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dirtylilspawn · 16 hours ago

Text

ᴍᴀɴʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇᴅ

Summary: You prank the lads boys by aggressively manhandling them.

Fandom: Love & Deepspace

Parings: [Zayne x Fem!Reader, Xavier x Fem!Reader, Caleb x Fem!Reader, Sylus x Fem!Reader, Rafayel x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Works been killin my butt. But anyways I saw many prank tiktok videos about women aggressively handling their own partner. Whether it be kissing them, love bites, or putting them on top of the kitchen counter. Figured it make a funny small prompt of how it would go lol.

Warnings: Fluff & humor, suggestive stuff, cursing

════════════════════════════

ZAYNE

You've been feeling pretty clingy today.

You didn't know what it was that made you feel this way. Maybe just seeing Zayne, waking up in his bed, staying over at his place, not bothered by work, both of you doing very domestic stuff, made you feel really touchy feely. And Zayne was much aware of this notion from the very start of the day. Not that he every denied your loving affection, no not ever.

He accepted every hug or kiss, and returned it with much love. Oh, how it only fuels the fire of your clingy nature even more.

Here you are, coming out from the kitchen, to lean against the wall, with a glass of sweet tea in hand. You tilt the glass towards your mouth as your eyes were trained on one thing in particular.

There Zayne sat on the large couch, in the living room, with a book in hand. His eyes soft but narrowed in focus as he reads the pages, he's currently on. His back leaning on the cushions, skillfully flipped each page with his thumb. As his elbow was pressed against the arm of the couch, with a small portion of a sugar cookie the two of you had baked not long ago, in his hands. He immediately finishes it, taking it into his mouth with a small hum. Licking off any specks of crusts lingering on his fingers.

Watching this perfect, handsome, hunk of man as your sipping your tea just sent you up in orbit. It was too much to take in. Does he know how amazing he is, just sitting there? That's what you thought, the audacity of this man to sit and read so cutely, in his causal home attire -white shirt and grey sweatpants-

You had to do something about it.

You walk up to where Zayne was, placing the cool glass on top of the glass ottoman in the middle of the living room. The clink of the glass made Zayne look up at you. His demeanor calm and relaxed, before looking down at his book.

"Any thoughts about what you'd like for din-"

Before he could even finish that sentence, Zayne was attacked.

He found your hands squeezing his cheeks harshly, pulling him closer to your face. You bend down to kiss him on the lips. His eyes widening in shock and confusion.

But you continue you assault on him.

You kiss him very passionately and aggressively. Hands running along his jet-black locks like a crazy loon, messy up his hair. All while you muttered along his lips, words of affirmation.

"God dang it Zayne! You -kiss- are so -kiss- perfect -kiss- uugh!!"

You start to kiss all over his face. To his cheeks, forehead, nose, eyes, and anywhere else you could get your lips on. His book on the floor, as he had already dropped it do to your aggressive love session. His eyes still wide with so much confusion.

It didn't even stop there, as you suddenly push this man, laying his back onto the couch. Pinning him by his shoulders just to keep him still. Your kisses never stopping, as you go lower to his neck, giving him rough kisses down to his collarbone.

Finally, you pull away.

You had found yourself straddling the pour man, your arms still pinning down his upper body.

You look to see his full face that was very much a very funny and cute site. His ears were burning red, hair a mess as he stared at you with such unreadable green eyes. His mouth was slightly agape as if he was trying to figure out what to say to you in that moment. But he closes it, his lips in a tight line, eyes closed, inhaling a long breath to re-catch his own thoughts.

His head leans to the side as he opens his eyes, not looking you in your own eyes. Zayne's heart was pounding in his chest right now.

"You...-sigh-"

You couldn't help but laugh at this site of him. It was too funny to behold, seeing Zayne completely embarrassed and yet flustered at the same time.

"Caught you off guard huh?"

You quip with a prideful smirk on your lips. Zayne brings his eyes to look up at you. You could see he was trying to act all serious, and calm, but it was obviously faltering. As you could see the corners of his mouth flick up in a small grin. His emotions getting the better of him, as he lets out a laugh. A mix between disbelief and fondness.

"Well, I didn't expect to be attacked in my own home by my partner."

He states this, and you laugh even more. An endless supply of giggles and laughter that you couldn't stop. One that Zayne couldn't help but join in, loving the sound of your laughter.

You let go of his shoulders, before leaning down to give a soft kiss to your boyfriend. A sweet smile stretching across your mouth.

"Well, you're just going to have to get use to it. Because there's definitely more to come in the future."

He rolls his eyes at you.

"I fear for my safety."

He says this sarcastically of course, but deep down he's already preparing for the next attack. Just in case, so next time you do this stunt again, he'll be able to calm his heart. Because that shit made him feel like he was having a straight-up heart attack.

════════════════════════════

XAVIER

You were laying on your bed.

Stomach first, as your feet were up in the air. Your hands clutch onto your phone, watching silly videos. Xavier was up in your bathroom taking a shower from a hard day of working. You had already taken a shower first, reasons being that Xavier told you to go in first, and second was because he was already on the verge of sleep. You were about to say to take a shower together, but the man was already nodding off as he sat on your bed. So, you decided to allow him to take a quick nap while you take your shower.

It has been a long day for the both of you, as you had both just got done with work. A bunch of wanderers to take down here and there, nothing too serious of a threat to get badly hurt, but enough to feel exhausted. And it definitely showed with the both of you, glad that it was the end of the day.

Xavier wanted to come over your apartment, because he finds it more comfortable, and wanted to sleep with you tonight. Plus, you figured he was too lazy to go up to his own apartment complex that was just a floor above yours. You never complain, as you would also come over to his complex and sleep there sometimes.

As you were kicking your feet, over the audio on your phone, you could hear the shower suddenly turn off. Indicating that Xavier was all done with his shower. He soon later came out, opening the door the connected to the bedroom. He lets out a silent yawn; while wiping his hair with a small white towel, a large towel was wrapped around his waist. His body shinning in the dim light from the room lights, due to the excess water cascading down his chest and stomach. You can see his full tempting v-line below his abdomen making your face heat up from the delicious site alone. He looked so appetizing yet cute at the same time.

You turned off your phone, placing the device on the bed-side counter. You sat up before getting off the bed, making strong strides towards your gorgeous boyfriend. His eyes open a bit seeing you coming forth, watch as you wrapped your arms around his torso head leaning on his slight wet chest. You didn't mind though, as you snuggled with him, smelling his freshly showered body. The scent of sweet vanilla filling your nose; he used your body wash.

"Hmm...You smell good."

A goofy smile presents itself on your lips. Xavier smiles softly, leaning in your touch as his own arms wrapped around you. His arms holding onto your shoulders rubbing them gently. The small towel he held was draped securely around his neck. His head buried into your hair, nosed pressed against your hair, smelling you as well.

"So do you.."

He whispers this in a low hum, eyes closed as he embraces you. You could feel his heart beat slow and relaxed inside his chest. Xavier's soft snores making you chuckle. The fact that this man can sleep standing up still amazes you.

"Sleepy?"

"Hm."

Xavier hums again, as if to say yes, his arms holding you closer to his body. His body leans into yours, the weight of him not fully on you, as if he was stopping himself from falling on top of you. You let out a sigh rolling your eyes. The cuteness of this man was just too much; it made you giggle a bit.

Without a thought or hesitation, your hands go lower till you reached the back of his thighs. Xavier can feel this, but he doesn't back away nor think anything of it. That was until you used all of your strength, bending your knees, and you use this strength to pick up your boyfriend. Xavier eyes widen as he was suddenly up from the ground, your struggling of course but still it was an achievement. Carrying your sleepy boy by his own thighs, before waking back to the bed. Xavier was very shaken from this move, his hands clinging to your shoulders as he blushes heavily.

"[Y-Y/N]...what are you doing?"

You smiled looking up at your flustered boyfriend, "Carrying...ngh my exhausted boyfriend of course~"

It was all you said, and only Xavier could look at you with wide eyes and a simple nod of okay. His tiredness going away as he watched his own girlfriend carry him around, he didn't know how to feel about this, but it wasn't unwelcomed.

It wasn't long till you reached the bed, slamming the boy right on to the soft bed, making him lay on his back. His small towel was already gone, falling onto the floor when you picked him up. His other towel wrapped around his waist, was defiantly loose, clinging onto him for dear life. But still covered his crotch.

Once settled onto the bed, you crawled your way in between his thighs, your hands running along up his thighs to his stomach. Making way to his chest then finally his soft cheeks. You squish his cheeks in your hands, body resting on top of his. You lips lean in to kiss him on the nose before moving to his lips. His hands were now at your waist, rubbing your sides.

"Are you sleepy now?"

You say this pulling away, but it seemed like Xavier was chasing your lips. His cheeks were still flushed with pink, but his shock expression turned into a very sweet playful grin. His hands tracing along your back, slightly teasing underneath your tank top you were wearing.

"Not at the moment no."

You were suddenly rolled over, as Xavier had now turned the tables. His body pinning you underneath him, his baby blue eyes looking down at you with so much mischief. His hand made its way to your cheek, stroking it was such softness as if you were a delicate relic.

"I think I'd like to stay up for a little while, how about you~?"

You chuckle as you pulled Xavier by his neck, His face and lips close you yours.

"Sounds fine by me~"

You whispered back before his lips connected with yours passionately.

════════════════════════════

CALEB

Pranks were nothing but natural for you and Caleb.

Ever since you were kids you two would pull all types of small pranks on each other. Not mean big pranks that would cause problems in one's relationship. But small harmless pranks that make each other laugh and keep the relationship more fun and fresher. To get competitive and try to one-up each other the next month or two.

It was your love language.

And it was your turn.

Oh, how you've been dying to try and get Caleb back. You were still pouting over the last prank he did. You could remember it like it was yesterday. The man had deliberately placed fake cockroaches all underneath your bed comforter. You of course did not realize it. Already freaking out with disgust and fear, running to Caleb about your "unfortunate" situation. Hugging and whimpering to him while you pushed him to the problem. Only for him to laugh and say how those cockroaches were all plastic toys.

You then start to curse him, while beating his chest -soft punches- giving him the biggest mean mug pout. One that he finds absolutely adorable. He makes up for this by promising to take you out to this new big carnival that just opened up around the neighborhood.

Today was the day of the carnival.

And both you and Caleb were getting ready that late afternoon. Hoping to get there early and on time for the rides and games.

You closed the door to your shared room, checking your small purse to make sure you got everything you needed. You're wearing a nice yellow blouse, white tank top underneath with a light jean skirt. It wasn't going to be cold, just a nice warm day.

Once you made it to the spacious room where the living room and kitchen connected. You could see your boyfriend turned to you. His back bent a little as his focus was on his phone, scrolling aimlessly, elbows on the kitchen counter. He was dresses up as well, in a very familiar outfit. His sleeveless white logo shirt, with black jeans pants.

He looked so handsome in the moment. His muscular back and shoulders showing of through the white shirt, His long arms, especially his biceps that flexed a bit on top of the kitchen counter. His hips tutting to the side a bit. You couldn't see his face fully, but you could already imagine how he looked. Eyes narrowed but soft, probably biting his lip as he scrolls through whatever feed he's on, all while he's waiting for you.

It was in that moment...you had an opening.

Slowly, you sneak your way over to Caleb. Making sure your sock covered feet won't make any noise against the tile floors. It seems he doesn't notice you at all.

So, taking you only shot as you make it behind him, you hand raises to aim for his ass. Immediately striking him down against his left cheek harshly, causing the man to gasp loudly. His eyes were wide, but before he could turn around and say anything, your hand that slapped his ass, remained there. Giving his ass couple of good squeezes while your chest was flushed against his back.

"Fuck, you're lookin so hot! Look at this ass!"

"[Y/N]..!"

You didn't give him any time what-so-ever. Turning him around roughly, only to push him back. You could see his very shocked and surprised face now. His cheeks full on flushed with red, a face that made you grip his cheeks with on hand to pull his close to yours. You give him a big fat kiss onto his lips, before pushing him off, making the man look at you dumbfounded.

"Face matches up nicely, not bad at all~"

You tease as your hands rested against his ass, giving his cheeks a squeeze while playing humping his waist. He looks at you so confused, as if you had two heads. There was a moment of pure silence. That was until Caleb begins to grin so big that it could hurt, before a big laugh erupts his whole body.

His chest heaving and rumbling as his hand makes it way to cover his eyes in embarrassment but much amusement as well. He couldn't stop laughing, and it made you laugh as well, your hands coming off his ass to just wrap around his torso. Head leaning against his chest.

"W-What was that pipsqueak!?"

Caleb's hand goes down from his face, looking at you with a big playful smirk gracing his lips. You smirk back with a wink.

"Nothing! Can't I appreciate my boyfriend's hotness?"

Caleb chuckles, leaning in to give your forehead a kiss.

"Never said you couldn't...but with a stunt like that, I say you must be getting even with me huh?"

Before you can retort back, Caleb grabs up by the waist using his strong arms. You gasp as you're now in the air, Caleb turning you to the counter so he can settle you done on the cool marble. Your legs wrapped around his waist, as your arms wrapped around his neck. He held your tightly against him.

"I would congratulate you on that prank of yours, but I would be lying saying that prank won't cost ya. We might be a bit late arriving to the carnival. After that bit, how can I possibly let you go...naughty girl~"

He says this as his head moves to your neck to place feathered kisses along your collarbone. It tickled causing you to giggle, the thought of missing the carnival making you wiggle in his hold whining.

"Caleb, nooo..!"

Yeah, you were definitely going to be late.

