of it, you clear your throat. "Thanks," you mutter.

Sighing, you try to focus on why you asked him here in the first place. Your voice is noticeably worried as you speak, “Tyler and Navarro will be distracting Kay, so I need help setting everything up for her. So, can you help me? There’s a lot I wanna to get done.”

Bjorn grins, the earlier tension dissipating. "Depends. What's in it for me?"

As you focus on his familiar teasing, the stress dissipates. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. "The pleasure of my company, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," he drawls. "Because that's such a treat."

Your playful tone reaches his ears as he nudges you, "Oh please, you love my company. You’re always around, practically obsessed with me... Who knows maybe one day I’m gonna find a way to get rid of your annoying ass.”

He stretches out next to you as he speaks, “Come now darling, you’d miss me and my pretty face too much.”

He tilts his head towards you and his voice is suddenly serious, genuine, “Hey lo-.”

Your heart jumps as you hear his slip up, but you ignore it.

Clearing his throat, he continues, “Course I’ll help with everything. And she’s gonna love it. Everything will be perfect. With her bleeding heart, she would’ve loved just the cake you’d made her, she’ll crash when she sees what you’ve got planned.”

His light nudges bring you back to reality, pulling you out of your racing thoughts. The teasing grin is back on his face, “Relax princess, it’s ‘sposed to be a party.”

You try. You roll your shoulders, but the attempt is useless. It will be, until everything is done, possibly even after.

Watching you, he bites his lip briefly before furrowing his brows, “C’mon, we’ll work on fixin’ it til everything looks good, yeah?”

Glancing at him, your eyes hold a genuine appreciation for him. Appreciation for more than just his help with Kay’s party.

Holding air in your cheeks, you nod at him. Bjorn’s smile is enough to slightly lessen the anxiety in your chest.

With his reassurance and comforting presence beside you, you become lost in your thoughts.

It took a considerable amount of time and effort to get where you both are now, but you are grateful that you allowed him back into your life. You thought you had strong feelings for him before, but they have only intensified since then.

Bjorn has changed; you have seen how hard he's worked to improve himself and to be better. Everyone around him has noticed; all of them mentioning that he is significantly more tolerable now, attributing that change to you. You don’t want to take the credit for his hard work to change, but… his relationship with you did play a significant role in motivating him to change.

You pause your thoughts and sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye.

He gets up to grab another beer and stumbles over the trash on the floor, cursing under his breath. You can't help but release a small, breathless giggle, causing him to turn towards you with a playful glare.

The smile on your face softens as he makes his way back towards you. You both sit in silence before your gentle voice breaks it, “I forgive you Bjorn.”

You shift your gaze from the people around you to his pretty blue eyes, "I forgive you," you say softly. "And maybe not now… but if you wanna start dating, start a relationship together… then I’m ready.”

A wide grin spreads across his face at your words, and he bites his lip to contain it. You can't help but smile in return.

The warm feeling in your chest intensifies as he takes your hand in his. Squeezing your clasped hands, he swallows.

Bjorn's eyes shine with emotion as he gazes at you, he squeezes your hand tighter. "Are you sure?" he asks softly, his voice filled with hope and a hint of disbelief.

You squeeze his hand back, feeling a surge of warmth at his consideration. "I'm sure. We've taken things slow, built a friendship. I trust you again, Bjorn. And I..." You pause, gathering your courage. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

His breath catches and for a moment he's speechless. Then a brilliant smile spreads across his face. "I love you too," he murmurs.

Bjorn lets out a shaky breath, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you," he murmurs against your skin. "I promise I won't let you down this time. I'll do whatever it takes to make this work."

You can't help but smile at the sincerity in his voice. "I know you will. We'll make it work together."

Bjorn leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want. But you don't. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

Pulling away, you feel the familiar warmth of his forehead against yours. You laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb, teasingly saying, “That’s all you’re getting til you take me out on a date.”

His warm breath tickles your face as he chuckles, "A date, huh?" Bjorn murmurs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think I can manage that.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and you lean into him, both of you lost in comfortable silence. Kissing your forehead, Bjorn's arms feel like home.

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing(s) : (seperate) omen, chamber & jett x gender neutral reader

↳ synopsis : sleep was almost impossible of the three, but with you, it was almost effortless.

↳ authors note : happy pride month!!! :: i think to stop writers block i have to actually start writing of different fandoms,, sorry hsr fans, hello valorant ones (pls exist)

OMEN didn't really.. need to sleep. He doesn't need most things that humans did actually, and preferred to spend his hours of the night knitting or working on a few plants.

So he didn't really know how to feel about 'falling asleep together', an idea suggested to you after a few months of dating and wanted to be cuddling your partner before falling alseep.

You can imagine how awkward he is when he first gets into bed, how he's unsure on how to put his arms around you in a way that you feel comfortable or even the sensation of being so close to someone for 8 hours. You didn't really mind, just letting him experiment and try to figure out what felt right.

However after a few minutes, oddly enough and almost like a cat, Omen warms up to this feeling. If he could smile, he definitely would be. He's content with the position you both settled with, your back against his chest with his arms and legs over you. You could say he's the big spoon and you're the little spoon, not that it was really surprising considering the shadow man was quite tall.

"You okay?" You'll whisper, looking up at him and watched as he nodded back slightly. "I.. like this feeling." He replies, his voice soft despite the usual hoarse coming from it. "I'm glad." A smile is evident on your expression and that makes Omen happy, his grip around you tightening slightly as you two finally drift off.

JETT's lack of sleep usually came from how often she wanted to train. Of course, having a best friend like Phoenix always meant wanting to one-up the other person in every single way, and Jett was making sure she remained on top no matter what.

When you expressed your concern for her lack of rest, she briefly brushed it off and said she could handle it because of how often she went days without sleeping.

That didn't make you feel any better.

So here she is, begrudingly laying in bed with you by her side. Jett has her back turned to you, hugging herself as she grumbled every now and then.

"You know, neither of us are going to fall asleep if you act like that."

She can't see you, but the sound of bedsheets shuffling are enough of an indication that you turned to face her. "I know.. that you're not the best with people.. but you can try for me, can't you..?" You asked quietly, almost a whisper, you loved Jett with all your heart and you couldn't dream of ever forcing her to do something ahe didn't want. And so you just waited for an answer.

To your surprise and in a swift move, Jett turns around to wrap her arms around you and pull you close to her. Head resting into the crook of your neck as you're left to be stunned for a few seconds, before beginning to chuckle softly and return the gesture with your own arms engulfing her into a cuddling position.

You hold back a few giggles at how quickly she fell asleep in your embrace.