════════════════════════════

SYLUS

Catching Sylus off guard, can be a very difficult task at hand.

It seemed like no matter what, he always knew what move you were going to make. Calculating each future ten step you would say or do just so he can throw it right back in your face. And it definitely frustrated you.

A fierce man who was hard to take down.

In fact, he was the one catching you off guard. He was the one surprising you the most and getting you all flustered in the cheeks with his devious nonchalant attitude. It's a rare and very rare moment when Sylus was ever caught being flustered. And even in those rare occasions, he can easily and quickly hide it inside, composing himself as if it didn't phase him at all. As if he had already predicted your tricks, before you can ever see his reactions.

And so, you were on a mission.

A mission to complete subdue and fluster your Onychinus leader boyfriend. It took you half a month to come up with any idea. A good top idea to catch this man way off guard, just so you can win. You just wanted win over him, even if it's just one time. To get him stuttering over his words. And finally, you came up with an idea, a brilliant idea, one where you hoped and prayed that it will very much work.

You texted Sylus on how you'll meet him tonight at his place. He of course welcomed this arrival, his home literally opened to only you at any time of the day. You made your way, rushing to the N109 zone to Sylus's grand mansion. Preparing yourself for what was about to happen.

Once there, you greeted both Luke and Kieran who both welcomed you back. Wondering what the rush was, but you could only give them both a question back asking where Sylus was.

"Boss is-"

"-In his office." They both said.

Perfect!

Working out exactly how you wanted.

"Thank you, see ya later!"

They watched as you rushed down the hallway with a very confused but interested look, wondering what you were planning.

Sylus was in his office, just finishing up closing a deal via phone call. He sighed as he leaned against his chair running a hand through his own locks, looking around the room with his ruby red eyes. Mephisto was in his office - more luck for you -, and Sylus was thinking about you. Waiting for you to come to him.

He then hears a knock at the door making his lips curl into a smile. He can tell from just the knock alone that it was you.

"Come on in kitten."

Nothing.

The door didn't open, nor was there any sound before or after that came with it. His brow quirks at this peculiar moment.

"Kitten, I said you can come in."

He says this a bit louder, but again no answer, or door opening. And he was already confused from the start, because normally you'd just barge right in with that innocent smile of yours. But you didn't even do that. So, know Sylus was on edge but gratefully intrigued by what was going on. Wondering what you were planning behind that door.

He gets up from his chair, walking towards the lavish design door. Once he made it and he opens the door, he gets suddenly pulled by the collar of his shirt. His body leaning and his lips quickly connecting to yours. His eyes looked at you, wide and in disbelief but it wasn't over yet.

Using a tackling move on him, you swiftly used your leg to grapple behind his left leg. You used you full weight so that he would fall to the ground with a harsh thud. Your lips still on him as your hands moved to grab his own wrists and pin the above his head so that he wouldn't go anywhere. You were now straddling his waist, kissing him roughly before pulling back to only bite his cheek.

The man gasps as he was still to stunned to speak. He could only watch as you aggressively manhandle him. Your bites moved to his neck which caused Sylus to grunt lowly. His cheeks and ears red, still so confused. His brain trying to regain any semblance of reasoning but failing terribly so.

Once you pulled away to look at him, a big smile came to your lips as you looked at Sylus. His expression was priceless, funny, cute even as he looked up at you. You can finally say you've taken down Sylus.

Sylus clears his throat, lips curling into a smirk, shaking his head from your actions.

"Is...this some type of new fighting strategy of yours? If so, I'm not so keen for you to use it on other people."

You laughed.

"Nope, I just wanted to tackle you into submission. And I finally got you!"

You hear a big rich laugh come from Sylus. The pitch a bit heightened as he found this incredibly silly and adorable. He could just maneuver his way out of your hold easily or even use his evol to overpower you. But he doesn't, liking the proud face you made of finally overpowering him. Using your smart skills to gain the upper hand of the situation. It made his heart jump inside his chest happily.

"You know, if you wanted to over-power me, you could have just asked~"

"That's a load of bull and you know it! As if you'd gone easy on me if I did asked!"

Sylus laughs again, making you roll your eyes at him. But your body suddenly sits up right, as Sylus uses his strength to break from your pinned hands. He traps your arms behind your back with his one strong hand, his other hand gripping your chin gently, thumb rubbing the bottom of your lip. His eyes shooting down to your eyes, with his infamous smirk that made your stomach flip.

"You're right kitten. It's more fun to tease and let you work for your food, then to let you have it easy. But don't worry, I'll be gladly waiting for the next time you try to catch me off gaurd~"

════════════════════════════

RAFAYEL

You and Rafayel decided why not work out together.

Well, more like you were going to work out and train your body. But a certain purple-haired artistic man called before you could even go to your local gym. Of course, you picked up your phone hearing him complain about he was bored. You told him how you were going to the gym, and Raf found that as the perfect moment to come along with your endeavors.

He suggested going to his private gym he uses at home. He says he's been wanting to blow off some steam due to Thomas insisting -more like pestering to Rafayel - to create more art for his gallery. The deadline was almost due and Rafayel has been procrastinating with other projects. Telling Thomas there is no deadline to when it comes to art, he'll feel the inspiration when he feels it. And so here he is with you.

This is honestly a first for you.

Working out with him that is.

Watching that beautiful man stretching his own body with much ease as you both did warm-ups. Seeing his biceps and forearms flex as he does push-ups. The way his abdomen tenses when he did crunches. Or how he looked so pretty on the treadmill, running full laps. Hair bouncing, sweat dripping, muscles moving, ass tempting. Even when he took a few walk breaks you could hear his controlled breathing and pants.

He looked so pretty in those moments, truly you were captured by this handsome siren. God, you felt so lucky in that moment, you could watch him run all day long. So much so that you had completely lost track of time, your mind on auto pilot throughout your whole workout session.

The both of you were panting, sweat dripping down your foreheads, Body sore but refreshed in a way all in a day's good work-out. Rafayel sighs sweeping a hand through his front locks with a relieved sigh escaping his mouth.

"I'm exhausted, I don't know who's working me to death, you or Thomas~"

Rafayel grins while joking making you roll your eyes with a small laugh.

He goes into a corner of the gym. There was L-shaped counter with a sink. A mini refrigerator that was set up top, And a round circular table in the middle. Rafayel immediately went to the fringe to grab a bottle of water. Leaning against the table he unscrews the cap taking a few gulps of cool water down his throat.

You do the same, following your boyfriend, but your eyes were only trained on Rafayel. His left arm, behind him, hand placed upon the white table to stabilize himself. His back a bit arched, showing the indent of his pecks and abs through his black sleeveless tight compressed shirt. His waist looking so snatchable as his legs slightly crossed over one another.

Drinking the cool water did nothing to ease the burning tension inside of you.

Rafayel places his water down on the table, his hand reaching out to his shoulders to rub them a little. All while he rambled on and on about his problems, Thomas nagging, and blah blah blah.

That was it you can't take it anymore.

"I swear, I bet Thomas is calling my phone about no-"

Quickly you made your move on Rafayel. You grab at his thighs tightly making him blush and shut up. But then you start to lift him up, causing the man before you to gasp and wiggle in your hands.

"[Y/N]! Aah w-wait!"

You didn't listen to his gasps and pleas, as you use your full strength to pick him up and place his ass on top of the table. His legs wide and spread for you, almost wrapped around your waist. His water bottle accidently falling, spilling onto parts the table and floor. You kept a good tight hold onto him, giving his thighs a good squeeze,

Your lips meet his to kiss him briefly, a tease at the most. Before moving to his cheeks and nose, even his exposed neck.

Rafayel's hands were on your shoulders, not knowing whether to push you off of hold you close to him. His face was redder than a tomato, ears included, as he watches his own girlfriend assault him like this.

You then pull away with mischievous smirk on your face, all you could see was Rafayel with that sweet brattish pout pursing his plump lips. He looks at you, eyes narrowed but it was soft. Rafayel gives you a look of incredible disbelief and shock from what just happened.

"I-I can't believe, did you just..?!"

You laugh at him, causing his cheeks to flush even more. His eyes looking away from your gleeful face. It was adorable to witness it. Seeing him in this type of position. Your hands moved, sliding up to his ass, you can feel him tensing up, his breath getting heavy as though he was working out again. You gave him gentle pats at first, but them with your right hand gave him a hard smack placed upon his cheek.

Rafayel lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, his eyebrows furrowed in a glare. Looking at you with such a appalled face. He was truly was embarrassed.

"H-Hey watch it!"

"What, are you embarrassed baby~?"

Rafayel says nothing, the nickname only making him groan, letting out a long dramatic sigh. His eyes once again still darted away from your owns.

"This must what it feels like to be a woman, being preyed upon by others. I'm all defenseless here, it's scary thing. My own bodyguard taking advantage of me, in my own gym."

"It's not my fault my boyfriend is so beautiful. You really are, looking so pretty while you worked out today."

Rafael didn't really say anything, but you can he was trying not to let your words get to you. But it was failing, as your compliments only made his heart race even more. Fidgeting while you held on tight to him trying to distract himself with the gym appliances around the room.

"Sooo...you're saying you don't like it?"

You give him another kiss on the cheek playfully, making him turn his head finally towards you. His legs bringing you even closer, wrapping fully around your waist to lock you in. While his hands wrapped around your shoulders. It made you giggle, his actions way louder than his actual words.

"I never said that."

You smile as he can't help but smile back at you. He couldn't prolong his pout anymore, he's just too damn infatuated - and slightly aroused - at this new position of his. He leans in to kiss you on the lips, the kiss starting off as sweet before slowly turning deep and passionate. His eyes haze over with a growing smirk of his own.

"I'm definitely not going be able to finish my art piece now cutie~"

#love and deepspace #lads #headcanons #zayne x reader #caleb x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #fluff

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asce-of-hearts · 2 days ago

Note

hi here's the request I had if I remember it correctly

Could I request a non con with a chubby female reader with either Marco, Sanji, or Katakuri from one piece?

I'll let you decide which character

Thank you for the chance to make a request 😁

Worship

Contents: Yandere!Sanji non-con smut scenario (fem!reader)

more Sanji content here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: NON-CON, FEM!READER, HARD YANDERE, PENETRATIVE SEX, DRUGGING, PANTY STEALING/SNIFFING, PERV SANJI, ORAL SEX (RECIEVING).

Sanji's hands, usually a comforting touch, now become greedy and demanding. Taking, and taking, and taking whatever they want from you.

Ever the gentleman, he didn't use any violence. Instead, he spiked your food, because the thought of having to forcefully pin you down, and hearing you scream for him to stop was too much for him to bear. So, fucking your sleeping, limp body was the best option for him.

You're so beautiful. Your face so cute, and your body so tempting, calling for him to grope and squeeze at the supple skin, to part your thighs and eat you out. Maybe that's what he should be doing, he is going to do it. Slowly, he lifts the skirt of your dress and finds his way to your clothed cunt. He inhales the scent of it, ever the pervert, he could cum just from doing that, his hand already searching for his cock inside his pants, pumping it at a steady pace as he smells you, inhales the heavenly, womanly scent of your precious little pussy. Ah, no culinary product will ever come close to the heavenly scent and taste of a woman's cunt, let alone one as sweet as yours, he was in the most beautiful place he could be, having the time of his life.

His tongue, eventually, came to try and taste you over the cloth. And he moaned, like a bitch in heat as he did so. Face buried between your thighs, eating you like a starved man.

"Mon ange, my sweet darling," He whimpers against the skin, fingers hooking to the side of your —by now— soiled panties and pulling them to the side, allowing him to get a taste of his favorite meal once and for all. He moans when he comes in contact with your clit, sucking at it eagerly, ripping out the softest moans from your parted lips, still submerged in a peaceful slumber. He's deluded, completely lost in your taste against his tongue. "Not even the sweetest honey comes close to how good you taste, mon amour." He laps at your whole cunt, looking up at your sleeping form.

He tries to control himself, pulling away from your cunt to slowly, gently, take your panties off. He smiles, and wraps them around his cock as he starts to eat you out again, furiously masturbating. Not even his dirtiest fantasies could be as good as what he's doing in this instant, the most cruel defiling of your innocent and pliant form, plush thighs peppered with wet kisses and seemingly gentle bites. He can't help himself, he's lost in the bliss of having you all for himself, of tasting you, of loving you like you deserve. His tongue comes inside your pussy, tasting your gummy walls and tongue-fucking you as fast and hard as he can while continuing to pump his cock with your panties in hand. He's breathing hard, grunting and moaning against your skin, and then, finally, he feels it. He cums thick ropes, staining your underwear further. He takes a second to catch his breath, leaning his head over your soft thighs as he comes down from his high. Still, it doesn't last too long for him to come back to his senses, and realize that he still has a lot of work to do, and has to use the time that was given to him by the medication he so carefully selected to feed you with.

He smears your puffy lips with his cum, rubbing your clit with the batter-like substance. His hands spread your legs, digging into the skin as if it was the most fine dough, kneading at the skin of your ass, groping at your tits as he finally pushes himself further, groaning, cumming just as he feels your velvety insides wrap around his cock so perfectly. He's a man possessed, instantly starting to thrust inside you with little to no rhythm, humping you like a dog, mounting you as you're unable to resist.

"My ___, my sweet angel, I love you, oh I love you," He moans, incoherent as he continues to fuck your sleeping form, arms wrapping around you to keep your body close. "You're perfect, you're mine. Mine, mine, mine. I'm making you so mine." his voice is muffled against the skin of your tits, groping them as he buries himself between them, biting and licking, slobbering over them like a dog. He is a dog, your dog, your slave, your everything. As long as he's able to touch you, to fuck you, he will be anything you want. "I'll make sure nobody else is able to love you like me."

ohhhh my love cook ooooooooooh

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!

have a great day/night

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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 days ago

Text

Hurricane - Part 2

{“Sometimes,” Max continues when she remains silent, “people just genuinely want to help. There are no strings attached. Not with me. I just don’t want you stressing about money on top of everything else you’re dealing with.” I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you. The words die on his lips because he knows they’re too much. Too much too fast and he doesn’t want to scare her off.}

warnings/notes: talk of toxic/unsupportive parents, maybe some swearing? As always, thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl for always letting me yap about stupid plot ideas and being the voice of reason when I get too unhinged 😂❤️ pairing: max verstappen x emma meyer (OC) word count: 5.4k (oops)

hurricane master list main master list ask me anything

“Max, I am not using your credit card while you’re gone.” Emma hisses, standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips as she glares at Max Wednesday morning.

From his seat at the kitchen counter across from her, Max narrows his eyes at the tiny blonde, genuinely surprised at the sass coming from her mouth. He’d never really quite understood why some people were so opposed to allowing him to take care of them but in his experience, it was generally those people who needed it the most.

The corner of his mouth tips up and when Emma sees it, her eyes go molten. “Stop smirking at me like you’re going to ignore anything I have to say and do whatever you want anyway.”

“But I am going to ignore anything you say and do whatever I want anyway. Which includes leaving you my credit card while stealing all of yours.”

Emma’s eyes go wide with horror when Max reaches across the counter and plucks her wallet out of the top of her bag. “Max!” She yelps, reaching unsuccessfully for the faded black leather billfold that held all of her credit cards and cash. “I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” He asks, slipping the heavy black card into the front slot while shuffling the other cards around. He sees the panic in her eyes when his fingers brush against the silver and gold cards already there and decides not to push it too far, leaving them untouched instead of making good on his threat. “Can’t grab some groceries because my fridge is empty? Can’t treat yourself to a nice dinner or three while I’m gone?”

“I can’t use your credit card.” She says, eyes fixed on the marble counter that separated her from Max. The words held such weight it felt near impossible to lift her gaze to meet Max’s, even though she could feel the press of his attention pushing heavily into her.

“Can’t or won’t?” Max challenges, lifting his coffee cup to his lips.

Emma lifts her eyes to glare at Max then, struggling to keep from rolling them at him. Picking up her wallet, she fishes out the black card Max had just slipped in there and tosses it back on the counter. “I will not be using your credit card, Max Verstappen.”

Max peers at Emma from over the rim of his cup, brow quirked. This sass was a side of Emma he was unfamiliar with but he didn’t hate it. Not at all. Tucking away that little bit of Emma that he wants to mull over later tonight, he sets his coffee cup down. “Why not? It’s not like you asked me. I’m offering. You need things, right? Need to eat? Until you figure out your next steps…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely with his free hand.

“I’ll figure it out myself.” The words come out sharper than she intends and she winces at how rude she sounds. She can’t help it though. The ingrained mantra, the survival mechanism she’d relied on for years, echoes inside her head and it sounds a lot like her mother: “Figure it out yourself Emma. Don’t be such a burden to everyone. You need to grow up.”

The stubbornness in her voice has something stirring wildly in Max’s chest. Another thing to mull over tonight.

Max leans against the counter, his expression softening as it dawns on him that this is something a bit more deeper than just refusing the kindness of a friend. “Hey,” He says gently, more serious now that he sees how distressed this is making her. “No one is expecting you to figure it all out overnight. You just had the rug ripped out from under you two days ago, it’s okay to not know where you’re going to go next. I’m just trying to help, okay?”

“I know.” Emma mumbles, sliding her fingers through her hair before gathering it up in a ponytail. “I’m just-” She pauses, eyes flicking away from Max’s intense blue eyes. She hated how they pinned her to the spot so easily, reading her like she was an open book, making butterflies stir in ways that she knew was very dangerous. “I’m just not used to it.”

Emma’s admission was small, a tiny crack in the walls she held so solidly in place to protect herself from the outside world, but Max caught onto it so quick. He was good at reading racing lines and telemetry reports, but people were usually a different story. He never really much cared about what other people thought, how they felt, how he made them feel. It took up too much time and space in his head and he just couldn’t find it in him to care, not when there were more important things to focus on. Like winning world championships.

But with Emma it was different.

Every shift in her posture, every dip of her brow, they all meant something to him and he felt like he was going a little crazy every time he oriented himself to her presence the last two days.

“Not used to people helping you?” He asked, gaze intently fixed on those pretty dove grey eyes that he’d been thinking of all last night. He sensed something deeper was going on here, the visceral rejection of his offer spoke of something more at play and anxiety thrummed deep in Max’s gut at the thought of what, or who, had caused her to react like this.

Emma’s fingers twisted the twists of gold that decorated her right hand. A fleeting, unpleasant memory surfaced, completely unbidden: the humiliation of her parents yelling at her back in secondary school after she had needed to ask a friend to borrow a few Euros for lunch on a school trip because she had forgotten her wallet in her locker. Her father had been incensed when he found out about it, raving at her for nearly an hour the evening she had come home and asked for a few bills to pay her friend back.

“You were begging your friends for money? Now everyone is going to think we’re poor and can’t afford to send you on school trips! Why are you always so irresponsible?”

The shame of her mistake and embarrassment of humiliating her family so publicly still lingered all these years later.

“It’s…complicated.” Emma says, voice low. “I was always taught that relying on others just leads to trouble. You end up owing them or they hold it over you as leverage. It’s just easier to do it yourself.”

Max watched as the memory took hold of her right there in the kitchen. He didn’t know what the memory was but he could tell it hadn’t been a pleasant one. The discomfort she felt at his offer was evident in the way she shifted her body away from him, shoulders hunched in on themselves. He could tell there was a deeper story here, a reason the fiery blonde in front of him was so fiercely independent.

It was almost as if she was allergic to kindness.

“Not everyone operates like that, Em.” Max says softly.

Emma’s eyes flick up at the nickname, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Only Victoria ever called her Em.

And now Max.

“Sometimes,” Max continues when she remains silent, “people just genuinely want to help. There are no strings attached. Not with me. I just don’t want you stressing about money on top of everything else you’re dealing with.”

I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you.

The words die on his lips because he knows they’re too much. Too much too fast and he doesn’t want to scare her off.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Max.” Emma confesses, the words tumbling out before she has a chance to stop them. The ingrained fear, the constant awareness of being an inconvenience to everyone around her, bubbles to the surface so violently, goosebumps erupt all over his skin.

A flicker of something unreadable crosses Max’s face. It looks a bit like understanding colored with a touch of sadness. Like he knows exactly what she’s talking about from first hand experience.

He leans forward just fraction of an inch closer to Emma, not taking his eyes off of her.

“You are not a burden. You could never be a burden.” To me, he finishes in his head. “You just need a little help right now and that’s not the end of the world. Just…consider it. Even if it’s just for the small things. A coffee and some groceries, maybe? Whatever you need.”

Max didn’t press further, just turned around and walked towards his bedroom quietly to finish packing, leaving Emma behind to stare at the card like it might just explode if she even touches it.

But when Max returns a while later, suitcase for the next few days trailing behind him, he notices the card isn’t on the counter anymore.

The silence in Max’s apartment stretched, thick and unbroken. It was a jarring change from the noise of the home she had spent the last three weeks living in and while it was somewhat unsettling. Now, it was only the gentle ticking of the clock in the living room that filled the quiet. The first thing she had noticed this morning when she woke up was how delicious the silence sounded, soft and unfocused as she laid in bed, still and quiet, for a over an hour after she had woken up.

But now, the afternoon stretched out before her, the novelty of having the expansive apartment all to herself until Saturday evening had worn off. A nervous, restless energy replaced it and as Emma sat on the couch flicking through the endless streaming services Max subscribed to, she was itching for something to do, someone to talk to.

Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the subtle disarray Max had left in his wake. It wasn’t dirty per say, not really messy either. There was just a distinctly masculine lack of meticulousness that left the apartment feeling slightly chaotic, slightly unhinged and most definitely in need of some organization.

Needing to busy her hands, Emma found herself moving around the apartment absentmindedly tidying the pile of racing magazines here, dusting the surfaces of the racing sim station Max had tucked away in a corner, just trying to make sense out of the quiet chaos. It was a way to occupy her hands, to allow her to feel useful during her stay in this borrowed space, while allowing her mind a chance to wander, to try to figure out what her next move was going to be.

Shortly after finishing organizing the cords around Max’s sim rig, Emma’s phone rings. She smiles when she sees Victoria’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hi, bestie.” Victoria’s cheerful voice fills the quiet apartment. “How is Chalet Verstappen treating you?”

Emma chuckles as she pads over to the overstuffed couch she’d spent too long on already. “It’s…quiet. And surprisingly unorganized. I would have expected more out of a Verstappen.”

Victoria laughed on the other end of the phone. “He certainly missed Jos’ penchant for an immaculate house, didn’t he? If it weren’t for the house keepers he has come every other week, it would be so much worse. Anyway, I didn’t call to talk about my dumb brother. What are you up to? Plotting your next move?”

Emma sighed, tugging the gray cashmere blanket up over her legs. It only took a few moments but as she settled back, sinking into the plush cushions, Jimmy hopped up into her lap. Max had warned her his two cats might be a bit standoffish when she first arrived on Monday night. But to everyone’s surprise Jimmy and Sassy took to Emma instantly.

Even now, with Max gone, the two bengals didn’t seem to miss Max quite as much as he had warned her they would.

“I don’t know. I’m trying.” She scratched at the fur behind Sassy’s ear as the other bengal cat came to sit on the back of the couch, cuddled up into her neck. “I don’t think I want to come home.”

Victoria is silent for a moment, letting the words hang in the air. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Emma rasped, knowing Victoria would be sad to not have her so close by. “You know how my parents are. It’ll be nothing but ‘I told you so’s’ for the next decade. I don’t think I could handle that right now, Vic.”

“I know.” Victoria says softly. “They were never your biggest cheerleaders, huh?”

“Understatement of the century.” Emma mutters, running her fingers over Jimmy’s smooth back. “They thought leaving my teaching job was insane enough. This whole nannying fiasco will just confirm all their worst opinions of me.”

“You were so unhappy teaching though, that’s not a moral failure.” Victoria reminds her. Out of all of Emma’s friends, it was Victoria who had had a front row seat to how her parents had treated her growing up. Sometimes it had felt like Emma spent more time with Victoria at the Verstappen household than she did at her own growing up.

“Miserable.” Emma corrected. “I was totally miserable. The kids were sweet, I loved that part of the job. Seeing their eyes light up when they finally grasped a new concept. But the endless grading? The politics between the parents and admin? It was just too much.” Emma pauses, hand skating over Jimmy’s velvet ears as he napped on her lap. “I felt like I was slowly suffocating.”

“So they wanted you to stay in a place that was killing you?” Victoria challenged, knowing that Emma would use her last breath to defend her parents despite them barely wanting to spare her a second glance most of the time.

“They want stability for me, even if how they execute it is a little…misguided.”

On the other end, Victoria sighed but didn’t argue, knowing that Emma was so close to getting away from the toxic home life.

“I just don’t want to go home and have to be subjected to the hours long lectures of ‘we told you so’ and ‘what are you going to do now that you’ve managed to fail again?’ Because Vic, I don’t even know what my next move is and I’ve been thinking about nothing else since Monday night.”

“So if not home, then what?” Victoria asked gently. “Have you thought about staying in Monaco? Maybe looking for another job there?”

Emma hesitated. The thought of staying in the city despite the last 3 miserable weeks with her nanny family was somewhat appealing. It was certainly better than the alternative option that felt like her only way out. “I don’t know. It feels…scary. Staying here with no sense of direction? But the thought of going back home and facing them is almost worse.”

“Okay.” Victoria says slowly. “You don’t have to make any rash decisions right now. You’re safe at Max’s for the next few days. He’s goin until what, Saturday?”

Emma nodded despite Victoria being unable to see her. “Yeah, Saturday evening is what he said.”

“Perfect. Use this time to breathe. Maybe look at some job postings? I can put some feelers out to the people I know in Monaco, maybe someone has an opening for you. If all else fails I’m sure you could find some families that are looking for a piano tutor.”

Emma’s heart rate ratcheted up as she let out a nervous laugh. “My piano playing days are long over, Vic. You know that. It’s been years.”

Emma’s mother had put her in piano lessons the day she had turned 5 years old, insisting that music helped bring out the genius in children. What she hadn’t expected was Emma falling in love with music instead of using it as a means to be better at math. She loved every bit of the piano: learning new pieces, exploring the way it made her feel. In time it became her outlet, the way she expressed herself. Sitting at the piano had been her refuge growing up. It had been her escape, the only place where she could lose herself and sooth out the anxious noise in her brain that was brought on by the criticisms of her parents.

Emma had begged for singing lessons for 12th birthday one year and had been denied. It wasn’t a worthy enough pursuit, her parents said. There was no way she’d ever make it as a professional musician, she wasn’t good enough and it wasn’t a practical career, so there was no sense in paying for lessons anymore.

Her parents sold the piano the year Emma turned 16.

She hadn’t played since.

“Max still has that piano in his living room, doesn’t he?” Victoria asked, a hint of mischief in her voice.

Emma glanced toward the far corner of the living room where a sleek, black grand piano stood, it’s polished surface flaming in the afternoon light. It looked expensive. Untouched.

“I don’t know. It already feels like I’m intruding in on his space as it is. I don’t want to insert myself even further into his life.”