CHAMBER was a man who prioritized his own interests above everyone elses, so for many years he had grown used to sleepless nights either for weapon making or business reasons, whichever one he felt like prioritizing first. (Which was always the weapon making.)

At first, he found it cute whenever you tried to stay up with him until he'd grow tired and just go to bed but it didn't last long whenever he saw you tired around HQ and felt guilty for your exhaustion.

The man loves you far too much, so the day after he wanted to try and finally sleep early just so he wouldn't have to see you barely make it through work with 3 hours of rest.

However, with his body so used to staying awake, the French Marksman struggled in finding an ounce of a tired feeling in his body. His mind racing with thoughts of anything else he could be doing at the moment, until he feels you bury yourself closer into him to feel his warmth.

Maybe he was madly inlove, maybe the several hours of sleep he missed was getting to him, but it was like that a single touch from you had him in a sleepy trance.

You're already asleep, just your body naturally wanting to be closer to the man you loved most, but Chamber plants soft and quick kisses on your nose, cheek and lips while whispering a 'Thank you.' after each one. Eventually falling asleep in the comfort of your warmth.

[bumblesimagines]

Karen Sirko

it was just for fun.

did you tell anyone we hooked up?

i've moved on, and so should you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical DJATS warnings, mentions of Billy addictions, mentions of drug usage, angst?, sad ending?, suggestive/BRIEF sexual content

Sorry for lack of activity! I got lost in the sauce of Stardew Valley 😔

As much as Karen desired to get hammered and dance the night away, her nerves jittered with anxiety, rendering her uncomfortable and almost irritable as she nursed a beer and remained seated on a couch pushed up against the corner of the room. She desperately wanted to get up and enjoy the party Camilla had so lovingly created in celebration of Warren's birthday but she simply couldn't. Not when he had yet to arrive. 

Long before joining any sort of band, Karen had made a very clear rule for herself: never date a fellow bandmate under any circumstances. She refused to be known as 'the girlfriend' in any band, let alone to the whole world; but of course, nothing could ever go according to plan. Especially after Daisy Jones and (Y/N) (L/N) joined them, filling the spot of the last sixth member and adding 'Daisy Jones and' to their band name. 

The two had been whirlwinds from the get-go if Karen had to be honest. Daisy Jones was a gorgeous girl full of spirit and a stubborn attitude that oft' clashed with Billy but she was sweet and Karen could see the fragility behind her big doe eyes, always at the edge of a cliff just as Billy had once been.

(Y/N) was a handsome young man with a talent for playing bass and a love for mischief, something that had him and Warren gravitating toward each other the second they met (though Karen assumed doing shrooms together fully cemented their friendship). The idea of another guy joining the band unnerved Karen but after watching how (Y/N) handled Daisy, comfortability settled on her bones fairly quickly. 

And that comfortability- annoyingly enough- turned into attraction over the next few weeks, leading to a tipsy make-out by the side of the house where (Y/N)'s hand found its way down her pants. The image of (Y/N) popping his slick, wet fingers into his mouth to clean them while giving her a lazy yet cheeky smirk had imprinted in her mind for days to come, leaving her to mess up during practice when she'd been too busy staring at his hands. She should've taken it as a warning, some sort of sign from God or the universe to leave the hurricane of a man alone, but she ignored it. 

The second time Karen found herself giving in to her attraction, it'd been after Warren invited (Y/N) over while Daisy and Billy battled out their differences elsewhere under Teddy's urging. She'd managed to convince Warren and Graham to give them some time alone under the guise of sending them out to the store for some essentials, allowing for the two to have another make-out on the couch and subsequent hookup in her nearby bedroom. She found herself surprised when she realized she hardly minded the love marks scattered across her skin, noting with flushed cheeks and a racing heart he'd done them in places she could easily hide. 

After the third time, the ever-observant Camila teasingly noted how much Karen seemed to enjoy (Y/N)'s presence. Karen laughed it off and gave her a playful shove but once inside her room and forced alone with her thoughts, the suffocating thought of commitment and the expectations surrounding relationships consumed her. She'd seen how broken Camila had been the day she discovered his infidelities, the hollowness in her typically vibrant eyes when he'd gone off to rehab and left her to temporarily be a single mother. The thought of dealing with that kind of heartbreak and betrayal nauseated her. 

It led to Karen sitting on that damn couch with a cool beer in hand and darting eyes searching for (Y/N) in the crowd. She had to clear things up, even if her late-night contemplation had left her realizing the thought of dating him made her skin tingle with delight. She refused to be anything other than Karen Sirko; not girlfriend, not wife, absolutely nothing other than the keyboardist for Daisy Jones and The Six. Karen had been free for years, free to do whatever she wished and whomever she desired. All her dreams and goals and hopes for the future never included someone else, yet part of her wanted to change that. 

"(Y/N)! My man!" Warren's gleeful voice reached her ears and she stood up from the coach so quickly she nearly stumbled over her shoes. She set her beer aside and walked through the crowd in the living room until she reached the front door, watching Warren and (Y/N) exchange a tight embrace. "Glad you could make it!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." (Y/N) laughed, a sound so warm and bright it briefly calmed her constricting heart. He handed his gift off to Warren and greeted the Dunne's with an easy-going smile, his attention ultimately falling to her last after patting Eddie's shoulder. 

"We need to talk." She told him, leaning in for a quick embrace before she grasped his wrist and led him further into the house, ensuring they were far from nosy ears and Graham's lingering eyes. The first secluded spot she found was a dimly lit hallway coincidentally leading outside to the very spot they'd first locked lips. She tried forgetting that night.

"What is it?"

"Did you tell anyone we hooked up?" Karen asked him, voice sounding more accusatory than necessary. "Camila... Camila knows something, I guess. I trust her but I don't want the guys to look at me differently."

"I don't kiss and tell." (Y/N) responded, his hands sliding into his pockets and head tilting to the side. "It was just for fun, anyway. Besides, Warren's been begging me to meet his girlfriend's friend for a double date, or something like that. I don't think it'd look good if she knew I hooked up with a bandmate." 

"What?" The word fell from her lips immediately, her eyes widening and her heart squeezing even tighter. Of course, she'd pulled him aside to at least make a half-hearted promise of never doing it again, but hearing he'd been planning on doing the same sucked the air right out of her lungs. 

(Y/N) pursed his lips, only sparing her a sympathetic grimace. "Yeah, I meant to tell you sooner but it slipped my mind. Listen, Karen," He raised his hand and pressed his palm to her cheek, the sympathy on his features making her want to tear her hair out. "You're more talented than the idiots we play with, and I think you're an amazing girl. That said, I've moved on, and so should you. Maybe give Graham a chance? He's got it bad for you." 