“He wouldn’t mind, Em. Trust me. He’s got more money than he knows what to do with and he’s genuinely a good guy. Besides, who knows? Maybe it’ll spark something. You were always so talented when it came to music. I was always so jealous.”

A flicker of longing stirred in Emma’s chest as she continued to stare at the piano across the room. The memory of her fingers dancing across the keys, the release she found in the music, how she felt when she finally got a particularly challenging piece nailed finally, those warm and comforting memories wrapped around her, encouraging her to stand up and approach the piano that seemed to be calling her name now.

“Maybe.” She murmured, bare feet padding across the hardwood floor of Max’s living room.

There was no sheet music anywhere to be found and the keys themselves looked to be a little dusty. She tapped one of them, pressing down so softly only a soft note sounded from the instrument. The tone sounded off, not significantly so but Emma knew. She knew that the piano hadn’t been played in ages probably, that it needed a good tuning, but she’d handle that later.

“Just think about it.” Victoria’s voice gently pulled her back to the present. “No pressure. Just give yourself permission to breathe. You don’t have to have all the answers now.”

The conversation ended shortly after with Victoria promising to call tomorrow morning to check in. Emma stayed where she was long after she hung up though, just standing in front of the piano, finger tips barely brushing the ivory keys. It was almost as if she was afraid to really touch it, to bring that kind of happiness back into her life. She was afraid if she allowed that sort of thing in again, it would break her when she inevitably had to give it up. Emma had given up enough already and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to survive another heartbreak.

Max slotted the key into the lock, the click echoing in the quiet hallway outside his apartment door. He had intended to stay in Milton Keynes until Saturday evening, placating Horner and Marko and their requests he show his steady presence at the Red Bull Racing headquarters after a rocky start to the season for the team.

The meetings at HQ had been a masterclass in PR spin, something Red Bull was endlessly good at. It was a carefully orchestrated attempt to quell the impending media storm and fan backlash. Liam, while being a talented driver in his own right, had been shuffled back to the sister team. Max was in disagreement with the move and he had made his thoughts on the subject known pre and post China but in the end, it had been Christian’s call. Max understood the team’s desperation for consistent points and view that Liam wasn’t living up to the expectations, but the way they had done it, the brutal way they had only given Liam 2 races to settle in before making such a drastic move, didn’t sit well with Max.

And the sim time he’s been wanting to get in while he’d been in the UK? An absolute joke. He’d barely gotten an hour in the seat between the endless strategy debates and his PR obligations. The car still felt like a temperamental beast, unpredictable and frustrating from one setup to the next.

It was driving him crazy.

So, Max had cut his losses, mumbled an excuse about needing to be back in Monaco a day early, and had practically sprinted to his jet. He wanted nothing more than to spend the next few nights alone, in his own bed, before he had to leave again for a brutal triple header.

He’d expected quiet when he’d arrived home. Craved the comfort and anonymity he had when he was alone inside those walls. Max knew Emma was still there but the thought of going home with her waiting for him didn’t bother him as much as he’d thought. Having been raised by a father who preached about making sure to stay unattached during the height of his career had left a mark on Max. He shied away form deep human connection more often than not and so the fact that he didn’t mind Emma staying with him for a bit longer was a little foreign to him. A little unsettling.

As Max pushed the door open, a hauntingly beautiful melody drifted towards him from the living room. It was slow, melancholic, each note seemed to carry a profound sense of longing with it as it floated towards him. He couldn’t quite place the song, but he could feel the deep sadness resonating throughout the apartment. There was a quiet outpouring of something intensely personal coming from the piano sitting in the corner of his living room and as Max stood just inside the doorway, he fought the urge to slip right back out of the apartment. He felt like he was intruding on something.

Something pulled him towards the living room though and he moved silently, not wanting to disturb Emma if it really was her playing his long-neglected piano. When he reached the archway to the living room, he stopped, mesmerized by the scene before him.

Emma sat at his grand piano, facing away from him. Her posture was slightly hunched, her blond hair tumbling down around her shoulders in loose waves. Her head was bowed, tilted forward just a bit so she could make out the notes on the sheet music in front of her.

Her fingers moved across the keys with a delicate grace that spoke towards the raw emotion in the music. Each note seemed to resonate with a deep sense of sadness, a quiet outpouring of something intensely personal. Max watched on, captivated, as Emma worked through the piece bit by torturous bit. He could almost feel the weight of her unspoken anxieties, the demons of her past that she was still fighting with today, all of it woven into the fabric of the melody she was making.

Max couldn’t see her face but there was a telltale tremor in her shoulders, a subtle catch in the rhythm of the music that suggested she was not only wrestling with her demons but fighting back tears as well. There weren’t any loud, wrenching sobs. Instead, Emma’s posture trembled with the kind of silent, heart wrenching tears that spoke of a soul laid completely bare.

The final notes of the piece hung in the air, fading slowly into the quiet hum of the Monaco evening that filtered through the closed windows. Emma’s fingers lingered on the keys for a few moments, the silence that slipped through the apartment amplifying the unsteady rhythm of her labored breathing. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until the last few chords but the hot tears that traced silent paths down her cheeks reminded her how much she’d lost in the last few years. The melody of one of her favorite pieces, so achingly beautiful and filled with a gentle sorrow, had somehow unlocked a dam inside her, releasing a tsunami of long buried, deeply guarded feelings.

With a shaky sigh, she finally lifted her hands from the piano, the sudden stillness that blanketed the living room, felt almost jarring. Reaching up to swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand, she turned slightly to see where Jimmy and Sassy had wandered to while she had been occupied elsewhere.

It was then that she caught sight Max.

He was sitting on the large sofa across the room, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting against the back cushions. The dim light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows across his face but Emma could see his eyes fixed on hers, a quiet intensity shining in them as he watched her. She had been so lost in the music, so consumed by her own emotions, that she hadn’t even heard him come in.

A jolt of surprise, bordering on panic, shot through her. Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected him back until late Saturday night. What was he doing here? How much had he heard? What had he seen?

“Max!” The sound of his name left her lips in a startled whisper, his unexpected arriaval making her jump. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic flight of hummingbirds wings against the sudden silence.

She hadn’t meant for anyone to witness that raw, unguarded moments. Shame, hot and prickley, swelled in her chest, painting her cheeks a bright rosy red.

“I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Max replies, lifting himself off the couch before approaching her. He eyed Jimmy, who had leapt up onto the piano bench shortly after Emma had finished playing.

That was an interesting development. Jimmy usually hated strangers.

“You’re back early.” Emma scrambled for something, anything to say to distract herself from the intense way Max was looking at her, like he was really seeing her for the first time.

Max lifts Jimmy off the bench before plopping him down on the floor, taking the cats place next to Emma on the piano bench. It was a short bench, really only meant for one grown adult, so his shoulder brushed hers as his fingers brushed against the sheet music sitting in front of him.

“I wondered what that charge from the music store was last night.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry.” Her apology is instant, like a reflex coming as easy to her lips as breathing.

Max peers at her then, liking the way the blush colors her cheeks but wishing that it was him making her blush and not the shame of needing help. “Don’t be.” His statement is firm, but not unkind. “I told you to use it if you needed anything and by the way that piece sounded, you needed that music.”

It made Emma’s skin itch a bit at how Max read her so easily. She didn’t want to admit how much she liked feeling seen under his gaze. It felt dangerous, like there was a risk in remaining this close to him. Like if she allowed herself to get used to his kindness and generosity, she’d pay for it with her heart sooner rather than later.

“I didn’t know you played.” Max says when Emma stays silent, her gaze flicking between the music in front of her and Max beside her.

“Up until I was sixteen and then my parents decided my time was better spent elsewhere.” There was a touch of bitterness in her voice that made Max’s skin prickle. Every time he learned something about her parents, he liked them less and less.

“Well, I’d never be able to tell you’d taken any time off. It sounded incredible.”

Emma blushes harder and Max grins. “The piano is a touch out of tune, I’m afraid. It could have been better.”

Max shakes his head, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t said anything to me.” He turns back to the music, flipping to the front of the piece. “Pavane pour une infante defunte” He reads out loud in perfect French before turning back to Emma with a raised brow, “Pavane for a dead princess?”

Emma smiles sadly at the knowing glint in his eyes. There was that feeling again, that itchiness over the fact Max was so easily able to read her. Like he knew her so well already and they’d barely spent any time together. “It was the last concert piece I ever learned before…” The rest of the sentence dies on her lips.

Max’s gaze softened. He could hear the hurt in her voice, remembering the abrupt end to something she clearly loved. The desire to call her parents up and give them a piece of his mind for ripping away something that meant so much to Emma had his fingers itching to reach for his phone. “Before they decided your time was better spent elsewhere?” He asked gently, not wanting to push but needing to understand the shadows that seemed to cling to her today.

Emma hesitated, her fingers tracing the edges of the sheet music as she leaned just a fraction of an inch closer into Max’s warmth beside her. The silence stretched between them, thick and stifling as Max waited patiently for her response. Finally, Emma lifted her gaze to meet his, a flicker of vulnerability in her dove-grey eyes. “Before they decided music was a frivolous waste of time because I wasn’t good enough to make it a career. They said I needed to focus on more…practical pursuits.”

The word ‘practical’ fell off her tongue, bitter as ash and dripping with venom.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max’s jaw flutter almost imperceptibly. His parents, while demanding in their own way, had always supported his passions, his desire to race cars for a living, even when it had seemed like a long shot. The idea of someone stifling such a clear talent, such a deep connection with something so beautiful, grated on him roughly.

“Well,” He began, low and sincere, “I’m glad you decided to waste a little more time on it tonight. Even though it wasn’t a waste. It was beautiful, Emma. Really.”

Emma’s blush deepens but this time there was a hint of something else in her expression. There was a bit of a flicker of surprised pleasure there in her eyes as she watched Max watch her. Dropping her gaze down to her hands, she flexed her fingers slightly as if her fingers were sore from playing for so long this afternoon.

“Thank you.” She whispered so softly Max was almost sure he’d imagined it.

Max shifted a bit, his shoulder brushing hers once again, the casual contact sending a cool shiver of pleasure down his spine. He ignored the little voice in his head that warned him to keep his distance. He shouldn’t be this interested in his little sister’s best friend. Shouldn’t care what her plans were for the future. Shouldn’t want them to include him.

“So,” He said, turning his attention back to the sheet music, a forced lightness in his tone as he spoke. “A dead princess, huh? Bit morbid for a Friday night, don’t you think?” He shot her a teasing grin, hoping to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had settled between them.

A small, genuine smile spread across Emma’s lips, Max’s lighthearted question chasing away some of the sadness that had clouded her features. “It’s not really about a dead princess.” She explained, tone patient. “Ravel said the title just sounded nice. It’s more about a memory, a feeling of something lost and mourning that.”

Max nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the slope of her nose, the high cheekbones that he dangerously loved watching go pink at the sound of his voice, the way her lips formed a perfect heart shape as she concentrated. All of these observations were dangerous but not wholly unwelcome.

He was familiar with that sense of loss, of mourning what could have been. What should have been. What could have been.

“Well,” Max began, his eyes meeting hers again as a new understanding passed between them in the quiet of the evening. “I’m glad you’ve found your way back to it again, Em.”

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@alessioayla @addy-lol @changetyre @obxstiles @tvdtw4ever @joaofelixml @vickykazuya @47chickens @magnusstan @joannaln4 @nicooolsstuff @wakasays @slutforcoffein @ajordan2020 @widow-cevans @isagrace22 @simp4f1 @chertik-007vvv @mayax2o07 @scenesofobx @a-beaverhausen @glitteryturtledeer @halleest @sltwins @doesgekouwe @unknownmystery22 @honethatty12 @chaoswithus @sarahsobsession @liz140569 @sinfully-yoursss @ilove-tswizzle @lilbitchfromfaraway @irisesinthegarden @i-survived-a-shark-attack @smithieandy @fastandcurious16 @angelluv16 @sinfully-yoursss

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thewitchandtheassassin · 2 days ago

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Life, Death, and the Space in Between Final Part (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Choices are made--and lives are changed forever.

Words: 2113

Warnings: Mentions of death, dying, language, magic, etc.

A/N: We made it to the end y'all... good luck, have tissues. Also--I need to redo my taglist so if you wanna be on it, lemme know.

Agatha paced back and forth in front of the campfire for what felt like hours, her feet worn raw and her nails bit into the quick as she chewed on them absently. Rio was sitting in the grass along the Road’s edge, a mighty tempest of wind and leaves shielding you from view.

From her.

She’d done a lot of terrible things in her lifetime—maimed, killed, psychologically tortured, technically killed Sparky—but of all the choices she’d ever made, this was the only one she felt ashamed of. Guilty as she imagined you lying in Rio’s lap, the color fading from your cheeks, the warmth of your skin cooling into something she never thought would be possible for someone so full of…

Life.

“There has to be something,” she hissed to herself, panic blossoming in her chest as she heard Rio whispering to you, her voice lost in the storm surrounding you both.

-X-

Delicate fingers threaded through your dirty hair, Rio’s face never more than a few inches away from your own.

“Please, baby. Please… you can’t do this to me… I don’t know how to exist without you. Please…” she pressed her forehead to yours, breathing you in as her voice cracked desperately. “I don’t know how to be Death without Life…”

You groaned in pain and Rio could only watch in heartbroken horror as the veins under your skin darkened, trailing from your temple down into your cheek, stopping just at the corner of your mouth.

“No, no, no…” she exhaled, eyes welling up with tears. “You can’t do this to me, (Y/N)! Stop! I can’t lose you too!”