Karen remained still as he pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead and stepped out of the hallway, her eyes blankly staring into the wall before her whilst she tried processing everything that'd been dumped on her in a matter of a couple minutes. In the end, she'd gotten what she wanted in the first place, yet her lips quivered and her eyes flooded with tears she refused to shed.

[purplefangirl42]

You're My Favorite

Summary: Silco is a bit insecure about your interest in others, but you're quick to ease his mind.

Pairing: Silco/GN!Reader

A/N: This was part of a gift exchange for my lovely friend @deny-the-issue. Love you lots and lots Jasper 💜

Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Fluff, Silco being jealous, Themes of Insecurity Divider by saradika

A soft huff of annoyance was the sound that greeted you when you entered Silco’s office, which was not exactly what you were expecting. He was usually very happy to see you, as it meant he would have a small distraction from his busy work day.

“Something wrong?” you asked as you sank into the armchair across from his desk.

Silco peered at you over the edge of his laptop screen, the skin between his eyes crinkled as he furrowed his brows at you. Before you could ask again what his problem was, he turned the computer to face you.

You leaned forward to look at what he was showing you and discovered he had the purchase history open for his online shopping account. The list contained many purchases from Jinx, but also a number from yourself. The latest was a set of merchandise for a game you enjoyed, specifically for the character you were a big fan of.

“If you’re upset I used your account, I can pay you back,” you said, trying to not let your own annoyance seep into your tone. “I didn’t think you’d mind me using it though. I’ve used it plenty of times before.”

Silco sat back in his desk chair, turning the computer back around.

“It’s not the money that bothers me, it’s the content,” he said. “Everything has this man’s face on it. As if the big poster at home that I have to walk by every day wasn’t bad enough, now his face will be staring back at me from your clothing?”

Confusion filled your mind at his reaction. He had never expressed an issue with this subject matter before, so you had no idea where this was coming from. 

“At least tell me this one has some flaws,” he continued. “That last character you were fawning over from that TV show was a near perfect human specimen.”

Silco’s last comment echoed through your mind for a few moments before you realized what the problem was. He was feeling self-conscious about his looks and comparing himself to others you showed attraction to. 

This was not the first time something like this had happened. Around the time the two of you started dating, he had expressed concern about your ability to find someone better than him. Someone younger and better looking. Though you had assured him that he was the one you wanted, it seemed that those doubts still lingered to an extent.

You stood up from your chair and made your way around to his side of the desk. He was pointedly not looking at you, focusing on the screen in front of him. When you stopped at his side, you gently placed your hand on the side of his face to turn it towards you.

“Silco? Are you feeling jealous?” you asked.

Silco scowled and let out another huff in response. 

“Of fictional characters? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, giving him a chance to change his answer to the correct one. After a moment, his face relaxed and he gave a resigned sigh.

“I will admit, it’s a bit discouraging to see you so infatuated with these people,” he said. “It just reminds me of what I’m lacking.”

He gestured to the computer screen again and to the phone in your front pocket.

“You surround me with these images and as hard as I try to ignore it, it lingers in my mind.”

You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. The case had a piece of art featuring the character you had just purchased merch for. You turned the phone over and placed it down on the desk so the case was hidden from his view.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Silco said. “I know I’m being ridiculous about something so unimportant. Forget this conversation ever happened.”

You leaned down to be at his level and gently stroked his cheek.

“Silco, you don’t need to apologize for expressing your feelings.”

“You deserve to enjoy things, to go all out. If having these things makes you happy, then I will deal with Mr. What’s-his-name staring at me from every angle.”

You laughed softly at Silco calling the character ‘Mr. What’s-his name’ and reached for your phone again, turning on the screen.

“While he may be all over the place, do you know who I have as my lock screen?” you asked, turning the phone so he could see.

Silco leaned over and looked at the phone and you could see the embarrassed look on his expression fade into something softer. The image on the screen was a picture of the two of you together. Jinx had taken it for you at one of Silco's company parties. She had said the two of you looked cute together, and you had agreed and immediately made it your lock screen. 

“I may enjoy all these beautiful, FICTIONAL, characters,” you said, emphasizing the fact that they were not real. “But you are still my favorite, Silco. You always will be.”

You leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before pulling away and placing the phone back in your pocket. Silco looked up at you with a look of adoration that made your heart swell. You gave him a soft smile and pointed at the screen.

“I’m still getting those by the way, they were a great deal.”

Silco rolled his good eye and you could swear you saw the hint of a smirk on his lips. 

“Yes, darling. I will simply pretend that they do not exist. For you.”

To make things easier for Silco, you placed the items you purchased in your office as soon as they arrived. You had even moved the poster so he wouldn’t have to see it every day. When you watched him walk past the spot the following day, you saw him hesitate and look at the empty wall. He turned his gaze to you with a raised brow, which you responded to with a smile before coming over to wrap your arms around him.

“What happened to What’s-his-name?” Silco asked. “I was just starting to get used to him.”

“He lives in my office now so you don’t have to see him staring at you every day.”

You felt Silco’s arms tighten around you for a few moments before he released you. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and went about his normal routine. You knew he had many things to get done before the holiday break, so you let him go without further conversation.

You started going about doing your own things, getting the house ready for the upcoming holiday. Jinx was going to be coming home from school for two weeks and you wanted the house to look magical when she arrived. Silco wasn’t much help when it came to the decorating process, so it was probably better that he was busy while you did this.

Just as you were putting the finishing touches on one of your decorations, you heard the front door burst open. Before you could turn around, you felt a body slam into you, nearly knocking you to the floor. Blue and pink tipped fingers were visible at the ends of the arms wrapped around your midsection, which gave away the identity of your attacker, as if you didn’t already know.

“Welcome home, Jinx,” you said, patting her hands. “Did you have a good trip here?”

“I don’t think she stopped talking the entire way here from the airport,” came an annoyed grumble behind you.

Turning around in your daughter’s tight grasp, you looked over her head to see a very grumpy looking Sevika standing in the doorway holding Jinx’s paint splattered bags. She dropped them to the floor and held up her hands.

“She’s your problem now,” she said, turning to leave.

“Thank you, Sevika!” you called after her as she departed.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Jinx, listening to her stories about the past semester. You all had plans to go out for dinner once Silco came home from work, so when the time got closer, you disappeared into the bedroom to get ready. You were surprised to find Silco standing there waiting for you.

“When did you get home? I never saw you come in!” you said, walking towards your closest.

“That’s because I told Jinx to distract you so you wouldn’t notice. It would have ruined the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

You stopped in your tracks at the sight of a box sitting on the end table beside the door to the closet. It was long and red with a white bow on top. You reached out for the box and picked it up carefully before turning to face Silco.

“What’s this?”

Silco crossed the room to stand in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back and the hint of a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. He pointed his chin in the direction of the box in your hands, clearly wanting you to open it.

Doing as he wished, you pulled at the white bow, undoing the knot. Lifting the lid from the box, you revealed the contents inside. A beautiful gold bracelet sat inside, nestled in black velvet. You let out a soft gasp as you carefully extracted it from the box, placing the box back down on the end table.

“Silco, this is beautiful!,” you exclaimed. “But, Christmas isn’t for another week!”

“I thought you could wear it tonight when you go for dinner,” he said, stepping closer and taking it from your hands and turning it over. “Look on the back.” 

You looked at where he indicated and saw an engraving that looked very similar to Silco’s handwriting. Your eyes scanned over the words on the metal and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You’re my favorite too. Always have been, always will be.

Your vision blurred slightly as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You looked up to meet Silco’s gaze as the first drop ran down your cheek. Throwing yourself in his direction, you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you like it, darling,” Silco said, returning your embrace.

“Like it? I love it!”

Silco pulled back from the embrace and took your hand in his to guide it to a position where he could attach your gift. Once it was securely in place, he lifted your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“It is just a small token of my love for you. I wanted to ensure that you knew your sentiment was returned.”

“I didn’t need a bracelet to tell me, but it is nice to have it there as a reminder.”

You closed the distance between you once again, kissing Silco softly on the lips. You felt him smile into the kiss and wrap his arms around you to pull you tightly against him. You hoped he truly understood how much you loved him and how important he was to you. Much more than anyone else you could ever meet.

A/N: Give this a like, comment, and reblog and let me know what you think!

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

status of babbit's life yeehaw

tl,dr: busy moving and a couple of other big life things that just complicate things, but well on the way to being back to normal! new fic chapters and better quality art coming soon.

tl,wr (too long, will read):

Helloooo what's up its me, Babbit. or Rabbit. or Bones. or Idiot Moron Menace Child, idk im not picky lol

i know a lot of you guys have been wondering wtf is up with my upload schedule lately and the extreme lack of even basic content and also i am extremely aware that i have not updated my fics in a few millennia and for that i am very, very sorry. this post is to answer a few questions you might have, if anyone was curious about the 'reason' instead of just the 'when.'

my family and i have had a hell of a year, y'all. like, jesus christ, i really hope things level out and calm down for a while once we're moved in to our new apartment bc god damn we are so tired. the list goes: 1. we got kicked out of the house we were renting-to-own bc we wouldn't be able to afford the new rate, so they gave us two months to find a new place to live (not long enough, it turns out) and then foreclosed to get us out. 75% of our belongings were still in the house when we had to leave. that includes all of our christmas ornaments- including the ones kept for decades, and the ones made by me and my siblings, and the fancy ones made from blown glass. 2. the first night out of the house, one of our dogs, freaked out by the strangeness of the situation, panicked and slipped her harness and ran off. that was over a year ago. we haven't seen her since. 3. my cat got very ill and became unable to eat. she passed away almost exactly a year ago. she had been 14-15, and had been my baby since i was maybe 8. 4. one of the tires on my dads car blew out. during the night, while it was parked on the curb so he could put the spare on in the morning, one of the in-tact tires was fucking stolen LMAO 5. we applied to rent at so many places and got rejected so, so many times. it costs money to apply, btw. we're talking like $200+. no, u don't get that money back. 6. i lost my job bc knowing i would have to work 8 hours at a job that stresses me out to the point of exhaustion (at a place where no one takes me seriously and would actively laugh at me when i try to express my need to step away for a minute) sometimes paralyzed me and made me sick to my stomach and made me feel unable to leave the house, and i called out one too many times. a day after my birthday, too! 7. just recently, like within the last week, my dad's car got fuckin totalled!!!!!

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE OFFICIALLY, FINALLY, AFTER A SOLID YEAR, HAVE AN APARTMENT!!!!! I'LL HAVE MY OWN ROOM AGAIN!!! THERE'S AN ENTIRE KITCHEN!!!!!!!

the 'oh god' news is we still have to move in, and replace a lot of the stuff that we just couldn't take with us when we moved out (mostly stuff like bookshelves, dining table, dressers, etc) AND get the few things we could cram into a storage center out and moved into the new place, which isn't a lot but at the same time is more than we can realistically handle on our own. and then, we have to get my mums cats (a pair of kitty sisters that we had to temporarily house with my aunt, who got tired of looking after them and let them outside to be outdoor cats a few months ago. yes, this was an extremely shitty thing to do, and we've been working hard to get them back safely) AND my gecko (who my cousin has been looking after, even tho feeding him worms freaks him out LMAO yes i plan on compensating him) moved in, as well... basically oh my god there is so much to worry about but at the same time it's nice to have to worry about it bc it means we're making progress sdkfhsjdkfhdsjfh

basically i am just so tired but so busy and also thinkin abt so much im so sorry for lack of stuff but i am so looking forward to being able to bounce back, pls stick with me, it'll be sorted out soon i think and then i'll hit y'all with some good stuff i promise!!!!!!!

anyway thank u guys i love u and appreciate u all for sticking around

[sandiavolo]

*Important Update*

Warning: long rants ahead.

Contents Ahead (skip ahead if you want, pls):

Apologies

Thank You's

Avatar 3 News

As the Ash Cloud Passes Over Update

Greetings and salutations all! I would like to start out by saying I am so so so sorry for disappearing for awhile. To put it quite simply, I have no excuses to make nor reasons to claim behind my lack in progress. I have had so much time these last two months to write, and I somehow fell into a constant cycle of procrastination and forgetfulness where I was completely aware of what I was doing. It's not that I even fell off the Avatar fandom or was busy, I'm just a terrible writer (it's natural for me to be overtly honest with myself, I swear it's not worrisome at all!) BUT I am so happy to let y'all know I've gotten back in the groove! Inspiration has hit me hard, and I feel the need to type like there's no tomorrow. Again, I am so sorry for anyone who's ask I may have missed/comment I may not have replied to/or question I left unanswered 🙏

First off, lemme just say this. @anka-partizanka-from-pandora is the SINGLE GREATEST ARTIST AND PERSON I HAVE EVER HAD THE PLEASURE OF WORKING WITH! Truthfully, they deserve your love, you guys! I do not care if it gets tiring or old to hear, b/c I mean it with my entire heart when I say Anka has been holding me up in times of writers block and troubles with writing. They are my partner, friend, & inspiration. I love ya, Anka 💙

I recently saw the videos and images for Avatar 3 and I just gotta say...LET'S. FREAKING. GOOOOOOOOOO!!!! The Ash Clan is sheer horror and I am already in love! The flying creatures are insanely awesome, especially the Medusa floating ship, LIKE WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?! I DON'T KNOW BUT I LOVE IT! And lastly, I'm just gonna put this out there, VARANG HAS LITERALLY STOLEN MY HEART! Sharp claws, frilled headress, a cloak of severed kurus (possibly)?! SLAY QUEEN! I genuinely don't think I will be able to root agasint her, but we'll see. And I do think I will be trying to change up a few things to include what little info we have gotten so far. It's just too good to pass up on!