-X-

Agatha’s heart split wide in her chest at the fear in Rio’s voice, her hands trembling as it settled in—truly—what she’d done. For centuries she’d blamed you both for the loss of Nicky. Hated seeing your faces, even when she couldn’t bring herself to truly forget them, because they just reminded her of him. Of your little boy that only had a few years of life with her…

But most of all, she hated herself for being able to save him. No matter how much magic she stole—what she learned and unlearned and relearned—nothing could undo what had been done. She couldn’t bring him back and she couldn’t bring herself to let go of her hatred…

And it cost her everything, in the end. Her lovers, her happiness…

“Having a child with us, it isn’t… sustainable, darling,” you had warned her, devastation on your features. “We aren’t meant to bring flesh and blood into existence. Even if we succeeded, the child wouldn’t survive the magic. Not for long… to be a cosmic being means mortal bodies cannot contain it. And the child would be, at least, half cosmic being. We’re not human, even if we wear its face and use its name. We are beings beyond existence and it would tear the child apart.”

And she had pleaded with you both to just—

Try.

Only to hate you when the truth of what you spoke came into being. Her little boy incapable of remaining in a mortal vessel, growing weaker with each passing day…

Never once had you lied to her. Never once did you pretend some divine intervention would save him. You had fought—every single day—to keep him breathing until the body was too damaged to continue on…

And she’d spit.

In.

Your.

Face.

Stumbling over to the maelstrom of Rio’s despair, Agatha kneeled in front of the swirling wind. “Was she right? About… Nicky? Is he… like you two?”

The storm froze, like a spinning door caught by a hand, and for a moment, she didn’t think Rio would answer her before—

“Yes. But he cannot leave the cosmic realms like she and I can. We tried… God, Agatha, we both tried so fucking hard to give him a way to see you again. Did you think we just forgot? That we didn’t care? (Y/N) spent every moment of ten years trying to find a way to let him travel back to this realm—and it nearly destroyed them both.”

A broken sob escaped Agatha’s throat before she could choke it back, tears trickling down her mud-smudged cheeks as the storm parted and you both came in view. Rio, with tears of her own and fear on her lips, and you…

Oh God, you…

“I’m so sorry,” Agatha whispered, crawling closer to your limp body. “You fucking idiot. You should’ve left me there. I deserved it.”

She pressed her forehead against yours, surprised when Rio didn’t protest. She simply held you tighter, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stared at the scene.

“Couldn’t… leave… you…” a shaky, raspy croak slipped from your lips.

Agatha choked out another violent, shattered sob as she cradled your face. Your skin was clammy beneath her touch—

“You should’ve. I would’ve deserved it! You… baby, we can’t… I can’t lose you. I just found you again…”

Your soft, stunned laugh devolved into a coughing fit as you curled tighter against Rio’s chest. “You haven’t called me ‘baby’ in a long time, Aggie.”

“I should’ve. I never should’ve stopped. Not with either of you.” Agatha’s eyes met Rio’s and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Rio’s shoulder as she cried. “I am so, so sorry.”

Rio stared down at your sickly, sunken face. “You’re dying, (Y/N), and I don’t know how to fix this. You were always the one who planned while I just burned everything to the ground and danced in the fire. I don’t… I don’t know how to be you! How to exist without you beside me! You’re my balance.”

She whimpered. “How do I live without the other half of my soul?”

As your breathing grew shallow, you nuzzled closer to Rio. “You’ll be okay… you’ve always been the stronger one, darling. Maybe now you both can find your peace together,” you whispered against her throat, feeling it tremble.

“No, no, no. Don’t do that. Don’t close your eyes. You have to give me more time to figure something out. Please…” Rio begged, clutching you like she was trying to keep your soul trapped in your body a little longer. “You can’t go yet.”

You pressed your hand weakly against her chest, where a heart would beat, and smiled faintly. “I will always be a part of you, baby. Death never truly exists without Life.”

Tears poured down her cheeks as she slid her hand atop yours, keeping it against her skin. “(Y/N), stay. I need you…”

Your breathing came in shorter gasps, body trembling as the veins darkened, spreading down your throat and hands, beyond the clothing on your torso…

“…you’re a part of me,” Rio mumbled, brows furrowing together as her grip tightened around your hand. “Oh, (Y/N), you fucking idiotic genius.”

You didn’t respond, body too weak and corrupted as you slumped against her, ever-slowly losing the battle to the realm of Death.

She lifted you up and carried you into the Road, laying you down in a patch of moonlight as she hurriedly yanked her dagger from its sheathe and ran it along her hand, watching the nearly onyx blood well up. Cutting a slit in your shirt, she pressed the blade over your heart and carved a small line down the center until, what was once almost white blood now turned black, bubbled to the surface.

“I am a part of you… you are a part of me… let your burdens be mine. Let me carry the weight of your calling with the strength of my being,” she murmured, covering the cut with her bleeding hand as she stared down at you. “C’mon, baby…”

Your body jerked once beneath her hand—a flicker, a twitch—but then…

Nothing.

Just silence.

“No,” Rio gasped, voice cracked and raw. “No, no, no—dammit, don’t do this to me!”

Agatha watched in silent grief as you remained still, the veins pulsing under your skin as it began to drag you under before…

“You can’t do this alone,” Agatha muttered in realization, dropping to her knees beside you and snagging Rio’s dagger, slicing her own hands open without hesitation. “Life and Death are a cycle but there was to be something to bridge them, right? That’s what us lowly mortals are—that bridge.”

She cut another line across your chest before reaching for Rio’s free hand and cutting her palm, a surprisingly clean line despite the trembling of her hand.

“I fucked this up. I ruined this… let me fix it now. Please.” Agatha looked at Rio softly, in a way she hadn’t in centuries. “Please, my love.”

Rio’s jaw clenched before she took Agatha’s hand in her own, watching Agatha suck in a deep, pained breath as Rio’s magic poured through her. It was hot and wrong, burning her alive from the inside out but she didn’t fight it as her other hand fell over your chest, her blood seeping into your wound.

Agatha gritted her teeth as the pain flared, her mortality flaring against a magic her body was never supposed to know—but she held, her blood mingling with Rio’s, mixing with yours, seeping into the line carved down your chest like ink bleeding into old parchment.

Rio leaned over you, her voice unsteady but firm. “Three parts. Life. Death. Mortal. A balance. A trinity.” Her thumb stroked your cheek, reverent, aching. “We don’t exist without each other—and we were never whole until we found Agatha. You said it yourself. We needed her… but now we need you.”

Agatha’s voice was raw as she echoed, “I bind myself to you. I hold the weight of what I’ve broken. I stay, because I love you. I stay because I’m sorry. Because I never stopped loving you, I just didn’t know how to grieve with you. How to not blame you…”

Their joined hands pressed down over your heart as they whispered in tandem—an incantation not spoken in words, but in feeling, in memory, in regret and love and desperate, clawing hope.

“Please, baby… we need you,” Rio begged softly.

Agatha laughed wetly. “You said I haven’t called you that in a long time. Open your eyes and I’ll never stop saying it. I promise… please, (Y/N).”

There was a heavy silence that settled over the Road as the coven watched in mournful silence as Life herself lay lifeless in the moonlight. Until—

The sky cracked open above them, not with sunlight, but with color—shimmering threads of violet, green, and white weaving together in the air like a loom being drawn taut. It was magnificent and utterly unnerving as it buried itself in your chest before the strand of green connected with Rio—and the purple wound itself around Agatha. Then, they swirled together, a perfect cord of color stringing you together.

The ground beneath you pulsed once—twice—before your body arched sharply, a breath catching in your throat, dragging air like you’d never tasted it before.

And then—

Your eyes opened.

“…holy fuck,” you muttered.

Rio’s laugh burst out, wild and disbelieving, soaked in tears and raw relief. “Oh my God—holy fuck is right.” Her hand cupped your cheek, thumb trembling as it stroked across your skin like she couldn’t believe it was warm again. Like she had to be sure she wasn’t lost in a grief-induced hallucination.

Agatha choked on a sob, half-laughing through it, her fingers hovering over your chest as she whispered, “You stubborn, stupid, beautiful creature…” Her voice cracked, falling into a hoarse whisper. “You came back.”

“…I can feel you. Both of you,” you murmured, blinking up at the barrage of color in the sky. “I… do I have two heartbeats now?”

There, steadily in your chest, was the heartbeat you’d carried with you for eons—and a new, softer heartbeat you’d recognize anywhere.

Agatha’s.

You could hear the coven whispering amongst themselves excitedly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you sat upright, catching Agatha’s face between your hands and kissing her deeply, letting the moment linger as you tried to relearn the taste you’d lost so long ago.

“I’ve missed you, Aggie. I told you that you were always the piece of us we needed, even when it all fell apart…”

Agatha’s face broke with relieved devastation as she pressed her forehead against yours. Maybe things weren’t fixed—maybe it’d take lifetimes to unravel the hurt and anger and pain—but in that moment, none of it fucking mattered.

Because you came back…

And now Life and Death had the bridged the space in between.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #rio vidal imagine #agathario x reader #rio vidal x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal

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getaapologist · 3 days ago

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This is a continuation of the betrothed!reader blurb series as decided by [this] poll, thank you! (also it's more like empress!reader now...)

[ prior betrothed!reader entry can be found here ]

“And the brothels, they have been… rowdy, as of late,” A senator spoke, his hands clasped together. “The men grow restless. We should consider advancing the start of the next campaign.”

Another senator rose. “You would go against the general’s request for leave?”

You could see it from a mile away. Geta was dreadfully bored.

He tried to hide it, tried to appear as though he enjoyed this part of his title, but you knew far better.

His eyes slid over slowly to you, a smile growing as they raked over your hair, the laurels he placed there despite your protests shining.

They suited you, he thought.

Your smile as you registered his gaze passing over you. The way your fingers moved to play at his, dangling off the arm of the throne. He loved all of it.

Right as he leaned over to speak with you, to offer some small promise of what he’d ask of you after these meetings were over, he was interrupted.

“Emperor?”

The questioning voice cut through his small moment of happiness. His eyes darkened as he looked back at the toga-clad man, who seemed to very much regret his interruption.

“You have something you wish to say that is so important? As if you all haven’t been bickering the entire afternoon?”

Geta’s hand left your knee.

“Are you sure her presence in these chambers is… necessary?”

He was trying so very hard not to be rude, but failed entirely.

Your hands clung to Geta’s wrists, recognizing the tension growing in him, but he slipped out of your grip easily, stalking forward out of his throne.

“You misunderstand, Senator. That,” he pointed to you, “is our Empress, and you owe her your respect, for we are all at her whims.”

“It is just abnormal, Caesar,” the senator attempted to explain.

Geta became quite terrifying. “Abnormal? Are you men so weak that you cannot handle the sight of her in your midst?”

“She has bewitched you, Emperor,” someone else called out.

Geta’s fury focused in on a single target. He stalked forward, holding a hand out for a sword, the sound of it being drawn by the loyal Praetorian sending chills down everyone’s spines.

It was leveled at this Senator.

Geta was aware of the sharpness, of the bite of the blade, even as he held it against the man’s neck. If his heart beat any harder, the movement would split the vessel across the blade with how tightly it was pressed to his skin.

“I will give you only one opportunity to retract your blatantly false and ridiculous statement.”

“Kill him,” Caracalla grinned.

Geta rolled his eyes, turning back to speak with his brother. “I’m not going to kill him,” he spoke, slightly exasperated.

Caracalla frowned.

As Geta returned his attention to the Senator before him, the man raised his hands, held together.

“Forgive me, Emperor. It was a moment of madness. I did not mean to insult her.”

“Her?”

“O-Our Empress, Caesar.”

“That’s right. My Empress. And there will not be another word about it. Ever.”

He tossed the sword aside, letting it clatter to the ground, sliding right over to stop at the feet of the Senator that brought up the topic in the first place, as if daring him to pick it up.

He did not.

As the Praetorian collected the sword, unbothered, possibly quite used to the twins’ antics, Geta slid back into his seat.

“Do you feel better now, dear husband?” you whispered, eyes alight with mischief.

His lips slid back into that easy smile, his eyes darting down to look at you. “Quite.”

#emperor geta #emperor geta x betrothed!reader #emperor geta x empress!reader #emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii x reader #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator 2 x reader #it’s loving geta hours #blurb #joe quinn x reader

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slutforwoo · 1 day ago

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☆9. finally another live☆

previous|masterlist|next

☆ warnings: not proof read please ignore mistakes. smut below the cut, rough sex, face fucking, back shots, unprotected sex (please use protection), cream pie, jerking off, hwa slaps reader one time, edging, cum swallowing, pet names (princess, baby, etc), degrading. let me know if I missed anything!

☆¡written part below! ☆

yunho doesn’t remember the last time he grabbed his laptop as fast as he did. even though hongjoong wasn’t home, he still made sure to lock his door before settling into bed.

he opened up the website. clicking on ur account just in time to see the live bubble pop up, immediately clicking it. the screen filling up with your body as you shifted on the bed waiting for a bit more people to join.

after about 5 minutes you finally decide to start the live, “hello my loves welcome to todays stream”you say softly as seonghwa comes up behind you. wrapping his arm around your throat lightly. “you know the rules, if you have a request make sure to send a tip to see it”you say in a singsong tone.

yunho felt the way his dick twitched at the sight of you. god he knew deep down that this was definitely so so wrong and he shouldn’t be watching this at all. but as he’s lecturing himself in his head, he hears the whimper come from the laptop.

hwa had slapped your cheek roughly for not listening. with the new angles the audience was finally able to see your mouth as you sucked him off. hollowing your cheeks and sucking like ur life depended on it. yunho finally decided to stop teasing himself and pulled his sweats down. finally taking himself into his hand spreading the precum all over, before pumping himself at a slow pace. he was determined to last as long as possible. but fuck the thought of having you’re lips wrapped around his dick was going to make it extremely hard.

after a bit hwa decided enough of your teasing, gripping your hair in his hands to keep you in place as he fucks your face hard. the sound of you gagging filling the speakers, eventually seeing the tear drops that ran down your cheek.

“you can take it can’t you pretty girl” seonghwa cooed in a lower tone, as you peered up at him with begging eyes. although there was no romantic attraction, seonghwa wouldnt deny the fact you looked so hot in that moment. his hips began to thrust at a messy pace as he panted.

“im gonna cum, and you’re going to take every last drop” he grunted out between thrust until his hips sputtered and his cum filled your throat, forcing you to swallow it all as he pulled out.

“that’s my good girl”

yunho was going insane. the way you simply took it so well was just amazing. he wished so badly it was him fucking your throat. not whatever random you had in stream. he wasn’t sure just how much longer he would last.

“m-more”you choked out as you crawled further onto the bed. laying on your stomach and arching your back. inviting seonghwa to do whatever he pleased.

he grabbed the camera and panned it over your bare back, moving your hair to show the fairy wing tattoo and the back dermals, closing in on your pretty lace thong.

“fuck you look so good. I love breaking you everytime doll.” he said in a cocky tone as he adjusted the camera to his point of view.

yunho’s eyes widened, as you’ve never done that view on a live stream before. he could genuinely imagine it was him fucking you.

“please sir. ruin me”you begged as he teased you over your underwear,the fabric wet from your slick.

yunho decided to send a donation, he wanted to hear you beg more than anything.

puppy1117 sent $100! make her beg til she’s sobbing for you to fuck her.

“ah ah not yet princess, beg for it” seonghwa teased as he continued to rub you up and down with his fingers.

“please sir, I need you so so badly. need you to ruin me til I can’t think”you begged backing onto his fingers, desperate to get more friction.

“not enough more” he’s pressed harder, going just a bit faster to try and push you over the edge.

“please sir i’ve been good. please fuck me stupid and fill me with your cum. I need it so bad please please”you pleaded tears brimming your eyes. you just wanted to feel good and have release.

god was the sound of you begging just music to yunho’s ears. the way you would get so whiny, voice cracking from the desperation. he had to hold himself back, teasing and edging himself. he needed to hear you fucked out and moaning like a mess.

“just a bit more princess” seonghwa cooed, grabbing your hair into a ponytail and yanking you back. “you can do better than that”

a whimpering escaped your lips as you feel the tears overflow, “fuck please sir I just wanna be a good slut wanna feel so so good. fuck me stupid please I beg of you”you sobbed out, genuinely frustrated and needy for release.

without a warning, seonghwa slipped your panties the side and thrusted into you. a loud and breathy moan escaping your lips at the sudden intrusion.

“oh fuck yes”you panted eyes rolling back, as he began to thrust into you at rough pace. yanking your head back with every thrust

“oh princess you feel so good”he whined out and he adjusted your position to take him even deeper. hitting that sensitive spongey part that had you seeing stars.

whines escaped one after the other, and yunho was having a hard time keeping it in any longer. he made the decision to stop, taking his hand and resting it on his thigh. the head of his cock red and aching for release.

but he decided to sit and watch just for a moment. taking in the way your body looked wet and sticky from the sweat and slick mixing together.

“s-sir p-please I-i’m close” you whined as seonghwa started to thrust harder and harder.

and in that moment the donations came flooding in. each comment in the same page if letting you finish since you had taken instructions so well.

“im close too baby. you ready for me to fill you up?” hwa grunted as his thrust get messy once more

“yes please fill me up sir”you begged, not able ti think straight what so ever. all you cared about was him finishing in you. and you getting release.

that is when yunho started up again. pumping himself to the fast and rough pace as seonghwa.

“come baby”

and you let go, pleasure taking over every single one of your senses. you’re vision going blurry as your body shook in pleasure. every strangled moan and whimper making its way out.

yunho couldn’t handle it anymore, pumping himself one last time as he cummed all over his stomach and hand. god what the fuck were you doing to him?

especially because he never would’ve expected doing what he did next.

p☆rnst☆r tag list

@roxhanah @sunnysidesins@spenceatiny18 @kookieswithjung @kcharlyy @bloomyroses @jiminssluttyminx @fairy-jojo @oceanside-view97 @domfikeluva @mountquokka @frecklypotato @bambbiisworld

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kainolonger · 11 hours ago

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For @glitteryinfluencersoul

Shy!lovedrunk!felix x F!Reader

Felix loves your hair so much that he can’t keep his hands out of it.

Felix is my bestie’s bias so I wanted to write something for her (feed her delusion).

——————————————————

The sun shined through the gaps in the curtains. You shift slightly to turn away from it, but you’re stopped by Felix tightening his grip on your waist. A groan was heard as he softly inhaled the scent of your soft, curly hair. “Where are you going, baby?” You chuckle slightly as you wrap your arms back around him. “No where, angel,” you whisper while slowly stroking his back. He looks up at you with the most tired, yet love-filled eyes. He reaches up to comb his fingers through your hair while giving you butterfly kisses all over your face. Felix sighed as he unwraps himself from you to sit up. “You hungry?” You nod and sit up next to him. “I’ll make some breakfast,” you get up with Felix close behind.

You stood in front of the stove with Felix latched onto your waist, slowly stroking it, his face in your hair. He sat his head on your shoulder and watched you cook. He felt so full of love, so he couldn’t help but giggle and kiss you everywhere he could reach. You smile and lean your head against his. He blushed and nuzzled into your neck. "Baby, the food's ready, let's go eat." You set the table and sit in front of Felix. Felix finishes first, so he gets up to stand behind you. His hands run through your hair as you continue eating. You lean into his touch, but he starts slowly braiding and unbraiding your hair.

You finish eating and quickly put the dishes away. You two moved to the couch and watched a random drama. His hands found their way back to your hair. "You really like my hair, don't you?" He simply chuckles and continues running his hands through your curls. You couldn't complain since you loved him. You loved it when he ran his fingers through your long curls. You simply lay your head on his chest, and the combination of his heartbeat and his hands in your hair, you slowly fall asleep. Felix smiled and gave you a small kiss on your head and fell asleep right after you, your bodies tangled in a mess of limbs.

_________________________________________

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x reader #lee felix #skz felix #felix #stray kids felix #fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #lee felix fluff

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novashelby · 2 days ago

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The Clinical Boyfriend-Jonathan Crane x Reader

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: Relationship issues? Mention of sex. Word Count: 768 Summary: Dr. Crane's girlfriend is tired of him neglecting her. And while he isn't the most romantic, he does very much want to let her know how much he admires her.

Thank you @wonderlanddreamer for playing my Cillian Murphy drabble game. I feel horrible, but admittedly, this isn't the best I have written. I fought with it for awhile, but hopefully you like it. <3

He was never affectionate. Always so incredibly dry. Clinical! And oh so attentive…to work. But hardly to her. Even when his body was pressed against hers and they were entangled in the sheets, he was so distant. Often it felt like loving an empty vessel, allowing her to question if any of it was worth it. But she stayed another day because somewhere among all the grey and rain, there was some light. At least she hoped as she laid within his grey silk sheets, hands folded over her chest. His cum rested between her thighs, feeling sticky.

He had already moved on, reaching over for the lamp on the nightstand. Everything was easier for her in the dark, and when his finger flipped the switch, her feelings combusted in a stream of words. A jumbled, gibberish mess that she wasn’t even sure she understood, but once a word slipped through, they all came. Jonathan knitted his eyes, turning the light back on. She rested up on her elbow, looking at him. “And I’m sorry, Jonathan, I just..you know how hard it is to love someone that hardly even smiles at you? And the dinners I cook, the clothes I wear, every single thing I do for you goes completely unacknowledge-do you even understand-”

Jonathan stopped her right there, a deep sigh indicating that he was nothing, but annoyed. How dare she speak up, right? He flipped on the lamp and felt for his specks along the nightstand before placing them lazily on the bridge of his nose. “You seem to be going through emotional distress…”

She stopped, clicking her tongue, mouth turning a gaped. “W-what?” she asked in disbelief, an incredulous laugh allowing her to choke on her words. Jonathan watched as she blinked away the audacity and shook her head. “Are you….”

Jonathan raised two fingers. “Are you under stress from work? That can often make one irrational and irate.” She could have killed him. She wanted to kill him. Take those glasses of his and punch them back into his eyes. Jonathan looked over her; fingers twitching, jaw tense. “And you’re clenching.”

“Because I’m pissed off.” She kicked the blanket off her legs and turned more directly at him. “Did you not hear me? I said that I am upset about how our relationship is going, Jonathan.”

“I’m aware,” he nodded, opening his hand towards her, motioning for her to continue. “Why do you think you may be feeling this way?”

She was about to respond when she paused. “Jonathan, do you not get it? I’m your partner. I’m trying to express to you how I feel and you’re playing fucking doctor!”

He swallowed and took off his glasses, wiping at his tired eyes before putting them back on. “Love, I’m hardly playing doctor.” That little, condescending laughing irritated her more. Especially when he added, “I am a doctor.”

“But I’m not your patient, I’m your girlfriend! But yet I feel as though I’m nothing to you.”

He was quiet for a moment before he pressed his lips together, and out reached his hand, propping her chin on two fingers. “You must understand that expressing feelings is not easy for me. I think and act clinically. I’m obsessed with what I do because I’m passionate about what I believe in.”

“And that is an excuse to neglect me?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not. But my affections for you-my complete respect, admiration, and adoration is completely unmatched because no one in this world compares-”

“Words don’t-”

“I show love in the way I know how,” he said. “I don’t ask that you accept it or like it, but forgive me that I prefer a love language that focuses on the respect of one’s intellect and thoughts before frivolous gifts, compliments, and monotonous PDA.” He leaned in, smiling just slightly. “I don’t ask anyone, but you to critique my work. I don’t tell anyone else, but you about my research, blueprints, and theories. Never do I ever let anyone, but you read my work first. Why? Because I value you.”

She matched his smile. “It’d still be nice if you’d notice other things-”

“I do, but I respect that you have the confidence and self worth to already know that you look great in anything you wear.” It wasn’t perfect, but it was him. “Come here.” He pulled her in and flicked off the lamp before allowing his lips to tease at her neck. “You and I are above the mundane. Including dull, fake, for show relationships that do nothing, but feed an ego.”

#Cillian Murphy #Drabble #jonathan crane x reader #Jonathan Crane #fanfiction #fanfic #Jonathan Crane fanfiction #fluff

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vanfleeter · 2 days ago

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My Sailor

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader Word count: 2k Warnings: Smut. Sex. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (f receiving). Fluff. So much tooth rotting fluff. Pregnancy. Angst. (as always, let me know if I missed anything so I can add it.) A/N: Difficulty sleeping results in 4am story writing. I hope you enjoy!

It was only supposed to be that one night. He made that clear. I agreed, because I didn't know him at all, just his name and the feel of his body against mine. He was a sailor, making a stop for a short time before continuing on his way.

I don't know why he chose me. I wasn’t one of those women at the port waiting for sailors to sleep with. We bumped into each other on the street. He caught me before I hit the ground, guiding me back up with his arm wrapped around my back. I could feel his body heat radiating through the half buttoned shirt. He smiled down at me, chuckling as he apologized for not paying attention to where he was going.

The sun was beginning to set, casting the warmest glow across his face. “I’m Jacob,” He told me, holding out his hand for me to shake.

“Y/N.” I told him, shaking his hand.

“Y/N…” He pondered on my name as if he were tasting a new bottle of wine. “Pretty.” He’d say with a smile.

He had asked if I was busy tonight. I could have lied and said ‘yes’, but something in his eyes made me tell him ‘no’. Something drew me to him, something I couldn't resist. I knew of the tales of sirens. Was he mine? At that moment though, I didn't care. He was leaving soon anyway. That’s what sailors do. I made the bold choice to invite him back to my place.

We had barely made it through the door before his lips were pressed against my neck, kissing and sucking. His lips were so soft and they felt so good. He was skilled at removing the few layers of clothing I had on. He knew his way around which indicated to me that he’s done something like more than once. I didn't care, he wasn't staying.

I laid there in bed, letting him roam my body with his lips and his hands touch me wherever he wanted. His hands weren't soft like his lips. They were tough and calloused. As expected. Though they were soft, they were gentle. He used them in a way that made me feel safe, comfortable. He never used them roughly, even though I told him he could. I saw the glimmer of mischief in his eyes but he rejected. Instead he continued treating me like I was the greatest prize he had ever won. A delicate one at that.

His name slipped from my tongue so easily as he brought me to the edge..twice. His lips were soft but his tongue was skillful. He never used his fingers, which was different from the other lovers I’ve been with. It didn't matter to me though, because he made up for it with other means.

He was still gentle as he entered me fully. He wasn’t large but he was definitely bigger than the others. I hated to compare him to them, but I couldn't help it. He was better and he definitely set the bar too high.

Once we both got adjusted and more acquainted with each other, he started thrusting his hips. Gentle at first until I told him that if he felt the need to, he could use a little more force. At first he hesitated but then he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Okay”. His hands went from gentle to slightly rough, holding me firmly in place as he pounded himself inside of me. He thoroughly enjoyed it, having found the perfect pace. I met my bliss before he did, swiftly pulling out and spilling all over my stomach.