I am proud to announce that As the Ash Cloud Passes Over Ch. 14 will be published very, very soon. I mean within the next few days 😁 It has been so long, so I plan to send this one off with a bang. I'm talking angst, lore, action, a sick splash of Ash Na'vi Spider, the whole she-bang! And tomorrow, there will even be a special sneak peak!

That is all I wish to say! Now, I must welcome the glorious hug of unconsciousness that is my slumber. I want to go out by saying (to whoever reads this): thank you so much 🙏 This is still a pleasure in my life, and seeing my story grow even without me means everything. But, in all facuality, you guys are my everything. I know we have had our break-ups and silent treatments, but I'll always love you guys 💙💙💙 Have a great day, grab an ice cold tea, and enjoy life y'all!

[captn-trex]

technical devotion, part nine: getting nowhere

content warnings: none :)

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

Kan and Echo had been working undercover for almost two weeks now, and Echo was growing impatient at the lack of action they had seen. He never considered himself to be someone with an itchy trigger finger, but the days of just milling about town, listening in on conversations and watching stormtroopers rotate through their shifts was beginning to grate on him. He felt as if he were being useless, and that was something he really didn't like.

Kan on the other hand, had been plenty busy. She had constructed a sensor for their domicile that would buzz her comm when someone was approaching the house, thus far only having been triggered by Echo. She also put up a camera for the same reason, but she was yet to really use that. She had built a device that Echo had been using, to scan buildings for any sign of this weapon they had found out about, but so far it was not proving fruitful.

At the moment she was working on a new build, a more complicated one that had taken up all of her time from the past few days. The aim was to make a device that could disable anything technological. She had made a small version, which had worked on rendering her comm device useless until she re-configured it, but to make something that would work on a large scale was different.

Kan could tell that Echo was impatient. She often heard him sighing in his room and pacing about in the evening. She had taken to working at the kitchen table, much to Echo's chagrin. There were loose wires and spare parts scattered everywhere, and he'd started just pushing things off of the table when it came time to eat. He did enjoy seeing Kan so much, with her being right outside his bedroom door at all times, but the mess, combined with his agitation about getting nowhere with their assignment, was beginning to annoy him.

Kan was beginning to feel some irritation of her own. She was sat at the kitchen table as she always did, working on soldering together some coils, but she kept getting distracted as Echo sat down, tapped his foot, then stood up, paced about, then sat down and repeated the process. It was driving her insane, but because she felt empathy for why he was so irritable, she kept her mouth shut. Until she couldn't.

“Echo, I'm sorry but… that's really rather distracting” She stopped what she was doing and looked to him.

Echo grunted. He was in a particularly foul mood, and had been for days. Their conversations had not been as lively as they were at the beginning of the mission. He continued to go through his series of motions, and Kan just watched him, unsure of what to really say.

“I'm sick of this. It's time we did something” He finally spoke, voicing his concerns for the first time.

“Echo we don't know anything yet, we can't just go bursting into their base of operations with nothing but a blaster”

“That’s exactly what we're going to do” He said, leaning onto the table and looking at Kan with unwavering seriousness.

“No, we're not” She sighed, her own gaze even and as serious as his, “You know it's not a good idea”

“I'm past good ideas at this point” He spoke exasperatedly, his hand running over his face.

“Echo… we're going to find something soon, I'm going to see that Captain again, I'll try and squeeze some more information out of him” Kan said gently, trying to assuage his building anger.

“I don't want you doing that” He sighed deeply, his eyes trained on Kan.

“Well I don’t exactly want to either, but it's the only lead we have at the moment”

“Yeah, cause I’ve been so useless haven’t I” He grumbled, facing away.

“There's no point getting angry about it” Kan stated, her own irritation bubbling to the surface.

“But I am angry! I haven't been able to find anything out, and now you're saying we can't even try” He raised his voice slightly and Kan frowned deeply.

“It's not my fault” Kan spoke lowly.

“I'm not saying it's your fault, I'm saying that it seems like you don't even want to try” He was shouting now, and Kan stood up.

“What are you-?”

“Is this cause even important to you?” He drew in closer to her.

“Yes, of course it is, it’s just-”

“You don’t get it do you?”

“Echo-”

“No, you don’t know how this feels at all, how could you?”

Kan took a step back from Echo. He was acting so out of character. She could tell he was angry, of course, but the look in his eyes told her his words were coming from a place of sadness.

“You weren’t a part of the war, you don’t know what it was like to be fighting for something bigger than yourself. If you did you wouldn’t be backing down!”

Something in Kan snapped at that, “You don’t even know anything about me!” She shouted back at him, finally matching his tone.

“Then tell me!” He shouted back, complete exasperation taking him over.

Kan stayed silent, her chest heaving as she stared into Echo’s eyes from inches away. She then shook her head and moved towards the stairs. She wasn’t going to be berated over something so ridiculous. Echo grabbed her wrist before she could ascend the stairs.

“Tell me” He said, sternly, though he wasn't shouting this time.

Kan sighed exasperatedly. She was entirely worked up by the argument. She ran a hand over her face angrily and ripped her arm from Echo's grasp.

“I don’t owe you any kind of explanation, but I was involved in the war, so you're wrong. I do know what it was like, and what I know is that risking your life unnecessarily is pointless” Her tone was venomous, her words dripping from her mouth like poison, but her eyes held a deep and profound sadness that Echo hadn’t ever noticed before. As he took in her confession, he realised that he must have really struck a chord.

“You were involved in the war?” He spoke so gently now, his expression confused yet intrigued.

Kan let out an aggressive sigh, “Yes, look, I don't want to talk about it. Find out more about this base and I might actually consider it, but we are not going in blind” She said, the anger melting from her voice with each word, a sternness still lingering.