He wasn't done. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted more.

The night was still young. So why not?

I asked him what he wanted to do next. His gaze traveled to the vanity. “As much as I enjoy fucking a woman from behind, I enjoy watching your face as I make you unravel.” He says it close to my face, sending shivers down my body. At that moment, I was glad I lived alone.

He positioned me the way he wanted me in front of the mirror, holding my hips in place. He got both things he enjoyed at the price of one. His hands wrapped around my hips once more as he pushed himself inside of me. I was already used to him so he didn't waste a second getting straight to it. Our eyes locked in the mirror for the duration until I could no longer keep my eyes focused. My vision blurred as my body gave in again to the intense wave of pleasure. I could feel his warmth spill on my back as he finished himself.

He wiped both of us clean with a cloth he found in the bathroom before settling into bed beside me. I had to keep reminding myself that he would be leaving in the morning. He very well could be gone before I even wake.

I wouldn't call it love, but there was definitely something there. I had a feeling he knew it too, because he kept his eyes focused on me as he massaged small circles with his thumb into the curve of my hip. It was as if he were trying to memorize my face.

By morning, I woke up feeling his body pressed up against my back. He hadn't left yet. He must have known that I was awake as his fingers curled into the skin of my hips and he pressed his lower half against my ass. I could feel him, hard and needy.

“Just once more..” He whispered in my ear.

I turned over to lay on my back. I agreed and I could see his eyes light up as a smile tugged at his lips. He didn't fuck me this time. He wasn't rough. Instead he took his time, slow and deliberate. As if he wanted to make this last. His kisses felt full of passion, the complete opposite of the lust last night. Truthfully I was accepting of it. Something inside of me longed for him to stay, though I knew he wouldn't–couldn't.

He had to leave and I had to accept that. So when he finally did, I walked him to the door and we bid our farewells. “I’ll see you soon.” He chose to say instead of ‘goodbye’. I watched him walk away, adjusting the burlap sack of his things on his shoulder. I watched him until he was gone from my line of sight and then I retreated back inside the house.

Six months had come and gone. I had a few lovers after him, but none of us were as good as he was and I found myself searching for that feeling, chasing it, but never finding it. But I knew I had to move on, yet the invisible string kept me tied to him.

It wasn’t until one morning, I was taking a stroll along the shoreline when I saw a figure standing off in the distance. I couldn't quite make out who it could have been until I got closer. That’s when I saw his hair, flowing freely as the ocean breeze blew past. He was turned away, his back to me as he watched the tide come in and go back out.

“I don’t know if this is real or if I’m imagining things.”

I could see his cheeks rise as he smiled. He turned to face me and his smile grew. “Y/N..” My name flowed so easily from his lips, as if it were honey.

“You came back?”

“I couldn't stay away.” He says. “I had finished my job and gone back home.. But all I could ever do was think of you.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, casting his eyes down to the sand. “I thought it was a one time thing.. That’s all I wanted it to be.. But every woman I was with when I arrived back home,” He sighs. “None of them were you… I-I don’t know if you’ve been with other men, or currently are, but I understand if this feeling isn’t mutual..”

“I will be honest with you, Jacob,” I say as I take a step closer to him. “I have been with other men, just as you were with other women.. None of them were like you and I chased that feeling and I could never find it.”

“Which is why I came back and I don't intend on leaving.”

“Jacob, you have a home already.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve learned that my home is here. From the moment I met you all that time ago, my soul found its connection.. You.”

“But your family..”

“I can always write to them.” He says. “But if you’d allow me to, I’d want to make you my family.”

“You don’t know me..” I say. “What if, as you do get to know me, you decide that you do not love me?”

“Impossible.” He stepped up to me and reached his hand to hold the side of my face. “I may sound dramatic, but I will love you until my last dying breath.”

Again we never made it through the door before he was kissing me and tugging at the strings of my dress to untie them. We made love again, slow and deliberate, just as he had before he left prior.

He did in fact make his home here. He wrote to his family often, keeping them informed of his new life. We married a few months after he had come back. He was now my husband and I was his wife. Sure we had our shortcomings, we had arguments, but yet we still came back to each other as if none of it had happened.

A year after we had wed, I bore him a son. It was perfect timing because his family had arrived on a passenger ship for a visit. Turns out, they sold everything to join Jacob here. I knew he was missing his family, so I felt this was a blessing in disguise.

Our family grew from three to four within two years. Another son. Jacob was overjoyed having two boys to raise. They were his pride and joy. That is until our little girl came along just a year after our second son. He still cherished his sons, but there was something different between a father and his daughter. Their bond was unbreakable and she definitely had him wrapped around her finger.

Time went on but our love remained the same. The love making definitely remained the same. He made sure to make time where he’d send the kids off to his parents’ home for the night. He joked about getting me pregnant again. I knew it was a joke because we both agreed that three children was plenty. Still, he fucked me as if he were going to.

As years continued to pass by, and we grew older, our love still held firm. He went before me. I think he knew it was going to happen, so he spent that time constantly reminding me how much he loved me. He held me close in bed that one final time. “We won't be apart for long.” He whispered to me. I knew he was gone after that when I spoke his name and he didn't respond. He looked so peaceful. It was at that moment that I was transported back in time to when we first met.

My time came shortly after. I knew it had because suddenly I wasn’t old anymore and I felt youthful again. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself standing on a beach somewhere, feeling the warmth and the peace. His voice called out to me and I couldn't fight the smile that spread across my face. I turned around and there he stood, looking as he did at his young age. He laughed when I barrelled into him, hugging him tightly.

“I told you we wouldn't be apart for long,” He said before kissing me. “Now come on, there’s so much to show you. I think you’ll love it here.”

And with that, he connected our hands and we walked off into what would become our happily ever after.

_____

Want to added to the taglist? Just ask! I'd love to add you! @losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @katuschka @musicislove3389 @takenbythemadness @wildbluesorbit @hollyco @vintage-heaven @deadzlol

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #gvf

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retrowitchy · 1 day ago

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thinking about baby lenore dove and her uncles again goddamnit

if u have ever wanted 9 year old lenore dove and tam amber content then you are in the right place step right up folks

*✴︎+ lost souls on ao3

It was a quiet evening, one of those nice ones where the grass in the Meadow seemed to sway like it was caught up in a waltz, and all heaven and earth seemed in tune with it, even the lightning bugs and the leaves on the oak trees.

They were sat out in the grass, not too far from the house. Tam Amber absentmindedly picked along on his mandolin, one conscientious eye on his nine year old niece, who was hunting for wish-flowers. Her dark hair sprung out every which way, unruly and bouncing as she dove through the grass, reminding him of himself when he was her same age.

Clerk Carmine was off with his sweetheart in town, so Tam Amber was the sole parent for the night. Not that he minded- somehow, when CC left, it felt like there was a little more wiggle room for dreamers. Clerk Carmine kept them sensible, kept them safe. Without him, Tam Amber and Lenore Dove would "roam the impossibilities and daydreams of yesterday, tomorrow, and never" as he liked to say sometimes. He and her both had rovin' minds, wandering all over the place, and there wasn't any shame in it. Besides, he loved hearing the things his niece was thinking about.

Tam Amber started to sing as he plucked the strings, watching Lenore Dove blow dandelion seeds everywhere.

"Can't take my past

Can't take my history,

You can't take my pa, 'cuz his name's a mystery.

Nothin' you can take was ever worth keepin'-"

"Oh nothin' you can take was ever worth keepin!" Lenore Dove finished with him, springing onto the blanket and nearly startling him out of his nice reverie.

"Well, Lenore Dove, what brings you over to this here blanket on this fine evening?" he asked, poking her in the belly.

She giggled. "Play some more, I like that one."

"I know you do. That's a Lucy Gray song, it's in your bones," he said. "Your uncle used to go crazy on the fiddle when we'd play it."

"He's already crazy," Lenore Dove rolled her eyes, wiggling her bare toes out in front of her. Lord, she had sass on her. When she and CC would go at it, Tam Amber could barely keep up. They'd banter for days without even stopping to sleep if they could.

"You make any good wishes out there?" he asked her, continuing to pick out the tune of the song quietly.

"Lots. I wished for a thousand birds to be my friends," Lenore Dove said, flopping back on the blanket.

"Well hey, you know what they say. A well-willin' wish will surely will itself real."

"They don't say that. You just made that up!" Lenore Dove exclaimed. "That's a tongue twister!"

"So what if I did?" he said, smiling at her. "Doesn't make it any less real."

"Oh, quit. Keep playin'," she said.

Tam Amber obliged, feeling no need to continue singing but dutifully playing the song to the best of his recollection. Lenore Dove sat up, turned over, and propped herself up on her arms on her stomach to watch.

"Hey, what's that mean in the song? About havin' your pa's name be a mystery?" she asked.

He set the mandolin down in his lap momentarily. "I reckon it's sayin' they don't know who their pa was. His name's a mystery because they never met him."

"Like me," Lenore Dove said, moving over to lie on her back again and gaze up into the treetops of the oaks. "I never met my pa."

"Yeah, just like that. We never met him either, so it's true, his name's a mystery," Tam Amber conceded thoughtfully. "Sorta true about myself, too."

She looked over at him, eyes big and wide. "What? You didn't know your pa either?"

"Pa or ma," Tam Amber said, shaking his head. "Didn't I ever tell you this story?"

"No," she said softly, fingering the patches on his pants. "Can you tell me?"

"Well sure. Not much to tell, really. Back in the old days, the days you like, all the Covey had at least one relation to each other. Your ma, Lucy Gray, Barb Azure, they were all Bairds. Clerk Carmine, Billy Taupe, they were of Clade kin. When that old man took 'em in, they were all already sort of a family. But I came straight to 'em in a box off the side of the road. My ma left me, I s'pose, or my pa, whoever was in charge of me. I never knew 'em. Your mama used to call me a lost soul," he said, chuckling. Lenore Dove was hanging onto his every word with a rapt attention. "I guess that about sums me up."

"If you're a lost soul, I'm one too," she said determinedly. "We're kin like that."

"Well, you're a Baird, so don't let any of that clan hear you disrespecting them like that. They'll roll in their graves," he laughed, gently pulling one of her curls.

"Okay," said Lenore Dove, yanking one of his curls in return. "But if I never knew my pa, then I'm half Baird, half lost soul. How 'bout that?"

Tam Amber looked at her, her big, earnest green eyes, her dirty overalls, the hopeful twitch of her little nose. It had been hell when Maude Ivory left them. He didn't know if he could stand the loss of one more member of the family, and worse, neither could Clerk Carmine. But they had had no idea how much joy this little kid, full of sweetness and sass and dreams and big ideas, was gonna bring them. How she would carry with her life back into the Covey house, and laughter, and love. Just like her mama did. And maybe her pa was the same way, who knows.

"Sure," he said, eyes crinkling up in a smile. "I think that's a fine idea."

#GAHHHHHH I LOVE TAM AMBER SO MUCH I LOVE HIM AND CLERK CARMINE I CAN'T DO THIS #lenore dove #tam amber #clerk carmine #the covey #lucy gray baird #sunrise on the reaping #sotr #the hunger games #thg #birdy writes little things

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areyoufuckingcrazy · 2 days ago

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Hi, me again! Could I request a comfort fic with either Rex, Fox, or Echo? This last week has been so hard with my depression- where everyday tasks, like getting ready for work, feel overwhelming. I love your stories; they are the literary equivalent of a mug of tea and a cozy blanket.

Thank you so much —it truly means the world to me. I really appreciate and am touched that my stories could bring a little comfort for you during a tough time. I hope the following is what you wanted and brings a bit of comfort xo

⸻

“Safe With You”

Echo x Reader

The hum of the Marauder was a soft lull in the background, like a lullaby Echo had never known he needed. You sat curled in a blanket on the makeshift bench-seat of the ship’s common area, half-asleep but unwilling to move to your bunk just yet. It wasn’t just the nightmares. It was the quiet loneliness that always settled too deep in your bones after the lights dimmed.

Footsteps echoed—soft but mechanical—and you already knew it was him.

Echo always walked like he didn’t want to be noticed. Like maybe the durasteel in his limbs made him take up too much space. But to you, he never felt like too much. He felt like safety.

“Can’t sleep again?” his voice was a quiet murmur, meant for you alone.

You opened your eyes and gave him a small, sheepish smile. “Was just… thinking.”

He tilted his head as he sat across from you, his cybernetic hand resting on the edge of the bench. “Thinking, huh? Dangerous pastime.”

“Yeah, well, I’m known for my recklessness,” you said, trying to joke, but it came out thin.

Echo’s eyes softened as he looked at you, shadows under his own eyes betraying he hadn’t had much rest either. The war had ended, but peace still felt like a foreign language.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he said gently, glancing down. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

You blinked a few times. No one had said that to you in a long time. Not like that. Not like they meant it.

“I’m tired of being strong all the time,” you admitted, voice small. “It’s like… the second I stop, everything I’ve been holding up comes crashing down.”

Echo didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he stood—tall, quiet—and crossed to your side. He sat down beside you on your bed, shoulder to shoulder, warm despite the metal. Without asking, he pulled the blanket over the both of you.

You leaned into him, and he let you.

“You don’t have to hold everything up,” he said, pressing his forehead gently to yours. “I’ve got you.”

Your breath hitched, and when your hand found his— you felt the weight of the world ease off your chest, even just a little.

“I feel safe with you,” you whispered.

Echo smiled, barely there but real. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

The silence between you wasn’t heavy anymore. It was soft—like a warm blanket pulled over the both of you, tighter than the one wrapped around your shoulders.