“I didn't realise you were the one calling the shots now”

Kan missed the small smile on Echo’s lips at his attempt to bridge the gap between them. “Sorry, sir” She said sarcastically and stormed off to her room.

It had been a few days since their argument, and neither Echo nor Kan were feeling man enough, or woman enough, to be the first to clear the air. They had talked, minimally, but it had been small jabbing comments accompanied by a lot of glaring. Mostly from Kan.

Kan tiptoed down the stairs. She didn't need Echo to see her slipping out to spend the evening schmoozing Captain Levy. He had already expressed his distaste for the man, and while she agreed with him, she didn't fancy a telling off for it. She grabbed her jacket and opened the door.

“Where are you off to?”

For kriff sake.

Kan turned to see Echo leaning against his doorframe, just in his blacks. Even in the dim light of the singular bulb in the kitchen, she could see the contours of his toned torso, the size of his biceps as his arms crossed over his chest. Kan ground her jaw. How dare he be looking this good when I'm supposed to be angry with him.

“Out” She said simply, turning to leave.

“Do you really think it's safe to just being going out at night?” Echo challenged.

“I don't think you're really in any position to say that, Mr let's go in guns a-blazing and get ourselves killed for no good reason” Kan replied, her hands on her hips.

Echo sighed and stepped forwards, closing the space between the two of them, “Kan… I don't want to fight with you”

Kan stayed silent. She wanted him to apologise to her.

Echo looked down a her. She had let her hair out, all of it falling down her back, aside from the two beaded sections at the front. She was wearing a tight long-sleeved top that showed just her collarbones, and a neat pair of trousers. A sliver of her hips was on show as the top rode up a little, and he focused his attention back on her face quickly. Kan thought she was going to feint as she watched him drink in her appearance.

“I'm sorry, for the things I said. I've just been so frustrated that we haven't got anywhere yet. I didn't mean to take it out on you” He said sincerely, and Kan immediately let out a long breath.

“I don't want to fight either, it's exhausting, my brain hurts” She held her head in her hands and Echo chuckled.

“I had no idea you played a part in the war, I would have never said-”

“Don't worry about it. I forgive you” Kan said, looking up him again, “I knew you weren't in your right mind to begin with”

Echo smiled, and paused for a moment, “You look really nice by the way”

“Thank you” Kan's cheeks flushed instantly, “I'm going out to meet Captain Levy”

Echo's smile dropped.

“I know it's not the best idea necessarily, and I don't really want to, but he's been asking me ever since we danced together and… you are right, we haven't got anywhere yet, I've just been too preoccupied to really dwell on it” Kan explained.

“Okay” Echo sighed.

“Okay? You'll let me go?”

He chuckled slightly, “You don't really need my permission, but yes, I'll let you go”

“Alright” Kan smiled, and then it faltered as she stepped outside, “I shouldn't be out for long, but don't wait up for me”

“Can’t promise I won't” Echo's mouth curled into a small smirk.

Kan bit back her own smirk, “Okay, I'll see you later then”

As she walked off, Echo called out for her, “Will you just do something for me?”

“Yeah, anything”

Echo hadn't expected that response, but continued despite the fluttering of his heart, “Tell him you have a husband or something, just to… deter him from being too overly friendly”

“Yeah that's a good idea, thank you” Kan smiled, and turned around to walk away.

Echo watched her go with a sigh. He was glad that they were speaking again, and now that they were, he endeavoured to find out in what capacity she had been involved in the war.

Kan stepped into the bar where she had agreed to meet Captain Levy. It was dimly lit, a strip of red lighting along the bar, and a humidity hung in the air as the many bodies inside moved about. Kan tried to think of the last time she had been in a crowd, when Echo had been there with her. She tried to remember the way his hand had felt in hers; safe, protective and comforting. It brought her heartrate down a little, but it was still no match for the real thing.

She looked around for the Captain, but the darkness of the bar had her peering around with narrowed eyes and no luck.

“Looking for someone?” A voice said into her ear from behind, and she jumped, turning to see the Captain with a smirk plastered across his face.

“Captain! You scared me” Kan laughed nervously.

“Please, it’s Drass” He gestured for her to take a seat at one of the booths, “And besides, it's Commander now”

“You got the promotion?”

“Mhm” He leaned over the table as Kan sat down, “Let me get you a drink”

He walked away before Kan could tell him what she wanted, and she sat back with a small exhale. This was not going to be pleasant by any stretch of the imagination.

For the entirety of the evening, the newly promoted Commander waffled on about himself, about how he got into the Imperial command position in the first place, though divulging no information that was of any use to Kan. He bought a few rounds of drinks for himself, while Kan sipped quietly at the unpleasant one he had bought her in the first round. After an hour of this, she resigned herself to just sitting and listening to him natter on, and after a while she tuned him out without him even noticing. She thought the bar was rather charming, dark wood tables and an assortment of local beverages along the back of the bar. Under different circumstances, she'd be enjoying herself in this environment.

Kan opened the front door and dropped her jacket on the floor beside it, sighing deeply. She trudged into the kitchen and slumped down into a chair, placing her head on the table.

“Kan?” Echo called, emerging from his room to see her sat in the darkness, “What's the matter?”

Kan winced as the light turned on, “It just didn't go well, I didn't find anything out”

“It's alright, we can figure out another way” Echo suggested, taking the seat next to her.

“Yeah” She replied despondently.

“Did something happen?” Echo asked, suddenly alarmed at the thought.

“No. No, just- ugh. Kriffing… men” She grunted.

“Um… I'm sorry?” Echo didn’t really know what to say.

Kan chuckled at that, lifting her head from the table, “It's not you”

He smiled just a bit, “What did he do?”

“He just- he wouldn't shut the kriff up for one second to let me ask anything, and then had the gall to suggest going back to his place afterwards as if he'd earned it or something” Kan rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair, “It's just typical”

“Typical? How so?” Echo asked.

“I don’t know, I've just had one too many experiences like that. A lot of guys don't care to hear you talk at all and then expect something in return for buying you a few drinks. It's why I haven't done it in a long time to be honest” Kan sighed, her eyes focused on her fiddling hands.

Echo's brow creased in a small frown, “I don't know how anyone could not want to hear you talk”

Kan looked up at him, feeling her heartrate rising, “What?”

“Uh…” Echo trailed off, “You have a lot of interesting things to say, you know?”