Echo leaned into the wall behind him, tugging you along with him so that your head rested just over his heart. It beat steady under your cheek, a gentle rhythm that grounded you more than you expected.

“I used to hate the quiet,” he said, his voice low, like he was afraid to wake the stars outside the viewport. “When I was in the Citadel, then with the Techno Union… silence meant something bad was coming. I’d brace for pain, or for someone to take another piece of me away.”

Your arms tightened around his waist, your hand resting on the seam where flesh met metal.

“But now,” he continued, fingers lightly stroking your shoulder through the blanket, “it’s different. Now it’s just… peace. You make the silence feel safe.”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded against him, letting his words settle into you like rain on parched ground.

A moment passed. Then another. Your breathing slowed, syncing with his. The last remnants of your anxiety started to unwind, like frayed threads being gently tucked away.

Echo shifted just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers—so gentle it made your eyes sting.

“I know I don’t have much to offer,” he murmured. “Not like I used to. But whatever I have left… you can have it. All of it.”

Before you could answer—before you could even think to—he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Slow. Reverent. Like a promise.

You closed your eyes and let it linger, feeling the way his lips trembled just slightly, like he was holding back all the emotion he wasn’t sure he deserved to feel.

“You’re everything I need,” you whispered against his chest. “You always have been.”

He held you tighter, letting out a breath like he’d been waiting a lifetime to hear that.

And for the rest of the night, you stayed there in his arms, wrapped in warmth, in safety, in the kind of love that didn’t demand anything but presence. The galaxy could wait.

For now, you were exactly where you belonged.

#clone trooper x reader #clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars headcanons #clone x reader #clone force 99 #the bad batch x reader #echo tbb #clone trooper echo #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo #echo x reader #arc trooper echo #echo

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velmalav · 6 hours ago

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The Giver - Frank Langdon pt. V

masterlist

day one // night one // day two // night two

synopsis: being the selfless person you are, you agree to travel to a 3-day conference with your biggest competition - dr. langdon. part 5 of 6 :-)

warnings: cursing, oops there's only one bed, enemies to lovers, lowkey smut, prepare yourself for the final part coming soon!!!

day three

The alarm I set on my phone isn’t what wakes me up; it’s the loud shrill of a car alarm that does the trick. Intertwined in covers, the outside air feels like pinpricks. I squint in the morning light shining through the window. Must’ve forgotten to close the curtains before tucking in.

The body pressed against mine shifts, arm lazily patting around until he finds my back. Langdon’s eyes are closed, but I can tell he’s awake from the crease between his brows. I reach a warm hand from the covers and gently brush the hair from his forehead.

“Hmm,” he groans grumpily, batting my hand away. So much for yesterday morning’s daydream. Langdon’s eyes open slowly. He looks so pretty when he bats his eyelashes, and I can’t stop watching as he wipes away the sleep from them. Then he’s looking at me, and I feel the need to pretend I wasn’t staring. I sit up with a quickness; it pains me to inch from his warmth. “Morning.”

I tilt my head at him with a soft smile, “Morning.”

“Fucking car alarm,” Langdon gripes, running both hands through his hair and keeping his arms above his head. “What time is it?”

I open my phone. “Wait,” I say.

Anxiety crosses his face. He thinks we’re late again. And then my alarm goes off, and I see him visibly relax back into the pillows.

“Did you actually think I’d let us be late again?” I muse. I stand and grab a bag from the floor, rummaging until I find some clothes. I can feel him watching me the entire time; it’s hard not to run through the possibilities of what he could be thinking.

“Yes, no, I don’t know,” he replies and then laughs a little. “I had a nightmare I missed the entire last day. I thought it might’ve come true.”

“Thankfully not. We have plenty of time before we have to be there,” I assure, but I can’t help the coyness hidden behind my words. And from the way Langdon is looking at me now, I know he’s picked up on it.

He slides until he’s at the edge of the bed, right in front of me. I turn to face him with my clothes in my hands. Wordlessly, he confiscates them from me and tosses them beside him. “What?” I play dumb, place my hands on my hips.

Langdon holds out a hand, his eyes playful. I continue to act like I don’t know what he wants until he leans forward to pull me to him. I tilt into him without hesitation, bracing my fingers into the skin of his shoulders.

“You know what,” he breathes, palms sliding along my back, underneath my t-shirt. Goosebumps perk up on every inch of skin he touches.

I slope my neck down to him until our noses brush. There’s nothing to say just yet, and even if there was, I’m not sure I’d have the strength to get it out. Langdon’s breathing becomes uneven, eyes still cloudy from sleep. I wait until the tension is unbearable before I kiss him. And though he’s still sleepy, he reacts like it’s second nature, moving his mouth against mine feverishly.

I cup his cheek in my hand, tilting my head as our tongues meet. We don’t pull away until we’re out of breath, but even then, we remain as close to one another as we can. I run my fingers along his jaw, fixated on every detail of face, not sure there’s anyway to possibly get enough of this.

Langdon leans into reconnect us, but I bring a finger to his lips. I can’t stop the smile creeping onto my face as he opens eyes. “Time’s up.”

“What?” he asks. “I thought you said we have plenty of—”

“Oh, we do. But I need to get ready,” just like our first night, I pat his cheek a couple of times and get off of him. Leaving him sitting there, confused and definitely frustrated.

As I retrieve my clothes and saunter to the bathroom, I hear Langdon mutter.

“I see how it is.”

Unlike yesterday, Langdon joins all of the same sessions with me. But exactly like yesterday, I take absolutely no notes. Just for a different reason. I’m distracted, not by the lecturers or the power point slides, but by the firm hand on my back leading me from place to place, the brush of shoulders cramped into small chairs, the blue eyes glancing over at me in my peripheral vision.

The sad part is he doesn’t have to do anything to hold my attention. All of it, every daydream, begins with a simple gesture. Biting his lip in concentration, fingers fidgeting on his thigh, the angrily attractive strands of hair on his forehead simply being there. It’s hot and exhausting and quite frankly, fucking annoying.

The worst part is he’s aware. I thought I was being careful, calculated when I would decide to glance over. Or pretend to crack my neck to get a better view. And it was a goddamn rush thinking I was getting away with it until halfway through the fourth session, Langdon whispers, “Eyes forward, Y/L/N.”

An unassuming statement followed by the tiniest smirk. It only made it worse. The racing thoughts. The yearning to have his hands on me.

It feels like he’s biding his time. Waiting to see how long he can go being dismissive before I break. And despite all of this being complete ideas I’ve made up in my head, I see it as another competition. Regardless of whether he’s participating or not. By the end of the seventh session, I straighten up and refuse to look at him. All the while feeling and mix of in control and a little bit pathetic. I decided I just have to wait for a sign. A furrow of his eyebrows, a restless leg shake.

I bet you’re wondering, but how the hell will you know if you can’t look at him?

I don’t know. I’m just hoping the pieces will fall where they may. In my favor, obviously.

“Come on. Last workshop,” Langdon suddenly says. I snap out of my reverie, realizing people are filing out. I nod, still not looking at him, and start moving to the next room without waiting.

Managing to get all the way out into the hallway, I tell myself I’m in the clear. Until a familiar hand pushes gently on my back to guide me. I shoot as normal of a smile at him as I can and allow him to walk me the rest of the way.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

We get into our seats, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been so interested in a pamphlet in my entire life. I’m attempting an Oscar-worthy performance. Leaning forward to read the fine print, studying each photo of smiling doctors, even pointing at one I’ve never seen before and commenting that I recognize her. Anything to not look at the man beside me. Anything to win the game I’ve invented.

The competition is in my favor for at least halfway. I even accidentally graze shoulders with him a couple of times, muttering a ‘sorry’ as I readjust my sitting position. The second time I do it, I let my skirt ride up just a bit. The shuffle in his seat he does after might just be coincidence, but my delusional brain sees it as a sign.

And then it’s confirmed; this is not a one-sided game. Langdon uses his hands to push him back in his seat, but as he pulls one hand back it just barely touches my thigh – the exact spot my skirt slid up. To really, truly confirm my theory, I sacrifice one glance toward him.

He’s not even hiding the rogue smile on his lips.

Though the conference is officially over, I make it a mission to up my game. Because I have a feeling as soon as that motherfucker gets me up to the room, I’m going to crumble. So I improvise.

A couple of residents from Penn Medicine I interacted with the day before invite Langdon and I to dinner, and I take it as a sign of some kind of God for this opportunity to fall in front of me at just the right time. Langdon seems hesitant – I know he was planning an ambush – so I jump at their invite with the most enthusiasm I’ve shown all week.

“Where are we going?” I ask, yet again, ignoring the hand on my back as we walk the city streets. I swear I can feel him sulking beside me. The joy it brings me is pathetic.

“My favorite sushi place. It’s not far. Is that cool with you guys?” the shorter woman, Rae, says. She has a short black bob, and a plague doctor tattooed on her arm.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” I hum, glancing over at Langdon. He exhales a laugh, quietly agreeing beside me. His fingers flex into my back while he’s got the eye contact he’s been waiting for. I’m angry that he sees the slight drop in my fake enthusiasm.

The rest of the walk goes without incident, and Langdon doesn’t play his next hand until we’re sat in a booth across from Rae and her coworker, Jenn. Jenn looks the complete opposite of Rae, with long, mousy brown hair and pink lipstick on.

Having no strong opinion on what to get, Rae orders for the table, insisting she knows the best of everything on the menu. I don’t care, I’m more focused on my game plan. It leaves me completely unsuspecting to the hand that lingers beside my thigh.

I don’t even realize it’s there until Langdon’s fingers begin to creep up. They caress the skin just above my knee, and just as I’m aware of what’s happening, they slide up my skirt. Body rigid, eyes fighting to remain steady, the only thing I can do is slam my own hand down on his.

I prop my elbow up on the table, hand resting in my chin as I side-eye Langdon. He’s biting his lip to stifle his growing smirk, but his eyes are focused. Razor-sharp. Like he’s actually listening to the story Jenn is telling about Rae eating too much sushi one night and spending the remainder of it in the bathroom.

“So are you guys like, just coworkers?” Rae asks abruptly. She’s eyeing us both. Does she know? Can she feel the tension, too?

“Yeah,” Langdon answers coolly, glancing over at me with a sweet smile. “We’re senior residents. Started our internships at the same place. Haven’t been able to scare her off yet.”

There’s truth in those words, or at least they meant a very different truth before last night. I can’t hold back the dry laugh that escapes me. “Trust me, it’s mutual.”

Jenn and Rae give each other a look. I wonder if they think we actually hate each other or if they see right through the table, down to where our hands are silently fighting under my skirt.

“Gotta have some kind of competition, right?” Jenn breaks the silence, and we all laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea,” I respond as I viciously tug at Langdon’s hand, smile wide and as innocent as ever.

Rae was right, the sushi is good. Had I been less tied up in Langdon and I’s ridiculous edging competition, I would’ve enjoyed it a whole lot more, though. We split the bill, say our goodbyes, and separate for the night. I can tell Jenn and Rae were relieved to be leaving; I just wish I had the emotional capacity to feel bad about it.

But all of my thoughts are on the fingers slipping under my skirt, silent and scathing. And the way Langdon hardly reacted. How cool he was. You’d think his touch would’ve been the thing to dwell on, but it’s not. It’s just him and his demeanor. The ability to act like everything’s fine when I know he’s burning up inside, too. I have to break him.

“I have to pee,” I blurt out right before we turn the corner to the hotel. It’s not time yet. I’m not ready to lose. “There’s a bar right there. I’ll just run in.”

Langdon raises his eyebrows, sighing. “Yeah, fine. But I’m going in, too.”

I side eye him, allowing him to see my confusion. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Not when it’s dark and this place is crawling with creeps,” he argues.

“Okay, fine. Whatever,” I dismiss him, already jogging up to the door. Knowing he can’t see my face, I smile.

An Oscar-winning performance. My magnum opus.

Thankfully the bar isn’t packed yet, it’s not even seven o’ clock. The bathroom is tucked in a back corner, and again, thankfully only one person at time. With no line, I slow my pace so Langdon can fall in step beside me. He’s looking around aimlessly, taking in the light-up Bud Light signs and pop art photos on the wall. Before he can so much as blink, I’ve got hold of his hand and we’re in the bathroom together. Alone. I twist the lock shut.

“What are you doing?” he questions, face contorting into surprise. I’ve caught him off guard.

“I don’t know,” I reply, walking towards him. As if a lightbulb has lit above his head, he realizes what I’m doing and takes a step back. And then another. Until his back hits the brick. “What am I doing, Langdon?”

“Cornering a helpless citizen in a bar bathroom,” he accuses. But he makes no effort to block me. He just stares, taking me in. My white blouse, my black skirt. The necklace dangling from my neck as I push myself against him.

“You’re not winning this, you know that, right?” he continues, but his eyes say something wildly different. Gone is the coolness, the calculation. I’ve almost got him.

I snake my hands under his suit jacket, gliding around the fabric of his black button-up. And then I dip my fingers underneath until I’m scouring his bare skin. I trace around for a few seconds, not necessarily choosing anywhere specific. He shakes his head, just barely, and then he’s grabbing my face and kissing me, hard.

I open my mouth immediately. Part of me is holding onto the plan, another begging to just let go. I can feel the slickness of his tongue roaming in my mouth, breathing hitched, hair scattered against my forehead. I continue tracing on his stomach, then move lower. And lower. And just like that, Langdon breaks, the quietest, most strangled moan I’ve ever heard leaking from his lips before he can stop it.

I pull away from the kiss, leaning toward his ear, and then murmur, “Famous last words.”

night three

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