One side of Kan's lips quirked into her usual lazy smile, “Thanks Echo, you too”

He chuckled nervously, “I don't know about that”

“I do” Kan said resolutely, “I love hearing your stories from the war”

Echo gulped, trying to form his next sentence without sounding too much like he was prying, “I'd like to hear some of yours too”

Kan took a deep breath, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she chewed nervously, “Maybe another time”

As Kan stood and went to her bedroom without another word, it suddenly occurred to Echo that whatever Kan was avoiding talking about, whatever war stories she wouldn’t tell, were probably deeply painful. It had seemed to him that Kan lived her life as if she had never known any suffering, always smiling and hopeful. If Kan, who was usually so open and positive, was hiding a part of herself, it was something she wanted to forget. That scared Echo, and it also intrigued him to no end. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Kan.

[sombrashe]

Hi! i recently read your norm maclean x wastelander! reader fic, and i was wondering if you could write another one, basically in the same setting, but when they're already dating? like, it could be a part two to the earlier fic, but also could be read as a stand-alone fic?

sorry if its unclear, but thank you and have a great day!

content blood, graphic depictions of gore and death, ghoul child death, fluff, first confession

note(s) this can be read as a part 2 to this drabble or be read as its own story | thank you for the well wishes!! i hope you enjoy this and have a great day too

You hold your breath as you squeeze yourself through the smaller opening. Your sawed-off shotgun sits heavy in your palms. Hugging it close to your chest you take a few steps into the dark room. It takes a few seconds but a soft green light fills up the room. Looking up you notice the corner of the room crumbled in on itself to leave a large opening to the next room. Sitting in front of the door sits a burned-out husk of a bed. Crunching forwards you make your way towards the large hole. Looking back you watch as Norm inspects parts of the rubble leaving you in occasional darkness. Much of the furniture has been completely burned through and trashed.

"We're not the only people who have been through here."

"I can see that."

You roll your eyes at his scoff. Taking a step through the hole your eyes semi-adjust to the faint darkness. The light of his pip boy gives your eyes something to work with. Shadows dance across the walls. Distracting you enough for your right leg to catch on something.

"Fuck."

You shout quickly and you don't have to wait long before the room is illuminated. Sitting up you gather your gun back into your hands. Looking up you take in the sideways table with a single leg still attached. Sighing you go to hoist yourself up. You're stopped by a hand being shoved in your face. Biting back a remark you take it gratefully and allow Norm to help you onto your feet.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

You remove yourself from his gentle grasp. Heat burning your ears you point his attention to the dingy computer in the corner of the room. A strong wooden desk holding it up even after so many years. He gives you a warm green smile. Moving past you he rummages through his pack. A screwdriver and a few tools you don't know the names of are removed.

"Score."

You grin and wiggle the heavy metal lamp in the air. Norm doesn't look up from his objective and you frown at the lack of attention. Digging out a pack of matches you count yourself lucky as the lamp lights first try. You take one last look at Norm busy with removing the computer's electronic insides. Spinning you walk through the kitchen on the left finding a single can of cram and a half-empty water bottle. Humming you shove them into your rug-sack. Cautiously you start up the stairs and enter a small hallway. Only one door on the left, two on the right, and one more right in front of you. Taking a deep breath you ready your gun and slowly move door to door. The first door leads to a nursery and your heart hammers in your chest as you take in the nearly perfect room. The only thing out of state is blood splattered across the furthest wall. You don't bother going through the room and leave the door cracked as you move on. The second room is a large bedroom with a huge bed pressed underneath a window. This room looks burned out too and you notice the giant hole in the corner. You see another door a little further in but upon hearing the floor scream when you put any weight on it you decide to move on. The third room looks the worst. You gag at the stench before you even open the door. Swinging it open you're horrified at the sight. A family of bodies lies piled in the center of the room. A small child shakes hunched over them. Biting your cheek you take a single step into the room. The room is devoid of any furniture and you wonder where it all went. None of the other rooms had anything extra in them. Another step and you ready your gun. Quiet grunts are being drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears. Steading the gun towards the head you gently call out.

"Excuse me, sweetheart? Are you okay?"

Deep down you know the answer and struggle to keep yourself calm. Watching your fear turn to horror as the child finally faces you. Dark eyes look black in the dim lighting. Chunks of flesh have fallen off to give the little one a skeletal appearance. Every part of them looks so devoid of life and it takes everything in you not to scream. You've seen ghouls before but none ever as young as them. Aiming at their small head you take a few quick breaths before pulling the trigger. It's loud and you drop the gun to cover your ears. Gore splatters across the walls and they fall back into the pile. Dropping to your knees you gag painfully. You don't know how long you stay covering yourself. Norm wouldn't make you wait. Time simply doesn't feel right. You swing your fist back when something touches your shoulder. A shocked shout of your name and you're brought back to now. Letting your arm go limp at your side you're shocked to feel Norm gather you in his arms. What you're more shocked by is how tightly you cling to him. Burying your face into the crook of his neck you squeeze your eyes closed.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm not crying."

You start, trying to push him away as your face burns.

"I never said you were. I know you're not."

You allow him to continue holding you. Only weakly trying to fight him before ultimately relaxing back into his touch. You should be comforting him, he should be the one in a state of shock. Not you. Him.

"I'm not hurt. Just a little shocked. I've never killed a-."

You trail off and go silent. He understands and soothingly rubs at the back of your neck. You allow the time to pass both of you holding the other in strong embraces. Only after the smell starts to gag you do you allow yourself to pull away. Standing you reach out a hand for him. He clasps palm and palm and allows you to hoist him up. Quickly finding your gun you hold it with one hand before picking up the lantern from the floor. With Norm hot on your heels, you both exit the room. Clicking the door shut you steady your gun once again. You point to the last door at the end of the hallway and tell him to stand back. He follows your instructions, but you can feel the anxiety coming off of him in waves. Swinging open the door you're met with nothing but a closet full of towels. Sighing you pick up a few hoping Lucy could sow them into jackets for the upcoming winter.

"There's nothing here but towels."

Kicking the door shut you hook the lamp onto your full bag and hoist it back onto your shoulders. Now that you're with Norm again you decide to snuff it out. Joining him back near the stairs you ask him what he's found as you walk back to the hole in the wall you entered from. He explains how he found a lot of useable wires despite how burned out the shell of the computer was. You respond in the positive despite your mind being elsewhere. So deep elsewhere you don't even hear Norm repeating your name.

"Starlight?" You snap out of your head and look over at him.

"Please don't ever let me go feral."

"Never."

You reach out and squeeze his hand in yours. You're not a sappy person, really you're not. Yet here you were saying something you've never said before.

"I love you, Geek."

"I love you too, Starlight."

His smile is infectious and soon you're both grinning as you walk hand in hand.

[wormtitty]

Kinktober Day 11: biting/marking (daniel/louis)

this one's quite tender. shoutout to danlou nation <3

on AO3 here.

He catches Louis just as he’s leaving the brownstone, nearly comical the way his eyes widen in shock as he takes in Daniel on his doorstep, alone and carrying a beat-up duffel bag. 

His surprise doesn’t last long, taking his bag and welcoming him in. They play catch-up in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the countertops as Daniel gives him the play-by-play of his new book, the latest developments in his relationship with the human girl - Alice, Louis recalls. Apparently she’s pregnant. 

That’s actually the reason Daniel’s here - he needed somewhere to clear his head and Louis had always offered the best advice of any of his friends. And even if they weren’t really friends, he sure made it easy enough to pretend that they were. Daniel plays the part well, inquiring after Louis’ real estate business and art collection, asking where he was headed to before he’d showed up.

With a wave of his hand Louis tells him he was just on his way out to hunt for the night’s meal when he saw Daniel; “But it’s fine, I’m not that hungry right now.”  

“Bullshit, you need to eat. You do look kinda washed out.” He jabs.

“I don’t want to be a bad host, Daniel. You’ve only just arrived.” 

Daniel scoffs. “Just drink from me, then. You forget who I spend my nights with. I’m used to being a walking blood bag. It’s fine, really.”

So Louis nods, bites his lip and steps closer; bracing his hands on the countertop on either side of his body. He blinks, once, nice and slow to give Daniel time to change his mind. He just closes his eyes and waits for the first familiar spike of pain.

He’d intended to maintain his air of easy indifference - and to his credit, he does - until he feels the puff of cool breath centimeters away from the right side of his neck and oh no . He jerks back, slamming his elbow right on the granite countertop with the force of it. 

“Other side.” Daniel blurts. Shit. He’d meant to be a little more cool about it. He takes a second to gather his thoughts. “Not there, Louis. Please.”

Confusion clouds his expression for a split second before the reality of the situation hits. Daniel watches the understanding settle over him like a blanket, hunching his shoulders and curling in on himself. 

Daniel gives the back of his neck a squeeze. “Hey, c’mon. None of that.” Louis still looks uncertain, unmoving where he stands, arms a cage around him. “I still want you to, you know. Bite me, mark me up, I’m game for it all. Just not right there, alright?”

Louis nods, eyes still fixed on the scar on his jugular; angry edges still raised and jagged despite the five years it’s been since that fateful night. The first night they met. “I am sorry, Daniel.”

“I know, I know.” He turns his head to the side, offering himself, blood pounding hot and ready in his veins. “You’re hungry, I can tell. It’s okay. Just heal me up after, okay? I don’t need any more questions if -“ Daniel stops himself, reevaluates, “ When I go back to Alice.”

“Of course,” Louis says into his mind, mouth finally occupied. He drops soft little kisses to the skin of his neck, cool lips soothing where Daniel feels feverish.

This isn’t how it usually goes with the two of them - though with no lack of interest on Daniel’s part. Louis has been content enough just keeping tabs on him, checking in every few months. This is the first time Daniel has paid him a visit in his own home.

It’s the first time since the first time that Louis has tasted his blood.

And Daniel is only human. He’s spent the last couple of years with another vampire unafraid to sink his teeth into Daniel’s flesh any chance he can get, usually ending in a scene that leaves them both naked and bloody and satisfied. So he really should have expected the physical reaction to Louis’s fangs in him, his blood flowing freely and willingly into a hungry mouth.

He realizes he’s hard a few seconds too late, after he’s already lurched closer to Louis, pressing up against the long line of his body. Louis makes a startled sound at his throat, gurgling around his blood. 

Ashamed, Daniel tries to shift back and put some distance between their bodies, but Louis stops him with a gentle hand to his hip. He detaches from his neck, fangs slipping back into his gums as he swallows around a final mouthful of blood. 

Louis looks down between them, arching an eyebrow at the obvious outline of his dick in his pants. Daniel wishes he could crawl under the floorboards and live out the rest of his days in hiding. 

“Listen, it’s not you, I just have a thing about being bitten,” he tries to explain, hiding his flushed face behind his hands. “Sorry, you can keep going. I’ll try not to make it weird.” 

He hears him breathe out a soft laugh. Daniel peeks out from between his fingers. Louis is gazing at him with… fondness? It’s too much, this attention - he shuts his eyes against the sight of him. Yeah, he’d just had the guy’s fangs in his skin, but this is different. 

“Daniel,” Louis drawls, “are you gonna hide there all night, or would you like to do something about this?”

There’s a beat of silence as he ponders this. Daniel makes up his mind in approximately ten seconds. He gives him a slow nod. “Can you… bite me again?” 

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time to get him whining and desperate; rutting clumsily against Louis’ hip, staccato little motions that pulse in time with the pounding of his heart pumping blood into the vampire’s mouth. 

Daniel spills unceremoniously into his boxers, grunting out a quiet “Hah - shit,” the back of Louis’ shirt twisted in his grip. 

Louis withdraws slowly, licking up a little trickle that leaks sluggishly from the puncture wounds in his neck. He’s in the middle of biting his own lip and applying that blood to the wounds when Daniel delves into a fit of giggles, suddenly overcome with laughter.

“Sorry, I just realized you’ve sucked me off twice now and we still haven't even kissed.” He pants out between bouts of hiccuping laughter. 

Louis leans back in close, a giddy smile spreading wide on his face before he closes the distance. The kiss itself is messy, the taste of blood fresh on his lips. Neither of them can seem to stop smiling. It’s perfect. 

They break apart slowly, nudging noses as they pull themselves back and away. Satisfaction curls low in Daniel’s belly.

“Hey.” Louis pats his cheek, notably serious now, and tilts his chin up. “I’m not complaining, you know - far from it - but how come you came to me, and not Armand?”

Daniel scuffs his foot against the laminate flooring. “He’s not responding to my calls at the moment. Last we talked, he pitched a fit about the ring. Stormed off, left me alone on the island.”

“Well,” Louis says, even. “You know you’re always welcome here.” Slowly, he brings his lips to Daniel’s forehead. “Stay however long you need, Danny. Just leave a note if you decide to take off during the day, alright?” 

“Thanks, Louis. I really - yeah. I figured you’d get it.” 

Daniel blows out a long breath and shakes the emotion free from where it catches in his throat. He’s suddenly overcome with lethargy, a heaviness settling over his body. Louis watches him with his charming little half smirk. 

“You look like you could use a nap. Come on, I’ll make up the bed for you.”